~full and free~

My father died of a brain tumor when I was still in the womb. Since Jesus took him my mother has raised my six siblings and myself on her own. She even made the descision to educate us almost completely at home. I will never forget an occasion when she had taken a job as a waitress. I was still young and didn't like it one bit. After only a few days of work she quit and came home to me. Yes at times I've wanted my father--wanted him like you wouldn't believe. But how could I be so ungrateful for long, when God has blessed me with such a fantastic mother? This is for her.

She's here, she's there
It seems to me she's everywhere.
She's picking up toys,
She's feeding little boys.
Even though she's tied all through,
She still has a hug for you.
Her love is full and free,
For my brothers, my sisters, and me.
~~~
Sometimes things are rough,
Even through sickness she's tough
For there's meals to be laid
And there's beds to be made.
Play is hard for some kids--
Sleep is falling on heavy eyelids.
Her love is full and free,
For my brothers, my sisters, and me.
~~~
We're grown, some have gone away.
She hopes that some are here to stay.
No one will ever know how long
She's prayed that we would keep from wrong.
All alone she raised us, but did she?
I think there was help--from the Trinity.
Always her love is full and free,
For my brothers, my sisters, and me.

Some cherished ones

Here's me sister and me niece for your enjoyment! By the way, its Anna and Kylee. Just thought I had better clarify that. 

Blogs: leanings and meanings

It is precisely six months yesterday since I began this blog, and in view of that fact I believe it is time for a little evaluation—an overview of what this blog has been and continues to be to me. It started as a new and exciting undertaking. It has turned into a learning experience.

It may seem a bit strange and perhaps even a little self-centered to some, but one of my main struggles is simply to understand myself. Have you ever felt the torment of having started a new friendship and being terrified that the person in question will somehow “find you out” and will shun you because you were found lacking? My comfort is that God knows me inside out—and loves me anyway. But people aren’t always so unconditional, and I have felt the pain (however imaginary it may be) of failure and rejection. I suppose the less time spent stewing about such things the better.

I was talking about self-discovery. Who am I really? Is what I write really and truly a manifestation of the real me? And is it really that important to search out one’s self? But forgive me, my eloquence is becoming not so very eloquent.

Another of my interests is to understand others. All these people around me, my family, my friends—even my fellow bloggers. I seek to understand what makes them tick so to speak. What causes their actions and reactions, their emotions, their values? What is important to each individual? To become acquainted with this myriad of characters, and hearts is not un-useful to such a predominantly intuitive person such as I. I am concerned that I will offend, will be the cause of grief or discomfort, and so I work to know how I may avoid such blunders. I don’t know if you would call this a science or an art form, but it certainly is somewhere along those lines.

But too much ado about my interests. This blog has provided a means of self-discovery, and others-discovery in a very nice manner, and I can only hope that my ramblings will have really meant something and not have been just a bunch of words on a page somewhere in cyber-space.

Correction...

Oops! The link for "Feminine Frills" was going to the old address--sorry about that folks. It is now corrected, and I invite all to visit and see the changes that have been made(improvements I hope).

Grace I don't think I misspelled anything...but then my eyes may be playing tricks on me--I'm becoming so terribly old and decrepit you know! =)

Have a lovely day!

We're in business!

Ladies and gentlemen, may I turn your attention to the links on my sidebar, and more to the point, the particular link named, "Feminine Frills". This is the team blog which I have started in association with my dear friend Erin. We would be glad of a visit from you periodically!

Jenna and Sara--I have a bone to pick with you!!! You know what I'm talking about. =)

Immortality of lake, cabin, and fire-side

Recently written by a friend (thank you again, its lovely!), this epistle describes the sojourning of Kat and her fellow adventurers. Other summarizations of the proceedings can be found with Mark, Kristi, and Drea.

The Chronicles of Nothing Else...

There's nothing else like seeing your clothes and your friends' sprinkled with tiny yellow constellations of dandelion pollen because of a flower tossing war.

There's nothing else like punting through sunken forests of mossy trees with new spring buds, with four friends in a sturdy enough little boat and pushing off marshy goose nests, just to see what's around the next corner.

There's nothing else like the delicious spooky chill you get from being out in the same boat, shiver-cold water lapping at your feet, playing a flashlight through tricky fog, trying to figure out if the human figure about twenty yards to your left is alive or not.

There's nothing else like the voice of a friend quiet in the dark, telling a story about ancient faraway people who fully lived.

There's nothing else like the shreiks of a friend who can't stand crawly things suddenly discovering that the previously well-contained crawdads on the picnic table have miraculously achieved their liberty and are beating a hasty retreat under her chair.

There's nothing else like lying in your sleeping bag and knowing that if you start singing something, anything, even Brahams's Lullaby, someone will join in harmony, and it will be beautiful, even if you mess up the words.

