For The Stingy Succulent-lover

 My oldest daughter, Jasmine, has fallen in love with succulents and the wonder of propegation. She has spent hours reading up on the tricks and methods of propegation for different types of succulents. I love to watch her experimenting and carefully babying her little plant babies. Today she is sharing her knowledge with us in a guest post!

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I love springtime;

I love green plants.

I am crazy over succulents

and I'm Miss Conservationist

who delights in

saving her precious pennies.

This is how I grow

my succulent

collection with little cost

and great fun.

The leafless stem above

is the remains

of a leggy succulent.

Propagation

works best when 

your plant has

become

leggy and unhealthy,

with leaves

spread far apart

as the plant

tries to get

the maximum amount

of light it can.

At this point,

You have two options.

#1. Allow your

plant to continue

growing in this manner

until all the leaves

wither and the succulent

dies. 

#2. Start propogating!

To do this, start by

removing the

leaves from the stem

of the succulent, leaving only

a small rosette at the top.

When removing

the leaves from the succulent,

start with the bottom leaves

and work your way up to the top.

Wiggle each leaf gently

until you

feel a little snap.

Be sure to get a clean

pull, leaving 

no part of the leaf

attached to the stem.

The leaf nearest you

shows a clean pull. 

The one further

 away is broken on the edge

and will

not grow a new plant.

Last, cut off 

the rosette at the top with a pair of

sharp scissors.

Lay the leaves and rosette

on a saucer or a shallow tray.

Keep the saucer with the leaves

on a windowsill

that gets lots of indirect sunlight 

until they callous over.

Notice the difference between

the two leaves above.

The one closest to you has

calloused over

and has a bit of a protective

"scab" on it.

This scab will keep the

leaf from

absorbing too

much water, thus

preventing it from

rotting.

This leaf is an example

of rotting.

It has turned a

yellowish brown

and is limp and 

waterlogged.

It will die soon. 

So no watering until

the leaves

have scabbed over, you hear?

At this point,

lay your leaves on top of a

container of dry soil. 

As you can see in the picture 

below, the tips of the leaves will

really not be touching the soil at all.

  

And now, remember

that rosette

you snipped off the stem?

When it forms a "scab", 

simply place the stem into the ground

and it will grow roots and 

continue to grow.

Water it as you would

water a full grown

succulent.

Now back to those leaves.

At this point, we

begin the W and W process -

watering and waiting.

This phase can be kinda tricky

because succulents don't 

need much moisture.

Water the leaves very rarely

before baby plants begin

to grow. I water mine

once a week  with a spray bottle.

When you see tiny roots and baby

plants beginning to grow,

give them a good soaking

whenever the soil is

TOTALLY

dry.

The key here is to not over-water.

Overwatering is one of the

most common

reasons that succulents die.

 If you give them too much

water and they start to rot, 

there's basically nothing

you can do for them.

However, if your plant

isn't getting enough water, 

you can easily take

care of that!

ALWAYS err on the side of

underwatering.

After many hours and days

and weeks

and possibly even

months of waiting, 

your baby plants will be

ready for planting.

The ones in the picture

above aren't quite ready yet. 

I like to wait

until the original mother

leaf that was pulled off the stem

withers and dies.

Then simply remove the mother

leaf from your baby succulent,

( being careful

not to remove the roots)

 Place

your succulent

in well draining

succulent/cactus soil,

and continue

to water once a week,

or whenever

The soil is TOTALLY Dry.

It takes anywhere from

6 months

to one year for succulents

to reach a

"normal" size.

Make sure your babies

get lots of sunlight,

a good soaking

only when the soil is

dry, and lots

of patience.

This particular

succulent has been growing

for about 3 1/2

months,

and it's still

itty bitty.

So don't worry if it

seems like

your plants just

aren't growing, it takes awhile.

Here's an example of a

"normal size"

succulent.

Note that, although

this method of

propagation works for

most succulents,

it doesn't

for others. I've tried

propagating

blue chalk sticks

using this method with

a zero success rate.

These plants require

a cutting for 

propagation, so the point is,

 don't be afraid to experiment.

Maybe you'll find that you need

to use a different

watering method or

less sunlight than I do. 

Figure out what

works for you.

Have fun.

And whatever you do,

DO NOT OVERWATER!

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Have you tried propegating succulents? We'd love to hear your tips!

