Twenty-six years today . . .

I've been married to my high school sweetheart, my hometown boy. My parachuting Pararescueman, who told me after three years of dating that he was joining the Air Force* to learn a foreign language and become a translator. Sounded safe enough. Will you marry me? Sure. Whatever. Twenty six parachuting, repelling, deploying, mountain climbing, scuba diving, flying all over the globe, years later. Here we are. In case you wonder, he never did learn a foreign language. How boring would that have been?

Ten moves, fourteen different "nests", three birds . . . and then another, one bird flown to follow in dad's footsteps, our China bird finally home, another bird married--and flown, and now another getting ready to fly . . .

Empty nest? No way. Crazy nest? Yes. Transitioning nest? Yes. True love? Yes. Wedded bliss? Not always. Hard work? Yes.

Worth it? Oh yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!

Twenty-six years of yeses!

I love you babe, with all my heart--and then some! (Big bunches, really big bunches.)

Blessings from our anniversary celebrating nest ~

Tina

Memorial Box Monday ~ The Lemonade Stand

It's time to share another story, and place another

treasure in our Memorial Box. For my full scoop

on what a Memorial Box is see this post, which

will also link you to my friend Linny's blog

-- where Memorial Box Monday got it's start!

Memorial Box Monday ~ The Lemonade Stand

We began Teddi's adoption in June of 2007, just one day after seeing her face in an email I had received from rainbowkids.com. We were in love! A couple of weeks into the paperchase Taylor decided that she and Brogie were going to do something that would help get us one step closer to China, and their waiting sister . . . they were going to have a lemonade stand.

I was a bit skeptical. The base house we were living in at the time, was off the beaten path. I wasn't sure how much "lemonade traffic" we would get. Still, we made a trip to the store for lemonade mix, some lemons, and some clear plastic cups. We came home and I mixed up two gallons of lemonade, while Taye carefully cut the lemons into wedges-- wanting each cup to have its own pretty garnish. We also made a nice big sign that read, "Help us bring our sister home from China!" (of course we graced it with a picture of Teddi's cuteness). My entrepreneur and her helper were ready to set up shop . . .

Still, I was concerned that getting customers was going to be a problem. My very optimistic nineteen year old told me not to worry-- she had a plan. She was going to load up a small table, two chairs, the lemonade, lemons, cups, ice, and sign, and her three year old brother, and find a spot to set up business. I wasn't even sure we were even allowed to do this on our military base, but I wasn't going to be the one to stop her. So they left, and I prayed (with my doubting little heart), "Lord, would you please make this successful, and bless Taylor's efforts."

Taye drove about three blocks from the house, to a grassy corner near one of the main intersections on base, and they set up shop. It was June in south Texas, it was noon, and it was HOT. It wasn't long before my cell phone rang, Taye's excited voice was on the other end, "Mom, people are stopping, they are giving us donations, one man just gave us a twenty!

The Lord was indeed blessing my babies efforts! About an hour later, I grabbed my camera, and a chair, and I headed for the corner where the kids had set up shop. I was going to go get myself some ice cold lemonade . . . and some pictures of my babies doing business. I got to the corner and parked, and Taye was just finishing loading up her truck. The lemonade was gone (as was my photo-op). They had just sold their last cup.

The salesman on a later date.

One daughter with serious faith.

One sweet, yet sweaty, three year old brother "helper".

A flock of thirsty (and generous) customers.

Two gallons of lemonade . . .

SOLD!

To the tune of . . . . . . .

$97.25 in one very blessed hour and fifteen minutes!

Sometimes God's generosity just blows me away!

I ran across the lemonade sign in the closet a few weeks after Teddi came home from China. I thought it would be fun to see our girl in person, holding the sign, that one year prior had held all of our hopes.

A lemonade dream come true. The Lord's provision. A sweet girl home forever.

Father, thank you that when my children came with childlike faith you blessed them so very generously. Thank you for the hearts of thirsty strangers, who blessed us, and played a precious part in bringing our Teddi girl home. Thank you for lemons, especially for the one (pretend of course) that will go into our Memorial Box, to remind us of Your unfailing goodness towards us!

He is good. Always!

Blessings from my nest ~

Tina

Beautiful Mess

In my perfectionist way of thinking--this is how my children's (the Littles) room should look. Just like the photo I took for our homestudy packet . . .

In reality, this is how my children's room more often looks. It is continually "under construction" with one project or another, of their own doing . . .

a new fort . . .

the inventory taking of their own personal "junk toy" totes . . .

tinkertoy creations, that of course must stay for days,

to be enjoyed (and tripped over).

