Tag: control

Dating Decisions – Part 2

Learning the focus is on me: Dating Decisions Part 2

September 18, 2020

Dating Decisions – Part 2

My first realization when I started thinking logically about dating came from a series of Christian youth books by Robin Jones Gunn – even “Christian” dating was messy!

I don’t like messy anything. I like clean houses. I like clean living. I like open honest relationships. I hated how, even with people the protagonist wanted to have life-long relationships with, she lied! Or at the least bent the truth! In the books, she always ended up trying to correct those lies and asking for forgiveness, etc. because it was a Christian book trying to teach about doing life as a Christian in our carnal world (and Robin did a great job). I discovered that my idea of “date” was totally 1950s (or maybe even 1800s) and not relevant to the world I really lived in. I found Christian youth of my time (late 1990s) were trying to reinvent what they called “dating” by calling it “courtship.”

I wanted to be best friends. I wanted to get married to a man who was happy doing Pooh Bear’s “nothing” with me and enjoying it. I wanted someone who I was comfortable with. When I looked up the word “intimate” in my ancient dictionary, it said “to know and understand the deepest parts of the soul.” I wanted someone with whom I could be intimate.

The second big decision I made came about at a Christian summer camp where I was a junior counselor. First, a little backstory:

I started seriously working on myself as a preteen. I wanted to be a better sister. The song, “I Want to be Just Like You” by Philips, Craig, & Dean, was my inspiration. I cried so much when I first heard it because I realized my baby sisters and brothers looked up to me. I was actually walking my sleepy 1-year-old sister to get her to bed one night with WKCL on the radio. My mind twisted the lyrics so the he and him was they and them. “I want to be a holy example for their innocent eyes to see…” etc. I cried because I was not a “living Bible” in any sense and I wanted to be that positive role model. When baby Mary was born, I was years into the process of allowing God to change me into a better sister (which later helped me be a better mom).

I am a people watcher.

I am an analyst (like my Daddy).

I would get frustrated almost every time we moved with the hypocrisy and boys I met in youth groups who actively talked about things that shouldn’t be. I got more sexual garbage tossed my way from them than from male coworkers, my Daddy’s younger business associates who thought I was older, and the general guys I met in the feed store! I would approach the various youth leaders (we moved very often and I was always the new kid until I moved a few months later) to address the situation because I did not feel comfortable smacking truth at the various boys. When I started getting mostly, “they are just boys” reactions or laughter or “that’s actually a compliment” (he had tried to touch inappropriately and I moved away and instead he made comments I had to look up the meanings of later), I got seriously frustrated. I would throw my hands up mentally to God and say, “are there seriously any boys actually chasing after You in my generation?” Looking back, I think God just smiled, shook His head at my silly teenage prayers, and would allow me to read an awesome story or see or hear some young man acting out God’s love. It was usually right as we moved away, but always this little drop of encouragement that made me feel like I was not alone in my trying to be a Jesus-following-teenager.

*Side Note* (My girls are showing up to be way bolder than I was – Thank you, Jesus! – and they actually drop truth bombs when someone is doing or saying something inappropriate. That I think is awesome because it is a far better testimony than just stepping away and handing it off to an uncaring third party.)

BUT: my focus regarding dating was still carnal. I was looking at them. I was trying to find “the perfect guy” rather than focus on myself. Sure, I was working on being a better me with regard to siblings, parents, and general truth and study, but I had yet to apply it to all areas of my life. In our culture, we are constantly hit with “finding our soulmate” or “finding the one.” We are focusing on us finding a match. If we are leaving eternal salvation up to God, why not leave matchmaking up to God?

Fast forward to summer camp and I’m 16. Part of being a junior counselor was the requirement to attend 5am to 7am workshops (aka sermons/lectures/Bible studies). I’m listening to one of the camp counselors talk about how he and his wife didn’t start out God’s way and it was messy. His entire program was on not dating someone who wasn’t on equal spiritual footing (aka, DO NOT be unequally yoked to a nonbeliever). Of course, he and his wife ended their story as Christians working to rebuild and repair their marriage and family – but his eyes when he spoke of the wasted years fighting and trying to control each other and using their kids as weapons against each other and divorce and coming back together… those eyes solidified what became my second solid dating decision. I had already written it years before in a community youth group workshop to “list qualities you want in your future spouse,” but now it was not just a “what I want” it was a deal-maker or deal-breaker:

My husband will be a godly man who loves Jesus with all his heart.

