What mom's not proud of her talented kids? Here's the promised pictures from Noelle's choir performance last weekend.


My new phone has a camcorder in it, but my brain has cobwebs in it, so I failed to whip out my handy-dandy technology when the beautiful music was being made. So, it looks like you'll just have to use your imagination.
They sang in English and Latin this time, and my favorite piece was by Bach called Go Out With Joy, a fitting benediction.

And this is a short video production Adrian put together with excerpts from one of Mike's Sunday morning sermons. God's word is powerful enough alone, but when images and music are added, boy, does it shake your bones.

I hope your Lord's Day was filled with songs of worship, a life-changing sermon, and talented kids.

My friend Lindsay asked me to be a guest author for The Journey. She's reading through the bible and writing devotions to go with each day's reading. If you'd like to make the journey with her, you can get there from here.


Joshua 7-11: Taking the Land

From Genesis to Joshua we see throughout Israel’s story that God does not tolerate unbelief and disobedience. God gives Israel clear instructions for how to take each city and directs them regarding how to handle the people and the plunder. Achan’s flesh gets the best of him, and he hides his disobedience by burying it.

What a perfectly human way to deal with our own guilt – hide it, stuff it down deep, hope nobody notices. Pretend it isn’t there and maybe it will magically disappear. We falsely believe that ignoring it and postponing it will bring relief. Israel could not have victory until the sin was dealt with, and neither can we.

But don’t you just love the sweet mercy of the Lord? Sin exposed and punished, God promptly returns to his agenda of provision and blessing for Israel, as if the sin episode were thrown into the sea of forgetfulness. That makes me yearn for true relief. Confessing to the Almighty isn’t quite so scary knowing He longs to be on good terms with me as much as I do with him.

In chapter nine Israel goofs up again. This is sin I can relate to. Over the years I’ve become fairly well-acquainted with God’s commands, but there are still times I stumble into what seem to be harmless circumstances that aren’t screaming for me to pray about. When we fail to bring everything to the Lord in prayer, asking for His wisdom and counsel on the matter, we often end up inadvertently compromising our devotion to the Lord. Even after He warned Israel not to enter into covenants with others, God, in his infinite grace, defends his covenant partner, even as they learn the hard way that friendship with the world is enmity toward God.

Ultimately, Joshua conquers all the land because, firstly, they did as God commanded and, secondly, because the Lord fought for Israel. He tells them repeatedly throughout the long, hard-fought battle, “Do not fear; be strong and courageous.”

God gave me this very promise to let the Lord fight for me when our family, like Israel, faced a long, hard-fought battle. My husband Mike lay in the hospital with kidney and liver failure and an irregular heartbeat caused by all the physical stress. Lymphoma had invaded God’s temple-territory from his esophagus to his groin, threatening every vital organ. Our battle was cancer, what’s yours?

As Mike hovered between life and death, God asked me, “Do you love me more than these?” I was afraid God might be preparing me for Mike’s death, but more afraid not to respond with belief and trust in my covenant partner to fight for me, as He promised He would. We looked at the crazy things God had Israel do to take the cities of the promised land as our model. We did crazy things like introduce poison into Mike’s body by way of chemotherapy and bone marrow transplant, risking death, as Israel did to fight their battle. What crazy thing is God asking you to do in faith?

Ultimately, God wins the victory when we bring our sin before Him, obey his commands, fear not, are strong and courageous, put our lives on the line, and let God fight for us. Are you ready to take back God’s territory in your life? God awaits us with mercy and forgiveness in one hand and a conquering sword in the other so that we, too, can experience the land of His promise. Let’s not allow sin, fear, doubt or a long, hard-fought battle keep us from it.

Photo Friday - "Pleasure"
Sunbathing at Riverbanks Zoo, Columbia, South Carolina

Last weekend I had the privilege of chaperoning Noelle's choir mini-tour. Before I could get in the door of the church, I found, perhaps, the largest church cemetery I've ever seen. And it lived up to it's first impression - the place was amazing. Too bad my pictures don't do it justice.

Stone fences are not typical in South Carolina, and it didn't look that old, but it enclosed the entire place and was beautiful. The crosses clearly aren't original, but added to the charm.