Gathered Advice Part 3: A Guest Post - Growing Up With Our Kids

Back  in 2015, Chris and I attended a Love And Respect conference at a local church in the town where Chris works. Some of you may remember me writing about it here. During the course of that day, we split into small groups for a session, and the lady in charge of our group asked us to each introduce ourselves and tell how we heard about the conference. Chris explained how we had seen the church's billboard and looked up the information it gave. The lady's eyes lit up with delight as she listened! She then shared how she had been praying that billboard would reach people and how blessed she was to hear that her prayers had been answered.

That lady's name was Lisa Frisch, and she later found my blog through a mutual friend. Since then, her comments have been an encouragement to me as well as discovering that she also writes and shares at Thoughts Collected By Lisa.

After I wrote my post asking for advice, Lisa commented that she thinks she will write about this subject on her blog. This sparked an idea for me and I asked her if she would be willing to share her post here? She agreed, and I am so happy to be sharing her post today!

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The brave, humble questions of a fellow Christian blogger have sparked my introspection about parenting and aging gracefully. Bethany has five children and writes about a life and faith that I admire, giving me confidence that she will "enjoy each stage and navigate the changes gracefully." I only have sons, but since both are grown men and she asked for advice from women with experience in transitioning from mother-to-children to mother-to-adults, I'm collecting my thoughts on what we did right, what I regret, and the role of God's grace in parenting and aging.

Shortly after I gave birth naturally to our 8 lb 9 oz son (I repeated this 3 1/2 years later), I felt panic rising about not being equipped to handle the challenges that his growing-up-years might present. My husband calmly reassured me that we would "grow up with our kids."

As we shaped our family life, we followed the pattern of our parents. I stayed at home and he worked hard to provide. We took our kids to church every week, encouraging them to participate in Sunday School and Youth Group and to use their talents in church. They made friends there and we spent time with families who shared our values. As I tell in Wear Out Your Chairs, we ate dinner together, adjusting schedules to do so.

Those external practices laid a solid foundation for them. Sadly, though, during their earliest years, I was rather fearful. We were protective of our kids (car seats, bike helmets, vaccinations, orthodontics, etc.), but I worried about things that were hard to control (accidents, influence of rough kids, lyme disease, failure, heartbreak, evils of the internet, etc. See Many Dangers Toils and Snares.) My faith was based more in what I did than in the love of God for me and my kids. It reminds me of Finding Nemo when Marlin tells Dory that he promised to never let anything happen to Nemo. She responds, "That's a funny thing to promise...then nothing would ever happen to him. Not much fun..."

By God's grace, none of the tragedies I imagined came to pass, but things did happen to them. One swallowed the "little vitamin" (birth control pill) I left on the table. One bone did get broken. Both had college roommate issues. And both have endured a broken heart. They have found, as I have, that tests and trials do make us stronger and more mature just as the Bible teaches.

My husband was right. We did grow with our kids. We became scout leaders for their packs; I volunteered in their classrooms; and we supported them in their pursuits. We did life together. It paid off in close relationships with them. When they set out on their own, I transitioned from stay-at-home mom to stay-at-phone mom, available when they wanted to talk. Early adult years included late night phone calls which their dad took with patience and ended with prayer.

As a mom of boys, I have learned that the role does change as they become men. Just as we did, they need to make important decisions. We are blessed that our advice and example can help. With them living two hours away now, much of their daily life is out of my sight. That's not a bad thing. One regret I have about their childhood years is being a bit too protective and treating them as little kids instead of little men. In God's grace, I became aware of Dr. Emerson Eggerichs' Love and Respect message for mothers of sons when I needed to better understand how to communicate my respect for these Good Men.

Father's Day 2008, the year Eric graduated from college and Kyle graduated from high school.

Looking back over thirty years of parenting, I'm thankful for what our sons have become and for how I have grown. Yes, the nest is empty, but I can truly say that I am content in all circumstances - loving the time we spend together and being joyful even when we are apart. Through the years, my husband has continued to listen to my anxious heart and to invest time in our friendship. True, we are growing older, but we're doing it together in the strength of our faithful God. We aren't crazy about some of the physical changes we see, but we try to keep our eyes fixed on what is unseen, because "what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." 2 Corinthians 4:18

My friend Bethany is anticipating "the wistful sadness of no more little people in the house," and I have experienced that, especially when looking at old photos. In my case, God spared me some of the emptiness by moving us to a different city and giving me a new hobby to keep me busy. And for a few years, I've been investing in other peoples' kids through visits to first grade classrooms. And, yes, Bethany, we older women are called to teach the younger ones how to love (be friendly to) their husbands and children. God has blessed me with that ministry where I rejoice to see Him working.

