Doing Life Together

40 Things Stay-at-Home Moms of Grown Kids Do…by Linda Carlblom

Posted on October 17, 2014 by Linda Carlblom

Here I am wearing my most frequent fashion accessory–a dish towel.

I’ve been a homemaker and stay-at-home mom since I became pregnant with my last child. Back then, it seemed easy to see why it was important to be home caring for her and her two older siblings. I mean, someone had to do it, and it may as well be one of their parents. Besides, I always dreamed of being a stay-at-home mommy. Isn’t that what all those years of playing with my dolls prepared me for? And my husband is a driven, hard-working man. So the traditional roles fit us very well. Staying home was a gift, a luxury if you will, to me, but it’s also a gift/luxury I give to my husband and family.

My youngest child is now almost nineteen. I suppose many women would start thinking of a second (or even first) career. But somehow, my husband and I still like my being home. We’re blessed that his income takes care of our financial needs. If it didn’t, maybe we’d make a different choice. My being home makes our life so much easier for us both.

But the inevitable question always comes from people who don’t get it. So what do you do all day? Here’s the short list.

Keep the house clean (a full-time job in itself).
Make meals.
Grocery shop.
Do laundry. This includes gathering, washing, drying, folding, and putting them away.
Keep up with the dishes.
Mow the lawn.
Pay the bills.
Sort through mail.
Empty trash and recycling.
Keep in touch with friends and family on behalf of both of us.
Post family news and pictures on Facebook.
Change sheets.
Buy household items that are wearing out or need replacing.
Take elderly parents to the doctor.
Babysit grandkids.
Plan Sunday school lessons and other church events.
Send notes of encouragement on behalf of us both.
Plant flowers.
Run various and sundry errands.
Take the car for maintenance.
Wait for repairmen.
Take the dog to the vet.
Plan family gatherings.
Do our banking.
Do the billing for my husband’s company.
Take my daughter for coffee.
Have lunch with my son.
Buy birthday, Christmas, and any other gifts.
Wrap said gifts.
Decorate for holidays.
Orchestrate social events.
Clean out excess stuff for donation.
Scrounge up paperwork for tax preparation or changes of insurance, etc.
Research stuff we might want to buy, or places we might want to go, or things we might want to do.
Take forgotten items to family members after they’ve already left for school or work.
Clean out the refrigerator.
Order and pick up prescriptions.
Make appointments.
Water plants.
Field phone calls. All. Day. Long. Usually telemarketers.

Obviously, I don’t do all these things every day, but they’re all things that take up my time. And that means they’re things my husband doesn’t have to do. If I was working outside the home, we’d have to do them all in the evening or on the weekend. I so admire women who juggle all these things after work and on their days off. I’ve done that too, and I know it’s far from easy. The luxury of having me at home even though I don’t have kids to care for is that I can do these things during the day throughout the week, so we have our evenings free to enjoy each other and our friends. We can play on the weekend instead of spending it doing chores. It reduces stress for us both and gives us more quality time together.

To us, that’s worth far more than a paycheck.

Are you a homemaker/stay-at-home mom of grown kids? How did you decide to stay home after the kids grew up? How do you spend your time? I’d love to hear from you in the comments.

Posted in Family Life, Life Transitions, Uncategorized | Tagged chores, empty nest, full-time mom, homemaker, Stay-at-home mom, what do you do all day | 12 Comments

The Day I Became a Friend of the King of Tonga…Judy Robertson

Posted on October 10, 2014 by Judy Robertson

The Day I Became a Friend of the King of Tonga

Bats! Skinned bats’ wings poked out of hand-woven grass baskets. Their tiny fox-like heads and beady eyes stared at me although they were dead and prepared for cooking. Bats are an island delicacy and would, no doubt, be part of the fare.

I sat awaiting my meeting with King Taufa’ahau Tupou IV of Tonga in a covered area next to the Royal kitchen. My gracious Tongan hostess had cinched a Tongan ta’ovala tightly over my dress so I’d be appropriately dressed for the King. However, the finely woven Pandamus leaf mat, which extended from my midsection to knees, made it hard to breathe. I sat straight as a board, sweat beading on my forehead.

