Curing the Straighten-It-Out-Aholic in Me

Hello. My name is Dawn and I’m a straighten-it-out-aholic.  

Wherever I go—a doctor’s waiting room, a church pew or a restaurant—I fight the urge to straighten out the piles of magazines, tithing envelopes and menus like it’s a disease. It’s not OCD because I can successfully leave those skewed piles alone, but I don’t like it.  

Ask my daughter who noticed my madness in her preteen years and challenged me while in the pediatrician’s office, whose end tables had lost the fight with toddlers all day long. “Don’t touch them, Mom,” she chided. “You can do it. Leave (those magazines) alone.” I ignored them, but my heart raced until the nurse called us into the examining room. 

(Pssst! Leave your messy piles for just a minute and click HERE for the rest of the story...and maybe a cure?)

Now what, God?

Mary awakens. Her newborn, wrapped in rags and lying in a crude straw filled bed, beckons her. Tired from traveling and birthing she had little time to ponder the night’s events—the angelic fanfare and surprise visits from burly shepherds. Busy with all the mundane tasks like feedings and swaddling changes, Mary might have thought, “Now what, God?”

 

Not the life you’d imagine for the mother of God’s son, but just as she was chosen for her faithfulness and servant heart, Mary remained loyal to God’s teaching, even in the midst of the everyday.

After eight day, she and Joseph, “took [Jesus] up to Jerusalem to offer him to God as commanded in God’s Law: ‘Every male who opens the womb shall be a holy offering to God,’ and also to sacrifice the ‘pair of doves or two young pigeons’ prescribed in God’s Law,” (Luke 2: 22-24 The Message).

This imagery of Mary’s obedience, offering and sacrifice sets and example for our own lives as we ponder all God may have prophesied over our lives.  

Each January 1^st we awaken to a new birth of sorts that holds endless possibilities, but soon enough, we get stuck in all the striving and the failures that we lose sight of what God’s trying to accomplish. We might even catch ourselves asking, “Now what, God?”**

 

**Wondering how this all ends up? Hop over to {re}fresh and find out.

 

Unintentional Ministry: Becoming the home where kids gather

Between Christmas and New Years Eve our home rarely sat quiet. Around noon the day after Christmas, my kids' friends trickled into our house one-by-one with their newest video game or movie under their arms until our house looked like NASA and Best Buys combined.

While the boys set up Command Central on the dining room table and fought virtual enemies, shoulder-to-shoulder, through various computer controls, the girls clumped together, dreamy-eyed, watching their newest chick flicks on the living room floor.

My husband directed Command Central and kept the boys at bay, while I gladly placed the pizza orders and collected delivery money, stocked the 'frig with soft drinks, and strategically placed platters of leftover Christmas cookies within their reach.

As the hours wore on and the all-nighter gang gained parental permission to stay and clear pick up times were agreed upon, we'd slip upstairs with our own new movies and keep our ears to the ground through the night.

It wasn’t always pleasant or easy hosting these all-nighters, whether planned or impromptu, but they were worth it...

(There's many benefits I learned as a Christian parent while hosting these parties. Join me at Christian Children's Authors blog for the list of benefits).

Make Merry This Christmas

 Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks...This day is sacred to our Lord. Do not grieve, for the JOY of the Lord is your Strength. Nehemiah 8:10

The Christmas spirit seeped in early this year. Maybe it was watching Disney World transform into a Christmas wonderland over night on our Thanksgiving vacation or maybe my heart was so tired of grieving that it craved joy like never before.

Either way, I was humming Christmas carols long before Black Friday and it took all the discipline I could muster to keep the lids on our Christmas decorations until after Thanksgiving. But at daybreak on Black Friday, instead of hitting the malls, I spun into a decorating frenzy.

First up were the lights: electric candles in the windows, colored bulbs strung 'round the front bushes, lighted garland on the piano, the mantle, and glowing lights beamed through every window of our nostalgic Christmas village. All this to announce, "CHRISTMAS IS HERE! REJOICE for the LIGHT of Heaven has come!"

And all this light? It pierces the darkness and adds JOY to our little corner of the world. When you live in the Light it drives away the darkness and the joy it brings is contagious. Our neighbor told us our lights brightened his heart so much that he wanted to spread the light, too. So, he strung his own lights "to add joy to the hearts" of those who pass by.

