My Grandma Carmichael turned 80 years young on December 30th. Basically, she is a young whippersnapper compared to Eric's surviving grandparents and my other grandmas. Because it is her birthday, I would like to point out the tremendous impact she has had in my life.
First of all, Grandma is the person who sat with me in her pastor's office as he led me in the Sinner's Prayer, inviting Jesus to be my Lord and Savior, which happened when I was twelve. She was there becuase she, along with Grandpa Carmichael, introduced me to living a life for God: they prayed before every meal, they had devotionals in the morning and any conversation on any topic would, invariably, lead us back to the question of "What does the Bible say about it?". It wasn't because they were "Bible thumpers," hammering anyone at any opportunity. They lived for God and considered the Bible as a reference manual for all decision making and all opinion making, so it naturally showed up in conversations. It was quite a different way of thinking of things, yet it somehow made sense. I have to say that the ten minutes I spent in the pastor's office, with Grandma joyfully watching, has had the biggest impact of my life. Without God, I wouldn't have the life I have now and I would not be the person I am today.
She is also a testament to how to make it through tough times. She grew up during The Great Depression, she suffered through a bad first marriage and endured criticism for divorcing her first husband, even though she was biblically justified. She saw her only son do self destructive things and was only able see me, her only grand-daughter a few times during my life as a result of her son's divorce. Her faith in God never wavered during her trials and she is still quite a prayer warrior, encouraging me to do the same.
Lately, I have also seen how she pulls herself out of pity party when she starts to think about all the "might have beens", "if onlys", and "I'm all alone nows" by focusing on how God has blessed her with a wonderful second marriage to a godly man who truly loved her son, a wonderful family who has helped her through tough times, and good friends who make sure she is still alive and well. She has been a widow five years now and is starting to slow down, just a bit.
She also taught me how to lose at card games, mainly by making me experience it so often :-).
Thanks, Grandma C. for all the blessings you have given me!
January 1, 2009
December 28, 2008
Cookie time
One thing I remember from my childhood is that Christmas means cookies--at least seven or eight different kinds. Sometimes we gave a bunch away, sometimes we had cookies until Valentine's Day. Regardless of how many or how few cookies were made, invariably, two weeks or so before Christmas, my mom started making cookies and didn't stop until Christmas. I also try to make a lot of cookies with the purpose of giving most of them away as gifts so that we only have a week's worth left over at Christmas time. This year, I asked my dh and kids what cookies they wanted for Christmas. Our list this year was star spritz, Christmas tree spritz, toffee bars, gingerbread cutout cookies, sugar cookies and homemade caramels. Yesterday, thanks to a friend and her daughters, we finished decorating all the cutout cookies. I have been sampling them and I realize that I much prefer the spicy goodness of gingerbread over the bland sweetness of sugar cookies. In my effort to become more blog-proficient, I decided to try to post a poll to see what cookie everyone else prefers. The poll closes January 4th.
December 27, 2008
Tribute to my mom
Today, I was involved in praying for a woman who had just lost her mom rather unexpectedly, even though her mom was at an advanced age. While we were praying, she confessed that she had always looked down on her mother because her mother hadn't seemed to accomplish anything "important" in her life. However, at the funeral, based on all the compliments people gave her about how her mom had helped them, she realized that her mother had chosen "the most excellent way" and that she had a quietly helped people without trying to get the glory for helping them. I echoed her confession and realized that, for too long, I have also not given my mom the praise that is due her.
My mom has demonstrated that even though hugs can't solve the problem, they make you feel good enough to face the problem. At one place where she worked, she was known as "the hug lady" and it was meant as a compliment. She may not be able to solve word problems, but she has an intuitive or maybe an emotional intelligence that allows her to solve life problems. She has a sunny smile and is quick to laugh and quick to cry. I always knew where I stood with her because she either is unable to hide her feelings or unwilling.
