Tag: grandmother

Life Goals

December 28, 2022

Life Goals

I continually reevaluate my “life goals,” if you want to call them that.  

Core has always been to love Jesus, pass that on to everyone I can touch, and show love when I can.  The additions have changed a little:

Pre-twenties, I wanted to be a wife, mother, and teacher.  Did that.  Am living that.

Twenties to mid-thirty: The only earthly thing I wanted for my children was a home they all grew up in and family roots.  I failed at that. Life teaches you lessons and you hope to pass on the results so they don’t fall into the same trap.

Thirty-three and beyond, I only want my children to love Jesus in a true life-long relationship; I’ve learned that everything in life beyond relationships is just temporary.  

Lately, my older children have made comments in passing that really cut to my heart.  The first year I didn’t unwrap a gift from you.  (Her gifts were too large to wrap & smaller things were in her stocking.)  Wow, they’ve lived there like 12 years, that would never be us.  (We did have a home for 14 years, just moved to two different places during that ownership to help other people for seasons.)  You don’t give me stuff like the other girls’ moms.  (No, I can’t give anyone a brand new car as they get their license, a new laptop, the latest phone, gaming systems, etc.  I provide you with opportunities to save for those things and decide their value yourself.)

Those things and other assorted in passing comments have made me delve into self-examination for the past couple of months.  I can’t talk to my Daddy about it, praying feels one-way, a memory pops up of Louis’ accident last year and the days of challenges and miracles, I feel like I’ll never dig us out into property that is our home (though I keep reminding my doubt that I left that in God’s hands, the doubt keeps trying to come in), people I know whose children I know are dying from poison, I pray daily for those I know who are affected: my life feels useless as I feel like I can’t do much for anyone.

This morning I saw the evidence of a life well lived.  My entire perspective changed. 

There was a young woman in a beautiful wedding dress beaming a smile holding onto the arm of an elegant man in a suit.  Their faces shone with love.  The photo was a portrait size and in black and white; aged scores of years. You could feel their love.  Two candles on either side of the little table below the portrait.  Mementos and memories on the table; he had passed away before her.  It reminded me of my mother’s tribute shadowbox for my Daddy.  Her home was full of framed pictures: children and grandchildren in various smiles and grins.  A few in the midst of laughter – those cherished candid photos that you keep even if they aren’t the best quality.  Worn rocker.  Stockings.  A Christmas tree.  An open Bible.  Her faith and the relationships she had cultivated radiated from each well-worn book, devotional, and study guide on that little bookshelf. My writer’s brain wondered how many of those books she or her husband had bought and then passed around. How many grandchildren had heard stories from that Children’s Bible with the bent binding?  Children told her goodbye: that they loved her, they didn’t want her to leave, that they would see her later in heaven, one told her to give daddy a kiss from her.  

That is a life well-lived.  

Her children loved her enough to keep taking care of her at home; like Mom did for Grandma Jeanette.  Don’t ever put me in a nursing home.  Because of love, they sacrificed and made it happen that they cared for mom at her home so she could die in peace.  Her face showed that peace.  

That is a life well-lived. 

I was so overwhelmed with emotion for that wonderful woman I didn’t know.  Grandma Jeanette told me once to “live with no regrets” which I also remember from the lady who gave me my first cookbook.  She’d been married four times and raised five boys.  Her life story was how to gather things and make stews and build add-ons to her house and save people from storms on the lake.  Her sons all passed on her faith; I played with her grandchildren and they were the first group of children I’d met who talked about Jesus like a close friend like my family did.  She wrote “God will bless your life, let Him lead,” in my cookbook cover (I was 7 years old).  She died shortly after at 90-something.  

That is a life well-lived. 

Live with no regrets.  Love without reservation.  

My goal is to allow my children to see Jesus through me, to trust Him in everything, to do my absolute best to shine His love wherever I can.  

