In my home, holiday decorations don’t change based on what is popular on Pinterest. The angel my grandmother painted, the beaded Christmas tree my sister made, a few handmade “Snowfolk” (the first repurposed decor items I sold on Etsy), and a selection of items that my 3-yr-old grand-daughter can arrange make my holiday season special every year.

Laurie is a writer and junque-hunter living in Springdale, Arkansas with her husband, son and three goofy cats. She raises kids and chickens and makes messes in her craft room. She loves to create good food, pretty gardens, and happy kids. But when that doesn’t happen as planned she simply reads about them on Pinterest. You can follow Laurie at See Laurie Write and Junque Rethunque.

Written by Amanda Farris of Embracing Grace

Have you ever been so overwhelmed with thankfulness that you just couldn’t contain it and felt there was no possible way to express your gratitude?

• Serve food (Keep it simple if it is a large group. We did BBQ)
• Spend some time thinking about a creative way to thank them. What is a small token that you could give to accompany your presentation ceremony? Is there a funny or heartfelt story that you could tell?
• Send out real invites letting them know they are the guest of honor and their presence is requested at a Thank You dinner.
• Enjoy yourself! Look them in the eyes, hug them tight and tell them THANK YOU!
• HAVE FUN!

Amanda Farris is a wife to her super hero hunk of a husband and a mother to 3 little kiddos. Amanda is a teacher/coach who hung up her coaching whistle after she got promoted to motherhood. She is a runner who loves all things sports and outdoors. She loves early morning traveling, long coffee chats with her husband, and fresh flowers on her table. She is an adventurer at heart and has a great talent of unintentionally becoming over-busy (that’s a bad thing). So she is constantly reevaluating her life priorities which keeps her on her toes and helps her to live life passionately and deliberately. You can find her occasionally blogging at www.embracinggrace.org. Come Join the Adventure.

Written by Rebekah Beene

Thanksgiving is approaching and I admit I love that holiday. I’m already thinking about what to cook. I also have something else to admit – I love leftovers. My favorite holiday breakfast is either potato salad or broccoli rice casserole! I know! You’re thinking I’m crazy, but I just like both dishes and rarely cook them, so they are real treats.

Leftovers are often something left in the fridge until they’re no longer recognizable.  They may have been carefully dished into a bowl, covered tightly and placed into the back of the fridge.  Alas they are left there to never be seen or heard from again.  At least not until the fridge is cleaned out after the holiday.

When thinking of leftovers, I know that sometimes we can get the feeling that we’re leftovers. Ever feel that way? Maybe you once felt like you were the star dish at the head table, but now you’re relegated to the back in the dark recesses of life. You got boxed up and left out for the dogs. You may still feel that you have much to contribute, but you feel you’ve been silenced, discarded and removed. Instead of the best dish in the finest container, you may indeed believe you are the dregs of a once vital life.

God speaks to my heart: My precious child, you are indeed My star! You are a magnificent example of all that I AM to the believer. You are more than a cast off, richer than a hand me down, and finer than the most expensive dish ever served. You are a one of a kind production.  You may have been born in obscurity but you are destined to dwell in the light of My glory! I make no mistakes, I create no leftovers and I have wonderful plans for your life. If you will trust ME and live in My light, you will grow in grace, grow in beauty and become a beautiful accessory to the Gospel.

Oh beloved, God loves you and He’s for you – that’s why He wants you to show forth the praises of the One Who has called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.

Psalm 21:6 You have endowed him with eternal blessings and given him the joy of Your presence.

1 Samuel 2:8 He raises the poor from the dust, He lifts the needy from the ash heap to make them sit with nobles, and inherit a seat of honor; For the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s, And He set the world on them.
Psalm 26:7 That I may proclaim with the voice of thanksgiving And declare all Your wonders.

In a Christian Women’s meeting in 1983, Rebekah was given a prophetic message that she would write books. At that time she was a 26 year old mother of three small children. She went home and shared that message with her husband, but never told anyone else. She literally forgot about it while raising children and following her husband in ministry.

