tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70932620314439222632024-03-20T06:38:09.840-05:00There Jo Goes"I love people who have been through adversity and heartache and obstacles as impossible as the sun itself. They usually make it out with hearts as warm as gold. Cores made of fire. Lives soaked with full intention. Hope like another morning. They know how to start again- how to walk through walls with palms wide open, and how to begin at the edge, and end. Those to me, are the best people." ~Victoria EricksonJoanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.comBlogger176125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-82271366707349002542022-01-08T05:51:00.000-06:002022-01-08T05:51:06.154-06:00“The Wisdom That Comes From Not Knowing”<p>I want to do spoken poetry. </p><p>I want to stand in front of children and tell a story with such theatrical illusionary magic and dimension that mystifies them to ask:</p><p>“Was that just 1 person or an entire cast?”</p><p>I want to dance… I want to tell a story with movement and music that should forever be put together. I want to give myself goose bumps because nothing matches the feeling of when your body marries music and tells a story that words could never find. </p><p>I want to wash away my doubt and pick up that paint brush to finally paint what I see when I close my eyes…and remember the yesterday’s I forgot to cherish. I want to know that tomorrow will be as good as today. I want one more chance to feel well again… if just one more day… I want to do it all- every single dream- </p><p>I want to feel every single rhythmic beat that my feet used to make- my own music created with every single heart beat- and my breath joining in to create a part of the melody: “in-in-out: innnnn-ooouuttt” so that my breathing joins the rhythm that once created a band each time I ran. It will always be my favorite band, and how I miss it so… </p><p>My brain is in a relentless conflict with my heart to make me believe that I won’t get to hear that rhythm of my band now. Certainly not now that I am so weak and already unable to do many things that I was able several years ago. I am joyful that my heart won’t believe a single thing my brain repeats.</p><p> I can’t just let my dreams all go because of an assumption. I have yet to try so many things because of the power that fear uses to imprison its victims.</p><p> I need just one day to go MY way, and I won’t ask for more than the simple ability to function.</p><p> I keep my secret existence so that I can hold the truth at a distance. If I say the words- I may hear them….and put up complete resistance. You might stop trying or hoping and dreaming… and I just can’t let my story be so unfinished. If I had my way I would change my history. I’d change so much and do everything so much earlier. Nothing stings more than not knowing enough to change the potential story. But I, for one, just cannot go down without a beam of glory… or maybe just a chance to tell the entire beautiful story. </p><p>Oh how I hate to go to sleep at night when I never know if tomorrow will be more than just a worry. Yet, if I fall to sleep, I pray: “Oh please let me have a day when my body lays down its weapons and ceases the war within itself and each and every cell rejoices.”~ Written by Jo Reinhardt-Anderson for the “I’m Not Done- What If I Overcome?” Endurance Rebellion.</p>Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-37024312361122215992019-01-07T23:04:00.001-06:002019-01-07T23:04:07.861-06:00Time Lords and The Complexity of Time in 2019- Hello Again!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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At 14 years old this 6’1” man-child is progressively in and out of his “primate-to-gentleman-to-4 year old human with the most beautiful eyes in all the world.”<br />
I recently documented the following in My ongoing Parental Log (year of 2019): “It seems he speaks of worlds I have not ever seen or experienced. He may or may not be living in alternative universes. We are watching closely to be sure this is not the case. I have developed an odd rage toward all technology. I have noticed a change in this offsprings humor, therefore a noticeable change in the younger offspring as well. It appears to have been broken as it is clearly not humorous. It seems that only a fortnight ago, I absorbed our simultaneous joyful laughter of humorous occasions only he and I shared. I was recently informed that the words I use to communicate were no longer correct. I am confused by the way both offspring communicate. It is as of I had a sudden and unaware brain hemorrhage, stroke or a TIA (transient ischemic attack) over a seemingly long duration. I am still unsure these offspring are mine and were not recently replaced! This rapid growth or change in my visibly older offspring has caused me terrifying increases in my heart rate, random and profuse sweating and insomnia. It appears my eyes may also have started to leak. I will need to see a professional regarding my eyes. This is not approved of my man-child. It seems to aggravate this once overly forgiving, eternally optimistic and joyful offspring much like that of when I accidentally sit in a close proximity, when I attempt to hug without permission, or if I ask about his day... It appears singing, dancing, chewing, and not having enough food to feed a small village in our home are now highly unacceptable. End of Log Entry #5130<br />
Tonight there was a sudden and amazing moment when the man-child walked over to me as I stood.... and.... he.... he.... HUGGED ME! It lasted quite a long moment, so in a time of such rarity, I had to document the spontaneous and joyous experience with the cursed technological device I am forced to use to know anything of the outside world....(I must say however, it is equipped with a rather nice camera!) I dare not say the next miracle or my eyes may begin to leak again.... oh I simply must!!!!<br />
Grant, my son of 14 years and 18 days....bent his 6’1” frame down and tucked his neck into mine and I heard his 4 year old adorable voice say “Mommy, will you carry me up to bed and tuck me in tonight?” (I cannot carry him anymore, but I think my man-child will always know I would move mountains and happily carry this giant world on my shoulders for him no matter how much we keep changing❤️). TARDIS my love, through all of time and space...Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-5543774062714424902013-04-29T12:28:00.001-05:002018-09-16T00:58:07.274-05:00This Loss is More Than Words Will Ever Be Able to Help you Understand<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Boys,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> I hope you always remember your Grammie Big! I found a letter today to share with you. My special relationship with both Grandma and Grandpa made up a huge part of who I am today.</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Dear Turtle,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">From Day one you've had your own place in my heart and I hope I've let you know how special you are to me. If you aren't feeling well or something is bothering you- I can always tell. You brighten my day with your presence or with a call on the telephone- makes my day even brighter. When you were little, how I looked forward to you coming home from school and always bubbling over how your day had been. You were always considerate of others and especially if you thought someone was treated unfairly by others. You have never wanted to do anything to not please anyone. You are such a great mother. I love to watch you interact with your boys. You treat both of them as they are their own special person and you explain things to them. I love your love and respect for God, church and your faith. I am so glad you have high moral standards. I always feel so welcome and comfortable at your house. You did a great job of finding a husband who has your moral standards. You and your family are all so special to me and I love you all dearly. "Joanna" is a beautiful name, but I agree with Grandpa who called you "Turtle". You will always be my Little Turtle!</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>With Love to the Moon and back-</i><br /><i>Grandma</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br /></i>I will write more soon but I must finish this semester of school so that I can give my stories of Grandma Melton in the best way possible.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">All my love, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mom</span>Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-59168741456074416802013-02-28T20:20:00.000-06:002013-02-28T20:20:12.315-06:00Soaking it in!Boys! I don't know how you do it, but in the midst of your silly little plans, you amaze me! You inspire me! You make me laugh! You shock me! You make me so very proud. As I see your character growing and bursting out of your heart, I am enchanted by the beauty of your complexities. I am in love with the unique ways your hearts guide you and I love the force with which you attack the world. Today you have made my day brighter. Today you have made me smile. You always make my days better, I just don't always remember to to soak in the happiness you bring to my life.Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-55959319023291220212013-02-21T11:37:00.003-06:002013-02-21T11:37:45.827-06:00Carrots, Eggs and Coffee<br />
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<span style="color: grey; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 14px;"><strong>Carrots, Eggs, Or Coffee</strong></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: grey; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">A young woman went to her Grandmother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was go</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span style="color: grey; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">ing to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: grey; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">Her Grandmother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: grey; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">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.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: grey; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">Turning to her Granddaughter, she asked, "Tell me, what do you see?" "Carrots, eggs, and coffee," she replied.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: grey; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">She brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft and mushy. She then asked her to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hardened egg. Finally, she asked her to sip the coffee.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: grey; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">The daughter smiled as she tasted its deep flavor and inhaled its rich aroma. The daughter then asked, "What's the point, Grandma?"</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: grey; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">Her Grandmother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity - boiling water - but each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it 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.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: grey; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water they had changed the water.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: grey; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">"Which are you?" she asked her Granddaughter. "When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?"</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: grey; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">Think of this: Which am I? Am I the carrot that seems strong? But with pain and adversity, do I wilt and lose my strength? Am I the egg that starts with a fluid spirit but, after death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, 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 a hardened heart? Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water - the very circumstance that brings the adversity, the pain, the hardship – into something quite wonderful. When the water gets hott, it releases it's fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better, and change the situation around you for the better.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: grey; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">When the hours are the darkest and trials are their greatest do you elevate to another level? How do you handle adversity?</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: grey; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">ARE YOU A CARROT, AN EGG, OR A COFFEE BEAN? </span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: grey; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">~ Author Unknown</span></span></span><br />