The brick building beyond was erected in the mid 1800s as an academy. It was apparently the place to send your child for an education in all of the state. It graces the national registry of historic buildings, and was built to replace an older building that burned down when a chemistry experiment went awry. We couldn't see inside, but the church has maintained it, and still uses it today.

And the graves were simply amazing. Is this old, or what? Some were so disintegrated we couldn't read them, but this one has a clear birth date of February 12, 1838. The oldest was marked with a plaque and the death date was late 1700s. I'm not sure what the mini headstone was, but there were many graves that looked just like this. Way too many to be deaths from childbirth. And speaking of children, there were so many buried here, reminding me that much crueler times were not so long ago.

This marker placed by the NSDAR (National Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution) tells all the world that James Gallant (circa 1727-1807) was a patriot for contributing to the American Revolution by providing beef. There were a few other graves marked as soldiers of the American Revolution and many from the Civil War. Sadly, I didn't get a clear shot of their distinctive markers.

Beyond the cemetery was a wooded area that housed this lonely fireplace and fallen chimney. I imagine this was at the back of what used to be a house because about 50 feet ahead of it was a stray daffodil or two, which were probably once the front garden. No telling what era this came from.

What an amazing trip through historic, sacred ground. I almost forgot about the choir. More on them tomorrow.

A lot about parenting feels like groping in the darkness. I usually have a gut instinct about what to do, but often feel inadequate to the task - short on confidence, wisdom, and patience. But this weekend, the Lord has seen fit to give me a few clues that we're groping in the right direction. It's always a good thing when God confirms you're on the right track.

Noelle spent the weekend with her children's choir on mini-tour to sing for a church that was celebrating their 225th anniversary. There are a lot of homeschool families involved that I've not had the privilege of spending time with before. Being around some of these families inspires me to stay at it with homeschooling. I like what I saw as I looked around, and Noelle had the opportunity to broaden some friendships, which she really needs in her life.

While we were gone, Adrian and his father had the opportunity to witness to one of Adrian's neighborhood friends, and he began playing full-time in our church's praise band. Even now as I write this, he's writing a precious love song to the Lord on his guitar.

And just a few minutes ago, before we left our very short Sunday afternoon to return to church for the Hispanic service, Reagan told a friend on the phone that she couldn't play because we were leaving for church. After a silence which meant her friend was talking again, I heard her say, "But I want to go to church. The man who is preaching is my friend, and I want to hear him," telling me my daughter would rather go to church than play with her friend.

So, even though my homeschooling leaves a lot to be desired, my kids watch far too much Disney channel and can't seem to figure out where to put their dirty dishes (ever), it's nice that the Lord drops a signpost as a landmark for me as we try to navigate in the dark. It reminds me that God works beyond our flaws and errors and sees our hearts' desire to rear children who will be bold voices for the Lord is a generation that needs Him more than, perhaps, any other that has come before.

Every now and then we get the chance to see their young hearts for the Lord on perfect display, and it makes my heart sing. I'm really not bragging on my kids nor our parenting skills. In fact this is so noteworthy only because it's such a rarity. Rather, I boast in the Lord for reassuring me that we are on the right path, that faith is often groping in the darkness, and trusting Him for success when I often see only my failures.

My kids are such beautiful gifts on loan from God, to borrow a Rush Limbaugh phrase, that it would be so hard to top that. But God's reassuring signposts along the way tell me that He is so generous, He just doesn't know when to quit. In fact, He pours out his blessing until my cup runneth over.

Photo Friday - "Children"
I love how little my little ones used to be.

Mom tells me that, in my back story, our next door neighbor asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, and I told her, "an author." Apparently I've wanted to be a writer not since I can remember, but LONGER than I can remember. Mrs. Lee thought it very odd that a six-year-old would have such aspirations instead of nurse, teacher or some other usual answers. I guess I've always loved words and stories and reading. The thing is, I'm a terrible storyteller.

So now I'm reading something lighter with less literary element - or so I thought. I've picked up The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton. The story is lighter, but the method of telling is getting very complex.

Cassandra is a woman who's trying to figure out the mystery of her grandmother's origins because the grandmother dies before she could figure it all out herself. Meanwhile, we're flashing back to the grandmother's childhood to learn all that she had known, and we are also flashing back to the grandmother's grandmother's childhood. What is that-five generations? The complexity brings interest and needed depth to the story.