The good old days of 1992 when we were living in Minot, ND.

I don't know what the future holds. I may become a grandmother and get to see my sons be dads. And, I may become a widow as most women do. My anticipated sadness of that could sap the joy right out of this day. So my best advice is to trust in the Lord's promises to never leave us and to supply us with the grace and strength for each day. My "more experienced" older friends testify that His love never fails.

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Thanks again, Lisa, for allowing me to share your post here. I so enjoyed hearing your thoughts and was especially challenged by your enthusiasm for being involved in new ministries as your boys grew up and life changed.

For those of you reading, I hope you follow the links in Lisa's post and enjoy more of her writing!

This ends my "gathered advice", unless someone else feels led to share with me ☺ I may be back with some of my own thoughts to conclude this subject.

Good Mom (by Shannan Martin)

If you are a mom, this is for you. I am an avid reader of all things written by Shannan. I like to pretend we are real life, sit-at-the-table-with-a-cup-of-tea friends. In reality, I only know her through what she writes and a few random messages and emails. Today I'm sharing one of her blog posts with you. Enjoy!

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I stood in my kitchen, dragging a soapy rag across the counter-top in the stillness of a frosty morning, listening in through the tiny speaker of my phone as two women I've never met gabbed. I nodded along and laughed with them. I learned from them. They made doing the dishes a more companionable endeavor. 

"Everyone does motherhood differently. There's no one right way. At the end of the day, my kids are all serving the Lord, so I'm obviously doing something right. That's how I know I'm a good mom."

I rinsed the skillet, drained the sink, and turned her words over and over.
I went about my day, and they went with with me.

I've probably spoken similar things, though not recently. There was a time, earlier in motherhood, when I clung to the cute prayers my toddlers would whisper in the fade of dusk, all their s's filed down with a lisp. I remember "praying the prayer" with a pre-schooler and believing I had fulfilled my life's work.

I penned entire volumes on yellow legal pads to my son sitting in prison and felt closer to the Lord than I'd ever been. And when his responses landed like a song in my mail box, stacked with questions about God, loopy script devoid of punctuation but pulled hard toward possibility, I had never been more certain of His love for me. Robert found God apart from us, and I knew nothing of the jailhouse Jesus. The only Jesus I knew was the one who cannot be outrun. He's the one who sniffs people out in dark corners where they're positioned to listen. I know this from experience.

Yet all around were Christians who found themselves incapable of holding a steady gaze when I glowed about the redemption of my newest son. Their skepticism showed its face in the single arch of an eyebrow and I burned with unholiness. Others dove straight into the deep end of my hallelujah, and I worried I hadn't given them the full story.

The truth is, opinions had no bearing on the gravity of the miracle. Wait, was it a miracle? Or was I just naive? I became vigilant about Robert's spiritual health, constantly taking his pulse, checking his vitals, looking past his pain in search of fire. I was a good mom, after all. My status hinged on it staying lit.

Over time, I quietly grew satisfied with just a few curls of smoke. You know what they say about smoke, that somewhere, something smolders. All it takes is one strong whip of wind... 

He moved in, and the roots of our love pulled us equally under, anchoring us as a family. He moved toward us, and away from God. He sat in the dark - we sat there with him - and he said he wanted us forever, but not our faith. 


The longer I'm a mom, the less I really know. I'm probably not alone in this. 

But here are a few things I do know. I know the church has allowed us to believe our job is to raise children of God, or maybe it's soldiers for Christ or Jesus Freaks or some other cliche that feeds our hunger for independence and pride. It's half true at most, and the distinction is important. We are tasked with leading our children well, pointing them to the cross while bearing the unique weight of not owning another's soul. Nothing more. 

I know our kids who look us straight in the eye and say they don't want God might be the very people God uses to remind us of His unflagging affection and authority. 

I know when we default to boring, blanket statements about whether or not we're getting things "right", it's only because we know there are so many glaring things we're getting wrong. We are all hard-wired to self-soothe. We want so badly to sleep at night. I get it. But we are not fooled by our own words. These platitudes do not strengthen the kingdom. 

// 

I am learning to count grace where I find it, often in the most unlikely places. Two nights ago I wrestled for it in the dark. Where was it? 

The wrenching truth is, I pray for the salvation of all my children (and you know I use "children" loosely) but I can do nothing to secure it. There are moms who have "heard from the Lord" that their children will all come to serve Christ. I am not her.

