When my mother-in-love passed away eight years ago, we spent some time with my father-in-law, helping go through her things. Even though we feel we lost her way too early, she had a lifetime of clothes, craft supplies, Bible class curriculum, and dishes built up. I saved back a few pieces of jewelry, some of her craft items I thought we might want to use later, and some of her Bible class stuff. I also inherited several pairs of her shoes.
But then we discovered an unfinished quilt top.

Maybe this wouldn't be weird in your family. But it in ours, it is. You see, while my mother-in-law knew how to sew, she didn't do it much. And she definitely didn't quilt.
This top was hand-sewn, each horse hand-appliqued. The fabric was faded, but you could tell someone had spent a lot of time creating the piece.
No one in the family knew where it had come from. Our best bet is that maybe her parents had picked it up one time while antiquing and never done anything with it. Then, when they passed away, it ended up in her things. And now, it was in mine. Because I couldn't just get rid of something that had obviously been so special to someone, even if I didn't know who that someone was. I come from a long line of quilters, after all.
A few of the pieces had been stitched in the wrong direction, but that was easy enough to fix. Still, I didn't get around to actually quilting it. It sat in a pile of unfinished projects in my room for years. Then, my mom mentioned that the local quilt shop where she lived would quilt a top for a very reasonable price. I let her take it and have it finished.
Just like that, a piece of history was refreshed and usable. My son had an extra quilt for his bed. We may never know who originally made this quilt top. But now the cover is woven into our family story and given years of use.
Have you ever taken something old and given it new life? Ever discovered an old object among your family's belongings and wondered where it came from? Got any quilt stories?

Everyone told me that life goes fast when you have kids. And I believed them. After all, things have felt faster every year of my life--even before having children. But I don't think I realized they meant it would move more like light speed.
Facebook loves to show me photos I posted in years past, ones of my children as babies. Or even before. And most of it makes me go "aww," or laugh out loud at the fun memories. But it also feels like just yesterday instead of almost a decade ago that we had a baby. Now, we're getting into the pre-teens with my daughter and the ornery stage with my nine-year-old son. It's a whole different kind of being kept on our toes. But it's still going fast.

For instance, I took my kids to the dentist only a few weeks back. Everything was fine. I had asked my daughter if she had another wiggly tooth because she'd lost one not too long before that. She nudged the corresponding tooth with her finger and denied much wiggle. The dentist didn't mention anything. We went on with life.
Fast forward to a week and a half later. We're finishing up a church lunch on Sunday and my daughter walks up to me holding something. "What's that?" I asked her. She places it in my palm. Her tooth. The one that wasn't wiggly.
"How did that happen?"
"Well, I bumped it with my tongue, and it bent over real far so I decided I needed to go pull it. So, I did." My eleven-year-old said in a matter-of-fact tone. She cleaned up the bit of blood in her mouth and went right back to playing with friends.
We've encountered lots of drama this year with her, but apparently, her teeth aren't part of it. Thank God for small favors. Still, I know with each tooth lost, it means closer to a time when we won't have to deal with things like that anymore. Instead, we'll be heading into puberty (BIG GULP) and fashion and maybe even interest in boys. We're getting closer to when she gets her ears pierced (we make her wait until 13), church camp, and even more important changes and decisions as she grows in her faith. She's turning out great so far, but even though we're eleven years in, we're just getting started.
And it's going fast.
So, don't blink. I did and ended up with a tooth in my hand. I know when I blink again, she'll be graduating high school. Or something. My husband likes to quote the line, "The days are long, but the years are short." It's a perfect description of the time we're in right now. I'm attempting to soak it up. Because I don't want to find she's grown all the way up ... out of the blue.
How about you? Did you discover your kids growing up too fast? Did they ever surprise you with something as they matured? Hand you an unexpected tooth out of the blue?

