Stories I Won't Tell

Like some people, blogging is a form of therapy for me. It is also a way to record my memories so they can survive a muddled brain that is constantly pushing out wonderful memories in favor of needless information.

I have found a new therapy. Because of high gas prices, I am saving $100 a month by riding my bike to work instead of driving. Biking is my new therapy. I spend over an hour a day on my bike. That is a long time to ponder life, my relationships and God. Sometimes I think of wonderful things to blog about, but those thoughts are gone by the time I sit down in front of a computer.

My objective in blogging has always been to share about the positive aspects of my family. I am going to break this rule in order to explain why this is so important to me.

I don’t have very many good memories of my childhood. I didn’t have a bad childhood, I just don’t remember the good times. There is a reason for this. My family found it amusing to talk about the mistakes we made as children. Remember the time you …

… told your brother to run away.
… got kicked off the school bus for __________.
… blah, blah, blah. You really screwed up that time.

These stories are usually followed by laughter, but it is the strained kind that hides the underlying pain and embarrassment. My childhood memories are made up of these moments, not because they are memorable, but because they are recounted until the memory of me in my younger years only consists of bad decisions, broken relationships and hard times.

I don’t want this for my children. I am committed to not writing about their mistakes and lapses in judgment. I will not talk about how sisters fight, because I don’t want them to remember the fights. I want them to remember the hugs.


So for now, I am silent. Life is good. We are happy and healthy. The peace in our home is a haven found in between moments of strife. It is difficult for children to learn how to interact with their peers in a kind and caring way. It is unfortunate that as children we hone our social skills through conflict with our siblings. It is a blessing when we reach adulthood and are able to put behind past hurt and have a loving relationship with our brothers and sisters.

Maybe I am trying too hard to facilitate a healthy relationship between my girls. Maybe, like everything else that is important in my life, I should give this important task to God through prayer. After all what power do I have over the future relationship of my daughters?

This is something I will ponder on my bike ride home.

Amy Means Beloved

Twelve years ago she walked into my life and changed it forever. My brothers finance. The woman that he saw from across the room when God said, "She's the one." Two months later they were engaged and I was meeting her for the first time. My brother, Tod, brought her to the Tahoe timeshare where Jeff and I were staying. We got snowed in. It is a weekend that I will always remember.

My future sister-in-law, Amy, made such an impression on me. Before meeting me she spent several days with my family. My family was not too happy with me at the time. Jeff and I had been living together for a couple of months, and I knew she had been briefed on my black-sheep ways. What I remember about that weekend was the love and acceptance that she offered me. I finally had someone in my family that would love me for who I was, instead of who they wanted me to be.

Since that day, Amy has been central to my sanity, happiness and self-confidence. Before long she became my best friend and my sister. As sisters we have shared many experiences over the years. We have camped together in the wilderness of Utah, slept in an RV on the infield of California Speedway, skied together, and spent countless hours on the phone with one another.

Jeff and I flew to Colorado so we could be with Amy as she gave birth to my niece. It was the most beautiful event I have ever witnessed. Sixteen months later I made a 3 am phone call to her because I was in labor. She bought a plane ticket and packed her bags. Hours later she was flying from Denver to Sacramento with her one year old daughter. Thanks to 30 hours of labor, she was with me when Belle was born.

I thank God that he picked Amy to be my brother's wife. Sometimes I am selfish enough to think that God picked her to be my sister, and Tod is just along for the ride.

My beautiful sister,
Thank you for all you have meant to me. Thank you for being a tremendous friend, sister, aunt, wife and mom. I love you so much, my heart aches from missing you. One day I hope that God will allow us to live closer than the 500 miles that separate us now.
Happy Birthday.

Hugs in Heaven

After writing my Friday post, “In Memory of Oma”, I called my Opa. Christmas is hard for him this year; this is his first Christmas in over 60 years without his wife. During our conversation the only time I heard happiness in his voice was as he talked about my Uncle coming home for Christmas.

For those of you who don’t know, because I have never bothered to explain this, I live in Washington State. My family and Jeff’s family, with the exception of some siblings, live in California – 650 miles away. Jeff and I lived in the Central Valley of California until three years ago. Our family is there, as are our friends.

