Join me for a spot of tea...

Ladybugs. Dots. Spots... I am hoping the blog will undergo some changes in 2011. I'm considering a new look and even some added components.

In the meantime, our family is still basking in the afterglow of a beautiful and memorable Christmas season. I am so thankful for the traditions that make this time of year so special. Most of all, I am thankful for the birth of a saviour. A tiny baby born that our hearts may be worthy of forgiveness and grace, an infant gift that has saved me from my sin and washed me clean of the imperfections that could destroy me. Instead, those pieces of myself are what helps me cling to Him, seeking His will, instead of my own. I love celebrating Christmas, every single aspect of it. I love lit candles in the windows, trees filled with baubles that tell the tales of our lives one fragment of time by one fragment of time. Yes, I even love Santa Claus and the eternal hope that is built when humans look past their own needs to meet the needs of others.

Tea. Once a year, at Christmas, we venture into the city to a lovely hotel that I may never actually stay in to enjoy the warmth and beauty of the season. I LOVE taking my mother, who not only drinks tea daily but still values the sentimental goodness of dressing up and stealing a few hours to just be. At tea. Together.

I love that Hannah had her first exposure to tea this year and LOVED every moment, from slipping on her green velvet dress to plopping at least a million marshmellows into her tiny cup of hot chocolate. I love that we go with timeless friends, the kind that you pray you will be with forever. The friends that you go to when prayer is needed and when oxygen is necessary...and they bring their family, and you recognize the lost art of being with people this way, no stress, no worries, just tea and thee and the Christmas tree. It is by far one of the most Mary moments during a Martha season. I am thankful the Lord grants us those opportunities to relish our relationships, not only with Him but with others who touch our lives and bless our hearts.





Just one of the many traditions that have humbled us this season, I hope to post a bit more about the past few weeks. Thank you, as always for visiting us here. Praying your Christmas was blessed beyond measure.

The Christmas Jar

Driving down the road, not long ago, we passed a casino. Emily read the sign and asked me to define casino. I did. Her response?

Wouldn't it be amazing, Mom, if people took all that change and filled Christmas jars instead? Yep, I'm with you Em.

Two years ago, we began a new tradition. In the days leading up to Christmas, we place a jar on the kitchen counter. Every lick of spare change gets dropped into our jar and we commit to pray for the family God wants to have this extra bit of encouragement. It is a tangible, do-able way for our family to bless another family at the most joyful time of the year.

Last year, God literally showed us a miracle in our Christmas jar.

We had visited the city for the day. Our train was not scheduled to leave for some time, so we sat on a bench at the top of the steps leading to our track. As we sat chatting, Emily asked who would receive our jar. I had a specific family in mind and felt convicted that they were to receive the gift, regardless of the fact I did not know if they "needed" the jar. As we chatted about our prayers and who God had revealed to receive the jar, I watched, stunned as the very family God had laid on my heart came up the steps and walked past us in the station. There was no mistaking our confirmation to bless them. You see, they were not there to take in the sights and sounds of Christmas, they were there because they had no other way to get to the city to visit a family member who had just had a very serious surgery.


Hannah napped on Daddy while we chatted on the bench


Late, late, late Christmas Eve, we pulled up to their home and my kind husband, shimmied up the ice laden drive to leave the jar, with just a bow and warm wishes for God to bless them beyond measure.

We don't share our experience for any sort of accolade; this was not our idea. Somewhere along the line, this beautiful ministry was shared with us and we answered the call. We share it now with you, that others might do the same, pay it forward, extend the body of Christ past our own doorways and driveways.

Go ahead, run out to the recycling bin...I am sure there must be a jar in there! :)

The Value of an Apology

"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness." 1 John 1:9



Our younger daughter was playing. She happily settled at the couch where our cockapoo puppy was blissfully sleeping. Without much warning, in a sweep of her little hand, our daughter shocked the puppy as she pushed her from the couch to make more room. My husband and I looked on in disbelief. Just as grown ups are sinners, desperately in need of the mercy of a loving and forgiving father, so now was our daughter in need of forgiveness from her parents and from her trusted pet, who looked up at her quite surprised by her actions.

