Today, I’m Tired

Everything is hitting me today. Everything. I’m tired. I’m getting sick. And while I’m incredibly grateful to have all my stuff here (Well, almost all of it. We have a few things in the old garage which the landlord has generously offered through March), now I have to do something with it. And I’m tired. And I’m getting sick.

I am not getting sick!

There are about a dozen people I could call to help me unpack, and any one of them would be happy to help. But unpacking, much like packing, is something I prefer to do mostly alone. I did commission my mom to unpack the kitchen, though.

“Just put everything where it was two years ago.”

“Uh, where was everything two years ago?”

“Ummmm…..just put it wherever you want.”

I think you must have remembered, Mom. Because everything is making sense in there.

I promised pictures, so I went through the house today and snapped a few random moments.


Tiny Dancer and her cousin/next door neighbor enjoying the magazines as I unpacked them. Hey, Blue Eyes! I’m so happy to be your neighbor again!


We packed to swing music and we’re unpacking to our favorite Jesus Freaks (Thanks again for the heavy lifting today, guys! Aren’t you glad the sleeper sofa wasn’t mine!).


This is the last day of the kitchen floor that I wanted to replace two years ago. My bother and sister-in-law went to Lowes and picked up the best housewarming present ever: new flooring for the kitchen and bath (I’ll tell you what prompted the gift in the morning)!


I told you these were random.


Oh, and my parents bought paint! I think I need to make a dozen pizzas and have a painting party.


Instantly back at home.


And hoping to be here for a good long while.

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We Survived!

Well, from my standpoint, this was the easiest move yet. I basically stayed in one place and packed boxes and cleaned, though, so I hope my friends and family feel the same way. Everyone has been fantastic! I think a special thank you is owed to my parents and my fantastic neighbors (the only sad thing about leaving the cabin is not being next door to you guys anymore!!). I am absolutely positive that it’s the grace of God, and not anything I have earned, but I have the best friends and family in the entire world.

A couple heavy pieces of furniture will be moved by another crew, tomorrow, and then we’ll be completely done! Well, completely done with the old place. There will be things to do at the new place for awhile. And I promise pictures tomorrow….

Tonight, I’m going to bed.

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What is a “Kingdom Twindom”?

Kingdom Twindom came into existence while I was hogging my mother-in-law’s massage chair and watching an action flick with my husband and younger brother-in-law. I’d [somehow] gotten it in my head that I needed a blog, and I usually wait about five minutes between dream and action. “Kingdom Twindom!” I giggled. And they both responded with phrases that translate literally as “lame”. But I liked it, so I rolled my eyes and went with it.

And I wrote my very first post, ever . . . .


I’ve always loved to write. Growing up, I wanted to be L.M. Montgomery. More practically, I’ve been freelancing professionally for nearly six years. Inspired by a truly phenomenal Grammar and Composition teacher, I also wrote a Creative Writing textbook (which I tutor from to this day) shortly after high school graduation. Desiring to watch my passion bloom to profession, my dad encouraged me to blog as a business. We still go back and forth about that.

My theory on blogging for money:

I wouldn’t invite you into my living room and then present you with a sales pitch…well, unless you were coming to hear a sales pitch. But I’m pretty lousy at those multi-level things and I can’t imagine ever doing one again (to date: I’ve attempted to sell Shaklee, Avon and Arbonne). I would invite you into my office and then pitch to you whatever we sold/provided there. So, I had to decide from the get go: was my blog an extension of my living room or my office?

My blog is my living room, welcome:

I began blogging on a regular basis about two years ago. If I had decided to blog solely about, say, homeschooling, and I dedicated myself to blogging every project and lesson we do here, I might have a pretty successful niche blog by now. And I might be making some pretty good money. But I’m not only interested in homeschooling. I didn’t want to limit myself to homeschooling. I decided to blog about nothing. “It’s a blog about nothing!” And, therefore, I’m free to write about anything (and yes, everything) that comes into my scattered mind . . . . everything I’d gab on and on about over coffee (or tea, Tiff) in my living room. Of course, this narrows my readership to people who would actually enjoy hanging out in my living room. But it definitely makes me more comfortable being here.