Lots of Christmas trees are decorated beautifully, done up in a theme, color-coordinated and practically perfect. I don't want a tree like that. Ours is covered in handmade ornaments the kids have brought home through the years (and a possibly a few from our own childhood). we have ornaments that commemorated something that happened that year. Or contain photos from events--like the one I made this year that has a picture of us driving a covered wagon from our trip over the summer. 
Is our tree perfect? Definitely not. The kids put all the ornaments on and there are definite spaces where more ornaments cluster together than others. The tree itself is twenty-one years old and losing needles like crazy--plus a few branches. And I don't think I got the lights hung evenly.
But you know? It's okay. Because it has nostalgia.

My tree has two or three strands of bubble lights. Do you know what those are? I took a picture so you could see one. My grandparents always had strands of them on their tree too. So, when I grew up, I knew I wanted some of my own. The little globes warm up the liquid in the part that sticks out until it bubbles like a lava lamp. I'm not sure why I love them so much, but I do. They're just fun.
I also have a small Christmas village. My grandma always had one.
I have a snowman she made a long time ago.
A garland of paper light-shapes strung on rickrack I made in college.
​A gorgeous Santa from a dear friend who passed away several years back.
And each year when I pull those items out, it brings up the memories I made with the people associated with them. It can be bittersweet if it's a person we've lost. Or very sweet if it's a person we still have but haven't talked to in a while.
This is a time of year when the nostalgia is high. We remember Christmases past (without the help of Scrooge's ghost) and soak up the joy of Christmas present, making more memories for Christmas future. We devour foods that we ALWAYS ate (peanut butter balls and divinity anyone?). It's wonderful.
​What's something you prefer to have around at Christmastime to bring up your nostalgia? Any traditions you carry on from generations past?

I can't remember when I quit believing in Santa (honestly, I don't think I have completely). It took me a while, though, because the magic of it all was so strong.
Needless to say, it was exciting when I had kids and could start the tradition with them, picking out fun items to fill stockings, making sure they got a picture with the man in red each year. But this year, they're eleven and nine, and while they still assure me they believe, some of the magic is starting fade.

On Thanksgiving, we were watching the Macy's parade on one channel. It always ends with Santa. Then, we flipped over and watched a parade in Pennsylvania. It also ended with Santa. My kids said, "Wait. He was in both parades? He had to travel fast!"
Of course, they already believe he can travel fast, so that wasn't a terrible problem, but it definitely made them stop and think.
This last Saturday, we attended Breakfast with Santa at church. Our turn came to speak to the gentleman and have our pictures made. Afterward, my daughter looked at me and said, "Mommy, that was just a man pretending to be Santa--a helper." I asked her why she believed that.
"He said he had a grandson."
I assured her Santa was old enough to have a grandson.
She replied, "There are no stories about him."
Let's be honest. There are stories, but I don't think she's read or seen them yet. Still, I think this is the first year she's realized there are people who pretend to be Santa. His "helpers."
So, while she still believes, she's starting to put together some pieces that she hadn't noticed in the past. I know in a few years, she'll discover the "truth." And it will be bittersweet. Part of growing up.
Until then, I plan to enjoy the magic of Christmas morning once again this year, where kids run to discover what was left in stockings and check to see if cookies and milk were eaten.
How about you? Do you still have believers in your house? Is your magic lingering or fading?

A friend and I are both participating in a consignment sale next week. We're encouraging our children to go through their toys and see if we can pare down some before Christmas brings even more. Unsurprisingly, my children only brought out a few little things.
She has a fun plan where she keeps some of their toys packed away and then switches what they have out after a few months so that the toys they haven't been playing with feel new again. It never ceases to amaze me how I think I can get rid of something and then my children will suddenly uncover it and start wanting to play with it. It had bene so long that it felt new to them.