A quote from a famous movie says, "Love means never having to say you are sorry." WRONG! Quite the contrary, love means accepting accountability and also offering to one we have offended a verbal demonstration of a heavy heart, burdened by our sin.

To read on, please click here

This Little Piggy...

Blesses my heart...


Makes my heart swell with joy...


Reminds me to think outside the box...


Is a faithful prayer warrior...


Lights up our world!

Blessings from a Friend

"Therefore encourage one another and build each other up..."
1 Thessalonians 5:11



Until I had my first child, I had never experienced the true gift of a homecooked meal.

Delivered.

To my home.

For me.

Just because.

To read on, please click here

You're Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile

"A cheerful look brings joy to the heart and good news refreshes the body." Proverbs 15:30



I remember my very first dance recital. I had just turned eight years old. Dressed in a little black tutu and lace accessories, I tippity tapped onstage to this wonderful song from the musical, "Annie". Many times, over the years, I have found myself thinking back to the words from this tune, "...it's what you wear from ear to ear and not from head to toe, that matters..."

To read the rest of this post, click here

Little Love Notes

Since Em was a very young child, I have written her love notes. When she could not read, I'd draw little pictures. I'd leave them on her nightstand, in her lunch box, in her school bag, in her pencil box at school. She has always loved them.

In fact, when she was in first grade, which proved to be a really challenging year, I wrote her notes on her napkin each and everyday. One morning, she asked me sheepishly to stop. Not wanting to upset her or embarrass her, I did as she requested. Her teacher pulled me into the classroom one day, and asked me to look in her pencil box...there they were, every single one. She didn't have any more room. I figured she threw them away each day, but no, she kept them. Sweet girl.

Em and I are blessed to spend some of our days in the same building. The Lord has granted me a wonderful job that I love. I feel called to serve Him and only God could have orchestrated this position for me. It just so happens, it is at Emily's school. Because of the sensitive nature of materials in and on my desk, I cover it when the school will be used for church functions. Imagine my delight when I pulled the cover off to find this little ditty...



A few days ago, I pulled down the covers to go to bed and noticed Emily's camel Web*kin on my nightstand. Our puppy, Maggie had chewed the tail clear off. Accompanying the maimed camel, was a note..."For you, Mommy to sow. He is my favrite. E " Yet another love note. A joy for me to fix her camel, but it touches my spirit to share this tradition. Whether we share through spoken word, written word or heartfelt word, we share. And I love that.

She is a love note God wrote to me. A daily reminder of his providence and provision. Hannah is just about the age Em was when we began this tradition...I think I will go find a post it...

Not Sure I am Ready...

for all the growing up they are doing!!

Both of our ladybugs have returned to school. Emily is in the third grade and Hannah is a happy Pre-K student! I am so thankful for the way that they are growing. Their teachers this year are lovely. I am going to attempt a little walk down memory lane with our first day of school pictures...


Emily, first day of third grade - September 8, 2010


With her third grade teacher, Mrs. Barnhart


Emily, first day of second grade - September, 2009


Emily, first day of first grade - September, 2008





Hannah, first day of Pre-K, 4 years old - September 14, 2010


Hannah, first day of Three Year Old Class, September, 2009


Hannah, first day of Two Year Old Class, September 2008

"All of life is a constant education." Eleanor Roosevelt

Grains of Sand, Waves of Power

I have been blessed to be a contributor to a Christian blog, Titus 2 In Action. This is such a priviledge for me and I pray that God speaks through me to touch hearts.




"Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen." Ephesians 3:20-21

This has been our mantra this year. Truly, I pray this scripture every single day. Sometimes once a day during my quiet time and sometimes, it is a constant prayer that reminds me, I am not in control. This week, I was reminded in even more tangible ways that I am most definitely not in control.

It is no secret to those who know me that I LOVE the beach. I adore the quiet moments with my children, the joy of doing things in slow motion as opposed to the frenetic pace we keep with jobs and activities. Nowhere on earth do I feel such a sense of calm and oneness with God as I do when I am toe to toe with sand and surf. Regardless of the weather, the beach is my sanctuary.

To read more of this post, you can visit here

Time to bid summer farewell...

"Time is not a commodity, something you pass around like cake. Time is the substance of life. When anyone asks you to give your time, they are really asking for a chunk of your life." Antoinette Bosco



Sigh...

