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O.K....this Walking With You is a little late, but I am featuring two sweet mama bloggers this week. Hope that makes up for it! I hope you will take a few minutes to show some love to these moms this week.
Please meet Chelle and read her beautiful, heart-wrenching, and inspiring letter to her daughter April. Since you can't comment on the letter, It would be so kind of you to click on her most recent post and let her know that you stopped by her blog, and you read about her little April. Show her some love and keep her in your prayers this week!
--------------
You may already know Jennifer and the story of her little Eli. Will you do me a favor and read the beginning of his story and then click on Jennifer's most recent post, and let her know that you are praying for her this week, anyway...even if you already read her blog. Let her know that this week, you will take some time to remember her Eli and pray for her. It really means so much to another mother walking this path...to know that she doesn't walk alone...that she is being lifted in prayer.
Thank you so much....love to all. Stay tuned...next month, we will be planning some activities to commemorate National Pregnancy Loss and Remembrance month.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
We're Back! And Ready to Show Some WWY Love to my Dear Bloggy Friend, Kathryn
Please join me showing some Walking With You love to my dear bloggy-friend, Kathryn...mommy to Seth and author of the Expectant Hearts blog.
Sweet Seth was born in March 2008 and went home to heaven on October 12, 2008 due to complications from a heart condition. Please take some time to read his beautiful story as told from the heart of his sweet mama. Click here to read Seth's Story.
These words are found in the header of Kathryn's blog:
Why Expectant Hearts? When we were unexpectedly pregnant with our fourth child, he was diagnosed with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome. As a family, which includes Sean, 11, Cary, 7, Kayleigh, 3, Seth (6 1/2 months old when he went to Heaven on Oct. 12, 2008)and Leland & I, we wait with "expectant hearts" for the miracles our Lord & Savior unfolds in our lives. This is a place to document that journey and share our stories, and those miracles, with family and friends.
Thank you in advance for showing love to this mama and taking time to pray for her and her family this week as they continue to find a way to walk this earth without their sweet baby boy...
Sweet Seth was born in March 2008 and went home to heaven on October 12, 2008 due to complications from a heart condition. Please take some time to read his beautiful story as told from the heart of his sweet mama. Click here to read Seth's Story.
These words are found in the header of Kathryn's blog:
Why Expectant Hearts? When we were unexpectedly pregnant with our fourth child, he was diagnosed with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome. As a family, which includes Sean, 11, Cary, 7, Kayleigh, 3, Seth (6 1/2 months old when he went to Heaven on Oct. 12, 2008)and Leland & I, we wait with "expectant hearts" for the miracles our Lord & Savior unfolds in our lives. This is a place to document that journey and share our stories, and those miracles, with family and friends.
Thank you in advance for showing love to this mama and taking time to pray for her and her family this week as they continue to find a way to walk this earth without their sweet baby boy...
Where We Come From...and Who We Are
Saturday, our Contemporary Praise and Worship band, One Way, played at the Liberty Center Fall Festival. I awoke early in the morning tossing and turning. Many times before I stand before a crowd to speak or sing, I am plagued with a spiritual battle that leaves my stomach in knots. I do all that I can, praying through it...meditating on scripture. But, often the struggle is strong. It sounds so easy to lay it all at the feet of Jesus. Sometimes, it isn't so simple.
This time, the battle was personal. It was more than just getting up in front of people to sing about Jesus. That, as my husband says, is a privilege that we should feel honored to do...not overwhelmed by the thought. Our goal is simply to bring glory to Him. He is so right, and there are times when it is a "taking every thought captive" exercise for me to cling to that truth and resist the temptation to let my emotions get the better of me.
As we drove the once familiar path to the home town of my parents, the current home of my grandparents, and several aunts and uncles the September winds were suddenly thick with smothering memories from my childhood. It is an amazing thing how a place can hold such history that it almost feels as if the place itself has a life of it's own...so many stories to tell.
We drove over the narrow bridge that I've never been fond of. I closed my eyes and I was seven years old, riding in my dad's red Mazda, eating McDonald's chicken nuggets with hot mustard sauce, dreading the narrow bridge that took us to Grandma's house. I loved visiting my Grandma, but the bridge was a different story.
