Snow In OZ

It was one of my wishes this Christmas and it came true!

Just like the song, "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas," I wished for snow this year. Living in Florida, frozen precipitation is classified as a miracle in these parts. But where I grew up, we had 12 inches one day and 18 the next. You were lucky to get Christmas cards because the mailboxes where completely covered over.

The last time it snowed in Jacksonville was 1989. That's almost 20 years ago, which tells you something. Nevertheless, I dreamed of it. After almost 31 years in the South, I still find it hard to wrap my mind around palm trees with Christmas lights on them. Jacksonville has it's fair share of cheesy inflatable snowmen, along with lighted wire reindeer, all displayed on green lawns with not a blanket of frost in sight.

But this year, while in Kansas City visiting my daughter, I was blessed with the white Christmas I longed for. As I looked out the airplane's window, I felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, wondering if I landed in a dream. Getting off, I immediately went to the car rental office. They asked me if I had any experience driving in snow. My past had served me well, giving me the necessary knowledge I needed. I'm so glad I did all those donuts in the High School parking lot after hours! I didn't know I would one day rely on such a valuable skill.

And skill was what I needed driving on the hilly streets of Kansas City. My PT Cruiser maneuvered well on the ice and more importantly, my heater worked on demand. I had forgotten how cold "cold" was. It's really cold! The gray snow skies covered the earth below like a dingy blanket; the streets were quietly serene. Footprints of friends coming and going from my daughters house showed me that snowfall didn't stop those committed to 24/7 prayer. Nothing stops them.

But after 4 days, I was ready to return to the tropics. I missed the snow days of my past and truly felt God's blessing as He orchestrated the conditions to remedy my hearts desire. I knew that snow had fallen just for me.

Then it was time . . . I found a fluffy patch to sink my feet into and began to click my heals together saying over and over again, "There's no place like home." It worked; I'm back!

It was strange sweating on Christmas Day with temperatures in the 80's, but I guess I'll learn to deal with it . . . someday.

ANGELS AMONGST US

With the economy in crisis, stress levels at an all-time high, and depression knocking on 2009's door, some can truly relate to George Bailey in Frank Capra's classic, "It's A Wonderful Life." Watching this mans life through the camera lens of an angel named Clarence gives us just the "rear-view reflection" needed for the days to come.

The movie has many high points as the laugh meter rises to the top time after time, but I must say that one of my favorite parts is the very beginning when we hear numerous prayers being offered by those who believe He truly hears us. The camera slowly zooms out as requests are being made known and everyone seems to be clamoring at once. The script allows for a small cast of voices crying out to Him with various supplications. Yet God, in all His glorious splendor, chooses to listen and is moved by those who tug on His merciful heart.

As far back as my memories serve me, I remember my mom being a "tugger." Even if it was after I had fallen asleep, I still recollect her tip-toeing into my room to say a soft-spoken prayer over me. Each time she prayed, she tugged at His heart, asking for my safe passage through this life, as well as His blessing. Those words cover me to this day; their goal was and still is to accomplish all that was intended in the words which came off her lips.

I do the same for my children now, whether they are near or far. Already, I pray for their yet-to-be spouses, as well as the grandchildren I will soon hold. As a mother, tugging is my business, but as a believer, tugging is essential to my existence. Once you start tugging in sincerity, you become addicted sensing His pleasure in the asking. Strangely, because of this act, His heart is moved.

More than ever before, I feel an urgency to tug. As much as Hollywood attempted to portray this, we need to be sensitive to the leading of the Spirit when we pray. Just as many lifted the name of George Bailey to the heavens, God is calling His people to pray. If we could zoom the camera out the way Frank Capra did, we too would begin to hear the consistency in God's agenda.

This generation is very unique. Truly, these are exciting times to be alive in and 2009 will soon be overflowing with so-called change. Can prayer make a difference? Let me narrow this down even further . . . are there angels assigned to personally assist you? According to George Bailey, there are. Read Psalms 91:11-12 and let me know what YOU think.

I fell for it every year!

The date was December 24th; the temperature was usually below zero; the time was always around 7:oo Pm, just after dinner. I can still remember standing with my face pressed to the cold plate glass. My breath on the inside of the window turned to thin ice as I stood there, knowing if I stared long enough, I might spot a twinkle.

Oblivious to everyone, my mother would ask my older sister to help me get my bath. Why now, I wondered? He'll be here any minute! Pleading with her did me no good. She always told me that if I hurried, I would get done before he came. One of my clever brothers tipped me off and suggested I mix the shampoo and the creme rinse together to save time. (He could have patented this idea and been the inventor of the first 2-in-1 shampoo.)

But it never failed. Every year, while the water was going down the drain and I was still dripping wet, I heard the echo of the jingle bells just before the door slammed shut. I scurried to get pajamas on my wet body, accomplishing very little. Frustrated I would miss him, I exchanged being half-naked in front of my family, for a chance to get a glimpse of his sleigh in the cold, December night sky. Then came my dad's famous words, "You just missed him!" But I was sure I had seen his shadow.

What happened next was nothing short of chaotic. We opened presents until we were silly and sleepy. Going to bed wasn't very hard as I usually slept with one of my new toys, knowing that the next day would be filled with endless hours of play and our traditional Italian feast.

Eventually, I learned the Christmas secret but I still can't figure out why I fell for it every year!

In no less than at least two paragraphs, describe your favorite Christmas tradition with plenty of details.

Can you believe it? Christmas is only a few weeks away!!!