The king’s chef busily prepared a sumptuous feast for his majesty and distinguished guests, which, I presumed, included the beady eyed fox-bats. And for that I’m glad I wasn’t invited. He could see me through a window and spoke to me, admiring my traditional dress. “You look beautiful, like a Tongan woman.” Amazing! I felt anything but beautiful, damp with sweat and hair done without benefit of hair dryer or curling iron!

We came to the Tongan islands representing South Seas Christian Ministries (SSCM), in August, 1998, leading a team of 12 young adults and five leaders for an outreach. The king lived 300 miles away on the main island of Tongatapu.

After settling into our hosts’ home we discovered a big celebration would occur during the next three days. The king himself would be on our island. We would see him in person, this monarch we’d only seen in pictures and all of us were excited.

Sunday our SSCM team attended the Wesleyan Methodist Church where his majesty and the princess attended. This island royalty sat across from us in beautifully carved chairs set apart from the congregation. We were escorted up front where a choir would generally sit, as honored guests. We couldn’t help staring. But no one could tell where the king cast his gaze since he wore very dark glasses.

After the service I mentioned to the pastor, Mosesi, my desire to give my book, No Regrets, to the king. Mosesi contacted the king’s secretary and the next day I was introduced to her.

After looking the book over and reading my personal note inscribed on the inside front cover, she suggested I give it to the king personally. “Although his majesty is quite busy with heads of state from all the Asian Pacific Parliament,” she told me, “I’ll try to set up an audience for you.” If the secretary could arrange it, the meeting would be on Thursday right before he left the island. It was an answer to my prayer, this rare audience with the king. I’m no dignitary, in fact I’m considered a “commoner” in Tonga.

On Wednesday, I planned to visit a village across the harbor with a SSCM team member, Joyce. Strangely, we couldn’t hire a “water taxi” even though we tried several fishing boats. Hot and thirsty, we walked to a sandwich shop, disappointed we’d been unable to reach our destination. We sat instead, enjoying a rare iced soft drink in the Bounty Bar.

Just as a waitress served our sandwich the proprietor announced; “Is there a Judy Robertson here? There’s an urgent phone call.”

On the phone I recognized the high pitched voice of Leisl, the leader of our SSCM team, “Judy, the king’s messenger has been looking all over Vava’u for you. You have an appointment with the king at 2:00 pm. Today!”

“Today? Oh my gosh! Thanks for finding me, Leisl.” Butterflies looped in my stomach. “Joyce, I’ve got an hour to get ready. The king wants to meet with me today instead of tomorrow!”

The ten minute walk to my Tongan hostess’s home gave me time to collect my thoughts. Lord, this king is only an earthly king but You are the King of Kings. I pray to be Your ambassador. I don’t have a clue what to say.

I told my hostess when she came into the house, “Tina, I have a meeting with the king at 2:00!”

Her eyes misted and she began singing, “God is so good, God is so good, God is so good He’s so good to me.” She hugged me and said, “You can wear my ta’ovala.”

The trickle of water from the shower barely rinsed the soap off me and my hair. Then my hair dryer refused to work. I slicked back my hair the best I could…it’s not my hair or my looks that’s important, it’s what I say to the king.

Tina brought in her prized ta’ovala and tied it tightly around my waist. She topped off my attire with another prized possession; a belt made of her sister’s hair.

Mosesi drove me to the king’s palace, let me out and pointed to the outdoor receiving area. I walked slowly over the grassy hill and sat on what appeared to be a chair for guests. It was graced with beautiful Tongan tapa cloth. Its natural background emphasized the dark brown designs hand painted on it. Suddenly a Tongan woman appeared motioning for me to move to the grass mat on the ground. “Only for the princess,” she motioned to the chair I sat on. Embarrassed, I sat on the mat with legs folded tailor-fashion, humbled, below the princess’ chair in the proper place for the “commoners.”

