Tag: song

Mary Did Know, Do You?

Sometimes I may think too deep
#2022 #Family #HistoricalThoughts #DidMaryKnow #DidMarysMotherKnow #RaisingGodsKids #ChildrenAreAnHeritageFromTheLord #Psalm127_3 #SpeakLife #ChooseTruth #TheyAreWatchingYou #MotherhoodIsAnHonor #FatherhoodIsAnHonor #Reward #Gift #Blessing #Love #ShePonderedInHerHeart

December 31, 2022

Mary Did Know, Do You?

I read a post today that said “Mary may have known, but her mother did not.”  

That hit me.  We sing the song “Mary Did You Know” which I love, but always mentally I remind myself that the Bible tells us “Mary pondered these things in her heart” regarding the Angel’s visit, the visits of the shepherds, magi, the Angel’s message for them to flee, even the time when they lost Jesus in the temple.  She was constantly pondering.  Considering, probably praying, “God, direct me.”  She knew what responsibility God had given her.  

But her mother?  Mary was favored by God.  Her mother must have brought her up in the wisdom and admonition of the Lord.  The whole post was about this – Mary did know, her mother did not.

Don’t we all know?  I mean, not that every one of us carries Jesus or looks as the Creator of the World in our arms and ponders it in our hearts… but each of us who are mothers have carried at least one little child – don’t they all belong to God?  

I remember looking at my firstborn: tiny, beautiful face and long eyelashes, strong little fingers with a tremendous grip, perfect tiny toes, I drank in every little detail of her sweet, fragile body.  We prayed over her because we knew she belonged to God.  Even her name was a promise from us; Christina Elizabeth means “Believer in Christ, Servant of God,” it was our promise that we would do our best with the few years God gave her to us.  

Each little one afterward I’ve felt the same utter joy and overwhelming responsibility.  They are God’s kids, not mine.  I get the honor of mothering them and we get to raise them; pointing them in the right direction.  Our prayer is that they take on the responsibility for their relationship themselves and continue to grow in grace and love.  

Mary did know what honor God had given her.  Mary’s mother knew only that she was raising a daughter of Israel, a girl who would become a woman.  I imagine that all mothers whispered in their hearts to their daughters before Christ’s birth, “live true, child, it may be you through whom the God of our Fathers chooses to bring the Saviour of the World.”  I imagine that Mary’s mother’s mother whispered the same thing to her.  They lived in the wonder of hope and faith.  They believed in the future reality and each prayed she would be the girl given the honor; each woman didn’t know if their daughter may be the one chosen by God, but they chose to raise their daughters to be wives and mothers to honor God.  

They heard or read as we still do, “Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord; and the fruit of the womb is his reward.” ~Psalm 127:3  Children are a blessing, a reward, a gift God gives us to give back to Him. 

No, we do not know what plans God has for our children, but we can pray for their path and lead them to an understanding of God’s love.  We are all entrusted with raising our children for a time, but they all truly belong to God.  

Thank you, Jesus, for the honor of motherhood!

Thank you for reading!

Type at you later!

~Nancy Tart

Stretching Her Eagles’ Wings

Enjoy each moment! We know our children are “on loan” from God for a little while & then they take flight! Enjoy this adventure, Becky!

Stretching Her Eagles’ Wings

August 28, 2022

Part of our educational philosophy is never to hold anyone back.  That is sometimes the hardest part of being a homeschool mom, at least for me. 

Friday, Christina, Louis, Thea, and I drove Becky to Pensacola Christian College for the start of her next level.

The car trip was fun.  Louis and Christina kept playing songs Becky likes and saying, “oops, that’s not classical or hymns” which made everyone laugh and several discussions of songs and lyrics and morality erupt.  We didn’t stop as often for potty or snack breaks as Louis thought we’d have to (Thea was too entertained with her big sisters and Christina, Thea, and I packed a bunch of snacks). 

The campus was huge and iconic.  Beautiful brick and magnificent stately trees reflected tradition and integration.  I’m a bit nerdy; I loved the architecture and old fashioned style.  Everything was electronic though!  I had received an email asking for a physical copy of a specific document – and being leery of electronic access as I am, I brought the actual paper.  Didn’t need it.  The electronic version of the printed paper in my purse “transferred” perfectly from St Johns River without a thing from me.  As Becky’s “authorized parent,” I was able to load into a portal on my phone that allowed me access to maps, her mailbox information, orientation information, even schedules and everything as if I were the student – Becky said it was creepy, I thought it was cool!

