The First Signs of Spring

It's been a while, but I actually heard it today.  One of the first signs of Spring here in our home is the sound of kids outside running between my yard and our friend's right next door.  They were playing baby dolls, soccer, bey blades and I got to witness all of it while swinging on my front porch swing.

This year we have a new addition to the porch furniture that we put out, although I guess it's not so much furniture as an ornament.  David bought me a beautiful star for the front of the house!  It's something I've been wanting for years, but you know, like most ornamental things it isn't high on the list of priorities.  But thanks to my loving husband, it's hanging high up on our house and looks wonderful!

 On one of our warmer days David and I took the kids and the dogs over to Parvin State Park for a walk around the lake.  We were also interested to see what kind of damage had been done from the summer Derecho.  Since Hercules (aka - white lightning) needs some socializing, we thought this would be a good first step to see how he acted when we would encounter other people on the trail.  He did surprisingly well, and much to my surprise he didn't eat anyone!

Watching the geese!

 We took our usual path which leads around the lake and more importantly the path takes us right next to a playground where the kids like to stop and play for a while before continuing the rest of the way

We could see where the winds had knocked over quite a few trees, and were impressed with the trees that were just completely uprooted. 

Hooray for getting out some energy:)

Last year was Zachary's first time to enter the Pinewood Derby race that is held at our church each year; and believe it or not, he won third place!  This year Julia is old enough to join in the fun, and Pop-Pop bought them each a car and has helped them start to get them ready.  They were ready for painting, so Daddy helped the kids get their groove on, here's a few pictures of the fun!

 That's one brave Daddy letting the kids use spray paint:)

And here's one of Brandon saying, "My NEVER get to paint!"

So I quickly found him an old matchbox car that he could use the leftover spray paint and go to town!  He was one happy little boy after that!

He couldn't decide which color to paint the car, so he did a little pink and a little blue!  I can't believe just how big Brandon is getting and I love watching him being a part of what the big kids are doing.









I am leaving you with a picture of my latest rescue project:)  Hercules is now adjusted to our family and is getting ready to be neutered and go to handling school so he stops scaring our family and friends!  He is gorgeous, isn't he?


Come on Spring, we're ready for you!

On The Move Again

I'll never forget my first impression of the house at 20 Salem Avenue, it was horrible!  Especially compared to the house we were currently living in.  When I was nine years old my Dad got the urge to build a house, and to move back to and live in the town where he grew up.  Mom was a good sport, or at least she seemed to be and in the space of 11 months my parents went from digging a basement to having a beautiful two story Cape Cod style house, complete with master bedroom, whirlpool tub, brand new everything; it was beautiful!

The skinny guy in the white t shirt, standing far right, is my Dad!

My Mom and me, across the street from our new house was my Grandparent's home.  I spent lots of time there since I was too small to be around the gaping basement hole.  Mom always made sure she had time for me throughout the process of building the new house.

The shell for the new house, so much work, but it was beautiful!

Alas, it was not meant to be, and just a few years after building their dream home, they were humbled and forced to sell it, or lose it to a bankruptcy and foreclosure.  Still wanting to stay in Newfield, they searched for a home that would meet our needs and yet fit our budget, which was practically nothing at the time.  The Lord is good, and he provided a home, which had been in town longer than most of its residents, but one that we had never even noticed.  There was a great reason for not ever noticing it before; not only was it over 100 years old, but the bushes and ivy that surrounded the home had it almost completely blocked from view.  Even though the house sat on a corner lot practically in the center of town, hardly anyone knew it was there!

The price was right, we moved in, and I was horrified.  In a home that is over 100 years old, not much is working the way it should be and to say the house needed some sprucing up would be an understatement.  I can remember that most of the windows no longer opened, and the ones that did were still using a rope and weight system and had imperfections in the glass that only a house with the original 100 year old window panes would have.  My mom claimed it had character, I claimed it was the house from hell.  Everything I touched fell apart in my hand, Dad spent most of his time rewiring, re plumbing and just generally trying to keep ahead of the things that were falling apart!

Before we moved in the front porch was completely blocked by Ewe bushes that reached the porch roof, blocking the view of the front of the house!  You can see the small shed on the right side of the property.  When the house looked like this, my favorite part were the gorgeous flower beds.  When all else failed, Mom made sure the flower beds were overflowing with amazing flowers!