Life doesn’t have to be long to be well-lived.  I consider the life I’ve already lived to be amazing.  I thank God for each day He’s given me.  For the challenges we’ve overcome as a family, for the health miracles which are the reason my babies and I are here, for the protection over my daughters’ hearts as they allow it, for the relationships we have with each other.  Those I’ve known for seasons who are friends like sisters and brothers in my heart.  Growing those relationships as best I can even when life is “too busy” and time is challenging; that is a goal. 

Live with no regrets.  Love without reservation. 

I was 12, she was a beautiful frail girl with a rapturous joy of life and Jesus and family when we met her.  She shared her love with everyone without caring what they thought.  If someone stared at her bald head, she would approach them and say, hi, how are you today? And try to show them love and happiness.  She came to our house probably because we treated her and her sister just like we treated anyone else; we played with them, swang with them, took them for canoe rides, fished on the shore while she braided flowers, played with our chickens and dogs together, told stories to each other, and otherwise enjoyed life.  She lost her battle with cancer shortly afterward, but I couldn’t cry.  She was home with Jesus like she talked about all the time.  She told us we had to still play with Danielle.  As long as we lived there, we did.  I still love Erica and Danielle like they were my own sisters; since we were sisters in the faith, we are sisters. 

That is a life well-lived. 

He was his sisters’ baby doll.  He protected everyone.  He was loved by everyone.  He knew who needed to hear and in turns shared his faith and struggles and love with them.  His smile told you everything you needed to know; he was genuine.  He died protecting those he cared about.  His legacy is the love and relationships left in the hearts of those he loved and who loved him; and the relationships they created when coming to celebrate his life.  He was my brother’s friend.  His family and mine were intertwined in so many relationships through many seasons of our lives.  

That is a life well-lived. 

My perspective shifted.  It set me back on the track that my brain keeps trying to veer me off of.  My true life goal is to shine with Jesus’ light: to make strong relationships, to build into people, to share my faith, to encourage others, to help when I can, to do my very best to love as Jesus does.  And in Jesus’ time, when my story on Earth is finished, I will go home and those I love will see a life well-lived. 

Right now, I’m living my life well-lived!

Thank you for reading!

Type at you next time!

~Nancy Tart

Doubly Blessed

A tiny story about how my prayers being answered became my children being doubly blessed!

January 15, 2022

Doubly Blessed

Note: (wrote this December 5, 2021 when whomever decided my computer operating system is too old to connect to wordpress anymore!)

One day I was cleaning bathrooms at a church work day and met a wonderful woman.  She was cheerful and spoke about Jesus like a best friend.  She was encouraging.  I thought “I’d like to learn about life from her!”  I saw her a few times over the next year or so at that church.  My brother liked the youth pastor and he needed a chaperone – thus being, when the youth group was participating in clean-up days or work days or whatever, I was there with him.  We started attending that church. 

About fourteen months later on a warm July afternoon, I went to meet the parents of the young man I had started dating that Friday.  Although I knew God was telling me I had the green light to marry this one, my logical brain was fighting that suggestion.  The woman I wanted to learn from?  I was dating her middle son!

I have an amazing mother whom I love.  God gifted her to me when I was born.  I never thought I would love another woman in a similar way.

But God’s ways are awesome! 

I tell people I have two moms.  One I was born with and one I got when I married Louis.  I love how Joanne is so accepting, loving, supporting, and helpful.  She and my mother, Tina, are quite similar.   Someone mentioned today that the normal “mother-in-law” is someone you fight with and tolerate or even don’t like.  I’m so grateful for the blessing of my mother-in-law.

I pray that God gives me the same grace to my children’s spouses.

This is because the blessing of loving in-laws passes through generations.  Loving interaction and respect between the parents and newlyweds turns into future strong grandchild-grandparent ties.  When a mother-in-law or father-in-law is a friend and mentor, the grandchildren see their parents show respect and love to their parents; visibly strengthening the children’s understanding of “honoring fathers and mothers” and set the stage for generational connections that are hard to sever.  My children have many fond memories of their grandparents on both sides!  I’m so thankful for that.  

