Matt Harrison on Joy

This is not a lecture. He does not harangue. If you are full of joy, or missing your joy, this podcast will bless you today.

To listen click here

Marcus's Two Baptisms

(I wrote this one 2 kids ago... in 2007.. and I see not much has changed regarding my weakness and God's faithfulness!)

and then there were four.

Marcus's Two Baptisms

            It was a joyous day, and a cheerful morning for me, as I began to get the children ready to go to Marcus’s baptism.  I couldn’t wait to get him in his little white suit and tie, so I got him ready first, before the other children got up.  I had my cup of coffee in peace, and now I had my perfect little newborn dressed and ready to go.  I even had time to take some pictures!  I was feeling pretty good about my ability to manage four children.  Sure, it’s busy, but I am an organized, fun, flexible mommy, full of patience and coffee.  (I find it impossible to have one without the other.)   I had heard from other mothers that the fourth child can “make or break” a woman.  Well, it was obviously making me! I had everything under control.  I put tiny Marcus in his carseat, and he peacefully slept through the morning chaos.

Her song.

She is intent on finding her place in the hymnal, and putting the ribbons where they need to go.  Then, we sing.  The church sings loudly, so I cannot hear her voice.  But I hold her close, and I feel the song vibrating through her. 

Aggie sings. "Great is Thy Faithfulness."

It seems like her voice starts in her heart and reverberates through her entire body.

I imagine her voice, her faith, sounding from her heart and filling mine.

She reminds me, "All I have needed, Thy hand has provided."

Great is Thy Faithfulness, Lord, Unto Me.

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See also: How's Aggie?

Weak and Loved: A Mother-Daughter Love Story by Emily Cook

 Now available on Amazon.com $9.99 kindle $4.99

Barnes and Noble epub  $4.99

Depression: Mental fatigue

One day, my long, crazy list is manageable.  I can prioritize, account for the needs of the children, and prepare myself for inevitable interruptions. I look at my list with my coffee in the morning, plot out my day, and tackle it with energy.

Another day, the very same list looks completely different to me. My coffee and I stare at it, and it seems utterly impossible.

Calling the bank- too much talking, and how in the world can I do that with these kids in my kitchen?
I can't handle paying bills. Too much thinking; they'll interrupt, and I'll yell.
An email. A text message. A child with a need. Each thing hits me almost like an assault, another thing I must try to respond to when I have no energy to respond to anything.

I bring the basket of laundry up the stairs, and I wish I could take a nap. Right here on the living room floor, even.

If you have never had this kind of depression, think about what it feels like when you are really sick.
Your body simply insists that you lay down. You move from the bed to the couch, and it feels like you've just run a marathon.  You could no more talk yourself into hopping on the treadmill than you could talk yourself into sprouting wings.

Sometimes my body also insists that I lie down when this kind of depression hits. Other times, my body feels ok, but my mind just simply cannot handle responding to anything. My mind feels like my body does when it is sick.  Fatigued. Exhausted. Foggy.

Answering an email makes me feel like I have run a mental marathon.

I'd like to go somewhere and hide.

On these days I pray..

Jesus, be my strength until I can crash,

and then, 

Grace, be my pillow.

Lenten blessings

Lenten blessings from Pastor Harrison:



Other things I'm reading today, and thinking about...

Death and Life
On Fasting 
Inflex Ego

Another GREAT one: Lent Ain't about YOU!

See also

My thoughts, last year, on this strange day called "Ash Wednesday." It is still hard on this mother's heart.

Father, 

Teach us to repent, to hate sin, 

and to remember that we are dust. 

Teach us to pray, to trust, 

and to remember that You are our Life and Salvation. 

In Jesus' name, Amen.

What's so great about big kids?

OK, I admit it. I'm dragging my feet, looking back at those baby days.  I already KNOW what's great about babies, and the great things are pretty great.

But my first baby turned nine yesterday.  And it turns out, nine is pretty cool too, in its own way.

Her personality is shining.  She is becoming her own person. I am learning to celebrate that. For example:

That's a candle in a brat. At her request.

Note to self: 

next time you sing happy birthday over hot meat products, 

don't put the candle right IN the meat 

(it melts, of course!)

So I'm opening my eyes this week, and trying to see those things that are so great about big kids. Will you help me make my list? 