So why the “ads”?:

I put my name on the Blogher waiting list, and then I completely forgot about it. I can’t even remember, now, what inspired me to take that leap in the first place. When I heard, from Blogher, that they’d been flipping through their list and found my blog, I felt I had a big decision to make. I suppose I thought, at first, that making money would make me a “professional”. Maybe I’d have to write differently. Maybe I’d have to take myself more seriously. Maybe I’d have to transform my living room into an office! Obviously, I eventually decided that none of those things were true. And, quite frankly, if I could put a scanner on my door that paid me every time someone entered my living room . . . . and that scanner didn’t affect our conversation or even require me to clean my house . . . . well, it’d be kinda stupid for me to refuse it. Right? So, install that little scanner, I did. Now, my ads allow me to give in a way that most people in my income bracket aren’t afforded. So, yea!.

What Kingdom Twindom is today:

Today, Kingdom Twindom is my lifeline to the world. It’s my chance to preach the gospel even when I’m unable to leave my front door. It’s connection. It’s friendship. It’s memories. And, luckily, it’s also a percentage of my paycheck (almost all of which is earned through my writing).

Four years after that very first post that was written for grandparents and aunts, the majority of the people who read here are strangers (though they don’t feel like strangers anymore). I’m not a big blogger who doesn’t have any friend slots open. I’m busy . . . . I have five children . . . . but I definitely want to connect with my “readers,” because that truly is the very basis of this blog’s existence.

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Funny or Gross?

Maybe it’s just my odd sense of humor, but I had to post this picture. An absolutely amazing group of ladies is cleaning my new (old, now new again) place at this very moment. They just sent me this picture with the caption:
REMEMBER THIS!?! I was thinking it was the same shower curtain you had [when you lived here almost two years ago]?? :)”

And, yep, it totally is.

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This is my story. This is my song.

Because yesterday’s post was about a real life person in my very small town, I’ve decided to delete it. Thank you to everyone who was so supportive. Also, I refuse to dishonor my husband by detailing negative aspects of our separation on this blog. That, however, does not make it safe to assume the best or the worst about his presence or provision. Any assumptions made are being made purely out of imagination, and I will no longer be manipulated into giving unnecessary details because some people choose to assume the worst.

Love, by the way, always assumes the very best. And if I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. And I do not want to be a cymbal!

I woke in the middle of the night, and I asked God to deliver me from anger. I don’t think it’s the last step, but I know it was an extremely important one. I’ve dealt with so much anger, lately. Anger at my husband, my children, even my God. I have a switch, and Satan has accessed it. I can be flipped from holy to horrendous in about three seconds, and I do not want to live like this!

On Sunday morning, life was good. By Sunday afternoon, I wanted to die. As I paced back in forth in the bathroom, recounting every wrong done to me and all of my reasons for rage, God grabbed me by the hand and whispered, “Never forget this feeling.”

There is a self-righteous high that comes over me when I succumb to that my-anger-is-completely-justified dip in the cesspool of rage. I plan my brutal (but necessary) tongue lashing knowing I can slice through thick skin when I aim to.

My heart races, boiling my blood.

My neck and shoulders stiffen and my head begins to pound. But this time, God spoke loudly enough to be heard over the heady sound of blood rushing by my ears. “This feeling? It’s not from Me.” And I responded with an, “Uhh, oh . . . . well, duh!”

The world loves to rile us over what we “deserve” and what we are legally “entitled” to have. Make no mistake, though, the heroes of faith knew that God was enough. We are in the world, but it’s our God who made it . . . . has access to every dollar, every resource, every good thing.

Several months ago, in a counseling session with a very wise older woman, I chattered on and on about what I needed from my husband, what I needed people to know about me, etc. Quite frankly, I was a mess . . . . until she spoke seven life-changing words. “Do you trust God to defend you?” And I realized two things right then and there: One, no, I absolutely did not trust God like I thought I did. And two, that I truly, from the depths of my soul, wanted to get there.

God, my strength, I am looking to you, because God is my defender.

This is my story. This is my song. Praising my Savior…all the day long.

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