That I’m a friendly, welcoming person who looks at the girls’ future husbands and Lucas’ future wife not as competition for their attention but as blessings God has planted in my life as well as theirs.  I pray to be like Joanne.  She is such a wonderful model of mother, grandmother, mother-in-law, and friend.  I have known and loved her for twenty years – related to her for a little over nineteen. 

I smile; I never considered how sweet God’s answer to my heart’s desire to “learn about life” from the bubbly, serious, hardworking woman whose company I enjoyed one Saturday while cleaning bathrooms at our “new” church – I would really get to do life with her!  She would be my mom. 

Thank you Jesus for amazing blessings!

Thank you for reading,

Type at you 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

Culture: The Importance of Family

May 10, 2020

Culture: The Importance of Family

Imagine you are raised a young woman, married a few years with two children. Your family is part of a group sojourning in a land with people hostile to you. In your family’s culture, women are to obey their fathers and later husbands. You and your husband love God. You honor His law. Then you hear at the well that the midwives are commanded by the king to destroy all male babies of your people as the baby is being born. But you hear how two of your midwife friends fear God over the king and so being, do not obey him. Yet you are scared for your people.

You find yourself encouraging and helping; but the fear is everywhere. Women are praying their children are girls so they are not required to kill them.

You find yourself pregnant. Part of your heart wrestles the fear – should you pray this child is a girl? Your husband smiles and whispers, “we fear God, the child is a gift.” But you hope that stays true even after the child is born. Your daughter and son see the fear in the people and look to you for comfort. They look for assurance that you live by the faith you speak of; do you fear for your baby or trust in God? You smile and tell them, “God has given us this child, God will keep the child safe.”

But you wonder. Death and affliction are around you. The rulers hate your people. Many of your friends have faced death and the shroud of death for defying the king expands to all in their household – or so the stories say. At least twice you have known it was truth. Would you risk the lives of your husband, son, and daughter for the baby if it is a boy? Which is safer? But the rumblings of the little person growing inside you remind you as you wrap your arms around your swelling belly that this child is worth the risk. God’s gifts are always worth the risk.

When the day comes and you labour with your own instead of calling the midwives, you birth the beautiful child whose lovely eyes catch away your breath as you stare and study him. Him. Yes, your daughter says “I have a baby brother!” and your husband hugs you and the newborn tight. Your son glances up at you to look in your eyes. You are not afraid. You will risk everything for this love. “We will keep him hidden.” Your husband smiles. Your son and daughter relax in their trust of you as they see you trust in God.

But you know there will come a time when your tiny illegal child will be too loud. Someone will know, someone will tell, and there must be a way.

You are learned as your family teaches even your daughters to read and think; you know that your afflictors bow before idols. One is the god of the river, Hapi, and you know that women wishing to be fertile yet cursed with barren wombs go and bathe at one place. Also, the wealthy do not nurse their own offspring, instead they hire a nurse for the child. You begin to watch. Daily you go with your daughter in tow under the guise of fetching water and food yet along the way you see the women who come to the water. They all wish for children; the longing in their hearts and souls are deep. Their sorrow causes tears to rise in your eyes. It also waters the plan you have devised.

Your husband does not agree quickly, for him it is a horrid idea to turn his child, his beautiful gift from God, over to some heathen woman regardless of whether it may save the child’s life. How can you think of killing our son’s soul in this way? But it is your daughter who says, “but Father, what if they chose Mother as his nurse?” and this you both continue to discuss and pray about.

The time comes when he is too big to hide anymore. His tender hunger cries have turned into the periodic wails of teething, striking without warning and so loud you fear his voice will call soldiers from every corner of the globe. Now, you set him adrift in the basket of woven reeds and pitch you have carefully crafted, and carefully place it among the reeds to drift into the part of the river where the barren women come to bathe. Your daughter stays as a guard. You leave to pray.