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<br /><span style="color: grey; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">Hey Boys- As I was reading this I remembered times in my life when I was a carrot and became soft in the heat, there were times I became hard on the inside and </span><span style="line-height: 13.99px;">fragile</span><span style="line-height: 14px;"> on the outside, but what I love the most is that I have a chance to be the coffee beans and change the hot water around me. I have the ability to take the hardships and use them to make myself even better, stronger, and loving. I love you! And remember that once you become one of these you always have the chance to change. Tomorrow is another pot of boiling water. Who will you be?<br />Love Always,</span></span><br />
Mom</span><br />
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Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-3805608689147406152012-12-19T16:44:00.002-06:002012-12-19T16:44:46.155-06:00Gran't eight yearsDear Grant,<div>
Hello to year number 8. You have grown so very much. I have seen your height shoot up in this last year and we spend so much money on clothes and food to keep up with you. Yet, you are still skinny as a rail and finding slims in size 10 is difficult. The most dramatic change that this year has been the desire you have to become the best "you" that you can be! I watch your faith grow and as it grows, more and more questions arise about what you read in the Bible. I love your questions about the Bible- I have always thought that to be a true believer and living proof of God you must question your faith. It is in those questions you find the amazing truths. </div>
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You have gone from reading children's books to reading chapter books. You are a very fast and focused reader. </div>
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Math is very easy to you. </div>
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Science enchants your very soul. </div>
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Your love for animals is growing day by day. You want to be a Zookeeper and travel the world finding animals who need to be in a safer environment than the wild. You have taught me so many things about animals I never knew! </div>
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You are an amazingly patient big brother, and with slight embarrassment I must admit you have more patience for Jake at times than I do. I love that you and Jake have secret clubs all over the farm, </div>
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I love watching the honest love for your cats, and my heart breaks every time I see the pain in your eyes when you lose a pet. The tears you cry for each of those pets shows your loving compassion for all of God's creatures. </div>
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I admire your ability to stick with a project until you have finished it. Although sometimes your amazing focus becomes irritating when I am trying to get you to focus on something else. </div>
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You run at an amazing speed and it have to admit when I first saw you running that fast my jaw dropped! </div>
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I love how you compliment me when I am feeling so very poor about myself. You lift me up and I hope I also life you up just the same.</div>
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You are artistic, creative and imaginative and athletic! I mean how cool is it that you make balloon animals, do origami and can do flips and round-offs better than most girls your age. I've seen you climb trees in a matter of seconds.And though all of these compliments to you- you wouldn't ever say that you were good at any of them. Why? Because you are modest and humble like your father! The eight years with you have been a course in how to better my own self.. You give me hope that you will continue to be the shining light and happy soul that you have always been...God did grant us with a gift like no other...We love you Grant!.</div>
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Love Always,</div>
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Mom</div>
Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-25109188149234570832012-12-11T21:16:00.000-06:002012-12-11T21:16:10.347-06:00If I had three wishes...<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Dear Boys, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Of course, if I had three wishes I would wish for a lifetime supply of wishes...but my very first three say the most about me and I would like to think they may say the most about you. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Maybe this is a bad time to write this blog entry considering you, Grant, have just asked me 12 questions in a row....10 of which were the very same question. Oh, you little stinker! I would love to use one of my wishes for you to have had to go to school on Thanksgiving Break! On some days keeping you two boys busy is like running a business! I'm not saying that I want you to go away, but please dear child simmer down now!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">My very first three wishes are quite complicated. Yet, I know first and foremost they would involve you two boys. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Wish #1: CHARACTER: I want the very most important things in your life not to be things. I also want this for myself and your father. I want for you to care more about how you treat others and express empathy/sympathy and kindness than getting the perfect score on a test or in a game. I also want this for myself and your father. If you focus on those things it will be utterly surprising how simple the rest will fall into place. Be VERY slow to anger and listen more than you speak. I also want this for myself and for your father. Family is more important than work, yet to support your family you must work, so finding your balance will be vital to a happy marriage and setting a great example to your children. I also want this for myself and for your father. Always remember "PEOPLE are more important than things". </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Wish #2: HEALTH: First you must know the definition of health. Since I know a bit about this area I can remember the definition from college as it was repeated over and over again...."Health is a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity." I wish for you both to remember that everything you put into your body affects your entire being in some way. It may not be immediate but it will affect it eventually. Science cannot, at this point in time, even know what some of the things we do, eat, or use in our lives will result in at later times. Currently the number one killer of both men and women is heart disease. Although I do believe that lung cancer his quickly coming upon the two. You have genetic history on both sides for heart disease and you both already have tastes for things that make me cringe. Grant- if I ever see you take a bite out of a stick of butter again I think I will have a heart attack myself!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">But, I must apologize to both of you for setting such a terrible example for exercise. Back when Grant was little, (2-4, and the years before we had children), Daddy and I were very active when I was able and not pregnant :-). Daddy and I love to lift weights and run. We would do it everyday if we had the chance. The problem is that statement I just made: "<em>If we had the chance</em>...." We always seem to find the time to do the things we really care about. So look at it this way: Nothing else I love to do can be fully enjoyed if I don't first take care of the very thing that allows me to enjoy those things. What happens to our cars if we don't change the oil- the engine burns up and the car becomes useless. You can replace an engine, you can't replace you. You <em>can</em> fix some health problems but why ever get to the point of having to fix something that you knew how to take care of in the first place. You will hear me say this a whole lot: "Most doctors spend their time on tertiary care (fixing what's broken- i.e. high cholesterol, type 2 diabetes, etc.) than on patients who are coming in for primary care (preventative medicine, i.e. check-ups/ physicals, mammograms, colonoscopies, blood work, etc.) Never make an excuse to put health on the back burner...because just as I said for the affects of kindness- the rest will fall into place. The times when Daddy and I remain the most focused, happy and healthy are times when we make time for exercise. Right after my diagnosis and radical hysterectomy I began to lift my muscles, slowly at first and then I was able to run, we played soccer in the back yard. Do you remember those days that summer...they were the best days of my life! Soon thereafter I was lifting and running like I had been born again. I entered a race and placed forth! All I could say was "Thank you God that I found my disease so early and didn't have to have chemo or radiation!" I was so amazed that I was in the best shape of my life only 4 months after a major physical and emotional change in my life. I wanted more children, but all I could think of was how lucky I was to be healthy for the two blessings that I had...YOU! While we were building our new home in the country, we let the stress and anxiety from the whole experience deter us from our exercise routine. We will get back soon so you will have a chance to witness the example rather than the common theme of : "do as I say and not as I do." :-) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Since I feel that faith is a major part of your health I have to mention the importance of your faith in God. As annoying as it sounds to you or maybe it won't (you may not be like me and go through the rough patches in faith that I have had)- finding a church family that you feel at home with is such a vital part of your spiritual health. After years of trying to figure out my faith walk, I now find it to be such an important role in my psychological, and emotional health as well. You may struggle finding a place that shares the same beliefs you have or a place that accepts your passion or excitement for new and exciting changes (if you are at all like you mother). But, don't let it hurt your relationship with God- he isn't the one who is causing the drama....you will figure this one out in your own time. I know how I have raised you...you understand already. God loves us all the time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Grant you have a beautiful connection and appreciation for the things that we know are there yet cannot see. It has come easy to you ever since your imaginary friends and their extended family came to live with us. ;-) Yet, that is not so easy for everyone. Jake you have conviction like nothing I've ever seen. Well, that's not true, Daddy has that conviction. Yet like your Daddy, trusting in those things you cannot see are very difficult for you. You worry about things that have not yet happened and you can't see that there is someone to catch you when you fall. You both (Daddy and you) need to remember that you are never alone. Faith is a light in the dark. If both of you boys could somehow combine Grant's ingrained and solid faith in God with Jake's conviction to the things he loves, wants and believes- you two would have an unbreakable faith and understanding of God. This is another of the thousands of reasons you two need each other. You fit together like a puzzle. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Wish #3: LOVE AND SELF-LOVE(ESTEEM): I know I can talk to you about love but when it comes to self-love I will feel much like a hypocrite. You won't be hearing me claim that I have figured any of the complex equations yet in all of my 32 years... I simply will not claim a lie so huge! I never have quite figured out why I have such problems with liking who I am or having "self-esteem or self-worth". I have a default button that always seems to take me right back to negative thinking. I don't know what I ever did to myself to make me not like me so much, but wow it must have been pretty bad because I don't think me, myself and I have ever gotten along. I pray you discover the clue to figure out this complex situation. In case it matters to you- I not only love both of you, but I love you to the end of all time...and we all know that time will never end! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Oh, how I have so many thing to tell you about what I have learned in this life I simply must take the time to live in this life as well so those stories and lessons must wait for another day and time. I am going to go wrap your Christmas presents right now!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Love and Blessings,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Mom</span>Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-61229237131515093582012-12-11T10:41:00.000-06:002012-12-11T10:41:03.003-06:00That's Important to Me<a href="http://www.cmt.com/videos/misc/588767/thats-important-to-me.jhtml?xrs=share_blogger">That's Important to Me</a>: "Album Number Two"<br />
