Tag: hope

Powerfully Thankful!

Have you ever been so overwhelmed with thankfulness that it makes you cry? #AwesomeBirthdayPresent #HealingMiracle #JesusTheGreatPhysician #Reflection

February 23, 2022

Powerfully Thankful!

Have you ever had a day that blew you away with the power of God and made you cry because you are thankful?

I’ve had quite a few since December 1st. God keeps doing amazing miracles and making me thankful – like December 10, 2021 when God saved Louis from being crushed in an accident on the interstate and December 11, 2021 when God saved my sister from dying in an accident.

Today, I’m just so thankful! A young man my family is very close to got sick on Monday – we all prayed for him. Last night (actually early morning today just after midnight), Louis led us praying that when the doctors went to do surgery, they’d find that he was healed. He asked God to touch his body and heal him completely as He is The Great Physician.

This morning, we were told he was waiting for final testing and would go into surgery. It made me so sad – I could only think of how my heart would be ripped apart if this was my Kimberly I was praying for. I love this young man and have seen God constantly work in his life. I know God can heal everything – he made the entire universe with words he spoke; He can touch a human body and repair it. In His will. That is the toughest part for me as a mom; my mind and heart fight over why God would think that my baby sister dying or a child being seriously injured or a young man slowly withering away because of a genetic disease is in God’s will.

Faith. Trust. Hope.

My faith reminds me that if I can trust God for salvation, if I can trust that the gravity and physics he set up will remain, then I need to trust His will in my life and, yes, my children’s lives and my friend’s children’s lives. Trust and pray in everything.

I have hope in that I know I will see my baby sister in heaven. I know I will see Gideon and my Daddy running and jumping and playing dodgeball and kickball in heaven. (Hey, those were favorite games so why not?) My hope is in Jesus.

When the report came back, this young man’s test came back with healthy! No surgery. Healthy on other tests for other organs! I was so happy! God, what an amazing, perfect birthday present!

I’m so thankful for healing, for life, for love, for family, for friends. So many things God has given us to enjoy – beautiful days (I bicycled to work Monday morning, we finally hung the Christmas gift swing yesterday), discovery (finding shoes Lucas hid because he prefers being barefoot), goofy games (trying to keep assorted Thea birthday balloons in the tiny square made by the couches and the wall by batting them with longer balloons), amazing gifts (homemade sugar-type m&m cookies are my favorite and I LOVE roses), traveling mercies (thankful Louis and Becca are alive), late night giggles (my favorite sounds even though I have to say, “girls, go to bed!”), healing (too many times to list!)… this list is endless.

Thank you, Jesus, for your amazing miracles!

Today, I’m so thankful, I cried.

Reflect on what amazing miracles God has done in your life and that will surely make you smile too!

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

Hold Longer

August 17, 2021

Hold Longer

A song came on the radio today. It was the first time I heard it. Casting Crowns’ song called “Scars In Heaven” played while I was on the way to after school pickup.

The first line says “…if I had known it was the last time…”

I almost cried. I prayed, “thank you, Jesus,” because the last time I saw my Daddy on Earth I did “know.” It was a nudge, a distant feeling I almost tried to brush aside in disgust.

Of course this isn’t the last time I’ll talk with Daddy, I told myself.

But I listened to the nudge. I’m forever thankful for that nudge.

I waited until I would be almost late to pick Christina up from the library (it was going to close). I hugged him tighter than normal. I did just what the singer of the song is lamenting he didn’t do. I have always tried to listen to that tiny nudge of a voice that usually is right in the back of my head. My mind usually tries to argue with it. Like then. I tried to brush that feeling away because even though my Daddy’s health wasn’t great, I didn’t want to believe I would ever walk in and not find him sitting there, ready for long talks, vibrant discussions, and heartfelt conversations.

I heard the singer’s heart hurt as he sang of how if he’d known, he would have held on longer, hugged tighter, talked longer… But we never really know.

God tells us no man knows the hour or day of his own passing.

