The music moved me...I swayed.

A few years ago...quite a few years ago, now that I think about it, I served as the youth leader at the church we attended.  In some way we were introduced to Corinthian Baptist Church in Des Moines, Iowa, and were invited up to a church service during Black History Month...which is February, every year.  The congregation was predominately black.  We were the minority.

We were so excited to go and experience not only a different denomination, but a cultural difference, too.  We.were.blown.away!  The music...the music was tremendous.  Joyful.  We had not heard anything like it.  We had not ever seen anything like it.  They clapped. They swayed. They raised their hands in worship.  It was amazing.  

I've often thought of that church and how they really, really worshiped and did not have any inhibitions in doing so.  They were happy, proud, beautifully in the moment.  

Last week, my husband and I visited a new church after many years of not going to church at all.  We've missed it.  We've missed being part of a church family.  We've been participating in a weekly LIFE group at the home of friends. We were introduced to their church through these weekly group sessions.  

So, we went.  I felt at home immediately!  Greeted in the parking lot with special parking for visitors, greeted at the door, introduced to different areas of the church and handed the bulletin...all while hearing worship music wafting through the doors.  I was eager to go in.

A pretty simple layout; contemporary in design without all the typical emblems and markings of a traditional church.  On the stage was something I was not expecting to see.  Guess what it was?  A mostly black choir.  I don't know what I was expecting or if I had even given it any thought.  I was so happy!  I was so elated.  The music moved me; I felt like I was back at Corinthian Baptist Church where there was an energy and excitement and wholehearted longing to be there and worship and praise His name.  

Now, this is what is so interesting to me.  A difference between the black culture and the white culture that I am accustomed to.  What I know. One not better than the other...but, an observance.  Something I've noticed.  Something I wondered about then, many, many years ago and was reminded of it this past Sunday.  Black people move and express themselves without abandon.  White people seem to hold back.  Why is that?  I have to tell you...I was swaying right along with the best of them.  Back and forth, swaying to the music.  The white people that I saw, stood there, hands clenching the seat back in front of them; no movement.  No joyous abandon.  Why is that?

The music moved me...I swayed...the music moved me!

 

Impromptu get-togethers can be the best get-togethers.

It started with a phone call on the eve of the 4th of July and within minutes, a gathering was coming together.  "Pack the kids, bring some food, and head on down" for an impromptu overnight stay and celebration...country style. 

Sometimes, things just come together, and for me, that's when I know "it's just meant to be".  No fussing, deliberating, second-guessing.  That's how it was for this plan.

Our youngest, Mackenzy, and her fiance, Eric, had already reserved their room and were coming down for a pre-4th party in town.  And so it goes.
Since I've been doing a lot of deep cleaning, not all rooms were available in the "inn" so my three nephews took to the camper to sleep.  Sutton, after hearing a coyote, was somewhat concerned about his safety, but he quickly put it aside and got a good night's sleep.  

The guys, my hubs and brother-in-law, left early to go fishing.  I thought I'd have a bit of quiet time before everyone was up and going.  That was not to be.

Bright and early, I found the cutest little guy coming in the door for a visit.  "Hello Mimaw"  What???  Courtney, my oldest, was out of bed and maneuvering on a day off?  Sure enough and there was my precious Lincoln.  Could the day get any better?

We missed our annual parade watching, choosing to stay home and relax.  A hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs got us started.  The guys came back just in time, and one by one, the boys made their way in from the camper.  It wasn't

long and we were headed out the door for some fun and sun at the pond.  The day was filled with swimming, boating, 4-wheeling and more.  A bonfire closed the night down...and of course, smores.  A perfect 4th.

This past weekend was more of the same...a call here and another there turned out a sweet little gathering of friends and family.  It was New Virginia's annual Old Settler's Celebration and they always have a nice display of fireworks on Saturday night. 

We have a perfect view from our farm and the pond was just the place to be. The coming together was "just meant to be".  Only a few people weren't able to make it.  As the sun set, we chatted over food and drinks.  Jokes and stories, questions and "getting to know each other" for those who were just meeting made for a wonderful evening.  This is the view over the horizon.  Picture perfect don't you think?