A few weeks ago, we spent a day at my parents' house. My mom had dug out the old view finders we had as kids (and some my dad had when HE was a kid too). When my children discovered them, it didn't matter that they were decades old. It was still fun to them to look through the eye pieces and see the pictures they'd never seen before.
Honestly, it's how I feel every year when I get out holiday decorations (right now I have out fall/Thanksgiving items). I haven't seen these things in a year and it makes the house feel new again. Or rereading a favorite book. Even if I've read it multiple times, if I haven't read it in a while, there's always something I forgot about and the story seems new again.
The same goes for every year when I do my Bible reading. I always discover a verse or two that didn't stick out to me before. Or see things in a different light because of what is going on in my life at that moment. 
Right now, I'm reading a biblical fiction book. I edited one not too long ago. It's always interesting to see how the authors portray stories we've read so many times. When seen from a different angle, we can gain a new perspective. It takes something that feels old and makes it new again. And while we have to be careful with stories like that and not let them take the place in our minds of what we know really happened, it's also a good way to rethink what we think we know and look at it with fresh eyes.
Do you have ways to make old things feel new again? What's something you've rediscovered lately?

Years ago, I worked at a summer day camp outside of Austin, TX. It was fun but exhausting and I based the camp in Faith and Hope on my experience there.
One of the counselor nights, where we all got to go hang out at camp without kids and play around with the different areas ourselves, I decided to try the climbing tower and zip line. I was in much better shape back then than I am now, but still not as strong as I thought I was. I did make it to the top, though the guys up there had to pull me a bit to get me over the edge.
Then, I buckled in and sat at the precipice to do the zip line.

It wasn't a super tall tower. And I knew I was buckled in well. But I couldn't make myself push off.
Sometimes, you need someone else to push you into doing something--even if it's something you want to do. The other counselor up there gave a gentle shove and down I went, soaring through the air. Exhilarating. I probably would've done it again if I hadn't had to climb the tower a second time.
This past week, I've received a push of a different kind. While I've always had good editors, each one brings something different when she goes through my manuscripts. And the one I have for Fairest Inn All is making me stretch.
That may sound horrible to you, but it's a good thing to me. I think the last few years, even while growing in my writing, I've also become complacent. I don't add as many details as I should, even though I can see those details in my head. This time, I'm having to go back and make sure the readers can see what I see too. And it's making my story so much stronger.
Are these two scenarios the same? Only in that I needed a push both times. Thank goodness God put people in my life who could give me the shove I needed.
Have you ever considered a push a good thing? Ever needed someone to get you out of being complacent?

Temperatures in Tennessee have dropped this week. It's glorious! But it also means it's finally the end of gardening for this year. 
All I've been picking the last few weeks has been tomatoes and okra. And a few peppers. The green beans, squash, cucumbers, and other veggies had already given up over a month ago.
But, as I glanced at the greenery popping up amid my composting, I had to laugh.

You see, I take all my peelings, pieces of fruit or veggies that aren't good, eggs shells, coffee grounds, etc, and I dump them back into the garden. It doesn't make it look great. And sometimes it stinks, but all those nutrients are going to go back into the dirt and be there for whatever we plant next year. So, why not?
This summer, I've put up a lot of tomatoes. We make salsa and spaghetti sauce along with eating them. All all the seeds that slip out while I'm peeling them go into the compost bucket and then back into the garden. Where they do what you see above.
That's right. I have tons of baby tomato plants right now. In October. Just as it's about to get cold.
It's almost sad, seeing those plants coming up and knowing nothing will actually come of them. If you look below, you'll see I have what looks like another green bean plant and maybe a cucumber coming up right now too.
Plants are so resilient. They dig their roots down deep and can grow in places that it looks like nothing can. All they need is sun and water and the right temperatures. And I love that I can see so many lessons from them. Is it any wonder Jesus used plants and farming so often in his lessons? Not only where the people listening used to that, but it's easy to see the applications.
These plants coming up in my garden weren't planted (on purpose). They weren't supposed to be there. They came from the unwanted/unusable parts in my kitchen. But you know what?
Just because we think something is only good for throwing out, it doesn't mean something good can't still come of it? When I'm thinking some of my writing is just plain awful, it doesn't mean it can't be shaped into something better? When we're feeling like we're worth nothing and can't do anything right, it doesn't mean it's true. Maybe we just need some dirt and sun and water. ;)
I won't get any veggies from these volunteer plants. But that doesn't mean I can't get anything from them. What about you? Is there something you feel isn't worth anything? Look at it again. You might be surprised!