My father and baby sister are in heaven. My baby never met her Boompa. I didn’t really cry or grieve for them. They were both prepared for death. Both loved Jesus and are now in His presence. I can’t logically cry for them. (I’m way too logical over deep things but I find it’s the silly little stuff that makes me cry.) I wasn’t ready for either of them to go. Just like we are often not ready to die, we are also never ready for a loved one to die.

My Daddy gave me a special gift long ago… He had grown up without his mother (she died when he was 12) and when we were living in Sylvania and had a friend with cancer, he once said, “enjoy every day, you never know when Erica will go home.”

So true. I couldn’t even cry for her. She loved Jesus and let everyone know how excited she was about getting to see Him.

That life lesson has stayed with me. I never don’t say bye or I love you. I leave them with a smile. I don’t ever want someone’s last thought of me or my last thought of them to be bitter. I live as if each time I leave someone it may be the last time I see them. Not that I’m reckless or clingy, but I’m open, honest, and speak the truth about my love for them.

I never want someone to regret their last meeting with me.

I always listen to that nudge. I’m so grateful for God’s warning I got that afternoon… For the happy call from Charley in Mom’s kitchen six months later with Mom & Mary when I brought Christina to loan her some deposit money… For the happy memories of talking a bit longer, hugging a bit tighter, saying “I love you” before I left.

Always hold a bit tighter, hug a little stronger, chat a bit longer; always say “I love you.”

I hope you listen to that song. I pray you always remember to love while you have the time.

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

Let Thea Do It!

January 1, 2021

Let Thea Do It!

My almost 2 year old thinks she’s a gymnast and the gym is her second home. She thinks she’s a member of Civil Air Patrol like Christina and Kimberly. She thinks she can ride Lucas’ bike. She thinks she can build shelves like Mom. She also thinks she can hide from everyone in plain sight.

She thinks she can fly. (From any object straight into a big sister’s arms without warning!)

She’s been going to WGV Gymnastics attending the Parent and Tot classes (yes, we have classes for those just walking to 3 years old) for a few months and Lucas (big brother) has been doing the Preschool Program for a few months.

Kimberly is in competitive team and set up a workout area on the wall marked with degrees (set up with sticks, a protractor, and a pencil) and was like “I need to go from here to here.”

“I can do that!” Says Lucas.

Bingo.

“Let Thea do it!” Thea says.

Bingo.

Kimberly tosses her hands in the air playfully, “I give up!”

We laughed and asked, “Why?”

“My baby brother has a bigger split than I do!” Kimberly laughed, “actually,” she tries it, “maybe not.”

We all laugh because the littles are so enthusiastic about everything. They love anything and everything big siblings or friends are doing. Thea consistently tries to do everything her big brother and big sisters do. She walked into the front room last night and turned on the game computer, “play a game with Becky!” and the mouse pointer went straight to the correct icon for Becky’s game.

Thea loves to do it! Thea loves to do everything!

“Mom!” (I’m washing dishes, Thea is dragging the stool over to the sink…) “Thea can wash dishes, please?”

How do I say no? I hope she always keeps the can-do will-try attitude she currently possesses.

Type at you next time!

~Nancy Tart

God’s Fireworks

June 7, 2020

God’s Fireworks

When Christina, Brian, and Becky were little, way back when Becky was going by the nickname of “Lori” and we had a big brown dog they named “Dakota” after a Disney song from a movie that went on repeat for easily two months… we lived in a house with three huge windows in the living room that opened to the huge front yard and made it easy to see the summer storm lightning shows. 

Dakota would hide under the table during the storms.  Christina and Becky had just watched the Fireworks over the Matanzas – our one family tradition that has never been interrupted for 16 years – and they comforted Dakota by saying, “it is all okay, Dakota, this is just God’s Fireworks in the sky.”

One of the first summer storms to pop up this year and we get this picture and the following video: beautiful examples of the volatility and beauty of nature.  The big girls had to tell the little ones the story of Dakota and how we came to call lightning shows “God’s Fireworks.”

We listened to the wind outside howl and thunder last night.  I’m reminded of the changes in seasons.  From drought so bad we had to carefully nurse our garden with deep watering twice daily to this rain so filling that our watermelons and tomatoes are splitting.

