Possessed!

Come on. Admit it. You know you like having stuff.

You have stuff everywhere.

In the front hallway, the kitchen counter, on the reading chair or sofa, in the closet, the junk drawer, the attic, the crawl space, the dresser drawer, the sideboard, the shed, under the bed, on the wall, on bookshelves, in file drawers, all piling up in an endless accumulation of items which will ultimately turn out to have very little impact on the quality of our lives.

A wise friend of mine once replied to her child who had just stated, "Oh, I just love that such in such!", with "We do not love things. We like things. We love people."

Well said. I've taken that statement to heart.

My friends may find me a bit extreme on the subject, but secretly, they want me to come over to clean and organize their offices for them (shout out to Trish). And while they secretly want me to come and clear out the unnecessary clutter, they would certainly have a conniption over every tossed item.

Fess up. You know it's true. Purging, if you are not accustomed to it, is very difficult.

Our house has a rule.

If we haven't touched or used or spoken about a material item within the year, we give it away (shout out to Jason and daughter Linnea who are loving their "new" rocking chair), consign it (shout out to Monica at Hand Me Downs), or donate it (shout out to Junior League Thrift House).

And lest you think that my children would rebel against this type of thinking, take in these words by Zane, as he did a possession review (shout out to Angie) on Christmas Eve of all days.

"Mom, I can give this box of blocks to a new kid. I have so many other blocks."

See, we've been doing this since they were babies. It started with a mountain of stuffed animals that had taken over Harper's bedroom as a toddler. We would hold up a stuffed and furry item (as long as it wasn't Snowman (shout out to Raymond Briggs), or another for which she had developed a true affinity) and ask, "Keep? Or go?" Harper would then decide the fate of the said stuffed creature.

Frankly, my kids do not have a lot of toys. Of course they have their favorite toys - those stay put. But the stragglers? The one's they've outgrown both in age and interest? Buh-bye. And they have even less from our clean-out the day before Christmas. For standing in the hallway is a large box filled with toys that they, THEY (not Mom), have decided to donate. Yes, I oversaw the process with my traditional, "Keep? Or go?" questions as I held up items. And yet, I respected their answer by either returning the item to its place or dumping it in the donation box.

It can be done.

We started early.

A yearly possession review is, and I shudder to think that I am about to quote Martha Stewart, "a good thing."

But wait. I'm not trying to get all high and mighty or uppity on you. My kids rooms are a mess. Harper's desk is a frenetic, scattered mess of stickers and papers and little chotskies, leaving no room for it to be used as an actual desk. I wouldn't dare touch those special items. Zane's room is a dangerous terrain of blocks, matchbox cars, and action figures with sharp weapons that seem to camouflage themselves until a parent's shoeless foot comes into view.

So, no, I'm not announcing perfection here.

But let's help our children make choices and decisions about their possessions while they are young. For maybe, just maybe, their generation will make wiser choices with their spending then ours has.

Countdown to Detox

If you follow my blog, (and thanks if you do), then you know that I am pretty transparent. I have no problem sharing my honest innards. You may find this pretty crazy, or self serving (a need for attention). I find it freeing.

Whatever.

Many of you have also watched the process we've been through with Harper since Kindergarten. You've watched us move through confusion, fear, frustration, evaluation, prognosis, and treatment. She has come out of the entire process with flying colors. In fact, we are now in the stage of giving her "vacations" from medication on the weekends. I've written about how much she has grown in previous posts, so I won't rehash that. Simply put, she's doing great. If you have read everything I've posted about Harper and then happen to meet her for the first time, you might demise that we are delusional regarding her ADHD. Sometimes I even wonder if she is still struggling underneath her incredibly humorous, brilliant, and vivacious outer shell.

You have also watched me, in an attempt to adapt to the happenings of the last two years, leave behind a coaching business, open a home business, communicate my heart and soul through writing, and attempt to regain a "normalcy", only to find that "normalcy" is a fallacy. If we keep hoping for normal, we reject the present blessings that God has given us each day. I trust and believe that "His mercies are new every morning". And yet in my attempts to find strength and power in our "new normalcy", I have struggled abysmally.

Harper has been doing great now for 6 whole months.

I however, have never returned to the optimum health that I lived in 2006.