Here it is again. I feel like it was only yesterday the summer loomed hot and long ahead of us. I looked at the calendar, wondering what we would do with all the glorious free time. I dreamed of late mornings sleeping in, cuddling with the ladybugs, trips to the farmers' market, plenty of corn on the cob and friends to go with. Most of those things we actually accomplished, though not as often as I would have liked!

And now, I look behind us, thankful for all the days spent with friends, the fun activities that made this summer special and wondering what ever happened to that free time???

Dare I say that I am slightly (ever so slightly) even looking forward to the schedule of school?

As we sat watching Toy Story 3 this weekend, I actually cried. Ugly cry, people. My mind wandered to a time when my own daughters will outgrow the comfort and giddiness of toys and play things and replace them with lip gloss, pedicures and concerts. I let my head drift to a time when boys will knock on our door and Sunday evenings will incorporate Youth Group and mission planning. I looked down the row and sitting several seats away from me was my eight year old daughter, rapt with attention sporting a sweet American Girl shirt, that will in time, become too childish for our flaming redhead. Alarmed, I realized I had seen the first Toy Story with my nephew, ANDY, who is now 21 and a junior in college. And the core of the movie, hit just a little too close to home!

But it made me really grateful. Grateful for time. Emily went to a birthday party this evening and as we were leaving she thanked me for bringing her to the party. She thanked me! And all I could think was that I thank her for being my child. Many times during the course of this summer, we would be driving to the next scheduled event and I would glance back to see the girls bee bopping about in the back seat and I felt such gratitude for those moments we could share. So, even though I feel my pants size has increased due to the amount of time spent stagnant in the drivers seat of our vehicle, I would not trade the new friends, old friends, fireworks, baseball games, singing lessons, dance camp, mini camp, playgrounds, VBS, missionary training, playdates, science camp, fellowship, and so on!

We still have two short weeks to breathe in the summer air, one of which we plan to spend at the beach.

I pray you have had a good summer and that God has given you and your family peace about returning to the classroom.

See this face?

This is a happy face! And there are so many of these little faces desperately desiring the smile that comes from the security of family and roots.

This child was brought to us through the gift of adoption. Though we do not live constantly reinforcing the fact that Hannah came from China; she knows her story.

We tell it like it is.
She knows this.
Her sister also knows this.

As parents, we have already had difficult conversations that highlight the reality that Hannah came to us through a miracle...a miracle that changed our lives and convicts our hearts to always and forever try to unite other forever families and children.

My dear friend Michelle, is an adoptive mama that has made a difference. She has worked tirelessly on a calendar that will benefit children and families alike. Please visit Michelle, offer your support and pray about all of the children needing and wanting families of their very own.

I am off to order my calendars!! :)

On being married...

Now you will feel no rain, For each of you will be shelter to the other.
Now you will feel no cold, For each of you will be warmth to the other.
Now there is no more loneliness, For each of you will be companion to the other.
Now you are two bodies, But there is one life before you.
Go now to your dwelling place, To enter into the days of your togetherness.
And may your days be good and long upon the earth.
~ Apache Wedding Prayer Blessing




When we were married nine years ago, I asked one of the officiating pastors and a long time friend to incorporate this blessing into our ceremony. He did so gladly.

I thought it was beautiful.

I still do.

And, I assumed that it was an ancient Indian prayer historically connected to the Apache culture.

I was wrong. It is actually linked to a movie associated with the Apache's called Broken Arrow. We live and we learn :)

Marriage is like my experience with the prayer. We go into it thinking one thing and learn that there is so much more to it. Our culture glorifies and celebrates marriage for the celebration itself. However, it often occurs to me on those dark nights when the children are sick, or when critters come a callin', I have Rob to lean on. And he has me. It is the way that God designed.

When our finances look bleak and the house is in disrepair, I look to him. And he looks to me. When we sit at a dance recital or ready for our youngest to head back to preschool, he shares his joy with me and I with him.

And all along, in every circumstance, we do our best to trust it not unto ourselves. Thus we have grown, and we have faith in a God far bigger than any of the dreams we began this marriage with.