Several years ago she began writing stories about special holiday memories and travels, sharing God’s love and care through each story. As she got involved with social media sites, she told the Lord she would give Him the rights to that media. She began by writing devotionals daily on her media page. Through those devotionals God began to speak to hurting hearts and the idea to put those devotionals into a book was born. God has gifted Rebekah with the ability to look at the natural and see the supernatural.

Both Rebekah and her husband Danny have a heart to share the Gospel and the riches of life in Christ to everyone they meet. They have served in the local church and in ministry to motorcyclists. Danny is an ordained minister and they both have been Bible study teachers for many years. Rebekah also speaks at women’s retreats and conferences.

Rebekah and her husband have been married for 40 years and have three grown children and five grandchildren. Rebekah writes on her blog Oh Beloved.

By  Robin Melton of Enchanted Excurse

Robin Melton writes the blog, Enchanted Excurse. When she is not writing on her blog, she is either taking photos or singing. One of the genres she enjoys reading and watching are fantasy/sci-fi movies. She also enjoys spending time with her husband Codey, and her two male kitties named Zealand and Granger.  If you are ever bored, follow her on twitter @EnchantedXcurse for some nonsense fun.

Fear of Missing Out
Written by Brittney Lee of Razorback Britt

I’m not a scaredy-cat. Over the last several years, I’ve conquered plenty of fears. I can now squish a spider, I’ve killed a snake (we live in the country, so they are frequent visitors!), I sleep through thunderstorms, and I can eat dinner out alone. However, I’m struggling with one fear.

I call this fear FOMO: Fear Of Missing Out.

It’s real. I feel this fear every time I get an invitation for a lunch date, a concert, a girls’ night out, a charity event. This fear results in overcommitting myself to the point that I’m contemplating buying more socks because I don’t know when I’ll squeeze in a load of laundry.

See, I have some pretty great people in my life. And these lovely people do awesome things. My husband likes to go play tennis. A friend started teaching a Bible study. Another friend loves musicals. Another friend runs. My mom enjoys shopping. Here is where the problem comes in: They all want me to be a part of this fun with them.

My husband wants to play tennis Wednesday evening after work. My friend’s Bible study is also Wednesday evening.Ok….I’ll go to Bible study and then I’ll play tennis. Problem solved. For today.

Then, “musical friend” invites me to a show next Saturday.“Runner friend” asked me to do a 5k with her that very samemorning. Mom wants to check out a new boutique in town that afternoon. Ok, I’ll squeeze it all in on Saturday. First the 5k, then shopping with mom, then the musical. Sure, all of this makes for a fun “Weekend Recap” blog post over at Razorback Britt, but it’s exhausting.

I can’t keep it up.

Here is my problem: It’s all fun stuff. These people are allwonderful people I want to spend time with. But it never fails:everything happens at the same time!

It’s so tough. I hate the thought of missing out on something fun.I despise the idea of disappointing someone. However, I’m learning I have to prioritize my time for my sanity.

Here is my magic word to help me rid myself of FOMO: margin. See, papers have margins for a reason. The space at the top and sides of the paper make it easier for you to read theimportant stuff writtenon the page. The white space gives your eye a place to go to take breaks. I need margin in my life. I have to say “No!” to things that sound fun. I have to say “No!” to people I love spending time with. But I have to say “No!” I need that margin to make the important stuff matter.

I’m trying a new thing where I keep at least one weekend each month open, purposefully not making plans. When those weekends roll around, I can fill them with spontaneous fun, necessary tasks, or things that I want to do just for me.

I’m also keeping one night a week open. Mondays are my “margin” nights. I don’t care what Bible study/charity event/musical you invite me to…if it’s a Monday, I’m saying “No!” to you. Mondays are my margin.

The funny thing is, the more I’m saying “No!” the easier it rolls off my tongue. The more margins I create in my life, the more I crave that down time.