Eating healthy? No. Consistent exercise? No. Organized house? I know, I know, many of you think it's ridiculous that I would describe myself as disorganized, but I am. Memory loss? Frankly, my short term memory has had some scary little dips. Spiritual life? Actually, pretty good thanks to Moms R Us and singing in the band, but my personal devotion times have been a constant struggle. Fellowship? Yes, but many times I'd rather just stay home. Retreating from getting together with people or leaving behind activities that were once fun? A little. I probably have the lingering effects of a non-diagnosed bit of depression. The days exhaust me. I'm irritable. Impatient. My brain and my body are fatigued.

I will be 40 this year.

Thank you. I don't think I look it either.

I will be 40 this year and I will NOT enter this year in defeat. I will return to optimum health. But, doing so will take a hefty commitment and a change of lifestyle. I need to break out of the terrible habits that were adopted over the last two years.

And thanks to an impromptu comment from a friend of mine - whose comment I truly believe was voiced through the Holy Spirit - I will be embarking on a journey to seek health by unconventional means.

Beginning on Friday, with the help of a new Doctor (a chiropractor/acupuncturist/nutritionist) who has a commitment to treating Pastor's and their families for free, I will be starting a 21 day detox plan to begin purging all the muck I feel inside. What muck?

Little do you know that I wake up feeling "hungover" every morning. Without caffeine I can't get going. Period. I am in a constant fuzzy or scattered state. I have developed chronic neck and upper back pain. My hip joints hurt. Playing anything physical with the kids knocks me out. I am exhausted by 5 or 6 and don't want to leave the house. I have sinus infections and what I believe to be undiagnosed allergies - and I really don't want to resort to merely taking allergy med's, as I think some natural remedies will actually be of more help. I struggle over making healthy meals and end up binge eating. It's like I'm ADD. Seriously. This is no way to live. At least, not for me.

This is not me.

So, I will enter a 21 day detox, during which time I will most likely remove gluten, sugar, and who knows what else. Yep, it's a flush of the entire system. Should be really pretty. I will also be meeting with the Doc weekly for adjustments and stretching.

All free.

It is such a gift. It's unbelievable that my friend even mentioned the guy - as we weren't even talking about health at the time. And it's no surprise, as the Holy Spirit just loves surprising us, that after this conversation came a second similar one with another friend, completely unrelated to the first. She too shared her remarkable results through a 21 day detox program. Maybe unconventional methods are catching.

I am excited. Really excited. I don't feel like me and I need to feel like me again. I think I am most excited to have someone else developing a plan for me rather than attempting to do so myself. I'm a pretty good rule follower and will follow a plan that is handed to me. I do not, however, have the patience to create one for myself.

What can you do to help? Support it. If we're out and about and I refuse to eat or drink something, don't press me with "Oh, come on. One little bite can't hurt." This is not helpful. Just be supportive. I can pig out with you some other time. Hold me accountable. Take it seriously with me.

I'll keep you posted on the results . . .

Time to Accessorize!

Either wear the darn thing or don't.

You can choose to wear it.

You can choose not to wear it.

But if you choose not to wear it, or decide to remove it after realizing that responsibility actually takes some personal sacrifice, please don't complain that things aren't getting done, or that needs aren't being met. Admit that you don't want to wear it. Or bear it.

Know that your actions, the actions of even just one person, are relevant and powerful and can indeed contribute and lead to change. Don't follow a crowd who expects others to move mountains. Accept and walk in a manner which reveals to the world that you believe in your heart that God is present, that you know in your head that He is working, and that He has equipped you to join Him. Your actions do matter. Your actions do count. Your actions affect other people. Your personal actions do indeed affect other people.

Make a decision.

Either wear it.

Or don't wear it.

The responsibility of making the initial decision to wear the bracelet is yours, and yours alone, to make. Come on. You know how to dress yourself . . . choose your own jewelry. You don't need Clinton and Stacey to help you decide on this accessory. If you choose to remove it, and you can, as you do have free will, please don't make the excuse that someone else made you to do so.

Let's stop making excuses as to why we don't take responsibility.

Let's own our personal decisions.

Let's accept and admit our personal responsibility.

Warning. I didn't say doing so was easy.

Taking responsibility for our words and actions has become blurry. Being "others focused" has turned into a blame game for our own missteps. Whereas shouldn't being "others focused" actually mean loving and serving others and putting the needs of others before our own?

Let's put the blame game away and choose another activity.