This is the sorrow, trust, and faith of Jocebed, wife of Amram and mother to Aaron, Miriam, and Moses. She placed her trust in God and brought an illegal child into the world, hiding him from those who would kill him. She watched, waited, and used the heathen culture of her people’s enemies against them.

We know the rest; the pharaoh’s daughter comes to bathe and finds Moses. He cries and she takes pity on him, knowing he was a Hebrew! A girl appears and says, “may I fetch you a nurse to suck your baby?” and this educated woman of Egypt says, “yes.” Do you think she didn’t know this nurse would be the child’s mother? Wow. Just to imagine these three women and the things they chose to do… Jocebed in faith and love, Miriam in obedience, faith, and love, and Pharaoh’s daughter in love and pity of a child who she took into her home in defiance of her father’s order.

Just some thoughts.

I know that most of us spend today thinking about our mothers. Not to say I don’t! But I love to step into the shoes of those before. I love to try to see their struggles – how powerful Jocabed’s faith! Not only to give birth and refuse to destroy her boy, but to give that little gift in faith to another believing that God will allow her rather devious plan to work trusting her family can pass their faith on to this child in the short amount of time they will have him (while she nurses him).

Wow.

Think about the various challenges we mothers face at different points in history, through various cultures, and in various strata of existence. All of our stories are different, but the theme of faith, love, and hope permeate them all. We all want the best for our gifts and pray to effectively train them up in the little time we have them.

Give thanks for the mothers and grandmothers and motherly influences in your life.

Thank you, God, for mothers!

Thank you for Reading,

~Nancy Tart

Overcomer: Movie Review

September 6, 2019

Overcomer

My family went to see the new Kendrick brothers’ movie, “Overcomer” on opening weekend.  Oh. My!  This film has great acting, believable serious characters, some realistic humor, and glaring, real-life truth.  It catches you into the storyline almost instantly.  Major disappointment we can all relate to begins the story.  The one glimmer of hope comes from the coach consoling his players with a very serious, “next year will be our year.”

Well, life happens.

(Isn’t that always what seems to be true? We plan what we see as perfection, but a monkey-wrench gets tossed in to muck up said plans.)

The primary employer in the area closes, relocating to another area and because it offered the workers transition into new jobs, of course, most workers relocate along with it – taking the team members with them in ones and twos until only one is left.  Imagine being 17 years old, hoping for a scholarship in your favorite sport and boom, because of something outside of your control, your team is decimated to where you don’t even have a poor team to be the star of.  This faces the coach’s eldest son. 

Meanwhile, the coach is facing an aggravation that blows up in slamming bricks into shattered bits of sand.  He can’t see the light of anything.  No team, 10% pay cut, no scholarship for his eldest son, and being “forced” to coach in a sport he pretty much hates, cross-country, with a team of one (okay, if you’ve seen the trailers, this isn’t a spoiler) – a girl with asthma. 

Enter Hannah.  A petty thief stealing to prove she can get away with is who happens to be granted what her grandmother believes is a “full scholarship,” really her private school tuition is paid for by her late mother’s friend.  This girl feels she has no friends, feels abandoned by everyone (parents are dead, Grandmother is always working), and good at only one thing – running. 

Coach’s wife feels they are teachers to answer a calling of caring for students and showing love.  She accepts Hannah 100% without reservation. 

Coach is still internally fuming over his losses. 

Providentially, he accidently steps into Thomas’ room.  A man whose not-so-old body is being torn apart by wasting diseases brought on by his drug-addicted and abusive past.  He was a champion runner.  Over time, Coach picks Thomas’ brain on how to coach Hannah. 