I'm also beginning to notice the beautiful writing. If I were this story's teller, Chapter Seventeen would open like this:

Cassandra reached England, and the sights and sounds overwhelmed her senses.

But Morton opens the chapter with this stunning bit:

Cassandra had known the buses would be red, of course, and double-decked, but to see them trundling by with destinations like Kensington High Street and Piccadilly Circus above their front windows was nonetheless startling. Like being droppped into a storybook from her childhood, or one of the many films she'd watched where black beetle-nosed taxis scurried down cobbled lanes, Edwardian terraces stood to attention on wide streets and the north wind stretched thin clouds across a low sky.

What a stupendous paragraph! (And what a geek I am! I'm actually excited about good writing.) Are you even still reading? Well, good, because there's more.

In the back story of the back story, the grandmother's grandmother had a childhood twin who dies in a horse accident and the author tells of the little girl's adjustment to his being gone from her life like this:

In the daytime, it was as if the world had been turned inside out, like a garment on the line. All was the same shape, size and color, but utterly wrong nonetheless.

Simply amazing.

In describing how she deals with her grief, she goes on to say,

Then she folded his memory as gently as she could, wrapped it in layers of emotion-joy, love, commitment-for which she no longer had need, and locked the whole deep inside her. Being empty of such memories and emotions felt right somehow. For with Sammy's death Eliza was half a person. Like a room robbed of candlelight, her soul was cold, dark and empty.

Can I just say, "WOW!" here? I don't know if this author has lost a sibling way too young in life, but I have, and these sentiments are spot-on, the imagery haunting, and the sorrowful tone sheer perfection.

How do writers do this? They craft their words so eloquently and string together ideas and imagery that seem pulled from randomness, but make beautiful, brilliant sense. The result is effortless, natural, and perfectly flawless wordsmithing. I'm jealous.

A few months ago we decided to put our oldest back in public school. He's a much happier kid for it, and I'm grateful to be just Mom again, rather than his teacher for everything plus Mom. Sometimes less is more.

So the teachers have some time they can plan together as a team each week, the kiddos get to come two whole hours later!! I have been introduced to Late Start Wednesdays. BRILLIANT! Why have I never thought of this?

Wednesday is the perfect day for me to do the same with our homeschool because it's one of only two days each week that I can devote entirely to homeschooling. We sleep later, start later, finish later. (Adrian still finishes at the same time, but sshhhhh, don't tell the girls - they haven't figured out yet they're being shortchanged.) And it's so worth it.

It's like chocolate for breakfast. A massage after overtime. It's like slipping into fresh sheets. Or a warmed towel after a shower. Taking off the high-heels you've worn for 16 hours straight. Just makes you want to say, "Aaahhhhhh!"

Now the hump in my hump-day makes me think of the little pillow lump under my well-rested head. Late Start is like a weekday makeover. A day that competed with Mondays for the BLUUGH award, is totally transformed into something that now runs a close second to Fridays around here (in the Weekday category, mind you. Weekends are still in a league of their own.)

Can you say coffee and computer for fun at 9:30 in the morning? What's not to love? Wednesdays are definitely my newest guilty pleasure.

Remember Armpits from almost a month ago about a crisis situation I was facing? Well, just to refresh your memory, my original response was to pray, and pray hard. I wound up with a few questions about my prayer's intensity and purpose, and also God's propensity to listen and reply. At the time, He spoke to my heart telling me to draw near to his side while he stretched forth his hand for my victory.

Well, fast-forward a few weeks and I've got ants in my pants. I'm havin' a little trouble staying put, 'cause I don't do still too well. Guess that's why God's got me practicing that one. The situation remains unresolved, and I'm chompin' at the bit to help God out here.

Today in worship we sang a song that spoke to this unresolved issue. So, as I sang, I prayed for God's glory and peace. The next song was about being used of God. My prayer shifted to asking the Lord to use me to bring comfort and encouragement, to meet the need, enthusiastically declaring I was His handmaid, offering to be used of Him. In fact, fervently asking.

