Hearing Heart Blog

My goodness! My 18 yr. old daughter says my posts are too long! Doesn't she realize that after years of raising "all those kids", that I need to s t r e t c h my brain to even communicate in complete sentences again? My daughter-in-law in Florida notes that there's room for improvement, too. I know I've been writing essays. Excuse me, but I don't know who's going to read my efforts. I feel that I have a lot of explaining to do, and I'm still learning what BLOG means, anyway! (excuses, excuses...) Maybe I'll get shorter with practice. I don't mean to fill the web-ways with unnecessary language, but maybe I can tip a balance somehow -towards the positive, remarkable, wonderful stuff of life. Speaking of which, I hope to point your eyes towards Dorcas Smucker's blog, Life in the Shoe. I put her link at the bottom of my page - check her out! Also, I want to throw this out there: why did I head my blog with words about listening to

Confession time again! I'm 51, and I'm a dancer. I didn't grow out of it. In the early days if my high school years I discovered the Jesus Movement of the '70's - and was amazed that God would enjoy the rock 'n roll beat from the young worshipers. What a refreshing sound! I remember looking up to the ceiling during worship sometimes, and asking Him, “Is this okay?” Another look in the book of Psalms, and I’d have to say, “YES!” I haven’t stopped appreciating the old hymns. In fact, my appreciation for every genre of music is unequalled by most everyone I’ve talked to about it. I can hoe-down with the Cowboy Church. I can stand appreciatively with chants from the 1600’s. I can clap on the “wrong” beat with the best of them. And I can put on my old 2nd Chapter of Acts album, just like I did in 1972, and dance to the “Easter Song” with all my heart. I can only think of one kind of music that’s hard for me to connect to, and that’s the screaming stuff.

I need help. I came so close to clicking on the button - you know, those internet "opportunities" that just look so good! A remarkable job opportunity that will make me rich!!!! I know better. I've been praying and researching and asking questions for three months now...all to find the door-knob that will open the "new life" door for me. I've asked myself about my motives. Am I worried that I have to prove my worth? There aren't children in my home (very often, anyway), and I spent the young adult years of my life being a stay-at-home mom. I have no regrets about it, believe me, but now that the children are grown I'm grasping for something just as meaningful to give my life to. Am I in too much of a hurry? We’re doing okay financially. We have a home, clothes and food. I’ve come far enough along these last few weeks to say that I do want more. I’ve even asked the Lord to make me rich. Now, THAT’S a departure from the path I chose as a yout

In honor of Erika and Anthony May 14, 2007 I want to talk with you about my kind of math. I've become convinced over the years that I do not stand alone in my aversion to numbers. So, I can freely say, I don't like them. Do they affect you like they affect me? They trick me. I don't understand them. They make me nervous. They've humiliated me, again and again, especially in junior high math class! When I take care of my family's budget, I have to compute the columns of numbers over and over - to find my mistakes. There are always mistakes! But I don't quit until it all makes sense...it just takes time. Now, words and I get along just fine! I'd much rather talk about how words and I relate. One of the quirkiest things about me is how I spot typos without trying. It's a knee-jerk reaction to me. The credits at the end of the movie scroll by, and I can see that they've misspelled "catering", or "Monaco". I have to put

In the church I grew up in, there was a way to ask for prayer without giving any details in public. Have you heard of it? We called it an "unspoken request". I'd always thought that sounded like a cop-out. It seemed to me that the same people raised their hand every week, and I was sure they must never pray with words because their prayers were " unspoken "! At least, that's the way I understood it. It also seemed to me that it was just a way to get attention. But that doesn't make sense, because if they had wanted the attention, wouldn't they have taken the floor and filled our ears with words for hours on end? I dreaded that - the pews were solid hardwood! I guess that as a child, I was sure everyone's motives were the same as mine! uh-hem! (that's a clearing the throat sound that my family uses to mean,"too true"). Another guess was that something extremely horrible had happened in their lives, or they were concerned about

I'm Grandma Kathy, Mom, foster Mom, and wife for 29 years to one of the best men God created! Sorry, everyone else! He currently works in Landscape Construction. My three sons have wonderful wives, and have given me a grandchild each. My daughter graduated from Home School and is now in college. There are some long gray streaks in my curly brown hair now, and changes don't stop coming! We've labeled this time in our lives "reverse puberty"! You may not want to hear the word "menopause", or "mid-life crisis", but that's what I'm talking about! Changes rarely seem to come easily, even when they're anticipated... but, come, they will. With the kids grown and the foster children re-located, I'm stretching my wings to learn about the internet and doing business on eBay. What an exciting thing to open up the world's door and see what's there - like never before in history! I'm not blind, though; I see the ugly and dark thi