I suddenly realized that going to sing in the town where my mother and father grew up may hold more emotional obstacles than my typical pre-show stomach ache. I doubled over and tried to shake the emotion. I rarely travel that way, and going back reminds me of so many childhood moments...the missing of those who are no longer here washes over me with such intensity. We drove past the house where my paternal grandparents once lived across from the Dairy Queen. I used to love their french fries. Yes, I know that Dairy Queen is known for ice cream, but I only seem to remember the fries. (Have I mentioned that I've never met a carbohydrate I didn't like?) I also remember my Grandma Wanda's love for vibrant purple and her lilac lipstick.
We stopped beside the semi-trailer that would serve as our make-shift stage, preparing to unload our plethora of gear and instruments, and I looked up at the orange and white water tower behind us. My breath caught in my throat, and I was again a little girl, holding my maternal Grandmother's hand as we entered the grocery store. My eyes followed the path down Main Street, to the beautiful display prepared by my childhood babysitter, who now redecorates furniture (and does an amazing job I might add). I realized that this day, there would be no hiding from the memories of the September winds.
My mother walked these sidewalks before me, and for the rest of that day, I would represent her to the people of this town who remember her shining face. She would be carried with me, and they would be looking for a reflection of her as they looked into my eyes. I would not be the person I am today...the person who I am most days as I go about life: Kelly Gerken...wife to Tim, mother to Timothy, Faith, Grace, Thomas, and James, founder of Sufficient Grace Ministries, educational para to special needs children. No...that day, I would be Pat and Kathy's daughter. My father lives in another state, and has since I was about eight or ten. My mother passed away in 2006, and prior to her death, I spent a great deal of my life exerting my stubborn independence from her. (However, I did learn to treasure and appreciate her before she died.) All that to say, I haven't spent much time identifying myself in those terms. But in this quaint small town, much like the one where I grew up, and still reside...I would be known as Pat and Kathy's daughter.
My father's best friend, and the best man in my parent's wedding walked by as we unloaded our gear. I smiled and said "hello", realizing that the memories would be all around as the day wore on. I shook the hand of the sweet lady who invited us to perform at the event, and as I introduced myself, she said, "I would know you anywhere." I nodded again. When I went over to talk to my childhood babysitter, she introduced me to the man beside her, and he said, "You look a lot like your mother." It went on as the day continued. Several others saying..."You're Pat's daughter...or You're Kathy's daughter aren't you? Does your dad still have that curly hair? Boy your mom was quite a wonderful lady." It's funny, growing up, people always said I looked like my dad. But, since mom passed, everyone says I look like her. I see it too, when I look in the mirror. I wonder sometimes if we don't all just miss her so much that we want to catch a glimpse of her any way we can. I don't really mind being that glimpse. It's an honor, but it does stir the emotions already brewing this time of year.
I thought about that for the rest of the day...how it matters where we come from. All of our experiences make up the person we are, whether we understand how it works or not. It may be more of a small town thing. I'm not really sure. Other than visiting, I don't really have any big city experience. I've always lived in a small town, and my parents came from (a different, but much the same kind of) small town. And, in a small town, it matters where you came from, and who you "belong to". In a small town, those details somewhat define who you are.
Prior to stepping on to the stage, I was wondering how I would "put on Christ" and shake the emotions squeezing my heart. Tim knew, and gently reminded me that we were here to serve the Lord. I nodded, more full of feelings than I wanted to be. I blinked back a few tears and turned to an older gentleman with a ball cap and an almost toothless grin waving me to come over. I stepped away from the stage and walked over to him. He asked what kind of music we played and shared that he played the banjo and several other instruments, including a harmonica, which he promptly removed from his pocket and began to play for me. In the middle of Main Street. Surrounded by the Festival passerby. I did what anyone else would do. I smiled and clapped along, tapping my feet to the beat as he played proudly.
Then...he began to yodel.
You heard me.
He yodelled right there on Main Street...in the midst of the festival, and I forgot for a few minutes all the history surrounding me. I forgot everything but the sweet man, yodelling a song for me in the middle of Main Street and the God of my heart who sent him there to let me know that He always knows exactly what I need. I wasn't sure how I would muster the courage to take that stage, with all of those emotions. God knew what I needed. And, he sent a harmonica-playing yodeller to do the job.
He told me his name and shook my hand, then wrapped his arms around me in a big hug. And off he went.