I started my Christmas shopping a few months ago so I feel like I am ahead of the game. This year, I tried a different gift strategy with my kids. When it came to picking out their gifts, I took them shopping with me. They should be 100% pleased with what is under the tree this year and just in case they change their minds on any of the items before I wrap them, they have the opportunity to exchange BEFORE Christmas. The anticipation seems greater, even though both of them know what they are getting. The torment of having the stuff somewhere in the house and not being able to touch any of it is killing them.

My kids are asking me for my list and it's hard to think of ideas on demand. All year long, I come across great gift ideas for myself but for some reason, I'm at a loss. Most of the things I want are either too expensive or they are items I would like to pick out myself. Maybe I should use my new gift strategy on myself!

Eventually, I'll come up with a list of well-deserved items. When my kids ask their Dad to take them Christmas shopping for me, they'll be well-informed little shoppers, brainwashed by me, to spend lots of Daddy's hard-earned money.

But what makes me think I should get everything my little heart desires? Well, for the most part, I have been a good girl. I haven't been naughty very much this year and truly thought of others before myself. Basically, I've been perfect in every way. Don't you think I should get everything on my list?

How about you? Please explain why you think YOU should be spoiled this year . . . everything on your list, wrapped and under the tree.

SWEET DREAMS by Nathan James

I'd like to think of myself as one who has many vivid and colorful dreams, not to mention, very random and nonsensical ones as well. What our minds tend to muster up in the late hours of the night can be some of the most ridiculous and crazy scenarios imaginable.

Of course, people have different mindsets, ideas, points of view, and other related mental articles, which give each person different types of dreams; whether it be the people involved in the dream, the setting, atmosphere or appearance. I’ve found some of mine to be very colorful and lustrous (even though I hear that we dream in black and white, I will continuously argue that this statement is fiction.)

Dreaming doesn’t usually occur in the deeper stages of sleep, but rather in the first few stages. We do our dreaming generally in the state of lighter sleeping. Also, if you didn’t already know, it only takes about 10% of your brain to create a dream for nighty-night time.

But aside from all of those monotonous facts, I’d like to hear some of your sweet dreams. Whether they are embarrassing, silly, nightmarish, realistic, or story-like, please share them. I might share a few of mine too, in response to yours. So, what kind of dreams do YOU have?

THE PERFECT MEAL

It's getting closer. The anticipation is building. Soon, the smell of turkey roasting in the oven, along with dressing and pies, will fill millions of homes all over the United States.

As far back as I can remember, I woke up with these same distinctive aromas wafting past my nose, as well as the sound of Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade coming from the family room TV. No one was necessarily watching it, but it was on all the same. Sleeping late meant no school, and if we were lucky, it would snow hard enough over the weekend to justify the school board calling for a snow day, giving us a few extra days off.

One of my favorite things to do was look through the Sears Christmas Wish Book and circle everything on my list. This would not be complete without holiday music in the background. Dad had a reel-to reel tape deck in which he had recorded Christmas songs from the radio. These same tapes were played year after year and each time, the familiar renditions would add another layer of memories. If we begged Dad long enough, he might even get the decorations out of the garage. When the ornaments were unpacked, I would gaze at my favorites, as if I were looking at them for the very first time.

Mom always planned to eat around 2:00 Pm, but Tom Turkey didn't make his golden debut until he was ready. The table was set by my sisters and I, everything in its place. Often times, I was given the job of making place cards . . . home made, of course. As the family grew larger and larger, this task took longer and longer. On occasion, we had a special guest join us for dinner . . . someone who needed a home for the holiday.

Then came the long-awaited two words, "Dinner's ready!" Just when we thought it was time to eat, my parents would gather us in a circle and while holding hands, we would take a minute to go around, one at a time, telling what we were thankful for. Although my stomach was empty, my heart was full of the many blessings God gave us as a family. I was overflowing with gratitude.

But that wasn't all that overflowed. When the prayer was over, the abundance of blessings on the table overflowed my plate. Here is what my plate looked like: a few slices of Mom's perfect turkey next to her AMAZING giblet stuffing (a double portion at least,) then corn, green bean casserole, home made mashed potato's and gravy, along with two cranberry sauces and possibly a roll. Since my son married, the North finally met the South and we now have the addition of Sweet Potato Casserole, courtesy of my daughter-in-law, Angela.

All's well that ends well and I am proud to say that I am the official pie maker in this family. I always bake at least four pies: Dutch Apple, Chocolate Pecan, Pumpkin and French Silk Chocolate Pie. (Don't forget the whipped Cream.)

After the last dish is washed, the women folk take their traditional walk in the neighborhood to ease the pain of overeating or maybe just get out of the kitchen. Yet, there is one last important ingredient left to mention.

When I was a child, we went as a family to view the Christmas window display at a popular department store in the town where I grew up. To carry on this tradition, we now go to Kuhn Flowers on Thanksgiving night, to see their widows. Although someone in my family always feels the need to express disapproval to this long standing ritual, they graciously appease me by honoring my request.

As the years go by, family dynamics have shifted and changed. This year, a nucleus of us will be trying Thanksgiving around the campfire. I am looking forward to creative variations of the traditions I hold so dear, adding another layer of memories. But I have learned something about this perfect meal . . . it's not where you are or what you put on your plate, its who you are with and what you have in your heart that counts.

What's your idea of the perfect meal?

THAT'S NOT THE WAY IT WAS IN MY DAY!

I heard this growing up and continue to hear it today.

I am very blessed to have my parents still living. My father was born in 1923 and my mother in 1930. When I look at those numbers, my brain freezes. What was it like to live back then? The only thing this generation can wrap it's mind around is the here and the now.

