Monday, October 29, 2012

Look Up!


Here is a picture of my little, two-year old.

I had been busy taking pictures of my brother-in-law and his new, precious wife when I heard my little one calling, "Mommy" I looked down and saw THAT delicious face!
(I had to take a picture of her before putting my camera down and scooping her up into my arms).

I love that she knew that no matter how busy I had become she could come to me, call mommy, put up her one little arm, and know that I would stop everything and pick her up, comfort her and kiss her. Her confidence in my love for her impresses me. There is nothing that is more important to me than my family and she knows it. As much as I enjoy taking pictures, or whatever it is that I am busy doing, she can always come to me, call mommy, and know that I will pick her up and love on her.

How could I ever refuse her? LOOK at that child. You can see a yearning in her eyes for me and for me to hold her. Why would I ever reject her? 

When I took that picture it was simply to take a picture of her sweet face, but when I see this picture now I think of how we must appear to God. He looks down and sees us looking up to Him with that same face and look in our eyes. How much He loves us and how much He gave everything up to reach down and hold us. Jesus will never refuse us. He will never say, "I'm too busy, come back later." He looks at the one He created, His child, and is moved with compassion and love.

That is the 'God' side of this picture-now for the 'us' side of this picture. As my daughter is holding onto her treasures in one arm she is left with only one other arm to stretch up toward me. We are much the same toward God, aren't we?  We are holding all the things that mean the world to us in one arm and with the other arm we hold it up to Him.

With all the different trials I have gone through the most important lesson I have learned is to surrender all. I mean it, surrender all things to Him. All the things that you are holding on to so tightly, lay them down at His feet and then with two outstretched arms raise them to the Lord. I was homeless and had to lay down ever having a home again, reach up to God and allow Him to shelter me. He did. I loved my parents and sisters, but had to lay them down and reach up to God for family. He gave me a new family. I have wanted to be a published children's book author so very badly I could taste it at times, but I have had to put it down and rest knowing Jesus' timing is not my timing. I have looked up to heaven with two outstretched arms and have found contentment in knowing that I can trust His plan. I even held onto my church so tightly, but I have had to lay it down at His feet and look toward heaven and stretch up to God.

Laying down the things I love hurts more than I can say. The ache is great. The sadness is deep. But the healing comes. The joy returns. My faith is deeper in the One I love most and my two arms are free to reach up to heaven and receive all that Jesus would have for me. I will say that my journey with Jesus has been true of 2 Corinthians 4:8-9: "We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." You may think me crazy, but I am now grateful for all the 'pressing', and 'crushing,' 'persecution' and 'striking down.'  Without it I would still have one arm filled with things that God did not have for me. Things that were actually causing more harm to me than good-that I couldn't see. Without it I would have eyes only for the things that bring me pleasure or comfort, but not for the things that only Jesus knows that would fill my heart with true peace. 

I think of what Abraham endured and thank God that the testing of his faith will never be asked of me. To be asked to sacrifice his son, and to be obedient to that calling, would be too much for me to bear. Yes, I have gone through trials, and like Abraham, my faith in God has only grown deeper. Then I think of God's sacrifice. He sacrificed His one and only Son for all of us. He gave His most beloved possession so His two arms could be outstretched to us. I will never be able to out sacrifice God, I'm glad I won't have to. So with the things I am asked to let go I gladly give it- to have more of Him.

"He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose." Jim Elliot


Monday, October 22, 2012

Where's Jesus?

My eight year old son and I were in his room on the floor looking at and organizing alllll his Playmobil toys. As we came across a figure we separated them and put them into either the knights, pirates, Indians, cowboys or civil war piles. It was fun talking and looking at all the toys. As we were sitting there my three year old boy walked in and plopped himself down. He started looking at the array of little men. I watched him studying them all. He didn't say a word for a few minutes, but finally asked,

"Where's Jesus?"

I said, "Honey, we don't have a Playmobil Jesus character."
He asked, "Will you buy me a Jesus man for Christmas?"
I said, "Well, I don't think they make a Jesus figure."
He said, "Oh" with a very sad voice.
I then said, "How about we look through all these guys and find one that you think looks most like Jesus and play with him?"
"OKAY!" he shouted.

So, I,  (you gotta know me), showed him a pirate, a mean looking Viking, and all sorts of furrow-browed guys just see what he would say.