We went "backstage" and Dave led us in prayer. Then we climbed the steps and just as it usually happens when I opened my mouth to sing, the peace of the Holy Spirit washed over me. For the next 52 minutes, the only thing that mattered was being a vessel of praise for Him. The only thing that mattered was singing the name of Jesus in the town of my parents. The only thing that mattered was the smile on the faces of the children dancing joyfully in front of our "stage" and my maternal grandparents sitting by James and smiling as we played/sang. For the next 52 minutes He lifted me, as He is always faithful to do. And, I was free. I was Kelly Gerken, daughter of the King, put here to serve Him, and bring Him glory. And that was all that mattered.
My harmonica-playing, yodelling friend even came back and played his harmonica in the crowd during our performance, tapping his feet and smiling with his eyes. I smiled back, wondering about our encounter.
(Thanks, Glenn and Toni for taking this pic!)
Later, I asked several people if they knew who he was. Everyone knows everyone in a small town.
No one knew him, or where he came from...but he was there. And, he blessed and encouraged me in a way that I didn't even know I needed. Interesting, don't you think?
This time, the battle was personal. It was more than just getting up in front of people to sing about Jesus. That, as my husband says, is a privilege that we should feel honored to do...not overwhelmed by the thought. Our goal is simply to bring glory to Him. He is so right, and there are times when it is a "taking every thought captive" exercise for me to cling to that truth and resist the temptation to let my emotions get the better of me.
As we drove the once familiar path to the home town of my parents, the current home of my grandparents, and several aunts and uncles the September winds were suddenly thick with smothering memories from my childhood. It is an amazing thing how a place can hold such history that it almost feels as if the place itself has a life of it's own...so many stories to tell.
We drove over the narrow bridge that I've never been fond of. I closed my eyes and I was seven years old, riding in my dad's red Mazda, eating McDonald's chicken nuggets with hot mustard sauce, dreading the narrow bridge that took us to Grandma's house. I loved visiting my Grandma, but the bridge was a different story.
I suddenly realized that going to sing in the town where my mother and father grew up may hold more emotional obstacles than my typical pre-show stomach ache. I doubled over and tried to shake the emotion. I rarely travel that way, and going back reminds me of so many childhood moments...the missing of those who are no longer here washes over me with such intensity. We drove past the house where my paternal grandparents once lived across from the Dairy Queen. I used to love their french fries. Yes, I know that Dairy Queen is known for ice cream, but I only seem to remember the fries. (Have I mentioned that I've never met a carbohydrate I didn't like?) I also remember my Grandma Wanda's love for vibrant purple and her lilac lipstick.
We stopped beside the semi-trailer that would serve as our make-shift stage, preparing to unload our plethora of gear and instruments, and I looked up at the orange and white water tower behind us. My breath caught in my throat, and I was again a little girl, holding my maternal Grandmother's hand as we entered the grocery store. My eyes followed the path down Main Street, to the beautiful display prepared by my childhood babysitter, who now redecorates furniture (and does an amazing job I might add). I realized that this day, there would be no hiding from the memories of the September winds.
My mother walked these sidewalks before me, and for the rest of that day, I would represent her to the people of this town who remember her shining face. She would be carried with me, and they would be looking for a reflection of her as they looked into my eyes. I would not be the person I am today...the person who I am most days as I go about life: Kelly Gerken...wife to Tim, mother to Timothy, Faith, Grace, Thomas, and James, founder of Sufficient Grace Ministries, educational para to special needs children. No...that day, I would be Pat and Kathy's daughter. My father lives in another state, and has since I was about eight or ten. My mother passed away in 2006, and prior to her death, I spent a great deal of my life exerting my stubborn independence from her. (However, I did learn to treasure and appreciate her before she died.) All that to say, I haven't spent much time identifying myself in those terms. But in this quaint small town, much like the one where I grew up, and still reside...I would be known as Pat and Kathy's daughter.
My father's best friend, and the best man in my parent's wedding walked by as we unloaded our gear. I smiled and said "hello", realizing that the memories would be all around as the day wore on. I shook the hand of the sweet lady who invited us to perform at the event, and as I introduced myself, she said, "I would know you anywhere." I nodded again. When I went over to talk to my childhood babysitter, she introduced me to the man beside her, and he said, "You look a lot like your mother." It went on as the day continued. Several others saying..."You're Pat's daughter...or You're Kathy's daughter aren't you? Does your dad still have that curly hair? Boy your mom was quite a wonderful lady." It's funny, growing up, people always said I looked like my dad. But, since mom passed, everyone says I look like her. I see it too, when I look in the mirror. I wonder sometimes if we don't all just miss her so much that we want to catch a glimpse of her any way we can. I don't really mind being that glimpse. It's an honor, but it does stir the emotions already brewing this time of year.