Listening to my parents speak of a simpler life makes me long for more innocent days of old. When my mother craved peaches, she didn't go to the grocery store; she went down to the cellar and grabbed a quart-size Mason jar which her mother canned. Her mothers washing machine was a wringer washer and all the laundry was dried outside on clothes lines. Telephone numbers were shared by neighbors who could interrupt your call at any time.

My dad didn't wear a back pack to school but carried his books in a stack, tied together with string or an old shoelace. When my dad's generation needed money, they got on a bike and delivered the daily paper. Because there was no television or video games, kids actually gathered on safe streets to play tag, capture the stick, marbles or jacks. If Dad could get enough friends together, they would play a neighborhood game of ball that lasted until dusk. Then the family would gather around the radio for evening entertainment.

Don't think that a simpler life was an easier one. The Great Depression took it's toll and many fathers lost their jobs, filing into breadlines to keep their families from starving. If you managed to have a job, you worked hard to keep it. Money was scarce and the economy suffered a very devastating blow. Just as our nation was recovering from the crash, WWII became the focus.

My folks survived the Depression as well as the war and still live to tell about days such as these. They are now enjoying so many modern conveniences that help make their lives easier. On occasion, my dad will even say, "If my mother could see this, she would roll over in her grave!"

But from then to now, everything is different; nothing is the same. We get more done in a minute than they could have gotten done in several hours or even days. One thing that frustrates my parents is the speed at which things change. Just when my mom learned how to navigate her present operating system, Windows came out with a new one. My dad loves his iPod but hasn't figured out how to update his play list. Replacing an old cell phone with a newer version is completely mind-boggling. They feel as though they can't keep up. Technology is in absolute hyperspace! While my brain is accustomed to processing at the speed of light; they are dizzy from breathing my fumes.

Have you ever stopped to consider what our existence will look like in 25 years? Will we be able to keep up with the information age? Life as we know it is going to be completely different. When someone says, "That's not the way it was in my day," they'll actually be referring to yesterday!

Speculate, for a minute, how things might change from this generation to the next.

Let me hear your thoughts.

(The story you are about to read is 100 % fictional)

Just the other day, I needed to sign some important documents. Because of the nature of my business, signing them in person was a requirement. The office happened to be on the 18th floor of the Modis Building in the downtown area.

I noticed a commotion as I approached the elevators but somehow in all the confusion in the lobby, I wound up in the same elevator as presidential candidate Senator John McCain. There I was, face to face with him. Before I knew it, the doors were closing and secret service came pouncing towards us like a bunch of cats chasing catnip.

I must have been a sight, gawking at him with my jaw touching my chest. He broke the ice by shaking my hand and politely introducing himself. I gasped, knowing exactly who he was. When I told him my name, he smiled and said it was a pleasure to share the ride with me. He further expressed how the security slip-up might serve as a much needed break from the maddening crowds he was so accustomed to.

I nervously stared at the numeric display ascending from one floor to the next, when all of the sudden, the elevator gently came to a stop. We both looked at each other in surprise. I hesitatingly remarked, "Maybe your break will be a bit longer than you expected."

After security assured him via his ever-ringing cell phone we would be fine and the elevator would be repaired momentarily, he asked if sitting on the floor would make me feel uncomfortable. I responded by joining him. I debated in my mind for what seemed like forever, whether or not I should bring up the many issues I was concerned about. As soon I said, "Would you mind if I . . .” he interrupted and replied, "No, go ahead."

The rest is a blur. We must have sat there for a good thirty minutes when the elevator jerked and began its rise back to the top. As my floor approached, I quickly expressed my appreciation for the one-on-one moments we shared. Waving goodbye, I stepped out on to the 18th floor. The doors closed behind giving the Senator two and a half more minutes of solitude as he rode to the building's private top floor.

What did we talk about? That is for me to forever hide in my heart. But I learned so much about him in those few minutes.

Here's my opinion: John McCain is truly a hero. On the subject of negative campaigning, he could sling plenty of mud at his opponent but chooses not to at this time. Maybe what he faced as a POW explains his reaction to keep quiet in the face of persecution and ridicule. I know God honors this no matter who wins this race.

I feel deep concern for where this country is headed in light of the "change" that is promised by the other camp. Socialism is not only knocking at our front doors, it believes it can come in and put its feet on our furniture. Adopting this type of thinking, just because we as a nation are tired of taking care of ourselves, is not worth the consequences.

Voting correctly is one of the most powerful rights we physical possess, but praying fervently moves the heart of the Father. We need to ask God for mercy as a nation and cry out to Him to save us in our time of need. Praying is not the "least we can do," it is definitely the MOST we can do!

IMAGINE YOU GOT STUCK IN AN ELEVATOR WITH ONE OF THE TWO PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATES. WHO WAS IT AND WHAT IS YOUR OPINION?

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT HOMEWORK?

Some of my readers have known me for as long as I have been on this earth, maybe even changed my diapers.

But some of you are my newest friends.

The beauty of the blog is that we have found interesting things out about each other in a modern, techno kind of way.

Did you know I am a songwriter? I have several recordings as well, but that's another subject.

My goal this week is to bring the lyricist out in you and ask you to pen a song about your feelings for, of all things, homework. For help with rhyming words, check out www.rhymezone.com. If you need inspiration, sit outside one night this week under the harvest moon. Get out your guitar or harmonica for musical support and opine away. Who knows, the neighborhood hound dogs may even join in!

Here goes . . .

(Folksy, country flavor)

Ode to the Essay
by Chrissy Larson

Verse 1:
It was thirty two years ago I did my time,
In a High School that's so far away;
There was Algebra, Spanish and Chemistry too;
English Comp and the five part ess-ay.