Dad built the island in the middle so that we would have more counter space.  It was small, but more than enough for our little family of three.  We painted, wallpapered and soon it was a home. 

My other favorite feature of the house were the original windows which almost reached the floor, and the wide floor trim that added so much character to the rooms.

The house had a small shed on the property, clapboard siding that had been painted so many times it was peeling and the paint was curling back in large chunks.  On the very back of the shed was a small door that opened up to a little area to keep garden tools.  Mom sent me on an errand that involved me opening that door.  I jiggled it a big, the handle was really old and much to my surprise the entire door came off in my hand.  Imagine her surprise when I walked back to the main part of the house with the entire door in my hand! The stories are endless, but here is one that stands out in my mind the most.

We had an amazing garden at this house, and Dad had even started a compost pile so we could make some rich soil to use throughout the yard and in the garden.  For whatever reason, Dad had dumped some ashes into the compost pile after he had cleaned out the wood stove, and none of us realized that they weren't quite cooled off.  As I was walking by the kitchen window shortly after Dad made his deposit I noticed something odd in the back yard; the compost pile was on fire!  I quickly ran outside and grabbed the hose, pulled it out as close to the compost pile as I could and attempted to put the small fire out.  At first the water was coming out just fine, but suddenly it slowed to a trickle.  Dad yelled for me to check the basement and see if I could find a leak anywhere.  I made it down the steps just in time to see one of the water pipes burst and floods of water start pouring onto the basement floor!!  Dad got the water turned off and we had a laugh, shook our heads and then sighed; nothing was easy in that house when we first moved in.

Over the years improvements were made, old hardwood floors refinished, new plumbing and wiring put in, a new roof put on; and then in 2002 my parents started an addition to the house which doubled its size.  A new gorgeous kitchen was high on the list, along with a sun room, and the final crowning jewel was the pool.

Now, 21 years after we first moved into the house, my parents are on the move again!  They will be totally recreating yet another house (something they've gotten very good at over these years), and I'm sure it will be just as beautiful as the house on 20 Salem Avenue ended up being.  The day that my parents went to settlement, I went over to the house to walk through the empty rooms one last time on my own.  Even though I haven't lived in the house for 10 years now, it was always home.  I sat in what used to be the living room remembering all the wonderful times we had there as a family.  I sat on the floor in my old room, looking out the window that I would sit at for hours while I read books, or wrote in my journal, wondering what my future would hold. And I sat in what was my parents old room remembering sitting on Mom's hope chest while she curled her hair, listening to the birds out her window singing, and Mom would always whistle while getting ready in the morning.

The very last thing I did was sit on the front porch swing.  Mom, Dad and I would sit there for hours in the evening, waving to friends and family who happened by.  And it was the perfect spot to do my morning Bible reading, the sun was always really warm and it was a great way to start the day.  And it was a great way to say goodbye.   

Missing Parts

Have you ever had pain somewhere in your body, but nothing to show for it?  I have; since I was about 16 years old now I've had some kind of abdominal pain.  It ranged from a dull ache all the time, to drop  me to my knees painful.  I found out that at 16 I had my first ovarian cyst rupture, hence the dropping to the floor in pain (amazing how having children raises your pain tolerance level a bit, I rarely drop to the floor anymore!).

Cysts are sneaky things, and the pain occurs mostly when they rupture; by the time anyone goes looking for said cyst, it has disappeared all together, leaving nothing traceable to prove the pain was there.  And so it went for the past 17 years.  Every once in a while an ultrasound would show that I had a few cysts waiting in the wings, often making me feel like a ticking time bomb!  When the cysts began forming and rupturing every single month, they ceased being pesky and started being ridiculous.  My midwife and I talked about the options; birth control (which made my migraines worse), live with it (which I chose for several years after she and I spoke about it) or surgery.

