A carrot, an egg, and a cup of coffee... You will never look at a cup of coffee the same way again. A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved, a new one arose.

Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to boil. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil; without saying a word.

In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl.

Then, she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, "Tell me what you see."

"Carrots, eggs, and coffee," she replied.

Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft. The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she ovserved the hard boiled egg.

Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. The daughter then asked, "What does it mean, mother?"

Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity: boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened. The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water.

"Which are you?" she asked her daughter. "When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?"

Think of this: Which am I? Am I the carrot - in an adversity do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?

Am I the egg that starts iwth a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and hardened heart?

Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you. When the hour is the darkest and trials are their greatest, do you elevate yourself to another level? How do you handle adversity?

The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way. The brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past; you can't go forward in life until you let go of your past failures and heartaches. When you were born, you were crying and everyone around you was smiling. Live your life so at the end, you're the one who is smiling and everyone around you is crying.

You might want to send the message to those people who mean something to you; to those who have touched your life in one way or another; to those who make you smile when you really need it; to those who make you see the brighter side of things when you are really down; to those whose friendships you appreaciate; to those who are so meaningful in your life.  If you don't send it, you will just miss out on the opportunity to brighten someone's day with this message!

May we all be COFFEE!

-Author Unknown

I'm Invisible

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of
response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on
the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking,
'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously not; no one can see if I'm
on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on
my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible; "The Invisible Mom."

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this?
Can you tie this? Can you open this?

Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human
being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to
answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order,
'Right around 5:30, please.'

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the
eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude -
but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen
again. She's going, she's going, and she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner,
celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just
gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about
the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the
others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel
sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the
only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up
in a hair clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in
it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a
beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you
this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly
sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:
'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are
building when no one sees.'

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And
I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths,
after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the
great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders
gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They
made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The
passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of
God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who
came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a
workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled
and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that
bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was
almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see
the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No
act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake
you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are
building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will
become.'

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction.
But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for
the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my
strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself
as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that
they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will
never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say t hat no
cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there
are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend
he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in
the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey
for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean
I'd built
a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home.
And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you're
gonna love it there.'

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if
we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world
will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that
has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible
women. Great Job, MOM!

 -The Invisible Woman--when only God sees by Nicole Johnson.

Ten years ago, I was living in Georgia.  I was traveling home to Pennsylvania by car and stopped at my Uncle Richard's house to spend the night and visit.  The next morning, he took me out to breakfast and started discussing the rest of the trip home.  Having traveled the trip several times he warned me of some things.  One of them was Bristol, Tennessee.

"You'll be on 77 North," he said, "and you'll come to some signs that say 81 South.  It will look like you are on the wrong road, but you need to stay there, because they are the same road for a while.  77 North does this weird thing and goes south for a while.  But pay attention to where they split into two roads again.  One time your grandfather was traveling home from here and called me from Bristol, Tennessee saying, 'How'd I end up here?'  I'm telling you this now, so you have no excuse.  Don't call me from Bristol!"

My uncle was great!  Extremely intelligent and practiced Unconditional Love.  He taught me a lot about life.  Sometimes it looks like you are going the wrong way, but you may need to for a while to stay on track.  At the same time... don't end up in Bristol!

This is my absolute favorite group of people that are being the change they want to see!

Please take a bit of time to watch this video.  These people are truly a blessing to the world!

Peace,
Charity

"Mommy" my daughter said to me, "It's blue outside.  I can see blueness and it's coming from the sky."

Faith is very poetic.  She's a sweet and lovely girl.  Since birth everyone has taken to her charisma.  She is teaching herself to write.  This morning she worked through her E's, D,'s, B's, and R's.  Pretty amazing stamina for a 5-year-old. 

She's great!  She cleans her room without being told.  She color codes her closet.  She like's princess things and pretty dresses.  And she is quick to forgive.

If you ever need a lesson in forgiveness, she sets a great example.

The Special Mother - Erma Bombeck ~May11,1980~
Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures, and a couple by habit.

This year, nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of handicapped children. Did you ever wonder how mothers of handicapped children are chosen?