Verse 2:
Now I needed my credits to walk on that stage,
Hear my name, throw my cap to the sky;
But with essays to write and exams yet to pass,
I couldn't just turn a blind eye.

verse 3:
Through many long weekends and more sleepless nights,
Than I really do care to admit;
I finally tackled what I had feared most,
My efforts paid off, every bit.

Verse 4:
I had intros, conclusions, three mains and a thesis,
The only thing left was my clincher;
Oh no . . . not a brain freeze! I'm 'bout out of time -
I'm ready to end this adventure!

Verse 5:
I finally finished those essays and more,
I "walked" and I did not look back;
But who would have guessed that I needed those skills,
To coach you and keep you on track.

Chorus:
I'm so glad it's your essay, not mine;
Watching movies is really just fine.
To Staples again,
I need a red pen;
I'm so glad it's your essay, not mine
(twice through because it's just that good)

Cyber Psalmist
P.s. I will accept nothing less than a poem!

What Do Clairol and State Farm Have in Common?

THEY BOTH HAVE ME COVERED!

Anyone learning to drive can give a new meaning to the word "stress." From rules to road signs, it's not exactly what you bargain for. 

I remember taking on the responsibility of getting behind the wheel. Drivers Ed was by far the favorite class amongst teenagers. In my day, the simulator lab was the closest thing we had to playing video games. The teacher set us up behind a monitor and left us alone until our designated time was up. 

But the most fun included three teenagers plus an instructor safety-belted into the seats of a Student Driver Vehicle. We thought we were so smart driving  around a school parking lot full of cones. When it was our turn to get street-smart, everyone in town shared a clear and present danger. The Drivers Ed vehicles were marked from front to back with flashing lights and signs; black and yellow caution stripes let the world know we were on the road. It wasn't as cool as I thought it would be. I felt like George McFly with a "Kick Me" sign on my back!

I survived and eventually got my drivers license. It was a proud moment. But if you ask my mom about her side of the story, she would tell it a bit differently. I had never seen facial expressions like that before (or since.) Her right foot was constantly riding an artificial break on the passenger side and she looked like a deer caught in the headlights. 

After teaching two of my own children how to drive, I can honestly say I know how she felt. Back then, there weren't near as many distractions for the student driver . . . cell phones, text messages, GPS's, and siblings, none of which were allowed in any of my learner's vehicle. 

I, just like my mother, lived through it. Two of my children are now road savvy; my other two children are being peacefully  chauffeured from here to there. This experience has contributed to the number of grey hairs on my head, but it's nothing Clairol won't cover. 

How about you? Do you have an interesting story to tell or comment to make on this subject? Should there be a few rules added to the handbook for the parents? I'll give you a penny for your thoughts.

Question of the Week

DO HARD THINGS

As indicated by a few of the responses to last week's blog, some teens lack a high degree of confidence in themselves and their peers. That's disturbing. Twin brothers Alex and Brett Harris, 19-year-old homeschool graduates, have co-authored a book, Do Hard Things, subtitled A Teenage Rebellion Against Low Expectations. This is a terrific read for parents and teens alike. I have neither the time nor space to do a book review, but their words give us hope for this defeatest attitude.

One notable thing these young men point out is that we have come to believe in the myth of adolescence. The term teenager wasn't coined until 1941. In earlier times, a person went from childhood to young adulthood. Circumstances demanded that children take on adult responsibilities as soon as they were out of the childish phase. Why is it that society now thinks of adolescents as mentally deficient, hormone-driven, unmotivated, undisciplined goalless stumps afraid to approach life with purpose and intention?

Do Hard Things issues the challenge to teenagers to do hard things, to break out of the mold and start a "rebelution," to rebel against the self-fulfilling prophecy of low expectations. The twins give an example of a young lady, a county campaign coordinator in a statewide political campaign effort in which the Harris brothers were also involved, yet at the state's capitol. She did an incredible job. They had briefly met her and her older sister at the campaign kickoff meeting, so when they heard about the tremendous job she had done, they mistakenly thought she was her 24-year-old sister. They were shocked when they discovered the "woman" doing all that work was only 17. They were also 17 at the time, yet even they had their own preconceived notions about the capabilities of their peers. They also later found out that the girl was deathly afraid of talking on the phone, yet her campaigning position had required her to do just that. That was her hard thing, but she refused to let her own struggles or what others believed about her to define her success.

Each person has his or her own hard thing, or multiple hard things. You first might have to conquer a relatively small hard thing before you go on to conquer a major hard thing. Believe it or not, adults have hard things too. One of my hard things is letting my children do hard things! I guess I am what you would call an enabler. I began working on that hard thing this year by joining the co-op. How can you challenge yourself? What hard thing(s) can you work on?

Mrs. Brooks

The Blessing of Time

For all the homeschool Mom's and Dad's reading along every week, I wanted to share a time-saving blessing I came across. All of you know the value of this precious commodity we call time. A few years ago, I bumped into a company that has blessed my family.

If you did not already know, I am a mother of four children. Although I have graduated my oldest (married with his first child on the way,) as well as our second child, who’s now in Kansas City, Missouri, attending a missions-based internship, our other two children are still being schooled at home. My youngest is in the 4^th grade and the other sibling is in the 6^th. With over 16 years of homeschooling behind me, I take a deep breath and gear up for the next nine more years. I have been a part of a co-op for all the years I have been teaching, which meets one day a week.