Above all, my mom has a servant's heart. Now that might not sound glamorous or glorious, but I know that in Jesus' eyes, the One who came down 2000+ years ago to serve mankind, that is high praise indeed. Being a servant is much more than just putting others needs above your own. It sometimes means shutting your mouth when you want to defend yourself. It means letting others take the spotlight when you have done the work. In her case, it also means picking a husband on the basis of how good a father he will be to her daughter as well as how he treats her. She isn't necessarily the perfect servant, but she is perfectly wonderful.
Proverbs 31: 25-29 describes her well:
She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:
"Many women do noble things,
but you surpass them all."
Thanks to my blessed mom! I love you.
My mom has demonstrated that even though hugs can't solve the problem, they make you feel good enough to face the problem. At one place where she worked, she was known as "the hug lady" and it was meant as a compliment. She may not be able to solve word problems, but she has an intuitive or maybe an emotional intelligence that allows her to solve life problems. She has a sunny smile and is quick to laugh and quick to cry. I always knew where I stood with her because she either is unable to hide her feelings or unwilling.
Above all, my mom has a servant's heart. Now that might not sound glamorous or glorious, but I know that in Jesus' eyes, the One who came down 2000+ years ago to serve mankind, that is high praise indeed. Being a servant is much more than just putting others needs above your own. It sometimes means shutting your mouth when you want to defend yourself. It means letting others take the spotlight when you have done the work. In her case, it also means picking a husband on the basis of how good a father he will be to her daughter as well as how he treats her. She isn't necessarily the perfect servant, but she is perfectly wonderful.
Proverbs 31: 25-29 describes her well:
She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:
"Many women do noble things,
but you surpass them all."
Thanks to my blessed mom! I love you.
December 26, 2008
Christmas pictures
Because our extended families live so far away, I thought I would post pictures of our Christmas. Our Christmas tradition involves everyone getting dressed before coming downstairs to see what Santa delivered in their stocking. The story goes that when Elizabeth was born, Santa asked us what type of presents we wanted him to give to the kids. We told him that filling the stockings was enough. We wanted to be the ones to give the really cool gifts. Then we made sure the kids got big enough stockings. Thanks Nana Lambert and Grandma Sue for providing stockings that only Paul Bunyan would be able to wear. At this point, bread for sticky buns in in the process of rising. The kids aren't hungry anyway. They are too preoccupied with figuring out what Santa gave them.
This year, we took turns opening presents for six rounds, letting a different person go first each time. All the kids took turns passing out presents too. It was nice being able to ooh and aahhh over each gift. While each child was waiting for someone else to unwrap their presents, some of them got creative. Isn't she lovely? BTW, can you tell what she likes best next to gymnastics and dressing up?
It was a Lego Christmas this year, with each child getting at least one Lego. Interestingly enough, four or five adults (including Santa) were involved in choosing different lego kits for each child and we didn't have one duplicate! Thank you, God! Of course, now our basement floor is littered with little lego pieces. This afternoon, the kids ran out of space and started putting together a big lego set in front of the stairs before my dh and I made them move the 10,000 pieces to another area. It will take weeks to pick up the basement again.
The kids were excited to get rocket kits from Grandma and Grandpa K. We started rocketry last summer, after Daddy got a rocket kit for Christmas. We had successfully launched and retrieved his rocket four or five times until he decided that he wanted more power! He bought bigger rockets and instantaneously lost his rocket and Elizabeth's brand new gold rocket.
After roughly eight years of waiting, Daddy got what he really wanted for Christmas--a train set to put up under the Christmas tree. When our oldest was a baby, he talked about getting a set. At the time, I reminded him that between the baby and the cat, the train wouldn't last long. The cat is long gone and we finally do not have a baby around at Christmas. So the kids and I pooled our resources to get him a train kit. I wrapped each component separately, so he would be able to unwrap several presents, instead of just one or two.
These are some new ornaments we got for our tree. Nana bought an ornament for each person in our family and Grandma K. cross stitched an ornament and finished it (the big square one). I put them all together so that we could take one picture showing them off. Grandma K has more ornaments stashed away somewhere until she has the time to finish them. We love new ornaments.
What a MESS! We spent the rest of the day putting together legos, napping, eating and watching a movie or two. It was a complete and total day of rest. Beds were not even made. However, the next day, we decided to spend fifteen minutes or so picking up until...