Soon, a uniformed guard escorted me to the front of the palace where the king, dressed in official royal garb, sat on the verandah facing the emerald blue Vava’u harbor. King Taufa’ahau Tupou IV stood and greeted me. I felt honored and at the same time mumbled a silent prayer; Lord, what do I say to this earthly king? Please give me words.

I handed him my book with my greetings scrawled inside. He said, “I am so glad to meet the author of this kind of book,” he said. “I am excited to read about this subject.”

Talking about the book put me at ease and we went on to other subjects of interest to the king, his travels, improvement to his islands, food and his exercise regime.

I felt strange talking small talk with this man who was used to visiting with all sorts of dignitaries. Why does he feel so comfortable chatting with me? I felt quite relaxed, too, visiting with this king even though we came from such opposite positions in life.

“Your majesty, my husband and I visited eleven of your beautiful islands. We’ve come for twelve years with teams from America to offer Bible camps for the children and assistance for the pastors and lay people. Is there any other way we can help in your islands?” King Taufa’ahau shook his head, no.

Our visit lasted one hour. His majesty, who just turned 80 the month before, was gracious to me and wished me well as our visit ended. In that brief hour I became a friend of the king of Tonga. Walking away from the palace down the dirt road, I realized the king didn’t want anything from me, he only wanted my presence.

As exciting as it was to be in the presence of this earthly king, even more exciting is that I have met the King of Kings. He too, doesn’t want anything from me, He only wants my presence. And not for only an hour here on earth….but for eternity.

And He calls me His friend, too. Imagine!

Posted in Celebrations, Faith, Friendship, Travel, Uncategorized | Tagged ceremonies, faith, thankfulness, travel | 4 Comments

Landing in Paradise . . . by Andrea R. Huelsenbeck

Posted on October 8, 2014 by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

A green, rocky jewel surrounded by sparkling blue was my first glimpse. As we flew closer, my heart pounded. My dream was coming true.

About two weeks after my mother passed away in 2004, I attended the famous Maui Writers Conference. My trip was planned long before the stroke that took my mother’s life. Part of me felt guilty for doing something so self-serving when I was still in mourning. Another part of me was ready to work—and to be blessed by beauty.

The Maui Airport was very open—meaning that there was no window glass. The breeze was free to blow right through the building. How exotic! I boarded a shuttle bus that would take me to pick up my rental car.

I had reserved the least expensive compact car. The agent cheerfully asked me if I would like to upgrade to a Mustang convertible for just $10 a day more. Quick calculations told me that would be adding $60 to my rental bill—much more than my budget would allow. I politely declined.

“We’re all out of Sentras,” the agent told me. My heart dropped. All the starving writers who were attending the conference probably reserved one. Why did they overbook? “But we will upgrade you to a Mustang for no additional charge.”

Wow. I felt as though I’d just won the lottery. I had never driven a convertible before. I’d only ridden in one twice in my entire life. Here I was, 51 years old, in Hawaii, driving a red Mustang convertible with the top down. It doesn’t get any better than this.

My rental car, in the hotel parking lot.

To save money, I had opted not to stay at the same hotel as the conference, but one several miles away. Also to save money, I declined a room with a view of the ocean and took one across the street from the beach. I had the directions all mapped out—basically a straight shot from the airport, with a left turn once I hit the Pacific.

When I saw the ocean, it took my breath away, and I almost missed my turn. I grew up in New Jersey near the shore, but I wasn’t prepared for the brilliant aquamarine of the waters around Hawaii. Add the hula of the palm trees—magic. Wow.

Bird of Paradise

The hotel sprawled across multiple acres of gardens. It was old, but charming. It was motel style, with rooms opening to the outside rather than to a hallway. The lobby had walls that folded up, so that during business hours it was completely open to the outdoors. My room looked just like the photograph online, neat and clean, spacious, and with a little balcony overlooking the grounds, shaded by tall palm trees. It even had a little refrigerator and a microwave. The bathroom had a high, glassless window up in the eaves.