To all of them he said, "Mommy, that's not Jesus-Jesus is nice."

Finally, he found one that made him happy.


He played with "Jesus" for the longest time. He found Playmobil fish, bread, pineapples, and other food. He set up a table, plates, and cups. I listened to him playing. Jesus was feeding all the people. Jesus was telling everyone, "Come, I have food for you."

I was so touched as I secretly watched him play. He took such care at setting up the table with all the food. He gently called to the the Playmobil characters to come for food. It was amazing to me to see him reenact the story of the "Loaves and Fish."

At the end of my day there were two things that have stayed with me from watching my little three year old's play time with 'Jesus.' I was reminded that when I don't see Jesus in a situation I should ask, "Where's Jesus?" I shouldn't assume He's not there-He is! Look for Him until you find Him. My son couldn't see Jesus, but he looked for Him until he did. I need to find Jesus in everything I do. Jesus is with us and among us and wants us to know Him. The second thing I learned and am carrying in my heart is that Jesus cares for us. Jesus meets our needs. He says, "Come, I have food for you."  He says, "I know your needs before you ask and am prepared to meet them. Do not be discouraged, I have not abandoned you-I am here." Jesus is so gentle, just like the way my son was playing. (I wish I recorded it). As my son played Jesus, Jesus was sweet and kind and caring. It was a good reminder to me. Life and people can be so harsh, but it is good to know that God is not.

Amazing isn't it? The love and understanding a little child has of Jesus. I really needed that-Thank you Jesus for relieving yourself through my son. I love you too!



My Sister is Moving

It was a Wednesday night when my husband called me and gave me the news that we had been anxiously waiting for- "He got the job." I honestly couldn't believe it. I got off the phone and cried. I just sat there and cried and cried. Every time I thought I could get up and move on, a memory would flash in my mind and the tears would come streaming down again. My sister's husband got a job out of state and they will be moving far away. I have eight years of memories...when will I stop crying?

She wasn't always a sister-we started out as just friends. I'll never forget the day we met. It had been a few weeks since I delivered my twins, the doorbell rang, and in she walked with her hubby, son, and a meal. She had recently started going to my church, heard that some lady just had twins and immediately knew she wanted to meet me. They came in and were as sweet as ever. I remember when I learned that not only were they going to my church, but they lived just a few blocks from me and a little bud of hope began to form-the hope of a dear friend. That hope has become a reality.

She has five children and I have six. Our children, even though they don't match up exactly in their ages, love each other, and my sister and I, well, we love each other too. It has been amazing to watch our friendship grow. I would never have guessed that we could have been friends. I think some times that we are more different than we are the same. For example: she is tall, I am short. She works out A-lot and thus she is thin. I do not like to work out, am not consistent and thus I am chubby. She LOVES to cook (she has a cooking blog-Family, Food and Fun), I have been afraid of cooking for most of my married life (I do not have a cooking blog). She is originally from Arkansas and I am originally from New York.  She enjoys being indoors for days on end, I love to get out and go.  Golly, she can read, and read, and read, and well, shamefully I like to stay busy and don't read as much as I should.  She is quiet and takes her time to say the right words, I am not quiet and have regretted many times the words that have flown out of my mouth. What else....what else...she has this bravery with delivering her babies, I, although I have gone through five deliveries, have been a complete chicken. She also has this bravery with cooking a meal for any new mom in the church and bringing it to their home. I am not confident that anyone will enjoy my cooking (except my Italian cooking) and am too shy to go over to some one's house to even drop off the meal. Do I really need to go on? We are clearly not two peas in a pod.

So, you ask, how have we become sisters if we are so different. Well, I'll tell you. We liked each other enough to battle through the things where we differ to find the things that are more important that we share in common. For example: We love the Lord with all our hearts, soul, mind and strength. He is everything to us. We have been able to share openly about the Lord and His leading in our lives. We love our children and believe God has given them to us to bless us. We both believe we have been called to home school our children. We love our husbands dearly and are so proud of them. We do enjoy sharing our lives with each other and talking (!) Our husbands have become best friends too. Our husbands are quite different from each other also, but somehow they have managed to become close friends. They help each other work on their cars, building projects, and so much more.

Don't get me wrong, no relationship goes along perfectly and if it's real, it won't. We have misunderstood each other, been so hurt that our friendship was on the brink of ending, but we talked it through, didn't give up, forgave each other, and grew even closer.

I really can't believe it's happening...my sister is moving away! She's going back home to Arkansas. I can hardly type..the tears have so blurred my vision. I have given all I am with no fear or thought of ever loosing her. I can't imagine and don't want to imagine my life, our lives without her or her precious family. I have been challenged to grow up so much in the last few years by her gentle prodding and even by simply watching her life.  It feels like a death has entered my life. Everyone says, "you'll talk and keep up through facebook," but I won't be able to hug her, or see her car pull into my driveway, and watch our children with excited squeals hug each other. I won't be able to watch her children grow up. I won't be able to hug them, and kiss them, and have them over for play dates. Simply put- life is going to feel very empty without my sister.

I truly hate that this is happening and I mean that in the most selfish way.  I want my life to go on as it has been. I want my sister near me. I want our children to grow up together. I want to get even closer and closer. I don't want this ache in my heart. I want her nearby to call at any time, to drop by and hang out on her front porch while the children play wildly. I want the security of knowing she is right there if I should need her.

I don't know how my heart has a joy for her, but it does. I am truly happy for her to be near her mom and for the kids to have their grandparents around all the time and for her husband to be finally happy in a job where he'll be appreciated. I am glad for them. I guess that's the mark of a true frinedship- even though I am just so miserable for me, I am happy for her. I really want the best for her.

 So, my dear, sweet Rebekah, I will miss you with all my heart. I will miss our talks, and our time together, but I pray that you will find what you have been looking for back home.  That you will find a new church and even a new best friend. I'll say goodbye, but know that I'll never let you go.






Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Baked French Toast

I found this recipe at allrecipes.com. and we were pleased with it.
(Although I changed the recipe a bit. I used  used 3/4 cup skim milk and 3/4 cup half and half cream. I also simply did not add the 3 tablespoons of light corn syrup).

What I like about this recipes is that I can prepare it at night, wake up the next day, put it in the oven and have a hot breakfast ready for my children.

Baked French Toast
  • 1 (1 pound) loaf French bread, cut diagonally in 1 inch slices
  • 8 eggs
  • 2 cups milk
  • 1 1/2 cups half-and-half cream
  • 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
  • 3/4 cup butter
  • 1 1/3 cups brown sugar
  • 3 tablespoons light corn syrup

Directions

  1. Butter a 9x13 inch baking dish. Arrange the slices of bread in the bottom. In a large bowl, beat together eggs, milk, cream, vanilla and cinnamon. Pour over bread slices, cover, and refrigerate overnight.
  2. The next morning, preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). In a small saucepan, combine butter, brown sugar and corn syrup; heat until bubbling. Pour over bread and egg mixture.
  3. Bake in preheated oven, uncovered, for 40 minutes. 

Monday, October 15, 2012

A Pink Knitted Sweater

It was just an ordinary day, kids were in their rooms, music playing softly and I was amidst piles and piles of clothes. I was cleaning out my two youngest children's drawers-finding what was too small, what to give away and what to save as a 'souvenir' of my happy memories. When I came across a hand-knitted, pink, cardigan sweater that my mother had knitted for my very first daughter. I held it up and remembered. I remembered my first daughter wearing it and my second daughter wearing it too. I even remembered the pictures we took of them in it. Then I remembered my mother. Tears began to fill my eyes. I haven't had tears for my mother for a few years now, but today I had tears.

Funny how with all the not so good memories I have of my mother and my family I can still remember the sweeter moments. When it was just my mother and I we got along. She seemed to care about me. She seemed to want to be near me and listen to me. I even remember once or twice where she seemed a little proud of me. Maybe it wasn't real. Maybe she was just showing she liked me because she felt she had to, but maybe at some moments, when no one was looking, she liked me.

She, for sure, was not a fan of mine, but there were moments, few, where I think she may have liked me. I say moments because my sisters would quickly remind her of  'who I really was' and then she would be critical, judgemental, uncaring, and selfish towards me again. I would always hope that she would fight for me. That she would stand up to my sisters and say, "I just spent a wonderful afternoon with Ellen -I don't think you know her very well." But she didn't. She never did. She never seemed to be able to remember who I was. I don't know how one forgets so easily or is swayed so swiftly, but that is what I lived with...a forgetful mother.

Being a mommy to three girls I can't imagine forgetting my daughters. I can't imagine not fighting for them. I can't even imagine allowing one daughter to talk badly about the other daughter. I love my three daughters-all of them. I know them. I really know each of them. No one could pull the wool over my eyes about one of them. No one could tell me something that I don't already know about them. My mother didn't know me. She hadn't spent enough time with me to know for sure if the things my sisters were whispering in her ears were truth or lies. It's all just so sad.

The saddest part of it all is that I could have my mother right now, but I don't. I could have her to tell me about my ancestry or the old family stories, to teach me some of the Italian family recipes, to teach the traditions, but I don't. I could have my mother teach me and my girls how to knit our own pink sweater, but I don't. I could have a mother who would call me and see how I'm doing and give me advice. I could have my mother to laugh with. I could have her to come and visit me and read to my babies, her grand babies, and love us and all of us love her, but I don't.  My mother chose to believe the lies. My mother chose not to get to know me. My mother chose to forget me.

With all that said, understand I didn't cry because I'm hurting, or neglected, or because I was falsely accused,  I cried because I remembered her. I cried over the sweet memories I hold in my heart towards her. I cried because I know who I am and I know the sweet side of her. I cried because I could see how much the Lord has healed me. I have not allowed the enemy to steal my sweet memories. I have not believed the lies. I know the truth.

Lord, thank you for my mother. Thank you for the good memories. Thank you for the walks to the library, watching shows together, taking bus rides to N.J. to visit my grandmother, and for talks in a quiet house. Thank you that I had a mother, some little girls never did.

 Lord, if I carry any unforgiveness towards her for all she has said and done to me, show me that I may forgive her and have my heart cleansed. Watch over her, where ever she is, draw her to you and let her know just how much you love her and forgive her. I place her in your hands, I know she is safe with you.

My mother said goodbye to me, or ended our relationship in the fall of 2005. It has been seven years since I have seen her.
(Part of the Prima Famiglia saga)




Friday, October 12, 2012

Through the ROOF!

When you hear the saying, "Through the roof," what comes to mind? Your father yelling? Your mom saying, "When you're dad hears this he is going to go through the roof !" Sadly, it does for me. But after reading the Bible with my two little ones that phrase holds a new meaning in my life, a Biblical one.

"Through the roof" used to remind me of impatience or even a bit of anger. I think too of the show, 'The Honeymooners," of how Ralph Kramden (Jackie Gleason) would yell at  his wife Alice Kramden (Audrey Meadows) when he was just so frustrated -"POW -ZOOM!" he would yell at her-"Straight to the moon with you Alice!" The imagine is a bit rough isn't it?

Well, the other night I was reading to my two youngest at bedtime. We usually end the night reading a story from their children's Bible. I opened up to the Gospels and as I was flipping the pages to find a story that would fit the day I came across the title that read, "Through the Roof!" As my eyes scanned the title I had all these, not so good, thoughts of a father or mother yelling at their children and truly scratched my head to figure out what story is in here that I haven't heard before. At this point I was more curious over the title now than I was in finding a good story for the little ones.

As I read the story aloud I quickly realized that it was the story of the three men who brought their very ill friend to Jesus for healing. They did this by lowering him down through the roof to where Jesus was. Picture this: There's this guy who is really sick, I think he was lame, and has no way of getting himself to Jesus. His three friends make a stretcher for him, they research where Jesus was preaching that day, and they carry their friend to Jesus. Upon arriving at the house where Jesus was these guys can't get in! The house was packed. These friends don't give up. They carry their sick friend onto the roof, work at cutting a whole in this strangers roof, get some ropes and proceed to lower their friend right through the roof in front of Jesus!

Well, I'm impressed. If you should ever wonder what makes a good friend I think you'll find the definition hidden in this story. These friends sacrificed their time and their energy for their friend. They were brave-I don't think I would have been brazen enough to go up on some one's roof and carve out a hole, but I hope I would. They weren't afraid of what people would say about them or even do to them for making the hole in the roof. They were also determined and full of faith for their friend's healing. The Bible says it was because of their faith that their friend was healed.  Now that's something! The sick person may not have believed at all. That sick guy might not have had any faith, but the friends had enough for him and he was healed.

