Saturday, May 12, 2007

A Mothers Day

My Daughter is eight now and my Son is six.

I have no empty arms. No lonely moments wishing the child could stay. My heart can feel them in another room. I hear their breathing. I await the smiles in the morning. Each embrace is a life time in the making.

I have toys strewn across a play room, dirty laundry sometimes on the bathroom floor. Dishes fill the sink. We saw a movie today and played basketball. Echos of children's voices overrode my nap. It was our time our life to share.

Bananas with cheerios and his favorite eggs with tofu cream cheese in the morning. It will be Mothers Day. The dogs will need to be fed. Coffee for my husband and green tea for me. Mothers day with my own children.
by Donetta

My Daughter is nine now and time will never wait, my son is six the hours fly away. Days become weeks, months, years; life- times pass swiftly today. Our lives to embrace. To look into each face for joy is this..."mine", Mothers day.

A privalidge has been given to me. A sacred trust to care for these lives that belong to Him. How frail I am and often am tempted to be. How loving His trust He has placed in me. With err and accuracy I hold thier lives. This is mine the solem charge. Mothers Day.

Friday, May 11, 2007

Adoption Trip to Russia 1998 for Little Dove



Hanging there in traction the phone at Physical Therapy rang: a moment in time that etched eternal upon my soul. "You told us!" Three voices chimed as the conference call began. You told us that God said you should to be ready to travel in March. We really saw no way it was going to happen before June; you need to book your flight for March 1st. We got to get you back out of Russia before Women’s day. Can you be you ready?

As the front door opened into my serenity I stepped into the dining room. There before my eyes the suitcases fully packed with warm clothing and even the K- rations in case of emergency. Looking into the three boxes I wept to see all the formula and mittens that filled them. It was only in December when the new clothing washer came. That was the day the hand truck struck me in the groin and had fractured my pelvis. Only able to lie down or walk; so many hours spent walking collecting all the mittens from every desert clearance rack. The boxes packed full of vitamins and cold medicines, lice treatments and film for the orphanage.

At the bank the kindness of the merchant teller who so painfully had search out the $20,000 worth of perfect twenty, fifty and one hundred dollar bills. Going into that small chamber with her my heart pumped hard at the efforts at hand. Then that moment of courage when with all that cash stashed on my person through the parking lot into car a drive home to remember.

We prepared our Visa and Pass ports, air line tickets, contacts and rehearsed the events to unfold. The first leg of the flight would take 18 hours. Sitting was out of the question for any length of time. Standing in the back of a jet liner offers a wonder of exchange. There a young man spent hours heard lick no one had ever listened to him before. The stewards so warm with great kindness gave us a bottle of champagne to celebrate our new child. During the late hours the rows in back of the plane could be used to lay me down some. Three seats across oh the relief that offered.

We landed in Sweden and the adventure became rich. De- boarding on a tarmac was a new experience. We boarded a buss and traveled to the other terminal where we then re- boarded onto a smaller craft. Carts of duty free trinkets displaying goods rolled up and down the isles. The chocolates looked to be a treat. We sat beside each other in this crowded plane and the flight was painful. My labor pains had begun like waters broke. The long flight arrived into another world. We had stepped back into time into St. Petersburg in the former Soviet Union.

When the flight doors opened my breadth was stifled by the intense cigarette smoke. I gasped and held my sleeve to my face. Hard work was an understated fact. This father to be had two giant cases on wheels with two carry on attached atop to them to pull. Guarding his “Mother to be” who was in the labor of a broken pelvis. Then the boxes three, with 75lbs each filled with the gold of children in desperate need , kicked and pushed with our feet though the customs gate. Machine guns, Russian word not known to us using sign language the gap was broken and the guards understood and were gracious to me. I was humbled even now to tear. When once they knew who we were and what we were there for they bowed head to us in honor.

Looking up, our contact Igor had sign in hand; his face shone like and angel to me worn with a life of hardship, his eyes smiled. As soon as we cleared the port he and his driver came to us delivering us our burdens. As the outer doors opened a sting of 18 below hit us crisp and clear. Coughing our lungs soon adapted, winter in Russia. The men loaded up the van; the driver had kept the engine warm for us, the exhaust was stifling. My husband was now teamed with other men and was able to finally rest. I could not breathe the smells of Russia, tears welled.