Our first snow fall created the perfect backdrop to reflect the light and created the perfect excuse to stay inside and bake sweet treats. The scents of sugar and chocolate, molasses and peppermint permeated our house all day long. And best of all? Sharing the first fruits of our labor at Sunday dinner.

Some might say I've given in to the commercialism or I'm missing the true meaning of Christmas. To that I say, "Bah humbug!" It's time to claim the hope that God gave us through the birth of his son, Jesus, and live in the joy of God's promise fulfilled and yet to come. Jesus is the Light of the world - the Savior of mankind - who drove out darkness, healed the sick, laid down his life for us that we might have eternal life and be called children of God. That, my friends, is worth celebrating!

Grief stops today, for today is sacred to our Lord. We celebrate the birth of his son, Jesus. So, "go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks...for the JOY of the Lord is our STRENGTH!"

Merry Christmas!
Dawn

Where is Heaven?

At that time Jesus said, “I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Matthew 11:25

“Where is heaven, Grams?” she asked. 

I nearly fell, head first into my car trunk as I neatly packed the grocery sacks, fumbling for just the right words. Her question wasn’t formed from a five-year-olds natural curiosity, but rather her heart’s longing to know Mammie’s new address.

It had been six months since Mammie’s unexpected passing and I’d been expecting this question, but hearing her vocalize it made answering it exceptionally daunting.  I knew my words would matter, because they would influence her hope and faith. I feared getting it all wrong and wondered how to explain what I couldn’t fully grasp myself. What simple, truthful answer could I offer her to this question that stumps even the greatest theologians?
 
I slammed the trunk shut, the question still hung between us. I swung the empty carriage around and lifted her into the car as I searched for just the right words. I breathed a desperate prayer heavenward, wherever that was, “Lord, I need your words…NOW!”

(Fill your favorite Christmas mug and join me over at the Christian Children's Authors blog for the rest of the story...)

She Helps Me Count

"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Bubble-bath clean she looks up at me with her half-mooned baby blues spilling crocodile tears and my heart puddles on the bathroom floor. She pleads with pouted lips, "Grams, I'm too tired to go home. I've just GOT to sleep here at YOUR house, please? I've GOT to."

(Grab your hot coffee or tea and read the rest at {re}fresh? Just click here.)

Turn Around: Letting Go of Your Best Laid Plans

 

 

"I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you and watch over you." Psalm 32:8 NIV

 
I accepted a job, against Godly counsel, that looked promising in every way: more money, better and cheaper health benefits, a lucrative 401K plan, and still close to home. Within eight weeks none of that mattered as I found every facet of my life turned upside down. My pride kept me going, holding onto this job that I just knew was right, but screamed, "TURN AROUND! WRONG WAY! DO NOT ENTER!"

Month after month things grew worse, at home and at my job, but I was in this job to stay, like I had something to prove to God, and planted my feet firmly under my desk. Then one day, I lost my footing...

 

(Slip over to Encouragement Café for the rest of the story, won't you?)

Notice Him

Image by RabbiaGale.com

“For everything God created is good and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving…” 1 Timothy 4:4 

I stare out my picture window into the cold, gray November sky. Chilling winds bare the last golden leaves from the maple limbs carpeting the neighborhood streets and lawns. The first snow sneaks in early, barely visible, and almost undetected—or maybe I just missed it. 

Living a year of great extremes, my heart’s become a bit numb and I miss the obvious things sometimes, like the first fallen snow.  

Experiencing life and death, rejoicing and mourning all together and in multiples with little time for processing, my emotions hang in limbo. Days and weeks jumble together and the months flip forward like I’m thumbing my way through a magazine in the grocery checkout line. While I crave time to reflect, family needs fill my calendar—the young and old alike—and life moves forward.   

And so, on rare occasions when I’m alone and my “to do” list is empty I add to another—my One Thousand Gifts list. Ann Voskamp taught me this—how when your heart is heavy and your days are busy, consciously set your eyes on the horizon and keep watch. Keep watch for all the big and little gifts God bestows on you every day—unique pleasures that whisper, “I AM here and will never leave you” and “I love you.”  