(I'm thinking early elementary here. I'll go back one of these days and delight in the forgotten but wonderful middle toddler and preschool children.)

What's so great about big kids?

• They can play volleyball with me!
• They can help with the little kids.
• They understand sarcasm!
• They can read great books.
• They get excited about new shoes that I would have bought them anyway. 

That's all I have time for this morning, but I am going to try to keep thinking on this throughout the week. Think with me, will you?  Tell me something you love about big kids!

God, help me spend less time pining after the gifts of the past.  Open my heart and my eyes and show me the gifts you have for me in THIS season. In Jesus, Amen.

an unexpected chance to fly

During the year of seizures, everything was stressful. Staying home was stressful. Going to church was stressful. Going to social engagements was EXTREMELY stressful.

I was always watching for seizures, all the while smiling and forcing myself to allow her to be a kid. I tried to stay constantly ready to catch her, hating the constant threats around her, but all the while encouraging her to make use of those sweet moments when she felt good to run and play and enjoy life.

Oh yeah, and trying to not lose track of any of the other kids the meantime.

Church functions, family get-togethers, parties... I had begun to dread all of these things.  There were too many people, too much uncontrolled activity, too many hazards. It was so exhausting.

I remember one birthday party that was NOT that way, though.

The day was not about Aggie. It was not her birthday. Yet, she was given a perfect gift that day, and in that gift I was also given a chance to breathe and just enjoy her.

They rented a bouncy-house.

A bouncy house!  A net to keep her in, and a soft landing all around!  I could let her go, let her bounce and FLY to her heart's content!  What could a seizure do to her in there?!

I remember her Aggie smile and her hair flipping crazy in the air as she flew.

I remember the other kids playing with her, and her uncle, and nobody acted like she was the poor, sick little girl. She was just a girl, having fun with the others.

Yes, she had seizures that day, like every day that month. I cannot help but notice her sad eyes in this picture. Surely this one was post-seizure and she was tired again.

But I remember that day not for the seizures, but for those beautiful moments of bouncing and flying in safety.

Would that I could make the whole world a bouncy-house.

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Weak and Loved: A Mother-Daughter Love Story by Emily Cook 

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Birthday joy

From where I'm standing I see...

• My baby girl that magically grew 9
• Friends behind her, all around her
• Dizzy 'tweens who just rolled down a grassy hill in the dark
• Sparkling bright stars over the fields behind our house
• not much else, because it is really, really dark out here

I feel...

• out of breath from our game of zombie tag. (These girls run much faster than my short legged boys.)
• happy to breathe in this fresh-airy joy with these girls

From where I'm standing, I see...

• That smile, that just made all the party-planning worth it.

Insiders

Steeping in Sunday

Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. And he said to them, “Now draw some out and take it to the master of the feast.” So they took it. When the master of the feast tasted the water now become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew...)

Those servants, who had drawn the water, how blessed they were. They got to see behind the curtain. They saw with their eyes, and they knew where the wine had come from. They even got to have a hand in the miracle, in a way, simply by doing what they were told.

I like thinking about this, these insiders, that got to see Jesus's hand at work.

I think I understand a little what that must have felt like.  I see a miracle, little or big, and maybe others don't know what just happened, but I do. God worked. I just happened to be there, and maybe I had a little hand in it, in a manner of speaking, but I know the truth: it was all Him.

• the time I had a baby
• when I hear my daughter pray about every little thing
• witnessing a tiny burst of love from one of the kids to another
• my daughter playing a hymn on the piano, and the song lifting my spirits
• The other times I had a baby, and found myself amazed that God did this phenomenal thing, AGAIN.
• Faith, given and growing, in me or anyone else

Tell me, have you felt like this recently? What happened?

Father,
What amazing grace it is that I am called a child of God, a friend!  Thank you for letting me see Your wonderful works, for confiding in me through Your Word.  Amen.

John 15:15

No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you.

Is it just me, or is something not right here?

Would you please stop licking the train while it is running?!
Get that cookie cutter off of your FOOT!
No, you may not climb in the dishwasher!
That has raw egg on it! Don't brush your teeth with it!
I said stop licking the TRAIN!
I don't mind if you watch the laundry, but please DON'T spit in it!!!!!
You don't even like oatmeal..why would you eat your oatmeal BATH? Oh, whatever.

