Picture This!

I can remember this like it was yesterday. Our youngest son, Michael, graduated in 2008. This was the scene I created for his high school homecoming the fall before. I collect old stuff...my husband calls "junk" but to me it is nostagia. The truck is not ours (darn it!) but everything else is. I love old picnic hampers and tins from the 40's & 50's. When I look at this picture, I can see girls in there poodle skirts and guys in leather jackets. And the fall flowers and pumpkins give me a feeling that fall is not far away. Hey!

525,600 minutes

How do you measure your life in a year? That's five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes to be exact. Sounds like alot, doesn't it? If I asked you what you have been doing for the last sixty minutes, what could you tell me? Watch some t.v. or read a book? Talk on the telephone, mostly talking about someone whose business is not your own?

What about the words you spoke in the past sixty minutes? We're they words of kindness, cheerfulness or forgiveness?

How many minutes did you spend telling someone that you loved them?

These are pretty hard questions, aren't they?

Our lives are a gift from God. He gave us the very breath we breathe. Each one of us are chosen for His pleasure. How do you think He measures our life?

Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes...how do you measure them?

We returned last night from a long weekend in Dallas, Texas and while it is always good to go away for a few days, it seems that when you get home there is so much to do, it makes you wonder if it was really worth it. Our son, the "brainchild", had the run of the place while we were a away, and let me just say, he didn't exactly keep things tidy! Between dishes and clothes, it will take me most of this day to get things in order. Besides this, I find it so hard to get back in the swing of things after having been "on holiday". But, once things are in order and I can sit back down and blog abit about our trip, I will be very happy to have the memories.

What My Home Means To Me

This is where I live. It's home to me, my husband Johnny and our youngest son, Michael. To anyone else, it seems plain, but to us, it is a remarkable piece of evidence showing the end product of perseverance and hope. Without hope, this might have never been our home. Without perseverance, it may have never existed as it is. I hoped and I strived for a home. What is home? It is where you can come and be comfortably at ease. You do not have to "be" anything but yourself. I love coming here after being away. Just knowing that this place is waiting for me gives me great peace. I am sheltered here. I am warm. It beacons me to come and take refuge from a world outside its doors that is often unbearable. The words spoken by those who dwell here bring me peace and happiness. I have lived in many places, some much grander than this , some not so much. But, walls and brick don't mean anything without the people within their boundaries. My family makes this place a real home.

This is the beginning of my personal blog. I have followed many, loved many, and gained a different perspective of how I can touch the lives of others. I am excited about where this new road will lead and I look forward to meeting new friends along the way while reconnecting with those in my past. First things first, I am not a writer. I just try to express myself the best I can. But I think that is the most wonderful part of being a "blogger". It's you in your rarest form. And I don't have to apologize for it. If someone doesn't like what I write, well then, click the button and escape. I don't say this to scare you, by no means at all. I just want to have some fun and share my hearts desires with snippetts of what it is to be me. My family is most important! Second, my love for children, old folks, those less fortunate than I, and the helpless. I so don't want to disappoint anyone, what I blog about may not be interesting to anyone but me. So, with all this said and done, here we go!