Then there is the living room. One minute (and I do mean one minute) it's neat and orderly . . . but I turn my back and waaa laaa-- "the leaning tower of anything stackable" appears.

What?

Or a fort made out of a year or so worth of Highlights magazines . . .

Of course we can always transfer the Highlights magazines to the sunroom to make a drawbridge for the castle. It's the perfect addition to the pile of "hey, I want that" cardboard, pulled from the recycling bin.

Just steer clear of the pile of muddy clothes and shoes, as you build, guys!

Then there is the crafting table in the sunroom. My apologies for not having a photo so that you can ooh and ahh over its beauty. The table is an eternal mess -- interrupted only by things such as birthday parties, weddings, or special visits from company. (You know--occasions where we might actually need the extra tabletop to do something like . . . eat.)

I have been so stressed lately with trying to reach the housekeeping standard that I have set for myself. A standard that seems forever unattainable. A standard that I talk myself into believing everyone else can, and does, attain.

Amy G*rant has a new song out titled "Better Than A Hallelujah"--it's a beautiful song. The chorus says, "We pour out our miseries, God just hears a melody, Beautiful the mess we are, The honest cries of breaking hearts, Are better than a Hallelujah."

I had just dropped my two best mess makers off at school the other morning, when this song came on the radio. The Lord spoke two words to my weary heart as I listened to the chorus, "Beautiful mess." He continued . . . "The home you are stressing over. Comparing yourself over. Dreading dealing with. It's a beautiful mess. Beautiful because you have small children- gifts from me, to mess it up. Beautiful because there are things to make a mess with. Beautiful because you allow them to explore, and create, and be who I made them to be. Beautiful because I say it is."

Wow. Okay Lord. So after pondering this for a few days here's what I've come up with . . . I don't think what He is saying gives me a license to live in a constant mess, but it does cause me to look at the mess with different eyes. It also reminds me to stop comparing the state of my house to other people's houses.

I flipped my little daily calender a couple of days later, with this "mess" post already swimming around in my head. April 27th greeted me with some wise words from Mrs. Beeton's Book of Household Management. Isabella Mary Mason, universally known as Mrs. Beeton, wrote these wise words in 1861, at the wise old age of twenty five. (Have I ever mentioned how much I love Goo*gle?)

This is what the young Mrs. Beeton had to say about the way we should manage our homes . . .

"It ought, therefore, to enter into the domestic policy of every parent, to make her children feel that home is the happiest place in the world . . . this delicious home-feeling is one of the choicest gifts a parent can bestow."

A perfectly kept home screams, "Don't mess me up!" It screams, "Don't play here, don't play there, don't get that out!" In my opinion, it consumes hours, better yet days, that could be much better spent living life.

I'm still looking to find a happy place somewhere between beautiful mess, and organized and simplified mess. I think it's do-able. I am hearby laying down the unattainable standard of what I think my house needs to look like!

After all, the King and Queen of Mess, won't be little for long, and they deserve to live in a place that is the happiest place in the world . . . a place with that delicious home-feeling! I'm going to do my best . . .

Thank you Father for Your reminder of what is important in life. Thank you for your daily guidance in our lives. Please guide our steps--that we would not waste a moment on unnecessary tasks. Help us all to make our homes the happiest places in the world. In Jesus name, Amen.

Blessings from my messy, but deliciously homey, nest ~

Tina

Memorial Box Monday ~ The Nest

For a full scoop on MBM, see this post.

You can also visit Linny, creator of MBM,

@ A Place called Simplicity, here.

Memorial Box Monday ~ The Nest

In March of 2008 I began writing this blog. I thought and prayed, long and hard, about what its name should be. I wanted the name to be a reflection of who I am--and to glorify God . . .

I love birds, my mama loves birds, and her mama loved birds--it's in my genes. My grandma had a bird feeder directly attached to her living room picture window. She was constantly shushing us when birds arrived, so as not to scare them off. It was in my sweet grandma's living room that I found my love of birds.

My Taylor girl, now married, was my "Birdie" when she was growing up. It only made sense then, as we waited to bring Teddi home, that she would be my "little bird". My oldest bird, Bryce, had flown the nest a year before I began blogging. My life was in a time of transition . . . my nest was changing and growing . . . and blessed by the Lord, always. And so began this place of sharing my thoughts about the things that bless my nest . . .