Once I reached the end of my rope with the cysts, I contacted an amazing OB/GYN to discuss surgery.  I guess the major deciding factor was that we were done having children and I was over being in pain.  If I chose to have my ovaries out prior to this, there wouldn't be any little Hendershott kids running around:)  I was nervous to talk to the doctor though, after all, you don't just walk into your OB office and request that he remove your ovaries like you would ask for a side of fries with your burger, it just seemed odd to me.  Dr. Riley put my mind at ease, and at once I realized he actually believed me!  He did order some tests for a baseline, but even prior to getting the results, he believed that I knew my body, and that living in pain wasn't normal or fun.

The day prior to my baseline ultrasound for Dr. Riley, I had yet another cyst.  I was slightly irritated; after all, couldn't it have waited so that I'd have something to show on the test?  Sigh.  At my next appointment Dr. Riley confirmed that I had experienced another cyst and mentioned being able to see follicles, which were tell-tale signs that more cysts were on their way.  After answering my myriad of questions he gave me several options (some I had not even thought of) and gave me a few days to talk things over with David; he said get back to him in a few days with which ever decision I made.  He'd be happy to do what made me feel most comfortable.  After lots of discussion with David and others who had this type of surgery or something similar done before I opted for surgery.

The morning of my surgery was only a little nerve wracking because they scheduled my surgery for mid morning, and I was kind of hoping for early morning to get it done and over with.  But, the Lord is good, and I was able to put my kids on the bus, sending them off for a good day at school with a hug and kiss.Since it's hard to find a vein on me, I was fully prepared for the amount of time it took to get a vein that would hold up.  And in the end I had the sweetest teddy bear of an anesthesiologist who came out and started the IV line himself, and let me tell you that is the only way to go!  He brought a small needle with a local anesthetic so that I wouldn't even feel when he put the IV in, no matter where he had to put it:)  I felt so spoiled!

David tortured me with Knight Rider re-runs and I only started feeling nervous just before they wheeled me to the OR.  Even then, they didn't give me the chance to be nervous for long, with a little Versed in my line to relax I was feeling pretty good as I scooted my bottom over to the operating table.  The lady anesthesiologist was amazing and bent over my face and spoke kindly to me about fun things until the wonderful medicine coursed through my veins and put me to sleep.  It gave me a new appreciation for continually comforting the patients we get on the ambulance.  I could feel tears of the unknown welling up in my eyes, but never had a chance to even squeeze one out before she had talked me onto a warm Caribbean island:)

My fear of waking up in pain was not unfounded and I found that as I came out of anesthesia all I could say was, "Pain, pain, pain".  And the caring staff was right there to ease my pain and give me pointers on how to move, eat and sip my apple juice so that I'd be able to be with David as soon as possible.  I remember that as soon as I could keep my eyes open Dr. Riley was there, explaining that they found another cyst attached to my uterus, but in accordance with my wishes left the uterus in place.  Also he mentioned that they found endometriosis that none of us knew I was suffering with; and apparently I had this condition for a long time.  He patted my face and told me he was going to talk to David and explain everything.

Later, David told me how compassionately Dr. Riley explained everything that was done.  So much so, that he made an impression on the lady sitting next to David, and she asked for his name because she was going to look him up as her new OB/GYN!

I had my follow up appointment yesterday, and all my tests and biopsies came back free and clear of any cancerous or pre-cancerous cells, which of course made my day:)  Because they had to do more cutting than originally planned, I am on two more weeks of restrictions and am so thankful for the wonderful family and friends who have brought meals, sent flowers and called to check on me and my family.  I think any time you have health issues it causes you to be grateful for the good health you enjoyed prior to being sick, and I am certainly looking forward to being fully healed before leaving for vacation in about a month.

Thank you all for your prayers and love during this healing process!

He's Singing Again

My boy Zachary was such a happy boy, he sang no matter where he was, or who was around.  Then one day he was quiet.  Not quiet in a good way.  He became so overwhelmed with school and responsibilities and a Mommy that was busy with house, other kids, school, teaching and everything in between.

It broke my heart when he stopped singing, so I tried everything I knew to make him happy again.  Praying didn't seem to be helping (how horrible to say, but it was true), listening to music in the van, giving him some earphones to hear his favorite tunes weren't helping either.  His behavior at school started to go downhill; nothing horrible, but he just couldn't concentrate.  It was a vicious cycle, bad behavior at school led to an upset Mommy, which led to a bad night of homework, which led to a mad little boy, and on it went.

