Tag: true

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

God Knows You

This week in Sunday School, our children are focusing on “God Speaks.” One of the wonder truths in our curriculum is basically that God knows you! God knows every person, He knit them together (No one is an accident!), He knows everything about their hearts, minds, and souls (Every single hair is numbered!), and He loves each of us just as we are (All of God’s Creation is beautiful!). …and enter a favorite story that taught me about that truth…

November 7, 2022

God Knows You


This week in Sunday School, our children are focusing on “God Speaks.”  One of the wonder truths in our curriculum is basically that God knows you!  God knows every person, He knit them together (No one is an accident!), He knows everything about their hearts, minds, and souls (Every single hair is numbered!), and He loves each of us just as we are (All of God’s Creation is beautiful!).  

This love is perfect and unconditional.  

One of the stories that hit my heart as a child was that of a little Irish girl who prayed every day for blue eyes.  Her family had blue eyes and she wanted lovely blue eyes!  She considered her brown eyes dull and plain.  This story caught my 5-year-old heart because I had blue eyes and loved the way God made me, but I thought the most beautiful eyes in the world were those that looked like warm chocolate drops – honey brown.  Though I’d never prayed for different eyes, hair, or other features, I understood thinking that a feature of my body was plain and thinking someone else had the most beautiful.

Every night she would pray for blue eyes and when she looked in the mirror she would be sad because she still had brown eyes.  Her mother told her that God had a plan for her lovely brown eyes.  One day the girl grew up.  She decided to be a missionary and was sent to India.  

The people of India distrusted the white-skinned, blue-and-green eyed people who spoke of only one God who loved.  The unknowns often scare people.  The young woman’s missionary group wanted to enter a temple in India to find out if the horrible stories of little girls being sold to the temples was true.  But they were never allowed in; even when they tried to disguise themselves – always their bright blue or green eyes gave them away as strangers.  

But this young missionary had brown eyes!  She dyed her skin with coffee, dyed her hair to be dark brown, and dressed as the local people.  They let her into the temple!  Her brown eyes did the trick!  There she prayed “thank you, God, for making my beautiful brown eyes!” 

This young woman was Amy Carmichael, later known by the temple slave girls as “Amma” or Mother.  Her lifelong ministry, the rescue of thousands of young girls, would never have been possible had she had blue eyes!  God knew what plans he had for her.  

Just as God knew Amy and the plans He had for her, He knows the plans He has for you, for me.  

I am a planner; I always have a range of plans for the day, the week, the year, twenty years, etc, but I’ve learned that God knows me better than I know myself and though I may make and try to follow my plans, I always have to leave room for God to change them!  

Just a wonderful thought to think upon this week ~ God knows you.  God loves you!  What does it take from you?  You just have to choose to follow Him.  (My Daddy used to say, “and that’s the simple to confound the wise.”) 

Thank you for Reading!

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

Dating Decisions – Part 3

Dating Decisions Part 3: Discovering Real Life and True Love

September 20, 2020

Dating Decisions – Part 3

At this point in my story I am a few months into 16, realizing that my focus cannot be on someone else. Jesus is my answer, my hope, my truth, not some guy I will meet “eventually.” That brought more peace to my crazy teenage mind than any other decision I had made since choosing Jesus as my personal Savior.

I determined to stand on the principles of virtue that I wanted to find in my future mate. If I had high expectations, it stood to reason that he should as well.

I had already told God (when I was 12) that I would keep myself a perfect gift for my husband. I did some silly girlish stuff that I kept hidden – like write letters to my future husband as I was journaling. Several, actually most, of these letters were destroyed by inquisitive dogs and siblings long before I was 19. I understood purity to be in the mind, body, and heart. Of all the people I interviewed, none told me they wished they had “tried it out first” but almost every person who had “tried sex out” before marriage told me that they wished they hadn’t. Most of them cited trust issues after marriage as their reason. A few told me it made them feel less worthy or made their partner less desirable. Several did not marry the person they “tried out” with. My Daddy told me that once a boy makes a conquest, he thinks of the girl as dirty, trash, something to be discarded. He said that was why he never wanted to use anyone. He told me “men don’t use women but boys use girls.” The silver screen brought that to life in “Spencer’s Mountain” where they get the cow bred and Dad says to son something like: you aren’t a bull and your woman won’t be a cow. That image stuck with me. Stories about my Daddy’s friends, relatives in our extended family, and from my curious interview subjects led me to the understanding that if someone doesn’t respect your decisions in regard to your personal limits, they don’t truly respect you at all.

That led me to the decision that should I be dating someone and they choose to ignore or press my limits, I would back up and leave. Don’t respect me = deal breaker.

