Background Slice

For those of you unfamiliar with my current circumstances, let me catch you up. Since graduating from college in 1996, I have moved from Provo to Olympia, WA and back home to Chesapeake, VA. I have lived here for the past eight years. Greg, my husband, and I are the joyful parents of five unique and wonderful children. After 11 1/2 years of being a stay-at-home Mom, I ventured out in to the work place pursuing a love of all things computer. I had been working for over a year when my life changed suddenly and drastically.
Greg and I are very spiritual people. We believe in a loving Heavenly Father who guides us in this life to those choices that are best. We also believe He inspires us as to His will for our lives. Such inspiration came the beginning of April of 2008. After much fasting and earnest prayer, we petitioned to intervene in the custody of my brother's four young children. I won't include here the details of why this was necessary. It is sufficient to say it was the Lord's will. The petition was granted on April 30, 2008 and we were given sole custody of these children. I am now the exhausted stay-at-home mother of nine until the court says otherwise. The journey can be read in the slices below.

6.03.2008

The Fruit Slice

The scriptures state you may know a person by the fruits of his labor. I was reassured today my labor is bearing good fruit and is therefore good labor. Remember the five year old I was trying to teach to love, today I saw progress. She kicked her brother. Your first thought may be, "Not exactly progress." I asked a witness if it was and accident or on purpose. The five year old, not the witness, spoke up. "It was on purpose." I was dumbfounded. What child, when asked, admits to kicking another on purpose and then follows it with a very sincere apology?
I punished her - it was a bad kick to the face - but I went a little easier on her. I explained that the first step is admitting you did something wrong. The next step is not doing it again. She took her punishment and then went on playing. Maybe, somewhere in her little mind, she realizes the old ways aren't the best ways or the happiest ways.

Happiness is. . . the sweet smell of blossoms on the fruit tree.
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