Granddaughter, Makenna front left, grandson, Lincoln, back left and Minna Lickiss on the right enjoy getting to know each other.  They sure had fun together.

 

The group gathers for a final photo.  Son, Tanner's classmate, Scott and his family joined us just in time for fireworks.  All was well with my world.  

Back left:  Dan and Uly Gift, hubs, Steve, Maria and Steve.

Front:  Scott, Ashley and Morgan, Tanner, Abbie and Makenna.  Left to early:  Chad and grandson, Lincoln; Kurt, Denette and Minna Lickiss. 

Lessons learned and new understandings...and I have FAITH

My cousin made a comment the other day on Facebook regarding her happiness and contentment in her life.  She finished the statement off with "Thank you, Lord!"  Yes, thank you Lord!

I responded with this, "The hard part is having Faith in Him when things aren't so rosy...but, Faith I do have and that gets me through the rough spots."  And, it does!  

At the end of last year, December 31, 2010, exactly; I took a leap of faith and put my real estate license into referral.  I've never looked back.  I applied for several jobs~now I have an understanding and empathy for the unemployed looking. See, a lesson learned and a new understanding.  I gave it a few weeks, then I had to make a decision.  I also believe that a job never came about because my heart and soul is with my shop and the expansion of it, developing the B&B and making better use of our farm in "today's" market.  

I've never been one to put my goals in writing and map out a plan to achieve them.  This has been no different!  I'm haphazard that way...but, I know my heart and I know where it leads me.  It's not on paper, but it's in my head.  I decided it was time to "follow my own advise" to so many others, "if you do what you love, what makes you tick, success will come!"  AND, I turn 50 this year, and I can't think of a better time or age to make a change!

My hubs and children have not been so "excited" about what I've done, wondering "what is she thinking," I'm sure.  It's not been the wisest thing financially, either.  However, let me stress here, I was in real estate...an independent contractor, and with that, no sales~no moola; so, having a steady and normal income is not something our household was used to.  And, real estate has been ODD at best the past few years.  I enjoyed much success in real estate...it just didn't hold my interest anymore.  As I said, I've not looked back.  

Now, what my hubs has witnessed is how things just come together and weave themselves in and out of our life.  One thing leads to another and things just take shape.  He said to me one day, "it is funny how things just seem to come together for you".  Oh, ye of little faith.  I live with gratitude in my heart, mind talks with God all the time...and Faith.

I'm reminded of this constantly.  As I said, leaving a career in real estate may not have been the best decision~OR, maybe it has been!  When the other stresses and demands on me are gone, I can get to the business of my LIFE.  The life I'm supposed to live...the life I have imagined.  

We also had an investment property that was draining us financially... Something had to go...and it did~we sold it!!!  I hope we never get to where we were again.  I like living a more "authentic" life, where less is more!  Lessons learned and new understandings.

We're strapped like we've never been before.  It's been fun, actually!  I shop wiser, we eat at home more, and my meals are planned with longevity and frugality in mind. We started getting books at the library, instead of purchasing them.  I put things back on the shelf that I otherwise would have purchased without a thought.  We got rid of the frivolity in our household...no home phone, we didn't use it anyway!  The Directv is out of our budget, too.  It's all been well and good.  I actually think I could live without t.v. completely.  I find I'm more active and look forward to creating, rather than watching a program.  It's really, really been good.  And, regular t.v. offers more than just a few channels now...who knew?  If anything, I have gotten "wiser" as to what I spend, where and when.  It's certainly been a time of adjustment...but like I said, it's been really, really good!

I'll sell something from the shop when I'm there working, a forgotten refund check will come; I say "NO" more, rather than "Yes" to everything.  And, I've put it out there.  I'm not ashamed or embarrassed.  I'm willing to sacrifice for the things I really want.  My life is more in balance and I'm happy and content!  