...it looked like this again! The basement, however, is still littered with legos, as it will be until all lego kits have been totally assembled.
Merry Christmas everyone. We missed seeing you! We love you.
December 25, 2008
Another tribute--My Two Dads
My apologies...
Okay, I missed writing yesterday. Please forgive me. I was a little busy getting ready for some holiday celebrating the birth of a baby who would grow up to die ignomiously on a cross after spending three years teaching with authority and doing miracle after miracle after miracle which all testified to the fact that he was, indeed the Son of God. The really good news, which I will talk about at another time, is that he didn't stay dead. It wasn't that he was "mostly dead" and was revived by Miracle Max to live happily ever after with Mary Magdelene. He was really truly, all dead. But that story will have to wait.
Moving on...
In the late 1980's, there was a TV sitcom series that ran for three years called "My Two Dads" starring a future has-been, Greg Evigan, formerly of "BJ and the Bear" fame and a future star, Paul Reisner, who would become the leading man in the sitcom "Mad About You." The basic plot is that a mother of a tween dies and leaves her in the custody of two men, either of which, could have been the father (because, apparently, paternity tests weren't available until sometime in the 1990's?). So this girl moves in with two total strangers, who haven't shown enough maturity at this point to take care of pets or maintain a long term relationship. Sounds funny doesn't it? (written with extreme sarcasm). This is NOT my story. My mom has been married twice. I was the product of her first marriage, which ended in divorce when I was still a baby. She re-married when I was four.
My first dad, Dennis, was a remarkable guy, though I really didn't know he existed until I was nine (my oldest daughter's age). How I found out about him is a funny story that will have to wait. My mom moved 1800 miles away from him when she initiated the divorce, which meant that he couldn't really visit me very often, if at all. He has admitted to me many times that he was in a very messed up state, even before the divorce, and he only got worse. And yet, in spite of his brokenness, he was able to do a very generous, self-sacrificing act of chivalry: he gave up his rights as my father so that I could be raised by one man, without divided loyalties wreaking havoc on my emotional stability. That single act of sacrifice has had a huge contribution to the person I am today.
My second dad, Bill, married my mom after a whirlwind courtship. However, he chose to adopt me as his own daughter. He didn't have to adopt me, but he did. And he was able to adopt me because my birth father. The court date to finalize my adoption happened on my fifth birthday. He is the one whom I have called "daddy" or "dad" ever since. Because he raised me, of course, he has had a tremendous influence in my life. You experience his influence every time you read phrases from me such as "die ignomiously". He always told me that using big words properly was a mark of intelligence. Unfortunately, these days, it might make me more unintelligible (hard to understand). He also has high standards of workmanship which translated into high expectations in any task I was assigned, whether it was schoolwork, housework or any project.
Dennis and Bill, thank you for your influence! Merry Christmas with much love,
Kris
Okay, I missed writing yesterday. Please forgive me. I was a little busy getting ready for some holiday celebrating the birth of a baby who would grow up to die ignomiously on a cross after spending three years teaching with authority and doing miracle after miracle after miracle which all testified to the fact that he was, indeed the Son of God. The really good news, which I will talk about at another time, is that he didn't stay dead. It wasn't that he was "mostly dead" and was revived by Miracle Max to live happily ever after with Mary Magdelene. He was really truly, all dead. But that story will have to wait.
Moving on...
In the late 1980's, there was a TV sitcom series that ran for three years called "My Two Dads" starring a future has-been, Greg Evigan, formerly of "BJ and the Bear" fame and a future star, Paul Reisner, who would become the leading man in the sitcom "Mad About You." The basic plot is that a mother of a tween dies and leaves her in the custody of two men, either of which, could have been the father (because, apparently, paternity tests weren't available until sometime in the 1990's?). So this girl moves in with two total strangers, who haven't shown enough maturity at this point to take care of pets or maintain a long term relationship. Sounds funny doesn't it? (written with extreme sarcasm). This is NOT my story. My mom has been married twice. I was the product of her first marriage, which ended in divorce when I was still a baby. She re-married when I was four.
