That's right! I'm very superior!

I found a test for a 1930's housewife. I thought it'd be a kick to give it a whirl. I fully expected to get a twenty, or something similarly embarrassing. Drumroll please.... I was told I'm very superior. My hubby may beg to differ sometimes, but the test said 95. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. If you would like to see what kind of 1930's housewife you are, scroll all the way down and you will see the button at the bottom. Give it a whirl. Some of the questions are hilarious. Your man can take it too. They have a test for husbands {not really sure how many will try it, but they have it}. I'd love to know what you were {if you are brave enough to say}, so leave my a comment after you try it. Happy testing!

When the going gets tough, the tough gain strength

In today's society, it is all about a woman being strong. Having strong, toned bodies, strong minds challenged in their high profile careers, strong parenting skills, strong interpersonal skills, strong goals, strong opinions, strong will. We all know women who fit the bill. We may even look up to them, wishing we were stronger. My sister (and brother~in~law...but this is about women)has had a week that would try even the strongest of people. One where people she loves and cares for have shown a side that is vendictive and ugly. One where everyday brings a new sadness, a new challenge, a new heartache. But, my sister isn't strong. Don't get me wrong, she isn't a wimp. She isn't one to backdown from truth or hide from a tough situation. But she isn't a strong woman. She is a woman of strength. Don't see the difference? The poem below explains what I see in my sister. It explains, more eloquently than I ever could, what a woman of strength is. What my sister is.


A strong woman works out every day to keep her body in shape…
but a woman of strength kneels in prayer to keep her soul in shape…

A strong woman isn’t afraid of anything…
but a woman of strength shows courage in the midst of her fear…

A strong woman won’t let anyone get the best of her…
but a woman of strength gives the best of her to everyone…

A strong woman makes mistakes and avoids the same in the future…
but a woman of strength realizes life’s mistakes can also be God’s blessings and capitalizes on them…

A strong woman walks sure footedly…
but a woman of strength knows God will catch her when she falls…

A strong woman wears the look of confidence on her face…
but a woman of strength wears grace…

A strong woman has faith that she is strong enough for the journey…
but a woman of strength has faith that it is in the journey that she will become strong

Copyright © 2005 Dee Cheeks

Dear Sis, I pray God will give you continued strength as He works to reveal His will for you. Thank you for being an example of Godly strength in even the worst of situations. I love you!

The wimp

One...two...three...oh my word! How long does it take to count to ten? I was exhausted. I had spent the last several months checking into the hospital on Friday and praying I'd get to go home by Monday. My arm had been squeezed numb~thanks to the blood pressure cuff constantly wrapped around it, my veins were beginning to collapse under the never ending blood draws, my belly had the pattern of the monitor straps permanently etched into it. I had met every nurse, from every shift. Seen every on-call doctor. Been in every room on the floor. And eaten every low sodium, low taste meal the kitchen offered. The days I was able to be in my own home were spent on my left side and measuring, collecting, and refrigerating my urine. I was exhausted. The physical toll was enough on it's own, but the emotional toll was even greater. Prayer after prayer for my sweet child to be healthy, to stay in and "cook" long enough, for my delivery, to not have a seizure, or stroke, or worse. Oh the thoughts you have when all you can do is lay and wait. Now, on my third day of forcing my body to begin the labor and delivery process, I was spent. I was crying, pumped full of anti-everything medicine, feeling like my body was on fire, wondering if this was really happening. Was I really going to meet this precious gift? Would I finally see what she looked like? There was a whole team of nurses and a doctor for her, a whole team of nurses and a doctor for me. I was ready...to get this part over with. And my mom was taking 5 minutes to count to ten! Didn't these people know I am not a strong woman? That I don't handle pain well? That I am a wimp? I can't do this, I really can't do this..."I can't do this"! The words escaped my brain and came out my lips. The entire room, in unbelievable unison, responded "YES YOU CAN". And 14 minutes later, I did.

That is one of my favorite memories from my daughter's birth. To this day, it brings a huge smile to my face to think of the whole room simultaneously spurring me on...YES YOU CAN! Lately, I have been in a trying time. A time when I am exhausted. Both physically and emotionally. The imprints of hurtful situations are still fresh, my soul has been squeezed again and again, and I lay crying. Praying and waiting for the good. Not sure what it will look like and knowing I will never be the same, I am ready to get this part over with. And then I hear it. Pouring out of the pages of His word, coming from the mouths of loved ones, and in the quietest of moments...I hear it. He is spurring me on. He is counting. He is responding..."YES WE CAN".

Who me?