Plumeria

Hibiscus

I took a walk around the grounds. Flowers bloomed everywhere—anthurium, hibiscus,bird of paradise, and plumeria bushes. What fragrance! The pool was the shape of the island of Maui.

I crossed the street and walked along the beach. Windsurfers dotted the bay. A totem pole stood like an exclamation point in the sand. The waterline here was very rocky—this was not a swimming beach.

The conference was a wonderful experience. I attended workshops, met famous authors, and pitched my novel to agents. But the most memorable part of the trip was landing in beautiful surroundings which so soothed my aching heart.

This piece is a response to a writing prompt from Jeff Goins’ 500 Word Challenge.

What was one of your most memorable days? Click the “Comment” link below to share or to see what others have written.

Posted in Travel | Tagged Hawaii, Maui, travel, writers conference | 8 Comments

Preserving Family Stories . . . by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

Posted on September 30, 2014 by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

Why does Vivian’s house have a false alarm?

The autumn our daughter Carly was two and a half, we admired the fallen leaves together. “But, Mommy,” she asked, looking up at bare branches, “how do the leaves get back on the trees?”

Our old house in New Jersey had a smoke alarm in every room. The one in our son Matt’s bedroom was directly over his crib. He loved that smoke alarm. A little red light on it blinked once a minute to show the alarm was operational. As an infant, Matt lay on his back, watching for the red light, gleefully waving his arms and legs every time it blinked.

In our old neighborhood, people invited trick-or-treating families into their homes on Halloween. Most children headed straight for the treat bowl. Two-year-old Matt walked right past it, located the home’s interior hallway, and checked for a smoke alarm. Then he’d return and with a satisfied nod, say, “Yep, they have one.” We joked that the next year we’d give him a fireman’s hat and a clipboard and he could be the fire inspector for Halloween.

When we were potty training Matt, my friend Vivian was training her daughter Tara. Matt and I would accompany Tara and Vivian to the bathroom to offer moral support. Once, when Tara was unable to perform, I said, “False alarm.” Later, Matt questioned me over and over again, asking, “Why does Vivian have a false alarm at her house?”

When our daughter Katie was little, she had an imaginary friend. Starlight lived an enchanted life. Starlight had everything Katie wanted. Starlight was permitted to do everything Katie wanted to do. In fact, Starlight was superior to everyone in every way. If Katie had to go to bed at 9:00, she’d protest, “Starlight’s Mommy lets her stay up until 10!” If someone commented on a friend’s pet dog, Katie would say, “Starlight has TWO dogs—and a cat!”

One of my husband’s hobbies is raising tropical fish. He especially loves the technology of water filtration. He read about protein skimmers and designed and built one himself. He then wrote about it in one of the aquarist magazines, which published his plans and his article. We were all very proud of his achievement.

Except for Katie. She sniffed and said, “Starlight’s daddy has a POWER skimmer.”

When I was a little girl in the 1950’s, most mothers stayed home to raise their children, and neighbors watched out for one another. My constant companion was Bonnie Ann, who lived across the street. Whenever anyone said something to her that she didn’t like, Bonnie said, “Mind your own business.”

Once when Bonnie and I were playing outside and planning to go up the street, my mother called out the kitchen window, “Andrea, it’s time for dinner.” Not wanting to go home yet, I pretended I didn’t hear her. As we passed my neighbor’s house, Mrs. Kelly, sweeping her front porch, said, “Andrea, your mother’s calling you.” Taking a page from Bonnie Ann’s book, I answered, “Mind your own business!”

One minute later my mother marched up Park Avenue, grabbed my arm, and led me home. There she lectured me on speaking to adults with respect. Apparently Mrs. Kelly had called my mother and given her an earful about how I’d told her to mind her own business.

Every family has funny stories about kids. Wouldn’t it be a shame if they were forgotten? How much better to preserve, share, and celebrate the anecdotes. Here are some ideas for how to do that:

When something cute or funny happens, write it down in your journal or in the child’s baby book.
Or, better yet, keep a notebook for each kid (the old-fashioned composition books with sewn-in pages are especially good for this purpose) and write down interesting or memory-worthy events.
Keep the notebooks with the children’s books and read them occasionally at story time, snuggling the child on your lap and pointing to each word as you read it. Even toddlers are eager to learn to read when the story is all about them.