I thought about that for the rest of the day...how it matters where we come from. All of our experiences make up the person we are, whether we understand how it works or not. It may be more of a small town thing. I'm not really sure. Other than visiting, I don't really have any big city experience. I've always lived in a small town, and my parents came from (a different, but much the same kind of) small town. And, in a small town, it matters where you came from, and who you "belong to". In a small town, those details somewhat define who you are.
Prior to stepping on to the stage, I was wondering how I would "put on Christ" and shake the emotions squeezing my heart. Tim knew, and gently reminded me that we were here to serve the Lord. I nodded, more full of feelings than I wanted to be. I blinked back a few tears and turned to an older gentleman with a ball cap and an almost toothless grin waving me to come over. I stepped away from the stage and walked over to him. He asked what kind of music we played and shared that he played the banjo and several other instruments, including a harmonica, which he promptly removed from his pocket and began to play for me. In the middle of Main Street. Surrounded by the Festival passerby. I did what anyone else would do. I smiled and clapped along, tapping my feet to the beat as he played proudly.
Then...he began to yodel.
You heard me.
He yodelled right there on Main Street...in the midst of the festival, and I forgot for a few minutes all the history surrounding me. I forgot everything but the sweet man, yodelling a song for me in the middle of Main Street and the God of my heart who sent him there to let me know that He always knows exactly what I need. I wasn't sure how I would muster the courage to take that stage, with all of those emotions. God knew what I needed. And, he sent a harmonica-playing yodeller to do the job.
He told me his name and shook my hand, then wrapped his arms around me in a big hug. And off he went.
We went "backstage" and Dave led us in prayer. Then we climbed the steps and just as it usually happens when I opened my mouth to sing, the peace of the Holy Spirit washed over me. For the next 52 minutes, the only thing that mattered was being a vessel of praise for Him. The only thing that mattered was singing the name of Jesus in the town of my parents. The only thing that mattered was the smile on the faces of the children dancing joyfully in front of our "stage" and my maternal grandparents sitting by James and smiling as we played/sang. For the next 52 minutes He lifted me, as He is always faithful to do. And, I was free. I was Kelly Gerken, daughter of the King, put here to serve Him, and bring Him glory. And that was all that mattered.
My harmonica-playing, yodelling friend even came back and played his harmonica in the crowd during our performance, tapping his feet and smiling with his eyes. I smiled back, wondering about our encounter.
(Thanks, Glenn and Toni for taking this pic!)
Later, I asked several people if they knew who he was. Everyone knows everyone in a small town.
No one knew him, or where he came from...but he was there. And, he blessed and encouraged me in a way that I didn't even know I needed. Interesting, don't you think?
Monday, September 13, 2010
SGM T-Shirt Winner...Postponing Walking With You
Hi there...I'm just in quickly to announce the winner of the Sufficient Grace Ministries T-shirt and to let everyone know that I will have to postpone this week's Walking With You to next Monday. I am just getting home for the day, and this is a very busy week as our band, One Way, prepares for this Saturday's performance at the Liberty Fall Festival. Our boys also have several activities going on. Sometimes we are not sure if we're coming or going these days...and often that's because we are doing both, and in all directions! I'm sure a lot of families can relate to the juggling of busy schedules.
O.K....enough rambling...
The winner is
Emmy !
Congrats Em...email me the size you would like and the address I should ship it to! Love you, girl!!
I actually used the random.org thingy and it randomly chose #12! Crazy, huh? I don't know how to post the proof like other fancy, techy bloggers I've seen, so you will just have to take my word for it! ;)
If you would like to support Sufficient Grace by wearing your own t-shirt, you can still order one on the Dreams of You Shop page. Please give us a few weeks to get your orders out. We are a little short-staffed right now, and I am waiting on another order of shirts to arrive shortly.
O.K....I must get to bed soon...thank you for your patience and understanding. And, if you get a chance, please lift us in prayer as we continue our coming and going...and as we prepare for next weekend's performance. Thank you for your prayers, your love, and your support. You all bless me so much...and often encourage us to keep going when we are weary.
Love to all...
O.K....enough rambling...
The winner is
Emmy !
Congrats Em...email me the size you would like and the address I should ship it to! Love you, girl!!