Right about then, God zings me with a doosey of an answer. Well, actually his answer was a question. It went a little like this:

God: (Softly and lovingly) I see your great willingness to be my servant in this situation, your fervent-prayer-situation. Why is your willingness conditional? Everyone's situation is of concern to Me. Do you not have the same willingness to serve Me in another circumstance? Someone else's crisis?

Dawn: (falling to her knees with arms lifted high to her Lord) You know me, Lord, and my selfish ways. You are infinitely more loving, more able to do everything needed in every circumstance across the land. Mine is no less, but nor is it any greater, than the needs of others. I avail myself to You, to go where You send me, to speak any word, to do Your bidding in any situation You choose. Without limit, I am your handmaid, without condition. Use me, send me, as You have your way in every circumstance, hear every fervent prayer, and answer always with your infinite love. Amen.

Did God speak to you today in a way that makes you more like Him? That always makes for a great day. Even if it is a little humbling.

Photo Friday - Nightlife
At 10 and 12, they still insist on sleeping together...we should have bought a double bed.

I got wind of this little gem through my Books-a-Million newsletter. Boy, the fun I could have doing this. I am the mac-daddy of listmakers. I have lists of lists. I don't think I could live life without making lists. It borders on obsessive-compulsive. Come to think of it, I may need therapy...the kind that this book could give.

Listography: Your life in lists
List-makers rejoice! This quirky and imaginative guided journal is the ultimate tool for creating a unique autobiography entirely in list form. Some lists are obvious (greatest accomplishments, best friends, favorite food), others obscure (guiltiest pleasures, greatest acts of kindness, personal fashion trends), and each list is accompanied by hilarious illustrations. Listography is perfect for getting down all the details of a life less ordinary.

My mouth is watering, my mind is reeling, it's like a sugar rush....you may want to plan an intervention.

I just finished reading Someone Knows My Name by Lawrence Hill. It's an historical novel about an African girl who's abducted and sold into slavery on the coast of South Carolina before the Revolutionary War. Several of the issues this book touches were very profound for me.

Aminata picks up English quickly and learns Gullah, as well as two African languages beside her own. Her ability to communicate in so many languages becomes an asset that eventually saves her life.

I'm married into a bi-lingual family, and over the last twenty-something years of authentic exposure to Spanish, I'm sad to say I've learned very little. I understand more than I can speak, and what little I do know I call "Sanctified Spanish" because I know church and bible words, and hymns. The rest of the developed world speak more than one language. Why America doesn't value this educationally, I don't know. We are not the richer for it.

Aminata learns to read, another skill-set that serves her well as a slave in early America. People who didn't possess the ability to read and write were so exposed back then. It gave me a renewed sense of gratitude for being literate. I've always been a reader and a writer - I even majored in English. Reading and writing have brought me much pleasure over my lifetime.

I once heard someone define wealthy as being able to read, owning a book, and having read it. The true poor spend every daylight hour surviving. Education, discretionary money, and leisure time are luxuries afforded only the wealthy.

Aminata was determined from the beginning of her real-life nightmare to return to her village one day. Her determination keeps her from accepting any of the places she lived in the meantime as home. In the 40 plus years before she's able to go back, she lives in South Carolina, New York, Nova Scotia and Sierra Leone. It turns out that the old identity she'd been clinging to has been erased by time. She learns that she doesn't really belong anywhere or identify with any people group. She didn't allow herself to be molded by or accepting of the things that came into her life. I'm not saying that being enslaved isn't horrific, but difficulties, tragedies, and unfair things come into every life. If they are accepted, the past doesn't rob us of our future. We simply cannot go back, and the world forges onward whether we like it or not. I'd never really thought about it in quite those terms before.

Aminata gains her freedom along the way and, of course, is revolted by slavery. But she often finds herself in positions that, although free, she's unable to do anything about the plight of other slaves. Her convictions, although black and white in her mind, became very gray in reality.

At one point she is the guest of the second in command of the slavers' staging and shipping point on the African coast. While her host is conversing with another about England's King George, she wanders to the window and sees the slave pen below, the very pen that once held her naked scared self as a captured girl long ago. She says this:

I hated myself for doing nothing to help the captives escape their wretched confines. I tried to tell myself I was powerless to free them, but in truth, the mere sight of them made me feel complicit and guilty. The only moral course of action was to lay down my life to stop the theft of men. But how exactly could I lay down my life, and what, in the end, would it stop at all?