It only took a few months (I know, not getting mother of the year award here) before I realized the so called problem was right under my nose.  Zachary is like his Mommy.  I respond better to challenges when I have the encouragement of my authority, and I know that they are proud of my best effort no matter what. I came to a great arrangement with his teacher (God bless her patience) that bad behavior at school was to be handled at school, and a note made for me to know about it, but like they say 'What Happens in Vegas...'.  Bad behavior at home was something for me to deal with, but punishment didn't carry over from school to home and the other way around.

All video games and technology stimulation was taken away from all the kids during the school week; instead it became a weekend priveledge.  Zach and I began doing homework one on one so that I could show him how to become an independent thinker, and a hard worker that went beyond just what was expected of him.  In one marking period his grades jumped from C's and D's to A's and B's.  His teacher noticed the difference almost immediately and started putting positive notes in his daily agenda...he couldn't wait to get home and show Mommy, who literally hooted, hollered and jumped up and down with the biggest smile I could get on my face.  At first he laughed at me, and I saw a glimpse of that happy boy I knew once.  Now he runs through the front door with a smile, and can't wait to tell me about his day.

And tonight as I passed by the bathroom door where Zach was taking his shower, I heard the sweetest sound EVER...he was singing again.

The Gym

I was agreeing with my best friend Rose just the other day about the fact that we are great starters...but sometimes the follow through is lacking.  I had this in mind when I was contemplating a gym membership.  A few months ago I began exercising using the P90x program and was totally gun-ho for the first 30 days.  After that I P90 pooped out!

I confided in my neighbor and friend Kimmy, that I wasn't sure if I would be able to stick it out at the gym.  After all look at the P90 outcome.  She graciously reminded me that I always tend to pick the hardest thing possible to attempt and she encouraged me to go to the gym and try it out.  I did, and I am glad I did!  I have been going for two weeks now, and am learning so much.  Learning about my physical limitations, learning about ways to stay healthy, and learning about a new friend I made (which is the reason I started going to this particular gym) Candi.

Candi is a few inches shorter than me, petite and just a wonderful lady.  In the two weeks that we've been going to the gym together, I've learned about her family, some of her hardships in life and the fact that she never goes out without eye makeup on:) We groan about our aches together and laugh when we watch the brave people doing Zumba in the next room.  We aren't sure if we are coordinated enough to do Zumba, but we're going to try one day...one day.  It's fun to have a new friendship on the horizon.

On Being Aggravated

Lately I've been working through a few things.  Ideas that have been twisted around in my mind since I was young, anger over being fed thoughts and beliefs that weren't valid much less biblical, and more than anything I've been aggravated over the way that people choose to talk about their personal convictions and in most cases just their personal opinion as fact.

It is no secret to my family or my friends where I stand on the issue of homosexuality.  The beliefs that I have on this issue have come from a long (and I do mean long) internal struggle, and an even longer struggle that has taken place right in my own family.  I'm not here to tell you what I believe, and most definitely not going to debate or argue whether I'm right, or you are.  This is the part where I get to speak, where my opinion is valid, where people don't tell me how I should think or feel.

I have watched Christians debate over homosexuality, be afraid of homosexuality and worst of all, cut family members off because of their lifestyle; just recently I heard an opinion (a view based solely on their point of view, not fact) that if a person accepts Christ as Savior, and then chooses to live their life as a homosexual, they are going to hell.  The hair went up on the back of my neck.  As I said before I'm not going to debate where I stand on the issue.  I am, however, going to say this: I have had it up to my eyeballs with people who tout this belief as biblical fact.

In the fundamentalist world homosexuality is a sin, just like drinking, drug addiction, murder, gossip and any of the other sins that the Bible lists as displeasing to God.  There is also the fact that a sin, is a sin, is a sin...hence all sins are equal in God's sight.  There is nothing that I can do to make my sin worse or better than any other sin, and God's forgiveness for sin is across the board equal  no matter which one, or multiple ones that you or I struggle with.  Also, once saved, always saved right?  So if these things are true, then how is the person that accepts Christ as Savior, then lives a homosexual lifestyle any worse than someone who accepts Christ as Savior and then chooses to live addicted to drugs?  I did.