Not planning our day around a TV set<br />
Paying our bills and staying out of debt<br />
That’s important to me<br />
That’s important to me<br />
Openin’ the windows and lettin’ in air<br />
Holding hands when we’re saying a prayer<br />
That’s important to me<br />
Yea, that’s important to me<br />
Having somebody to share my life<br />
Loving my husband, and being a wife<br />
And the very best mother I can be<br />
That’s important to me<br />
<br />
Telling the truth, and being real<br />
Feeding my family a home cooked meal<br />
That’s important to me<br />
That’s important to me<br />
Planting a garden and watching it grow<br />
Keeping it country on the radio<br />
That’s important to me<br />
Yea, that’s important to me<br />
Always having you to hold, <br />
Being beside you when we grow old<br />
And they plant us ‘neath that big old tree<br />
That’s important to me<br />
Always having you to hold<br />
Being beside you when we grow old<br />
And they plant us ‘neath that big old tree<br />
<br />
Believing our dreams will take us somewhere<br />
Still bein' ourselves if we ever get there<br />
That’s important to me<br />
That’s important to me<br />
Yea, that’s important to me<br />
That’s important to me<br />
That’s important to me<br />
That’s important to me<br />
<br />
My (Joanna's) Tribute to Joey and Rory's song "That's Important to Me"<br />
Raising two boys with love and respect<br />
compassion and honor with undying trust<br />
This is important to me<br />
Loving my husband and hangin' on tight when the ride gets rough<br />
knowin' our strength will get us through more than enough<br />
cause it's important to me<br />
This is important to me<br />
Putting my time in the things that matter<br />
and spending the rest just doin' my best<br />
cause it's important to me<br />
Remembering my friends and the love they have shown<br />
they never gave up or left me alone<br />
in my darkest hour<br />
in our darkest hour<br />
The times they picked me up off of the ground<br />
brushed of the pain <br />
and they would do it all again<br />
cause I'm important to them<br />
They are important to me.<br />
The family that raised me to be who I am<br />
stands back and watches all of my plans<br />
I hope they are happy-I hope they are proud<br />
This is important to me.<br />
This is why God made me <br />
This is why it's so important to me.Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-37934312205132057042012-10-20T07:40:00.001-05:002012-10-20T07:40:35.401-05:00A love like thatDear Grant and Jake...and Daddy too: This is not written to you this time...it is about you. You are my favorite conversation topic. All my love, Mom<br />
I've been walking, more like watching my life in the slowest of constant motion. Yet, something has changed; something very important has changed. I can see my blessings as if they glow. It feels supernatural to finally have clicked the right button and for this moment in time to be able to comprehend the pure and insane bliss my life can bring. I'm not working much, and I spend a whole lot of my time in reflection. There is so much silence, the kind of silence that screams at you when at first you don't recognize it! I have been quite depressed in the past six months; feeling sorry for my lack of constitution...or success rather. But when the boys are around it is beginning to fade. I'm laughing again like a little girl at the silliest of things. The boys make me feel like I have flashed back to another time in my life, the time life was free of so much internal and external judgement. The time I was their ages. I remember being five clearly. I remember being eight with a crisp clarity. One day I heard my voice above all of the screaming silence..."What are they going to remember about this time? What will they say about their childhood? Will they laugh about how crazy and silly all four of us are when we are together in those fleeting moments, or will they remember me getting sick so frequently? Will they realize that I was so desperate to be there for them that I gave up on a whole lot of what I thought i wanted in this life, only to find I didn't give up anything? Will they realize that their Dad is the most loving husband anyone could ever have? When his lack of public displays of affection are confusing...secretly in our conversations, when he holds me with conviction... I wonder if anyone else will ever have a Love like that. Will the boys know how much dedication and sacrifice it takes to be a father and a husband but to find a wife who can appreciate what they giving?" Lord, I hope they are everything their Dad is, without the self-doubt.<br />
*Success*: you and I need to have a conversation...! I don't like the feelings you have imposed on me about your implications. You are wrong. I am highly successful. I have what it takes to show my children what they need to know without scarring them. We know have to have family conversation at the dinner table, and giggle the whole time. We r not just a little family God blessed us with...we are friends and a secret club.<br />
And to all of my regrets about the road I have traveled: "I am more than the choices I have made." I know how to explain why what I tried didn't work at times and how to fix it...in their terms.<br />
Grant and I have been talking an laughing so very much lately. This is what he needs. This is the love language he speaks. Jake and I have been cuddling and I listen more to what he says to me now because I realized his love language is affirmation and touch. ...And the love I have for them, well, I can only hope they will have a love like that someday... If they do, my heart will dance.Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-87629599228679303652012-09-28T21:43:00.000-05:002012-09-28T21:43:49.146-05:00"Sometimes I color inside the lines, it really depends on the picture"~ Ramona QuimblyComing from a personal perfectionist this statement is intriquing like opening the door to the unknown for the first time.<br />
Sometimes I'm a scribbler.Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-33291914662747439672012-08-14T14:30:00.000-05:002012-08-14T14:30:16.892-05:00More than your senses can comprehendDear Grant,<br />
I know you think I am hard on you, but I love you more than the senses can understand or comprehend... I am constantly trying to help you reach for the stars. The problem is that you have no aim for the stars at this point in your life so you see me as someone taking personal attacks upon you. Oh you amazing child, I hope you someday realize how much you are capable of and how sweet your compassionate heart truly is. I hope you see how much your brain can hold, your heart can open up, your faith can reach out, and your soul can balance... I do love you "pun-kin"!<br />
Love,<br />
Your "mean Mom" ;-)Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-55383752328039368372012-06-05T13:22:00.000-05:002012-06-05T13:22:49.257-05:00Harsh Truth in a Lovely WorldI have been struggling lately boys. When I struggle I often search out the reason and discover the truth behind it all so that you may learn from my mistakes. If there is one thing I am certain- you <b>will</b> makes mistakes. It is how you handle yourself in the face of those mistakes that will set you apart from the rest of the world. I have spent my whole life trying to figure out how to restructure my responses to take accountability and change my behaviors once faced with mistakes. As a child, I went through times when I responded to my mistakes much like a certain four year I know. In order to avoid disappointing or angering adults I would lie to cover myself...so, my mother tells me :-) The problem with this approach is that you lose trust and it completely hinders your moral and ethical development. The next step I took in my development was to admit to the wrong-doing simply to avoid conflict weather I was the person who needed to apologize or not. The problem with this approach is that it damages your self-esteem and crushes your self-value. I am now on a teeter-totter between this approach and the one where if you simply do the "crime"- you fess up -and "pay the time". I haven't mastered this last approach which leaves me in an awkward position where I find myself "telling on myself" out of sheer guilt. The main thing I know...is that I am never far from reviling the truth and sometimes maybe too much of the truth. I fear I overdo these things in my desperate attempt to help you understand accountability and humility. Everyone is out there everyday and making mistakes...if not many mistakes. I have never been one to get into very much trouble and if I do it was often related to direction from my mother. Please understand that I see that as a valued part of my life. If your mother and/or father cannot help you (yes, even into your 30's), you might be missing the most honest and pure truths behind who you are. Some other family members may criticize, but you have to know the difference between what is meant for your well-being and separate that from what is their own personal gain from the "take down". Some people just need to feel as if they are above you or soothe themselves in the fact you have been weakened by their selfish "take down". It is a harsh truth in a lovely world. I hope that makes sense. I don't want to scare you into pessimism, I simply want to save you from the unfortunate places in which I sometimes find myself.Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-26154417173802221252012-02-28T05:08:00.001-06:002012-02-28T05:08:37.694-06:00Peace<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYzpJrims_SOqv79NeA1exKdQuMilAHk3ckxf0YgLwO8aYGXwQAw-T88F4nIupCX4AccmmSxnjRZ0Fjp3-xvSwEnsUdqx2DYFPp-SBOrJXTbqWXW6RFF93QkDH4Egk0k6RxCxHghWWNw8r/s1600/081500951934%5B01%5D.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYzpJrims_SOqv79NeA1exKdQuMilAHk3ckxf0YgLwO8aYGXwQAw-T88F4nIupCX4AccmmSxnjRZ0Fjp3-xvSwEnsUdqx2DYFPp-SBOrJXTbqWXW6RFF93QkDH4Egk0k6RxCxHghWWNw8r/s400/081500951934%5B01%5D.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The top of the grain bin on a smmer evening...PEACE!</td></tr>
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<a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img align="middle" alt="Posted by Picasa" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" style="-moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; background: 0% 50%; border: 0px currentColor; padding: 0px;" /></a>8/16/2010</div>Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-56196137635454580202012-01-23T06:18:00.000-06:002012-01-23T06:18:51.378-06:00A Pivitol Time9/26/2010<br />