As you can see from my years of experience, I am quite familiar with the many types of curriculum out there. I am amazed every year at the new products being offered to us and delighted there is such a variety of things available. Whether you enjoy hands-on or workbooks, it’s all there. I think I have a little of almost everything on my bookshelf or have tried most of it. One thing I have learned over the years… what works for one may not work for another so you should always use a teaching style that suits your individual child.

In my quest to save time, money and cut down on lesson plans, I began searching for ways my kids could study some of their core subjects with a little independence. I wanted to have more time for hands-on, exploration and field trips. I was introduced to a program that was free to those who qualified and we were part of their pilot program. We were given all the books, readers, workbooks, teacher’s manuals, and even a computer to use. The program was bright, colorful and very interesting. The problem came in completing the work as there was so much that had to be accomplished. By the end of the day, we were exhausted. There was never any time leftover to do the really fun stuff. When my youngest was old enough to start school, they “grandfathered” her in to the program and I attempted to teach two this way. I don’t know what I was thinking. But hey, it was free so I thought I would give it another try. That year was a failure in some senses, but a victory in others. We learned how we didn’t want to homeschool and parted ways graciously, shipping all of the colorful readers and computer back.

Because I still wanted my kids to have a few independent classes, I began to explore other avenues. We tried a few subjects from a company that helped “pace” us along, but were very boring. We then tried another popular company which offered both a pack of consumable workbooks, as well as a computer-type “schoolhouse” for many of their subjects. I purchased a few subjects on CD and some workbooks packs for each child. Again, I was disappointed.

I knew there had to be something out there that was fun and engaging, yet academically challenging. I still wanted to foster independence so I began a search on the internet. I typed in a few keywords and found Time4Learning. The demo showed me exactly what I wanted to know and all of us felt we found just what we were looking for.

There are many ways to use Time4Learning. It really depends if you are using other texts or workbooks alongside T4L. When we first started the program, we needed to do a lot of catching up and the kids spent more time in specific areas than they do now. Because we are a part of a co-op that offers History & Science, I let the kids explore these two subject areas as a part of their “playground” time, without a time limit. Also, I use a few things at home that have been favorites of mine, both to teach and for them to learn from. I have my own spelling program as well as a grammar book that we use. I also use a math program along side T4L that is more visual in concept (“build and see”). I have found that this never conflicts with what they are learning, but only enhances the T4L program. I feel that not only does T4L fill in possible learning gaps, it gives me the confidence to know that no matter what area we slow down and concentrating on, we will always have a solid “core subject” base.

How I use Time4Learning:

Since we are at a co-op one day a week, we only do T4L Monday through Thursday. We prefer to get this done in the morning and save the afternoon for other subjects and activities. This gives me time to do a few chores and get ready for our learning time in the afternoon. Each child has a computer and can work independently. I have assigned them a specific amount of time they must spend in a subject area per day. The older the child is, the longer the session. For example:

6^th Grader- Daily Schedule (Monday –Thursday)

Time spent in each subject area on a daily basis:

Math – 30 minutes

Language Arts – 30 minutes

Language Extensions –30 minutes

Total learning time – 1 ½ hours

20 minutes of playtime are allowed between each subject.

4^th Grader- Daily Schedule (Monday –Thursday)

Time spent in each subject area on a daily basis:

Math – 20 minutes

Language Arts – 20 minutes

Language Extensions –20 minutes

Total learning time – 1 hour

20 minutes of playtime are allowed between each subject.

*Note – on occasion, one of my kids will ask to spend their entire T4L session in one subject area, such as Math. I will let them do that one day if they promise me to “make it up” in the other subjects the other days of the week. One way to can accomplish this would be to do all Language Arts the following day and all Language Extensions the day after that. The last day of the week would go back to a regular schedule.

This schedule can be flexed to suit your needs. Keep an open mind and heart about what you are doing. Your kids have bad days just like you so apply grace when needed. The beauty of Time4Learning is the fact that they will have their academic bases covered, allowing us the liberty to focus on different learning bents our children have, while not sacrificing the basics.

We are in our 3^rd year of using Time4Learning and all love it. Its one thing to hear how parents like and use Time4Learning but it’s another thing to know that the kids love it as well. Thank you, Time4Learning!

IMAGINE WHAT LIFE WOULD BE LIKE IF TEENS RULED THE WORLD!

Brainstorm a list of instructions and give at least three rules teens would make for adults.

I've grown up a little bit but realize I still have a long way to go. Until I arrive, I have some advice to pass along to all the adults reading this.

#1. Proverbs warns parents not to provoke their kids to anger. Man, that is such good advice because parents come unglued, especially when they are stressed out. You can almost watch their blood boil and then
bang . . . they implode! My rule? Parents are required to say they are sorry too. I feel so much more respect for them when they ask me to forgive them.

#2. Teens should practice making plenty of adult decisions before leaving home. That way when we fail or screw something up, our parents can bail us out. It's more convenient messing up under our parents authority than out on our own.

#3. Teens should have maid service, especially for their rooms. All laundry should be done by this domestic helper, as well as keep personal items organized. Also, bedrooms should have a continually stocked mini-fridge, full of favorites.

As far as instructions, the best ones are found in the Bible concerning raising teens. I don't think parents give them enough credit.

Cyber Psalmist

What ONE Embarrassing Little Truth Can You Tell About Yourself?

"But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part,

which will not be taken away from her." Luke 10:22

It's almost hard to recall but there once was a time in my life when I was able to watch bits and pieces of morning television shows . At 9:00 Am, I had coffee with Regis and Kathy Lee. They jested and jeered about their lives and let me guess, along with the rest of America, the answer to the daily trivia question. Then at 10:00 Am, Martha Stewart showed me how to grow my own herbs, bake my own bread and weave a basket to serve it in. Everything was easy and perfect in her TV world and I too, dreamed of Living just like Martha. It appeared to come so natural for her, except for one thing. . . an entire staff of employees did the work behind the scenes. The image she portrayed was just a facade.

It reminds me of those old western towns seen on a film set. Many of the buildings are only facades, which are far cheaper than actual buildings. If we could go behind the scenes, we would be surprised by the fact that they are merely held up with supports. Such is the case in Martha's world.

Jesus used the story of Mary and Martha to prove a similar point. Martha appeared to have it together on the outside, but in her heart, she missed the mark. Martha felt like her purpose was to busy herself with household duties. One of her biggest downfalls was expecting everyone else to be as passionate about housework as she was. She began to despise Mary for her lack of concern but not even Jesus felt Martha's tasks were as important as Mary's.

I am truly a Mary stuck in Martha's world. I would much rather worship than wash the dishes; I prefer to fast than to feast; I'd rather press in and hear from the Lord than press shirts and have starched creases. The worship webstream runs more in my house than the carpet steam cleaner. The biggest reason I get on my knees is NOT to wax my floors. Existing in this realm requires I loose some of my Martha dignity.

You see, I love to do those things and I was trained by the best (my mother) to do them well. But I can't quite get myself to prioritize any differently. I get up early, yet stay up late. My accomplishments? They add up to a few new songs written for an audience of One; words of encouragement penned for one that needed His touch; or precious time spent with my kids who will one day be gone from my immediate reach.

What is my embarrasing truth? My house is pretty much a wreck. But one thing is needed, and hopefully I have chosen the good part.

Cyber Psalmist

Question of the Week

If you were given a million dollars,
what would you do with it?
- Kyle O.

Funny you should ask, Kyle, because I mentioned this to the Lord just the other day.

Recently, I went to an out-of-town wedding and was able to renew friendships with nieces and nephews that I had not seen in a few years. One of my nephews is struggling with circumstances in his life that categorize his present condition as "dysfunctional."

As I considered my position as his Aunt, I knew my family, along with the Lord's help, was capable of making a difference in his life. Next summer, we plan on arranging for him to spend a bit of his summer with us.

Then it hit me... wouldn't it be cool if I could personally take my nephew, along with my son (who is close in age) on a missions trip? As quick as the idea came up, I let it go, due to my constant lack of funding. With numerous missions trips behind me, I knew the routine... fundraisers, passport applications, medical exams, not to mention the physical and spiritual preparation. All of this was worth the effort, yielding a greater spiritual return than I could ever fathom. But my biggest hurtle would no doubt be finances.

So, the last thing I whispered in God's ear only a few days ago regarding this far-fetched idea was, "If someone gave me a million dollars, I know just what I would do with it."

I'll leave it right there and remind you as well as myself, "with God, all things are possible," even a million dollars. (Matt. 19:26)

Cyber Psalmist

Question of the Week

Describe three teeny-tiny "downers" that annoy you. 

Downers are very personal. They are the little aggravations of life, not the big ones. Losing your wallet or getting in an accident of some sort is not a teeny-tiny downer. A teeny-tiny downer is that little ball of hand lotion that forms at the spout of a bottle of hand lotion and comes out in a hard blob when you squirt it into your hands. 

I know I buy the right size flip-flops because they fit my feet just perfectly. But somehow, people who are walking behind me manage to step on the heel-portion of my sandal and trip me up. This happens far too often for words. Although it's teeny, it truly aggravates me.

Another downer is when they forget to give you straws or plastic ware in the drive-thru. Then what? You almost have to drive around again, get in the long line you just exited, and ask for the missing items. This may sound tiny to you, but to me, it's huge.

Ok, this one IS personal. I have a cabinet under my sink, right next to my toilet.  I keep cleaning supplies in it because the storage space is nice and tall--great for spray bottles and bulk items. The other cabinet in my bathroom is wider and accommodates things like towels and washcloths that can be folded to custom fit that space. I also keep the toilet paper there; it's the only storage space left for this precious commodity. If ever the occupant runs out of TP while the job is in progress, they have to get up and walk over to the cabinet to get more paper and... well, let's just say... finish. This situation has caught me in it's trap a time or two and I guess I need to find a more convenient place to hide a few rolls. Compared to running out completely, this is teeny-tiny.

In the scope of things that get you down, there are definitely more aggravating situations to face. How about you?

Cyber Psalmist

If you could wake up one morning as someone else, who would it be and what would you do?

Bethany Dillon - Waking Up - 2007

Waking up one morning, only to find I was someone else would be scary, especially if I couldn't pick who I was going to change places with (assuming that was the scenario.) But since I get to pick, here goes:

I think I'd like to be Misty Edwards for one day, just to see what it was like to walk and sing under such an incredible anointing. I feel certain she spends tons of time in prayer, as well as time composing new material and just singing before the Lord; something I don't have much time alloted for these days. A band practice with the musicians she plays with would be very cool and I think I would talk her engineers into letting me have studio time. Then I'd hook up with some of her friends at the coffee shop and ask those "heavy" questions I have been contemplating; people like Allen Hood, Mike Bickle, and Corey Russell. I wouldn't wonder if they wanted to hang out with me... after all, I'm Misty.

I probably would not eat very much because Misty fasts all the time. I would look forward to a two-hour set of worship with my team in the Prayer Room and you... would be able to watch me on the web-stream. But I wouldn't care about that... because I'm Misty.