I actually used the random.org thingy and it randomly chose #12! Crazy, huh? I don't know how to post the proof like other fancy, techy bloggers I've seen, so you will just have to take my word for it! ;)
If you would like to support Sufficient Grace by wearing your own t-shirt, you can still order one on the Dreams of You Shop page. Please give us a few weeks to get your orders out. We are a little short-staffed right now, and I am waiting on another order of shirts to arrive shortly.
O.K....I must get to bed soon...thank you for your patience and understanding. And, if you get a chance, please lift us in prayer as we continue our coming and going...and as we prepare for next weekend's performance. Thank you for your prayers, your love, and your support. You all bless me so much...and often encourage us to keep going when we are weary.
Love to all...
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Because Babies Don't Keep...And Neither do Teenagers
Cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow,
For babies grow up, we've learned to our sorrow,
So quiet down cobwebs,
Dust, go to sleep,
I'm rocking my baby, and babies don't keep.
~ This little poem is in Timothy's baby book...
I remember reading it, as we rocked and he lay peacefully in my arms more than sixteen years ago. I remember soaking it in, not yet knowing how quickly that sweet time would pass. No one tells you that babies grow up. We mothers know it...no one should need to tell us. But, somehow the intoxicating euphoria of a sweet babe cuddled in our arms keeps us from the inevitable truth.
I've been in a bit of a funk lately (and by lately, I think I mean a couple years!)...trying to find my place as no longer a mother of littles, adjusting to being back to work and another school year, letting go of the old...embracing the new, resisting the memories blowing in with the September winds. I find myself retreating some, circling the wagons, nestling in to soak in this season before it passes like all the others before it.
My littles have grown big. I am not rocking babies anymore. Well, except for my nephew Max. I'll gladly rock him any chance I get. This season of running to and fro, watching my boys play soccer, golf, baseball, or whatever sport is in season...listening to them tell their stories. Enjoying all that goes along with boyworld. It too, will pass. Like babies, pre-teens and teenagers don't keep. How I feel the urgency of soaking in the dwindling time of my eleventh grader's high school years and my fourth grader who is just a hop skip and a jump away from high school himself. It is hard to focus on much else, realizing that soon this season will be over.
I'll admit that while I talk about embracing all the seasons of our lives, my heart is not quite ready to embrace the next one. I am feeling rather sappy as I think of my boy, as I watch him become the young man that he is becoming...one that I admire. One that I'm proud of. One that I love so dearly. When we watched Toy Story 3 this summer, I couldn't keep the tears back, at the thought of Andy going to college to leave his toys behind. I remembered my boy playing with his Woody and Buzz toys. I thought of how he has traded that sweet time, for this one. Life is uncertain, and this world is so big. It's hard not to wonder about all of our choices as parents. It's hard to let go. Sometimes, it's even hard to remember that God is bigger than all the storms that come our way. All of those feelings spilled out in the tears I couldn't hold back as we watched the movie. Timothy shook his head, a little disgusted by my sappiness. (I'm sure he feels that way a lot these days!)
So, if I seem a little preoccupied, a little out of sorts, please be patient with me. I may not be rocking a baby, but I am certainly still trying to soak it all in...to embrace every moment of this season.
Because, children and teenagers just don't keep.
For babies grow up, we've learned to our sorrow,
So quiet down cobwebs,
Dust, go to sleep,
I'm rocking my baby, and babies don't keep.
~ This little poem is in Timothy's baby book...
I remember reading it, as we rocked and he lay peacefully in my arms more than sixteen years ago. I remember soaking it in, not yet knowing how quickly that sweet time would pass. No one tells you that babies grow up. We mothers know it...no one should need to tell us. But, somehow the intoxicating euphoria of a sweet babe cuddled in our arms keeps us from the inevitable truth.
I've been in a bit of a funk lately (and by lately, I think I mean a couple years!)...trying to find my place as no longer a mother of littles, adjusting to being back to work and another school year, letting go of the old...embracing the new, resisting the memories blowing in with the September winds. I find myself retreating some, circling the wagons, nestling in to soak in this season before it passes like all the others before it.
My littles have grown big. I am not rocking babies anymore. Well, except for my nephew Max. I'll gladly rock him any chance I get. This season of running to and fro, watching my boys play soccer, golf, baseball, or whatever sport is in season...listening to them tell their stories. Enjoying all that goes along with boyworld. It too, will pass. Like babies, pre-teens and teenagers don't keep. How I feel the urgency of soaking in the dwindling time of my eleventh grader's high school years and my fourth grader who is just a hop skip and a jump away from high school himself. It is hard to focus on much else, realizing that soon this season will be over.