After crossing off the seven things (five on the “welcome” list, but with Becky under eighteen there were two paperwork drop offs and as she’s in the work program, she had a task for that as well) Becky had to do and being as much help (okay, Becky would call it hindrance) as possible, we decided (not precisely accurate, Louis decided) to go have a late lunch together just off campus. 

Someone likes Becky’s new spot!

Mellow Mushroom.  In Pensacola?  I thought the one on Anastasia Island was the only…  oops.

Finally, I ended up with a picture of my college girls.  They thought it cool because both are Eagles and blue & gold & white.  (Kimberly got in on that because she took her SAT at Pedro Menendez High School so she considers herself a “Falcon” and even has a Pedro Menendez Vystar card!  She pulled it out and showed them the blue & yellow colors – “A falcon is a type of eagle” Kimberly claims.)  Becky laughed because she and Kimberly plan on being Gators when they head for their Masters & Doctorate.  (“trading the gold for orange” they claim) Remember that mustard yellow skirt?  Becky’s pairing it with her beautiful navy blue blouse turns her outfit into her college colors!

I’ve been listening a lot to college plans since we encourage studying the path to what they want to do and finding various ways to access that final goal.  There was a lot of path and plan discussion on that road trip. 

I’m so proud of Becky for taking flight!  I pray she has a wonderful experience and learns a lot.  I pray she makes friends and connections that will last a lifetime!  I pray she does her best.  Her best right now is amazing me.  I’m truly excited for her entering this stage. 

Thank you, Jesus, for making it possible for us to help our children pursue their dreams!  Thank you that each of them wants to help the other.  Thank you that each wants to invest in their own education by working for it both financially and mentally.  I’m so thankful for the blessing of Becky in my life!  Thank you, Jesus, for allowing me the honor of being her mother! 

As I’m driving back home, chatting with Christina as Thea and Louis sleep in the back, I think on how parents only really get to father or mother their children for a few years – they are on loan from God anyway as all of them are God’s children entrusted to us.   “21 years” by TobyMac came on the radio followed by “Cinderella” by Stephen Curtis Chapman… God knows how music touches me.  One bit in the “21 years” song that makes me smile is “21 years, what a beautiful loan,” (I thank you Jesus, for trusting us and “loaning” Becky – and the others, but this thought was really about Becky – to us) and in “Cinderella” the bit is “but I know something the prince never knew,” [meaning they grow up and go] and yes, girls become young women, make their own decisions, and I pray mine know they can still talk to me about anything. 

Enjoy your “loans” with your littles!  Enjoy every bit you can.  God has trusted us with training and raising His beautiful children!  Just like I love watching “my little gymnasts” (those I’ve coached, usually as preschoolers) as they rise, I love watching my girls become young ladies. 

I love you, Becky!  Let your light shine!  Enjoy this adventure called life!  Every day is a gift from God; that’s why it’s called the present!

Thank you for reading.

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

Christmas with the Chosen: The Messengers – Movie Review

A Movie Review: Christmas with the Chosen, the Messengers.

Christmas With the Chosen: The Messengers – Movie Review

January 17, 2022

(Note: This was written December 7, 2021 when whomever decided my computer’s operating system can’t access wordpress anymore)

First thing you have to know – I love Christmas! 

Second thing… I’m usually the one who talks everyone else out of going to the movies.  I’d rather sit at home and wait until it’s free. 

I have gone to the local theater for movies like “WarRoom” and “Overcomer.”  We decided to go to the theater for the “Christmas with the Chosen: The Messengers” movie last Saturday evening. 

Wow!

I have only seen part of one episode of the Chosen.  I do not like watching screens alone and when I’m home, we tend to be doing something outside, playing board games, or Louis is watching a sports game.  After this, I really want to watch them all.  Hopefully, it won’t be like the Bones series.  Grandma Joanne introduced Christina and Becky seven years ago.  We watched them after the littles went to bed and I was dispatching late at night (cab company era) usually one or two episodes each week or two.  I got to season three, we had to start borrowing from the library and the girls got impatient!  They would breeze through them!  Christina and Becky saw them all, then rewatch it and Kimberly saw them all, now Jaquline is even farther in the series than I am! 

At least with The Chosen, we can watch them with everyone. 

At the theater, my Mom and one of Christina’s friends joined us.  “Tart, party of twelve!” – our nine, one sister-cousin, one friend, and one Grandma… we took up half of a row!  

In retrospect, I have to laugh at all the wiggling feet and trying to be considerate but busting with worship sing-along voices!  Becky said if Christina’s parents’ guide website had been better informed, they would have mentioned it was best to observe this film from the back rows if your party has the proclivity to get roused into song and dance by concert-style worship songs – Becky called it “Passion camp on film.”  My only dancer who got to her feet was Thea, but she is little so everyone behind us could still see over her.  I wanted to dance!  I would have blocked too many peoples’ views though… I literally had to stop myself a few times.