Rainy season and hurricane season are here.  Change.

We choose to embrace each change in life as it comes.  We adapt through changes.  Sometimes we don’t like the change: like being locked away, losing jobs, losing summer camps, losing scholarship opportunities, losing VBS, losing the potential for a house… etc.

But we overcome and rise with new goals and hopes. 

We shift our job focus from what makes money to what we love!  We stop watering the garden and now watch for the signs of splitting fruit.  We work harder.  We find other opportunities.  We chose to look for the good in each event.  We choose to see the setbacks as challenges to rise above. 

We choose not to be bitter.  This is a hard one.  We must understand two things: we only can move forward and we can only change ourselves.  We cannot control what circumstances we are thrown into but we can control our reactions to said circumstances. 

I choose love.  I choose joy.  I pray my children follow in my example and choose love and joy when life throws them circumstances that seem unfair.

The lightning reminds me today that the world is broken.  Lightning can cause damage.  Lightning can cause death.  But lighting shows are beautiful, awe inspiring dancing electrons in gorgeous flashes of bright light and colored thunderhead clouds.  I choose to see the potentially dangerous lighting show as beautiful: “God’s Fireworks”

I choose to see setbacks and losses as potential to rise with joy and allow the peace that passes all understanding to rule my heart.  Odd that lighting makes me think of contention and losses… but that’s my weirdly wired brain.

Thank you for reading!

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

Shattered

May 16, 2020

Shattered

Again. Shattered Again. This is what strikes my heart again. Of course, in the big scheme of things I realize, this is tiny. This isn’t losing a family member or going bankrupt. Logically, my brain tells me that this isn’t really a bad thing and there is likely a reason behind it, but still…

I can’t ignore the emotions that were tearing me apart when Louis said he got the email.

We never, NEVER, would have showed our children the new house (they’ve been calling it that) unless we were told it would happen.

We were told, based on incomes and expenses that it would happen. Our debt-to-income ratio (we know all that, studied before going to attempt for the loan. We had the credit scores above the requirement on the website, we’d done all our own figuring, we make three times what we would need for the maximum monthly payment!) We were told everything was good – we even asked over and over, is this really going to happen?

Well… of course, we lost income, BUT IT IS TEMPORARY!! Gym can open back MONDAY – two days from now! Are they only looking at one of my two incomes? Are they not looking at Louis’ income at all? I’m still working at the office! Louis is still working at uber.

WHERE IN THE EARTH did some loan person decide that she would NEVER once talk to me but CANCEL our documents because “they have zero income” when she didn’t even check? That’s a lie! That’s a stinking, irritating, hurtful, dream-shattering lie! We have lost income over the stupid COVID19 government shutdown garbage, who hasn’t? But to say that is permanent? It’s a bump in the road! A mortgage is 30 years!! Do you expect our income to never change in 30 years??????

We’ve not deferred ANYTHING… we’ve chosen to keep the down payment (yes, in the bank, safe and untouched!) and pay minimums on credit cards that we had to use for groceries, yes. Gym was forced to shutdown temporarily – between Monday and June 1st, I go back to work as soon as they open.

NOTHING has been late; not FPL, not our rent, not our van or car payment (we pay off the giant van payment in 4 months!)

Why is this hurting us? I thought this was responsibility? To keep the down payment, to choose to pay bills on time instead of ask for deferment, to pick up odd jobs to keep our income up while this stupid government decides to ruin our jobs and now – yes, shatter our dreams AGAIN!

Christina and Kimberly lost summer encampment, Christina, Becky, and Kimberly lost Passion Camp (this was the only summer they could all go together), the VBS they were looking forward to is canceled, they miss out on their gymnastics show, the girls are despising this whole zoom meeting garbage where they can’t talk and meet in person…

Becky said, “they can’t take our house, can they?”

It seems, one mortgage person can LIE and say we have no income while NEVER ONCE contacting or trying to contact me, Louis, or either of my bosses regarding our actual status of employment – and yes, deny us our house.

So while I understand that if someone takes the last 4 weeks of my paystubs and averages them over the course of a year, they will think we can’t make our payments; right now we are only missing about $200 a month (with the expected higher mortgage rate and this doesn’t count Louis’ income) – and we loose a $650 a month liability (paid off vehicle) in 4 months (so then just my income alone will cover our bills with more than $400 surplus!).

What really hurts is the LIES. I had to get this information from one lady we called because Louis got an email saying we no longer qualify and so have to pay a cancellation fee… ?????? Why can’t we at least get a courtesy call? No one ever asked? Not even a text. That’s seriously taking social distancing too extreme.

I hate that I took my children to see this place. I hate that I’m so gullible. I hate that I shared my dreams with others and now feel embarrassed that we even tried.

I am determined to at least speak to this person before I agree to pay for a lie.

I pray that God sets this up the way He wants it. I pray my emotions level (which, yes, after writing they always do) so I can speak calmly and rationally. I pray to see the good through this curtain of hurt. I so wanted to have those friends as neighbors, I really wanted to have Treaty Park as my backyard, but whatever; I should have known we will never make it to a real house.

Emotions are sometimes things we hide. I do. I try very hard not to let anyone see anything that isn’t positive. I try to be the mood lifter, not one who complains or cries or feels darkness. But I do. I feel darkness right now – like all my life I’ve dreamed of having a house where I could raise my children and grow trees that would shade my grandchildren – I know, silly. I saw a plan online that almost mirrored the house I’ve been building in my sketchbook all my life and even though we had to give up the place that was my first dream, I thought that if this all went through, it was a second shot at my dream. Next year would be too late: Christina wouldn’t be in that house. This faint hope rose to believe we’d have one season before Christina went to college. A place my teenagers wanted to be in.

These are raw emotions. We all have them. We all scream at the irrationality, lies, deception, cheating, or hurtful things that shove us or our loved ones into positions they don’t want to be in, shatter their dreams, or whatever.

We have to do what works to calm ourselves down and realize that God is in control; yes, even when someones lies and it shatters our dreams, it is just an opportunity for God to show us something better…

Anyway, I write to sort through my emotions; what do you do?

Thank you for reading.

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

Questions:

September 23, 2019

Questions

I love how children ask questions.  Sometimes their questions make you go search something.  Like “what is a rainbow?” or “why are leaves green?”

Sometimes their questions mirror your own; but those you won’t speak.

You know, questions that your doubting mind asks but your thinking heart understands.

“Why are you crying?” I ask.

My little girl is riding with me to go pick up two of her big sisters, “why did Aunt Mary die?  Why is Mandy’s mom gone?  Jay is a baby; he will never remember his mom.”

Her tears fall as she speaks.  I let her finish talking.  My heart aches.  I ask those questions in my head too. 

“I miss my baby sister too.” I start, I want to connect with her heart. “Our world is broken because of sin.”  She nods, she has heard this too. 

“I know,” she is still slowly crying, “but she loved Jesus since she was little like me.”  (Mary had told them once that she was five when she promised Jesus her heart. I was there.  She was telling everyone about Jesus and was just five years old.)  Jaquline didn’t know how complex her aunt’s life had become so fast.  Because of sinful controlling people in her life that kept her bogged down, in fear of her life or her family’s life, and assaulted her mentally as they tried to keep her quiet and separate her from anyone who truly loved her.  As a young teen, some guy misused her, showed her that from a certain spot he could see her father’s bedroom, and told her one shot through the window would kill the man she loved the most.  He was the first to rip her young heart to shreds with his awful controlling self – then he had the gall to continue to threaten her when she moved 300 miles away!  Others treated her like dirt; lying about those she loved and people who cared about her until she actually believed these lies and isolated herself from those who would have helped her.

I could hate these people.  Instead I pray for them. 

But she’s my baby sister.  There was a part of me that wanted to go “Good Citizen” on their carcasses.  But I know Jesus died for them just like He died for me and I am supposed to love my enemies.

Switch back to my car on the interstate with my nine year old sitting shotgun with silent tears crawling down her fair cheeks.  This all flashes really fast so the same song is still playing.

“Do you ever think about where Aunt Mary is now?” Jaquline says. Newsong’s “My Heart is Already There” was playing in the background.

“Yes.” All the time.  That comforts me. “She’s with Jesus.  Can you imagine?  Being in His presence and seeing his face?”

Jaquline giggles. “Maybe all her puppies will be there.”  (Mary loved animals and was always trying to get a dog, but always the guy she lived with didn’t want one.)

“Remember the pictures of her as a baby chasing Boodle?” I ask (cutest little Maltese my family had twenty years ago) Jaquline laughs.  “I bet she’s petting him instead of chasing him now.”

“I ask Jesus why Aunt Mary is gone.” Her voice is distant. “He doesn’t answer.”

I sighed, “do you know why Jesus made us?”

“To be with Him.” Bingo.

“Yes, He wanted a relationship with us.  He loves each of us.  He didn’t want Mary to die, but now she is with Him all the time.  Only God knows when each person’s time comes to die.  We all will die one day.”

“I always hope to die when I’m old like Boompa,” Jaquline said.  “I’m not so sad for Boompa, but I’m so sad for Aunt Mary.  I’m sad for Grandma.” Yes.  Same for me.  I miss my father immensely.  I miss my sister.  I can’t fathom the depth of grief for my mother. 

“Jesus will comfort Grandma.  We have to help love her too.”  I say.

“We can be Jesus’ arms and hug her!” Jaquline’s tears have dried a bit and she’s now thinking about serving others.  She loves helping; it usually brings her happiness.

“Yes.” I smiled at her as we parked.  “And sometimes Jesus uses her arms to hug you, too.”

Big smiles return. 

Yes.  I totally miss my sister.  I grieve for the harshness she ended up living through for the last few years of her life.  23.  Her life’s clock stopped so short, only 23 years.  I always dreamed of her silly dancing at our Christmas parties for ages, smiling her beaming-happy-smile as she watched nieces and her daughter walk shakily down their aisle to their forever-love, dancing with her sons at their weddings, encouraging my teenagers in their Christian walk toward womanhood, and living her new-found free life focused on her three little angels.  Their plans, maybe not together, but at least working together for the best – the children. So, yes, I asked that question.  “Why, God?  Why is my baby sister dead?”  It seemed so surreal for me.  No body.  No last look.  No nothing.  I keep expecting her to drive up, drop the littles off, and enjoy some of whatever food we have just cooked. 

I know this world is broken by sin.  I know it wasn’t ever in God’s plan for us to have death.  I know my grandmothers, father, and baby sister are in heaven in the presence of God.  I have hope I will see them again.  But yes, I did ask those questions.  Yes, my heart aches for my family who must live without her.  I pray for all of us daily.  I find it hardest to pray for those who have hurt her, but that is my challenge.  I must love them as Jesus did.

My mind drifts back:

“…He has called us too! He has called us too! We are all disciples!  Even me and you!” The little voice yells each stanza of the VBS song.  Jumping with excitement, “did I get them all right?” 

I had been singing along and am raking something for a vegetable bed.  “Yes, Mary, don’t bounce on my tilled dirt.” We laugh and she points at her shoeprints.

“Yippeeeeeee!” She hollers and spins.  “Where’s Easter!  I’m gonna sing it to Easter!”  And she runs off in a singing blur, little bright blue eyes sparkling with life, long wispy blonde hair flying about in the Georgia breeze, she’s going to find that silly yellow hen that actually loves to be captured by Mary and sits contentedly tucked in her arms.  I look up to see my vibrant baby sister swinging on the swingset with Easter in her lap, projecting her beautiful voice with some soul-singer power as she practices the song for tomorrow’s VBS service. (You know, where the kids show off to the adults what they’ve learned in the week) Mary would tell the world that she asked Jesus in her heart about two years later.  She had such a love for life and care for others.  No one is perfect.  We aren’t Jesus.  I love her for her heart.  I will always love my baby sister. No, loss never “gets easy” but I do have hope in Jesus that I will see her again.  And that keeps me out of falling into bitterness. I can’t allow my grief to turn into bitterness.  I can’t be Rose from Overcomer; I have to choose joy.