Give thanks because as we express our gratitude, a wellness comes and joy erupts—lifts us closer to heaven. Then, write them down, list them out one-by-one because, as Ann admits truth, our hearts need reminding that God’s goodness surrounds us.

#571 First snow

#572 Fourth grandchild announced

#573 Husband’s victory

#574 African children’s God-joy

#575 Anticipating thanksgiving celebrations

#576 A father remembered 

Every day God’s blessings surround us. Notice them. Give thanks for them. Write them down so that on days when thanksgiving comes hard, your hearts will be reminded of at least a thousand different ways God loves you!  

To start your own One Thousand Gifts list, here's some help Ann gives. Just click here.

My Children Taught Me How to Read

"Jesus taught them many things by using picture stories..." Matthew 13:3a NLV

My children cut their teeth on books like Pat the Bunny (Dorothy Kunhardt), The Little Engine That Could (Watty Piper), Goodnight Moon, The Golden Egg Book and Home for a Bunny (all by Margaret Wise Brown) and various nursery rhyme board books.

 

It all started when I received a lovely book basket overflowing with these colorful childhood treasures from my sister-in-law as a baby shower gift. I poured over every illustration and devoured every word like I’d never seen the likes of such playfulness. And, I hadn’t. 

Growing up just as television became a household item books went to the wayside in our home. Rather than a bedtime story every night, my sisters and I were sent off to bed after watching our favorite week night after-dinner sitcom or weekend variety show. On special occasions we stayed up past our bedtime to watch the latest Sunday night Wonderful World of Disney movie or holiday animated specials.  

I loved listening to stories: in school, during the flannel graph Bible stories at Sunday school and listening to family stories as we gathered around the dinner table. But, books just weren’t a priority in our house.

 

(Amazed that a children's author and writer didn't grow up loving books? Yeah, me too. Click here and join me at Christian Children's Authors blog for the rest of the story, won't you?)

Will He Love Me Forever?

 

"Has not the Lord made them one in flesh and spirit? And what does He desire but God-like children? Be careful then in your spirit, and stay faithful to the wife you married when you were young." Malachi 2:15

We savor slow mornings over steaming coffee and the local paper. My husband reads the facts while I pour over every misspelled word and poorly written sentence between bites. (If only I had a red marking pencil!). Hardly a word spoken between us except for grace, we find comfort just being together.

I grew up wondering if I'd ever know a faithful man; if living happily ever after was just for Disney films because growing up, my home was far from fairy tale perfection. My father walked away leaving my homemaking mom to finish raising three girls alone with no car, no license, no job.

Even so, I wished for the happily ever after ending...prayed for it...always...held onto hope that some day, somehow my dad would come home and we'd be whole again.

His leaving messed me up; made trusting people hard because I figured if I messed up they'd just leave me like he did. So, I built high walls all around my heart, allowing very few friends inside. My husband was one of the few.

We met over breakfast almost forty years ago at his mother's kitchen table. He was ten. I was twelve and in need of a ride to church. His mother volunteered to drive and that's when it all started. His mother bridged the awkward two year gap between us with her friendly smile and easy conversations until we could hold our own a few years later.

He and I talked for hours after school, at youth group, and walked downtown to watch 99 cent movies together now and again. But we never dated. At least we never called it that. We were simply good friends who could talk about anything and everything for hours and enjoyed being together.

Then on Sunday, June 7, 1981, eight years after sharing our first breakfast, everything changed...just like in the fairy tales. I watched him play softball from the sidelines that afternoon and I realized he was more than my very best friend. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.

But I feared my mother's fate. Although my father DID return home, I wondered if  my chosen one would  be faithful, trustworthy and loyal. My heart wondered, "Would he love me forever?"

While our wedding and honeymoon rivaled the best fairy tale, our marriage (now almost 30 years strong) has been far from perfect because we are imperfect people. But one thing I've learned: He is NOT my father. He is trustworthy, faithful, loyal and still my very best friend. He loves the Lord and with God, we tackle the hardest pitches life throws our way. He never gives up on me, always believes the best of me and I love him more today than I did when I watched him slurp his Cheerios at his mom's kitchen table.