I had surgery over a month ago. I've been couped up in the house with my foot propped up in the air for most of that time. Not able to do anything but go to the restroom and back to my chair. It has been pretty lonely. I have been so disheartened at the lack of visits or phone calls from my fellow church members. One elder and his wife came the day after I got home, one couple came to the house but didn't come in as I was asleep, and another called a few days ago. To be fair, the preacher's wife arranged nearly a week's worth of food so Rob didn't have to worry about cooking after working all day and then coming home to do all my duties too. (This was so greatly appreciated. It was wonderful to not worry about my sweet hubby "fending" for himself.) She even ran by to heat me up a pot pie so I wouldn't be tempted to do more than my doctor would allow. That was probably the best pot pie I've ever eaten, not because it was haute cuisine (it was one of those super cheapo ones) but because it was an act of service. It met a need for me. But, what about my need for companionship or assistance with my 6 year old or a human voice not coming out of a box in my entertainment cabinet? What about the church being a family? Are we only part of the family if we are there at every service or activity? Have I not been an active, vital member of this "family", have I not done enough to be worthy of others christian love and compassion? I know, people have lives and time gets away from us all, but really! That's it? Out of almost two hundred members...I get one elder and a microwaved pot pie?

Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?
Matthew 7:2

Oh bother! As I sat feeling crushed and self-righteous, this verse came creeping into my mind. And I couldn't shake it (trust me I tried). I wasn't ready to give up my self pity. I still wanted to be disappointed, juvenile and outraged. I didn't want to be a grown up, or mature, or compassionate. I didn't want to be CHRIST like. In verse 5 Matthew records for us a harsh truth. "You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother’s eye." How many times have I let life get in the way of seeing the sister diagnosed with MS, or the brother who has chronic illnesses, or the elderly couple who just feels "shut in"? That's me. I am a hypocrite. I am.


It would be so wonderful to be more important to my church family. To have people beating down my door to check on me, offer assistance, or just talk to me (who wouldn't love that?). I do not know the reasons, I can assume I am just "out of sight, out of mind". But, regardless of what others should be doing, I have an obligation myself. I don't have to be a hyprocrite. I can be the bright spot in someone elses day. I can check in on, or call, or drop a note, or make a batch of goodies. I can show God's love. I can let people know they are missed, loved and appreciated. I can meet those needs. I can be CHRIST like. I can be someones pot pie.

Brooklyn funnies

Every so often we give Brooklyn a little gift for random reasons. The other day, on one such occasion, her daddy gave her a Giselle doll from the movie Enchanted. She was thrilled. The doll has on a fancy white wedding dress and she left her inside when she went across the street to play. Every 15 minutes she came to talk with Giselle. This went on for 2 hours. Before bed she was watching the movie on her little DVD player, with Giselle safely tucked beside her "watching". As the movie started and Giselle came on the screen, Brooklyn leaned over (with a huge, sweet smile on her face) and said "Look. That's you! There you are".

After a day of swimming, Rob's hair was quite a fright. But, it looked a bit like Kevin Costner's. I said "Wow, your hair looks like, um..." And Brooklyn chimes in with "CHEWBACCA!"

Brooklyn singing The Crayon song in her high pitched, loud voice.
(The lyrics are...Blue is for royalty, which in him did dwell).
Brooklyn's version...blue is for loyalty, witchy digs a well.

Cardboard Testimonies

What is your testimony?

The gift that keeps on giving

My parents celebrated their 20th year as the minister of the Garden City church of Christ last Saturday. They were given a Hawaiian themed party, with bright colored decorations, yummy barbecue sandwiches and all the trimmings, a quartet sang for the entertainment and they received a memory book of photographs from the last 20 years with an acrylic statue commemorating the milestone. Then, another present was found and my parents began to open it. Inside was an itinerary, a tourist book of Hawaii and a treasure chest FULL of cash. They are going to Hawaii on a week long, all expense paid vacation! They were stunned speechless. They had tears, I had tears, the party goers had tears. The gift is amazing! What a wonderful thing to do for someone. My parents had no clue. They knew about the party, but never in a million years expected a dream vacation. While I think the gift is wonderful, I am more moved by the joy it gave the givers. My sister and I were enlisted to help find out various things for the different hosts and hostesses. While filling them in on the information, they would tell me of the meetings they had and how excited they were about the theme, the fun they had in planning the trip, the excitement they had when their original donation was impressively surpassed, how they really appreciated my dad's preaching, how they'd never had a preacher's wife as amazing as my mom, how they were so glad they had been there 20 years and how they hoped they knew how much they were loved, admired, and appreciated. This went on for a year. Their excitement and sheer joy grew to a fever pitch as the big day drew near. They worked tirelessly to make sure every detail was perfectly in place, all with smiles on their faces and a kid-at-Christmas anticipation of my parents opening the "big gift". I am so moved by their delight, their total unselfishness, their willingness to give of their time, money, and talents. Not many people, let alone congregations, would spend an entire year happily plotting, planning, and perfecting a gift for someone else (would you do that for your preacher?). What an example of love! Thank you, Garden City church of Christ, for the gift you gave not only my parents~but me!