And before you get all up in a tizzy, know that I am speaking to myself just as much as I am to you. Whoever you may be.

Responsibility is hard. Sacrifice is uncomfortable. Confronting our true thoughts, words, and actions (or non-actions) can be embarrassing.

And yet ultimately, we don't ask other people to wear our accessories for us, right? So get dressed.

Wear your own responsibility.

Wow! That looks great on you!

Matthew 5:33 "But let your statement be, "yes, yes' or "no, no' and anything beyond these is of evil."

Best Quote of the Week from My Sister

"The words "throw" and "cat" should not be used in the same sentence. Find another hobby!"

Wow'd By Reconciliation: It IS Possible

Simply put, we, as Christians, are CALLED to be different. We are CALLED to be in this world, but not "of" this world. We are CALLED to treat others as we would want to be treated. CALLED.

Sometimes I fail to answer.

Reconciliation IS possible. Jesus did not just speak to it, he lived it. And died for it. His forgiveness is not conditional.

Sometimes I make it conditional.

You've read over the last few weeks how I have struggled. I am not perfect. Today, I was able to have a conversation with my "trans guy" in response to a comment he left on my blog. I didn't simply comment back. I called him. Immediately. During our phone conversation, I thanked him for his apology and shared how Jesus has been working in my life to reveal to me how our auto drama is less about the actual car, and more about the need for humans to work alongside one another towards reconciliation in matters that, for lack of a better word, suck.

Big Picture vs. Little Picture.

Ultimately, it's not about the car. It's about people.

In the future I will make every attempt to wield my blogging power for good.

I've had a good, strong cup of Reconciliation Blend this morning.

Enjoy a cup on me.

The following Comment has been re-posted with permission

Cuppa Jo.

First of all, I'd like to sincerely apologize for the experience you are having with your car. It sounds terrible. In our daily business we strive to provide our customers with the best quality and service. Unfortunately, on occasion, for one reason or another, we fall short of that goal. Believe me, I personally spend many hours lamenting over situations such as these. But they do happen sometimes none the less. Ultimately, all we can do is everything in our power to rectify the situation and do our best to make amends. Rest assured that we are working diligently to get your car back to you with the transmission in perfect working order.

Upon return of your car we will also be giving you a $200.00 Target gift certificate to show our appreciation for allowing us to serve you. This is not something we do only for someone with a blog page, but for any customer who is not 100% satisfied with our company.

Furthermore, although cooler line hoses only break on rare occasions,and we do visually inspect them, we are currently implementing a program to more closely examine every line and replace any hose that shows even a minute sign of wear to avoid any future problems. It is my belief that the Internet and blogs such as yours can only help to improve relationships between businesses and their customers. I do not fear this technology, I embrace it.

I only wish that we had been aware of your situation sooner, and for that I am truly sorry.If you have any questions or if there is anything more we can do for you at all please do not hesitate to call us at 888-808-1066 and ask for Joe.

Thank you,

Gator Transmissions

The "Trans Guys"

The Beans Spillith Over

I began blogging when Harper was 3 months old, which also happened to be during the time in my life when I was still auditioning quite regularly for commercials.

A few times a week I would traipse downtown to David O'Connor Casting, circle the area to find a parking place, sit in the waiting room with the other hopefuls, perform a glorious audition lasting, oh, say, 5 minutes, get back in my car, and trek the hour (with traffic) home again. As I was being called in with some regularity, I began a blog to share with my family the details about my auditions: how I felt, what I wore, whether I would change my delivery, the result, etc. Never once did I hesitate about what I wrote, or censor my words.

One day, however, as I was exiting the casting office after an audition, I was I stopped cold in my tracks by David O'Connor himself as he announced with a grin, "Joline, I really enjoy The Audition Chronicles."

It took a moment to register what he had just said, but once I realized that he was referring to my blog (which was indeed called The Audition Chronicles) my insides turned to jello. WHAT???!!! David O'Connor had read my blog. David O'Connor, one of the biggest casting director's in Chicago had read my blog. Any flattery I may have felt disappeared quickly as my mind raced to weigh the situation. At the very center of my racing thoughts one stood out: had I written anything negative about David himself?

It was on this day that I was hit square in the face with the reality that blogs are public. Very public.

I mumbled some incomprehensible response about my parents living out of town and my wanting to give them the details of all my auditions, blah, blah, blah, panic, panic, panic. I stumbled. I muttered. I think I may have spit or drooled during this exchange. Regardless, I came out looking like a buffoon.