Sometimes, it just feels really good to know I am not alone.
If you are feeling alone and crazy today, please, read this:
The silent epidemic

We do not need to suffer in silence any longer.

dress rehearsal

They really are growing up.

Yesterday my oldest daughter discovered the box of fancy little-girl dresses that no longer fit her or her sister.

"Oh mommy! I remember wearing this dress!" she cried as she held the dress (size 2T) up to her almost 9-year-old self. "I wish I could wear this again today for our Valentine's Day dinner!"

"Well honey, I guess you should have thought of that before you grew up like you did." I joked.

"Mommy!" she rolled her eyes. "I can't help it you know!"

She can't help it, I know. I thought of this as I returned to my ironing. None of us can help it.  

My selfish desire to stay in little land with my babies is simply ignored. I pretend this is fine.

"Mommy, don't give this dress away, ok?" She knows me to well. "You have to save it- because when I grow up and move out of the house, I want to have it to put on my little girl someday."

I smile and promise.

I do a dress rehearsal, practicing letting-go in this little act. I pretend I can see it-- that day when she's out of the house-- and I pretend it will be easy to smile and pass on the frilly treasures for the next generation.

the above-mentioned dress.

seems like yesterday...

this actually was yesterday :)

"Now I can see that children are as light as air.  

They float past you, nudging against you like balloons as they ascend."

(S Fisher. read more here.)

my note to your guilty feelings

I love getting notes from people who have read my book. I can't tell you how much it encourages me to hear that Weak and Loved has inspired or encouraged somebody else. You'll probably think this is pathetic, but I am saving these notes to encourage me next time I wonder if I should bother writing.

But then, there's this kind of note:
"I had no idea what you were really going through... I'm so sorry. I should have helped you more."

It's a very kind note, but it makes me sad too. So please, bear with me while I address a few words to the guilty feelings that some of you may have out there.

It was too foggy to keep score.

That year was lived in a fog for me. Everything was Aggie, and trial, and surviving.

I do remember receiving special kindnesses and help from some people.  We were concentrating on simply surviving, and God sent some willing hands that helped to sustain our lives and our faith. Now, on the other side of the trial, I remember only that we were incredibly well cared-for by our church family and our friends and family across the country.  Cards, emails, meals, a bake sale fundraiser, gifts for Aggie, babysitting for the other kids, prayers, hugs, words of encouragement- all of these things helped to sustain us.

If you were not one of those people, you are not on my bad list.  The air was too foggy for me to even find a pen to use for keeping score.

Please, do not feel like you must apologize to me.


However...
Maybe you feel like you were an imperfect friend, and you were unaware or unwilling to step into our trial. Honestly, I was too caught up in my own pursuits to even realize that. I'm sure I have done the same thing to you, not only that year, but maybe even yesterday.

God's law stings, doesn't it? We do not love Him with our whole hearts. We do not love our neighbors as ourselves.

As I was talking about these things with my husband, he said,

 "I think your book helps illustrate some fundamental things about human nature- we are reluctant to receive help, and we are reluctant to give it.  

It is always true that we should be more loving. 

It is always true that we should allow ourselves to receive more love."

So maybe my story of being weak and loved has highlighted your own weaknesses and lack of love, just as going through the trial did for me.

Jesus is not surprised by our weaknesses. "He did not entrust Himself to any of them, because He knows what is in man." Sin. No shock to Him. And yet, though we are not trustworthy, though our "love" looks nothing like His for us, still He loved us to the point of death on the cross.

It is safe to say that out loud, friend. We are weak. Sinful.  And yet (grace and mercy!) we are loved by God in Jesus Christ.

Allelulia, Lord to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life! 



Father,
Soften our hearts with Your great love for us.  Free us from the constant pursuit of our own interests, cleanse us of our sins, and teach us to bear with one another in suffering. 


Help us live with open hands, and to show our needs to one another.  As we receive from other and from you, make our hands also willing to give, to pass on what we have to bless others.


 Forgive us, renew us, and lead us, so that we may delight in Your will and walk in Your ways, to the glory of Your holy name, Amen.

**weak and loved**

Weak and Loved: A Mother-Daughter Love Story 

by Emily Cook 

Now available on Amazon.com $9.99

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epub $4.99

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Now available to subscribers only: Good Questions for Valentines day and 60 Good questions

Popular song, recommended

Beautiful song.

Simple and beautiful prayer.


Give it a listen.