I was saved at a young age, but chose to use drugs to numb out my problems for about 10 years.  You would be quick to tell me that I didn't lose my salvation, but then your theory would be flawed. According to you, because I chose to live that lifestyle, I am going to hell right?   I know people that accept Christ and continue to smoke...did they lose their salvation? Or how about someone who is a Christian but chooses to use curse words...are they going to hell? To all people that call themselves Christians and then choose which sin to be prejudice about, shame on you.  Gossip is a sin; do you tell the little old lady in church who has been saved most of her life that because she chooses to gossip about everybody and their brother behind their back she is going to hell?  Do you tell her that she is no longer a part of your family and can no longer attend family functions?  Do you take that firm a stand on every sin?  How come we (I include all Christians in this statement) pick and choose which sins are worse than others and then walk around with our heads held high and chests puffed out because we found someone whose sin measures up higher on the "bad" list?

And homosexuality is just the beginning.  What about what the Bible calls fornication?  If a young couple (who are saved) decide to have sex before marriage, do you tell them they are going to hell?  Oh by the way, isn't judging people a sin?  So by becoming the judges of every other person's sin...are YOU going to hell?  And don't tell me that what you meant to say was, if I repent and change my way, then and only then will I go to heaven.  If I accept Christ as my Savior, I am NEVER going to lose that...EVER.  Has my life been pleasing to God the last 10 years?  No, but not because my sin was greater than anyone elses'.  Did I know it was wrong?  Yes, but there is such a thing as free will...choice.  It's what God gives to each of us, a choice.  And guess what?  God didn't give me a horrible disease or disfigure my kids because I chose to live in sin.

I was raised in a cult; one in which we judged everyone for everything, and one where having standards and convictions were ways to measure better on the sin list.  After coming out of that world, I have questioned everything I ever believed or was taught. It is a tough road, but I am slowly coming to my own beliefs, and I refuse to be told what to believe.  I also realize that my beliefs are not what get me to heaven - it's the fact that Christ died for my sins.  I have also realized that there really isn't any sin that's greater than another, and there is no sin that the blood of Christ can't cover.  I could have talked about every sin known to man, but the issues on homosexuality are close to my heart.  I will never lose another family member because of a belief system that puts me above them.

My sin, no matter what it is, will never be "better" than anyone elses' sin.  I can't go back and change the past, I can only move forward and thank God for the grace that he pours out to me every day.  By God's grace I am taking one day at a time learning not to drown my confusion in drugs.  Being uniquely flawed is what makes us uniquely human, and no matter what I chose to do it will never change the way that God looks at me, through the nail scared hands of his Son.  That is mercy and grace.  So I challenge all my brothers and sisters in Christ to re-evaluate your thought process.  Make sure that your beliefs are not based on your opinion, but rest firmly on the Word of God.  And let's not be the judge of other people; when people look at us, they should see the love of Christ, not the ugliness of our opinions.  I am still in the learning process, and don't expect anyone to understand my ramblings.  In fact I'm sure this will anger some of you, surprise some of you and maybe you'll even talk about me behind my back (you always knew there was something wrong...just couldn't put your finger on it right?).

But that's okay; I know who I am in Christ, and will not be held down by my past or by other people's opinions of me.  To live effectively for Him, every minute of every day is my goal.  And I will never stop thanking him for his mercy and grace.

All things logical

I just can't figure out why the logical part of my brain doesn't work in certain situations!  It makes no sense to me how I can run with the ambulance and make split second decisions, use critical thinking on all my calls and yet when my kids are about to miss the bus, all logic goes out the door!

This morning was our typical Tuesday morning; I was showering, the kids were helping get each other breakfast and the dogs were napping.  I decided to do a time check and noticed that the bus was stopped outside at the end of the driveway!!  I could have just said, "Hey kids, the bus is here and you're going to miss it, I'll drive you to school once I get dressed."

I could have said that, but I didn't.  Instead I begin yelling for the kids to get their backpacks and jackets while I hid behind the TV stand, and as if there wasn't enough chaos, both dogs got out the front door.  I couldn't go after the dogs wrapped only in a towel!  Panic ensued until David jumped out of bed and saved the day!

And I heard him grumble as he fell back into bed,
Wouldn't this have been easier if you'd just used your head?