There's nothing else like coming in off the lake at ten-thirty in the morning, having been through the gates of Narnia and back, knowing that you have the entire rest of the day ahead of you, to a full breakfast with sausages cooked over the open fire pit.

-a timeline-

"Things that were..."

I am a dreamer. Truly I am in the fullest sense of the word. But it is such a lovely word is it not? I have been dreaming all my life long (which hasn't been so very many moons). I have also been wishing for with great impatience the time when I may at last make dreams realities. Now what would you call this? A juvenile discontent for present blessings? Or simply the restless wandering of a spirit ever in need of change and new discoveries? I always see the wonders of what could be, the glory of what has been--but fail to cherish what is sufficiently enough. I am sad to say that this is my life story--my disposition is fixed and I am blind to the wonders and discoveries of today. But this situation is not hopeless. As I grow perhaps I am learning that all the wonders of past and future at one time were contained in "today".

"...things that are..."

Now I stand in the open portal of the adult world, listening transfixed to the voices of that world calling me to join them. Join them in striving, in joy, in sorrow, in pain, in glory. And suddenly as the things I had hoped for are finally coming to pass, I long to hide my face like a child in a mother's embrace and stop the clocks for one immortal moment. For it seems such a great and awesome responsibility to me--to live and work as a subject of the King and be about His business. But I remind myself to wake from my dreams of yesterday and move forward with the future in my eye, on the ever present path of today.

"...and some things which have not yet come to pass."

What is in store? And what does my future hold for me? Has not every person living in this world pondered that question? This reflection certainly isn't unprecedented. I fear that I sound like a freckle-faced, romantic school girl--alas, this is what I am. Some part of my immediate future has been revealed to me. If God wills, I am traveling to spend the summer in New York with my sister and brother-in-law, Ben and Sarah (I love you guys!). This means aproximately two months of my life devoted exclusively to my East coast family. You must imagine my excitement! I am to go and take care of my neice and nephew, and generaly help out in any way I can--in exchange for my passage east and a salary per week. Can you imagine that?! I am going to be payed to do what is my dearest delight! I can't decide if someone handed me the moon or sewed me some wings. Think of it--just two months from now, I'll be on my way. What terrible glory this is! I feel so very timid--and blessed.

Now you must be thinking that I am making too much noise over one brief summer in the history of the world. But I am determined to make this trip live up to its fullest potential. I want to grow and to learn and to serve with all of my might. And that with the help of our Lord, most esteemed ladies and gentlemen is what I intend to do! Excelsior--onward and upward!

Fred the brave and true

I would like to say at the outset of this post that the only reason that I discovered Fred in the first place was to entertain a six-year-old child with similar fantasies. It worked. Now I seek to entertain you.

Fred is my friend. He has brown hair like me, he is short like me, and the only difference between the two of us is that his eyes are a warm shade of brown (not to mention the difference in gender). Fred is at my side constantly and has strong opinions on many aspects of my daily life. I like to think of him as my twin brother--you see I couldn't get away from him even if I wanted to, and nor could he, seeing as we're connected at the hip.

When I first became aware of Fred's existence, he was greatly persecuted by a good friend of mine, who quite frankly should have known better. Poor Fred, to have been ignored for the first seventeen years of his life, and then having at last emerged from obscurity, only to be scoffed at by such a person. But enough said on that subject, I have since forgiven this good friend of mine because she has provided a companion for my dear Fred. Yes, she at last surrendered to the truth--her good sense has finally triumphed over her synicism and Fred has met his bosom friend...Timmy.

Timmy is connected to my friend at the hip and therefore, he and Fred have become "kindred spirits" so to speak. But that is neither here nor there--I must tell my story, or should I say, Fred's. Fred loves sushi, algebra, hockey, buz cuts (which I absolutely will not allow), thinks that Tennyson and Shakespeare stink, and generally hates all my loves, and loves all my hates. But then, what are little bros for? Nevertheless, he is extreemly loyal and very attached to me (no pun intended) his devoted and loving twin. This is a very natural feeling for him to have seeing as he owes his very existance to my extreemly well cultivated imagination.

And now at last I get down to the wire. Yes, I must aknowledge that Fred exists chiefly in my own curious mind. I say chiefly because I know a very cute little six-year-old girl who has unshakable faith in Fred. And now you may return to your daily activities knowing for a fact what you have suspected all along--that Rebekah the blogger is just a little dotty.

I must apologize if this post is a trifle immature. You see in the face of many unhappy and sometimes disturbing events occuring in our world today, I find relief and great enjoyment by escaping to a wonderful world of make-believe. It is a lovely world of creativity and imagination. And I wouldn't part with it for any amount of common sense. I hope you have enjoyed this brief journey with me. Come again!