And my third decision came at the same time:

I will present myself honestly in all my relationships and make sure any potential date knows I love Jesus and serve Him with my whole heart.

…more on the third decision next time!

~Nancy Tart

Dating Decisions (Part 1)

Part 1 of Dating Decisions – dissecting real life and true love

September 16, 2020

Dating Decisions (Part 1)

WHOA! What is meant by this title?

Nothing. It’s a history story. Ancient history if you ask my children. I am a writer of stories; why would it surprise you that I would pull stories from my teenage decisions? No crazy thoughts. Take a deep breath, empty your presuppositions, and read: you may learn a little about the psychology behind decision making.

Once upon a time, (No, this is not a fairy tale… it is my truth tale.), I was just understanding love. Real love. I was curious about my parents and other couples around me and in my church. My mom and dad had at this point been married for 13 years. I was 11. I considered them ancient. Now I am older than my mother then and close to my dad’s age at the time – wow, I’ve reached the 11-year-old’s idea of ancient! One of my daddy’s mentors had been married to his wife for over thirty years. My daddy’s parents had been married for over 40 years when my grandmother died and granddaddy didn’t remarry. My mother’s parents had been divorced before my mom met my daddy and two of her siblings had been married and divorced. I had been sitting at a concert at a church with mostly teenagers where the girl asked, “raise your hand if your parents have been divorced.” Everyone in my row raised their hands. Most of the auditorium raised their hands. I had watched “The Parent Trap” from the sixties, but in that movie the parents got back together and all was well. I started to understand that divorce was the norm for most of the children I met. My family, with their short 13 years together, was already 7 years beyond the “normal” for divorce; according to research in the “Focus on the Family” newsletter my daddy received. I began to understand that most of the problems facing my peers were related to their broken families. I realized that my mother broke the chain and her baby sister was breaking the chain. I wanted to be like the couple in one of my churches who stood up on the day they honored families and claimed 73 years of marriage.

Research started.

I read marriage and family books (my daddy had two bookshelves full of them in his office to start my journey). I analyzed relationships in movies, in books, and in history and began to learn how to predict problems based on family stability. Stories of great hardships with intact, supportive families morphed into strong, successful, loving children. What was the binding tie?

In every personal interview I did over the next six years (and beyond, but I’m telling the story of teenage me) the common thread for successful marriage was that both loved Jesus, both were willing to love the other without expecting anything in return, and both went into their relationship committed to making it last. Repair it rather than throw it away. I already had a waste-not-want-not mentality. This matched.

Along came 12. The first boy asked me out. I thought he was sweet. He liked to carry my books from Sunday School for me. He was nice to his baby sister. I found myself already studying potential mates. I was scared of that. I told him I couldn’t date until I was 16. That became my pre-programmed response to all of the offers in the next 4 years.

I was already journaling. I told God I was going to be 18 before I dated. I told Him I wanted Him to be in control. I told Him I wanted to focus on being the best big sister and daughter I could. So began my journey of discovering and morphing myself into what I thought God wanted.

At 16, my Daddy started getting worried. My 14-year-old sister was already dating and my 12-year-old brother liked to whistle at girls. I was deep into studying. I took time to develop relationships with all of my siblings as they allowed. It wasn’t that I wasn’t “interested” in boys. I plain and simple told my daddy once, “I’m not old enough to do anything about it, so why would I play with someone’s heart?” (As a teen, I thought he was shocked with my logic, but now as an adult I wonder if he was also scared of what I meant by that.)

And that was the first dating decision I realized I had made.

…continued next time!

~Nancy Tart

What is Praiseworthy?

April 26, 2020

What is Praiseworthy?

I heard a bit from a youtube radio (do you call them radio guys if they have a channel?) that matched quite nicely with the Bible reading I had today and the actual radio show I listened to on the way to work this morning.

He was discussing how a woman, identified as “Brooke,” a “mother of four,” put a beautiful online post on social media about how she loves her family and puts them first and serves them sacrificially (she said she makes sure lunches and packed, home is clean, and gets up to make her husband breakfast and sometimes goes to bed at 9 and sometimes goes to bed at midnight). I was smiling as I listened. I love my family that way.

But he went on about how some tv show (I don’t watch tv) mocked her post and belittled her husband as a lazy bum without even knowing either of them! They attacked her for being a slave. They said she was betraying all those who had fought for equality…

That made me sad.

