Immanuel. Gloria.

Earlier today, I had been sitting next to our twinkling Christmas tree and listening to the happy sounds of play drifting down the stairs where my sweet and beautiful children were enjoying their winter break with immense satisfaction. I was overwhelmed with the feeling of gratitude and joy for being the recipient of the undeserved gifts of a warm and happy home.

While I was having these happy thoughts, I was simultaneously listening to a loved one on the phone who was talking/ranting/yelling at me about various things that people had done to upset her, myself included. The thoughts came quick, mumbled, and more than half completely not based in reality. Confronting the delusions would result in greater agitation, and yet one doesn't want to give the illusion of silent agreement which can be interpreted as verification of this false reality.

I wrote this a few moments later in a moment of weakness and hope.


Posted on Facebook 12/21/17:

I'm so thankful for the Christmas season and the joy, awe, and celebration of community, generosity, and the immeasurable gift of God in flesh coming to live and walk among us.

I also ache for those missing loved ones who aren't here to celebrate with them. I hurt for those who are personally battling or have loved ones battling mental illness, chronic pain/sickness, terminal illness, trauma, or many other unspoken burdens. For these reasons, this time of year can be incredibly beautiful and acutely painful... sometimes within the very same moment.

I am praying for those loved ones to experience an extra measure of grace, peace, and hope - the kind that can only be found in a loving God who entered into our wonderful yet broken world to rescue us from an eternity of sorrow, pain, and despair.

And I pray for clarity of sight to see and to remember this beautiful Truth, even in the midst of overwhelming joy and crushing sorrow: Immanuel. God with us. Gloria.

Good Things Come in Small Packages

First Day of School! First Day of School!

Welcome back, visitors - you are just in time to join us in celebrating the launch of our 6th year of homeschooling! SIXTH. Is this really happening?

I almost can't believe that G-Bug is starting her last year of elementary school today - amazing! She has grown and changed so much in the last year, and is literally growing up before my very eyes (now that she can almost look directly into mine while standing face to face). 

Truth is excited to be a third grader this year - he is relishing the fact that he is entering the threshold of "upper elementary school" and now feels the need to correct anyone who refers to him as a "little kid." In his eyes, he is on the cusp of manhood. And I can't deny it.

In other news, life outside of school is chugging along - my health is still a continual roller coaster, though answers are now slowly coming and I'm optimistic about the next year (fingers crossed and insert pleas for prayer here). The not knowing has been discouraging and burdensome, living in ambiguity and grasping for solutions without knowing the root causes. But God has continued to give daily sufficient grace, even on days when I feel incredibly fragile and weak in body and spirit. 

One way that I've been coping with my health struggles and connecting with G-Bug has been crafting miniature foods, furniture, and other accessories for her American Girl (and other 18 inch sized) dolls. It began about two years ago when we built a French kitchen/bakery for her AG doll Grace Thomas (her character runs a French bakery with her grandparents). We challenged ourselves to come up with a homemade (and FAR less expensive) version of Grace's patisserie using cardboard, craft foam, clay, and paint. 

G-Bug and Grace love it!

I found the process of watching YouTube videos and shaping, cutting, and painting the pieces to be therapeudic and fun, and it allowed me to be creative without aggravating my health. Since then, every few months G-Bug and I have challenged ourselves by creating various pieces and rooms for her growing family of dolls. 

 School is in session

Even her brother Truth regularly joins in, grabbing his stuffies and trying out the sets for himself.

Lynx in a bathtub = ridiculously cute

Now two years later, this little hobby of ours has become a small side business! In the last week, we have started making and selling little doll sets at a local artisan shop and on Etsy.  G-Bug, co-creator of MiniMaples, is channeling her entrepreneurial spirit into offering ideas for new doll sets and marketing strategies (and many of them are brilliant, I must admit).

We can't wait to get these miniature sets into the hands of children and adults to encourage bonding and creativity through imaginative play!

MiniMaples display at 

Treehouse Artisans and Merchants in Louisville, KY

I can't wait to see what the future holds as we begin this little adventure. 

Asking for Help

Three math problems. 90 minutes. Equals 30 minutes per problem.

Only four more to go.


A child wrapped in a preteen body, crumpled into a infant's pose. Whimpers. Silent tears dripping down blotchy cheeks.

Alone. Afraid. Angry. And still somehow absent.

Mother, dragging herself through a quagmire of pain, tiredness, and frustration. Reaching for patience and kindness but instead grasping the side of the couch in anger and despair.

Help.

Slowly, Mother lets go and reaches out to touch the shivering shoulder of the child next to her.

Like a spring, the tightly wound girl releases, turns and clings tightly to Mother. Tears fall on her shoulder.

Mother encircles the clinging child and utters words that bubble up from some unseen stream and flow out of her mouth to drip gently down, soaking the wounded and parched hearts below.

It's ok.

I'm proud of you.

You asked for help.

We all need help sometimes.

I am here for you.

I'll always be here for you.

I want to help you.

We can do this.

Let's do it together.


With each word, the trembling slows. Tears subside. The arms still tightly cling as if holding each word close to the chest, afraid to let go.

Ok.

Four math problems. Twenty minutes. Equals smiles and deep sighs of relief.

Thank you.