And, I have FAITH.  I always have had.  I've always felt that I had guidance and safety from the Man upstairs.  He's led me thus far and he'll lead me further.  With that said, if I fail, my Faith in Him will continue...it always has.  He's never forsaken me.  I.Have.Been.Tested.  There's always a lesson learned, a new understanding that one would never have had, if they had not walked down a certain path, taken a different turn or kept the monkeys on their back.  

Here's a funny thing...I'm finding dropped coins all the time.  Not just pennies, but nickels and dimes.  Each time I see one, I'm reminded that God does provide.  Sometimes I pick them up and sometimes I leave them, hoping someone who really needs them will find them.  It's just a gentle reminder to me...it inspires me!

"The hard part is having Faith in Him when things aren't so rosy...but, Faith I do have and that gets me through the rough spots."  Lessons learned and new understandings...and, I have FAITH!

Hands...I've always had a fascination with hands.

Hands...I've always had a fascination with hands.  As an adult, I look at my hands and those of my family and I sometimes see the "genetics" of it all.  Who do my hands look like?  My cousin Tony has hands like my uncle's, who has hands like my Grandpa Herb's, his dad.  My Aunt Dorothy's hands remind me of my Grandma Grace's; her mom.  I see that my Aunt Elaine's girls hands look like hers, but hers don't look so much like Grandma Grace's; I sometimes think my hands look like my mom's, but I also think they look like my dad's side of the family.  They inspire me!

Even as a little girl, the crooked fingers of my Great Grandma Heifner and worm-like veins on my Great Grandma Breton's hands were imprinted in my mind.



Grandpa Herb and his mother,
Grandma Heifner

Gnarled and bent to the side, arthritis had Grandma Heifner's hands in it's grip.  At one time straight and feminine, just like she was.  At her death, small and delicate, just like she was.  I was much younger when Grandma Heifner passed away, so I don't remember allot about her everyday comings and goings.  She seemed old to me, even then, BUT, I do remember her hands.



Grandma Breton with
 Gr. Granddaughter Courtney



Grandma Breton's hands were narrow and long, encased with skin as delicate as an onions.  Made transparent in the aging process, it didn't take much to bump and bruise.  Even as her eyesight left her, she was able to crochet~her hands knew what to do...by memory.  It was her hands that traced my youngest daughter, Mackenzy's face as a newborn.  She said she'd be frugal because her nose was small. She could not see then.  I remember her hands.

Their hands, at one time, were strong and capable.  Many a household task was performed with them.  A spanking~here and there, surely met their palm. Cookie dough rolled out, a piece of butterscotch candy put in a grandchild's hand. 

I don't know if either played the piano or any other instrument; sang or were masters at anything, really. But, I'm confident that a nose was wiped, a tear swept away, and hundreds of meals were prepared.  A helping hand was lent, a finger lashing now and again.

A garden planted, fruits and veggies picked and put up for another day.  A baby's back patted, diaper's changed, clothes hung on the line, finger puppets games played.  And, we can't forget a hug and a pat on the back.  

Crooked fingers and worm-like veins were imprinted in my mind.  And, as I sit here, writing this, I'm trying to remember if I knew their hands any other way; and, I don't think I do.

Hands...I've always had a fascination with hands.  They inspire me!

Lunching with my First bestie

Cousin Linda, Debbie & me/Lake Ahquabi

For as far back as I can remember, my cousin, Debbie, was in my life.  Not just as my cousin, but as my bestie!  I really can't think of too many times that an event for either of us was not shared. 

Of course, the daily ying and yang of life occurred away from each other, but, the monumental events:  Christmas, Easter, birthdays, stay overs, and even some vacations and such, included each other.

On a whim, I called and asked her to lunch yesterday, after seeing on Facebook, that she was on vacation from work.  I'm so glad I did.  Even today, our lives are intertwined and we continue to share some of the same events life has to offer. 

As little girls, we played little girl games.  We stayed over at Grandma's house together, stayed up all night playing games, giggling and in our teens, making calls to teen lines.  I witnessed her driving the mini bike into the fence and she stood up with me getting married(the 1st time).  I think we fell off Lucky, the pony together and were teased incessantly by our uncle Jack and Jerry.  I think Debbie was tormented by "bugs" and me, I screamed "icky acky"as I was placed in amongst a pasture of horse manure. 