Then that made me mad.

You see, I love my family. I serve them sacrificially. Yes, I know I have to take care of my health and body so I can serve them. In this phase our family is in, I happen to be working outside of the home. I serve them because I love them. I go to work because I want to help support them and I love them.

I want Louis to rest his back, let it fully heal so he doesn’t continue to live in constant pain. Since the guy rear-ended him, he’s been in constant pain, I can’t imagine that. He loves us and wants to serve us so he works at anything possible right now – he has always been the primary provider. This past year it was me; different seasons, one goal. One family.

When I do something out of love, I am doing it completely! I’m serving the best I can! Christina’s dish day but she’s busy with school? Yes, I’ll do “her day” so she can study or take her test – I love her and want the best for her. Becky feels lonely and frustrated and overwhelmed and doesn’t see any reason for keeping grades or college or a career? I suggest she go “hang out” with her special friend who will help encourage her and teach her about life and give excellent advice while playing some crazy video game. I love her. I want the best for her and sometimes advice has to come from someone other than Mom and Dad. Yes, I used to not go to bed until it was clean – now I’m up early, but some of my girls like to stay up late and Louis comes in very late sometimes, so the dynamic is the house is clean at 7 or 8 but they will reclean well afterward. We serve each other.

Louis wakes at 3:30am to make doughnuts for breakfast because I had to leave at 6:30 that day. When I come in and make lunch at 10am (2 hours 4 days a week + long Friday right now), I ask everyone else if they want some too and I’ll cook for more than just me. Christina, Becky, Kimberly, or Jaquline sometimes decide to make dinner or supper and they cook for everyone. We all serve with love.

Do all things as if you are serving Jesus. That motto I paraphrased from a Bible verse sometime in my preteen years and it has become something I remind myself of all the time. When there’s anything that needs to be cleaned or fixed or folded or washed I remind myself of that – I’m working to serve Jesus. I serve always out of love for those I serve. When I make food or visit a friend or help someone by cleaning or tutoring or fixing their fence, I’m serving you because I love you.

In today’s society, I guess I was “betraying females” when I would start second breakfast for Louis at almost lunch time, make sure his white uniform shirts were washed and spotless, starched and ironed, and waiting for him. On cold mornings (that house didn’t have heat) I’d time the drying of towels so he could have a warm one and I’d take it to him. I’d even make sure his shoes were polished. I served because I loved him.

I also understood that his working was his service to us. Our family serves each other because we love each other.

Tables shifted, turned, flipped, and rotated over the years, but we’re still serving each other and loving each other. We both take turns doing different things to serve the other. I don’t see anything wrong with that!

The youtube radio guy said he remembered his mother serving his sisters, his father, and him out of love. She was always doing special things, teaching them, and spending time with them. He said what could be better than having four adoring souls who return your love and esteem you as the best human on the planet? Does the hand that rocks the cradle rule the world? (I think he was trying to be funny) He said he praises this Brooke and is sure that her husband and children feel extremely blessed to be the objects of her service and affection. So do I!

Some people are like us. Some people love to serve. Some women are happiest being good wives and mothers. Some women could care less about a job as anything more than a vehicle to bring sustenance to their family; they don’t want to be the CEO or Mega Manager. They want to raise their children. They want to serve their family. They want to serve others around them.

Want to know a secret? These serving women are usually extremely loyal to a job they have because they see their work as a service to Jesus as well – they believe that they are serving their boss and coworkers through their job. Yes, corny, I know, but (also yes!) that is how I feel. I have to view my job as something I am doing for Jesus otherwise I would be super depressed about being away from my family.

Anyway… long long blog. If you got this far, cool!

Why does our commercially driven world think it’s okay to mock and bully a woman who chooses to serve others in lieu of climbing a corporate ladder striving for power and wealth? Fourth and fifth words. Commercially driven. Everything is about power and wealth. The world can’t control people who are driven by love and service. The world can’t understand the pure joy and fulfillment we get when we watch someone we love accomplish something. When the world is falling down around their shoulders and they open their brown lunch bag to find a little smiley note or that their sandwich is cut into triangles like they prefer it, they see love. They know someone loves them. The world doesn’t understand this because there is no price tag.