And just like a soundtrack to my life, as I slide back in the car with the two older girls in tow, For King and Country’s “I Choose Joy” is shouting from the speakers.

Thank you, Jesus.  You know my heart.

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

Leaving My Little Love

September 8, 2019

Leaving My Little Love

I’m looking at the man cross the coffee table as I talk.  I knew even though he said it was okay to bring my baby (at this point, I’m 8 months pregnant) to work with me, there would come a time when my baby would be better off with Daddy and her siblings than at my office with three doggies, a kitty, and office phones.

Almost seven months later, I’m answering Louis’ call while at work and we are discussing Christina and Becky’s schedule for the night while Thea, hearing Daddy’s voice, is yelling at the top of her lungs. Louis says “She really doesn’t need to be in the office.”

We’d been discussing it, but I was very reluctant.  See, I can’t stand being behind a desk… I want to be active, moving, teaching.  Other adults don’t help.  I hate being still.  (Maybe why I don’t listen to midwives or doctors saying “get bed rest” and instead I’m riding to gym with my girls and Louis – yes! He drove! – when Thea is hours old to watch their practice.)  I wanted Thea with me.

Kitty shows up & Thea is in her play seat.  Kitty has stayed away from her the whole 3 months the kitten has been in the office.  Kitty jumps up on the table of the play area and Thea giggles, excitedly pets Kitty, and rubs her hand over her face and head.   Spots break out – a rash… my baby is allergic to cats! Now I won’t jeopardize her health so from then on she stays home. 

I’m sure that was God saying, “quit being stubborn! Listen to your husband.” 

Leaving her home is the hardest thing ever for me.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally thankful for my job, I’m just sad that I can’t have my little love with me.

I’m seriously living for the day when I can come into the office at 6am, even 5am, and leave at noon or 1pm.  That is my working goal.  I don’t care if that means less pay… I want to be home with my children.  My loyalty instinct keeps me returning to work.  I LOVE teaching.  I LOVE coaching – and I get to take all my children!  I feel that with the way the company wants to expand, I will be able to move to 5am to noon or 6am to noon one day soon.  I’m praying that’s soon.  I’ll even work from home on weekends or evenings if needed.  I want to be home. 

I think that’s an issue a lot of us women feel but are afraid to say.  We just want to be home when they are home!  We want to be around our teens so we can learn about these amazing young women.  We want to counsel our preteens and research their deep questions alongside them.  We want to guide and protect our elementary kiddos and watch our preschoolers, toddlers, and infants with wonder and awe as they grow and explore.  We want to help mold their little characters as that is the reason God gave them to us.  He knew we could mold them the way He wants.  He gave them to us so we could be a part of their lives and our heart knows that.  We desire to teach our children.

I feel a great empathy with those who can’t stay home or make their schedules work the way they want.  I watch my single sister (who has an amazing daughter she pours everything into, by the way) struggle with the “failure” she feels for not being around as much as she wants to be.  Girl.  That is me too.  I can’t stand being away.  I wanted a job where I could keep my children with me.  (Running a cab company, I was always home!  Even gym coach, my kiddos are there with big sister or awesome ladies/young ladies or now, Grandma!)

God is teaching me patience.  Also that I can’t be everywhere at once.  He is also teaching me to look from all angles. 

Louis has been working 60 to 80+ hours at 2 or more jobs since Christina was born.  He’s been so busy or sleeping between jobs all their lives.  Now, he has one job at evening/night leaving as we are going to sleep.  He gets to cook amazing meals, homeschool them, and watch them grow.  He took Thea home one afternoon instead of leaving her with my mom and Paige in the afterschool/babysitting room at gym. He said he loved it.  “I can see why you miss taking her to work.” He said.  He loved “hanging out” with Thea for five hours by himself.  She ate two jars of baby food, some rice, some apple, played all kinds of giggling games with Daddy on the bed, and then snuggled with him and fell asleep on his tummy.  Louis said he loves this part of being a Daddy.