I still think The Nativity Story is the most realistic culturally accurate story highlighting Mary and Joseph’s journey.  However, this film was incredible!  It had a short portion that showed, in what I’m gathering is the style of the series The Chosen, the journey of Mary and Joseph with a bit of a twist (no spoiler, I promise). 

If you enjoy music or historical reenactments, this is a must-see movie event.  

Thank you for reading,

Type at you next time!

~Nancy Tart

Walk and Enjoy

February 3, 2021

Walk and Enjoy

Louis likes to do “spur of the moment” fun.

We had a lovely Saturday; work, the guys watched a game, we played outside, we had some really good food some of the girls helped Louis with, and we were winding down for the early evening when suddenly…

“Let’s go downtown!”

“Yippee!!”

Everyone grabs warm top layers for the wind. They have learned that Florida winter off the Bayfront can be cold. “Shoes? Socks?” I have to remind the gymnast crew that feet need to be covered as well. We load into the van and we text Becky (who was babysitting) and her charge’s mom to make sure they wanted to come and had permission.

We swing by and grab two more singers to add to the movie soundtrack sing along concert and windows down – well, down partway because we can’t freeze the baby! We continue to the only spot you can find parking on busy Saint Augustine nights (behind the Lightner Museum, you’re welcome) and walk down MLK to the Bayfront.

Well, actually, that is the cliff notes version. It sounds tame. Nope, not tame at all! Jillian was just 9 and commented on how we are all odd for now. 17, 15, 13, 11, 9, 7, 5, and 1. Thea will be 2 shortly but yes, for almost a month, all of our family and Anastasia are odd. One of the kids pipes up with, “but oddballs all the time!” Which makes all of them laugh and act silly. All of this and we haven’t reached the front of the Lightner!

We climb, jump, skip, or literally skip the steps up to the grass (Dad jumps up the wall instead of using the steps). “Cartwheels!” and there are five gymnasts showing us backward rolls, cartwheels, roundoffs, handstand rolls, and other such skills on the “softest grass around town” and two or three popped into a handstand contest. This turned into running in circles around a small tree, playing a quick round of tag, and pointing out horses and trolleys as they passed. And dogs. Christina noticed every dog of all types from a pair of tiny Maltese scurrying along like fluffed up marshmellows to the giant Newfoundland walking with his huge head taller than Jillian’s!

Now after most of their giddy energy has been spent, we are ready to walk our normal almost 2 mile route. They always giggle and ohh and ahh like this is the first time they’ve explored downtown. I love that! As we are standing at the intersection waiting for the walk signal, Anastasia announces, “Huge group coming through! Party of ten over here!” One of my teens at the rear is literally pointing and counting heads! We look like crazy tourists!

“Ooooo!” shriek six voices, “look at that cute doggie!” Please don’t hurt the doggie’s ears!

At the Bayfront, they all turn toward the bridge, “May we walk the bridge?” “The bridge, yeah!” “It’s so windy we better hold on tight!” (It’s not that windy, but let their imaginations run wild!) “Look! Lights on the boats!” And, yes, we walk the bridge! They pause, run, race, and walk; depending on whatever imaginary fun thing they are doing at the moment. Louis keeps up with the racers in the front and Mom slows to stay with the chatting teens in the back. Really, Mom is walking or jogging at Thea pace. Thea thinks she is scared of the big lions – never before has she been scared of them (vacuums, lawnmowers, air dryers, showers, yes, but not large carved critters until today). She is not scared of the grate over the water anymore (or maybe because it’s dark and the water looks black just like the grate?) which makes crossing the bridge easy.

Craziness walking back (all as a group this time, which is interesting with the motorized bicycles that are in the narrow walkway! “Single file! Don’t try to fly right now!” – yes, I yelled that ahead!) and watching boats from the “turret” (the spot where we can all fit!) while they sang jingles and cracked jokes.

Along the stones at the Bayfront, the moon was gorgeous.

Many people were just walking right from the sidewalk up to the sea wall without stopping to see the obstacles so it was another “straight line please!” and “not on the grass!” or “watch out!” as five duckies from 13 to 5 maneuvered through the groups of tourists like a long snake in a single row with the 5 year old leading to the fort.

Fort! Finally!

They run up the grassy hill to the midsection where they all have ingrained lifetime memories of rolling to the bottom. Same five duckies go rolling down the hill in three, two, one! Rolling over each other, around each other, past the baby roller to reach the bottom, laugh, and climb back up to start again.