He ended by telling “Brooke” to keep it up! I say to all the Brookes out there, keep serving, keep loving. Don’t let the world’s judgement stop you from doing what you know you should be doing. If that’s running the 2nd largest corporation on the planet or packing your kids’ lunches, if you are serving a congregation of 500 or you are cleaning cherrios and duplos off the floor, if you are taxiing people around to make ends meet or you are the “soccer bus” mom stopping at four houses on your way to practice; whatever way you serve, keep honoring those you love.

My Bible reading was all about service with love rather than service as a duty. Don’t serve for others’ approval, that leads to disappointment. But serving out of love leads to fulfillment. This I know. God created us different, men are told to love their wives and women to serve their husbands – in reality, don’t two people who love each other serve each other all the time? God knows that men and women are wired differently hence the different words being used. He is warning men not to stop showing love to their wives and women not to stop serving their husbands. A woman who feels loved will be more willing to serve and a man being served is more willing to love. Like different love languages; you have to discover yours and that of those you love. Because we are different our style of service will be different, but we still hear the other saying “I love you” with their service to us.

In what way do you serve? Check your heart. Serve out of love without concern for any accolades. This will be our witness; our love!

Thanks for reading.

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

Beautiful Beach Day

March 31, 2020

Beautiful Beach Day

I know by the time this gets published, we aren’t going to be allowed on our beautiful beaches anymore due to what my teens tease the history books will call “the corona shutdown,” but don’t judge us.

Anyway, after making sure you understand that my one-month of disabled computer leading to very-very late posts is what causes this to be published way after it happened…

We LOVE our beach days (usually evenings, it is surface-of-the-sun Florida, even in February and March). This lovely day was a perfect, breezy, sunshine day. Our beach was “crowded” today (aka, more than just three groups as far as the eye could see). We actually happened to know both of our distant beach neighbors!

The girls took our boogie boards and caught the tiny waves. They grew to some nice ones and a few surfers started dotting the decent ones past the distant sandbar (if you see a dark dot in the distance, that is a surfer).

The teens buried each other together so that their legs were “eaten by the hungry hippo.”

Thea thought the water was too cold. After Mommy tried to get her wet a few times, she continually raced back up to Daddy, the shade tent, and Mommy’s chair.

In the background you see Kimberly in a deep hole, the other legs belong to part of the kid squad trying to fill that hole with water using sand buckets in a bucket line! We laughed so hard as they kept shrieking “the water’s going down!” after each bucketful of water got lost in the thirsty sands at the bottom.

There were some very funny teenager-talk jokes passing around during the sand sculpture time.

Besides enjoying hours with my family – my absolute favorite activity in the Earth, the beach allows me to breathe like I used to. I dunk my head in the salty water, rinse my sinuses and after a half-hour or so, I can breathe like before the mold allergy. I love the beach. This is why I live in Florida. I am a surfer in my soul. I managed one wave where Lucas baby-surfed on me (I bodysurfed and he was clinging on) but he has learned how to bodysurf on his own and Thea isn’t ready for that yet!

I pray to be able to continue to live near these amazing sandy tapestries of God’s wonderful design where I can feel refueled and whole. We packed up, watched the sunset, and trudged back to our van.

We left our sanctuary and returned to “real life.” I refused the radio and we listened and tried to sing-along to uplifting fun songs.

Are we in uncertain times? Yes, but nature always makes me remember that God is in control and my job is to do what I am able to and leave everything else that I can’t control in His hands.

Thank you for reading!

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

Songs and Movies… How can that make me cry?

Why does she cry? Even she doesn’t know, but the right song or movie certainly can start it.

February 6, 2019

Songs and Movies…

It has almost been two months since my Daddy passed.

I can’t find it to cry, normally.  If I think about crying, I remember how happy he is in heaven.  Then crying feels selfish – because I know he was in pain every day here.

But sometimes, I can’t explain it.  And it’s always a song or a movie.  And even that doesn’t always make sense.

I was coming home from work one early afternoon and on comes “Small Town Southern Man.”  No, that wasn’t my Daddy, but the core of the song “…He bowed his head to Jesus… always loved one woman, was proud of what he had… he said his greatest contribution was the ones he left behind…” Yes, that was my Daddy.

I was bawling when the next one happened to be “Love Without End, Amen” – which yes, didn’t need any alteration and went all the way to heaven.  I’m glad my car has cruise control and I’ve been driving 207 for over 20 years.

