What more can I say? A boy, a couple of his favorite dogs, a dirt road, a cowboy hat, and a gun. oh yeah and his boots.
If you have never met Cullen than I can honestly say your missing out on something.
Cullen is named after a cowboy and although he is rough, he is also the sweetest little thing this side of dodge.
He tells me at least two times a day that "you are the best mama in the whole world."
When-ever he goes out side at night he will automatically break out in a rendition of Twinkle twinkle little star.
He is not afraid of the dark. Like a couple of others I know and he loves piling up and setting up cowboys and Indians. He loves playing by himself but he gets to do that very little. I try and make sure he gets a little alone time everyday.
He thinks everyone adopted comes from Africa. I guess he dreamed about his papa bear because he came into the Kitchen this morning and said "I miss papa bear." He is tender hearted and have I mentioned smart? He is doing 1st grade work with Coop. OK, so he is not reading but he sits there...and listens....I know he is learning......

I have to pry his boots off at night but the little cowboy does not go down easy.
His guns come off, his hat too and I kiss him goodnight and look forward to his shining, smiling face in the morning.

I belong to you

My little Jo is thriving!
He belongs here.
Nothing can take him from our
love. He belongs...
My soul still weeps for his mom in Africa because he has no hungry here, or broken hearts, or dreams.I know her love for him would have fixed all of that in Africa if she could of. Well, she did fix it for him. She gave him to me.
And forever this truth remains
That he belongs..
Color is not important.
His skin is the back drop of the most beautiful love that I have ever experienced.
Jo's love. His kisses and hugs. His laugh. His eyes.
Forever the truth remains that Jo belongs to me and I to him.
Jo doesn't seem to mind that I'm White.
I'm Jo's mom and all of his love and all of his days are spent with me. For that I live a grateful life.

I belong...to him


Adoption is seeing people through God's eyes.
Don't miss it.!

Days of our life

You know I'm all about the moments of 'my life.' Well today on the way to some friends house we saw different people in the moments of 'their' life.

Do we really know what people go through in their day to day? Do we really take time to care?
Who are the people fixing the grave on the side of the road? What is their story? If I saw them in wal-mart would I know that they lost a loved one? Would I be quick to judge their teary eyes?
Would I grant them grace if they were rude?Would I be to busy to hear their story?

What about the guy who works in a junk steel yard? Yes, he was covered in black. His face hidden behind a soot from his job. What is his story?
Who does he go home to? Why was his face so very down-cast. What is he thinking when he drives into his job every morning.

So many people out there. So many stories. So many broken spirits.

Today, I will try and watch for the 'moments of others.'


Lord help me live less for myself and help others live more.
Help me be a blessing that someone needs.
Help me to stand in the gap for others.

Waking up and hearing the familiar sounds of my life going on about me.

Then......my dream comes flooding back to me.
Slowly at first frame by frame and then as if pushing some
unspoken button in my mind the flood gate of my
tears start streaming.
I'm watching my dad swing and I want to go to him but
Scott is telling me we need to go. I'm pulling and watching my dad.
He is just swinging. He is waving and I'm yelling "Dad I love you."

I have to be honest. I never expected losing my father to be this hard. He
was not a huge part of my life in respect to my day to day.
I never thought that I would be dealing with grief this some 8 weeks after his death.
I walk, I talk, I laugh, I teach, I love and I grieve all at the same time.
Some days I laugh often, other days I cry alot. I remember him everyday.
Oh I wonder if his face will always be where I can remember.
I don't want to forget the 'good things.'

Seeing someone that has died in a dream is the strangest thing. It's comforting in a way like
a summer thunderstorm is comforting.
You look out your window and know that this part of
summer.
Just as the leaves falling are part of fall.
I'm comforted that grief is a process and I'm comforted by a dear friend that reminds me often to take it slow.( thanks Kat)

So for today I ride the wave of grief and pray that tomorrow will be a smaller wave.

A good cup of steaming hot coffee with my love, a kiss goodbye, a chair, a sister. a secret.
The smile that I shall not soon forget etched in my memories. A broken cup, hand prints on my windows, I can't seem to keep them clean. The hot suds that will wash my dishes. Oh my, spilled milk. Up turned cereal bowls to get the last drop. The brisk feel of a fresh fall morning.
The moments of my life and it's not even 7.30am.
Oh Lord help me to Glorify you in all I do and say today.
Help me see the Little things that make up a moment of my life.
Lord you have assigned me my portion and my cup runneth over.
You have made my lot secure.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places. Psalm 16

Prayer for our house

"Oh God, make the door of this house wide enough to receive all who need human love and fellowship, narrow enough to shut out all envy, pride and strife. Make its threshold smooth enough to be no stumbling block, but rugged and strong enough to turn back the tempter's power. God, make the door of this house the gateway to Thine eternal Kingdom, through Jesus Christ our Lord,Amen"

From Mrs. Dunwoody's Excellent Instructions for homekeeping

What my boys have been up to.

Being a mom of four boys I have to make sure they are learning to be men one day.
This keeps me busy.
I'm always amazed at their energy and their ability to wrestle while doing chores.??
Their minds are always ready for a battle....
I have the incredible job of keeping those minds on the task 'at hand.'
I'm teaching them about strong men of the bible and of the past..
They always help their dad when there is a job around the house..
Of course they are the ever protectors of their sisters.....
I love being in their world. I love being their mom.

The hayfields have been harvested....

As the winds of Gustav blow across our land and into the faces of my
daughters I'm reminded of how mighty God's hand is. We are six hours
north of the storm and yet the same wind that threatens millions on the
coast can be felt by us also.
In the same way that the power of the storm can be felt at such a long distance
so do our actions carry forward into our future generations.
How we choose to train up our children now will have powerful consequences
later.