Do you suffer from Fear Of Missing Out? FOMO can be cured with a simple two letter word. Say “No!” to something. Give it a try. Create some margin. You need it. Your family needs it.Your home needs it.

My name is Brittney. And I’m overcoming FOMO every day.

Brittney blogs at Razorback Britt about her life, her furbabyMikey, and her love of Zumba. She also does this 9-5 thing to pay the bills over at U-Pack, so if you are moving, she’s your girl.

Unwelcome Visitors
Written by Dorothy Johnson of Reflections from Dorothy’s Ridge

You won’t find any fake spider webs and hairy-legged creatures among my fall decorations. I don’t like spiders. I tolerate them outside because they get rid of bugs, but I don’t want to share my dwelling with them. Unfortunately, this is the time of year when they move indoors. At my house, that’s hazardous to their health. I will step on spiders that trespass.

My mother thought a spider might have visited me in my crib when I was a toddler. She said they found me hysterical one night and that it took a long time to settle me down. Afterwards I was terrified of spiders. I’m glad I can’t remember it.

I took this picture through a store window.

That was as close as I wanted to be to even a fake spider.

When I was in my 20s, teased hair was in vogue, and sophisticated women wore beehive hairdos. The story circulated that someone kept her hair teased for so long that a black widow spider built a nest in it. You know the rest. I’m certain there was a funeral involved.

Outside, I can practice Live and Let Live with spiders. I appreciate their beautiful webs and the colors of some garden arachnids. But if I walk into a spider web, I go into a frenzy to be sure the critter didn’t drop into my hair.

These magnificent photos were takenby my neighbor, Cissy Rucker,in her yard next door to me.

Before Terry and I were married, I was reading in bed one night and looked over to find a big, ugly wood spider sitting on the pillow next to me. I didn’t think. I reacted. I flung that pillow and spider across the room, found a shoe and beat him to death. My throat still gets tight when I think about it. Maybe he was harmless, but I wasn’t interested in reading to him.

Several years ago, when a tarantula ventured into our kitchen from the garage, Terry swept him out with the broom. He felt bad about hurting Mr. T in the process. I DID NOT. If you had seen that hairy thing scurry and jump across my kitchen floor, you’d understand. I’ve read that their bites won’t kill you, but they HURT.

As a mother and grandmother, I learned to manage my fear. I can dispatch an arachnid unemotionally when necessary – for the sake of the children. I want them to appreciate our natural bug zappers.

What about you? Do you have any creepy-crawlie stories?

God made the wild animals according to their kinds, the livestock according to their kinds, and all the creatures that move along the ground according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good. Gen. 1:25

 I’m an Arkansas girl who should have been interviewed for Gail Sheehy’s book PASSAGES. I’ve taught junior high school English, spent time at home raising kids, worked as a writer and an associate editor at Leisure Arts, and functioned as a liaison to the community and cardiologists at Baptist Health. Now I’m trying my hand at writing fiction, poetry and a blog.

Ornithophobia

 

Shannon is a 30-something Mom to 5 beautiful children. Yes, 5! You could call it a modern day version of yours, mine, and ours. Her blended family of 7 keeps her on her toes and on the go. Add in working from home as a legal secretary and quickly you’ll see her life is crazy and often chaotic, but she wouldn’t trade one sarcastic moment of it. Her blog, Still Seeking Martha is just a place she goes to share the ups & downs of blended mommyhood, like mowing what feels like 127 acres with a push mower, favorite foods and recipes, mostly cake, and sometimes some DIY projects like great teaching tools. You can stalk Shannon at http://stillseekingmartha.blogspot.com, on Facebook, Twitter, or just email her at seekingmartha@gmail.com.

Lilapsophobia
Written by Katherine Trauger

My fear started when my mom was little.

My mom was the youngest of six much older children.

Life was hard because of the Great Depression and her daddy had died
after surgery when she was only six.