When I began blogging we were nearing the end of a very long wait for our LOA, our Letter of Acceptance, from China. This was the last big hurdle we needed to jump, before we could fly to our little bird. At that time LOAs were coming in at an average of around 80 days or so. After taking care of a small glitch caused by the CCAA*-- because they thought we hadn't paid them, our long awaited LOA finally arrived on day 126. It was April 8th, and the Fed Ex Man was my hero that day! He was even gracious enough to smile for my camera (bet he didn't know he would get a second mention two years down the road)!

I know, I know, I said this post was about a nest--bear with me, I cannot tell a short story --you should know that by now! So . . . two hours after my hero made his most exciting delivery of the day, two other visitors showed up on my doorstep. Actually they showed up, just above my doorstep and they began to build . . .

a nest!

Of all of the many places they could have chosen to build their nest, Mr. & Mrs. Swallow had chosen the security of my front porch! I like to think that they knew my nest was blessed!

What a smile from the Lord-- on the very day that my really, really tough wait had ended. On the very day that brought us much, much closer to bringing our baby bird home. On that very day--He orchestrated a nest to be built!

The first nest attempt didn't go so well, and after several days of work, the dry dirt crumbled and fell. The Lord then sent rain (and with it, mud), and you have never seen two little birds work harder, and faster, than my Mr. and Mrs. Swallow.

In no time at all, their proud new abode was finished!

The picture above was taken on May 8th, Mother's Day--just five days before we left for China. Mrs. Swallow had since began the task of sitting on her eggs, and her Mister was never far off. Some nights they would even share the nest, snuggled up together. Perfect!

Our long awaited day, May 16th, 2008, finally arrived. The countdown read zero days. It was time to go to China!

We said goodbye to Mr. & Mrs. Swallow (well not really, but it sounds good),

and we left to get our own nest addition!

On May 30th, we arrived back home in San Antonio. We had our fifth bird!

And guess who else had their brand new babies?

Mr. & Mrs. Swallow . . .

five to be exact!

One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five!

Now how is that for God being in the details?

But there is more . . .

Last spring found me up to my neck in wedding preparations. It also found me teary at times, as I prepared my heart to let my second bird go. My "Birdie" girl was getting married, she was ready to soar. That is tough on a mama's heart.

Once again, the Lord would bring my feathered friends to share my busy days, and to reassure me. I could hear Him speak to my heart, "I know what you are going through . . . it's change, and it's hard. But it's new, and it's good."

You have nurtured . . .

and grown her . . .

and she's ready to fly . . . and fly she did!

I couldn't be any prouder of Bryce and Taylor, my two soaring birds.

That brings us to this spring . . .

I haven't shared this yet . . .

but my Brady boy is ready to fly. Oh yes he is. He has completed the last of his required homeschool credits, and is officially graduated. He leaves in three weeks for Spokane. He's going to share an apartment with Bryce, and spread his wings under the watchcare of his big brother.

Once again, my mama's heart is feeling that all too familiar ache. He was just a toddler . . . how can it be?

Guess who is sitting on the nest? Again.

Oh Lord, you are so good to reassure us when we need it, to give us signs that you are near-- if only we will watch. Thank you for allowing me the privilege to be the mama to five of the most precious birds. Thank you for giving me wisdom as I raise them, and the strength to let them fly when it's time. Thank you that no matter where they soar, You are there. Into our Memorial Box will go a tiny nest, as a reminder of Your perfect faithfulness.

Even the sparrow has found a home,

And the swallow a nest for herself,

Where she may lay her young--

Even Your alters, O Lord of hosts,

My King and my God.

Blessed are those who dwell in Your house;

They will be praising You.

Psalm 84:3-4

Blessings from my nest ~

Tina

Wordless Wednesday . . . Teddi Style

~ These were taken the day of Teddi's school rodeo --as we were leaving I asked her if she would please lean on the bike rack, for a picture. What you see was all her own doing. Totally Teddi. Have I mentioned how much I love this silly little girl?

Oops, that's not wordless is it? I have such a hard time with that. Wordless just isn't me. :)

Blessings from my nest ~

Tina

Memorial Box Monday ~ 112 W. Park

For a full scoop on MBM, see this post.

You can also visit Linny, creator of MBM,

@ A Place called Simplicity, here.

Memorial Box Monday ~ 112 W. Park

In July 0f 2002, our family returned to the U.S. after a three year tour in Okinawa, Japan. Our next assignment would be taking us to San Antonio, Texas. Before heading for Texas we took leave in Michigan, to spend time with our families. It was a wonderful time of catching up with loved ones after having lived so very far away. After two weeks or so of vacation, Bryan headed to San Antonio to "house hunt" and to begin his new job. The kids and I stayed behind in Michigan to soak up a little more summer, and to give Bryan time to preview houses.