And today, when I bridge the awkward gap between my father and the nursing home staff - when I hold what's left of his life between my hands - and cry real tears that only forgiveness allows- I realize how blessed I am with a husband who loves me...forever. 

Thank you, Father, for tearing down our high walls through the power your forgiveness brings. Thank  you for loving, God fearing, faithful husbands who bring great joy and call out the best in their wives. I pray for those suffering from father wounds that you would rescue them, bind their wounded hearts, restore them so that they, too may know the freedom you bring. Release us, Father, from the chains unforgiveness holds tight around our hearts. Help us to love as you love, to offer forgiveness as you freely gave, and to walk fully in your Light in all our relationships. Amen.

Dreaming in Living Color

My husband thinks in cartoons and dreams in living color. The first time he shared that with me I laughed out loud thinking he was trying to impress me with some foolish fiction, but when his cheeks flushed, I realized he was serious.

His imagination plays out life’s foolishness like his favorite Sunday comic strip. You’d never know it until you road-trip with him and his chuckling breaks the silence between you begging the question, “What’s so funny?”  

His dreams, on the other hand, are serious and drenched in living color. God’s gifted him a visionary – one who sees ten thousand feet above the chaos – who sees the end and brings order.  

He dreams BIG. 

But he feels so small. 

When God sets a dream deep inside him it thrills him until distractions come and he sees only the impossible. And when this dream goes unrealized for years (even decades) he begins to think it was all in his head, a fairy tale, or a wish.  

Don’t we all? 

Times like these we need reminding that our visions – our living color dreams – are God’s dreams; something God wants accomplished specifically through us. And when we feel small, or face insurmountable challenges or distractions block our progress we need encouragement – to know that God equips those He’s called and will accomplish everything He’s promised.  

Where do we find encouragement to keep moving forward?  

1.      In God’s word. Scripture is God-breathed and used for teaching, discipline and encouragement. Immerse yourself in God’s Word prayerfully asking the Holy Spirit to encourage your heart.

2.      In prayer. Spend time alone seeking God, surrendering your dreams and asking for wisdom to discern your next step. Listen more than talk.

3.      In community. Pray for God to surround you with a small community that will encourage your heart, hold you accountable, and covenant to pray for you as you step out in faith. 

Ephesians 3:20 tells us God “is able to do immeasurably more than we can think or imagine” and I can imagine quite a lot! God desires to move in us and through us to do GREAT things for His Kingdom. Trust the dream He’s planted within your heart—that crazy, living color, impossible dream—and trust God to equip you and see it through to the end. 

## 

What are some of the impossible dreams God’s planted within your heart? What’s the biggest obstacle you’re facing right now?

No More Facebook Fuming

...so that you may become blameless and pure, “children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation.” Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky as you hold firmly to the word of life. Philippians 2:14-16a

 

 

Five years ago, I created my Facebook account just to share photos of my granddaughter with extended family members. No more waiting in line for my one-day-developing at the local pharmacy or stalking the mailbox for that thick envelope of glossy paper prints. Facebook and the Internet brought instant cyber-satisfaction.

 

Daily cyber reunions filled my evenings as one-by-one I reconnected with high school and college classmates I hadn't seen or spoken with since graduation. After a few weeks and lengthy notes our daily (hourly) FB status reports kept us connected and informed. It was like reading Christmas letters in little daily spurts.

 

Welcomed or not, Facebook not only gave me a daily dose of friendship, but it gave the writer-me an instant platform from which to share my wordy-passion. Where else could a no-name author share her opinions and stories with an instant world-wide audience? So, I started blogging and thinking out loud on Facebook.

So did the rest of the world.

It's crazy out there in Facebook-land. Everyone has an opinion and many aren't so kind or wise or thoughtful. Many just grumble. I call it Facebook fuming. Some people just love to share the awfulness of their day in hopes that misery loves company and somebody will join them. I don't know. I mean, sometimes it does feels good to vomit all the negativity in some pithy post, but seriously, on a daily or hourly basis? It's just not healthy.

While I mostly process life on my blog, I carefully choose words that tell truth in love and encourage one another because that's how Jesus instructs us to speak. As believers in the gospel (good news) how much more important to encourage one another in the "permanent" written words that can be read repeatedly? We are called to be the Light in the darkness that bring hope to this lost earth. Why then, do some feel it necessary to add to the darkness?