Imagine the feeling of events spinning totally out of your hands while
you watch: no daddy, nothing to do, shooed away during the bustle of
family life. . . .

My mom had exactly two jobs around the house when she was little.

One job was very important, and quite doable, which gave her some
sense of existence: opening the poison-ivy-covered gate when the
family traveled with the car. She was not allergic to it. Ever. So as
a small child, she braved the dangerous vine.

Her other job was to watch for tornadoes while the men were in the
fields and to run, screaming, to them if one was coming.

What were her brothers thinking? Was it funny to scare a much younger,
perhaps bothersome, sister?

Whatever it was, the combination of feeling helpless/useless, and of
not knowing what kind of bogey she was looking for when she watched
for tornadoes, produced in my mom an irrational fear of them that she
passed on to me, by osmosis.

It did not help that during my formative years we lived near Kansas
City, directly in “tornado alley”, as much of the Midwest is called.

And by irrational fear, I mean things like scurrying and gathering
everything you own, safe-guarding it under tables if the weather was
“murky”. I mean, as a young child, I knew how to ID “tornado weather”
by glancing at the sky. I mean, I learned Central Missouri geography
at age eight, by listening to weather reports all night long, on a
small transistor radio in the basement.

Oh, yes, there was the basement.

But before that, there was the Big One.

Back in the mid-fifties, an enormous tornado hit a suburb of Kansas
City, called “Ruskin Heights”. Many died. Amazing, heart-wrenching
stories survive to this day, in a sort of fraternity of the vortex, or
something, with its own Website and a beautiful, tree-lined memorial
to the dead on the High School campus, where the tornado had blown
away so many signs of life.

We owe our lives to a Mr. Audsley, a radio announcer who broke the
rules, risking his job, that night, by announcing the approach of the
massive funnel, giving those who happened to be listening, a chance to
take cover.

Much has changed since then, such as tornado sirens in most towns, new
guidelines for announcers allowing weather warnings, and most homes in
that area have basements or storm cellars.

Like the one my parents built, soon after the Big One.

But tornadoes are still about the same.

And my fear was about the same—as my mother’s.

And I knew if I wasn’t careful I’d pass it down to my kids, and I did
not want that.

So I prayed and tried not to tremble. I tried hard to be casual. I
made a few strict tornado rules, but kept them so routine, I wondered
if my kids would ever actually take cover if I ever actually told them
they must.

Or if they’d only yawn and look at me with that look.

But I was secretly still scared stiff. Panicky. Eyes darting and
checking that sky when the kids weren’t looking. Strictly enforcing my
rules for safety when they were.

Until one night, when I had a disturbing dream. I was in a tornado in
my dream and my children were separated from me. I tried all night to
find them in the dark and rain and dangerous winds, but not until it
was over did they appear, safe in a very unsafe place, in the trunk of
a car that was all bashed in. Weird.

Then there was another dream another night and my kids were safe
again, in another crazy-dangerous place.

And again.

Third time’s a charm; I got the message God was sending me. He says He
talks to us in our dreams and I was hearing Him unmistakably: YOUR
KIDS ARE SAFE.

These days I no longer have that fear. These days, I’m the go-to girl
for tornadoes, housing the fearful and their children in my own home,
reassuring, promising safety I’m not exactly sure of, but at the same
time, of which I am very sure.

I even went through hurricane Katrina, when we lived in Mississippi
for two years, with hardly a tremor of soul, although tornadoes span
all around me all night and hubs was out of town.

Unscathed, I was, then, and am, now.

Still have all those rules, though.

I wish I had personal shots of a tornado, but I’m not THAT brave, yet! 🙂

Katharine is a retired, 25-year, home educator of six children,
amateur herbalist, and magazine writer, taking a break to develop a
web presence and write books. She and her forester/pastor husband live
beautiful Delight, Arakansas. She enjoys gardening, cooking, canning,
reading, and old movies with popcorn.