Somehow, I visualize God hovering over Earth selecting His instruments for propogation with great care and deliberation. As He observes, he instructs His angels to make notes in a giant ledger.

"Armstrong, Beth: son. Patron saint, Matthew. Forest, Marjorie: daughter; patron saint, Cecilia

"Rutledge, Carrie: twins. Patron saint... give her Gerard. He's used to profanity."

Finally, He passes a name to an angel and smiles. "Give her a handicapped child."

The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy."

"Exactly," says God. "Could I give a child with a handicap to a mother who does not know laughter?" That would be cruel.

"But does she have patience?" asks the angel.

"I don't want her to have too much patience, or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off, she'll handle it."

"But Lord, I don't think she even believes in you."

God smiles, "No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness."

The angel gasps, "Selfishness? Is that a virtue?"

God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally, she'll never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect. She doesn't realize it yet, but she is to be envied.

"She will never take for granted a spoken word. She will never consider a step ordinary. When her child says 'Momma' for the first time, she will be witness to a miracle and know it! When she describes a tree or a sunset to her blind child, she will see it as few people ever see my creations.

"I will permit her to see clearly all the things I see - ignorance, cruelty, prejudice - and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side."

"And what about her patron saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in mid-air.

God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."

Today, my wonderful husband becomes a year older than he was yesterday!

I just have to tell you how wonderful he is!  He cooks for me when I don't feel up to it.  He reads to our children.  He helps teach them about life!  He gives me massages when I'm sick.  He smiles at me when I'm angry (that's enough to disolve any low energy field).  He knows how to lighten up a heavy situation with a very laughable joke!  He tells me he loves me.  He is very intelligent!  He is very creative!  He writes music.  He writes stories.  He even wrote me into his life! (I'm quite thankful for that one)........  he helps me make and birth beautiful children!

I'm so glad to spend my life with him!  And I hope he has a happy day today!

I love you Tim!

When we do not feel someone is listening to us, there is often a tendency to speak more loudly or rephrase in hopes of finding a way of attracting their ears.  It's often better to just not say anything.  Sometimes that says more.

This is a foreign concept to most people these days.  It's very interesting to see that parents do not think that they are up to the "challenge".  To be honest, there isn't one, really.  At least, not in the actual execution of it.  Homeschooling takes work, that's for sure.  But so does getting your child dressed in the morning and taking them to a government or private building.  It takes work to supply your child with the long list of school supplies they get at the end of the summer.  It takes work to make sure they have clothes/uniforms for school.  It takes work to transport them to and from their extra curricular activities... to attend PTA meetings... to interact regularly with the teachers making sure you know what is up with your child.  Homeschooling is no more work than this... it's just different.

Homeschooling takes a very strong love for your child.  Do you have that?  If you answer "Yes." then you can homeschool.  Homeschooling takes the ability to read.  If you cannot read, then you should not be staring at your computer screen right now, because nothing on here can help you.  If you can read, then you can learn things.  If you can learn things, then you can show someone else what you have learned.  If you can show someone else what you have learned... then that is teaching.  If you do this with your child on a regular basis... Congratulations!  You're a homeschooler!

Some parents have told me that they couldn't spend the day with their children or they would go crazy.  I look at them and think "I'd go crazy if I spent all day with your children too."  There is a reason for this.  The reason is that the children are now programed to think that socialization is only possible with people of the same age.  Don't get me wrong.  It's great to spend time with people of your age.  But when you limit it to that, then you have missed the point of true socialization.  The only thing a 6 year old can learn from another 6 year old is how to be 6 years old.  But put a 6 year old with a 36 year old and both can learn from the other.  Since most parents were programed in the same system that limits exposure outside their age range for 12+ years, it's no wonder they don't know how to spend time with their children and feel like there is something to be gained on either end.  When they do, though, the child grows and matures much faster, and the parent-child relationship blossoms!

Most parents out there are very able to teach their children everything they need to know.  They are able to spend loads... and loads... and loads of time with their children and enjoy it!  They just don't know it yet.

John Stossel has written some good stuff about homeschooling.  He's got a show airing tonight on ABC.  I encourage you to watch it.