A song.  A movie. (okay, this one was crazy)   Never saw it with my Daddy, but he had given it to us.  Annapolis.  A story of a determined young person getting to his goal – my Daddy liked stories with real character.  At the end of the film, Louis comments, “I know why your Dad liked that one.” And that was it.  Not that anyone else saw, but I ended up tearing up over the simple thought that I can’t ever discuss this film with Daddy.  It had so many side stories and threads woven this way and that – prime film material for our long-drawn-out discussions.

Whenever something makes me want to cry, I remember the silliest of song lyrics/movie lines and it’s really odd that those four lines remind me of Daddy because he didn’t like that movie. (I’m not a fan or having that one on continual repeat, either.)  “He lives in you.”  And, yes, my mind sings it.

I’m thankful for memories.   I’m thankful for times when I hear my Daddy in my siblings and children – just things he often said or quirky humorous lines.  I almost cried when I first saw my little brother in his new glasses with the hat and stubbly beard – because if the beard were a bit longer, that is how I remember my Daddy (from when I was a toddler) and my little brother is a spitting image (face) of my Daddy.

I feel sad that Daddy won’t see Teddy or Thea (our Baby, named after his/her great-grandfather Pearson) but I know I’ll keep “Living the Legacy” (another song… yes) and just like the girls don’t “remember” their Great-Grandmother Jeanette yet they know her love and life through us, my children will know their Grandfather Pearson’s legacy because it’s in us – and my extension, also in them.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Savor Life

We should savor life at every stage!

February 2, 2019

Savor Life

I’m a few weeks or so from giving birth to our seventh little miracle.

Lying in the bed (because of some biological oddities to hit just as this baby started, the cold that normally would take me two or three days to fight is taking a stretched-out time; I’m on day seven) Louis says, “if the afterbirth is harder each time, maybe we should stop with this one.”

I smiled, but since I was lying toward the wall, he couldn’t see.  “I’ve always treated each time as if it may be the last.”

“Really?” I guess this shocked him a little because I love being pregnant, I love the infant stage, I love the growing independence of the toddler stage, I love each and every step so far in this journey.   Although I’m fully prepared for God to say, “this is the last one” sometime, I’m also fully prepared to continue going through this amazing cycle of mothering a miracle.

Yes.

I guess it’s complicated.

See, about the time I was pregnant with Kimberly, I grew a great deal in my understanding of how to allow God to have full control in my entire life.  I thought I trusted Him with everything but realized that I was quietly hoping to have a multitude of children and not really okay with less – or even three.  But I asked myself, “What if God’s perfect number for you is three?”

I began to realize that God’s perfection was not limited nor driven by my wants.  (DUH!)

I decided early during that pregnancy (with Kimberly) that I would savor every second, every feeling, every hiccup, stretch, movement, and challenge that came along as if this were the last time I would carry life.

I already loved being pregnant.  I shared that love with my mother and Louis’ Grandma Honey (she told me once she would have been pregnant her entire life if God had allowed her!).

At that time, I had a shift of my mental state.  Instead of trying to always project perfection, I wanted to savor life with my family.  If this meant not fully finishing with a cleaning chore before we went somewhere, then okay.  If this meant taking a break to look at a cool flower while I’m supposed to be hanging clothes, okay.  If this meant letting someone else watch the kids so Louis and I could go out, then that was okay.  I realized I was trying to follow other peoples’ ideas of what my life should look like and had unconsciously adopted those ideas as “perfection” – and yes, perfection as it was in my brain was never truly achievable!

My stress level fell so much in those few months while I grew Kimberly in my belly and started a new “temp” job.  I may have looked busier, but I felt so liberated!

Even though what followed (from 5-weeks after Kimberly’s birth) was what I honestly believe was the most grueling, difficult 18 months of Louis & my married life, I was able to find a well of thankfulness to pull from when I felt so far down.  Without my new understanding of submitting totally to God’s plan, I would have probably allowed the horrid miscarriage to drag me into the jaws of depression.  I realized even as I cried in the stupid bulk-grocery-store bathroom, by myself, hundreds of miles from home, while I “passed” the fragments of what was once a life I felt and loved, that God had even this time in His hands.  He knew all the whys and I wasn’t to understand them; just to trust Him.