I called George immediately and told him to read through posts to see if I had ever said anything derogatory about David himself. You know how temperamental actors can be: blaming a bad audition on the casting director. (Not that I'd ever had a bad audition . . .) He assured me that all was OK. But, I was quite flustered and sure that I would never be called into his office for an audition again. I also wondered how he had found my blog. And concluded that it must have been due to googling either the name of the casting office, David O'Connor Casting, or, (as if the next option was even a remote possibility), me.

My next post detailed what had transpired and included a "hello" to David himself.

I never heard another word. And it wasn't the end of my career. Catastrophe averted.

Since that experience, I have continued blogging and have often struggled with the question of when and when not to "spill the beans", so to speak, or, rather, so to "write" when blogging about specific situations that I encounter as I stroll through life.

I am pretty vulnerable. To be sure. And yet, there are several experiences which I choose to keep off the public airway that is the Internet. I don't bare it all. I'm not a blogging pole dancer.
And yet there are those experiences which I share with complete freedom and candor of opinion.

The debate over spilling the beans in a blog certainly arises when one, like David O'Connor, actually locates a blog in which he is mentioned.

Take today.

In this case let's say that the someone who has located my blog is, oh, I don't know, let's go with, MY MECHANIC. And the mechanic's "trans guys".

Google is a really good search engine.

George talked with the owner. He requested that we remove any reference to his shop or the "trans guys". George talked with me. We came the conclusion that since we are working really hard at actually reconciling our relationship with our mechanic, I would agree to remove all references to the actual companies involved. Not the posts, mind you.

Did I struggle with this decision?

Um, yeah.

For the readers that have been following our auto drama, I hope that you can see the shift I have begun to take from my earlier posts which communicate sheer anger and wrath, to my most recent attempt, however feeble, at forgiveness and reconciliation. This is where I struggled over the request that I edit my posts. As, what I have tried to convey with my most recent post was how we are working very hard at repairing and reconciling with this business. After all, they did reimburse us for the taxi and the tow, loaned us a courtesy car, honored their warranty, and credited us back the entire amount for the transmission until which time the work is done and we deem it sufficient. So, yes, they have worked with us. I see this. I am thankful for this. I can not, however, continue to mention them in my blog.

Putting aside all the frustration I've felt towards them, I must say that I doubt other businesses would give us the personal attention they have. In terms of trying to do the right thing by us (based upon their actions that I've mentioned above) they are striving to be above board.

And yet, the situation has been completely inexcusable and unacceptable. Thus, I still struggle with having to edit what I have written - even though I understand that the goal is reconciliation. Yeah, some of you would say, "The goal is getting your car back! What about that!" That is the earthly goal. The bigger goal is to "Treat others as you would want to be treated", which is a much harder goal to reach due to all the pride and personal effort I have wrapped up in my little blogging world.

For this reason, I have agreed to remove all references to the parties involved. Don't think for a moment that I am totally sold out on this or that I am just trying to be all high and mighty and righteous with my decision. For honestly, it sucks a little.

I'm just trying to do my part in cleaning up the mess of spilled beans.

One by one by one . . .

Ideal Mornings

Yeah, no, this isn't me.

But, the photo feels like me. At least it feels like the me of the last two days. It's the me I wish to see. Without the hunching over, as I still have knot's in my back from sitting at the computer with horrible posture, and stressing over my schedule for the Fall. Read on.

I've had two ideal mornings. The ideal I have in mind for myself. The ideal which includes waking up and getting everyone where they need to be and then returning home to sit and write for the PR gig, while enjoying a non-rushed cup of coffee, and then using the remainder of the morning to make the Mary Kay phone calls and follow ups that I need to in order to continue building my business.

Tuesday found me writing a release and then booking appointments.

Wednesday found me writing a release and then booking appointments.

Tomorrow will find me . . .

Teaching.

I'm struggling with it. I'm praying about it. I'm sensing the need to do some readjusting for my Fall schedule, which at this point only allows me one morning a week without somewhere to be. Monday morning: bible study (non-negotiable), Tuesday morning: Zane day (no school), Wednesday morning: teaching all morning and 2 afternoon's a month, Thursday morning: Zane day (no school), Friday morning: mine.