A step back into 1945, roadways deeply pot holed and a type of madness wheeled about as pedestrians mingled with autos strange and unknown to us, but we, we rode in a VW van and we found a lot of humor in it. Our driver played American rock and roll on a cassette tape well worn with years of use. Our eyes blinked full of the sights of this ancient land. Buildings older than anything we had ever witnessed. They took us to a large court yard that was stepped back into the days of walled cities. Keep voices low came a stern warning, it will cause danger for us if the neighbors hear you. Up many steps to an apartment that was bared with a great outer door then after the locks turned we saw the inner door much like an American home; opened to a lovely woman. Lucy was petite and fresh. It seamed we had become royalty. With great humility, welcomed and given the master (the only) bedroom while our hosts would sleep in the kitchen and in the small office Igor used to translate our documents. We left after the home received the boxes and cases. Lucy, Igor, the driver and the parents to be now driven off to deliver this long awaited life.

The air was icy and the van warmed with the exhaust of the engine it must stay thawed for if it froze we could be in danger. We then rounded a corner; Igor told us of the University, within this complex “the orphanage”… where birth would soon take place. Crowds of students surrounded the van as it threaded its way into a small alcove. We had arrived!

The steps of the orphanage looked like an ancient trail grooved with time. Ushered up to a room there within moments our new child would arrive. We removed our outer garments. Told not to let sweat accumulate on us for it would freeze on us when we left the building. The woman in the photo came through the door Russian words exchanged with Lucy she translated to tell us the child had just woke up. What a BEAUTIFUL girl! We held her and her little body fevered with an upper respiratory infection. Her face stressed, her breathing strained. I placed her on my lap face down and gently pounded on her back she coughed up mucus and smiled at the relief.

Moments later the woman returned she spoke Russian and Lucy told us the child must eat now we can come back tomorrow. Handing her back to the woman tore out my heart. The single most difficult thing a new mother could ever experience. They took her away. Broken gasps, then Russian “what’s the Matter with her”? ….. It pains her to hand the baby back said Igor. Lucy smiled we have much work to do. This has just begun.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

8 things on a lighter note

1. I love the warmth of the sun when I lay on my hammock.

2. The first thing I usually hear in the morning is my dog (Willy Wonka bar ) the Chocolate lab saying "hello" to me. Its the only time he speaks all day.

3. I'm growing my nails. I'm a nail biter that STOPED!

4. I love to use sign language more that the spoken word. It is not as hard to spell :) its also easier for me to hear.

5. I love my slenderizing jeans!

6. Being heavy has given me a great chest :) "focus on the positive."

7. I love to use chunky sea salt when I cook.

8. I am growing a sunflower house for my kids (really it is for me) to play in this summer. I cant wait to watch them play in it and pick the cucumbers and corn.

Tag your it!

Now that I've posted this, I'm supposed to tag 8 bloggers
Jaye
Christine
twins plus one
Mark

Tagged! 8 things about me?

!. I live with a mind for the introspective. This is a gift that has been both a real equalizer and dividing force. I tend to see into the heart of a matter. So I am often too dismissive of masks. Its like I just sorta brush them aside if I'm not thoughtful. I'm learning more wisdom about seeing softly. I love writing, because of this introspection I can pour out of me with un-abandon because nothing is masked unless I chose it to be.

2. My heart is all about a verse about how God looks to and fro searching for someone to stand in the gap. When I am brave I have said to Him " here I am" .......The wonders I have witnessed. Those wonders have confounded those around me for that obedience has a price. It has left me very lonely and suffering in this flesh and I have watched those sufferings I have known used to witness to the medical profession. With much glory to God. I miss the wonders but also know that he still sees me here wishing I could just always be so brave. My husband loves that brave so but is threatened by the possible costs sometimes. So I sometimes differ to kindness toward his account yet I do prefer the wonders of a life uncommon. I love seeing His LOVE get through the wounds of the hearts of all those He longs for .

3. I am a see-er, This can have more loneliness (from People, but not from God) at times due to what I see. I am here interceding for that is why He shows me what He dose. I don't always know if what I am seeing is so, yet often there is absolutely no question and I jump when He speaks so sweetly and softly to do so. I have experienced enough to test it and to pray and discern the difference.

4. I love everything creative. I see wonder in it and it thrills me. Utilitarian creative arts like sewing , cooking, Beading/jewelry making, clay,painting any and all things that surround me with beauty. I love to set my hand to it.

5. I love the living. People, plants, animals(human and creature:)) even this breathing planet. I have a great and profound respect for life. Loving my husband and raising my children are a joy to me as well as feeding the birds, gardening, my pets, and nature. I love the Morning Doves song when I awake.

6. I love so strong that it pulls on every fiber of who I am. Every life that touches mine I long for good for them. I want so badly for it to go well for everyone. I choose not to hate and have learned to forgive even the most vile human beings on this planet. For I know who THE TRUE ENEMY IS! People make choices and those choices are often based from the enemy's wounds and trickery. I grieve that Satan fell.