Jesus, Savior, help me to stand by Allison Krauss

Good thoughts to carry with you on this day through which He carries you.

Good Questions for Valentines Day

Are you planning a Valentine's Dinner for your family? 

A word of advice: Don't set the standard too high! A fancy table and soft candlelight will create a lovely atmosphere in the dining room, but it will not magically transform the children .  Expect burping and spilling and whining at this meal, just like every other one!  

But why not try to stimulate some fun conversation in between the burps?

Ask Good Questions!

If you could ask God to tell you who you are going to marry, (if you are going to marry,) would you want to know? What else might you want to know?

When you get big enough to have a boyfriend or a girlfriend, do you think you would invite him/her to our family Valentines dinner? What do you think they would think of us?

• Does mom love dad? How do you know?
• Does dad love mom? How do you know?
• Look at the brother or sister sitting to your left. Name something about that person that you think their future spouse will like.
• If Jesus would tell you who you are going to marry some day, would you want to know? What would you ask him about that person?
• If God would answer one request about your family in the future- what would you ask him?
• Do you hope your future spouse has lots of money?  Why or why not? Would you marry someone that was rich but unkind?
• Do you want your future spouse to be kind?  How will you know if he/she is?
• Would you marry someone that was kind but refused to do any work?  Would you marry someone that was kind but simply could not do work?
• If God doesn’t send you a spouse, what else might you do when you grow up?
• Would you marry someone who was kind and smart but always smelled like bacon? Or green beans?
• Would you marry someone who wants to have 20 children? Would you marry someone who hates children?
• What would you do if God sends you a spouse that works in another country?
• What do mom and dad do for fun? What do you think you will do for fun with your spouse?
• When you are old enough to have a house, what kind of house do you want?
• Do any of the kids in your class have girlfriends or boyfriends? What do you think about this?
• Has anyone ever told you that you are pretty or handsome? Do you like when people say this?
• Do you think your family will be like ours if you have children? How might it be different?
• Name a gift that mom has that makes her a good mom.
• Name a gift that day has that makes him a good father.
• Name a gift that dad has that makes him a good husband.
• Name a gift that mom has that makes her a good wife.
• What will you do when you meet someone and you are not sure if they are the one for you?

Did you make a Valentine's Day memory with your family?
I'd love to hear your story!

Coloring "love" for our children: A Valentines Day tradition

My dad always bought little valentines gifts for my sister and me. I guess he thought the holiday of love was a time to express his love to ALL the girls in his life, not just our mom.  So he'd buy us candy, or a little stuffed bear or something.  Sometimes he'd write a little poem or card too. I remember this one as one of my favorites: 

Roses are red, 

Violets are purple

Pancakes taste better

With hot maple syrple.

(original poem by my Awesome Dad.)

As I got older, gifts of daddy-love weren't cherished as much as goofy gifts from teenage boys... but he did succeed in adding the concept of real, solid, Father-love to the holiday of silly, sentimental, fluff-love.

So we're trying that in our house, too.

Let me tell you about our Valentines Day Dinner tradition.

Goat training

So they went and saw where [Jesus] was staying, and they spent that day with him.

John 1:39

My first thought when I read this verse was a thought of jealousy. "Wow, that sure would be nice to spend a whole day with Jesus."

How easy it is to forget His promise, to feel like He WAS here and now He's far away. How easy it is to wish one could see with physical eyes, even though this seeing did not allow even the disciples to see him clearly.

...to spend a day with Him.

I can only imagine my perspective would change dramatically.  To have Him by my side in my day of child-chasing, helping me see and do what I actually should be seeing and doing...

As He says He will be, in His Word. Oh, right. That.

In our Women's Bible Class, we are reading a book called The Calling.  In it, as the author encourages us to make God the center of our lives, he also gives practical suggestions, and a few I have never heard before.  While I don't think there is any "trick" that can help make this easy or instantly destroy the sinful part of me that resists this, I do find it is helpful to try new ideas that may help break old habits. Like this one:

Set a timer to go off every 60 minutes for 60 days. (I assume not including hours of sleep.) When the time beeps, say a quick prayer to refocus on God and what is truly important.

I've been trying this, sort of, for the past two days. It helps that I set timers all the time anyways, to keep track of whose turn it is to do what, and who has to sit in their room for how long.  When the timer beeps, I simply pray, "God, help me see what's important and equip me to do that next."