My first dad, Dennis, was a remarkable guy, though I really didn't know he existed until I was nine (my oldest daughter's age). How I found out about him is a funny story that will have to wait. My mom moved 1800 miles away from him when she initiated the divorce, which meant that he couldn't really visit me very often, if at all. He has admitted to me many times that he was in a very messed up state, even before the divorce, and he only got worse. And yet, in spite of his brokenness, he was able to do a very generous, self-sacrificing act of chivalry: he gave up his rights as my father so that I could be raised by one man, without divided loyalties wreaking havoc on my emotional stability. That single act of sacrifice has had a huge contribution to the person I am today.
My second dad, Bill, married my mom after a whirlwind courtship. However, he chose to adopt me as his own daughter. He didn't have to adopt me, but he did. And he was able to adopt me because my birth father. The court date to finalize my adoption happened on my fifth birthday. He is the one whom I have called "daddy" or "dad" ever since. Because he raised me, of course, he has had a tremendous influence in my life. You experience his influence every time you read phrases from me such as "die ignomiously". He always told me that using big words properly was a mark of intelligence. Unfortunately, these days, it might make me more unintelligible (hard to understand). He also has high standards of workmanship which translated into high expectations in any task I was assigned, whether it was schoolwork, housework or any project.
Dennis and Bill, thank you for your influence! Merry Christmas with much love,
Kris
December 23, 2008
New beginnings--tributes
I am ending this year and starting the new year with random tributes to the various people in my life who, I believe, are making a positive contribution in my life. I am doing this because I don't want to save it for their funeral. I am not writing in order of importance, just as my mind latches onto something. I will try to do one a day, but there are no guarantees. Such is the life of a random thinker. Deal with it and remember my dear husband has to deal with it on a daily basis.
For my first tribute, I would like to thank Kathy Overtoom, my step-mother-in-law, for giving me a new "inner voice". This afternoon, as I was looking at the decorated green blobs on the cookie sheet that should have been crisply baked and crisply outlined spritz Christmas trees, I had two "tracks" playing in my head: one saying "you doofus, can't you count how much flour you put in?" and the other, Kathy's track, which says "Oh well!" I chose her track and added my own variation, "They will probably taste fine anyway and most people who will receive them will know what they are supposed to be anyway because they get these cookies from us every year."
In the past, I would have been very upset, berating myself, and getting ready to make another batch of "perfect" spritz Christmas trees to give to friends, keeping the other 150 or so cookies for my family to eat. But because of this new "inner voice", I can still enjoy the holiday and move on to making star spritz cookies.
Thank you, Kathy! And Merry Christmas!
With much love,
Kris
For my first tribute, I would like to thank Kathy Overtoom, my step-mother-in-law, for giving me a new "inner voice". This afternoon, as I was looking at the decorated green blobs on the cookie sheet that should have been crisply baked and crisply outlined spritz Christmas trees, I had two "tracks" playing in my head: one saying "you doofus, can't you count how much flour you put in?" and the other, Kathy's track, which says "Oh well!" I chose her track and added my own variation, "They will probably taste fine anyway and most people who will receive them will know what they are supposed to be anyway because they get these cookies from us every year."
In the past, I would have been very upset, berating myself, and getting ready to make another batch of "perfect" spritz Christmas trees to give to friends, keeping the other 150 or so cookies for my family to eat. But because of this new "inner voice", I can still enjoy the holiday and move on to making star spritz cookies.
Thank you, Kathy! And Merry Christmas!
With much love,
Kris
December 22, 2008
Breaking News...
John is potty training and he is doing a great job! We started last week, when he started getting a rash from eating something that his body did not like. We are suspecting that he might be developing lactose intolerance, which is a condition his brother developed at three also. The first day we started, he had a couple accidents. At this point, he has not had a liquid accident for three days and today, he found that he could put his solid waste into the potty without a problem. I am hoping that the rest of the potty training experience will be as much of a dream as the first week. I think it helps that he has five people cheering him on every time he goes potty. The other kids are also hoping it will take a short time because as soon as he is completely potty trained, we will be getting a dog as a pet. Way to go John!
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