After my conversation with Opa I really wanted to be with him on Christmas. While this is a wonderful thought, it isn’t feasible. Jeff and I have committed to live within our means. We withdraw a fixed amount of cash from each paycheck and make do on that amount. Because of this commitment we constantly drive cars that need gas; our refrigerator and pantry are empty every Saturday. (I am not exaggerating; I have turned away people collecting canned food for charity, because I don’t have any food to spare.) Our decision to live on a meager amount has drastically changed our lifestyle. Taking a 1300 mile round trip to California is not an option.

The thought of going home for Christmas stuck in my mind. The only thing that would make it possible is a Christmas bonus from work. A Christmas bonus would be a miracle. Not because I don’t deserve one, but because I have received two bonuses already this year. It would be asking a lot to expect another one.

On Sunday I told Jeff, “If I get a Christmas Bonus AND it is over “X” dollar amount, I want to go to California.”

Ever since the words pass my lips, I have prayed and I have asked other people to pray for a bonus. Yesterday my prayers were answered. I received a Christmas bonus and that bonus was two times more than I needed to justify a trip to California.

Have you ever bought someone a present that you know they are going to love? You watch them open it with anticipation. You wait for their face to register the surprise and then the thrill of receiving that gift. I have this vision of God looking down on me as I “opened” my gift. I can see him smiling and feel his love and happiness for me. In response, I want to give God the biggest hug humanly possible.

The Feast of Saint Nicholas

One of our family traditions is the celebration of the Feast of Saint Nicholas. Saint Nicholas was a Bishop who served God by giving his wealth away to people in need. If you want to read more about his story, I recommend this website: "St. Nicholas, discovering the truth about Santa Claus".

Since this is only our 3rd year celebrating the Feast of Saint Nicholas, I managed to get my dates mixed up. Saint Nicholas Day is December 6th. Our family is honoring Saint Nicholas on December 9th this year.

We celebrate Saint Nicholas Day for a couple of reasons. When I heard the story of Saint Nicholas, I was thrilled to know that Santa Claus is derived from a real man who served God by giving gifts. I want my children to know the story of Saint Nicholas, just as they will know all about Santa Claus. The second reason we celebrate Saint Nicholas Day, is so we can wrap up and give Christmas Pajamas and Christmas Dresses to our girls before Christmas.

This year I wanted to present the story of Saint Nicholas in a way that would be entertaining to my children. I wrote down one of the stories of Saint Nicholas in a format they would like and created a makeshift book for our story time tonight. It was a big hit. I would like to share my creation.

The Story of St. Nicholas

A long time ago there
lived a boy named
Nicholas.

When he was young
his parents became
very sick and died.


Nicholas' parents left him with
more money then he could ever
spend.

But, he missed them very much
and felt sad.


Nicholas obeyed Jesus'
words to "sell what you
own and give the money
to the poor."

Nicholas felt happy when
he gave his money away.



Nicholas grew up
to be a Bishop.


This means he
worked at the
church and
served God.


Nicholas heard about
a very poor man with
three daughters.

The poor man wanted
his daughters to get
married, but he didn't
have any money for
a wedding.


One night Nicholas went
to the poor man's house
and tossed three bags of
Gold through an open
window.

The bags of gold landed
on the shoes that were
drying by the fireplace.


The next morning
when the daughters
awoke they found a
bag of gold in each of
their shoes.


The daughters were
very happy. They now
had enough money to
get married.



Tonight we celebrate
"The Feast of Saint Nicholas"
in honor of a man who
served God by giving gifts
to people in need.









All images were obtained from various websites using Google Images search.

What A Difference A Year Makes

Its time for me to come up with a Christmas letter to enclose with this years' Christmas Cards. I took a look at my 2006 letter to give myself some ideas. I thought I would share it with you.

We are excited to wish you a Merry Christmas. We have been very busy; let us tell you about it.

Belle will be 3 years old at the end of January. She loves creating “gates” made from a jump rope, aprons, strings of beads and anything else that ties. We find the “gates” at the bottom of the stairs, between doorknobs, chairs, and kitchen cabinets. Who knew that a she would be able to tie such elaborate knots at her age!