*Spoiler Alert!*

Don’t go any farther if you don’t want the whole “hidden” twist revealed.  As the blind Thomas asks Coach about himself, I whispered to Thea (she can’t tell anyone anyway, but I like to talk about movies as I watch them and she doesn’t care if I “ruin” the movie) “Thomas is Hannah’s father.”

Yep.  My storywriter brain is connecting the “coincidence dots” and morphing an awesome story of redemption – yes, that’s what the movie does.  Thomas abandoned his family (leaving Hannah with her Grandmother who holds a deep root of bitterness) to chase drugs and junk.  Once though, Thomas was a champion runner.  He believes God has given him a second chance. 

Doesn’t God always do that?  He always gives us a chance at redemption.  I love pointing out stories in real life and in movies where there are second chances or last minute redemptions.  Yes, we are nerds, so I’m usually at least twice a week discussing the redemption story of Star Wars – you know, how Anakin had good intentions, fell away from the good side, wrestled with himself, did so many bad things, yet redeemed himself with his last few hours and gets to be a “good part” of the force.  Redemption has always been offered but we have to accept it. 

Overcomer is one the girls can’t wait to add to our collection – if we didn’t have a limited budget, our clan of ten (my mom joined us) would have gone to see it the next day too, bringing friends along! That is the first time the girls wanted to go back to the theater and see the same movie again.  Usually, if we see a movie together (usually a Star Wars flick), they leave saying “I can’t wait til it’s on DVD!” This one was, “can we see this again tomorrow?”

One line got me as a mother: “For 6 weeks, I had the perfect Dad.”  (Hannah says this at Thomas’ funeral.)  I cried. God used what looked like simple choices to weave together a tapestry of forgiveness, freedom, and purpose for so many people.

What has God orchestrated you toward?  Are you open to love and forgive, or are you stubbornly clinging to bitterness as revenge?  Think about it; what one choice did you agree with God on and now see so much more than just one simple thought of “oh yeah, I did the right thing.”

I love it when movies make me reflect on my heart.

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

House Hunting 101 – Lesson 1 – Location

June 10, 2019

House Hunting 101 – Lesson 1 – Location

We’ve been planning toward our next step – home ownership.  We are grateful for the place we are currently renting, but because of the black mold infestation (it’s under control, but we don’t own the house, so can’t remove it) we are actively looking for a place to own.  Somewhere that hopefully, we are smarter about and keep (I still miss my grapefruit trees that had just started fruiting after 7 long years!) forever.

Right now, we are still in the “finish paying off debt” stage, but with end-of-business debt down from over $14K to $800, we are seeing the light at the end of the tunnel after a little over 2 years.  (Yippee!!!!)  Next step is to have 6 months of expenses in the bank.  Then we start saving for a home.

We’re being really picky this time so it will be a while, but it is fun to discuss, think, and plan!

We have learned that the primary item isn’t size or neighborhood, but location.  Driving isn’t pleasant for Louis (I don’t like the “wasted time” either, but I use it to dream up stories, interview fake people in my head, and pray.) so we thought about what type of location did we want.  We wanted to minimize driving.  But what are the constants in our life?

Not work… (Although I hope I keep these jobs until I retire – my plan as Operations Manager is to eventually shift to a few hours in the early mornings or two or three days a week and be available the rest of the time remotely.)  Remote is awesome.  I get more done in the mornings (like now, at 5am) and I really can’t stand being gone from my family this long (9.5 hours for my 8 hour day – 1.5 driving).

Not hobbies… because we love beach, tennis, walking, bicycling, surfing, swimming, watching nature, growing things… anything active and we usually make those things happen depending on what is around us or in our own yard.

Not even church… seriously, that’s once a week and most of our lives we spent driving an hour or so one way to the church we were called to.

School was it.