I would not be satisfied with just 24 hours. I would be anxious for another day to spend at the feet of Jesus. Sleep would be light and the dawn would remind me of what this is all leading to...

because I was Misty.

Cyber Psalmist

Question of the Week

If you could design a billboard,

what would it say?

You are a voice to a generation.

Billboards are an amazing advertising tool. Because we have a business of our own, I have checked into billboard advertising as well as considered various locations around the city that would be beneficial to us. Location is everything. It must be catchy or else colorful enough to capture the readers attention. We read them at stop lights or glance at them as we fly down the expressway. Some are humorous and others annoy us. I've even seen a billboard with a proposal on it. I'm not sure I find that romantic. Everywhere you go (unless there are restrictions) you see billboards.

Have you ever thought of your life as a billboard? At least for the moment. How I act and who I am speaks volumes about me. My "being" is just as important as my "doing."

I am a voice to a generation and I do have something to say. I've learned from those before me and want to make a difference for those behind. My heart cries out to expose what's real because real reality has somehow fallen through the cracks.

So, what could I possibly say to a generation viewing my billboard?

Jesus wants to know
if you'll play
"Hide & Seek?"

Guess what-- you're it!

Seek the LORD
while He may be found,
Call upon Him
while He is near.
Isaiah 55:6

Cyber Psalmist

Question of the Week

If you were stranded on a deserted island, what is the one item (besides your Bible) you would most want to have with you? Explain your answer.




Ok, I know what some of you are thinking and there is no right or wrong answer. Anything goes on this one so don't get offended if I didn't choose you as my answer. (That was aimed at my mother, who I know reads this.)
I would most want my pillow. I know that sounds bizarre but I love my pillow.

I have a great pillow right now and I would certainly want this particular one with me on my island, but any pillow would do, under those circumstances.

When I was a very young girl, I had a latex foam pillow that I really loved. I loved it so much, I carried it into my marriage with me 30 years ago. I used it for a good while, even though it did not match my husbands pillow on the other side of the bed. That would bother anal retentives, but it never bothered me.

One evening, I knew it would be my last night sleeping with it. I unzipped the protective cotton cover and saw that the majority of the contents had turned into a pile of yellow crumbs which resembled crushed Captain Crunch cereal near the bottom.

The next day my search began for the perfect replacement. After years of trying, I had finally found one that felt right. It's one of those memory foam pillows that is contoured for your head. It will never be the same as my old pillow, but I have had many a good nights rest with it.

That is why I chose my pillow. I figured a good nights rest would be pretty high on the priority list while stranded. With all those strange sounds in the night, my pillow would be a comfort - something I could hug if I was scared.

I could even draw a face on it and talk to it when I got lonely.

Not to mention, much softer that a rock to sit on.

As I pondered further, I thought of a dozen other things I could use my pillow for.

That's my choice for now. Who knows, it might change after this gets posted. I might want my iPod instead.

Question of the Week

What happened on the best day of your summer vacation?

On the best day of my summer vacation, I woke up and there were no kids in my house.

My oldest son has been married over three years now but sometimes when I go into his old room, I still imagine he is in there (sleeping). I used to sit down on his bed and annoy him by slurping coffee in his ear until he woke up.

My first daughter is now at IHOP Kansas City for an internship but her room is still high voltage. Even though she is not around to order my day and eat sushi with me, her sister, who still occupies the room, is. The evidence is unfolding as to who was the cause of the continuous mess in the room.

Both girls have vacated the premises... one in KC, the other is at camp for one solid week.

That leaves the youngest son home (although I tried my best to talk him into going to camp, knowing secretly, I’d have one week to myself. But no chance. He was looking for some solitude as well but never admitted it.

Until -- the phone call came! He was invited to spend a couple of nights at a friends and I was looking at getting a little over 48 hours to myself. I cheerfully released him to his friends house and as I was walking up my front steps, let out a “yea-high” that I’m sure my neighbors heard.

So you might wonder what I did with my 48 hrs? I meticulously scrubbed the guest bathroom. Not even the ants liked the bleachy smell. It sparkled so much that I needed sunglasses. After I was through, I walked past it on purpose, just to get extra glimpses of my hard efforts.

Shortly after that, I began packing my bags for a well-earned trip to Savannah, which included a self-guided walking tour of the river front and some historical stops as well as a reservation at “Lady & Sons” restaurant with new friends that God has recently put in my life.

The fellowship was fantastic, the food was fabulous, the walking was wonderful, and the shopping was just too short.

When I returned home, the first thing I wanted to do was see my kids (hubby too.) It's true, I missed them the whole time. But I sure did have some guilt-free fun while they were gone!

Walk, America!

I filled my car up with gas today. The little window asked me if I wanted a copy of the receipt. It took me a second to decide as I am an avid scrapbook junkie and was thinking about saving it as a memento. One day in the future, I'll either laugh or cry at what prices USED to be. Can you imagine it getting any worse? It could.

Looking back at some old photos the other day, I saw a picture of an old-fashioned gas pump with a hard-working but happy gentleman next to it. True, he "worked hard for the money" honey, but the photo revealed the price for liquid gold back then and it was only a whopping 27 cents per gallon! I wish I had a copy of that receipt.

My daughter asked me what was wrong when I walked in the door today and I showed her my receipt for $93.14 after I had filled up my fuel efficient mini-van. That might last a week. Only then was she able to justify the mood I was in.