7. I waited 16 years for my first child (my daughter) and twenty years for my Son. I saw them when I was very young and although I never birthed a child I did not pursue infertility treatment. I knew they were there, I saw it. I faught hard for that vision and watched so many miricles because of that courage.

8. I have known unconditional love. In my experience it is a very difficult thing to accept. When I was I child I knew what it was to not be loved. I have known what it is to love.
I have set my love upon God and so I live by psalm 91. When I set my love upon Him my life began (on this realm, Mankind and the earth external): only then to be surrounded in His love yet in the inner realm I have always been surrounded by his love, it kept me while "Evil ruled the ruest" and others had domain over me.

Wednesday, May 9, 2007

Schools Out

Early release burned into my mind I never want them to get to that curb again and wait for me with a hearts sunk. Curbside ten minutes ahead with doors in my sights I watch with girlish excitement. Little bodies fly through those doors of release. There are ball bouncing,voices calling.

Then he shows. Sweatshirt on a sunny day skinny man Dan racing like a lightening bolt and I the ground, a flash as joy and my afternoon alights. HI! MOM! flies open the door and as a boomerang tossed the backpack lands hard beside me on the passengers seat.

Girls have a slower cadence they wank subdued. Smiles shy and awkwardly and a school mate joins our entourage. lead me in wisdom another child in need. My daughter concerned about this extra life I had in tow, for this child is troubled and broken in soul.

Hi Mom. With wisdom she looks to my eye, missing the attention she has chosen to share. This child chose kindness to rule her heart today. Acing her poetry recital now a finalist in the poetry fair. My sweet little daughter with her Russian golden hair.

Ive snaked them and rested and they have had their TVs fair share so its on now to homework.
This now my time ends. It takes a lot more to be a mother than just being a friend. Step into my honor and live out this high role as the example lives is the best gift I can give.

Tuesday, May 8, 2007

Evening hour

The evening winds down like the springs of an old lithographed tin toy. The image is so fresh in my eyes only too soon to fade in my mind. A child now out of the tub as the other begs for another moment of play. "Not yet Wait Mom Hold on Not yet." She pleads for every moment to linger.

Their Father at play or work it may be as he types out the joy of his mind. He readies the "meds." instructs the boy with a gentle kind lesson on perma markers. "Yes Sir" the childreplys to a fathers pride and this mother humility

I the mother with iron beeping please press with me before i expire. Fabric on board cut and and readied for assembly. Finding myself so full of prose thouth my migrained head to rest a moment more, while strong medication eases the cranial storm.

My son with his Lego built ship admires his heroes those boys who inspired him to be and create. the joy of those feet as they fly like the wind giving sail to the ships of war. " What is the name of your shp I asked"? for its bad luck for it not to have one" With wise little eyes I am looked down to see my face and them He declare WE DONT BELIEVE IN LUCK! What are you chinese!

Little girl sweet is tubed and sweetly chimes in for her call and query all that is outside from the walls that surround her. Songs of juvenile chorus and voices that chatter as if their be a circle of friends bathing with her. She guards her treasures and choses what is right. Tomarrow she rectes her poem. The piece of sky with flow so well as her dress is half way sewn.

Golden and Chocolate close as in a pack they must be grooming a foot and still thier repose no voice not a bark it is the quiet of the day. Boardom of family meal finished not scoring a morsil resigned into another nights calm. Till "blue bone" comes into play, now life gits richer and tug-o-war insues.

Gold fish passed away today while children wept I torn asunder being pulled yet refused of any offer to comfort. Goldie was old and that is the truth of it sad. I see the tank that longed for amore attention and guilt pricks at my soul.

Its never enough being a Mother. We ware so many hats our hair gets mussed and yet we need the shade of every brim we are given. Will my mind grow dime and fad the lithagrahed spring that I hold so dear this moment ? Well if it does than just perhaps this moment was spent best recording the living.

A morning muse.

Sky dress is pinned and the skirt awaiting the attachment of its bodest. A girl of nine slept. I eagerly awaiting the smile from her shining face was all a jitter. So many years I spent awaiting this moment. It was sixteen years that my arms held an invisible child. Now she is nine! With children now in school, another tending to their vocational needs, I have for the first time the energy and the time to fill up the dreams of sewing for my own children. I have watched a generation pass and helped all those mothers and fathers. It is my turn to thrill in the joy of a little princess aglow with the frills of tole and rick-rack stitched from my loving hands. Designing this garment awoke the artist in me and the fun of using materials that were out of the box gave this little dress a one of a kind value that glow!
My son is in the cue awaiting pants that have flames and shorts with astronauts and rockets. This is so fun!
I am making a costume for Becca for her play in a couple of weeks. She shall be Woody Paper. The play is about recycling. I use cardboard and duct tape so far for the foundation and I padded the shoulder straps and sewed felt onto them. I plan to do a decoupage or such to apply the newspaper. This will give the school a costume that will last a few years.
Play dates are coming into fruition and the children are thriving. I am thriving too.