Wow.

What a lesson in being a goat.  I am definitely the type of person who barrels through my day, and no little bit of prayer in the early morning is going to keep me barreling in the right direction all day long.

I'll be writing more about this, but right now I am seeing that this half-clothed child climbing on my chair is telling me that he's what's next, and it's time to do what's next!

God, help me see what's important and equip me to do that next!

Source: theanimalprintshop.com via Jessica on Pinterest

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that moment when you should be mad but you grab the camera instead...

I'd been The Wall for Little Boys to Bash Their Heads Upon all day long.  

I was sore, and tired, and I had lost the ability to respond to "crisis." 

I was numb, and a little loopy (from all the head-bashing, I'm sure.)

It was not a scream, but a suspicious crinkle that tore me from my therapeutic blogging..

And behold, I saw this:

From where I'm standing, I see:

A Cheerio Disaster

with Saggy Pants

A boy who thinks he's very clever,

but knows he should be in trouble.

He's wondering why mom is giggling like that...

He doesn't care. He poses proudly.

Then, he slips.

From where I'm standing I see

a boy scared and a tiny bit humbled.

(by the fall, not the exposed bottom).

Whole Grain. 

Great for eating and decorating.

Great for skating, and falling.

Why not just make a Cheerio angel while you're down there, sonny?

From where I'm standing I see:

the price of blogging.

Before Church. After Church.

This seems about right :)

drawing by Allen Holle

Though sometimes we undergo this dramatic transformation on the short walk over to church!

on receiving grace and casseroles

                Sometimes I wonder if I actually listen to what I am saying.  I stand there, with you, and I confess that I am “by nature sinful and unclean,” and I pray “Lord, have mercy.”  I stand before God with only my sins to offer, and I can do nothing but receive His grace. I beg. He gives. Ho hum.

                Then I leave church with my children in tow, including one very naughty little boy, and somebody offers to help us home. “No thanks,” I smile, “we’re doing just fine.”  It seems like the right thing to say, even though I am practically limping from the bruise on my leg that he just gave me.  He frees his hand from mine, and runs away.  I wonder if people can hear my blood boiling, but I keep walking, and keep smiling.

                 I do not want to be a charity case.  I have my life under control, for the most part, really I do.  Yes, I need God, just like you do, but let’s not take it too far, now.  I’ll open my hands to receive the free gift of salvation, but a ride home? A casserole?  That’s just too much!

                Why do I think like this? Why do I squirm when help is offered? Why do I refuse to ask when help is needed?  

                I remember when seizures invaded, and everything was sickness and worry and the threat of death.  I remember when I was empty, and everyone was needy, and I could not help because I was needy, too.  I had no choice but to accept help:  help from God, and help from people. I racked up debt after debt of kindness that I can never repay.

                Then, I saw it clearly:  I am a charity case. 

                I am needy.

                Weak.

                At His mercy. 

Source: formamas.blogspot.com via Katie on Pinterest

                But He always has mercy on me. He strengthens me through His Word and Sacraments, and sometimes (grace upon grace!) He helps me in very practical ways through His flesh and blood children. 

                Jesus is God in the flesh, and He shed his blood for me, for my salvation.  Every other gift I receive is another drop of His love from this fountain.  It is not necessary to keep track of the casserole debts.  It is only necessary to be His child.  As His child, I am learning to keep my hands open, to look for and receive His gifts of all kinds.

                And sometimes, I get to be the one that gives the casserole.

Heavenly Father,

You have promised never to leave us or forsake us.  Thank you God, for keeping that promise to us.  Thank you for Your life-giving Word and sacrament. Thank you for the church, Your Body, that is Your hand to embrace those who are suffering.  

When we are in need, help us to make our needs known to each other.  

Keep us from proud self-reliance, from living with closed hands and refusing to receive your practical gifts.  Thank you for being a God who pours out love on all of us charity cases.  Fill us to overflowing, that we may in turn share grace upon grace with our fellow Christians in need.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen

Come here, kiddo.

This was the collect last Sunday:

Almighty God, 

You know we live in the midst of so many dangers, that in our frailty we cannot stand upright.

Grant strength and protection to support us in all dangers and carry us through all temptations;

through Jesus Christ, Your Son, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

I love when the liturgy speaks directly to those things I am pretending are not really in my heart. It's like God gently asking me, "Who do you think you are kidding, daughter?"