Now it is walk down (they rolled) to the crosswalk that gets us in the alley by the Pirate and Treasure Museum (We’d love to go in, but it’s closed which means window shopping and vivid imaginations run wild!) to St George Street. They read t-shirts from windows, announce shop names, talk about where family members have worked, and sing along with songs from the live bands we pass or sing along with whatever they are humming in their own head.

Lots of “ooh, doggies!” and “wow, look, a horse!” exclamations later, we get back to our van and the parade turns into another dance and sing-along party where the whole backseat is heads bobbing in time and Thea’s whole body is wriggling like a worm (except for her torso, tightly strapped in the baby seat). By the time Becky and Anastasia get to their destination, two of the adventurers are asleep.

I love making happy memories! I love Louis’ spur-of-the-moment perfect outings and ideas! Thank you, Jesus, for my family and for fun! Thank you for the time I have with them!

Walk and enjoy!

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

Temporary Home

February 13, 2020

Temporary Home

Sometimes music just hits me. I love to listen to songs of all kinds. One of my newest favorites was from a movie we watched a little bit ago – “Speechless.” Even though as an analyst I understand that wouldn’t have been accurate for the culture, still, it was perfect for the movie and absolutely perfect for viewing children to understand that they have to stand up for what they believe regardless of their culture.

Today, riding home, I heard one I’ve always loved but haven’t really heard in a while. Carrie Underwood’s “Temporary Home.” But today I couldn’t stop crying through the song because I could see real people in all stages of the song. In my mind I saw three little children I knew (the little boy), my sister before she died (the single mom), and my Daddy (the old man) – only my mind altered the words to say “old man, chair at home, surrounded by people he loves…” and the image was of all of us at the last Christmas when we were all together.

I can’t stop crying when I hear this song now. Even thinking about it.

My family is (fingers crossed, prayers for God’s will regardless if it is ours) in the process of trying to be approved for a new home in a development that comes with a nature park as a backyard and friends we already know and love as neighbors all up and down our future street.

Regardless of whether we get approved, any house we live in is temporary.

See, I moved all over the place as a youth. 19 times in 19 years (no, not every year, longest in one spot was 2 years 9 days). I always found new adventure and opportunities in each new place.

But I wanted my children to have roots.

When we bought our house, I counted out 2 years and 10 days on our calendar and circled it with smiley faces. It meant so much to me to be in one place. God taught me a lot when we faced the loss of our company, our house, our stuff, our income, and what felt like our future – mostly by means out of our control. One bank gambling that we’d have a chunk set aside (which we would have if we hadn’t just had to pay all of it to cover one driver when wrecked because she drove without our permission while upset) meant that they would accept nothing less – we couldn’t get a loan for the amount our house was “underwater,” because so many foreclosures around us (almost every property sold in our area in the last 3 years had been a foreclosure) had dropped our property from being worth $150K to $83K. Even the lawyer said there was nothing we could do.

God taught me to let go.

Let go of my dreams of one place my whole life…

Let go of my trees, roses, things I had tended for 10 years…

Let go of our animal graveyard where we had lovely trees planted over each of the foster animals whose last home we had been…

Let go of my little farm I loved…

Let go of things that we’d collected…

Let go of our repaired table that had been Louis’ parents, the chandelier Louis gave me for the first birthday I had in our house, the big-screen TV Louis had wanted since we got married but we had finally saved and bought for him the past Christmas, the beds that had been my brother’s and were now my children’s, dressers that had been mine and Katy’s and were now Christina and Becky’s, dressers that my Daddy brought for Becca when I was 13 and now were my dresser/mirror, Kimberly’s dresser, and our shoe cabinet, the baby cradle that my Daddy had bought for my Mom when she was pregnant with me – it had rocked every one of my siblings, a few of my children, and was their stuffed animal bed now…

Each felt like a stab to my heart then. Now? I couldn’t care less about stuff. I’m thankful we got to keep Daddy’s surfboard, the girls’ schoolbooks, their legos, and when the auction people came out and took our one vehicle they asked how we got around and Louis told them “the bikes” – so they left the 6 bicycles and the baby bike trailer by writing “rusted and very poor” over the “bicycles” on the list. (Honestly, every one of them except for Louis’ had come off the side of the road and were rusted, repainted, repaired, etc. so likely not worth any real money.)

Temporary.

All of those things are temporary.

The only thing that is permanent is our relationships – love.