Daddy and Thea

I was smacked upside the head with the realization that I was being rather selfish in my desire to always be with her.  Louis wants to be just as involved in our children as I do.  He loves the baby giggles, snuggles, and laughter just as I do.  He feels powerful and insignificant and totally blessed just like I do when one of our angels falls asleep snuggling.  We are of the mindset that each may be the last – but honestly, there is a feeling of finality with Thea that wasn’t there for anyone else.  (I’m not saying we won’t have another, just being honest about feelings – I am totally open for whatever God wants)  I need to let Louis have as much baby time as he wants. 

So, in this season, it’s the hardest of all for me; I’m away from my children ten hours a day.  I’m willing to work for the day when we have four teams, a location I can show up at to make sure the vans are stocked, the teams are off with all their supplies, and I’m joined by someone else in the office who allows me to leave at noon.  This is what I hope for.  A little more at 8 to 4 and hopefully, I’m early morning and working from home. 

My Thea, my little love, is at home.  I rest securely in the knowledge that her Daddy is relishing his time with her, and her big sisters and brother will help see that she’s entertained and well fed!

Type at you later,

~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

Fighting Failure

July 12, 2019

Fighting Failure

It’s when your mind tells you stuff that isn’t what God wants you to hear, but the logical part of you says, “yes, that’s right,” so you agree and allow the spirit of failure to permeate your day.

I know in my heart that anything discouraging that doesn’t come with a motivation for how to fix it isn’t from God.  Yet, my logical brain doesn’t always catch these.

Fighting with the spirit of failure has been tough for me lately, especially the last couple of weeks.  One of the girls says “you are always busy,” and I hear “you are never home” to which my logical brain reminds me that I leave before most  are awake and I come home straight to dinner, cleaning, and bedtime or arrive just as bedtime starts.  My brain reiterates: “you are a failure” (at being a good mom.)

Louis says, “obviously, that’s wrong” when I ask for his help and my brain says, “you can’t even put a couch cushion cover on right!” This makes me irritated so I leave because I am now mad at Louis – to which my brain shouts, “see, you’re a horrible wife,” and I believe that because I couldn’t even get dinner ready within an hour the night before but Louis can throw a gourmet meal together in twenty minutes (why do I even agree with that failure, I know I’m not a fast cook?).  My brain reminds me of strings of “wife fails” in reverse order like comic book pages on fast-forward speed laughing, “you are a failure” (at being a wife.)

I’m working so much and have little time (when they need me) lately to spend helping my family with our recent losses.  One of my friends says “you’ll make time,” and since I haven’t stopped my job or altered my schedule too much, my brain laughs, “you are a failure” (at being a good sister, daughter.)

One of my friends is going through a very trying time and I want to be there for her more, but I’m busy when she’s free or I turn into a pumpkin at nine-thirty (to get to bed by ten & therefore up by five to get ready for work) but she is usually home and free in the evenings.  My brain tells me, “see, you are such a failure” (at being a friend.)

BUT… (positive one!)

I have to remind my mind (remind = renew my mind, if you will) that we are all failures.  All have sinned and come short of perfection.  So, yes, of course I fail over and over!  God gives me peace, hope, and joy.  I do my best with what life has given me and pray for God to give me the joy (translates into strength for me) to handle what I’m lacking.

So even though physically and humanly, I am not matching up to my image of perfection (another trap for us perfectionists, we actually think somehow that we can be perfect on our own), when I remind my mind who I am, I remember this: I am saved by undeserved favor (meaning I did NOTHING to deserve it, rather I deserved to die).  Jesus knew my failures ahead of time yet chose to say, “I want her.”

Now I can fight this feeling of failure by choosing to fix where I can improve and trust God with the rest.  I’m not going to be working from home again anytime soon – I will trust God with that.  I can try to prioritize time spent at home.  (I think I’m doing good until I literally take a step wrong my first day off & bruise my neck & shoulders so I spend almost two whole days recovering and doing nothing… and those were supposed to be quality family days!)  I remind my mind, “in all things, trust God.”