I think I've finally reached a point in my adult life where I can go to sleep at night knowing I stand for the right things. I say this understanding that it doesn't mean that the choice to stand for these things is easy and without pain, suffering, conflict, outcast, judgement and struggle. Yet, the comforting factor in all the grief is the knowledge that I now understand and believe that I have more people who love me and are on my side in my life than those who do not/are not. I find myself wondering what other's think about in those brief moments between wakefulness and sleep. Do they worry, race among their thoughts, tune out the thoughts with TV's, music or medications, smile at their blessings, desperately pray for God's guidance, desperately pray for God's forgiveness, desperately cry out their appreciation to God....? I suppose I have done it all. One thing I have always found hard is to simply let the difficult and unacceptable situations go. I can't seem to rest when anything in my life isn't something I would stand for. I have these convictions. I don't know what about me has made my convictions and beliefs so strong, but they take on a life of their own. If something in my life is happening that I find to be completely wrong and I am associated with it, I feel as if I owe it to myself, my husband, my children and the rest of my family to remedy the situation. The longer it takes, the longer I go sleepless. If I cannot stand by something I am involved in with a dedication, conviction or self approval stamp, I feel I am not walking the talk. I feel like I am a liar. I feel like I am telling other people it is okay to break conviction with exceptions. The interesting thing is that I never seem to judge others as harshly as I do my own self. I suppose that is to ones benefit when looking at the whole picture. After all there really is only one judge right? Jake. Just kidding. God....<br />
My faith is in a pivotal time. In months past I remember waiting all week for that one place where I felt no judgement and complete acceptance. Now I dread the place all week long. In the past couple of weeks I have asked myself some very tough questions:<br />
Do I stand for what goes on inside (actually outside of) of the church I attend? Do I want to raise my children in a church family that supports things I find to be unacceptable? Then I realized. The church and the people in the church are wonderful. That hasn't changed. I have meet such amazing people in our church. Their stories and their lives are the examples that I want the boys to learn from. Like any community, there will be some people that I might not understand. There may be some people I need to give more forgiveness than others, more patience than others and more prayers of understanding than others. <br />
I simply find the whole situation to be slightly impossible. I looked at my aging grandparents today as they sat here for Jake's birthday party and wondered to myself what wisdom they would offer in a situation such as this. I wondered what piece of information Grandpa Jake would have told me. He was able to show me many times when I was growing up how to hang on to my dignity while dealing with a situation so potentially explosive. But, watching someone so capable as compared to how I react must be quite a sight.<br />
I have been wondering about the concept of praying a lot vs. praying every now and then. If I go to God asking for support with my clarity, strength in my convictions, and the ability to make the right words come out of my mouth to fix the situation....will it make any more difference if I pray for this throughout my day or scattered prayer without any regularity?<br />
In those moments where my mind and soul dance around with the permission to grant me the acceptance to sleep- my mind runs through the checklist of talks that I should be walking and convictions I should be holding. In those moments does a simple prayer really fix me? Should it be the override to my internal conflict. I know the answer. God is my answer-I guess what I want to know is why can't my mind let it be the answer. I have a need for an immediate resolution before I fade to sleep. I simply must realize I am not the judge after all.Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-49681857721790054942012-01-20T11:31:00.000-06:002012-01-20T11:31:21.961-06:00I'm not who I was or who I will be...I was viewing all of the unpublished blog drafts in my account lately and I realized that I am doing the boys a disservice to hide those posts that I was, at one time , (and still may be) a bit embarrassed to feel. Yet, I started this blog for them and I soon hope to take advantage of the publishing feature they offer since I would like to take the blog and the boys lessons in a newer direction. Before I have the blogs printed into a book for them to read I thought I would share those entries I was hiding from you all, the boys and most likely myself. So in the following days, remember to look at the very top of each blog entry to see when I wrote the blog. Blogger will post the date you have posted the blag and not the day it was written. Remember we all change in time and I simply am not who I used to be. In some ways you will see that I am the "Jo" <em>you</em> know. But, one thing you find out is that I have had many roles and many masks to protect that fragile soul I have protected at times in my life. Hear this song before you begin to read:<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K1ZgtCRO-KY">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K1ZgtCRO-KY</a><br />
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<span class="normal">I wish you could see me now
<br />I wish I could show you how <br />I'm not who I was <br />I used to be mad at
you <br />A little on the hurt side too <br />But I'm not who I was <br /><br />I found
my way around <br />To forgiving you <br />Some time ago <br />But I never got to tell
you so <br /><br />I found us in a photograph <br />I saw me and I had to laugh
<br />You know, I'm not who I was <br />You were there, you were right above me
<br />And I wonder if you ever loved me <br />Just for who I was <br /><br />When the
pain came back again <br />Like a bitter friend <br />It was all that I could do
<br />To keep myself from blaming you <br /><br />I reckon it's a funny thing <br />I
figured out I can sing <br />Now I'm not who I was <br />I write about love and such
<br />Maybe 'cause I want it so much <br />I'm not who I was <br /><br />I was thinking
maybe I <br />I should let you know <br />I am not the same <br />But I never did
forget your name <br />Hello <br /><br />Well the thing I find most amazing <br />In
amazing grace <br />Is the chance to give it out <br />Maybe that's what love is all
about <br /><br />I wish you could see me now <br />I wish I could show you how
<br />I'm not who I was </span></div>Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-47962738624272395492011-12-14T03:56:00.000-06:002011-12-21T03:31:14.323-06:00Faith is beliving in that which you cannot see, the rest are the fillers.The sun setting on the farm on a perfectly breezy night with all the evening sounds swirling around me deliberately grab at my senses like they always did when I was younger (at home on the farm). Being more aware of my senses has always been a blessing and a curse. I am emotional, and sensitive for myself and for other's. (I may often do this with some people that most people do not think deserve my sympathy or any one's sympathy for that matter), OR there is also <em>presumed rationality</em> understood by others when I decline to provide my sympathy due to the <em>general certainty</em> that the person is most definitely NOT deserving of any more forgiveness and sympathy than they have already pulled from others in a seductive way. I guess throughout life I have grown to be quite guarded and protective of my senses. I had been hurt a whole lot in my lifetime due to feeling so bad for everyone- then I realized: many of those times I was wasting my pain on those who were <em>"undeserving".</em> I put those words in quotations because I am fully aware that I am not the judge in this life. I balance on the line of constantly wondering when I should let my heart step up and get involved. I feel like all I have is a balance beam under my feet and a blindfold over my eyes.<br />
This part of me always seems to be shoving her way through the masses of people as she attempts to sift through a crowded concert where she, my rational thoughts, has front row seats. I know that this life is not about me but more about what I can do while I am here, so a little discomfort to help those who have continually manipulated and caused me to become guarded...well I guess I am suppose to do that.... in this life....right?<br />
It isn't only the sensitivity to emotions I seem to feel so deeply: there are the strong smells that I can smell that no one else can smell. I am quite sure this is why I remained nauseous throughout all of my pregnancies. I still acquaint certain smells with my pregnancies- (they were torturous). The smell if Subway is horrible to me - ginger root doesn't make me sick it just makes me flash back to the horrible times I smelled those acquainted objects or places with misery. I still can't handle certain foods, certain detergent, hospital smells, doctor offices, hand sanitiser....it all literally stinks. <br />
I have always had an issue with touch. I notice every single time someone touches me- weather it be a hug, a brush by me in a store, a child jumping on me. Sometimes I am instantly comforted yet other times I feel practically assaulted! I find it ironic that I find massages to be a form of torture. This therapeutic method of relaxation makes my skin crawl. It is horribly creepy having someone you don't know rubbing their hands all over your body! Or we all know that one person who may think they are doing you a favor, walks up behind you and begins to give you an unsolicited shoulder massage! <br />
I can feel seams in my socks and the tags in my clothes. Sometimes simply having clothes on drives me crazy, but I hate being naked.... so there you go- I can't be happy either way! <br />
I still love the electricity I have always felt sent straight through me when touched by Ted- if even for a moment....if only for a quick kiss on his way or my way out the door- it's instant ELECTRICITY! There <em>is</em> that feeling which I can match to holding my newborn baby boys and relate to not a single thing in this world. I also love the physical feeling of my fingers touching a keyboard when I am spilling my emotions out onto the screen. <br />
I hate my ability to hear more than others may be able to hear. I sware my hearing is magnified. I wish there was a way to do hearing transplants and I would donate some of my hearing to my Grandmother and some to my Grandfather. I have heard so many painful things said about me in my life. At times I wish I had been either clueless or hard of hearing. I despise the sound of motorcycles and diesel engines. I guess they just sound so rude in my mind. It seems as if someone does not care to pollute the peace of their common neighbor. I simply find it hard to understand. I hear every movement or sound in the house at night ever since the boys were born. It isn't a great thing- that simply means that even when I finally have the chance to sleep I can't because I hear too many other distractions.<br />
I'm not sure what to say about my sight ability. I have contacts/glasses. Without them, if I hold an item closer to my face it is magnified. The one thing I find interesting about my sight is the constant interest I have at watching the movements and facial expressions of other people. I have been watching people cues since I was very little. My Grandfather did it when we went shopping- I sat with him because I did not like to shop either. I still do not like shopping- so I still like to watch people instead. For years I would talk to people and know they were lying to me or that something else was going on but I was unsure how I knew. There was a show that came on recently in the last couple of years called "Lie To Me" and it not only identified the facial cues, but explained them, named them and told the reasons people use them in the first place. <br />
I am wrong sometimes....so be it.<br />