Any house we buy will be our temporary home. We will fill it with love whatever size it is. Yes, we’re praying for a spot with at least 5 bedrooms where the children can at least break into 3-2-2 because I’d like a baby room for Thea and Lucas and we want a “guest bedroom/Grandma suite” because we look long-term at something we’ll be buying for 15 to 30 years! The big girls want to come back and stay as they go through college and until they buy their own home after their careers are established (and Mom is totally okay with that!).

Temporary Home.

If Daddy had heard that song, I’m sure we would have discussed how true it is. I’m reminded of him all the time. I want to discuss the issues arising in my professional career – crossroads that I’m not sure if I’m making the logical or the heart decision. I miss his advice! I heard another country song I’ve heard dozens of times about visiting hours in heaven… Oh wow, do I wish I could just talk to my Daddy again!

Someday we all will leave our temporary home. What will be left is our legacy – our love – our heart. Those we have touched. The memories we made. I pray I make the right decisions daily so that I leave as much of my heart, love, and truth as a legacy for those who love me.

Thanks for Reading!

Type at you next time!

~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

Behind the Picture: Thea and the Apple

Behind the Picture: Thea and the Apple – Becky and her photography & funny snippets.

February 25, 2019

Behind the Picture! Thea and the Apple

Becky likes photography.

Becky has an interesting sense of humor.  When she takes pictures on the play phone and sends it to me, I get this: (Thea is about an hour old)

20190220_103158.jpg

Kimberly and Christina changed Thea, bundled her up, and as Kimberly is bringing her to me, I hear a singing voice: “We’re taking the baby to Isengard!”  (I have no clue how I have the honor of being “Isengard,” but this was the look I got: )

20190222_0900418193066633324775749.jpg

In the first picture, Becky was trying to get good pictures of newborn Thea.  Becky was making faces to get her attention, Lucas ran up with an apple in hand to “help,” and Becky ended up with a picture that had just the “wrong” angle – but it made a funny meme picture.

20190220_1029212833114955824090289.jpg

The girls are totally enjoying having a new baby sister – and Lucas loves being her “protector.”  He told Louis he was “protecting Baby Thea from dog kisses, bad dinosaurs, and big sisters when they don’t listen.”  (The last was likely because Jillian kept touching Thea’s head when we said not to touch her soft spot.)

I’m so blessed by their joy and love towards their new sister!  Christina, who was worried about being “too much older” than the baby, can’t get enough time holding her!  I am twelve years and eleven months older than my baby sister (she was also my parents’ seventh) – so I told Christina and Becky they both were older “big sisters” than I was.  (15 yrs 4 mos & 13 yrs 4 mos, respectively)  At this, Becky sends me a “wow” emoji though we are sitting at the same table!  (She was supposed to be using the phone as a calculator.)

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~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

Train Tracks

Memories with train tracks: little brothers, giggling elves, children 🙂

December 11, 2018

Train Tracks

One Christmas, about 10 years ago, Christina, Rebeccah, and baby Kimberly received a train track set with two little trains.  It was a tight year; Mommy had found it at a resale shop for $7 with its own storage tub!  This was the “big present” that year.  Mommy and Daddy almost woke the little sleepers up giggling and playing with it as we set it up around the Christmas tree.  Daddy put the crayons (Mommy saved those from penny sales at the start of school time) and coloring books in sets around it.  Three tins with special cookies and treats we’d made were wrapped up and set around the track too.  Other presents gathered around the tree, hiding in the circle of track.

That sturdy mix of train track and car track has been heavily played with for many years.  It was Lucas and Isaac’s favorite thing to do – “play train tracks” from as soon as they could run every car that would possibly fit down the track.

The tracks fit together like puzzles.  Jaquline likes to build the track.  Lucas likes both building and “vrooming” trains and cars on it.

They built this one together and took pictures of it!

20181206_1104195748206307900559165.jpg

20181206_1105043954539503027679608.jpg

20181206_1104554986581210186772895.jpg

Lucas has become a little puzzle-fitter when it comes to making the tracks fit lately.  The latest update for him has been adding mega-blocks and duplos under the tracks to raise them up over the “water” floor.  Once Jaquline showed him this possibility, he’s been trying it by himself!

20181206_110408.jpg

This little run below was all Lucas.

20181209_1517286821474625617708261.jpg

We heard the Christmas song that goes “…little toy trains and little toy tracks…” and Lucas shouted, “Mommy!  A song about my train tracks!”

We donate at least one bag of toys every year as Christmas gets closer, (this year Lucas chose three of his “best cars” to give away to another little boy, and Rebeccah “found” a Lego set in their Legos which she printed the instructions for and gave away) but these tracks stay.

I remember making train tracks with my brothers, and am glad to make “train track” memories with my little ones too.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Follow me!

Get my latest posts delivered to your email: