Memories.....

It's been 43 years since I ate my first lobster. That's me on the far left, next to Grandma Tomlonson. My mom and brother are across the table from us. My dad took the picture.

That was my first and most recent trip to Maine. We took a lot of camping vacations when I was growing up. My parents wanted to travel around the country and see as much of it as possible before my brother turned 16. So in 1967 we traveled to New England, in 1968 we went to the Southwest, and in 1969 we went to the Northwest.

I have great memories of those trips - always a new place to sleep, new things to see, new foods to try. I swam in both oceans, fell in love with rocky sea shores, discovered the rain forest on the Olympic Peninsula, attended the rangers' fireside talks at the National Parks. I learned to love the Kansas prairie at dusk, the Rocky Mountains at sunrise, and the wondrous cold of a mountain stream on bare feet.

I remember looking out from our campsite in Rapid City, South Dakota one night and seeing the lights of Wall, SD 60 miles east. I remember the sandy feeling of the warm wood of a boardwalk along the Jersey shore on a July afternoon. I remember the view from the rest stop near Banff, Alberta, as we ate a picnic lunch on my 12th birthday.

Years later my dad added up the total costs of those trips - buying the camper, gas, campground fees, etc., and found that we could have made the same trips staying in motels for the same money.

Sorry Dad, you're wrong. They wouldn't have been the same trips.......

The Little Things....

“There is neither honor nor advantage in the neglecting of little things. God makes the flower which is to perish unseen in secret nooks as perfect as that destined to bloom before millions of admirers; he carves with the same exquisite symmetry the shell which is so small as to be almost microscopic, and the great treasure of the sea. God slights nothing. They who love goodness and beauty for their own sakes will slight nothing.” - The Complete Home by Mrs. Julia Mc. Nair Wright

To be faithful in the little things – what does it mean?

It means making sure that the knife is facing the plate when setting the table. It means matching the patch of wallpaper in the corner above the door where no one will ever look. It means straightening the towels on the rack in the bathroom before you leave it.

Faithfulness in the little things means that the big things fall into place.

Because you were faithful in the little thing of writing “peanut butter” on the list when you saw that the jar was getting low, you have peanut butter to use next week when the jar is empty. Because you were faithful in washing the towels on Monday, your family has clean towels to use on Tuesday. Because you were faithful in the little thing of turning on the dishwasher after supper, you have clean dishes to use in the morning.

Because you were faithful in paying the bills on time…Because you were faithful in keeping the toilet clean…Because you were faithful in changing your baby’s diaper…

Because you were faithful in memorizing Bible verses…..Because you were faithful in praying for your children’s spouses….Because you were faithful in giving to that missionary….

Take a moment and think what your life and your family’s lives would be like if you neglected the little things….

A Couple of Splendid Lads....

Our two younger boys (ages 16 and 18) both earned their Eagle Scout ranks in Boy Scouts this past spring. A great accomplishment and the pinnacle of their scouting careers – but there’s more than that to being an Eagle Scout. Earning the Eagle Scout rank shows that a boy has what it takes to be a man.

We’re trying hard to raise our boys to be men. It seems like it would be natural – let nature take its course, the hormones will kick in, and then suddenly they’re men, right?

But two things work against that. First of all is our culture. We are a feminized culture where defense of the weak is called violence, schools expect nine year old boys to sit quietly in their seats for six hours a day, organized sports for children downplays competition, churches are led by women. On television our boys see men as idiots, husbands as something to tolerate until you can change them, fathers as clueless. In other words, for a man to be accepted in our culture he has to more like….a woman.

The second thing that works against our boys is their own sin nature. It’s hard to step up to the plate, to work until you’re exhausted, to take charge. It’s scary to accept the role of the spiritual head of the home. It’s so much easier to take the quieter road, the passive road, the….feminine road.

To prize manliness goes against our culture, but that’s what we want for our young men. We want them to get dirty, to know how to lead their peers, to accept the roles God has given them. We want them to take responsibility, to try even when they know they will probably fail, to succeed against all odds. We want them to be the boy with his finger in the dike, Horatio on the bridge, Churchill during the London blitz.

Will earning the Eagle Rank guarantee that our boys will be manly men? No, but it’s a great start.

An Eagle Scout

True to his God and his Nation's Flag,
A boy whose loyalties never sag.
An adventurous sort of a rough, tough lad,
He'd share with anyone, all that he had.
He's cheerful and good, and he's filled with fun,
He always helps till the work is done.
No loafer is he, this young man with skill,
With his disciplined heart, mind and will.
He camps and cooks, he hikes and climbs,
He can sing a song or make a verse that rhymes.
He's a splendid youth with a lifetime goal,
He's the type of boy who's in control.
There's no better young man in this great land,
Than an Eagle Scout with a helping hand.

Our Miracle Baby Born July 4, 1988

We know about those miracle babies who are born prematurely or with drastic health problems but survive through God’s intervention and the advances of medicine. Their survival is a true miracle. But there’s another kind of miracle baby – the kind that in spite of all kinds of threats to their survival are born at the right time, whole and healthy. My daughter is one of those miracle babies.

The first threat to her survival came early. In 1987 I had my first two miscarriages, one in April and one in August, both at 10 weeks gestation. My doctor at the time was our family practitioner, and his advice was straightforward and simple: “We usually don’t investigate for causes to miscarriages until there have been three in a row. So go ahead and try again.”

We found out a few years later (after two more miscarriages) that I have a condition called “luteal phase defect”. In other words, most months my body doesn’t produce enough progesterone to sustain a baby’s life until the placenta is mature enough to stimulate the production of progesterone. The levels of progesterone fluctuate from month to month – only God knows which months I would be able to conceive and carry a baby past 10 weeks. Going ahead and trying again – as my doctor advised – was basically a death sentence to any babies we would conceive…unless God intervened.

But we didn’t know that back in 1987, so we tried again. In November I went to the doctor for a pregnancy test, and it was positive. I had wanted another child so badly, but when I heard the news I could only cry. We had already lost two of our babies, and I felt like we were sacrificing the life of this one just so that we might have another baby sometime in the future.

The 10 week point for this pregnancy was the week between Christmas and New Year’s. We cancelled a trip east to spend Christmas with our families. I didn’t want to have another miscarriage away from home, and didn’t want my mood to put a damper on everyone else's holidays. Christmas was quiet, with just our 3 year old son, my dear husband and me. Each day during that week passed with me constantly watching for signs of an impending miscarriage. The first week of January came, I went back to work, and we began to hope that maybe this pregnancy would be successful, with a due date of July 21.

By the middle of January we had passed the milestone of the first trimester and we began to plan for our new baby. I grew larger and larger with each passing week and my doctor’s examinations gave me a clean bill of health. The spring months passed slowly (as they always do when you’re pregnant), and in May we planned a birthday party for our son who would be 4 on May 28.

Then came the second major threat to our baby’s survival. May 27 was a Friday and I was at week 32 in my pregnancy. After work I picked up our son at daycare and then ran a couple errands before going home. After supper I was finishing up the plans for the birthday party the next day. Suddenly, blood started pouring down my legs. By the time my husband had called the doctor, someone to take care of our son, and we were ready to go to the hospital – a space of about five minutes – I had lost so much blood that I couldn’t walk to the car. My husband somehow half carried me there, and we rushed to the hospital.

Once I had been stabilized in the emergency room, an ultrasound was done and we found out that I had a condition known as placenta previa – meaning that the placenta was completely covering the opening of my uterus, and if I continued in labor the placenta would be delivered first and our baby would not survive. We discussed transferring us to another hospital equipped with a neo-natal intensive care nursery for an emergency caesarean. Then the contractions stopped, the bleeding was under control, and we stayed where we were.

I stayed in the hospital for a week. The doctor said I could go home to wait for the caesarean we had planned for July 12, but only if I had someone with me who could drive me to the hospital in case of an emergency. We ended up hiring a 14 year old girl to stay with me during the day for a few weeks (in Kansas, 14 year olds can have a provisional license to drive to and from work and school), and my dad took a couple weeks of his vacation to stay with me (spending some of that time working from our home), and we waited. I was on bed rest – I could take a shower, eat at the table for one meal, and use the bathroom - but other than that I was on the couch or in bed. I was also taking drugs to speed up the development of the baby’s lungs and to prevent me from having any contractions. Time passed very, very slowly.

Early in the morning of July 4 I got up to use the bathroom and felt a “pop”. I knew something bad had happened. Within a minute or two I was in the car, but I don’t remember much past that point. I was losing blood so quickly that I had mostly lost consciousness by the time we reached the hospital – less than 5 minutes away. I do remember the anesthetist putting me under, and an emergency caesarean was done. At 3:00 our daughter was born.

I found out later how much blood I had lost, how much time it took to stitch me up again, and how my husband was able to hold his new daughter for hours and just rock her and talk to her. She was healthy, over 8 pounds, and beautiful. She had been carried through two threats to her life – she is truly God’s miracle gift to us.

The Daylily is Being Transplanted Again

We've moved too many times, but up until now the moving has been the hard part. For the last 30 years my dear husband has worked for the same company, and a move didn't mean a brand new job - just a different place for the same job.

All of that changed just over three months ago. For reasons beyond his control, my husband's company decided they no longer wanted him to work for them. So now we've joined the ranks of the unemployed, and the next move will be a jump into the unknown unlike any other move has been.

Being unemployed has been...well, I wouldn't say fun....but not as bad as I thought it would be three months ago.

At the end of March, God gave me this verse: "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9 (ESV). That verse came to mind night after night as I'd think of what could happen - the "what if's" that crowd our brains at 3:00 am when rational thought escapes us. I resolved to not fear the future - after all, aren't I a child of God? Doesn't He hold me in the palm of His hand? I know, firmly believe, and can testify that He never, ever lets anything touch me that hasn't already passed through His hands. He is sovereign, and that's the end of the story.

We've gone through April, May and now June without fear of the future - we know that what we are living through is for our good and His glory. We know He knows our future, and it will be better than we can imagine.

But there's more. There's another verse that He is reminding me of more and more: "Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me." Phil. 4:11-13.

I've always thought of myself as being content, but the past few months have shown me the source of my contentment - God Himself. I can imagine situations where contentment escapes me, but not this one. He is supplying our needs, and what He doesn't supply, we find we don't need.

And as an added bonus, I get to do something I didn't think I'd be able to do for many years yet. I get to spend every day with my best friend. I didn't think that would happen until he retired!

"Yet it was kind of you to share my trouble." Phil. 4:14. Keep our family and every family you know that faces unemployment in these difficult times in your prayers!

A Vision of Order

God gave me a vision for our home many years ago: children who are friends with each other, delicious homemade meals prepared on time, time to read good literature together, hymns known so well they can be sung from memory, fresh curtains blowing in the breeze in an open kitchen window. In short, God gave me a vision of a peaceful, ordered home.







He gave me this vision when our home was a mess. With four young children, our family recovering from another move, my spirit battered from multiple miscarriages, my husband working many hours to establish himself in his new job…our home was anything but peaceful. Chaos and disorder reigned, and I struggled to get meals on the table and the laundry done.

Then in Bible study I learned this principle: “God is not a God of chaos, but of order”. That order trickles down from God’s created order, to history, to governments, to the church, and ultimately to my home. But how could I order my home in a God honoring way? How could I develop a routine of cleaning and housework that reflected God’s order and pleased my family as well?

The best way I found was to have a schedule. I rebelled for years against having a schedule – after all, I’m an intelligent person, able to direct my own daily tasks. I thought a schedule would stifle the time I had with my children, would deny me any time for “myself”, would make housework a drudgery and a chore. Nothing could be further from the truth. God opened my eyes to understand that my rebellion against a schedule was just that – rebellion. God has shown us His pattern in the Bible: that rules and boundaries – set with love and care – bring joy and contentment, if we only submit to them.

That pattern extends into our home. The schedule I have put in place for myself and my children provides our whole family with the joy of having a clean home, meals prepared and eaten on time, clean laundry folded and in dresser drawers, and a content (not stressed!) Mama.

That is the vision. Our role as homemakers is to turn the vision into reality. But how? If your home is like mine was, there is a huge gap between the vision and the reality – but it is possible. Start with the small things. Make the details fall into line, and the bigger things will follow.

Is Your Home a Daylily or an Oak Tree?

One of my favorite websites is "The Homemaker's Mentor" by Mrs. Martha Greene. She is a true "Titus 2 woman", dedicated to helping younger women learn the art of homemaking. I am so excited to be a "guest mentor", and will be writing lessons that will be published on the site occasionally! I'm posting the first lesson I wrote here, although without the beautiful graphics and extras that Marmee Dear (aka Mrs. Martha Greene) will be adding for publication. Take a look at the Homemaker's Mentor website by clicking the link above, and meanwhile, enjoy my lesson....


Preserving your Home While Changing Houses

Once when my dear husband was a boy, he was riding into town with his father and they passed a house with a sign in the front yard that said “Home for Sale”. Dad said “They need to change that sign. You can’t sell a home; you can only sell a house. A home is forever.”

That story has influenced me greatly over the years as we’ve sold house after house – and become experts at buying them! But we’ve never sold our home. We always keep in mind that no house, no matter how much we love it, will ever be our permanent home. Our home is our family, and it is forever.

Since I’m a gardener at heart, I like to look at things with a gardener’s eye. Even though the metaphor doesn’t always fit, it helps me to think of a home as a living, growing thing, like a plant. I’ll try to help you see what I mean –



Some homes are like oak trees – an old oak that has grown in the same spot for a hundred years. As part of the landscape, no one can imagine this town or this neighborhood without that family and their home there. The branches are strong, there are many seedlings growing in the area, and the roots grow deep into the ground. The family and the home are part of the soil, part of the air they breathe, part of the community.

Other homes are like our home – a daylily that gets transplanted every few years. A daylily flourishes wherever it is planted and brings a bit of beauty to its surroundings for awhile. When it is transplanted to another spot, it suffers in some ways – each time it is moved, it seems harder to establish a good root system again – but in most ways the flower flourishes. The new soil and surroundings revitalize it and keep it strong, and it is healthier for having been moved.

Transplanting a flower successfully requires special care. It needs to be carefully removed from its bed with as little damage to the roots as possible. It needs to be kept moist with the root ball intact during the transition. And most important, it needs to be placed in a well prepared spot and lavished with plenty of water and fertilizer. Moving your daylily home takes the same care. We have learned a few things along our journey about how to transplant this daylily. I hope you’ll be able to glean a few helpful things from my experience!


How to transplant your daylily home -

Removing your home from its bed:
o Pack an “Open Me First” box. Fill this box with things that you will need to live in your new house for the first day or two. Your “Open Me First” box will be the bit of soil that you transfer from one spot to the next along with your plant. In a large box pack
• bedding for all of your family’s beds
• towels, washcloths and toiletry items
• plates, silverware, glasses and napkins so that you’ll be able to serve a simple meal or two before the rest of the boxes are unpacked
• favorite toys, if you have young children
• a few supplies to clean kitchen cupboards, bathrooms, etc.
• new, pretty shelf liner for your new kitchen cupboards

o If the weather cooperates, take a walk around your old neighborhood. Take time to say good bye. Be especially aware of what the others in your family will want to say goodbye to – while Mama’s final goodbye may be said to her favorite grocery store, your children might want to spend a last few minutes at their favorite park!

o Take pictures of your house. I realized during a move several years ago that we usually took pictures of the new house, but rarely had pictures of what it looked like after we had lived in it for awhile and had painted, decorated and made it ours. Take pictures of what it looked like when you were living there and you’ll cherish them for years.


Making the transition to the new site:

o Pack a picnic pack – disposable cups, a roll of paper towels, some plastic silverware, paper plates, wet wipes and a box of tissues. Wherever you are over the next few days – in your old house full of half packed boxes, riding in a car, in a motel room, or in your new house full of half un-packed boxes – you’ll have everything you need for anything from a grocery store picnic to a drink of water.
• What’s a grocery store picnic? That’s when we’re travelling, and instead of going to a restaurant to eat we stop at a grocery store and buy crackers, cheese and fruit for a quick meal.

o If someone else is packing for you, make sure that the things you want to be together are near each other. You don’t want to lose a pair of shoes because they ended up in a box marked “kitchen”! And be sure to take out the trash before the packers arrive – they are trained to pack everything!

o Make plans for any animals that are moving with you.
• Make sure you have enough food for the transition
• Think about how the animals will be traveling – do they need cages to travel in?
• Pack leashes (even if your pet doesn’t normally use one), food and water dishes, treats and medications. Make one of those ID tags for your pet’s collar with your new address on it.

o If you’re travelling a long way – more than across town – turn the travel time into an adventure. Spend time talking about your new town, or have a book about your new area to read aloud during the trip. Many years ago when we moved to west Texas, we enjoyed the adventure of learning about Cowboys and the early days of settling that area. On our move to the Bluegrass Region of Kentucky, we learned about horse farms and looked for white fences.


Preparing the flower’s new location:

o I always try to remember that even though I’ve seen the new house and spent many weeks living in it in my imagination, many times moving day is the children’s first opportunity to see the new house. I try to make that first night seem more like home by making sure their bedrooms are as much like the old house as possible with beds set up, dressers in place, favorite toys in their place for that first night. Little children appreciate sleeping in familiar surroundings!

o Make a quick trip to the grocery store to buy necessary perishables and a few items for your supper that night and breakfast the next morning.
o Celebrate the first night in your new house with a simple meal together.
o The next day, give a job to everyone!
• The kitchen cupboards will need to be cleaned and new shelf liner put in.
• The bathrooms will need to be cleaned.
• Bigger people can start sorting the boxes that are in that huge pile in your garage or living room and carrying them into the rooms where they belong.
• Small people will need to have supervision and play time in between their times of helping.

o Finally, boxes will need to be opened and everything put away.
• Make it a rule that every box needs to be emptied, the packing paper taken care of and the box broken down before the next box is opened. Nothing is more disheartening than the chaos of a dozen opened and half-emptied boxes!
• Arrange the furniture so that everyone can sit down for a break when it’s needed. If your family is like ours, Mama will want to try out the furniture in different arrangements anyway!
• Unpack and set up one room at a time; make each room livable.
• Take a break every day to explore your new town and neighborhood.

o Get back into your household routine quickly – doing this within a couple days of moving will be the water that your family’s new home needs to establish those roots.


Watering and fertilizing your home in its new location:

o Give yourself and your family time to settle in, to let this house and this town feel like home. Every time we’ve moved, our settling in has followed the same pattern and the settling in has taken three years. Every time.
• The first year: First we have to learn how to get from our new house to the grocery store, and the bank, and the library. We learn how the streets are laid out. We find a new doctor, dentist, and vet. We look for a new church. We meet the neighbors. After a few months we find that when we’re driving down a street, we no longer have to look at the street sign to find out where we are – we’ve learned the landmarks.
• The second year: This is the year of “I remember doing that last year”. This is the second time we went to the special Christmas concert. This is the second time we went to the county fair. This is the second time we went to the Memorial Day parade downtown. Things are still new, but they aren’t so strange any more.
• The third year: This is the year that the new place finally starts feeling like home. It takes a few years to develop friendships – suddenly we realize that we have friends that we would miss if we had to move again. We’ve been around enough that we know people, and people know us, and we start getting involved in the community – at our church, at scouts, in the neighborhood. This is the year that we realize that the roots have established themselves again. For now, this is home.

o In these first years after transplanting, remember that the plant that is your family is fragile. Be careful to not make any of these mistakes as you’re helping your home establish its new root system:
• As you settle your home into your new surroundings, it’s easy to hold on too tightly to the past – after all, it’s familiar! Holding on too tightly to the old place keeps you from seeing what is good in the new place. It’s hard to relax and let the roots heal when Mama lets herself complain about the little things: different accents, or the way people drive, or the width of the roads, or the unfriendliness/overfriendliness of the clerks in the grocery store! Things will be different in the new place, and one way to help your home establish itself in your new area is to learn to enjoy what you can and cope with the things you can’t. Mama’s attitude will make a big difference in how well her family accepts the change.
• Another mistake is to try to make a clean break between the old and the new, and never revisit the old place again. Sometimes you just can’t physically revisit the old house, but you can always revisit it in your memory. Making a sudden, clean break shocks the root system, and it can’t grow to embrace the new surroundings.
• A third mistake is to treat the move as if it wasn’t anything major or life changing. A move is huge in your family’s life. It changes everything. Part of Mama’s job is to help her little ones learn from this experience. When it came time for our last move, our daughter was devastated. She was half way through her senior year of high school and was wrapped up in all the things that makes a 17 year old’s life good: a wonderful circle of friends, a church that had helped her grow through some important experiences, a job at the local library that she loved, and a family who had welcomed her into their home as a mother’s helper. We were able to help her accept the move by reliving our previous move with her – in both instances we had not chosen to move, but God had chosen for us. Since our previous move we had seen great growth in our family’s lives, had learned great life lessons, and had made wonderful friends. Why, we reasoned with her, would we expect that God would have any less planned for us in this move? She made the move in faith, and her trust in God’s plan for her life has been confirmed.


Maybe your home is an Oak tree, and you’ve never experienced the adventure of moving. What a blessing! But you have a task – watch for those daylily families that move in and out of your neighborhood. Seek them out, make them feel welcome, extend your own special flavor of hospitality to them. They will appreciate it, and you may make some lifelong friends!
I’ve always wanted my home to be an Oak tree, but God placed me in a daylily home.




Daylilies are beautiful, they persistently grow wherever they are planted, and they bloom profusely. I’m thankful to be part of a daylily home when I think of all the experiences and especially the friends that our family would have missed out on if we had been Oak trees! Are you a daylily? Maybe we’ll be neighbors someday….