Ariel is now 1 ½ years. She is growing and changing so much. Recently she was “helping” Amy in the laundry room by removing clean clothes from the dryer. She grabbed a pair of her sister’s underwear and said “panties.” This was surprising. We had never introduced that word to her. Now we wonder what other words she has picked up and is waiting for just the right moment to share.

Jeff has taken on a new job. This summer, we decided to buy an investment house, to renovate and resale. We invited Jeff’s brother, Jon, up from California to work on the project. They have been working day and night 6 days a week on the house and it is nearly complete. It has been amazing to see all the ways that God provides for our needs.

Amy has been taking care of the girls and trying to keep the house in a reasonable state of disarray. On Jeff’s day off from the renovation, she goes to her job and takes care of all their office needs. When she gets home that night, she is excited to see her girls, and eager to spend another week with them.

Thank you for allowing us to share our lives with you. We hope your Christmas overflows with all the blessings that God has for you.

Now I have to get to work on my 2007 letter!

Thankfulness Part 2

Our Home

In my last post I told you that things got a lot worse before they got better. I don't want to write about how they got worse, after all it is Thanksgiving week. Instead I want to express my gratitude for retaining the one thing I was sure I would lose, my home. This year we had two houses up for sale. The house we flipped and our home. We never wanted to sell our home. The couple of months that it was on the market went something like this:

We put a for sale sign in front of our house and said, "Okay God, our house is for sale, but we aren't going to advertise it. If you really want us to sell it you will bring someone down our street."

A couple of weeks later we hired an agent and listed the house. "Fine God, we'll advertise, but we are not going to sell it for a penny under our inflated asking price."

A month later we lowered our asking price. "Please God, just get us out of the mess. I don't care what it takes. No material possession is worth this amount of stress and heartache." A couple of weeks later someone finally made an offer on the house we flipped. In July we sold the renovated house and took our house off the market.

I am so grateful that we were able to keep our house. Our neighbors mean so much to us. To leave this neighborhood would have been heartbreaking. Our kids have friends on this street. The stay at home moms on the street embrace and support my husband in his role as a stay at home dad. I am thankful everyday that I get to drive down this street and call it my home.

Thankfulness Part 1

A look at last year - My Marriage

January 2007 – It is Monday, Jeff is taking the day off from flipping the house so I can go to work. I am taking a shower and trying to focus on what I need to do today. My mind keeps drifting to the argument I had with Jeff last night. The financial and emotional strain of flipping a house is pushing us apart. I told him that we are going to run out of money unless we sell the house by March. He told me that there is still so much work to be done. Why can't he get this house done?

My life is out of my control. Flipping this house is Jeff's project. He makes all the decisions while I stand by and pray for results. I don't like not being in control, especially when things are going badly. I am so mad. Mad that Jeff is working six days a week on the house and not getting anywhere. Mad that he is spending all our money. Mad at him for not being able to find a job for 3 years. Mad at him for getting fired from a very good job in the first place. Every decision that Jeff has ever made is now under my scrutiny.

And then a little voice in my head says, “Why are you blaming Jeff for everything that has gone wrong, while you praise God for everything that has gone right?” It’s a good question. I gave God all the credit for the job Jeff had in Sacramento. I attributed all our sound financial decisions to God. I thanked God for providing for our needs, regardless of where the provisions came from. Why does God get all the credit and Jeff get all the blame? Why do I assume that Jeff has a handle on the events that are out of my control? Isn't his life being turned upside down just like mine?

My bible study leader recently said, “It’s okay to be mad at God, he can take it.” So I shifted my anger. I got mad at God for this mess we were in. I ranted at God for all the things that had gone wrong. I got pissed at God that Jeff lost his job. I was furious for the lost of our financial security and for the delays on the house we were flipping. I screamed at God for putting all this pressure on my marriage. I vowed to never forgive Him if my marriage fell apart.

Two noteworthy things happened when I got mad at God. First, I didn’t get struck by lightning. Second, I wasn’t mad at my husband anymore. Instead I became sympathetic to Jeff and the challenges he was facing.

My reflection:

In 2007, Jeff and I celebrated ten happy years of marriage. My realization in the shower that morning was a significant event for me. In the months that followed our situation got much worse before it got better. We were able to face these events as a team, supportive of one another. I am thankful for that.

What have you learned that has significantly affected the way your relate to your loved ones?