Resources for Christian Women, Encouragement for Families


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Home Grown Comedy

As a young mom back in the day when I had the first four of my children, I joined a Toastmasters Club in the metro area. This group met once a month so it was an opportunity to get out and learn a little more about public speaking.

One of the first tasks in the group was to learn how to tell a joke in public. I got up to the podium and said, “My husband told me not to say this but…” The group burst out laughing. I had not even finished my intro let alone my joke! (I should have sat down right then!) “…but I have never told a joke in public!” They roared with laughter again. That definitely was my cue to sit, but I dug my heels in and told the joke which totally flopped! lol!

Over 30 years later (maybe 40) I continue to collect real life stories and such for my someday comedy routine.

When the grandkids come to visit I am always up for helping out with any certain training going on in their little lives. Recently, a few weeks ago,  little T came to visit, age 3 and a few months, and in the ending stages of potty training. His number 1’s were going fine. Not the # 2’s. So, during his 3 day stay, he burst out, “I have to go poop, Oma!” So we ran to the nearest bathroom and I closed the door so he could have his pwivacy, as he called it. I told him I would sit outside the bathroom on the chair near the laundry room. He told me when he was done  that there was a snake in the toilet! I thought, that sounds ok. Then, I did the poo poo dance: I yanked off a 2-3′ piece of t.p. and danced around waving it while celebrating T’s victory! “Great job, T! I’m so proud of you!”

Just a few days ago, T came to visit with his family. “I have to go poop, Mom! But I want Oma to help me!” I ran into the house with him and he asked for his pwivacy again. There wasn’t exactly a snake this time but he went. I’ll spare the details. As he finished flushing and such, he said, “Oma, do that poop dance!” So I tore off the 2-3′ long piece of t.p. and did my thing!

Reflections on Being a Parent

Being a parent is really a full time role.  You have a child and along with the gift comes a lifetime of responsibility.  It may not end at a clear cut time when you think or expect. But with God’s help, you persevere.

Sometimes when you think your responsibility may lessen, it does not. So, again, you move forward.  God can and will equip you as you persevere and put one wobbly step in front of the other.  You realize, too, you can accomplish feats and tasks you never expected to face.

This is all part of what I call The Journey, the span of time from cradle to grave as you make your mark on life — or maybe just meander through at times.

Rest assured, as a believer in Jesus Christ, I know He is with me and will never leave me nor forsake me. If I were to explain my daily life, some days would not make sense to anyone else.  I think that’s somewhat true for most folks, though.

I truly thank God for this journey and seek His guidance, blessing and strength.  When I’m older and grayer, I may be able to make sense of what I’m going through, but then again — maybe not.  But I can assuredly say, “He is God.  He is good.  He really does know what He’s doing.”


It’s January 6 and some of the grandkids are still here.
Things so forgotten from when mine were tykes come to the forefront.
The little tuft of hair as I rock the tired babe who woke up due to wetness.
Last night, I chose the privilege of changing the diaper and the soggy double layers of pajamas – in the wee hours of the morning.
How did those times so quickly pass and bring me to this stage with hoary head?
I recall the exhaustion of my time as a young mom, feeling so blessed to do this task now.
Whimpers in the night echo, beckoning me to put the blanket back on or pacifier back in mouth.
Morning comes.  Soft whimpers change to exuberant cries for refreshment.
Breakfast – what will it be?
The shiny green watermelon that caught my eye at the store disappoints with its soggy texture and dull taste.
Oatmeal, steamy warm, yogurt; cheerios dance to the floor awaiting the broom or perhaps the tot, later, looking for a quick snack.
Later, the multicolored letter  blocks appear.
The mama of the tots reminisces of times past when she so gleefully stacked them.
Yet it seems like yesterday we brought the blocks home.
Now, Oma me watches the newest blockbuilder, stacking, pushing, crying out with glee.
DeJaVu? Am I thinking I’ve done this all before?  How? When? It clicks, poignantly and plain.  But how could this be? I feel as though I just completed high school.
Mind races…There I am a toddler, crawling upstairs with my bottle, made of glass.
Over 5 decades have passed.  On the ceramic honeycomb floor, the bottle breaks.  Papa comes.  My finger’s bleeding.  And it hits me, hourglass of time has sifted, decades have passed.

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