The age-old ethical dilemma of how to best serve the cause. She chose to help William Wilberforce persuade parliament to end the slave trade. But in doing so, she had to turn a blind eye to the circumstances of individual slaves. It's quite a conflict.

This book is meticulously researched, beautifully written, and I enjoyed the story and all the ideals it made me grapple with. One of the many reasons I love books.

I often wear many hats at one time, but playing hostess and photographer at the same time was too much. My pictures were few and poor. But the time we had was perfect and grand.

We did feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland with about 40 women and girls stuffed into my boxy home. My house kept shrinking and shrinking!

Best manners and pinkies were proudly on display,

as well as every piece of silver I own.

I even bought a pretty little teapot with bumblebees, ladybugs, and flowers on it. The artsy picture I tried to take is pretty lame, though.

And make no mistake - we pigged out. We just put little things on little plates, but it didn't make the calories any smaller, nor our tushes when those calories get comfy and settle in...


We had an eclectic collection of cups and saucers (say that 3 times fast)

and a little lesson on what a good hostess is and does. The bible taught us that when we show hospitality we may wind up entertaining angels or Jesus himself, show off our holiness (even though we're not supposed to show off), and just might save a life like Abigail did.

Not too bad for a first try. Why don't you join us next time? It's high time you had tea!

Well, it's finally here. It all began last summer when Mike and I were doing some marriage enrichment with our married couples at church. We were teaching proper roles in marriage and found ourselves deviating into women's roles in the church. We studied both arguments, for and against women teaching, discussed at length what we were learning, and both concluded that the scripture teaches that women are not to teach men. Well, I was flabbergasted. I'd been teaching men in my Sunday School class for 15 years!

When you're the pastor and his wife, you don't always get to learn your lessons privately. I became paralyzed. Self-conscious of saying anything in a formal setting where men were present that they might learn something from what I said - even as a (now new) student in our Sunday school class. I couldn't even discuss it with Mike without erupting into tears. It was going to take some time to get used to this new thing.

As summer turned to fall, I found myself planning the women's ministry for 2010. I still hadn't been able to shake Titus 2:3-5 and the clear instruction for older women to teach younger women to love their husbands and children and be keepers of the home. We were to do this lest we dishonor God's word. [Gasp] Look it up - it's in there.

I wasn't even sure what this looked like, but I certainly knew that LionsHeart was NOT doing it. [Gasp again] On second thought, had I ever been a part of a church ministry for women and girls that did this?



I started asking the Lord questions like:
"What makes women unique?"
"What is wonderful and beautiful about being a woman?"
"Am I different from the guys?"
"Am I ok with these answers?"

I realized that ok is the wrong answer. I needed to reclaim biblical womanhood. It's MORE than ok to be a girl - it's marvelous to be a girl! I needed to celebrate and embrace who and what and how God made us: altogether fierce and fragile.

I knew I wanted every female from the cradle to the grave. That way almost everyone can be older and younger at the same time. I wanted a feminine setting, a girly place to talk about doing girl things - and God things - like being a mom, taking care of babies and homes and friends and daddies and husbands. Being good hostesses and gracious guests. Learning poise, elegance, and grace - both social and spiritual.

The Seasonal All Girls Tea Parties was born. We'll teach the girls how to feed babies while we glean wisdom from our grandmothers around a beautiful dainty table with tea and tiny everything.

So here we are, the day before, and all three of us hostesses are anticipating. One of us is rolling her eyes reluctantly, one is eager with anticipation, and the other is feeling much better about being a girl than she did last summer.

Photo Fiday - "Cleanliness"
Getting ready for tomororrow's tea party

One of our family's favorite dinners is Fiesta Chicken Empanada. I like to cook when I have the time, but I hate the pressure of getting something scumptious on the table like clockwork every evening, no matter what the day held. I always do better when I have a plan. And this one's planned quite often because even my Picky Eater (Don't worry, Noelle, I didn't mention your name) is happy with this plate in front of her. Here's how you do it...