The last time I had a job that evoked all my senses every single time was when I worked at the Emergency Room as an ER Tech/ EMT-B/Ambulance Crew and Transfer Driver. I dealt very well with all of these things. I do miss working in this atmosphere. I remember conversations with other workers in the ER and recalling how odd it was to deal quite well considering the constant drama, yet in our personal lives we would fold under less pressure. It wasn't that I didn't have the same senses, it was my faith making a strong appearance. I have come to know the complete difference between then and now: FAITH: Believing in that which we cannot see. It should be the 6th sense. In the hospital I <em>knew </em>God was there. I knew he had to be or some of the things that happened wouldn't have happened. And most importantly I always felt a calm during the largest storms as if he had his hand placed gently on my back and guided my rational thought to the second row due to faith sitting in the first row and my emotional senses were allowed in but were held back a few rows to be sure they didn't interfere with the job at hand. <br />
I will tell you a story about tonight boys as you run around outside and play on this beautiful summer evening, but first I want to remind you that you senses were placed there with divine hands to protect you Listen to them, obey them, know when to let your rational thoughts have the front row seats and when your faith needs to be there instead . Maybe you need to allow emotional thought to have the seats at times because if you don't relating to others will be difficult to you. As far as reading other peoples senses, good luck. I have learned you either have it or you don't. Just remember when nothing seems to make sense there is a 6th sense to lean upon. Faith is always there you simply are moving around it. so Grant when you feel that feeling you tell me about....know it is the guardian angels and faith you are standing next to. Don't be afraid because you are a very sense aware child yourself, and sometimes it can be an exhausting, terrifying and, treacherous road without your faith. <br />
May you always remember to pay attention to your sense and to the senses others may be experiencing. If you can do those things your ability to empathize and sympathize will always be strong. And don't forget in our family we care about the feelings of others just as much as we do our own.<br />
Love Always, Mom<br />
To be continued:Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-27388123103238145342011-11-02T08:05:00.000-05:002013-04-06T11:53:43.015-05:00My Grace is Enough For YouA wonderful friend sent me this devotion. <a href="http://www.girlfriendsingod.com/category/devotions/">http://www.girlfriendsingod.com/category/devotions/</a><br />
I had become jaded through suffering. And I was up...It all begins with.<br />
2 Corinthians 12: 7-<br />
"So that I would not become too proud of the wonderful things that were shown to me, a painful physical problem was given to me. I begged the Lord three times to take this problem away from me.But he said to me, <strong>'My grace is enough for you.'"</strong><br />
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Paul was not sinning by asking God to remove his affliction. Paul may not have understood what God was doing, but he chose to accept it because he knew God's heart. Paul may not have understood God's process but he trusted God. <br />
<br />
2 Corinthians 12:9 "But he said to me, 'My grace is enough for you. When you are weak, my power is made perfect in you.' <strong>So I am very happy to brag about my weaknesses. Then Christ's power can live in me."</strong><br />
<strong><br />
</strong><br />
God was sending Paul a message of hope. It is important to note the tense of the verb in this verse, "But he said to me" can be translated "He (God) has once-for-all said to me." It is an eternal promise. <br />
<br />
The story is told of a business man who was selling warehouse property that had been empty for months. Since vandals had damaged the doors, smashed the windows and left garbage, the building needed expensive repairs. As the owner showed a prospective buyer the property, he was quick to explain that he would make any repairs needed. The buyer said, "Forget the repairs. When I buy this place, I'm going to build something completely different. I don't want the building - just the site." God does want our bodies, he wants what is inside: (How I taught my children nieces and nephews)<br />
<br />
God's grace turns defeat into victory, tragedy into triumph and weakness into strength by providing real power over circumstances. People without Christ can muster up enough courage and human strength to get through a trial. God will not only enable us to survive the hard times, He wants us to thrive in and because of them. Paul used his pain and chose to make that pit work for him - and God's power was unleashed in Paul's life.<br />
<br />
2 Corinthians 12:9 "I am very happy to brag about my weaknesses. Then Christ's power can live in me." (that's my excuse :-)<br />
Joy is not an earthly treasure but a heavenly gift from our loving Father who is committed to the joy of His children. I am convinced that God entrusts the greatest trials to those who will respond to them in the right way. Some of the most joyful people I know have suffered the most because they have learned not to live on explanations but on promises - the promises of God.<br />
<br />
I love the story of the little girl who misquoted her favorite Bible verse, "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son so that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have ever-laughing life." Jesus wants to give us a life of joy, pits and all. We need to remember that joy is the deeply-rooted confidence that God is in control and that our inner attitudes do not have to reflect our outer circumstances. <strong>We can find joy in the pit. Grandma had her struggles and her pain, but found joy. Oh how she laughed, and picked on us in a way we each deserved :-)... With the love of of our Grandmother</strong><br />
Since my brothers have addressed the common theme I have struggled with since I watched Grandma pass into this world into the next: I must read to you something for myself, for my brothers, who have always held me up and I have in no doubt there they learn to do this:<br />
There is a book about a man who was imprisoned by the Nazis in World War II because he was a Jew. His wife, children and parents were killed in the Holocaust. As the Gestapo stripped away his clothes and cut off his wedding band, Victor said to himself, <strong>"You can take away my family and destroy everything I possess, but there is one thing that no person can ever take from me - my freedom to choose how I react to what happens to me." So today I chose to celebrate how much time I was able to spend with Grandma from Jan. 24, 1980 to April 3rd, 2013. Daniel, you are right, I chose to feel blessed, my anger was misplaced sadness. Jim, you taught me to look at Grandma for what she was to US three, but to put it into two valuable words- I feel thankful for everything she did for us three. So I thank you for remembering who we are and why we are.</strong>Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-79558226794053469172011-10-23T11:20:00.000-05:002011-10-23T11:20:28.521-05:00Turn Around- Matt Maher<span class="clearBoth" id="ctl00_ctl00_cphMain_cphMiddleColumn_lblLyrics" style="display: inline-block; width: 100%;">Young man on the side of the road<br />
Lost and beat up with no where to go<br />
Smells like a hangover from days ago<br />
He does what he can to survive<br />
<br />
Single mom with a dead end job<br />
Ninety hour week just to keep what she's got<br />
With the bills that add up and down she's caught<br />
She does what she can to survive<br />
<br />
Well, let me say<br />
That love won't take away the pain<br />
But don't be afraid<br />
'Cause it will never walk away<br />
<br />
(Chorus)<br />
If yo u're scared that you don't matter<br />
If you're lost and need to be found<br />
If you're looking for a Savior<br />
All you gotta do is turn around<br />
<br />
Some turn to a bottle<br />
Some turn to a drug<br />
Some turn to another's arms<br />
But it seems like it's never enough<br />
<br />
Well I won't say, that you will ever fail again<br />
But there is grace<br />
To wash away your every sin<br />
<br />
Chorus<br />
No one listens to you anymore<br />
And your heart has broken down<br />
You don't need to move<br />
Love has come to you<br />
All you gotta do is turn around<br />
All you gotta do is turn around<br />
Turn around<br />
<br />
You don't have to take the broken road<br />
You can turn around and come back home<br />
(X3)<br />
<br />
Chorus<br />
If yo u're scared that you don't matter<br />
If you're lost and need to be found<br />
If you're looking for a Savior<br />
All you gotta do is turn around<br />
<br />
No one listens to you anymore<br />
And your heart has broken down<br />
You don't need to move<br />
Love has come to you<br />
All you gotta do is turn around<br />
All you gotta do is turn around</span>Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-50554765589702709562011-10-22T11:29:00.000-05:002011-12-12T16:39:03.426-06:00Someday the bird will break through the screen and be free!Someday that bird will break through the screen and be free... (my mind pauses for a moment and I switch back to the inner turmoil I so often struggle with....); and then my realistic and scarred heart slips through and whispers with tears (as if hearts could cry) "it's so sad that once he does break through this unattainable goal he will only hit the glass window with a painful halt to his dreams."<br />
We have this little bird who flies underneath our deck over hang to fly into our dirtiest window of the entire house almost daily. I don't understand his appeal or if it is even him each time. Maybe there is a little birdy group filled with birdy bullies telling each one that behind that dirty window lies the most beautiful place they have ever seen with as many berries and worms as could fill his gullet. So each time this little naive birdy decides to go against all that his mother has told him, and all that his father has drilled into his tiny birdy brain. All the stories of his ancestors and "the great window crashing". Oh how many family and friends he had lost by such an unobtainable dream. The humans he heard laughing on the other side of the window as his family tried to reach the other side became unbearable. The humans thought the birds were ignorant to the fact that the window was not the same as the clear air they had seconds before been soaring through. They knew what was coming but they honestly thought they could make it. They had a belief, no matter if others shared that belief or not- no matter the cost- they had a belief.<br />
Who can say your goal is unobtainable? If it harms others, is illegal, or could potentially kill you- by all means you should avoid it; but who really is to say your goal is unobtainable? And are you not better for having tried and failed than to never have tired at all... ( somewhat like that quote: "To love and lost is much better than to never have loved at all."<br />
As a mother I often forget my children are like that tiny little bird, but on a different scale. They are not smashing their bodies full speed into windows, yet, they have what I consider to be dangerous and unobtainable goals. My heart wrenches at the look of devastation on Grant's face when I tell him that he can't build a table with a few pieces of wood and about 12 nails....is well, a moment I wish I could go back in time to be six again and have the fire I see in his eyes. Nothing would have stopped me either. Not to mention poor Grant couldn't find the hammer so he was going to use an old wrench to smash the nails into his boards. He begged if I just gave him a chance he would show me. He could do it!<br />