Do you have any family stories? Scroll down and leave a reply below to share or to read what others have written.

Posted in Family Life | Tagged children, Doing Life Together, family stories, memoir, sharing life | 3 Comments

The Day Milo Went AWOL . . . by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

Posted on September 26, 2014 by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

California King Snake

As I was readying to leave for work one day many years ago, my daughter Erin, then fifteen years old and the last of our children to leave for school in the morning, breathlessly announced, “There’s a snake in my pants!”

Now, in some homes, a statement like that might be alarming. However, in our house, it was pretty typical.

Firstly, my kids tended to keep their clothes on the floor. Secondly, although we live in Arizona, we are surrounded on all sides by the greater Phoenix metropolitan area—unlikely a wild reptile wriggled in from the desert. It would probably be one of our resident serpents.

You see, my husband, Greg, an elementary school teacher, collected critters.

So my very logical response to Erin was “Who is it?”

“One of the black and white ones.”

Boy, was I ticked. I had recently flown to New Jersey to visit my parents. While I was gone, Greg went to a reptile show and treated himself to two desert California king snakes. I marched to the phone and called Greg’s classroom. “I just want you to know one of your new snakes is loose.”

“Hannah or Milo?” Greg asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Mom, it’s Milo,” said Erin, pointing to Milo’s tank with its screen lid ajar.

“It’s Milo. Someone left his lid open.”

“Where is he?”

“In the girls’ room. Erin found him in her jeans.”

“So, just put him back in the tank.”

“I’m not chasing a snake around! I have to go to work.” I knew from previous experience that I can’t pick up a snake. It’s not that they’re slimy. (They aren’t.) It’s just that they behave unpredictably, like standing up vertically. It creeps me out. I can’t deal with it. At least, not when I have a schedule to keep.

I wrote a note and taped it to the front door for then ten-year-old Katie, who would be the first one home after school. She also shared Erin’s bedroom.

Dear Katie,

Milo is loose. He was last seen in your room. Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you. I just don’t want you to be surprised.

Love,

Mommy

I chuckled to think what a potential burglar might think if he read this note. I guess I’ll rob the house next door instead.

When Greg got home from school, Milo was nowhere in sight. Greg offered a reward of $5 to whoever could find the snake. Katie and her friend Amber first sifted through all the clothes, toys and junk lying on the floor of her room. Then, they took all the stuff out of the closet. (When I insisted the girls put their clothes in the closet, of course they just kicked them to the floor of the closet. How convenient for a snake looking for a cozy place to coil up.) They spent two hours looking for Milo with no success.

Then thirteen-year-old Andy walked by and spotted him camouflaged among the miasma. Greg paid Andy the finder’s fee, and ended up paying Katie, too, for her effort.

Greg had to be the one to put Milo back in his tank. The rest of us were too scared. I’m sorry to say, all these years later, I still turn to others to take over when I’m afraid.

Have you ever been afraid of a pet? How did you handle your fear? Click on the Comment link below to leave a comment or see what others have written.

Photo by Gary Nafis. Permission to use the accompanying photo granted by this license.

Posted in Humor, Memoir, Pets | Tagged California King Snake, Doing Life Together, Fears, Pets, Snakes | 5 Comments

Celebrating the Small Stuff…by Linda Carlblom

Posted on September 19, 2014 by Linda Carlblom

At my house, we love to celebrate. We celebrate the usual stuff that most families do, like holidays and birthdays. But we also have been known to celebrate small victories like making it through a tough week (or sometimes even not so tough!), report cards (whether good or bad), a good dental check-up, or that a child finished a test in a difficult subject and now the stress of that is behind her.