So, fast forward almost 12 years and  here I am lying with this little miracle kicking up a nice sensitive bruise under my right side.  Life in its cycle, totally unexpected, another prime example of God’s timing and perfect wisdom (Click here for that crazy amazing story!).  I’m rubbing on my belly because it makes the Baby move around and react to my touch – and I LOVE that.  I’m playing with this little one before he/she is born!

God has done so much, so many unexpected things that have lifted us up despite the weird, harsh, and unexpected challenges this past year.  God has taught me to savor all life – all stages and parts, from babies and pregnancy to friendships and siblings.  Take time for and savor everything.  There are miracles everywhere.  Yes, I’m okay if this is my last pregnancy and birth.  I’d long ago given all control to God.  I mean, if I trust Him with something so awesome as my salvation and eternal life, how can I not trust His wisdom in family size?

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Wimpy Atlas

Ever feel like everything in the world is raining down on your shoulders and you can’t keep anything up? That was today…

December 20, 2018

Wimpy Atlas

Am I the only one who feels like Atlas with wimpy shoulders sometimes?

Yesterday was a good example:

I got up at 5:30am to work, the guy cancels as I’m just on the road.  Bummer.

Get back home, waste of a half-hour prep and 20 minutes gas and time, but I try to stay positive.  My breathing flared up; can’t lay down to go back to sleep.  Grrrrr… hot tea and honey while I work on my character cards for the 6th in The Devonians – 26 characters in this one because it is set during a community planting season.

I write a program for translating ages – this will make future work easier.   I had my tea.  I hoped I would avoid having to take the allergy pill (discovered a natural antihistamine as I’m allergic to both Benadryl and the emergency inhaler I was supposed to be taking 4 times a day, but I still prefer not to take anything).   I pick up the second ride.  I’ve now made $20.

I chose not to dwell on sad things pinging around the back of my brain.

But when I got home about 11, I was starved.  I made my Shakeology because Louis wasn’t hungry (the kids had already eaten, and I wasn’t going to make a whole breakfast just for me).  Louis took the next call so I could finish eating.  I gathered all my stuff into neat little piles so I could use my tools to guide my story.  Christina needed help on an Algebra problem so I set my Shakeology cup down.

But… (that word NOT in the positive this time!)

As I finished with Christina’s problem *BAM* I turned and knocked the full Shakeology cup over ($3.50 meal – I hate waste)!   *SPLASH* the broken blinds, the window, the lamp, the wall, EVERY ONE of my 26 cards, my hand-written “cheat sheet” I’d created almost a year ago for the Devonians families, and the floor are covered in goo.  Imagine slightly soupy pudding – that’s the consistency of Shakeology + coffee.

Immediately, as quickly as the drops of fluid, everything negative that I was trying to hold back rained down on my brain.

The evening before, Mom got Daddy’s ashes… all that’s left of his body is in two boxes on her table.

Didn’t get to stop by Mom’s on the way home (*thoughts* you are a horrible daughter.)

Didn’t get to snuggle on the couch with Lucas because I was cleaning while he fell asleep (horrible mom.)

Didn’t get to fix my pie or anything to take to the party (horrible guest.)

I had to drive in the morning but only had two calls & the would-be big one canceled (horrible provider.)

Lucas wanted me to play trains… I was busy teaching (again, you never play with him!)

…and on and on and on… my brain just rained down things I wished I could have done differently, things I wanted to do but hadn’t, and things I should have done.

I felt like the world was falling on my shoulders and squishing me flat.

Now I was hungry, it was noon, and the very next call was “make some rice for lunch” because we had one pound of beef in the freezer and “stir-fry would be good.”  All I wanted was to type my frustrations out and make another Shakeology to actually eat.  I wanted to get to my vitamin shake before I went to work at 2. (I was leaving early to stop by my mom’s today!)

I read somewhere that a mother is the Chief Mood Officer in her home.  When I start getting lost in emotion, I remind myself of that.  I turned on Christmas music, started cleaning so I could start rice, and prayed I’d be able to pull my own mood up (and keep the house from growing dark).  My siblings’ party is tomorrow.  I can choose to shift my focus on the positive.  Hopefully it works!

*By the way* I didn’t get my shake until I was on the way to work, my mom wasn’t home when I got to her house, and on… BUT I was working playroom so had brought my Devonians folder and was able to use the 40 “lost” minutes to recreate some of the destroyed cards.  I forced myself to focus on the positive again… this week has been a constant challenge for me.  God.  God is totally in control. (I just need to lean on Him – His shoulders are not weak.)

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

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