I was distracted by his little brother who had just tied a "knot" around the swing set and yelling from across the yard: "Look at me Mom! "You don't need to make da tire wing (tire swing) I made a rope wing (swing)- SEE!" I had been tying knots and securing rope that afternoon and if he isn't a genius there is no way his rope was going to hold- so I thought.... I ran across the yard yelling "get down before you break something!" I mean this child was up high...way too high! It never broke. When I got there I gave it a try and feeling a bit closer to the ground than Jake was- I pulled all of my weight off the ground and placed all dependence on my four year olds knot tying ability. It worked. I swung on it for a long time and when I was done I yelled to Grant "come and see this!" He said, "hold on!" I turned around to see that Grant had three pieces of wood nailed together and it was obviously on it's way to being a table. It was at that very moment this late summer/ early fall evening that I realized my sons smashed through the screen and the window and made it through the other side, even though I was weary of their ability to make it safely. Every time I allow them to have the chance to obtain confidence on their own, I am allowing them to break on through the impossibles. So, little birdy- I'm not laughing at you anymore...may God give you strength to make it through! After all, everyone (and creature) deserves to feel as if they have a goal or a purpose.<br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: inherit;"><strong><em>~Happy Breaking thru those windows to your dreams!</em></strong></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: inherit;"><strong><em> Joanna</em></strong></span>Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-29623318155542976402011-08-14T17:22:00.000-05:002011-08-14T17:22:28.033-05:00Ride The Elephant <img border="0" height="219" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin5O9m-tBel4VSQr84Xt5-CumM4SYU_3WM-dtOtthVaNuydNEX70Km4XKfkTMijmX6pnEG5xp7elJXu2F9CiB9OdQNRC9mxIEtN83AEOs4w3kMn1bcnCTUOwjoyAsV7p729jmsvuK0P_tx/s320/imagesCA6E5PBR.jpg" width="320" /><br />
Life is hard boys. Really hard. No one really talks about the hard stuff- it is perceived in this society as complaining or weakness, especially when it comes from boys. I, as your mother, will never feel that sharing your feelings shows a lack of masculinity, weakness and in most cases I won't see it as a form of complaining. It is quite the opposite my loves- I will feel as if you have the whole piece of the puzzle that this complication of our life seems to be. My point has a direction this time- as I hope you are able to follow most of them. <br />
I am going to share genuine feelings that I simply cannot shake. The simple fact that I shared that statement would send some into a tizzy. We will be a different folk. We will have sympathy, empathy, love, compassion, and we won't forget what value lies in the importance of shaking loose these feelings and not trying to stuff them deep inside.<br />
I have been hearing myself say lately. "It all seems so simple to me- the shortest distance between two points is in a straight line- so why don't we just stop avoiding this issue right now and deal with it?" Sometimes I laugh as I visualized the saying "shove it under the rug" meaning to hide something that bothers us or embarrasses us in order to avoid it all-together. I laugh because I see those things as the so called "elephants in the room" which means something so big and abnormal you can't ignore it. <br />
Picture this: You are in a room simply trying to go about your normal day or have a conversation when all of the sudden an elephant walks into the room! The elephant in my story is of course the problem that needs to be dealt with. Well, there are a few options. Some people would ignore it- (or at least pretend they couldn't see it so they wouldn't have to deal with it.) Some people would run screaming from the room because well- an elephant is one huge problem when it inside of a room. I suppose one could fear being crushed by it. Some would grab the rug in the room and try desperately to shove that elephant under the rug. You sit and watch as a giant lumpy and noisy elephant squirms around under the rug and think to yourself- why didn't anyone just talk about the problem that there was an elephant in the room and it needed to be removed? So you have a choice. You could walk away knowing that if you go back that elephant very well may be underneath that rug every single time you walk into that room or you could whip that rug off of that elephant, tell everyone there: "There is an elephant in this living room! What should we do to get rid of it?" In real life this would be like bringing up a subject that nobody wants to talk about that needs to be talked about. So there will be some people who refuse to help solve the problem, some people will claim there is no elephant and you may for one moment feel as if you could be crazy, if it hadn't been for the one person who ran screaming from the room! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVmCBkzpJET-CtWNexxxg6mUyZHBpqMLUNW5o-UYF1pzh-OIyolI7qCmleq44dFfcza6OsBj1o2gQ74EIteyr-c1QKoeDur6E-Ezcu5JtYIqopbrrgWxEweCy3o7Sxang2kOQ22OxWWpRQ/s1600/imagesCAKII45M.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVmCBkzpJET-CtWNexxxg6mUyZHBpqMLUNW5o-UYF1pzh-OIyolI7qCmleq44dFfcza6OsBj1o2gQ74EIteyr-c1QKoeDur6E-Ezcu5JtYIqopbrrgWxEweCy3o7Sxang2kOQ22OxWWpRQ/s320/imagesCAKII45M.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
You know the problem is there and you think to yourself "we need to solve this". As everyone looks at you to make the next move; you decide to remove the elephant the only way that seems appealing to you...you whip that carpet right off of that poor elephant, climb up on top of it and ride it right out of the room. In real life this would mean: the problem may not be yours but you know that the only way out of the problem is to walk it right out of the room. You can bring it up, let them know you know it is there, calm those who are scared and propose ideas for those who want to be involved in solving the problem. Give them opportunity to rise to the occasion. When all else fails, I suggest riding that elephant right out of that room and solving the issue right then and there. Did you go around the issue and ignore it? No. Did you address the issue directly and move straight through it? Yes. And which in life do you think would provide the best results in the end? I say elephant riding all the way boys! Don't assume however that everyone will be happy with your choice, but understand that it very well may be the healthiest, safest and most productive manor in which one could ever solve the age old issue of the elephant in the room (or under the rug!)<br />
<br />
May you always have the courage to ride the elephant even when I may have not always shown you how to do it. I will work harder at this task Grant and Jake because a healthy family is one that is open and one that keeps the elephants out of the house and definitely not hidden under the rugs :-)<br />
Love Always, <br />
Mom<br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin5O9m-tBel4VSQr84Xt5-CumM4SYU_3WM-dtOtthVaNuydNEX70Km4XKfkTMijmX6pnEG5xp7elJXu2F9CiB9OdQNRC9mxIEtN83AEOs4w3kMn1bcnCTUOwjoyAsV7p729jmsvuK0P_tx/s1600/imagesCA6E5PBR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div>Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-92042265907103751322011-06-30T21:50:00.000-05:002011-06-30T21:50:48.324-05:00"Like a Jungle Paradise"<em>My Mom wrote this today and I find it is perfect for this blog. I am going to sign her on as another author so she can post directly to my page. I will start signing my name to the posts I write and she can do the same for her posts. Due to my new job I miss many of these moments and Mom is wonderful at catching those wonderful little magical pieces of life. She grabs them and squeezes them for all the beauties we were really meant to be witnessing. Life really is simple. We just make it so stinking complicated. ~Jo</em><br />
<br />
The other day I was babysitting my 2 grandsons, Grant 6 and Jake almost 4, at their new home in the country. My daughter and son-in-law have been working on getting this home built for almost 2 years. This location is their dream location....on the farm where her grandfather was raised. This is the location where she remembers visiting her Great Grandma ( a very sweet and special lady) and going to the timber. The timber has always been a place of relaxation and fun for us. Whether it was hiking the trails that her Grandpa (my father-in-law) kept groomed or cooking out at the camp site, we would always enjoy the rest from our busy lifestyle. Just as important as all these memories she had was the opportunity to give her boys the joys and experiences of living in the country. If you have been raised on a farm like all of our family, you understand what this means. It is impossible to explain to anyone that does not feel this passion for such things. Living in town is a form of torment for those with the "country spirit". Luckily, even though her husband was born and raised in town, he has an appreciation for the timber and outdoors, so falling in love with the location which is outside his home town didn't take long. Not only is this property bordered by farm land and Grandpa's timber, but also by a few memories from Grandpa's childhood, such as the concrete slab from the homestead back porch, the barn, the old garage, and some pine trees that Grandpa planted as his high school FFA project as a windbreak more than 65 years ago. (These trees are an important part of this story.) Unfortunately this has been an extremely wet year and 3" or more rains have become all too frequent....not to mention lightning and wind. Recently, I was staying there one night when one of those storms hit. First the power was knocked out during the bad storm, but then the winds grew so strong that we decided to take the children to the basement. As we headed down, my daughter mentioned noticing that it looked like a tree went down in the yard as the lightning lit the sky. Sure enough, the next morning when I went to go to town to run some errands with the boys, Grant noticed a tree fallen at the corner of the driveway. I asked if he was sure and he indicated, "Yes Grandma, I can see the roots sticking up in the air." While it was a large blue spruce, at least it wasn't one of Grandpa's trees. But when returning from town, I noticed that where Grandpa's pines had stood behind the house, 2 now lay down with the roots out of the ground. All lying horizontal on what was now a marsh like area. The trees had seemed fine and solid enough earlier this spring when my son had removed one that had died. But now the ground was so saturated that the shallower roots of these evergreen trees could not stand the winds. You could only go near the trees with boots there had been so much rain. Finally after a few more rains followed by a few sunny days, we could venture out to see the trees. So that is where Grant, Jake and I ventured to the other day. Being a farm girl myself, I couldn't wait to put my boots on and tromp through there to see what wonders were hidden as much as the boys. I wondered around the trees to make sure it looked solid enough for climbing on...and by then the boys had found a way to climb onto the trunk and start adventuring through the tree branches. The conversation goes something like this: "Wow, this is like a jungle" exclaims Grant with excitement in his voice. "Yeah, a jungle," Jake agrees. A multitude of happy squeals and laughter continues as they slowly progress up the length of the tree. "This is like paradise," proclaims Grant. "Yeah, like a jungle paradise," mimics Jake. Earlier that same day, Grant had begged me to take them out to the timber on the ATV that their "Dad's Dad" had in the barn. I explained that I would need permission to use this vehicle, so maybe another day. But Grant, relentless in his sense of adventure, begged for me to let him walk to the timber...he assured me he knew the path. (I am sure this is foreshadowing of stories still to come). I knew in my heart that this is what my daughter had anticipated for her boys to share in the wonder of the adventures we had experienced in all of our childhoods. What fun they will have...what memories they will build. This surely would make all the headaches of building this house seem worthwhile. At the moment that Grant declared this "paradise" I knew it was true....this was his paradise. - Written By (Grandma) KathyJoanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-73234749957440326562011-04-10T13:01:00.000-05:002011-04-11T20:20:05.462-05:00The Dawn Before the Morning<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/MniOtRnCO9I?fs=1" width="425"></iframe><br />