It’s easy to get caught up in the busyness of life. We often rush from one thing to the next without a pause to stare wide-eyed at what we accomplished. Some things stand out large in our life picture, like a new book release or a job promotion, or straight A’s. But let’s face it, most of life is made up of smaller, but equally important accomplishments. These small things are what weave the very fabric of our lives. Zechariah 4:10 (NLT) states it this way, “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the LORD rejoices to see the work begin…”

So here are a few ideas to help you get your mind into celebration mode. Look for small things, small beginnings, to celebrate and keep your family’s attitude positive and upbeat. Things like:

The first sprout in your garden. Followed by the first harvest.
The first day of school.
A first tooth, and every tooth that falls out.
A positive note from a teacher.
A difficult report written.
Learning to ride a bike.
A good review at work.
An opportunity to share your faith.
The first day you start an exercise program.
A good mood.
A beautiful sunset.
A clean house.
The first time your baby sleeps through the night.
When your favorite TV show begins a new season.
A finished project.
Then there’s all those crazy, lesser-known holidays just dying to be celebrated. You can find a list of them here.

Now mind you, celebrations don’t have to be big or expensive. They can be as simple as putting on some music and dancing in the living room, packing a picnic and heading to the park, or having a compliment party where everyone takes a turn saying something nice about each person present.

Some of our small celebrations have turned into traditions. After doing yard work in the blazing heat, we always go to Sonic and get a Cream Slush. It refreshes us and gives us something to look forward to as we work. We’ve found ourselves saying as we work on a tough job, “This is going to call for a Cream Slush.” (Our favorite is the strawberry, in case you’re wondering.) It makes something not-so-fun into something fun.

The point is to pay attention to life’s positives. When we take time to stop and notice all our blessings, we’re apt to see more and more of them and it changes the trajectory of our lives. We become thankful and nicer to be around.

And believe me, that is a huge gift not only to our families, but to our own little corners of the world.

Share in the comments what types of things your family celebrates. How do you celebrate them?

Linda

Posted in Celebrations, Family Life, Uncategorized | Tagged blessings, celebrations, positive home life, small stuff, small victories, thankfulness, Weird holidays, Zechariah 4:10 | 2 Comments

The Garage of Doom . . . by Andrea R. Huelsenbeck

Posted on September 16, 2014 by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

The Garage of Doom

Please don’t judge me. I am about to share a source of great embarrassment for myself and my family.

In August of 1988, my husband and I and our then four children moved from New Jersey to Arizona. The day of our closing, we spent our first night in the house without any furniture.

The very next day Greg started his new job, leaving me to deal with the movers and the kids, who ranged in age from 21 months to 9 years.

At Greg’s suggestion, I instructed the movers to stack the boxes of stuff to one side of the garage, leaving ample space for us to park the car.

The movers ignored my instruction and dumped the boxes all throughout the garage.

During the next weeks, I found and unpacked the most critical boxes, in between registering Carly and Matt for school, finding a preschool for Erin, meeting the neighbors and familiarizing myself with our new surroundings. But are you familiar with the adage, new house, new baby? I soon discovered we were expecting child number 5, and my energy level plummeted. Unpacking took a back seat to just doing what needed to be done on a daily basis.

And of course, once the pregnancy was over, I had a newborn to take care of, and my rate of unpacking did not improve.

To this day, we have never yet parked a car in the garage.

Over the years, instead of the number of boxes in the garage decreasing, they multiplied, supplemented by bags and other random stuff. Sometimes when the kids were overwhelmed with the prospect of cleaning up their rooms, Greg would say, “Just bag up your stuff and put it in the garage. We’ll sort it out later.”

From time to time we valiantly attempted to deal with all the stuff. Once Greg lugged box after box of stuff out of the garage and into the driveway. Then a biker friend stopped by and invited him to take a ride. The call of the open road was stronger than Greg’s need for order, so he hopped on his Harley and told Carly to guard the stuff until he came back.

For the next hour, drivers stopped at the curb and asked Carly if we were having a garage sale. I finally had pity on her and moved everything back into the garage.

A couple of years ago, my twenty-something daughter Katie asked me, “Mom, when you and Dad die, what’s going to happen to all this stuff?”