So whenever you are having feelings that send you "through the roof," and as you are thinking of sailing up and out, remember that the faith came down and Jesus brought healing. I love the contrast- as we send our frustration up to God, up through the roof, He will hear us and send down the healing, right through the very hole in the roof you have made in sending it to Him! Remember too, to lean on the friends God has placed in your life, they just may have more faith for your healing than you have for yourself!

Defrosting the Meat!

Okay, so I've gotten more organized in planning my family's meals and facing the fear of trying new recipes, BUT the next problem has been on the day I go to cook meal the meat is frozen solid! I shop once a month and in doing this all the meat, be it beef, chicken, fish, etc. has to be put in a deep freezer to last the month. It's been frustrating mostly on the days when I have to leave the house by 9am with the kids and have forgotten to take the meat out to defrost!

So, I've come up with another new plan! (I just had to-right? When something isn't working you have to figure out some way to press on and fix the problem). Well, on Sunday nights I look at my planned menu for the week, go to the deep freezer and pull all the meat out that I will need for the week and stick it all in the refrigerator. Now, when I go to cook my dinner the meat has naturally defrosted and I'm not pulling my hair out trying to defrost a completely, frozen, whole chicken!

I've been doing this for about a month now and truly it has brought even more peace to my cooking. It may sound silly, but everything is there waiting for me to simply cook- the struggle is gone.

More Help in Planning a Month Worth of Recipes

I'm excited to share a new idea I've had! A while ago, I signed up with http://allrecipes.com/ to receive new recipes via my e-mail. Well, I started getting more recipes than I knew what to do with.So, I decided rather than feel overwhelmed I would: 1) Go through them periodically and delete the ones that I knew I would never do, and 2) I made a special folder entitled "all recipes.com" in my e-mail account.

Now, whenever I get a new recipe that I might try I store it up in this special folder. It makes cleaning up my e-mails go faster and helps me know that the recipes are there if I need them.

Now I have six pages of e-mailed recipes stored up! I'm excited because I have decided that this next month will be recipes from allrecipes.com. I have started going through the recipes and looking at their ingredients more closely, (If they call for something too hot or spicy or simply something that we will not like I delete the recipe).

Another thing I really like about this idea is that when I decide I want to use a particular recipe I print it out and store it in my very own recipe binder. (I am putting all my family's favorite breakfast, lunch and dinner recipes in a binder). Some of you may have been doing this for years, but not me. I am finally feeling organized with cooking and providing good and healthy meals for my family.

Hope this helps!

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

I'm Italian and a Mommy...so Yes, I'm Affectionate

I was driving along in the van with my children one day and my second oldest was sitting in the seat next to me. It's a new thing for us because she's been too young or too tiny by law to sit in the front seat. If she knows we're going some place local she'll jump into the front seat next to me. It's been  fun having her all to myself. The other kids are in the back talking and singing and the two of us are in the front just conversing without being interrupted. So, this one day my girl was so excited to have this alone time with me that she starting talking and never stopped to take a breath. She laughed and giggled at herself -she was just so adorable! Well, my response to her cuteness was touch. Anytime she said something that just got my heart I reached over and  grabbed her shoulder, touched her head, or pinched her cheek. She stopped talking for a moment and said with the sweetest voice, "Why do you keep touching me?"  "Well, I said, " I guess touching you is one way I communicate that I am absolutely head over heels in love with you." She reached out her hand and grabbed my shoulder back! We both laughed.

Now when we're in the house and she's talking on and on and I look at her beautiful face and sparkly eyes I see now just how much I can't stop myself from hugging her, kissing her, basically overwhelming her with affection and interrupting her train of thought.  We've had many laughs over it. I tell her that I touch her more than she touches me not only because I'm 100% Italian and she's only half Italian but because I love her way more than she could possibly love me!

I know my Italian heritage has affected me to be a physical person, but the love the Lord has put in my heart for my kids is so much at times that it aches my heart. I have to hold them, and kiss them, squish them, even step lightly on their little chubby toes to catch their attention and wink at them.  I play, "What time is it?" and tickle them or walk over to them to just smell their head. I think it's a mommy thing and I think our children need our affection. Granted, I may over do it, but my love comes bursting out into a smile, a hug, a squeeze - you name it. I think no matter what happens my kids know I love them.