I announced we were going to be taking more walks from now on. If you think about it, I bet you could think of at least two places to walk instead of taking the car. My list includes

Blockbuster, CVS, the bank, and even my doctors office. Granted, I will not always be walking, but when I can, I WILL. It's my way of

getting back at somebody for this madness. (I'm not really sure who's to blame or where to aim my anger.) Besides, who couldn't

use the exercise.

SO, GET OUT OF YOUR CARS AND WALK, AMERICA!

Maybe I'll start a new movement.

What do you think?

Do the Math

A few nights ago, my husband woke up around 3:00 Am for no apparent reason. He lay there awhile wondering what he should do next. I've been there myself and it feels as though someone's decided to set off an imaginary alarm clock in my head. I toss a bit, then turn, trying not to disturb anyone. After facing my sleepless denial, I am likely to get up and clean or even work on a project.

I asked my husband what he did during his awake time. He said his mind started going down a list all the near-misses in his life; the really stupid decisions he made as well as risks he had taken, imagining what should have happened. When we're young, consequences don't seem as up-close and personal as they are when maturity knocks on our door. He could not understand his survival rate in comparison to the situations that nearly took his life, nor the reason for the grace that came his way. After reviewing his extensive list, he said he fell peacefully asleep.

I've heard drinking warm milk or cocoa helps insomnia, but then so does a dose of NyQuil PM. One of my favorite movies, "White Christmas," has a scene in which Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney discover they both have trouble sleeping. Bing suggests a glass of buttermilk along with a liverwurst sandwich. That sounds to me like trouble, not a treatment. Then they segue into what I consider to be one of the most beautiful songs in the movie. The lyrics go like this:

Count You Blessings
Irving Berlin
(from the 1954 movie "White Christmas")

When I'm worried and I can't sleep
I count my blessings instead of sheep
And I fall asleep counting my blessings
When my bankroll is getting small
I think of when I had none at all
And I fall asleep counting my blessings

If you think of all the times you were spared, about every close call, and each near-miss, you'll agree, you shouldn't be reading this blog. But God has decided your divine purpose is greater than what you've survived by the skin of your teeth. Psalm 89:13 says, "You (Lord) have a mighty arm; Strong is Your hand, and high is Your right hand."

When you count your blessings and do the math; you'll realize you are exponentially blessed!

I Hate Sticky!

I am convinced that sticky is a curse from the devil. They say hell will be hot but I bet it will be sticky too. It follows you everywhere; if you touch anything, it transfers, leaving a residue to haunt you. Big or small, sticky s#%ks.

Not only is sticky a nuisance on it's own, misery loves company. I forgot to clean up in one spot and the next thing I knew, the sugar ants had not only invited themselves to an all-you-can-eat buffet but invited their friends as well. I am so sick of this!

It's not just sugary messes either. There's spilled glue, duct tape scum and sticker sticky. I went out to dinner tonight and the door handle to the bathroom was tacky sticky. It's everywhere!

So, the other day I came home with a case of ant traps and a cart full of cleaning supplies from the local home store. I think the lady at the checkout thought I had OCD. On the contrary, I have a battle plan and I intend to win. With my traps set and my magic eraser sponges in hand, all I can say is...

...look out sticky, here I come!

A Three Hour Tour

So Long, Sweet Civilization!

Our family had a fabulous time camping this weekend, tubing down a 73 degree, spring-fed river. We all love snorkeling so we were out of our tubes more than we were in them. The park is called Ichetucknee Springs State Park and I highly recommend you visit if ever in the area. There are several options as far as the length of your journey. We had all day so we chose the three hour trip and started in at the headwater. With nothing else to do but daydream and enjoy the surroundings, I had time for a little rear-view reflecting.

Do any of you remember the 60's sitcom "Gilligan's Island?" I hurried home from school just to get in my best TV watching position, making sure all my after school chores were done so that my mother didn't even consider calling my name during that half hour of my life.

The show focused around the adventures of seven stranded castaways and their attempt to survive. They were shipwrecked on an uncharted desert island hoping to escape.

I don't know why the shows fans loved it so much as each episode went the same way... visitors unexpectedly came to the island, the castaways did everything imaginable to earn or bribe their way to a rescue, and then Gilligan would always screw something up in the last five minutes of the show so that they were stuck there until we could revisit them again the next week.

Those who watched were dedicated. We talked about it the following day at school. Life would be so good if only they got off that blasted island! But then why would we watch? I finally figured out that it was a ploy to control my life. (At my age, my mom didn't have the nerve to let me in on the advertiser's little secret.) I must have watched all 98 episodes. When the sponsors finally decided to call the show quits, they made three movie sequels which rescued them and brought them back to civilization.

As in the words to the theme song, " No phone, no lights, no motor cars; not a single luxury. Like Robinson Crusoe; as primitive as can be," I use to wonder what that kind of existence would really be like. Presently, it would mean no cell phone, email, blog, TV and certainly no Nintendo for the kids. Wow!

That pretty much describes our weekend and we didn't miss any of it. Days were spent hugged by the shores of a pristine aquifer that never ceased releasing waters from it's source, the Blue Hole Spring. Nights consisted of smoky fires, S'mores and endless rounds of hide-n-seek with kids from surrounding campsites. None of our cellphones had a signal and I also forgot to charge the DVD player before leaving so we played "Spoons" every night with the kids. The weekend ended by exchanging addresses with new found friends.

Although we weren't stranded like the castaways, we truly enjoyed our primitive weekend. The stale ice cream sandwich from the corner store freezer tasted better, washing dishes on my picnic table was much more pleasant than filling the dishwasher, the coffee was tastier in a blue speckled enamelware cup, and the foam mattress felt even more comfortable than my Sealy Posturepedic!

That's Campin'