I surveyed our vast empire and said, “Darling, when we’re gone, all this will be yours.”

Surprisingly, the look on her face was one of horror, not delight.

A friend of mine recently downsized to a smaller living space. She hired a professional organizer to help her whittle down her possessions. The professional asked her questions like “What’s the worst thing that could happen if you get rid of this?” They threw away everything that was truly garbage. Anything useful but superfluous the organizer put in her car, to be immediately deposited at Goodwill Industries after the session. When my friend got paralyzed by decisions like throw away or give to Goodwill, the organizer said, “Let Goodwill decide.” My friend calculated that she paid for 107 hours of assistance, at $25 a pop.

Since as of this writing I am still unemployed (see my previous post, In Transition), I theoretically have time to do things I couldn’t accomplish when I was teaching. And as horrifying as the accompanying photo is, I’ve actually made a sizable dent in this disaster.

I decided to benefit from my friend’s experience and save myself $2,675.00. At least once a week, I’ve been spending an hour chipping away at the clutter. I start with three doubled brown paper grocery bags. One for out-and-out garbage, one for recycling (you have no idea how many bags I’ve filled with papers from my grown children’s school days), and one to give away (a veterans’ organization sends a truck to our neighborhood on a regular basis; my goal is to always have something to give to them). I replenish the bags as necessary, usually filling as many as eight in a session.

Recently, I unearthed a couple of boxes that were part of that move from New Jersey. Inside were a number of family heirlooms—an Ethan Allen wall shelf I’ve been worrying about for decades, two needlepoint pillows that my late mother-in-law stitched, and an engraved silver cup that Greg’s Aunt Honey gave us when Carly was born thirty-five years ago. I feel great satisfaction that they have taken their rightful places inside our home.

Someday I hope to post a new photo on this blog—of our cars actually occupying the garage.

Do you have any suggestions to help this process go faster? Would you like to post a picture of your own garage? Click on the Comment link below to leave a comment or see what others have written.

Posted in Decluttering | Tagged Clutter, Decluttering, Doing Life Together, Garage, Organization | Leave a comment

The Next Thing…by Judy Robertson

Posted on September 12, 2014 by Judy Robertson

“The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing (Zephaniah 3:17 NIV).”

One of my weaknesses is failure to comprehend and accept the depth of God’s love for me, His imperfect child. Embracing His unconditional love often eludes me. Jesus, however, does not keep a score card of our failures. “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1 NIV).

When the disciples failed to stay awake and “keep watch” for Jesus, He didn’t chastise them, but said, “Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak…Rise! Let us go!” He’s telling us not to let our imperfections get us down but get up and start on the next thing.

Peter “broke down and wept” (Mark 14:72 NIV) when he recognized he’d so carelessly denied his Lord. But Jesus didn’t hold this against him and later told Peter, “Feed my sheep.” Peter did not become paralyzed by his failure. He did what Jesus instructed him to do. He did the next thing.

I’ve discovered that when I look back and despair over what I didn’t do and perhaps worry over what I think I can’t accomplish, it’s the start of a downward spiral that leads to depression. I need help remembering Jesus’ admonition to His disciples to “Watch and pray” because we are vulnerable to temptation even when we desire to do right.

As Jesus needed His disciples to pray, so we need others to pray with us as we face our Gethsemanes. Because we really are, “Doin’ Life Together,” I depend on my dear friends, writers who are traveling this journey with me to watch and pray. Time and again they have not only prayed, but have been there encouraging me in the next step God has planned for my life. And so I am, “Forgetting what is hehind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:13 NIV).

Posted in Life Transitions, weakness | Tagged despair, failure, friendship group, imperfect, weakness | 9 Comments

In Transition . . . by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

Posted on September 5, 2014 by tuesdayschildren100

Until a few months ago, I was an elementary music teacher.

Whenever I told people what my job was, they usually responded with something like, “That sounds like a lot of fun.” And it was.