Don’t laugh!  Yes, we homeschool.  I mean St Johns County.  The kids will be going to college at St. Johns River State – Christina and Becky are active now, but based on normal college-bound years, we will be driving to and from that campus for 20 years (if we aren’t blessed by any further editions of Tarts).  We love St Johns County (yes, it’s extremely pricy and super hard to rent or buy land here, but it has been awesome home-schooling here and we love the people!).  St Johns County has a fascinating, amazing array of trade school and college opportunities for our children – I mean, seriously, our teenagers are college-course-takers.  Christina’s credit hours mean she’s entering her sophomore year of college as she enters her junior year of high school!  Several young friends I know have graduated FCTC and entered directly into the job force at 17 & 18 years old.  Two make more than me!  So, educational opportunities are our standard constant that won’t change for quite some time.  Plus St Johns County puts us equidistant from Embry-Riddle in Daytona and University of Florida in Gainesville (the goal schools of the first three).

This means, proximity and ease of driving to and from the campuses of St Johns River College and First Coast Technical College is the “location” part of our choice.  SR 207 out to Hastings, up behind Masters just along the city boundary, over 16 and north along US1 to the old trash road east of Palencia: any open-rural or agricultural property in that range is fair territory.

Both of Louis’ grandmother’s houses are in this range (Wouldn’t one of those be so awesome?  To live in your grandparent’s house!) and the house we currently live in is just off that perfect spot, but close enough that yes, we’d buy this land if we could (build a cozy house in the other corner of the land and knock this rotting thing down, but we love the land!) and I like Wildwood Drive.  While driving Christina to CAP one day, we saw a “for sale” sign in the yard of a beautiful concrete block house off of Lewis Speedway & Woodlawn on a bit of land.  Nice location.  Louis pointed out that one was near CAP, which three more plan on joining.

Anyway, location, location, location: OR or AG in easy driving range of St Johns River & FCTC.

The realization that we will be driving students back and forth from one of two college campuses for 20 years… wow, just wow.  That’s pretty cool.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

A Family Journal

June 2, 2019

A Family Journal

I’ve been working on two projects for each of my children.  One was a crocheted blanket for each – king size, crafted from their favorites in a pattern they chose.  I’ve only completed one.  The second is about 15 rows from completion, but I haven’t worked on it since Thea was born.  It took me 17 months for the first half of Christina’s, but during one superbowl at Louis’ dad’s house, I completed the other half!  So I’m fast, but it will likely be the next week I have off – and then I’ll start on the third of seven.

The second was started in December 2016.  It looks like a simple book, right?

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Actually, I started a journal for Christina.

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It tells family stories, I write my Bible study notes, discuss issues, and write my prayers.  I tell “her story” from my perspective starting from the last page moving forward.  I saved the fourteen pages in between this story and my “journal” for family.  I am going to ask women in our family to write encouragement and blessing to her in their own hand in the journal before I pass it on to her.

I’ve got a central core of stories I will have in each journal – all will be slightly different because I never write the same exact words each time.

I want to write all the wisdom I’ve heard in stories from my grandmothers, mothers, fathers, and mentors in a way my children can read them when they choose.  Maybe they will be encouraged, challenged, or just smile realizing that they are not alone in a struggle they feel slightly too proud or too embarrassed to ask for help about.  I try to relay life and our journey in these bits.  I manage to write at least once a week and direct most of my writing as if I’m talking to her.  This also helps me to process my thoughts.  I also have a required study day if I forget. (Which, yes, sometimes I read without studying, but at least once a week I remember to write my study!)

Such a simple little book.  It holds our family memories, stories, and encouragement for a young woman.  (I need to get busy on Becky’s as they are growing up too quickly for me!)

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Thankfulness

Time to reflect: thankfulness

November 21, 2018

Thankfulness

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.

Tomorrow is also my 16th wedding anniversary!

The time leading up to Thanksgiving is when I usually reflect on the amazing things that God has done for us.  I often start with how every move in my life led to new experiences that helped build who I am – and the time I wrote in my journal “I’ll move with them one last time.”

That was to Saint Augustine when I was 18.