I also decided that I would give them just as much respect as I expected. That was something I already did because I was raised that way, but I made that mental decision and wrote it down just to solidify it. If I couldn’t respect them, I wouldn’t waste their time. A wife is expected to respect her husband.

I started to think of myself as a wife-in-training. I had read a devotional book where the woman writer referred to her students as “women-in-training” and I loved that idea! I’m big on apprentice type learning. Show me, direct me, and I pick up rather quickly. I think that actually learning from someone with real world experience is the absolute best. (Another reason I LOVE the movie “War Room” – if you haven’t seen it, DO IT.) I picked out the qualities that I needed to work on (like patience and not nagging) and started trying them out on my siblings. Siblings had taught me that I was low on the patience thing. (Truthfully, children have taught me that I’m still, constantly, and will be forever working on the patience thing.) I am a big sister who likes to not allow her little siblings to get in a situation she knows how to prevent, but I had to sit back and let them learn after only one warning. My Daddy boomed a deep-belly laugh when he asked 17-year-old me why I let my little sisters go out in white shirts (in Florida afternoon, Kissimmee = 10 minute torrential rainfall at precisely 3pm) and I replied with “I warned them, but I’m trying to learn how not to nag, so I only said it once.”

My focus was now on myself. I understood that I needed to be a better person for my siblings, parents, and my future family. This was just the beginning.

I was still feeling tremendous pressure from peer groups to “date” like my siblings. My study had led me to the belief that dating was a long series of pre-marital interviews. I had been to job and volunteer worker interviews. I knew that the most direct way to find out if a person was a good match for the job or position was to ask direct questions. At 16, I could no longer blame my daddy and say “my Dad won’t let me date until I’m 16” therefore I began being super direct by asking, “do you love Jesus?” About half of those who asked me out laughed in a scoffing manner and (since I was primarily around church groups) respond with, “I go to church.” My reply to that “puffy religious response” was equally “puffy religious” – “no thanks. I can only court after I’m 18.”

At this point, mid-17, I still had an excellent relationship with my Daddy. I would tell him when someone asked me out. Once he told me my standards were too high, that I was expecting perfection. My reply was, “I’m looking for someone at least as much in love with Jesus as I am; the man is supposed to be the spiritual head of the family.” I was super-focused on getting into UMR or FIT at this point (two engineering colleges I was chasing) and my Daddy was big on education which is why I believe he didn’t press the matter really. I told him I wasn’t planning on dating until I was ready to marry. That became a repeated line whenever I was teased by family or my sister’s friends. One guy I didn’t like approached me about “hooking up for fun” and I asked him if he was ready to raise a child. His entire friend group left me alone.

I had devised an entire pre-programmed set of responses to boys and now men because I had yet to be asked out by anyone I actually would have dated. There had only been two young men whom I watched and admired the character of since I was 16 and neither asked me out. I actually had deep discussions about Biblical issues with both of them and discovered more about “Biblical courtship” from the latter when I was 17.

I delved deeper into the idea of Biblical courtship with a book I stumbled upon just before I turned 18. “I Kissed Dating GoodBye” by Joshua Harris – I didn’t agree with all of the book, but there were many bits that helped me to understand the whole courtship thing.

I may have bent your ears too long in this epistle. Oops!

Ready for the biggest decision of my dating steps? Covering that next time…

Thank you for reading!

~Nancy Tart

Wonder and Amazement

August 8, 2020

Wonder and Amazement

“Mom,” this was in a very contemplative tone like Pooh Bear thinking, “do you think God ever gets sad because people don’t like themselves?”

I’m pretty sure he does. Her pause wasn’t enough to answer.

“God worked so hard on each of us to make us special. Why does the devil make us think we aren’t beautiful?”

Wow.

Unpack that one as a Mom. …as a woman…

We are each fearfully and wonderfully made. God knit each of us together while we were in our mother’s womb. Jesus died for each of us.

We know these things, yet why does our inner voice always seem to tell us we are not special, not important, not valuable? Often it is our own inner voice that says this to us. Honestly, our culture of appearing perfect and surface relationships may contribute to this; who are we kidding? It does. Yet this type of self-loathing has been around since the beginning. The Bible constantly reminds us that we are made in God’s image, that He loves us, that he set ways for each of our unique paths…

Imagine you create a labor of love – maybe a crocheted blanket, handmade dress, birdhouse, special card, meal, it could be anything – and the person you give it to throws it away in your face. “It’s ugly.”

Imagine you child looks at you with a tear-stained face and says, “I’m ugly.” Your heart breaks.

That is what God sees.