Debbie's parents belonged to a camping group and I was often invited to go along on these camping events.  These were some of the best times of my childhood.  Teen dances...man, what a treat!  The venue would be crowded with 13, 14, 15 year olds.  Dancing 'til we couldn't dance no more...or, maybe the music stopped.  I can't really remember.  All I remember is that is was FUN!

During this same time frame, Debbie would come and stay overnight.  Time and again.  And, time and again, it seemed something strange would happen.  Ummmm, for instance, we were awakened by lights flashing and cops knocking at our door when our car was stolen, tornadoes hit, a man was found in our ditch passed.  She thought of herself as a "jinx".  It was very strange.

One Easter she spent the night with us.  We were up after the Easter Bunny made an appearance.  I can remember we were playing some game on the kitchen floor and one of us saw an Easter Egg that had been hidden.  Well, we started looking and finding and of course, eating them. 

We had our children together.  I babysat for her and her for me.  We shared the deaths of our grandparents and an aunt together.  Although our lives somewhat went their separate ways, I know my love for her never did!  I knew I'd always be there for her if she needed it and her me.  Yesterday was just one of those days.  She didn't really know it, but I'm glad it worked out.  I needed a little "cousin time."  Being one to believe that things work out the way the are supposed to, I found that, once again, the stars aligned again for me when I needed it.

After all, who else shares the same stories as you do.  The same order or understanding of events; a timeline that curves and sways in and out of life's moments together, more than a family member.  For me, it was my cousin, Debbie.  We entertained at the Polk County home with my church...we STILL can do the motions to Put Your Hand in the Hand of the Man Who Stills the Waters, Deep and Wide and others.  And, let me tell you, it's not beyond us to step into those motions and song with even a mention of those times.  Christmas Pageants...memorizing our verses.  Selling "goods" to raise money to go to church camp. 

As we hit our fifties together...one before the other, but I won't mention details, we found ourselves still in sync with each other.  Yesterday's topics:  menopause and grandchildren.  We have gracefully moved into the next phase of our lives.  It's a most interesting time for sure. 

There are many other moments, events, ups and downs.  I'll save them in my memory bank and bring them out at another time. 

For now, for as far back as I can remember, my cousin, Debbie, was in my life. Not just as my cousin, but as my bestie! I really can't think of too many times that an event for either of us was not shared...

Don't Hog Your Journey...



My cousins, lil sis and me, circa 1968...
we're each a part of the others journey



"Don't hog your journey, it's not just for you." As I was listening to the Today show while working, Hoda Kotb was sharing a story. While on a plane, she was visiting with the gentleman sitting beside her. Chit-chatting away, she had mentioned she had had breast cancer. She asked him not to think of that if he ever thought of her in the future. He turned to her and said, "Don't hog your journey, it's not just for you." I kept thinking of that statement and have decided that I agree with it. What if no one ever shared their story~their journey...good or bad. My world would certainly not be as rich and full as it is now. I would not know of another's happiness, adventures, struggles. I would not be who I am today without knowing of another's journey.

Hoda's story is great, and deep, and more than just her breast cancer...for sure! We are all more than just one part. We are, shall we say, the sum of all our parts. I am a woman, a mother, a wife, a daughter an entrepreneur...the list goes on and on. But, it's the sum of all of these things that makes me who I am today. I enjoy sharing my journey...it gives me great pleasure and I hope it adds to your journey, too.


The other day, I stopped by the "Music in the Park" event held at the city park in town. In amongst the music...which was very enjoyable, I heard someone get up and give a testimonial. I wonder, did his journey make a difference to someone else in the crowd. It did mine and I'm sure another's. Then I have to think...what if he didn't share his "journey"? What if he kept it to himself...I would not have known the depth of his story...his courage in sharing it. It has stuck with me...and, it removed me from my cares and woes and opened my mind, my heart, to another's struggles and triumphs.