Just after that move (January 2002) I went to a family reunion where every adult teased me about not having a boyfriend (had never dated) and I remember replying with “in God’s time it will happen.” It was an awesome fun time where I met many relatives and learned many stories about my late grandparents.

January 2003, one year later, I was married, carrying our first child, and working in the town where my husband’s family had lived for generations.  The roots I’d wanted as a child I married into.  I instantly had two amazing grandmothers.  Grandma Jeannette taught me amazing things like crochet and canning food and cooking or preserving local Florida produce.  I loved learning by her side.  Grandma Honey had the most fascinating stories of Cracker life as a young girl and her journey as a mother, wife, and artist (she painted amazing landscapes).

If I had planned my life (as I did in notebooks since being ten years old) it would not have included a 4-month courtship.  I always planned on “knowing someone” for years – generally all the way through 6 or 8 years of university – before marrying.  God had other plans.

I didn’t plan on immediately getting pregnant – married in November and baby’s beautiful face is framed in our wedding cake topper on our first anniversary photo.   God had other plans.

We both planned on having a big family, but then our naïve thoughts of “big” were relative to the world around us – he thought 7 like his grandparents, I thought 7 like my parents.  We agreed early on that we’d let God decide our family size.  I don’t think either of us were truly thinking we’d ever be blessed with 7, maybe 3 or 5; maybe, and that would be “big.”  God had other plans.

Our little blessing growing within me now was totally not “according to plan” as I’d gotten sick and we’d decided it wasn’t a prudent time to start new life.  God laughed; this little one was already growing.  And the hormonal imbalance caused by my reaction to multiple medications which my research said would take 18 to 24 months to reset, was reset by the pregnancy within 5 months.  Although we thought we were planning well, God had other plans.

I love how my life didn’t go according to my “plans” – and I’ve kept diaries since I was ten, so I can look back at plans I made.  I didn’t stop making plans, I am a planner and organizer by nature, but I so love it when God’s plan intervenes and “surprise” life things happen.  I love God’s plans and how they are so different (sometimes) from my “plans” but so reflect my true heart.

From little things like my future sister and I working at the same place at the same time without knowing each other to amazing life events like marriage and births; in each, I see God’s powerful hand.  I’m so thankful for His direction and for the wisdom to allow Him to lead me.

I’m thankful for the ability to keep our family sustained.

We’ve always had jobs.

When one door closes, God always had something else waiting in the wings for us.  Sometimes far different from what we expected, but still awesome.

I was at an interview and someone commented on the variety of jobs I’ve had (Software Developer, Customer Service aka Ride Operator, Bank Teller, Business Office Manager of a Skilled Nursing Facility, Co-owner & Manager of a Transportation Company) – I had to add my recent update to that list as I’m currently a Gymnastics Coach.  His question was what could I bring to this job (food retail)?  Well, each position has taught me new skills and the list proves I can learn anything.

This official job experience doesn’t list that I’m a published author of over 50 books in children’s, educational, and young adult genres!

It’s amazing to me that God found me a job where I can combine my love of teaching, physical fitness, and a childhood dream!  (Gymnastics Coach)  I love the environment in which I work and the people with which I have the privilege of working.  Someone said it’s a step down to go from business owner to working for another small business.  Nope.  Not at all.  I bring a work ethic with me where I understand the challenge of being a small business owner and I always work my job as if it’s my company – even far before I was a business owner.  Ask me, it’s “my gym” – just because I get to work there!

I’m thankful for all the steps along this life journey.  I’m thankful for the people I’ve met along the way.  I remember faces and some names – people like Mrs. Joy up the big hill when I was 8 in Eutawville, South Carolina who baked cookies with my sister and me and gave me my first cookbook.  I remember Grandma Jeanette telling me after I’d been married a year or so, “honey, you were going to be my granddaughter, no way out of it” because she had prayed for me after meeting me at church (before I met her grandson).  I’m thankful for mentors, family, and friends.

