A Love Letter

I got a love letter this morning, and it wasn't from my husband! It was from a small Spanish boy in the next checkout lane at Walmart, who recognized me from Junior Church. He found a scrap of paper in his mother's purse and scribbled on it furiously. Before they left, he ran over, hugged me and presented the paper. "It says 'I love you'," he announced, and he ran away.

I came home and cried--but they were happy tears. In a fall of disappointments, a love letter was an unexpected joy today. I know it sounds silly, but it's true. Even the most optimistic blond ding-a-ling has moments where she feels like a failure and a clod. But I got a love letter today and it wasn't from my husband...

In the mailbox recently, there were comical French garden decorations and coconut M&M's. In the phone calls and emails, there were private words of encouragement and affirmation, promise of prayers and funny stories I cannot repeat.

I don't think my husband will complain; we have gotten a few shared love letters recently too. In Junior Church, one was a colorful picture from Christina, and another came in cookie form from Nicholas. There were others too--thoughtful cards and candies, and the beautiful picture on my kitchen wall--all gifts from the sweet people at the Lebanon church, where Gene has been preaching on Sunday nights.

When I start counting up the blessings like that, I realize that God has sent love letters in many wonderful ways this fall. He has used thoughtful people to wrap loving arms around a rather defeated blonde and He sent His love letters in human form.

Yes, I got a love letter today and it wasn't from my husband...

Look for me in a pile of leaves...

Happy fall, remaining readers. The Davis household has been busy, resulting in a much neglected public blog. Our activities have included much work, but also a little fun--including the decoration of oddball pumpkins and a throwing match between myself and a belligerent squirrel armed with ripe persimmons. (Note to self: in the future, do not stand in the yard, talking to a mischievous squirrel and taking aim at him with a garden hose, if neighbors are watching and they cannot see the squirrel--only the blonde who appears to be talking to a tree...)

Baby Nae is no longer staying with us. We miss her immensely, but are so happy that her Momma is able to be at home with her now. A couple of small boys have both mentioned that they would like to trade their brother for her.

Although I was disappointed to lose my baby girl, and also my part-time income, it leaves me with more time to devote to Children's Ministry activities and my 3 favorite guys. I have never been without at least a part-time job since I was 9 or 10 years old and I think God is using this time to help me refocus my priorities and stretch my faith. God is big enough to provide everything we need and He doesn't need my help.

Thursday blessings, friends and family. If anyone needs me, I'll probably be raking...

Woefully Behind...

I have pictures, a funny story about a crazed persimmon throwing squirrel, a plea for help with some ongoing FCA fundraisers, and some heartwarming tales of insatiable reading and pumpkin decorating with the boys. Unfortunately, what I lack is even the tiniest shred of motivation to post them.

However, the baby I've been watching is going to get to stay home with her Momma by the end of the month and my annual time of winter hibernation (aka "I don't wanna be cold") cometh, so if you care, well, stay tuned...

Wacky Words on Wednesday

The favorite husband is swamped with work and with grad school lately. We see him so rarely right now that I have debated the purchase of "Hello, my name is....." stickers for the boys and myself. Yes, he's up to his ears in important projects and GMAT testing and a host of other things...

Meanwhile, back at the house on the hill, I serve as taxi, maid, chef and chief trash taker-outer. It's been a rough month, but in the midst of the madness, several discussions today have blessed my quirky heart. Yes, I know--it really doesn't take much...

The first chat was with a certain third grader, who came home from school announcing that his hair must be washed immediately to remove the tree sap. Yes, tree sap. Never mind that there are no trees on the school playground; he is quite certain it was tree sap. (Oh Lord, PLEASE let it be tree sap...) And how did tree sap get into his hair when the playground lacks a tree upon which to rub one's head? Well, apparently, he was laying on the ground and pretending to be dead. Yeah...

After the removal of "tree sap", a certain preschooler joined me in the kitchen. The firemen visited his school today and taught him ALL about fire safety. I don't know if you were aware of this, but if your house catches on fire, you need to crawl across the floor as fast as you can, and then, when you get outside on the porch, you can get marshmallows and watch the fire. And if I ever "fall down dead on the floor", he is prepared to dial "9-Run-Run" and summon help. (I pause here to ponder that he may not be my greatest ally in an emergency...)

And as dinner baked and I was tidying up the kitchen, a phone call provided the final moment of blessing. It was the stylist from JC Penney, who cut Gene's hair earlier in September. She's new and she just called to ask "how that haircut was going for him". I wish, wish, WISH I could say that I did not laugh while trying to answer, but...

And now it's off to Kids Club, where it is likely that some of the church children will have offerings of verbosity to add to the day. And one of these days, when we're retired from Child Evangelism and live so far away that none of you can reach us, I'm going to write a book of all the things your children have said throughout the years. Some of you may want to consider changing your names and going into hiding...

Blessings on Wednesday, blogger friends...

Count It All Joy

Count it all joy when another birthday rolls around--you could have been pushing up daisies by now.

Count it all joy when you style your birthday hair and find a large and feisty gray piece right in the front--they say it's Nice 'n Easy to fix.

Count it all joy when your husband convinces your Sunday school class that you are, in fact, 41--his birthday's coming...

Count it all joy when you get to make your own birthday dinner--at least the hair you find will be your own.

Count it all joy when your small child throws up in the church bathroom while your husband is on the platform getting ready to preach--at least you made it back there in time.

Count it all joy when the calendar's full, the chore list is long, the body is tired and unexpected bills have crunched your resources--your family is happy and healthy and God has it all under control!

Once Upon a Weekend...

The yard sale was a ridiculous idea. My first clue to that arrived on Friday night, when I realized my tired brain had produced a sign that read "Yare Sare". Yes, even in Frankfort, that's a bit of a stretch, so I fixed it.

My second clue was on Saturday, when the yard sale had NO shoppers for several hours. Eventually, it dawned on my brain that there was not even any traffic outside my home. We learned later that the streets around us had been blocked off for the Breast Cancer Awareness Walk.

But even though we made diddly squat in the way of profit, I was able to clean out and organize several places around the house and the unsold items were hauled to Goodwill Saturday afternoon. Good riddance to them! Unless we move, I'm not planning to have a yard sale again. Ever. Unless we move.

Aside from the laughable yard sale and a migraine bad enough to cause purple fireworks in my vision, the weekend was uneventful. After a summer of busyness, I consider that a blessing...

Vanquishing the Clutter

Although I absolutely DETEST yard sales, I like them marginally better than I like clutter. With this in mind, I let Leah Fulton talk me into having one last yard sale this Saturday. I'm going to be needing that closet space for gift storage, since the Christmas shopping is well underway.

Soooooo if you're interested in clothes, household items, toys, or that big iron candleholder thingie over my bed, stop by the Davis household on Saturday...