While I'm willing to share life on a heart to heart level - and life doesn't always come with rainbows and roses - let's share life's journey in such as way that encourages one another and brings God glory?

Paul says, "...encourage the disheartened, help the weak, be patient with everyone. Make sure that nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always strive to do what is good for each other and for everyone else. Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus." I Thessalonians 5:14b-18
 

Let's make a conscious effort, whether in a blog post or a status update, that all our words reflect God's goodness in EVERY circumstance, encourage our readers and shine God's Light. Join me?

 

Endless Possibilities

Photo from The United Reformed Church UK

"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations." Jeremiah 1:5 (NIV)

The moment the obstetrician pronounced me mother-to-be my mind swirled with questions and endless possibilities. What will I have, a boy or a girl? Will he favor me? Will she wear her father's dimples? What will he become? Will she chase after God's heart?

Through both pregnancies, I realized I was only a vessel, carrying a child created in the image of my husband and myself, but ultimately formed for God's predestined purpose. They carried an individual purpose planted deep inside that held God's unique fingerprint. It wasn't always evident the first few years of life where innocence prevailed, but rather revealed itself through life's messiest experiences and spiritual battles.

As much as my mother's protective instinct kicked in during their messy brokenness, there were situations where I had no control.

(Fly over to the Christian Children's Authors blog for the rest of the story, won't you?)

 

The Final Chapter

You show that you are a letter from Christ...written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God... 2 Corinthians 3:3 NIV

Bent over two bowls of soup, we share lunch on the hospital tray. He doesn't say much, for what's there to say when you traverse between the bed and a wheelchair day after day? We'd all hoped for a better outcome - one that found restoration either this side of heaven or the other. Instead, I share soup across the table from the shadow of a man I call "Dad." 

He sips and labors over every bite like he's plowing through a banquet-sized meal and I sense his frustration - how little pleasures like eating aren't pleasures anymore, but rather, struggles that steal his breath and I know what he's thinking - "Why go on living?"

My spirit cries within me, "Take him home, Jesus. Take him home!" But Jesus answers, "I'm not finished writing his story just yet. Keep reading." 

I read between the lines through the silence - flashback to a time when I would have wished him gone - not to relieve his pain, but my own - to suffer the same pain his abandonment caused me - wished he'd simply disappear. But he came back. 

And now.

Now, I stand at the bathroom sink scrubbing his dirty dentures and bend over the laundry basket folding his shirts wondering from where in his story this love comes? What makes me want to do these things for him? It's no love I conjured up on my own for this dying man; nothing I ever wrote down or plotted.

This is all part of God's story written between us. The story where forgiveness dissolves diseases like anger and resentment and where Love rewrites the ending, not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God.

And, where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom to love as He loves; to see others as He sees them; to restore all the time and circumstances once stolen. This Spirit breathes warmth and light and new life into our cold, cold hearts, our deepest, darkest thoughts and our shattered families and redeems all things through Christ.

While it's difficult watching Dad slowly whittle away, I pray for patience to watch and wait for God's perfect ending to this final chapter. 

Abba, Father,
While we watch and wait for the end - whether in our own lives or a loved one's life - help us to always look for your story you're writing in the midst of all the suffering. Fill us with your Spirit that helps us see others through your eyes and love as you love. Grant us the patience and understanding during these most difficult times and where forgiveness needs granting, humble us to offer it as it has been freely given to us through your Son, Jesus. Amen



Spinning Free

"Now the Lord is Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom." 2 Corinthians 3:17

Her supple, young hand clasped mine as we wound our way through the back streets to the wooded neighborhood park. We marveled at the sunshine and painted autumn leaves that crunched underneath our feet and agreed, spring was still our favorite season. We claimed our own swing and flew higher than this middle-aged body could stand. So I spun instead; spun on that swing 'til the chains twisted together and my feet rose higher and higher off the ground.

And then, I let go.

(Spin over to Christian Children's Authors Blog for the rest of the story, won't you?)

Cast Out All Fear

"There is no fear in love. But

perfect love drives out fear..."

1 John 4:18a

The shadows rise tall above her bed in the purple room as the night light bleeds shadows across the ceiling. Blessed with an active imagination, monster pictures squelch sleep from her eyes.