I’m thankful for all I see before me; God has been so gracious and generous to me and my family.  We’ve been blessed so very much.

Every time I reflect on the blessings God has given me, I am overcome with gratefulness.  I can’t help but whisper a prayer of thanks.  Even though we won’t be “coming together” for “thanksgiving dinner” on the actual Thursday this year, we’ll get together on a different day with family and celebrate our thanks!

I pray blessings on you and your family as we reflect on all that we can be thankful for!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Mother’s Day 2018

May 13, 2018

Mother’s Day 2018

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(Yes, that’s my crazy, fun, brood with their Dad! – the featured image is with me!)

Today is Mother’s Day.

I’m grateful for my mother; for all the guiding and love.

As an adult, I’ve come to see that a lot of mothers compare themselves to others: their mother, grandmother, aunt, or friends. Sometimes, we perceive that everyone else is way better at this mother job than we are.  But that’s not how God wants us to see ourselves.

God blessed you with your children.  (Or the children you impact, like your nieces, nephews, friend’s children – you are impacting them too!)

He wanted you to have them!  (Isn’t that humbling? Imagine giving your child to someone else, that’s what God did when He entrusted his child(ren) to you!)

He knows you and he knows them – He knew it would be a perfect match.   With His guidance, you can do this!

Instead of comparing myself and ending up thinking I’m super failing, I analyze myself and try to make my attitude, behavior, response-time, or self better (self-improvement!) for them.  I want to be a better mom; everyone is growing and no one is perfect.  But God gave your child(ren) to you, your job is to be their mom!

Enjoy this stage of life without cutting yourself down.  Instead, if you find yourself feeling that you aren’t as good as you want to be (everyone feels this at some times), encourage yourself to improve.  Your child(ren) need you to be just what you are: Mom.  And they love you! (Yes, even at the teen stage when they may not say it anymore!)

Thank you to my Moms, Grandmothers, Aunts, mentors, and friends: you’ve all helped and inspired me!

Smile, dance, play dolls, build blocks, race matchbox cars, bake cookies, sing silly songs, take funny pictures; do all the fun things that you sometimes push away because you’re busy.  These little memories live in your children forever.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

 

Finding Perspective

For whom am I writing? An author’s first question to be answered before beginning a story.

December 20, 2017

Finding Perspective

One of the most important things for me to find when I’m writing is the perspective of my target audience.

Simply: for whom am I writing?

For Web of Deception, I was writing to the adventurous young adult (myself and my brother), for the Brantley Station Saga, my target is young adults, and my target readers for The Devonians are those in first through fifth grade.  The Funny Sisters stories are written to be read-aloud so they are more complex.  My goal for them is to entertain both the mom or older child reader and the younger preschool or elementary listener.

Story From the Inn was written when one of my girls mentioned, “I wonder what it was like to work at the inn where Jesus was born.”  (We had just watched a show about the culture of Jewish life in Jesus’ time and read through a book about growing up where Jesus lived.)

I imagined the small inn at Bethlehem run by a family (most were in that time) and one daughter (one my girls could relate to) always trying to help yet always getting underfoot.  This became the eyes and ears of my target audience (my little girls).  Children would relate to Rachel and see, hear, and feel that inn, culture, and special event through her eyes.  I dove into some more specific research and developed Rachel’s story of Jesus’ birth as remembered by a beloved grandmother while entertaining several grandchildren awaiting a new baby’s birth.

Rachel epitomized most children: full of life and expectancy, eager to help, longing to please, and constantly asking questions.

In the moment, Rachel doesn’t understand the magnificence of the event, she only feels elated that she gets to help with a birth (something “big”) and hold a newborn baby (for the first time).  As the storyteller, she reflects on this as an adult, to complete the circle.

Check out Story From the Inn to read Rachel’s story!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you later…

~Nancy Tart

 

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