Why does the devil want us to not like ourselves? Easy answer. He wants to destroy. If we see ourselves as less, incapable, and unimportant we will not try to accomplish what God wants for us. That is what the devil wants. That is why he whispers to our hearts lies about us. You are ugly, unimportant, unloved, weak, incapable…

If you hear this… Shut it down! You are loved! Jesus died for you! He created your special character and loves every part of you! Anything telling you that you are unwanted is a lie.

Yes, daughter, you are loved always.

People may fail you.

Jobs, scholarships, schools may not want you; may choose against you.

Circumstances may try to swallow you.

But. You. Are. Always. Loved.

You have been created with an amazing purpose and a wonderful set of amazing unique qualities that fit perfect for what you were made for. This is the truth.

Encourage others! Encourage yourself!

Type at you later!

~Nancy Tart

Dropping In

Lack of my technological connection device led to some deep thought… and a fun visit!

October 29, 2018

Dropping In

I think we’ve all become too preoccupied with technology in many ways.  It invades our lives and sometimes, rather than bringing us closer together (as it was originally meant to do) it appears to spread us farther apart.

Does anyone else remember being a kid and just dropping over to your friend’s house, knocking on the door and asking whatever adult came “may so-and-so come play?”  Today’s youth have their parents text or call said person.  (Or they call/text if they have a phone.)

We’ve lost the connectivity of just dropping in.

I ended up without my phone the other night (had given it to Becky because the house she was babysitting at didn’t have a land line) and wanted to go visit with a friend.

Heavens to Betsy!  I couldn’t text or call her!  (We don’t have a land line phone either – and it wouldn’t have helped me if we did as I saved her number in my phone!)

Could I just stop over?  Drop in?  Did people even do that?  Isn’t that considered rude?

While digesting these thoughts, I realized God was still nudging me to go visit (God had put her on my heart when I was on my way to work – and yes, with no phone) regardless of my lack of ability to warn her of our approach.  (Yes, we are like being descended upon by a flock of chattering geese; all six of us this time because Becky was babysitting and Louis was working.)

As I drove the few miles to her house, my mental debate continued:  I am the type of person who loves to visit with people – they can drop in any time I’m home as long as they don’t mind the almost constant state of dishevel in my home.  We live in it, and unless you catch it on Saturday in the first hour after deep cleaning or after 9pm on a regular night, my house will have sporadic hair on the floor from shedding people and pets, a few cups loitering on the table and counter, dishes in the sink, clean clothes either in a bucket or half-folded on the couch, books and art materials on the dining room table, and toys that aren’t always in the toy room.  But my family lives in my house.  So if you come unannounced, expect it to look lived-in.  If you show up on a planned visit, it will likely be “company clean” (aka, we just scurried around like frightened chipmunks to make it as presentable as possible considering the time of day).  I reasoned that I would just pop by before unloading everyone and if they were busy, if she was resting (she gets precious little sleep), or they weren’t up for company, we’d just deliver the job-related news and enjoy the drive back home.

She was excited we had come!  (Surprise!  I knew we were sisters!)  We unloaded and spent a few hours chatting, playing, and enjoying each others’ company.  We actually talked about this very thing.  She remembered people dropping by her parents’ home almost every day when she was growing up.  They would bring a pie or dish, join for lunch or supper, and enjoy a visit or the rest of the day together.

I dropped by on Grandma Jeanette at least once a week; I knew her schedule and knew she would enjoy the visit.

But with everyone else I’ve felt like everything has to be planned.  It feels impolite to just drop by and bring a gift or deliver some news in person rather than over the digital airwaves.

God knows our hearts.  He knew I would really go and knew my friend wanted some adult conversation (who am I kidding? so did I), it was part of His plan that we fellowship together and encourage each other.

We, as people, need that.

We, as Christians, need that.

We were not made to live in isolation.  Our overly busy world with unrealistic expectations tried to shove aside our human need for simple fellowship – time spent together without an agenda.  Just quality time invested in each other.  Dropping in and feeling comfortable in each others’ spaces.  This is when we do not judge each other by the state of one another’s home but choose to invest in the state of one another’s hearts.  Yes, most of my events with other people will still likely be planned, but I no longer feel restricted to just planned meetings!

I am so thankful for friends that are my sisters.  (Or sisters who are best friends!)  Those who I don’t feel obligated to race around and worry about what they will think of the shoes that didn’t make it to the shoe shelf or the train track loaded with every rolling vehicle we own running from the playroom down the hallway into the living room or the dishes that someone is currently washing.  I am thankful for the freedom to be me around them.  I love being real.  I love feeling accepted as me.  I enjoy learning from those around me.

Thank you, Jesus, for true friends!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

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