I'm nervous. Zane is at the point of beginning to fight and drop the afternoon nap. And although I insist that he stay in his bed for at least an hour and a half, even if he doesn't sleep, the distraction of him calling me over and over is not conducive for work. I need open mornings.

I don't have open mornings.

Correction. I have one open morning.

I'm struggling for the ideal work environment. The environment which marries the writing and Mary Kay. God knows I wrote enough about that dream over the last few months. I won't even link you to those posts. If you've been reading, you know what I'm talking about.

So, I pray. I pray for God's leading.

His ideal.

Unblocked

It's July 16th.

On July 1, I lost it and banned the kids from television.

On July 2, I was worried that I'd completely lost my mind. I knew I had made the right call, but I was plenty nervous about holding my ground. I called my parents to tell them of the ban, as they were on their way here for 5 days. They were completely supportive. We were so busy during their visit that we didn't need the television.

It's now July 16th and I couldn't be more pleased with the decision.

It took two weeks of reprogramming, but Harper and Zane are now hitting their chores without complaining. Sure, there is a bit of a whine, but it hardly resembles the former tantrums that erupted when Harper, specifically, was asked to straighten her room. In fact, yesterday, when I asked her to clean her room, she disappeared. Upon checking up on her, I found hanging in her clean bedroom.

"Um, Harper, don't you think you are forgetting something", I teased.

"Mom. I put my clothes in the hamper and straightened my books and bed."

"Yes, but your forgot to complain about it."

She cracked a giggle, but I think she was secretly irritated with my humor.

Oh, and did I mentioned that Zane hasn't asked for television even once? Not once.

Harper is a different story, but we've made an agreement that she can earn television for special movie nights or 30 minutes of Hannah Montana or That's So Raven, (which, I, um, love), here and there.

So, proudly, I announce, that since July 1, Harper and Zane have only watched one episode of Hannah, one of Raven, and earned "The Wizard of Oz". And this was a sacrifice on Harper's part as she wanted to watch "Jump In", (she's in a boxing phase), but chose to go with Zane's choice since I had a client upstairs and he was so very loudly expressing his disappointment over the possibility of watching Corbin Bleu again. (Let's just mention right here, that the kids may get the opportunity to meet him next week when Justin opens for him in concert!) Compare this to the 1.5 hrs they used to watch daily, and we're all celebrating this accomplishment and are definitely reaping the benefits.

For example, Zane built the most awesome structures tonight with his blocks while Harper read us a chapter of a Magic Treehouse book. In the middle of the chapter she stopped and screamed, "Oh! This is just so exciting!" Zane, listened as he built robots and, get this, the Stone Table from The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, which he then cleverly "split" when "As-a-lan" (as he pronounces the lion) rose from the dead.

All of this came after a visit to the pool, which we were able to take in before the thunderstorm hit. Harper met up with Maya, Zane with Maya's brother Alex, me with their mom, who I really enjoy, and George with the kids. He's amazing. He deserves a post. Very soon.

We've been more active. The kids have taken to having more responsibility, even going above and beyond their lists at times, for which I reward with precious parking meter money. And most importantly, their responses to us have been so much more positive.

We'll keep it up. We'll save the television for family movie nights, or when Justin finally makes his debut on the Disney Channel. But until then, I'll continue my fascinating conversations with Zane about what gifts Father Christmas brought Peter, Susan, and Lucy and why Edmund didn't receive one, and will attempt to keep my little softball throwing, rugby playin', tennis ball hittin', gymnastic tumblin', swimmer, well fed through all her summer activities.

And sure, I'll also hop on the couch and laugh with her during That's So Raven. After all, if we just run this joint like Jamestown, "If you don't contribute, you don't get television", we should be solid.

Straw

I lost it tonight.

Big time.

You know, I'm not a perfect parent. Such a thing doesn't exist. And yet, I do have some brilliant parenting moments. A few. I'm doing all right. For the most part.

For the most part doesn't include tonight.

I am exhausted. Yeah, I know, all parents are, so stop my whining. I'm "on" with them all day, and by the evening, I really need for them to be obeying, complying, and, oh, I don't know, express a tad bit of thankfulness for what I've run around doing for them all day. Ugh, this is sounding so cliche.

And then there was tonight. "Mommy freaks out all over those precious heads of theirs" night. "Harper and Zane can't squeeze one ounce of obedience out of those precious heads of theirs" night. "The children cry those precious heads of theirs to sleep" night.