But few people understand how demanding teaching music really is. I had a curriculum to teach. I had performances to prepare. If I wanted to take students on a field trip or have professional musicians come to school, I also needed to apply for grants to pay for it. I had to practice my own musical skills. And there are all the additional duties and volunteering which teachers are expected to do.

A teacher is never done. There’s planning to do, parents to call, papers to correct, web pages to update. There are meetings to attend, colleagues to collaborate with, professional development requirements to complete. And just when you think you’re hitting your stride, there are paradigm shifts in educational philosophy.

I was exhausted.

My husband, who had retired from teaching years ago, said, “Quit!”

It took me three years to take his advice.

Why so long? I wanted to line up a new job first. But there were few job openings for my skill set that paid more than minimum wage.

Finally, my fatigue became so debilitating that I dreaded teaching another year. I reluctantly submitted my resignation.

I am at peace with that decision.

I set a goal for myself—a new job by July 1^st. Not a teaching job. A job where, at the end of the day, you don’t have to do anything work related until your next shift.

When my deadline passed and I had no new job, I began to panic. Would our modest savings be enough to pay bills until I had a salary again?

I feel like a woman without an identity. I’ve devoted more than twelve years of my life to teaching music. Now I’m not a teacher anymore. Who the heck am I?

Friends who had experienced a jobless phase told me to relax and embrace my time off. This was an opportunity to do things I hadn’t done in a while—quilting, writing, taking an art class. I should refresh myself after all those years of stress. What a nice idea, but how could I enjoy myself when I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing?

Now that it’s the end of August, I’m feeling a little calmer. I’ve painted a room, and I’m setting up a study for myself. Then I’m going to paint my old study and turn it into a guest room.

And the job search is off and running. In the first few weeks after my resignation, I applied for more jobs than I had in the previous three years. There are more job openings out there now.

But everything happens remotely. Resumes are emailed. Applications are submitted online. If you’re lucky, you get an email acknowledgement, often containing a sentence like Due to the volume of applicants, you will not receive notification from us unless you are selected to interview. Interviews are conducted by phone. Then you get an email that says, After careful review, this position has been filled by another applicant whose work background and skills more closely fit our current need.

I know God isn’t finished with me yet. My daily prayer is that He will lead me to exactly what He wants me to do. I’m trying not to be terrified while I wait.

Have you ever been between jobs? How did you handle the uncertainty? Click on “Comment” just below to leave a comment.

Posted in Life Transitions | Tagged Changing Jobs, Life Transitions | 6 Comments

Doing Life Together

Posted on September 2, 2014 by tuesdayschildren100

Tuesday’s Children, our writer’s critique group, held its first weekly meeting roughly 20 years ago. Its purpose was to sharpen our writing skills through critique and encouragement. We write in many different genres, span decades in our ages, and are of varying marital statuses. The one thing that binds our group of roughly seven women is that we all want to glorify God in our writing and our lives. When we first started meeting, we didn’t know we would become one another’s lifelines that would keep us afloat in life’s rough waters.

Every Tuesday morning we gather to share coffee, sometimes tears, and always laughter. We’ve gotten one another through problems with children, debilitating illnesses, financial stress, deaths of loved ones, marriage breakups, and mental illness. Our feelings have been hurt, shared, and soothed. We’ve laughed ‘til we cried at stories of our children and grandchildren, airport mix-ups, writer’s conference memories, and jokes played on each other. But most importantly, we are simply present in each others’ lives, no matter what.

Prayer is a part of every meeting and is as vital as the manuscript critiquing we do. It allows us to be vulnerable and share the tough spots in our lives, receive immediate prayer support, and leave knowing God is already at work on the problem.

This is life at its richest—sharing it with close friends who point you to God.

I pray you have such a friendship group. But whether you do or not, this blog is for you. We want you to share in the hope and encouragement we’ve found, not only in each other, but in God. We’ll share our joys and struggles and you can share yours. We’ll even update you on our writing projects as they come along. So if you’re feeling blue today or if you’re riding cloud nine, you’re not alone. Let’s connect through this blog and share the journey. C’mon. Let’s do life together!