The monthly Arizona Sewing Guild Meeting was fun. We had a Fashion designer come to our meeting. She got me thinking outside the box. My art is coming alive!

I have a lot of boxes still to unpack from the new flooring and the dismantling of the school room. The studio (my studio!!!!!!!!!!) is fabulous! I have a lot of work to do yet on it. Many items still in boxes. I hope to do some art shows this fall and gain a little (or a lot ) of mad money that I can save and maybe take a trip or vacation for the family.

Monday, May 7, 2007

Im exploding with lots of good news.
1.The family of my girls friend is opening up and I will be able to offer them some support. I will help the chil with transportation and attention untill someone is abble to be at her house. I told the mother I wound not drop the child off at home unless someone was there. "thats just my way, I told her that I would not be willing have that on my hands. She ashured me that the 8 yr old stayed home by herself all the time for a half hour alone would be no big deal. So I guess that this summer I will often have three in the afeternoon. Both girls are in a summer reading program. Different teacher however. So at least this child will not have the long walk to a possible emty house every day.

2. Im 46. My birthday was a hard ye challenging day. My husband and I had a few hours togeather we went out to breakfast and went home and watched a movie. The kids went to a morning birthday party/ play date. We all came home and rested in a quiet house and then made an early evening of it. We have a cold in the house so Steve and I are a little under it.

QUESTION:
What would you do if your child told you that they were concerned about thier friend having a bad home life?
Would you concider offering some practical help to a family in crisis? Shy or shy not?

Older women likewise teach the younger women...

• how to love their husbands
• how to love their children
• how to be self-controlled
• how to be pure
• how to be keepers at home
• how to be kind and submissive (not subservient) to their own husbands. (See Titus 2:3-5)

Blog Archive

By Maya Angelou

'A woman's heart should be so hidden in Christ
That a man should have to seek Him first to find her.'

When I say... 'I am a Christian' I'm not shouting 'I'm clean living,'
I'm whispering 'I was lost, Now I'm found and forgiven.'

When I say... 'I am a Christian' I don't speak of this with pride.
I'm confessing that I stumble and need Christ to be my guide.

When I say... 'I am a Christian' I'm not trying to be strong.
I'm professing that I'm weak and need His strength to carry on.

When I say.. 'I am a Christian' I'm not bragging of success.
I'm admitting I have failed and need God to clean my mess.

When I say... 'I am a Christian' I'm not claiming to be perfect,
My flaws are far too visible, but God believes I am worth it.

When I say... 'I am a Christian' I still feel the sting of pain...
I have my share of heartaches, so I call upon His name.

When I say... 'I am a Christian' I'm not holier than thou,
I'm just a simple sinner Who received God's good grace, somehow!

Words have power. Here are a few of my favorite sayings.

  • A warm cup of tea is like a cuddle with a friend.
  • The North American Indians have a more eloquent word for ‘friend’ than we do in English. In their language, the word for friend literally means, “the one who carries my sorrows on his back.”
  • Return with Honor
  • The sage anticipates things that are difficult while they are easy, and does things that would become great while they are small. All difficult things in the world are sure to arise from a previous state in which they were easy, and all great things from one in which they were small. Therefore the sage, while he never does what is great, is able on that account to accomplish the greatest things."
  • "HOME IS WHERE YOUR STORY BEGINS"
  • “Live so that when your children hear these words they think of you… Fairness Caring Integrity Honesty Love Trust.”
  • "O Lord help my words to be gracious and tender today, for tomarrow I may have to eat them."
  • "No man has ever been shot while doing the dishes"

Click here for all crafts

e patterns My sister told me of this site

Please pray for her parents and family

Please pray for her parents and family
Amy has clicked her heals and flown to her real home. There is no place like home.

This was given to me for the third time in just a few weeks.

Zephaniah 3:17 NLT
"For the LORD your God has arrived to live among you. He is a mighty savior. He will rejoice over you with great gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will exult over you by singing a happy song."

Thank You Ross

Getting to know Me

What warm hearts you all offer

Thank you all for the kindness you have shown me with every Award. I am embraced. You Are a blessing.

Thank you Michelle

Thank you Michelle

Thank you Annette they are beautiful
Thank You Annette
Autism Awareness