Oh, are you thinking, "My goodness, how cruel?"

Remove the log cabin from your eye my friend.

Tonight I took away the TV. Not for an hour. Not until chores are done. Not for a day. Or a week. Indefinitely. I have such a difficult time reigning the kids back in after zoning out in front of the tube, (it's so very sad that we still have a tube and not some fancy shmancy flat, high def, whatchamacallit) that I finally decided that enough was enough. The DVD's are packed up, the TV off limits to anyone in the house who is not contributing to household chores.

It's not as if I give my kids huge chores. Harper is to bring her dirty clothes to the hamper each day and straighten her room (not even her desk, mind you, which is a nightmare - that would be cruel). Zane is to pick up his toys, and bring his plate and cup to the sink after eating.

What type of response have I been receiving to these?

"No".

"I'm too tired."

"Not that pajama shirt!" (Yes, this fits, as part of the exhaustion of the evening was not having the preferred pair of pajama's available for Zane who is destined to become one of those old guys who walks around in lounge wear.)

"I can't do it!"

Well, you know what guys? I can't do it all either. My children are old enough to have responsibilities. Even Zane. While wearing pajama's.

So, after the screaming (me), the crying (them), the lecturing (me), the calling out for Daddy (them - although I also called George out of a meeting, as it was that bad), and the growling through clenched teeth (me), the children (them), God bless 'em, fell asleep, and when George got home we worked on revamping the chore charts.

We don't give allowance, by the way. Especially not for the chores that, frankly, should just be done during the day. Now, if Harper or Zane, would like to go the extra mile and fold all the laundry, replace light bulbs, and scrub the bathroom, then I think a little kick back is in order. However, we don't believe in giving allowance for "daily" chores.

I must say that yelling, "You are both driving me crazy!" through their closed bedroom doors, does seem to knock the energy right out of an insomniac. Zane and Harper were asleep within 15 minutes. Who needs lavender essential oil when you've got lungs that can shut your children up in a pinch.

I scared my kids to sleep.

Such a proud moment. Do they make ribbons for that?

Nudge, Nudge

How must I show responsibility in my family?
Does my lack of acting responsibly affect those in my family?
Does God call me to model responsibility?

My need to reflect upon this word and my relationship with responsibility is due, in part, to a situation that occured this morning when Zane woke up. Out of the crib he climbed and immediately turned and yelled in my face, "Mommy! Clean up my room!"

Um, I don't think so.

However, as much as I wanted to tell him to put a lid on it, I secretly wondered if I had somehow played a role in his behavior. After all, my room is a complete mess most of the time, and yet, I am always asking my children to clean up. And it's not as if I have assigned specific chores for Zane (other than helping to put the toys away downstairs), nor have I had the mental or physical fortitude to tackle the idea of family chores over the past few months. The mere thought of implementing a new "plan" or "routine" just fatigues me.

And yet, this does him no good. It does no good to say "Clean up!" when I'm not modeling the behavior myself, and it does no good to avoid putting some schedule in place to help facilitate a daily habit of responsibilities for all the members of this family.

Matthew 25:21 says
“The master was full of praise. ‘Well done, my good and faithful servant. You have been faithful in handling this small amount, so now I will give you many more responsibilities. Let’s celebrate together! (NLT)

While I've not worked all of this out in my head or heart yet, I do know that one of the ways I feel compelled to pray for my family is in the area of our faithfulness in handling "small amounts" (or "few things" in the NIV, NAS). God has given us so many wonderful "small amounts" and He's given us the tools to use them wisely. Have we?

I've come to the conclusion that perhaps we can not get out of this overwhelming pit where we are constantly trying to play catch up in our home because we are indeed NOT being faithful in the small amounts that God asks us to tend to every day. This doesn't mean that I am leaning towards a legalistic or rigid plan of attack. I am leaning towards finding the CELEBRATION that God speak of in this verse. Where's the party????? How do we develop a spirit of sanctuary and celebration in our home?

I believe, that until we dig out (as right now the small amounts are in piles all over the place) and actually handle and take responsibility for the small daily things, we will not experience a CELEBRATION. And for sure, we won't be given any larger responsibilities that could benefit our family.

This is just the beginning of a prayerful thought process based upon some nudgings I've been getting from the Lord.

Ah, I love a good nudge. Don't you?