I'll admit that while I talk about embracing all the seasons of our lives, my heart is not quite ready to embrace the next one. I am feeling rather sappy as I think of my boy, as I watch him become the young man that he is becoming...one that I admire. One that I'm proud of. One that I love so dearly. When we watched Toy Story 3 this summer, I couldn't keep the tears back, at the thought of Andy going to college to leave his toys behind. I remembered my boy playing with his Woody and Buzz toys. I thought of how he has traded that sweet time, for this one. Life is uncertain, and this world is so big. It's hard not to wonder about all of our choices as parents. It's hard to let go. Sometimes, it's even hard to remember that God is bigger than all the storms that come our way. All of those feelings spilled out in the tears I couldn't hold back as we watched the movie. Timothy shook his head, a little disgusted by my sappiness. (I'm sure he feels that way a lot these days!)
So, if I seem a little preoccupied, a little out of sorts, please be patient with me. I may not be rocking a baby, but I am certainly still trying to soak it all in...to embrace every moment of this season.
Because, children and teenagers just don't keep.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Show Some Love to this Week's WWY Feature, Michelle and Read about her sweet Janie Beth
This week's featured blogger on WWY is Michelle Karr from The Journey of the Karr's. She shares the story of her sweet Janie Beth, who was born on December 29, 2009 and lived for 22 hours before going home to heaven on December 30, 2009. Janie suffered from a fatal form of dwarfism. Michelle has three other children, and is currently expecting one more.
In a recent post, Michelle shared the struggles of walking an emotional tightrope, as she grieves the loss of her daughter and awaits the arrival of the child growing within her womb. I think many of us can relate to those tight rope feelings.
Michelle is often offering encouragement and prayers through comments on other blogs. I hope you will take a few minutes this week to stop by and encourage and pray for her.
Also...just wanted to thank you for your kind words while I was on my soapbox last week. I knew you ladies would understand!
Have a blessed week...love to all!
In a recent post, Michelle shared the struggles of walking an emotional tightrope, as she grieves the loss of her daughter and awaits the arrival of the child growing within her womb. I think many of us can relate to those tight rope feelings.
Michelle is often offering encouragement and prayers through comments on other blogs. I hope you will take a few minutes this week to stop by and encourage and pray for her.
Also...just wanted to thank you for your kind words while I was on my soapbox last week. I knew you ladies would understand!
Have a blessed week...love to all!
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Sufficient Grace T-Shirts (and a Giveaway!)
I just ordered several Sufficient Grace Ministries T-Shirts for those who are interested in showing your support to this ministry. We may add more style choices in the future, but for now we will be offering the design that I'm sporting in the picture below. (I'm the one on the left!)
To find out how to order your own, please visit the Dreams of You Shop.
And...just for fun, if you would like a chance to win a Sufficient Grace t-shirt, just leave a comment on this post. Winner will be chosen and announced next Monday, September 13th.
----------------
A Few Coming Events
Saturday, September 11th from 8:30am-11:30am the Helping Hands Ministry will be meeting at Harvest Fellowship Church in Hamler, Ohio to make Comfort Bears for Sufficient Grace. If you are local...and able, we would love your help. No sewing experience required. There are many steps to the process and anyone can contribute. We just need a pair of hands and a willing heart.
Stay tuned to the Coming Events page as I will be updating soon with exact dates regarding another One Way performance (later in September) and I will be speaking at a local church (to the women's ministry) in October. Dates and times to be announced later this week on that page.
Also, check the Walking With You Page Monday afternoon/evening to see this week's WWY featured blogger.
To find out how to order your own, please visit the Dreams of You Shop.
And...just for fun, if you would like a chance to win a Sufficient Grace t-shirt, just leave a comment on this post. Winner will be chosen and announced next Monday, September 13th.
----------------
A Few Coming Events
Saturday, September 11th from 8:30am-11:30am the Helping Hands Ministry will be meeting at Harvest Fellowship Church in Hamler, Ohio to make Comfort Bears for Sufficient Grace. If you are local...and able, we would love your help. No sewing experience required. There are many steps to the process and anyone can contribute. We just need a pair of hands and a willing heart.
Stay tuned to the Coming Events page as I will be updating soon with exact dates regarding another One Way performance (later in September) and I will be speaking at a local church (to the women's ministry) in October. Dates and times to be announced later this week on that page.
Also, check the Walking With You Page Monday afternoon/evening to see this week's WWY featured blogger.
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