I think about the words "morning" and "mourning"....and for me "morning" is a new day; while "mourning" is "the dawn before the morning". It's aways been odd to me when I hear the word morning; I hear my Mother's voice on those rough mornings during my junior year of high school when I hated school every day. I have always been a morning person but in rough times you can always tell when I am struggling by how I wake up. My mother would come in on rough mornings, and as I can only imagine now, she was most surely dreading the coming task at hand. Teenagers are difficult. Girls are worse. She called me her self raising child- except for during a brief time when I was 14 and another when I was being bullied when I was as a junior in high school. She didn't need to tell me to do my homework, go to bed, respect adults, be on time, etc., I just did. God forbid I would ever upset anyone or fall from the "perfect expectations" I made for myself in my head. Punishment really isn't necessary for me- I guarantee I am already punishing myself in some form for my "imperfections". A look of disappointment- worse than any punishment for me. I still always forget that when I wake in the morning it will be a new day, and today is a gift from God. I'm in need of a reminder that on the other side of that sunrise is forgiveness and a new day, healing, peace, ease in suffering, and another chance.<br />
Back when I was a junior in high school she would open the door and say these words every morning if she could tell I wasn't going to be getting myself up and ready on my own. What I remember most is the conviction of tone from Mom. She never let my attitude change her belief that what she would say was going to be the way she had lived and felt in her life ever since she had overcome her own personal wars. Her words were as follows: "This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it!" then as the pillow was flying at her she would say right on cue with cheer and a bit of silliness mixed with pure antagonism-"Besides- the sun is singing and the birds are shining!" She has always been like that. When I put the boys to bed I never say "Don't let the bed bugs bite" I say:"Don't bite the bugs!" No pillows at my head- just giggles. Lucky me- unlucky Mom- but I don't think she has ever seen it that way. You see, Mom has always made it very clear that the morning was new- the sunrise was beautiful and the sunsets- oh the sunsets- we loved the sunsets (we still watch them together when we can). She taught me to see symbolism in everything. If the sun is setting in the sky (pause and enjoy the beauty and do not grieve the loss of the day- know that it will come up tomorrow). <br />
I couldn't quite write about the funeral after writing about the morning of the day that we attended Rev. Workman's funeral. This is why I left the last entry with a simple: to be continued... In order to write on I have to write this entry. Even though I feel a need to throw a pillow at Mom for some odd reason. I hear her words in my head and feel like getting out of bed "in the morning of our mourning". I have to write through it and not around it in order to heal. I believe I told Grant the afternoon we attended the funeral that we have to go through tough stuff in life -no matter how much we want to pretend it didn't happen. I told him that even when he moves to Africa (he says he plans on living in Africa because his animal encyclopedia shows that he can find all of the creatures he wants to see in Africa.....) he can't just ignore the sad stuff- he has to go through it- we can't just "walk around it". I asked him if I could help him with any questions he had after church when we came home and he was sitting on the couch just staring with such a sad look in his big beautiful eyes.<br />
He said he wanted to go to the funeral. I called my sister in law and I think I also talked to my best friend about it that day as well but I can't remember. I know I talked to Dan. I asked Dan if he would go with me. I wanted him there with me for purely selfish reasons. I needed my family. I do believe I asked my sister-in-law, Kara, about my concerns with Grant going to the funeral. I wouldn't have felt so hesitant if he hadn't been showing so much terrible grief. I wasn't sure what to do. He is incredibly sensitive to emotion, but not just his own, more so to the emotions of those around him. I know he "wanted to see what Steve looked like now", so that made me think he needed closure, but felt that since the casket would be closed he wouldn't get the kind of closure he really wanted. He is old enough and in times of great need he knows when it is time to take things seriously- so I explained once again, there would be many people crying, the church would be completely filled, (more than we had ever seen it), and Mommy may also cry a whole lot. He may feel like there are too many people around him or he may feel happy that so many people cared about Steve. It may bother him that Steve will be in a casket and he will not know what it looks like to be "not alive". We talked about how Steve wasn't inside the casket and that it was just his body. We have had many conversations before about the body being just like a car- it takes us where we need to go, we have to take care of it and keep it filled up with gas (food and water), but what is really important is the stuff inside. The stuff inside our bodies are the most important, (just like the stuff that is important inside our vehicles), it is our love, our thoughts, our feelings, and the part that believes in God,.....the part that makes us cry when we are sad and the part that makes us laugh when something is funny,......the part that makes our hearts hurt when people we love or care about die;- it is called our "soul" and that is the "important stuff" our bodies carry around. When we die that is the part that goes to to heaven...(I didn't go into the complexities of who goes to heaven- I don't know if I will ever do that b/c I struggle with that anyway and I hope he someday will simply come to his own conclusion that brings him his own peace.)<br />
I'm not sure if the universe simply wanted us to not take the boys to the funeral or if it was a random mistake on our part that we thought we had asked Ted's parents to watch Jake and maybe Grant so that we could go to the funeral. We called his parents house up to the very last minute and we were unable to reach them so we simply settled on the unpleasant idea that we might have a wild 3 year old to restrain and a bawling 6 year old. There was one....ONE place left in the church balcony so we took it. Grant climbed onto my lap which is something he hasn't done in public for quite some time. Ted finally became so frustrated with Jake's interrupting yet normal 3 year old behavior he took him outside. Honestly I am sure Jake knew what was going on in a small way. He knew it was about the minister and he knew it was sad- so he acted out. It makes perfect sense to me because Jake often draws the attention away from things that are important with certain antics. I believe it is a coping skill he has developed. During the funeral Grant's eyes continually rained tears down his sweet little face. Since I had never seen my little boy's heart hurt like this I began to cry as well. I just kept rocking him and catching his tears with my arm just as they fell off of his face. He clung to me and we held on to each other tightly as if we secretly were reminding each other that we never want to have to live without the other. I squeezed his leg three times and paused and waited for what I knew would follow, he reached over to my hand and squeezed it three times as well...this is how we say, "I love you" without words. When the funeral was over Grant wanted to know if he could touch the casket. I told him that we could go down to look at the flowers, his picture and robe and if he wanted to touch the casket I would stand right with him and hold his hand. So we worked our way back downstairs and admired the flowers. He pointed at a flower arrangement shaped like a heart and had a ribbon across it and he said to me, "Mommy- that's says Daddy on it!" I told him that those were the flowers that Natalie had picked out for her Daddy. You could see in Grant's eyes that at that very moment was the point it all clicked. If I was in his brain this is what I would have heard: "Natalie's Daddy had died. My Daddy didn't die. I can't imagine loosing my Daddy. I feel so bad for Natalie. Where's Daddy!" At that moment Grant had begun to feverishly look about himself to find his Dad. His Dad appeared to him and he calmed down. He kept walking along the side of the casket staring with wide eyes- yet did not touch it. He walked over to Steve's picture and when he looked at that picture he started to cry pretty hard. I got on my knees and hugged him. I asked him if there was anything I could do for him or if he had any questions. He asked if he could touch the casket and I said yes, he walked up to it, but he did not actually touch the casket. I told him that when he was ready we were going join everyone downstairs at the meal. He was ready so we joined them downstairs and I have never seem him so quiet and reserved for such a long period of time before in my entire life. When everyone else was talking, some laughing and sharing their own conversations it seemed as if his mind was still on Steve or Natalie or simply the enormity of death itself. Grant remained this way for a couple of days but every day he showed improvement. One night he asked me if I was going to die when he was little. I told him-"Oh honey- I do everything in my power to protect myself, Daddy, you and Jake from harm....Not if I have anything to say about it!!!" He didn't like my answer. I didn't like my answer. It is just that I used to make Grandpa promise me he would never die and he always told me "Honey I won't live forever and someday I will die and you will have to prepare yourself for that so don't make me make a promise that simply would be a lie." I hated hearing that truth, but I can't get myself to ever say those words to my kids- no matter how old they get. There is no easy way around it because in all honesty- no child should ever see their parent(s) die; and no parent should experience the pain of outliving their child. If it wasn't for the hope and faith I have in heaven I couldn't deal with death at all. But, I do honestly believe we will be seeing them again when it is our time. Until then I think they pop into and out of our dreams, and act as our guardian angels when we are at the lowest of all the valley's in life.Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-2000946438590088212011-04-01T21:30:00.000-05:002011-04-11T19:33:53.492-05:00"HE ISN'T INSIDE MY HEART! WHERE IS HE!"<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1CSVqHcdhXQ?fs=1" width="425"></iframe><br />
I opened the car door with absolutely no plan in mind for what I would teach this morning during Sunday School. There are those days when all other lessons just go out the door and you simply let the children guide you. After being through such a terrible loss the children didn't have the ability to grasp the enormity of what was going on around them today.<br />
