Christmas in Branson

I was going to post the long and rambling version of our Christmas trip to Branson, but after I passed the 1,000-word mark, I knew I should keep that version for my eyes only, although, it is pretty interesting. HA-HA! We had a couple of bumps in the road, going and during, shall we say, but it all made for some good memories to recall later. Wasn't so "good" at the time, but will be fun to remember in the years to come.

Suffice it to say, we had a great time in Branson, despite the bumps in the road. And to wake up Christmas morning to a blanket of snow, well... it doesn't get any better than that.

Here are some pics from the trip. I didn't take very many pictures on this trip (due to one of the bumps in the road), but I took enough to tell the tale. We stayed at a house called Deer Pass Lodge, overlooking Table Rock Lake. Magnificent views. Lots of space.

Click on the images if you prefer a larger view.

Cloud Nine, waiting on passengers to board. (Yes, we left in the dark of night the day before our intended arrival, but that's part of the long and rambling version.)

Before departure, I took a pic of the crew. Matilda appeared suddenly, on the left.

On our first night in Branson, five of us went to Dixie Stampede. The others decided to stay put, too tired from the trip. We arrived for the 5:30 performance, only to discover it was sold out, so we signed up for the later showing and headed to Starbucks for warm drinks in the meantime.

Back at Dixie Stampede, the newlyweds and the old-marrieds posed out front.

Hubby and I have been to Dixie Stampede several times, but never to the Christmas show. It was absolutely awesome, and the food was delicious. I still wished for utensils, but thank the Lord for wetnaps.

Back at the house ...

One of the breakfast chefs.

Chief Inspector.

Gamers of all ages.

Pardon my sporty look, but I love this picture of my dad. Doesn't he look great? He's 82 and has more energy and strength than I do, as does my wonderful mother. We are so blessed.

Christmas Eve brought Christmas carols and snow flurries.

Christmas morning dawned cold and white and perfect.

Good morning, my peeps!

The day after Christmas, we had an early birthday celebration for Leslie Loran, who turns 24 on December 30th. Her mom baked her favorite cake and the rest of us enjoyed it immensely.

In the afternoon, the newlyweds were the only ones brave enough to go to Silver Dollar City in 21-degree weather. Aren't they adorable here?

Later in the evening, the old folks (and two young ones) drove through the trail of lights. Below, you'll see a couple of very "cool" Texans, Santa's arrival, and some hefty icicles.

The following family pics were taken on Christmas Day.

And that's the short version of our family Christmas in Branson, 2009. Hope yours was as merry as ours.

Christmas In Texas

Celebrating Christmas with hubby's family is always a treat. Due to illness, not everybody could be there this time, but we had plenty of food and a lot of laughs, as usual. I had the most fun trying to catch my adorable great-nephew, Jackson. As you'll see, it was a slippery slope the whole evening.

On Making and Being A True Friend

 I clearly recall the first time I was betrayed by a friend. No more than 16, I had shared a personal confidence with a girl I enjoyed hanging out with and, in my utter naive state, expected the conversation to stay between us. It wasn’t anything earth-shattering, or life-changing, but it was something I didn’t want anyone else to know… it had to do with which young man was chasing after me and whether I intended to let him catch me or not. You know. Very private and important stuff.

The next morning was Sunday, and imagine my surprise when I heard my dilemma being repeated in, of all places, the ladies’ restroom. That’s right. My “friend” wasted no time in peddling the deepest hopes and fears of my vulnerable heart.

And I wasted no time in learning a major lesson in life. From that day forward, I was still friends with this girl, but I never shared another personal thing with her. She had proven she couldn’t be trusted with the big things in my little world.

Today, outside of family, I can count on one hand (with fingers left over), how many people I’ve ever shared anything of a personal nature with. These few people I trust explicitly, and they me. I have kept their confidences, and they’ve kept mine. There’s not a single doubt in my mind about that. And they know who they are, if they’re reading this.

The way I see it, people talk too much. And friendships are way too shallow. You may have 789 friends on Facebook, and 943 followers on Twitter, but how many really know you? How many would you share your vulnerable heart with?

If you have friends—friends who've been tested with your heart’s anguish and ecstasy, and proven themselves worthy of safekeeping—then you have true friends. Be the same to them, and do everything in your power to never let them go. There will be seasons of conflict and separation, perhaps, but stay true to what they’ve entrusted in your care until the dust settles.

Remember this: There are very few forever friends in life … and they’re worth more than gold.

A Toddler, A Nativity, A Christmas Story

The other night, I was looking through this beautiful coffee-table Christmas book and decided to share the story behind how I came to have it. (You can click on the pics for a closer look.) Some of you may have heard this story before (feel free to tune me out), but I think it's worth telling again.

One of the highlights of my writing career occurred when Dr. James Dobson's "people" contacted me and said that he had chosen a story from my first book to appear in his Christmas anthology. A Family Christmas was published in 2002 and is illustrated by the magnificent Texas artist, G. Harvey.

Upon hearing the news, I wept. Seriously, I did. This book contains stories from only seven authors, and for a nobody like me to be included was unbelievably exciting, and humbling beyond words.

But as much as I respect Dr. Dobson, having my work chosen for his Christmas book wasn't really the best part. The best part was that the story he chose, "Holy Awakenings at Christmas," happens to be my all-time favorite story about my precious daughter, when she was not yet three years old. It's a story about a very old cardboard nativity, and a toddler who would not leave it alone.

Here I am with my sweet Anna Marie in 1988—the year the events in "Holy Awakenings" took place.

And here is the fragile cardboard nativity that the story centers around; a nativity that has been in our family for almost 70 years. It's a bit tattered, but I never tire of it.

Every year at Christmas, I bring out Dr. Dobson’s book, thumb through its pages again … 

… and thank God for His undeserved favor in so many areas of my life—and for giving me such a dear daughter.

Even though she’s grown now, her insights as a child sometimes left me breathless. I tell her often that the little girl with the heart of gold, who loved the Lord with all her pea-picking heart (as we used to say), is still inside of her, and I know God has a bright future ahead, if only she will seek Him first and give Him her hopes and dreams.

If you'd like to read the story that appears in A Family Christmas, you can jump over to one of my other blogs and click on the last image.

Until next time, sweet peeps, go make a Christmas memory.

Musical Instruments - Now there's a thought for Christmas

I'm really getting into the groove of this lazy blogger phase. Maybe I should change my username from MsWrite2 to LazyBlogger4Now. Thanks for bearing with me as I reach again into the archives for this post. It's relevant to the season, so please hold your stones.  I understand that the article is difficult to read in the following format, and I really don't blame you if you don't. The gist of it is this:

If you're still scratching your head over what to buy that special son or daughter (or grand) for Christmas, have you ever considered a musical instrument? I can hear the moms now. "No drums, please!" But, believe it or not, drums are my second-favorite instrument. Seriously. A great drummer/percussionist lights my fire. (A bad one puts it out quickly.) The point is, unless you give your child a chance at playing an instrument, how will you know if they can or can't?

I was blessed to be born into a musical family that has deep roots. My dad can be seen here (right) with his brother (left) and a friend getting ready to make a little music. But there are no telling how many dynamite musicians are out there who have no apparent musical roots. (I could name a dozen or so myself.) Somewhere along the way, they were given the opportunity to try playing an instrument and, lo and behold, they discovered they had a real talent for it.

Buying your child a musical instrument brings with it some risk, but it could be the beginning of something wonderful. I know it has certainly changed my life.