Marriage does not mean blissful days filled with total agreement. It just doesn't. There are days where that exists, but not all the time. We were not wired that way. We are called to be unconditional and fortunately, we are designed to be able to accomplish this task. However, we only achieve this only through another committed relationship, that of our intimate relationship with the Lord.

Marriage is an ever-changing, ongoing event. Sometimes, there is silence. And volumes are spoken. Sometimes, there is endless noise. And nothing is accomplished. Sometimes, we bicker, fight, gripe, moan, whine, complain, heavily sigh, challenge, regret, and even forget. We forget the love we began with, we forget the respect necessary for a good marriage, we forget to be unconditional in loving our spouses. And if we are blessed, our spouses forgive us and we forgive them. It is as it was designed. We think it is about us...ultimately, it is about Him.

And sometimes, like today, we do not take for granted the gift that has been given in the union of two people for His purpose, raising some pretty spectacular children. I take this moment to be grateful...for a husband who provides, for a husband who loves me, for a husband who loves our children far more than he could ever love himself, for a husband who loves the Lord and desires to know him better, for all of these things, I am grateful.

Happy Anniversary, Rob. How quickly these nine years have gone...how much I look forward to all the years that will follow...

Have you ever danced in the rain?

I have.

More so since becoming a mother, but the following is when it all started...

Years ago, I was blessed with the responsibility of directing the youth ministries of my home church. It was a job that I fought tooth and nail against, hoping to remain in the safe cocoon of support ministries and not the actual, ahem, "leader"! But alas, God won, and there I was staring down the barrel of activities galore with oodles of youth ages 12 and up. I remember our very first meeting when there were probably fifteen children in attendance and I swear that evening I actually heard the crickets chirp as I giddily tried to enthuse those 15 warm bodies that sat staring and waiting for my grand plan. Blink...blink...blink...chirp!

Being young helped. My zest for life helped. My faith and perserverance helped. But, I think what really drew kids in was my total and complete committment to whatever interested them. I was there. I made my way to football games, swim meets, dance recitals, marathons, spelling bees, you name it, I was there. Over the fence, in the bleachers, in the audience, I was there. I prayed for these kids encouraged them, and before long fifteen kids would turn into 150. I wanted them to know that God loved them so much, that He would send a servant to be there for them, no matter what. I wanted them to know that it was all about Him and had absolutely NOTHING to do with us. I wanted their first response when a team member was injured to kneel and pray...I wanted their sportsmanship to be apparent regardless of the situation, I wanted their parents to know, they were not in this alone, that together, we would raise these children up as God had intended.

I was not a parent. I was young and sadly enough, newly single as a troubled marriage unwound. This ministry became glue that would hold me together as I weathered personal storms that could have broken my spirit. God knew. He knew what I would need just as much as He knew what the children would need, and so we had FUN! Lots of it, camps, zip lines, ski trips, low ropes, high ropes, devotionals, fellowship, progressive dinners, rafting, retreats and every now and again the joyful, undignified dance in the rain...the list is long and beautifully filled with memories that prayerfully remain not only with me but with each child I was blessed to know.

I was an advocate for youth, insisting on youth services (led and designed by the youth groups) and all of those children attended church on Sunday morning, marching in usually a tad bit late, but nonetheless sitting in the sanctuary, listening to sermons we would discuss later, and taking notes on scripture that I prayed would become indispensible to everyday of their lives. It was during one such Sunday, that I was scheduled to give the message and I asked them all "to dance". The Leanne Womack phenomenon was in full swing and "I Hope You Dance" was on every station from here to California. Certain words to the song resonated deep within my heart to reveal truth that God wants us to live boldly in Him, to experience life in it's fullness, and to never take for granted the gift He gave. In many ways, my role with those youth has helped prepare me for motherhood.

So, it stands to reason as stormy skies swept in this week, I did not hesitate as my own girls approached me and asked excitedly..."Can we dance in the rain?"

Of course...only if Mommy can come with you :)

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." Romans 15:13

SURPRISE!