For the last few years, my family has participated in a program called Lads to Leaders. It encourages children to hone their skills needed as they grow so they can be leaders in the church in the future. We have insisted our son participate in Song Leading the last few years because up until now, he hasn't had to do anything but get up and start the song. Well, he's in third grade this year, and that means the requirements are a little more. He needs to add in the hand motions too.

In a few weeks, we're having a youth-led service, where different young men are going to be doing the song leading, scripture reading, and prayers. They needed one more boy to lead a song so we asked my son if he would do it.
He said, "Yeah. How am I ever going to get over being nervous if I don't practice?"
He's nine, you guys. Every year, he impresses me with what he's willing to stretch himself to learn and do. And what comes naturally. Up to now, this has not come naturally to him. He doesn't act shy ... until he's in front of a crowd. But he's willing to work toward overcoming that.
The last week or so, we've been helping him figure out hand motions for the song he wants to lead. This last Sunday, I looked over and noticed him mimicking the song leader's motions. And his daddy helping him make sure he was on beat. Definitely made my heart swell to see him practicing in the pews. 
Do you tend to catch yourself using the excuse of "it's not natural to me" to get out of doing something you're not comfortable with? Or are you willing stretch and grow? It can be as simple as sitting in the pew, copying someone else until we're comfortable enough to do it up front. Or even simpler than that. What's one way you have overcome a fear?

Saturday was set to be a busy one. My husband was gone all day at a Quiz Bowl tournament for school. My son had a soccer game at 10:30. My daughter and I were attending a ladies' tea at 2, with the son off to stay with a friend. Everything was scheduled and set, ready to go.
​Only one problem.

When my son took his laundry out to the garage, he came running back quickly. "Mom! The garage is flooding!"
Not what anyone wants to hear ... ever. But especially not on an already overscheduled busy day when you're the only adult at home. I rushed out to see and he wasn't wrong. A huge puddle spanned the space in front of my washer and dryer. My first thought was the washing machine had somehow decided to kill itself after all these years--not that we'd used it in a few days.
On closer inspection, though, the water wasn't coming from the washing machine. It dripped steadily down the side of the hot water tank. The hot water tank that we'd been praying would survive until next spring when we could save up the money to replace it. The 21-year-old hot water tank.
Our plans tend to not always happen when we want them to. I called a couple places until I found a plumber who could meet me after the soccer game. Yep. We needed a new hot water tank. And several other new pieces and parts too. Of course.
I could've wallowed in self-pity. Could've cried, maybe. But it wouldn't have done me any good.
Instead, I let my friend know I wouldn't be dropping my friend off at her house. Called another to come pick up my daughter to take to the tea. And I settled in for an afternoon at home.
Half an hour after the tea party was set to start, my friend showed up at my front door, told me to get dressed for the tea party, and chased me out. She stayed with my son and the plumber and made sure I still got at least part of the afternoon I'd been looking forward to.
Another sweet sister in Christ at the tea party handed me a check before she left, wanting to help with part of it.
I've said it before and I'll say it again. I don't know how people live without a church family. Y'all. Things could've been so much worse.
For one, my hot water tank didn't explode. And we caught it before any really big damage happened.
For two, I might not have been able to find a plumber so fast, but I did. And he had what he needed to fix things. Even discovered things weren't quite as bad as he'd worried--the pressure was great. 
For three, I have such an awesome support system through friends and church family. I'm never in this life alone even when it feels like it sometimes.
So, am I thrilled to have a new hot water tank? I'm not unhappy to have more reliable hot water, though I could've wished for different timing. But am I happy to be reminded of the blessings surrounding me each and every day? It's always good to remember the blessings.
So, despite the puddles, there were a lot of positives too.
​What's something you've had happen where you discovered almost as many positives as puddles?