Last weekend, when I heard this, I was once again feeling that heightened sense of danger and fragility.  We had just returned from vacation, and Aggie had those awful dark circles under her eyes.  I HATE those dark circles.

I was worried about her, and trying to tell myself I wasn't worried; I shouldn't worry; there's really no reason to worry.  


But I can't really believe that. 
She's frail. I'm frail. I remember.


Now, the dark circles have gone away again.  She really was just tired.  And I find myself so happy to run back into that place of forgetting and pretending the things around me are solid.


I'm such a kid.


But I guess that is OK, as I remember that Jesus invites the little children to come to Him.

As Aggie herself reminded me this week:

"Jesus loves the little children" by Aggie

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My ridiculous job

My son looked at me with puffy eyes, hiccuping his words between sobs... "Will it have to go in the trash?  I don't want it to go in the trash!"
He could hardly stop his crying to get the words out.

Over what?

A broken whopee cushion.
Yes, seriously.


You can imagine the ranting that was going on inside my head over this emotional display about a two dollar toy that farts.

I am sure I said a few unhelpful things.

In fact, I was seething.
This kid was being RIDICULOUS.  And it was highly inconvenient, I might add, considering all this laundry that needs folding.

I told him to sit and get himself together while I worked on the laundry.  He stared at the toy on the ground, took a few deep jagged breaths, and then collapsed into a flood of sadness all over again.

I tried to block it out. He sobbed.
I folded. He hiccuped.
I matched some socks. He sniffed.

I took a deep breath. I looked at the hymns I have posted by the dryer.
(I post them there to have something to fill my head with other than complaints while I deal with inside-outs and sock trauma. Sometimes it helps.)

While life's dark maze I tread, 
while griefs around me spread, 
be Thou my guide...

Griefs around me. I paused.

Seriously, a broken whopee cushion can't count as grief, can it God?  
Doesn't he know that there are so many more horrible things in this world to be crying over!?


...no, actually he doesn't.
He was having fun, and the fun broke.  In his world, that is horribly sad. 


[inner eye-roll.]


OK fine, God, if I am supposed to care about this stupid whopee cushion, what do you want me to do about it?


You don't have to care about that. 
Care about him.


I took another deep breath. I walked away from the unfolded clothes and I asked him to come give me a hug. (Hugs are great for those times I'm not sure I can stop the eye-rolling.)

I hugged him, and he seemed relieved. We talked about how sad it is that stuff breaks, that none of the things we have last forever. (OK, I remember.  He's right, that is sad.)

We talked about how much better it will be in heaven when we have eternal life and there will be no more tears and no more broken stuff.

"But mommy, it's gonna be a long, long time until Jesus comes."

"We don't know that, honey. But we can look forward to it together."

For the rest of the day I was laughing at myself.
I just sat with a child in his whopee-cushion grief and pointed him to Jesus.
This job is ridiculous.



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FREE DOWNLOAD: 60 Good questions!

What if your mom and dad got stuck in a machine 

that shrunk them to the size of grapes? 

Would you protect them from being stepped on or eaten by big bugs?

Would you still obey their rules?  

My kids insisted that of course, of course, they would protect us and take good care of us.  And yes, they would all gladly take over the chores that could not be done by grape-sized adults.  And yes, they would still obey every rule... why wouldn't they?

Then, they got thinking about what it would be for a tiny parent to threaten them.  Would one even notice a spanking from a grape?

Source: happy-red-fish.com via Happy on Pinterest

They got laughing SO hard about this that I was unable to distract them from the topic with anything other than a NEW Good Question.

I want to share this fun with you!

Sign up now for 60 Good Questions!

Good questions are great for

• road trips
• long waits at the doctor's office
• meal times
• any time you want to keep their minds busy so they will stop whacking each other
• stimulating conversation that does not revolve around potty humor
• adults who want to imaginatively relive childhood

Details


The Good Questions file is a PDF that contains 60 Good Questions
(those submitted in the contest along with some I have written.)
Good for kids age 5 up to adult (provided the adult is not stodgy.)

The document is ready-to-print on regular 8 1/2 by 11 paper (or card stock) and cut into cards. There are nine questions per page.


Good Questions: Get them here


Did these questions help you make a memory with your family? I'd love to hear your story!