"No one has ever seen this, and no one has ever heard about it. No one has ever imagined what God has prepared for those who love him." 1 Corinthians 2:9


A surprised Emily on her eighth birthday this past spring


Yes, I am still here. It is interesting how the newest trend can impact the biggest part of one's life. I used to carefully, with great anticipation, create posts worthy of the sweet readers that visit our blog. I'd choose scripture and photos, I'd proofread and proofread again. Our blog began as a means by which to share our life, as we added a new family member through the gift of adoption. It is no secret, I adored blogging. But, I would ask myself many times...at what price am I blogging?

The past year, I began to work more, sometimes full time. Blogging...well, there was no time for that. If I was going to have quiet time with the Lord or facebook or singularly host the laundry list of other daily activities that demanded my attention, how on earth would I blog? Well, that is a really good question, because this year, for the first time in three years, I was presented with a new issue, where is all the time going? My children would say, "You are on the computer too much." My husband would concur and even my parents have made mention of my less than healthy computer mania that diverts my thoughts and splinters precious time.

As much as ceasing to blog may solve one problem, it would create another...the truth is, I LOVE to write. I especially love to write when the thoughts will be provoking, insightful and perhaps even make someone think or act when they otherwise may not have. I think God has equipped me to gently minister to the hearts of others through writing. Written word is powerful. In some ways, though shocking in our technological mecca, we have lost the art of effective communication. We email a friend, rather than speaking voice to voice, we type out sketchy text messages to thank a girlfriend for the wonderful gift she left on our doorstep, long gone are the gliding handstrokes of a penned letter to an aunt, a sister, a friend. Well, not completely. But I am guilty of sometimes travelling the heavily trodden road, instead of trusting my instinct that insists an eloquently written note would be far better than my lesser efforts.

I will continue to post entries here, though I must admit, I feel convicted to share more than just a personal family history here. I feel like this is a good place to deposit some of the wisdom imparted on me through the Truth I love more dearly than writing, blogging or even taking and posting pictures. Sure, my family will still appear here, but it is important I note, now that Emily is older, sometimes she will specifically say, "This is private Mommy, please do not share this." I honor that. I honor her heart and the privacy that is our children's, even if it means I need to re-write something I love. I love her more.

I chose the title, "Surprise" very specifically. Recently, my parents' pastor was relocated to a new church. We do not attend their church as members, we are merely visitors because we have a home church. Yet, everytime we attended the four years he was there, not one time did he ever miss an opportunity to invite us back and make us feel welcomed. On Easter Sunday, his sermon was entitled, "Surprise!" With great animation, he discussed the "surprise factor" of Easter. The joy....the sheer miracle of a surprise as grand as Christ rising from the dead. If I could convey via blog post the energy and joy, I most certainly would, but I can not. There is something I can do, in Pastor Sunil's honor...I can make you feel welcome here. I can invite you back. I can let you know, you are not a visitor, you are a friend, whether you have been here once or fifty times, I value you and your comments.

So, though it may be a surprise that I am back and ready to post again, it is not a surprise that God has big plans. As much as we relish in the surprise of His resurrection, we must also relish each surprise of everyday...the small ones and the large ones...the ones we know about and those yet to be revealed.

Did you have a surprise today? I would love to know about it.

Where the Sidewalk Ends...

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends. Shel Silverstein

I love soft spring nights. Emily and I have begun to walk at night again. I love the company. We talk about everything; school, friends, time, when she was a baby, prayer. She joyfully holds my hand and confesses things I did not know. She will break free every now and again and run ahead. Red hair flying in the breeze, bruised knees leading her. She smiles her big, warm smile and says kind things to neighbors who are out tending their yards.

Tonight, she ran ahead and then stopped quickly. She waited and when I got to her she asked sweetly if we could go to the very end of the street, "where the sidewalk ends". And though she was asking literally, figuratively, I am so glad when we go where there is no path and create a new one. I love to adventure with her. The years are numbered for the childlike wonder that now blesses our days. God's design was so perfect to permit such a time as this, to jump from the hard, unchanging cement of the sidewalk to explore the soft yielding grass and flowers that await where the sidewalk ends. I feel like God does this with my heart; requesting that I soften and expose that He might create a new path, and adventure with me.

Emily will be turning eight next week...how thankful I am for a time such as this.

Rooted

"To be rooted is perhaps the most important and least recognized need of the human soul." ~ Simone Weil

So, Hannah and I were walking the other day.