Each evening Bry would call to check in. We didn't have the convenience of cell phones yet, so there were no hourly updates, no text messaging, and no "play by play" as Bry looked at house . . .after house . . . after house with the realtor.

We had been praying all along that the Lord would lead us where He wanted us. Yet, each day, Bry's house hunting report was the same-- too much money for the size . . . too crammed together with the neighboring houses . . . good price-- but needs too much work . . . not a good neighborhood . . . not a good drive to work . . . school system less than desirable. So it went for several tiring days, with each day being a little more frustrating than the day before.

At the end of the week, at the end of yet another phone update, there were still no houses on the maybe list. I prayed with Bry, "Lord, we KNOW that You have a neighborhood for us, we know that You have a house, will you please show us where it's at?"

Bry replied, "I need a sign. I need a really big sign."

I added to our prayer, "Lord, would you please give us a really big sign?"

The next day, Bry called again. "How would you feel about living in a small town, about 30 miles south of San Antonio?" (He went on to say that it was about the size of the Michigan town we had both grown up in-- pop. 4,000)

My immediate reponse was, "What is the name of the town?" Looking back, this question seems a little odd, since I really didn't know any small Texas towns. Nevertheless, that is the first thing that came out of my mouth.

Bry's answer?

"Devine"

"Divine?" (insert silent gulp)

Yes, with an "e".

"Uh, Bry, I think that might be our sign. Our really big sign."

And so it was that 112 West Park, in Devine, Texas, became our home for the next three years. You can't tell by the picture, but it was a sprawling house, with a very large addition that went off the back of the 70 year old original home. It had four bedrooms, two baths, a huge living room/dining room, and a game room that by itself was nearly the size of other homes we have lived in--no kidding.

It also had an overgrown back yard (that had been used as a horse pasture, yes-- in town), red shag carpet in the master bedroom, 70's wallpaper in the kitchen (and it was not vintage cute, I assure you), a sinking floor in the game room, a slowly falling ceiling in the living room --and other interesting quirks. Along with the horse outside, there had been several pets living inside, including cats--which means when we did our final walk through, my eyes swelled nearly shut. Nice.

Every small Texas town has a Dairy* Queen. Really they do. Just ask anyone from Texas. Of course this was where we went to celebrate our new home. Let's just say, at that point, I was finding the whole scenario less than divine. I went in the bathroom of Dairy* Queen, and. I. cried. Oh, yes I did.

It got better. Much better.

I prayed that the Lord would put anything, anything under that red-shag-allergy-laden-carpet, in the master bedroom. It was going to have to come out immediately. I walked in the house, our house now, pulled back a corner of the carpet . . . and shouted for JOY! Gorgeous hard wood floors. Divine!

My dad and step-mom came to visit from Michigan. They had the awful wallpaper down in no time! Cheery yellow paint nicely covered the old walls, and many other small jobs were taken care of too-- by my carpenter daddy! My in-laws came to visit and my mother-in-law made it her task to spend countless hours on a tall ladder removing a very girlie wallpaper boarder (again--horses) from Brady's room. My father-in-law completed many of the "honey-do" jobs, and beautifully rebuilt the backyard fence, as a surprise. Divine. The Lord provided someone from our new church to redo the falling ceiling, for a very good price!

The house that I had cried over, quickly became our comfortable home, and Devine became a place where precious memories would be made. There was my first driver-- Bryce, along with his first car. Small town homecomings, and proms. A big promotion for Bryan was celebrated at this address . . .

Our special delivery, Brogan, came home to Devine.

Bryce graduated high school in Devine.

and in the same graduating class with Bryce,

was a Devine native,

known as Frankie . . .

and now known as my son-in-law!

We now have forever ties, to that little Texas town.

Into our Memorial Box, will go a picture of the sign that you see when you drive into town. I need to have the Newly's take a pic, the next time they go. For now I will leave you with the words from the town website-- they read the same as the sign . . .

As we go through this life, things happen, times change, decisions have to be made . . .

Thank you Lord, that when we come to these crossroads of life, and we ask for You to give us a sign of direction, a really big sign, You answer!

Blessings from my nest ~

Tina

~ After three years in Devine, we were transferred to a base in Florida (and sold our Devine house--another God story). Two years later, Bryan received a new assignment back to Texas, this time at a different base, on the northeast corner of San Antonio. For now, we are happily living in base housing-- there is no red shag carpeting, but there are hard wood floors. For that I am grateful!

Wordless Wednesday . . .

Blessings from my silly nest~

Tina