Shop for:
Rolled Refridgerated Pie Crust
Onion
Red, Green, Yellow Bell Peppers
Chicken breast (canned or cooked by you)
fajita seasoning packet
Cheese and salsa dip
egg

Let the crust soften on the counter while you rough chop the peppers and onion. Put veggies in a skillet with a tablespoon of olive oil and saute until crisp tender. Add 4 tablespoons of fajita seasoning and chopped chicken.

Place bottom crust on an ungreased cookie sheet - I like to use my pizza stone. Add the chicken and veggies on top leaving a 1 inch edge around the crust. Pour 1/2 cup of the dip over the chicken and veggies. Brush the edge of the crust with water and add the top crust. Press to seal the edges. You can use a fork to put a cute edge around the outside, but I was ready to eat.


Brush the top with one beaten egg. Bake at 425 for 20 - 25 minutes. Set your table and make a side salad.


Garnish with salsa and sour cream. Reclaim your kitchen table and let the magic happen. Bon Apetite!

Abigail over at 32nd Street is hosting a blog parade. It sounded like fun, so here I go!

1. What's your favorite time of the day, and why?
Morning - hands down. I'm the only morning person in my family, and I get the whole place to myself - my quiet times are actually quiet! It's downhill from there though; comatose by 10pm.

2. If health wasn't an issue, what food could you live off of?
Cuban coffee - cafe con leche. Delicioso. One amazing thing I've learned from the culture I married into is that there's nothing better than Cuban food, except the coffee of course. I have to make Cuban coffee for the American and American coffee for the Cuban. It's a little confusing, but soooo worth it.




3. If you could have one wish granted (besides wishing for more wishes), what would it be?It's a tie. I really, really, REALLY need two. Please?? I would wish my brother hadn't died in that car accidednt and that my husband didn't have cancer - in no particular order.

4. What's one thing that you get teased about a lot?
Correcting my family's grammar and using big words. I've been called Dictionary Dawn more than once. My mother and father corrected our grammar growing up, so I feel compelled to carry on the tradition, and my kids hate it as much as I used to. I wholeheartedly hope that when they are grown, they will do the honors for their kids, too.

5. If you could choose one movie, book, or TV show to spend your life in, which would you pick? What type of character would you be?Who doesn't love Enchanted?

I'm a true sucker for a sweet, sappy love story and happily every efter, but I'd be the one trying to escape fairyland and get to real life.

6. If you could have one talent that you don't already have, what would it be? Playing the piano. I took lessons for about 3 years, and can play enough to know that I'd really enjoy it if I knew what I was doing.

7.If money were no object, where would you go on vacation?
Everywhere, see the whole world. All history and culture. No amusement parks allowed, which means I'd probably have to go without my kids. [Frown]

8. If you were an awesome singer, which genre would you sing?
Opera - it's beautiful, emotional and happens before a live audience as opposed to a recording studio. If you can sing opera, you can sing anything. My father-in-law was an opera singer. He could belt out "How Great Thou Art" like nobody's business.

9. If you could have a $10,000 shopping spree to one store, what would it be?Steinmart - I never shop - I'm a cheapskate - but I can always find something in there...on second thought, I don't think I'm aiming high enough here....

10. If you could live in any point in time, when would it be?
Creation, before the Fall. I would love to see God's original idea of fellowship with man and walk with Him in the cool of the day. Can you imagine what that would be like?!

11. If every outfit in your wardrobe had to be one color, what would it be?
It would be boring, that's what....but if I had to pick, I'd say black. It's classic.

12. If you were one of the seven dwarves, which one would you be?
(Doc, Grumpy, Sneezy, Sleepy, Bashful, Happy, or Dopey)
Dopey - my husband says I'm smart, but I have no common sense. And if I had any sense I'd agree with him.

13. What's the last album you listened to?
Martina McBride's Greatest Hits, singing in the car at the top of my lungs. Alone, of course. I try not to torture loved ones, only my kids every now and then.

14. What's something we'd be surprised to know about you?
I love roofing - I did it once on a mission trip and had a ball. Being up so high on a roof was a little scary at first. I don't like heights. But popping chalk lines and swinging a hammer with that apron full of nails made me feel like a pioneer woman.