Holding hands.

Smiling, actually laughing a bit.

And I innocently say to her, "You are my beautiful little ladybug."

To which she replies, "And you, mama are my daisy."

Speaks volumes, doesn't it?

"...so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith — that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God." Ephesians 3:17-19

A Blessed Easter to All

"He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: 'He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.' Now I have told you."

So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them. "Greetings," he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, "Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me." Matthew 28:6-10



Easter is by far my most favorite holiday. Representing newness in every fashion, I am ever mindful of the sacrifice of Jesus and the assurances that His promises are for real! I am thankful, so very thankful. Our family wishes you and your family a blessed and beautiful holiday. May the remembrance of Christ's sacrifice and miracle bring you boundless joy and freedom this day...

GOTCHA!

The civil affairs building was crowded and warm inside. Mommies and daddies nervously paced, rubbed their hands together, craned their necks, straining to see that first glimpse of their newest family member.



And there she was. Jim was on the phone with me. I could hear the muffled sounds of voices, voices speaking quickly. Mandarin. Translators. Jim was speaking in short choppy sentences, "Ooh, they are coming over. Oh, wait, well I see her. She is beautiful. She looks okay, content." Like balm to a wound, Jim's words helped soothe my mommy's heart. I was not there. My husband graciously, bravely awaited our daughter being handed to him. He was nervous, very nervous. Yet, he rose to the occasion. Big time.

Friends kindly yelled into the phone describing the scene...I certainly felt like I was there. Hannah's nanny had trouble letting go...I would have too. I mean, she's Hannah. Our Hannah.

Fever-stricken and frightened, Hannah rallied, daring to trust the two American men.

And those men rocked the house, caring for a sick baby girl. Loving on her, feeding her, cleaning her, getting those first smiles, giggles, belly laughs. They'd bounce Cheerios on her tray, praying she would learn to put them in her mouth. They stood her up and played peek a boo. And Hannah began to trust.



Fast forward. Yes, fast is the operative word..it has gone so quickly. Three years have passed and Hannah daily surprises us, amazes us, reels us in. She is wise and wild, shy and sure of what she wants, funny and fun to be around, bold and louder than the loudest sound in the room. She has learned how to love and be loved.




Something happens when a child enters our world. A heart that once was worn on the inside takes a new home and plants itself firmly on the outside, revealing the transparency that transcends all other things, the love of parenthood.

Happy Gotcha Day Hannah Leigh, we are so very thankful God chose us to be your family forever and ever.

Black and White Wednesday

Taken last summer when we joined friends for a day of fruit and vegetable picking at a local orchard, it is one of my all-time favorite pictures of Hannah. The day was rather windy and I turned to catch her running across the field. Oh how I am looking forward to days like these after the long, cold winter!

Black and White Wednesday

Before I begin today's post, a huge shout out to my friend, Sharon! Sharon is celebrating a birthday on this most greenest of days :) I love her heart for the Lord, her amazing sense of humor, her wildly compassionate spirit, her abundant joy in giving, her sense of discipleship among people and her true gift for hospitality. Sharon, may you have many more blessed birthdays. I am so thankful for your friendship.





I have not yet participated in Lisa's Black and White Wednesday, but as the sun was shining and spring felt on the verge of emerging, I felt inspired. Last year around this time, we went on our annual Adoption Reunion. Our family LOVES this weekend. We will be travelling soon to reunite with our adoption family yet again.



As our group left each other, fulfilled from time well-spent, our family decided we wanted to make a little side trip on the way home. We stopped in Hershey, PA for an unexpected day of plain old family fun. This picture is in front of our tour bus. The old fashioned buses have that vintage appeal and though the picture has no true glorious properties to it, I just liked it. The "conductor" placed his hat on Em's head just as I was about to snap the picture and both girls were blissfully happy that day with the surprise of going somewhere to frolic, rather than just returning straight home.

You can go here to see the many Black and White Wednesday masterpieces others have to share! Lisa posted today on when she and Pat were engaged. If you haven't met Lisa, she is a real lady. Talented beyond belief and a testimony to touch the hardest of hearts, she is a friend and a mentor.

Happy Wednesday!