Like every Sunday I opened Jake's car door and unbuckled him and said to him, "wait for your brother Jake, you need to hold his hand in the parking lot." On the way to church this morning the boys were quite hyper as usual and I wanted them to respect those in the church who were mourning in their own ways. I know there is no real way to explain this to a 6 and 3 year old, but I tried my best: "Boys, you must understand that today you may see adults and other younger kids crying because they are sad. They may need to cry and church is a very safe place to talk about these feelings we have about missing Steve. (Rev. Workman). It is a safe place to ask questions about him or dying and heaven. Remember how Mommy always says- you don't get to choose your family- but you stick with them and you help them through everything they need?" Grant replied, "yes." I continued: " Well when you belong to a church you belong to another family. Did you know you had that many families?" Grant then asked right away- just as we were pulling into the parking lot- "how can we go in there if Steve isn't going to be there anymore?" I pulled into the parking spot as I said to both boys, "Rev. Steve will not be here anymore on earth- but we will see him in heaven again someday. He also left us with a minister to fill in until we found another one and just because he isn't where we can see him doesn't mean that he doesn't live in your heart." Jake said, "HE ISN'T INSIDE MY HEART! WHERE IS HE?!" As Jake got out of the car he squat down onto the ground and started to whimper and I gently said, "Honey, Steve has gone to live and sing and dance with the angels in heaven...." I didn't know what to say. He laid down on the cement and cried "I don't wanna go in there- he isn't with the angles- he doesn't get inside my heart!" I wanted to lay down with him and cry also. Then Grant, who has been taking this whole experience the worst (visually) says to us- (with a forced bright and cheerful smile on his face-) "but Jake, We get to see him again- just not for a really long time. It isn't forever, just until we go to heaven!" Since Jake is three and quite easily encouraged by Grant he stood right up, held Grant's hand and into the church they walked hand in hand, yet almost arm in arm. I caught a glimpse of Grant's face as he thought nobody was looking and a tear ran down his face. I think my sweetheart just wanted us to feel like we could do it. I followed behind and wanted to yell out really loud as if I needed a confession before entering this church today: ( I kept it inside for the boys). If I could have I would have screamed "God forgive me for the way I disagreed with the Workman's I had no idea the amount of pain and suffering they must have been enduring behind the scene. I said things I should have never said- Yet- I must deal with that myself. I reap what I sow." I know Rev. Workman was a kind hearted and loving man- but I always knew there was hurting inside of his heart and body. The thing about people is that they think that expressing their suffering will cause some sort of grief that is more intense than what they are already enduring. I have found that some of my grief has united me with many who have endured the same sufferings and grief. I recently discovered that someone I never could understand or tolerate has dealt with a debilitating disease ever since I have known this person. I can't for the life of me figure out why nobody ever simply says I am suffering from (fill in the blank), I know I have done (A,B &C) but please show me mercy and grace and understand that I never asked for such a horrible affliction. I am exceedingly forgiving to people with disease in which they need no other judgement for... Mental, Emotional, Physical....none of it matters, but how do you expect me to understand or to not expect you to live up to your responsibilities when I do not know otherwise? I love that song by John Meyer called "Say What You Need to Say". I feel I live most of my life trying to get people to say what they need to say. I do it by putting myself out there- exposing my flaws and human conditions that aren't always appealing.<br />
I am personally blessed to know that I felt as if there was a healing that had taken place the Sunday after Superbowl Sunday at church. His sermon was one of those sermons that make you feel it inside the core of your soul. When that happens I am too moved to leave my thank you unsaid (no matter who said it!) So I simply waited until everyone else was done talking to him after church and I hugged him so hard for more than a "thank you for the sermon"- although that is basically what I told him. I told him his sermon moved me like no other had for a very long time and I could tell it came directly from his heart. I told him I was sorry for any pain I had caused him. He chuckled and said,"I'm excited to hear you have joined Jan Rockwell on the Education Committee and I just know good things are coming- I can feel it." I think that was the last conversation I ever got to have with him. My guilt overwhelmed me at one point so much after his death- I could barely breath. It occurred to me that my judgement of people, things and issues has gotten out of control. I never let myself admit that I just may very well be wrong about issues I have perceived and that well....I am not the ultimate judge, I never have been and I never will be.<br />
On the morning of the funeral and after we had gotten Jake into the church, I started Sunday School by asking how the boys were feeling today. I asked if they knew what was different about this Sunday that wasn't like any other Sunday we had ever had.... They were quiet and Grant said "the minister died". I paused and we prayed for a moment and I said "I have lots of feelings and sometimes I just don't have the right words for them. Can you help me by telling me how you feel? Do you have words for how you feel? I know I want to cry"... (because I was welling up with tears- I just wanted to get them to understand that they could talk about it and they could be in a safe place). I was very clear that if they didn't want to talk about it they didn't have to, I remember asking if it were okay if we spent our time in Sunday School remembering Steve and they all shook their heads "okay". They all did so well I wish you could have heard their responses. I made sure to stick in my token "Is it okay to cry when we feel sad?" question. I waited for an answer but didn't need one- they all three sat there with tears welling up in their eyes. So I said, "Crying when someone you care about has died is normal, crying when you are sad is normal. Remember when we cry it helps us get all that sad and mad out. I asked them if they remembered the sir pops-a-lot and miss-hiss-a-bit children's sermon I had given. They remembered. <br />
(For those of you who don't know what I am speaking of- it addressed the concept that holding our emotions inside and not taking our worries to God or any other safe place caused us to "POP" and I had a red balloon with a face on it that I blew air into every time the kids gave me any emotion. Sir Pops-A-Lot couldn't keep holding all of the emotions and he eventually popped echoing loudly inside of the church. Miss-Hiss-A-Bit was a yellow balloon with a face on it as well. She was also blown up when she put her emotions in. But when she got fuller than she would like she let out the air. Sometimes it made a funny noise (I pulled the balloon tight and let air out as it hissed/squealled the air(feelings) out, then I let more feelings in and had her make short bursts of air (WHOOFFS) when I let go of the opening for a split second at a time. Finally I showed a way we might also want to avoid- I filled her back up with the emotions but at one point I let her go and she flew wildly across and all over the congregation. She had lost control of her emotions. Even though she wasn't ruined like "Sir Pops-No-More", she was far from where she had started and stretched out/ worn out. So I taught them the importance of letting a little bit of that air out at a time even if it made a noise (crying)- By the way I actually came up with that idea when I was watching the boys blowing up balloons in the living room and I was so angry that day about a personal issue that I felt like popping when all of the sudden I heard the explosion of the balloon and the sadness from my son because that balloon was ruined forever. I wanted to change how much anger I held inside until I exploded. I was on my way to a "Sir-Pops-A-Lot" Moment, so I wrote that for my sons and it turned into a children's sermon.) <br />
When they remembered the children's sermon Jake ran to the corner of the room and grabbed a balloon from my previous Sunday school lesson- (We made balloon hats)- and the other boys seemed to tear up again. So I let them know at that point we were going to have a safe room for crying, laughing, sharing, or any feelings they needed to share. We then cut some giant hearts out of red construction paper and I handed one to each of the boys. I told them I have lots of good memories of Steve or things I think he was very good at doing and things I remember he did for me. I shared three things and I told them to think about something like that for themselves. They were given decoration materials to decorate the hearts first while they thought of their words. When they were done decorating and writing their cards/ hearts I noticed they had all written Dear Rev. Steve or Dear Rev. Workman at the top of their hearts. They could have made them out to his wife or daughter, but they had something to say to him I guess. My personal favorites were "I loved your biggest smile! or "I will miss you!" After we were finished they went into the music room and the two oldest boys Griffin and Grant asked their music teacher if they could sing, "I've got peace like a river..." I was impressed and blown away. They still had tears in their eyes. Grant loves music and sometimes you can catch him singing around other people but most of the time he will only sing around me. He loves that song, I have been singing it to him since he was a baby.<br />
Before our church service started their giant hearts were placed under his chair next to the pulpit where his robe hung off the back of the chair. During the children's sermon a book was read to the children called "The Fall of Freddie the Leaf: A Story of Life for All Ages" by Leo Buscalgia- and the woman who read it to the children did it better than I could have on my best day and her's was about loss to help the children. At one point during the children's sermon, Jake, who was sitting on Natalie's (the minister's daughter's lap) leaned back and said to her- loud enough I heard it in the balcony- "He isn't here anymore (while pointing to Steve's chair), he died." Natalie looked back at him and shook her head. To be Continued....<br />
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This day went on as the funeral was later that afternoon, but I have decided to turn it into a separate blog for the sake of the reader.Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-9861903427827120692011-02-28T12:45:00.000-06:002011-02-28T12:45:20.779-06:00What a compliment!Anonymous wrote that it had been almost two weeks since I had last written and it was time for another entry so I suppose I better think up an idea today and write when the kiddos get to bed tonight. BTW anonymous- you made my day! <br />
Check back later :-)Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093262031443922263.post-43778668080026252382011-02-14T23:36:00.000-06:002011-02-14T23:36:42.399-06:00Look Mom- No FloorI think it is funny how I decide what I am going to write about for my blogs. I simply let my brain think of a funky sentence "title" and then I just start writing based on that phrase or sentence. I was going to talk about how moving church was the other day (it moved most of us to tears), how many subbing jobs I am getting and have scheduled and how much I love subbing, I was going to talk about how I am the most terrified to sub for kindergarten and guess what grade I am subbing tomorrow? I just get so nervous b/c they need more than one teacher/aid and a very strict routine. I'm taking my Shel Silverstien (sp.) book with me in case I have down time and I am also taking name tags, and my award certificates for great behavior, great leaders, and great teamwork....this age scares me (even though I have a child that age). I was going to talk about how much fun I had at Grant's Valentine's Party at school today when I helped out, or how psycho my boys got after eating so much candy- but I am running out of time and need to get to bed and the only thing I could think of was "Look Mom -No Floor!"- I am referring to how all of the Valentines and decorations are all spread across the floor and the laundry is piled and ready to be folded by the chair and how the blocks and Star Wars guys are scattered perfectly in just the right places all over the floor. I think we have covered every inch of the living room floor. I noticed my Mom has become a follow now! Cool! Welcome Mom! So my title somehow came out like that....sorry- wish I had more time! Happy Valentines Day- but really if you love someone you really shouldn't just celebrate it one time a year. Tell them everyday and every time you think of it....So family and friends- I love you!Joanna Reinhardt-Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15574369174455795148noreply@blogger.com1