Life is a Journey, isn't it? Sometimes we're on a mountain, sometimes we're in a valley. Most of the time, I'd guess we're just motating along on the plaines. Enjoying life, taking one day at a time, doing what needs to be done and just cruising along. To me, it's the mountains and valleys that we grow the most. We are pushed to our limit, only to find our limit can be pushed. We read something or hear of someone else's journey and we gain strength from it. We realize we're not alone. Somehow, we come out on the other side because of it...but don't necassarily understand where it came from. What if no one shared their journey? Who would be a better, stronger, wiser person because of your journey? Maybe your journey is told by your actions. How you reach out to your community members, volunteering, donating, a struggle overcome. Our journey's are shared in many different ways. The key is that it's shared.


"Don't hog your journey, it's not just for you." I would not be who I am today without knowing of another's journey. And this folks, is the view from my front porch.


Beth Voltmer lives on a farm in rural New Virginia

Great time with a Great Friend

It was a great time, shared with a great friend. I decided to try my hand at camping alone, my hubby has cows he needs to tend to, and my job allows me to be anywhere and conduct business. So, with a little planning, a date picked out, groceries purchased, clothes packed...I was off and pulling the rig behind me (followed by the hubby...he had to show me how to set up).

While in the midst of making my camping plans, I remembered my friend, Cindy, had purchased her own camper, so, I did what any good friend would do. I invited her to join me. So the adventure unfolds...

Steve left on Sunday morning, so that meant I had two whole days by myself, until Cindy made her way down. What to do, what to do? I had so many ideas and plans of things I wanted to get done. I didn't know where to start.

I finally decided to try my hand at watercolors. Not too bad, not too bad! It was fun and I lost myself in what I was doing. I was surprised at how enjoyable it was. Sitting at my camper table, taking in the views of the lake, I painted a landscape. Set it aside...I'd come back and tweak it later. I used my pencil to outline a rooster...what did I want it to look like? What colors would I use and how would I initiate texture into the painting? How would it all come together? My first attempt at watercolors was successful, enjoyable and something I wanted to accomplish. I'll come back to it again, and again, and again...I liked it just that much!

It was so fun, not a care in the world! No laundry to worry about, didn't have to concern myself with a meal for anyone. I was one relaxed gal. I pondered, I cleaned, I rearranged the camper (it needed to be done). My afternoon was filled with whatever tripped my trigger...which really wasn't much, but, it was nice! It was refreshing! it was liberating!

The adventure began when Cindy rolled in. I giggle now, just thinking about it. WHAT IS IT THAT IS SOOOOO DARN DIFFICULT TO BACK A CAMPER...ANYTHING FOR THAT MATTER, INTO A NICE BIG PARKING SPOT? We both new what had to be done, we both new how to do it. But, then we noticed a real nice, older gentleman watching us. We, being the big hearted gals that we are, thought that maybe he had some testosterone induced need to come and help these 'damsels in distress'. So, we just played up to it and sure enough...he came over, beat on his chest and directed Cindy into her spot. We played our cards right on that one!

Of course, I'm just being silly. We were very appreciative of his help. And, as I mentioned, we knew what to do...JUST COULDN'T DO IT!!! This sweet man insisted upon helping us set up the camper. "Verle" was his name. Pretty soon, we waved his sweet wife over to join us at the picnic table. Shirley came right over and we had an extremely nice visit. Verle and Shirl went back to their camper and Cindy and I had supper in mine. Needless to say, it had to be the hottest day of the year so far, and we were hot, sweaty and exhausted.

Our two day adventure took us to Van Buren county one day and into Missouri the next. Yes, I did say Missouri. Jamesport, Missouri to be exact. A little shopping along the way, a stop here and there and lots and lots of talking and laughing.

Once again, I found myself basking in the joy of taking the road less travelled. My cohort in crime likes to do that, too. And so, there we were, driving along the back roads of southern Iowa and Northern Missouri. Gentle curves, rolling blacktop, grassy hillsides dotted with cows and the occasional sheep. A great time, shared with a great friend...taking the road less travelled and enjoying the adventure called life.