 

She braves the shadows and tries to shut them out, but soon her tiny feet pad across the carpet and into my bedroom next door.

 

"Grams? I'm scared," she whispers.

 

(Psssst! Tip toe across the blogosphere with me and read the rest of the story at refresh, won't you? Click here.)

Does God Play Favorites?

"Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings..." Psalm 17:8



 

Let's be honest, we all have our favorites - we like one thing better than another. We prefer blue over green, corn over cauliflower, summer over spring, bugs over baby dolls, and.... well, you get the idea.

 

When it comes to our kids, however, we simply cannot choose one over the other. How can we when they're part of us - a mini me or a mini him - created in our image? Wouldn't that be rejecting ourselves? But, it is possible to make each child the apple of our eye - to know they are precious in our sight - because that's how God treats us.

 

Yes, God plays favorites:

 

"For the Lord's portion is his people, Jacob his alotted inheritance...

He shielded him and cared for him;
he guarded him as the apple of his eye,

like an eagle that stirs up its nest
and hovers over its young,
that spreads its wings to catch them
and carries them aloft." Deuteronomy 32:9-11

 

(Pssst! Meet me over at the Christian Children's Authors blog with many more of God's favored ones, won't you?)

The Greatest Lesson From Fifth Grade

 

 

"Then I’ll tell the world what I find, speak out boldly in public, unembarrassed." Psalm 119:46 The Message

 

Shy. Bashful. Sensitive. These words defined my early childhood and restrained my voice until I met Mr. Peterson, a month after my parents divorced.

I stepped off the noisy yellow bus for the first day of school, careful not to scuff my new shoes on the metal steps. I toted a square metal lunch box that sported the flying car from the latest Disney movie, Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang in one hand and an empty red book bag in the other. I scurried past the grin of the nodding principal, up a short flight of stairs into Mr. Peterson’s fifth grade classroom. The familiar scent of white chalk dust, yellow number two pencils, and pink rubber erasers greeted me along with Mr. Peterson’s warm laughter as I took my seat near the windows.

Laughter filled his classroom and washed over my heart like a healing salve. His silly antics relieved the pain I carried from my broken home. For a few hours a day, I remembered that joy still existed. But there was one problem. Mr. Peterson soon discovered I didn’t laugh out loud.

(Shuffle over to Children's Christian Author's Blog and find out what Mr. Peterson taught me. Just click here.)

God’s Dream for Our Children

“And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men.”

Luke 2:52 NIV

 

I placed my daughter on a plane with strangers heading due east across the Atlantic to Uganda. Luckily for her, the organizer limited parental good-byes to the church parking lot where I choked-back fears and sobs.

She’d been born for this—appointed in my womb for this day—I knew it full well. She befriended the needy since kindergarten and shared the gospel during childhood sleepovers. At age fifteen she announced her call to go to Uganda after two weeks of summer camp. I pondered all these things in my heart. Like Mary mothered Jesus, I didn’t quite understand.

God appoints all of us to a specific purpose – one that corresponds to our heart’s deepest desire – in order to advance His kingdom on earth.

So, as parents, how do we recognize and nurture God’s call in our children’s lives?

Today is a double header...join me for this discussion at Encouragement Café. Just click here.

One Day At Band Camp

"No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it." Hebrews 12:11 NIV

Familiar melodies - the likes of John Phillip Sousa with brass horns and big bass drums - waft through my open windows. I stop whatever I'm doing as memories barrage my mind and listen with a smile.

While some preferred football or field hockey, my kids chose high school marching band. Armed with their brass instruments, a fat chalk stick, and a water bottle they took the field and marched their August days away with precious few hours to spare before the night session began. Fourteen straight days  of band camp in all types of weather, this little army of instrument-playing soldiers followed orders and practiced routines until their music and marching synchronized into one harmonious movement.

Some might argue that marching band is not a sport or that playing music and marching does not afford your child the same disciplines as other sports. I beg to differ.

Put on your marching shoes and join me over at Christian Children's Authors blog for the rest of the story, won't you? Just click here.

Today's a double header. In an hour, you can join me at Encouragement Café for my second blog on nurturing God's dreams in our children. Stay tuned!