Just thoughts

Thought #1--April 1 & 2 are going to come, FAST...that will be the performance dates for Leah's Jr. High musical, Beauty & the Beast--she was cast as Belle.

 

Thought #2--May 26 is going to come even faster...that's the day that Hannah graduates high school. A lot needs to happen with her decisions about post-high education.

 

Thought #3--Peter is an amazing artist. I am eager to see his completed drawing of a snow tiger. The eyes are already incredible.

 

Thought #4--the Cherokee Playground fund is growing slower that I'd hoped. But we will continue to beat the drum of the cause and the need for new safer equipment for the Mental Health Institute. Monday evening (27th) is a Tip Night at the Sioux Center Pizza Ranch...join us!

 

Thought #5--I really don't care to go to work today, I would rather stay home & enjoy the company of family and friends.

 

There it is. Just thoughts.

Nicole Baart, my friend

http://www.nicolebaart.com/blog/?p=1374

Passion for a Playground

Recent events in our lives have sparked a passion. A passion to make a playground better. A passion that's much bigger than our financial ability. And I can't wait to see how God's going to get 'er done...

Our goal is to raise $25,000 for the purchase of updated playground equipment for one of our state's mental health facilities that serves children and adolescents.

A few newspaper articles have been published about the effort, and there might be a "tip night" at one of the local pizza restaurants at the end of December. But other than that...

God put this passion in our hearts, and God will see it through.

We're just happy to watch. Him. Go.

You Never Let Go by Matt Redman

Early in the morning...

It's early, and I've been up for a while. Never mind that I didn't get much sleep last night, I had to be up.
Breakfast pizza is bubbling away in the oven. When it's ready, I'll package it up in aluminum foil and bring it away to my daughter's Drill Team practice because it is my turn to supply breakfast.

But that's not why I'm writing this. I'm writing to challenge myself. To challenge myself to get out of bed. Early. Because after I'm up, I like it. I like the peace. The solitude for half an hour after Mark has left for work and before Peter & Leah are awake. (Three mornings a week, Hannah is already up & out the door by now.) I have time to have a cup of coffee. And think. And pray. And be grateful.

So even though it is very hard for me to get out of bed early (I typically press my "snooze" button numerous times...), I am going to try.

Because it is good for my soul.

Parenting

It's too late now, but I've decided I don't want to be a parent anymore. It's too hard.
I wonder if God had those feelings. (Okay, I know he didn't, but...) After the rejection, and the mouthiness, and the disrespect, and the disobedience, and the hate directed at him, why didn't he just give up?
Because there are days I want to just give up.
But I can't. Even though there are days I would very much like to.

Being a sheep

So whenever I head south on highway 75 to points like Le Mars or Sioux City or beyond, I go past this farm.
A sheep farm to be exact.
And every time I drive past the place I'm reminded of one time when I saw something funny there.
It was a sheep.
Walking around.
With a bucket on its head.
Like nothing.
Was.
Wrong.
I remember thinking, you stupid sheep, have someone take that bucket off your head and you'll feel so much better. You'll SEE so much better. You'll be able to eat, too.
...
...
...
And then I remembered. Jesus is the Good Shepherd.
For me.
Because I am a sheep.
And more often than not, I walk around with a figurative bucket on my head.
Like
nothing
is
wrong.
And I wonder how often Jesus shakes His head at me and thinks, "Silly sheep, let me get that off for you. You'll feel so much better. You'll SEE so much better. And you'll be able to eat."

It's been a long time since I first saw that sheep wandering around its pen with a bucket on its head like that. But the sight of that farm yard--whether there are sheep in it or not--reminds me to keep my head out of the bucket, or when I do get it in one, to let Jesus remove it so I can live.