Sometimes when I see my nieces or  friend's children I find my heart overwhelmed with love for them and I can't hold back. I remember so many times when I have swooped up a friend's child to kiss them and I have  gotten a surprised look from the child. They had no idea how much I loved them until then, but after that they knew that I required hugs and kisses when they saw me.

I kind of think Jesus must have had that too. He loved us so much that He died on the cross for us. His heart must have been bursting with love for His friends and family. I can see Him greeting His friends with a big bear hug, embracing them and loving them. Holding the little children, and taking them up on His lap. I love the thought of Jesus holding me or walking along with me holding my hand.  I pray for my children each night that  they will have visions of walking with Jesus in a meadow, side-by-side, holding His hand and talking with Him. The vision is so beautiful and tender.

I am a mere human with a heart that is corrupted by this world and yet my heart overflows with love for my children, how very much more does our Savior, Jesus Christ, love us.

“Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? 10 Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? 11 If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!" (Matthew 7:9-11)


Tuesday, October 2, 2012

The Boy's Room


When I was pregnant with each child I prayed for a theme 
for their room. I would pray for a 'life scripture' or verse for each.
Once we believed we had the Scripture for that child 
I painted it on the wall.
From the Scripture I proceeded to paint the room theme.

For example:
My first child was a little boy.
I had gotten a vision of little sheep frolicking
in a field and Jesus among them.
I immediately was reminded of Psalm 23:
The Lord is my Shepherd...
and thus painted it on the wall.
(That's me, very pregnant, with my first child).


Next I made my own sheep stencils.
Some sheep were sleeping, running, even dancing.
Finally, I painted the sheep all around the room as a border
with Jesus in the middle right under the Scripture.

 That's hubby painting the details.


The photos you are looking at are pictures 
I took twelve years ago with a 35mm camera!
(Basically, I took pictures of the pictures).
Sorry they are not so great.


But there is Jesus in the field with a lamb across His shoulders
and other sheep following Him.


Sheep in the field...


A lambie dancing...

and sheep sleeping.



Here is my little baby boy all grown up!
We took this picture of him standing on his bed next to his Scripture.

As my boy was getting older, 
and his younger brother was going to be moved into his room,  
I had to think of ways to incorporate what they love, ie sports and Jesus.

I began to pray again for a theme. 
My boys love soccer so I started praying for a way to 
join soccer and Scriptures together.

One day this 
 Catholic catalog,( Catholic Supply of St. Louis),
came in the mail and I found pictures of Jesus
playing sports with children.
That was my answer!

I bought these portraits and they are hanging on
the wall in the boys room.





These were the only two they had in the catalog!
I love them and I believe my boys do too.

Clearly, this room theme was not as labor intensive as
was the "Lord is My Shepherd" theme,
but just as important to me that my children see
Jesus among them in all they do.
I also hope it will remind them of how God gets the
glory for the victory in their lives!








The Baby's Room

Decorating each child's room has taken
time, thought and mostly prayer.

Our fifth child is a little boy we named Daniel.
I had thought of stenciling and painting pictures
directly onto the wall, as I had done in the past,
but realized that we may have more children and would need
to change the room to add more, so I came up with painting
his life verse and pictures onto canvas' and hang them on the wall.

Here is what hangs above Daniel's bed:


Here is the Scripture verse we chose for Daniel:


Here is the prophet Daniel praying at his window.


Here is the angel that protected Daniel from the lions.


And the lion, with his mouth closed, that kept Daniel company.



Now when our sixth baby came along we knew
 she would need to share a room with Daniel.
So, after getting her name and life verse
I proceeded to design canvas' for her in the exact style of
Daniel's so it would match the room.



Her name is Joyelle
and this is Scripture we chose for her.


and this...


"Then all the trees of the forest will sing for joy..."


"they will sing before the Lord for He comes."

I had wanted bunnies for her room and after coming 
across this Scripture I made a forest theme-
of course there are eight bunnies in this canvas!

My husband prayed and prayed
about what her middle name should be
and found Liberty would suit her and her time.
The Scripture that spoke strongly to him for her was:


The wonderful thing about putting everything on canvas
is that you can move it around,
and you don't have to paint over it.

I have been so convicted that our children need to be 
surrounded by Scriptures in every area of their lives.
This has been one way for me to do that.