I do hear from the Lord. Our talks are unfancy treasure, infusing the air around me. They are my feet on the pavement, my hand on my child's cheek, the water beating down on my shoulders in the morning, the closed fists of blossoms making promises they will keep. He loves me. He adores you. He created R in His image, with intention. I can be sure of this. 

Our job is not to lasso our kids' hearts for God then hand Him the rope. We cannot tie our goodness to an outcome that was never ours to to create.We've gotten this all wrong. Our job is to reflect His goodness while we are here in the land of the fumbling, wrecking-ball living. 

It's time to reshape this narrative. 

When I walk in my limitations, I am a good mom. When I remember my cupboards are bare of power and sovereignty, I am a good mom. 
When I have the courage to look at my screw-ups and past theirs, I am a good mom. 
When I am willing to see myself in their thin places, I am a good mom. 
When I pull my wanderer into a tight hug and promise there is no end to my love, I am a good mom. 
When I speak the truth, pray, and hold up my light with shaking arms because it's all I know to do, I am a good mom. 

When I never stop hoping, I am a good mom. 

God holds us in his palm. We can only feel the ground under our own two feet. But it's bright here. It's warm. We radiate the goodness of our safe place. It's impossible to know who might be moving toward the light on our faces. 

Maybe that's the whole point and perhaps it is exactly enough.

-- Shannan Martin

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If you enjoyed this, you might also like to know that Shannan has a book coming out in September! You can pre-order it here.

Blessings on your weekend.

You are a Good Mom.

A House Takes Shape.

When we go to church everyone seems to want to know, "how our house is coming along" They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so I guess this is a 23,000 word post. This is how our house is coming along....................................... 

 

 A Guest post by: The Builder :)

 

Dear Groom

 On the occasion of a couple's return from their honeymoon:

Dear Brand New Groom,

Was I you, once upon a time? That seems to be an amazingly long time ago, and sometimes it seems like only yesterday. I wonder what did you always dream being married would be like.

I look at you, and I wonder, how much do you know about marriage?

Do you have any idea what it's like to become one with a woman, to leave all and make a new unit, just the two of you? Do you have any concept of this woman’s deepest longings. How much she craves your implicit love and understanding. How she will want to know she is yours and yours alone. Do you realize the vast difference in a woman's needs compared to your own. Do you have any grasp at all of the importance of feelings to a woman. Do you realize how much differently you process thinking and feeling than she does? You think, and then think, and then feel. She feels and then feels, and then she might think, if she feels like it. (I hope you know a little something about feeling)

I wonder, have you had any bumps in your road yet - any arguments, any disagreements? Has she criticized your family, or you hers? Has she done something you just really don't like, said something that hurt you down deep? Has the realization of all that will be expected of you, all that will be new and different, seeped into your blissful bubble at all?

I was you, once upon a time, and I sat in someone's wedding service, holding my brand new wife’s hand, and the preacher kept repeating, "Marriage is hard work!" And I rolled my eyes and pitied the poor preacher, too bad his marriage didn’t work out like he had hoped! And, almost fourteen years later, I still roll my eyes at that poor man. My wife tries to give him the benefit of the doubt, she  says, “I know what the preacher meant, even if he didn’t say it very well” I’m less tolerant of the picture he paints of marriage. Marriage IS rosy cheeks and shining eyes and beautiful bouquets of roses and knights in shining armor, of course it is! That’s the whole point. If yours isn’t, you’re doing it wrong!

So, when you find yourself doing it wrong, stop! Don’t fall into the marriage grind, just don’t. Make a promise to yourself to never accept a marriage that is “hard work” We ALL do it wrong, occasionally, the trick is recognizing when it’s wrong and making it right as quickly as possible. As the leader of your home, make keeping your marriage “fun work” at the top of your list. Life and marriage include work, but never let it be drudgery.

I was you, once upon a time, Brand New Groom, and if I could go back, I would do it again, without question. In spite of all the bumps and the lessons and the things you will find out the hard way, it IS more than worth it. Just remember, Marriage is: (A.) Rosy cheeks and shining eyes and beautiful bouquets of roses and knights in shining armor, OR (B) Hard work, and drudgery and fighting and arguing and heartbreak. Your choice, pick A or B.

Here’s to many happy years of choice A. And if you find yourself experiencing choice B just stop and choose choice A again.

I wish you all the best!

Guest Posted by: The man whose first response was, “HUH?”