The joy of the Lord is my strength.  My mind plays Rebecca St. James “Be The Voice,” and Mandisa’s “Born For This” as I tell myself to “Lay it All Down” and trust.  “This Song is Alive” and “My Heart’s Already There!” (Point of Grace, NewSong, respectively)

Music is my key to joy!  Music is how I fight failure!  Thank you, Jesus, for music!  Thank you for always helping me to fight the spirit of failure in me.

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

Targets

July 8, 2019

Targets

We have enough of a spot to set up our archery target (big fat canvas block thing) and our bb gun target (the windfresh bucket with three aluminum cans) and safely target shoot at those.

On perfect days when Mom and Dad are out, the question always comes, “may we set up the targets and shoot?”

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Anastasia rode Lucas’ bike between turns!

Christina prefers the bow and arrow – her “weapon from a more civilized age” as she mimics Obi-wan and Kimberly laughs.  Lucas is just learning to shoot with those.  We have a 10 pound bow and he can finally pull that one back.

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Jaquline and Jillian prefer using the bb rifle since our little Daisy is easier to load than the bows.  (and they are in front of the metal beam! no ricochets here!)

Kimberly likes both.  She’s a lot like me.  My favorite gift ever was my crossbow (which no, we can’t shoot here, but when we got it, I had space enough to use it).

Today, we’d backed the cars off of the carport and set up the targets.  Archery on the left and airgun on the right.  I was overseeing (and assisting with loading) the airgun shooters.  I’m not paranoid, but probably repeated “never point a gun at a person,” and “don’t load if someone is in your range of vision” a hundred times.  I like them to know how to shoot, but I want them to treat every weapon with respect.  Ocean, vehicle, weapon, hot stoves – anything with the possibility of causing injury – safety is the first priority.  Always err on the side of safety and you will eliminate possible accidents.

So for about an hour, I loaded the little Daisy and Jaquline, Jillian, Anastasia, Lucas, and Kimberly took turns taking three shots each at the three target cans.  A few “wow, you got all three!” and a few “oops, try again,” shouts.  They encouraged each other.

Sometimes you feel like you were aiming at something and the site is off.  You can’t hit it at all.  Sometimes everything falls down perfectly.  Life is unpredictable.  Sometimes your perception is off.  Sometimes something that looks perfect is lying.

Strange thoughts I have while the children are shooting?  I couldn’t get out of my mind how thoroughly I’d believed in the good while the truth was right online for me to see if I’d just searched the county records.  (I had to update my story)  I heard “Black Eyes Blue Tears” and cried.  I cried as the kids danced to “Fireflies” just a bit ago.  I pray for her ex-husband.  I pray that her babies remember her.

Briefly, thoughts like that interrupt my life now.  I am there, helping to load the bbs and saying, “yea!  You got them!” but I’m also crying inside because I was supposed to be there to protect her.  I watch Christina patiently help Lucas aim his bow.  I see her mouth move and I know she’s saying, “breathe out, release the string,” just like I did to her.  I teach them safety.  I teach them truth.  I teach them about life.  But I can’t protect everyone.  That reality hurts.

I pray daily for my children, nieces, nephews, the boys and girls in my gym classes, those I influence.  I pray they will find the true Protector in Jesus and follow His direction so their life will be anchored in love, truth, and joy.

I help Anastasia aim the rifle and she giggles when the bb hits the target box.  (The targets are supposed to be the cans, but the box counts too.)  I pray that God puts a hedge of protection around all of His precious children and keeps them safe from deceit.

Jillian and Anastasia are giggling while Jaquline grunts trying to pump the rifle because she’s too big for help.  It doesn’t seem that long ago that I was helping my baby sisters aim our old “red ryder” bb rifle down at the pond, popping off pinecone targets.  I can’t change the past.  I can help mold the future.

Hope.  Hope is what helps me through each day.

The girls are giggling again because Louis is pretending to close his eyes and act like he’s asleep.  It is easy to choose joy with these angels around.

Joy.  Yes, joy is my strength.  Thank you, Jesus, for giving me the strength to choose your joy!

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

 

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