​When I thought about what to write for Amy’s blog, I realized that I have sabotaged my husband’s romantic notions in recent years. I didn’t do this intentionally, but I had to laugh when deciding on a romantic event.
We adopted a stray cat a few years ago. My son had rescued the kitten, and he needed to find a home for the lost waif. My husband and I took the cat, and she is now a spoiled feline that runs the household. Ginger finds flowers a challenge. She will jump on counters to get to them and usually topples the vase. She enjoys eating flowers and leaves, which means the carpet needs a cleaning when Ginger gets sick to her stomach. Flowers usually end up in the bathroom where we can close the door and keep them safe. The flowers make for a festive toilet experience, but the ambience doesn’t scream romance.

​Then there’s the chocolate conundrum. I admit to being a chocolate snob. I have my favorite chocolatiers. None of the samplers from the drug store will do. We had See’s and Godiva stores in a nearby mall until Covid closed them down. What’s a husband to do who shops at the last minute? Another favorite item was crossed off of the romance list.
Since I wear the same jewelry over and over, and rarely change my rotation, I’m not a fan of jewelry either. My husband is limited in his romantic endeavors.
But I realized that one of the most romantic overtures that my husband planned was an Alaskan cruise for our twentieth anniversary. I loved seeing glaciers and glimpsing eagles flying overhead. I didn’t have to cook for hungry boys. I could venture off on excursions and a waiter had an iced tea waiting for me at every dinner. This was relaxation and romance at its best. We did bring our boys along, but they stayed in their own suite with my mom who kept them entertained.
On this cruise, we visited the Taku Glacier Lodge. A WWI veteran and his caregiver lived in the lodge after the war, and they raised Huskies. The couple was stranded for six months out of the year when the Taku River froze. I sat there thinking a man and a woman alone in a lodge. The story thread became my novel ‘Until June” which highlights the struggles of wounded veterans in a time when medical practices caused addiction and depression. PTSD wasn’t a diagnosis back in the day. The veterans were referred to as shell shocked.
I would never have written “Until June” if my husband hadn’t booked a cruise for our milestone anniversary. The trip is a highlight when I look back on my life.
I may not receive flowers, jewelry, or candy very often anymore, but it’s the memories experienced by my husband and I that stand out in my mind. A good friend once told me to never be too busy to make memories. She was right. Spending time together can be romantic whether it’s in Alaska or walking through a quiet neighborhood.
Do you have any memory-makers planned for this summer?

​When seventeen-year-old seamstress, Josephine Nimetz, agrees to take care of a WWI amputee in a remote Alaskan lodge, there's enough friction to melt the Mendenhall Glacier. Her position is only until June, and it pays well enough to overlook the hardship of managing a rustic home and a shell-shocked veteran.

Geoff Chambers makes it clear that he isn't too fond of the runt sent to take care of his needs, nor of her painful mistakes. Dealing with a depressed and addicted veteran, pushes Josephine to the brink of leaving, if not for the money her salary brings.

But Josephine is a perfectionist, determined to get Geoff back on his feet—figuratively...Although, sending a rich, handsome veteran back into society may cost Josephine the man she has grown to love.
Amazon Link for “Until June” but the book is sold at other bookstores.

Barbara M. Britton is a multi-published author of Christian Fiction. Her Tribes of Israel series brings little-known Bible characters to light. You can also travel to Whispering Creek, Tennessee with her sweet romance duology. Barbara has a nutrition degree from Baylor University but loves to dip healthy strawberries in chocolate. You can find out more about Barbara and her books on her website barbarambritton.com.


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