Tag: Family

Celebrating the End of a School Year—and a Remarkable Career

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As the 2024–2025 school year draws to a close, we find ourselves reflecting on moments of joy, gratitude, and transition. At the heart of this season of celebration is someone who has faithfully guided generations through Christian education: Mr. Debrick, Mini Me’s beloved principal, is retiring after an extraordinary 41 years in Lutheran education—27 of those years serving at Zion Lutheran School in Saint Charles.

Our school and church communities came together to honor him with well-deserved celebrations, expressing heartfelt thanks for his steadfast leadership, his devotion to Christian values, and his deep love for students, families, and staff. It was a moving farewell—filled with appreciation, laughter, and a few tears as we lifted him up in prayer and sent him off with blessings for this new chapter in life.

While we celebrated the close of a remarkable career, we also rejoiced in a new beginning. Mini Me’s teacher, Miss Schnegelberger, just completed her very first year in the classroom. With enthusiasm and humility, she shared her reflections on social media, writing how much she has learned and how eager she is to continue growing. There’s something beautiful in witnessing both ends of a vocation—a hopeful start and a faithful finish.

“You’ll always remember your first class and your last class.” That truth resonates deeply. I can still recall nearly every face from my first year of teaching, and just as many from my final year, but fewer from the years in between. The beginning and the end stay with you, yet it’s the in-between, the long, steady walk of service that leaves the most lasting legacy.

Mr. Debrick and Mini Me at the start of the 2024-2025 school year.

Reflecting on Mr. Debrick’s career, I’m awed by the immense change he navigated with courage and vision. The evolution of technology in education alone is a testament to how much the world shifted during his time. From chalkboards and overhead projectors with transparencies (young teachers, go Google those!) to computer labs, then one-to-one devices, and finally Smart Boards—Mr. Debrick shepherded Zion through every innovation. In fact, one of his last projects as principal was overseeing the installation of a brand-new set of Smart Boards.

But it wasn’t just the classroom tools that changed—it was the world itself. Mr. Debrick began his career amid the “Just Say No” era and the AIDS crisis. He guided Zion through the tragic events of 9/11, the heartbreak of school shootings like Columbine, and the implementation of new safety protocols such as intruder drills. My own family experienced firsthand his steady, faith-filled leadership during the COVID-19 pandemic—a time that demanded wisdom, adaptability, and deep trust in God. I will always admire the strength with which he led our school community through that unprecedented season.

Yet Mr. Debrick would be the first to say he didn’t do any of it alone. He walked each day hand-in-hand with his Savior, always pointing others toward Jesus. His humble spirit, servant heart, and love for his Heavenly Father were evident in every decision he made, every student he greeted, every teacher he encouraged. That example of faith in action may well be his greatest gift to us all.

One of the most touching moments during his Right of Farewell and Godspeed service at church was a special performance by a junior high choir, assembled just for the occasion, who sang Mr. Debrick’s favorite song: “Make Me a Servant.” He loves this song so deeply that he often invited his staff to sing it together, a musical reminder of the calling they shared.

There’s a version of the song that holds particular meaning, and the lyrics are worth carrying close:

These words echo the life and career Mr. Debrick lives. He taught children about Jesus—not only through chapel messages or religion classes but through his daily actions, his kindness, and his unwavering faith. I will carry those lyrics with me, just as so many others will, remembering the power of humble service and the sacredness of a life poured out for others.

My family of three have been at Zion for 7 years with Mini Me starting preschool at age 3 and just completing the 4th grade. What a blessing it has been to have Mr. Debrick’s leadership at Zion and what a legacy he leaves behind after 41 years in Lutheran education!

From the Talley family: Thank you, Mr. Debrick, for everything. For your warm wave each morning. For your constant smile. For always putting Jesus, children, and families first. Your devotion has made a lasting impact, and your presence will be deeply missed.

We wish you a retirement full of rest, golf, Kansas City Chiefs games, and of course plenty of popcorn! Congratulations on an incredible milestone. May God continue to bless you and your family on the journey ahead!

Mr. Debrick, the Noteworthy Mommy and Mini Me at Mr. Debrick’s “Right of Farewell and Godspeed” Service.

Breaking the Toy Mold: A Tomboy’s Journey Through Play and Stereotypes

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I was never a doll person. While other little girls were happily brushing Barbie’s hair, I was racing Hot Wheels cars across the kitchen floor and reenacting epic battles with my Star Wars action figures. It wasn’t that I actively rejected dolls—I just never felt drawn to them. What fascinated me were the sleek designs of Matchbox cars, the intricate details and the thrilling adventures I could create with my plastic heroes.

But growing up in the late 70’s/early 80’s, toy aisles were strictly divided. There was no mistaking the boy section from the girl section. The boy aisle had the cool stuff—cars, action figures, spaceships, adventure sets—while the girl aisle was a sea of pink, filled with dolls, play kitchens, and frilly accessories. I didn’t fit neatly into the mold of what a little girl was “supposed” to like, and that realization hit me hard at my friend Ryan’s seventh birthday party.

At the end of the party, all the boys were given a shiny new Hot Wheels car as a party favor, while the girls received small dolls. I remember clutching that doll in my hand, my stomach sinking. I wanted the car. Why couldn’t I have the car? But I was a shy kid, too afraid to speak up, too afraid to say, “Hey, I like those better.” So I went home with a toy that felt foreign in my hands, a reminder that I was somehow different, even if I couldn’t quite understand why.

A few of my Hot Wheels cars.

I tried to push down that feeling of isolation, but it followed me. When I saved up my money to buy a Star Wars action figure; one I had been dreaming about. I was both excited and anxious. My parents encouraged independence, so they told me that if I wanted it, I had to buy it myself. That meant walking up to the cashier, speaking to an unfamiliar adult, and completing the transaction on my own. For a child with anxiety and an intense fear of talking to strangers, this was a monumental task.

With my heart pounding, I placed my prized Empire Strikes Back action figure on the counter, ready to claim what was mine. But instead of a simple exchange, I was met with a condescending, puzzled expression from the cashier.

“Why are you buying a toy made for a boy?”

The words stung. My excitement deflated instantly, replaced with shame. I didn’t know how to respond. Was I doing something wrong? Was I weird? The comment burrowed into my mind, reinforcing a growing sense that my interests were somehow unacceptable. I mumbled something, took my action figure, and hurried out of the store. But that interaction stayed with me.

I was lucky, my parents and grandparents never made me feel like I had to play with dolls. Sure, they tried buying them for me at first, but when they saw my enthusiasm for toy cars and Star Wars, they embraced it. They bought me Hot Wheels and action figures, and I built up an impressive collection, carefully stored in a Darth Vader-shaped carrying case. I still have them today, and they remain some of my most treasured childhood possessions.

My childhood Star Wars toys. The Darth Vader head is filled with action figures.

Looking back now, 43 years later, I’m relieved to see the toy industry making strides toward breaking down gender stereotypes. More parents are open to their sons playing with dolls and their daughters playing with cars. It’s heartening to see kids being given the freedom to explore what they truly enjoy, rather than being pushed into predetermined boxes.

But we still have a long way to go.

Every time I travel for work, I pass by a toy store in my local airport, and that old feeling creeps up again. Why? Because despite all the progress, there is still an unmistakable divide. One wall, boldly labeled BOYS, lined with miniature Hot Wheels cars. The opposite wall, labeled GIRLS, stocked with Barbies in every shade of pink.

Seen in an airport in March 2025!

Maybe things haven’t changed as much as I’d hoped!

I’m grateful for the progress, but I’m also reminded of how deeply ingrained these stereotypes still are. And I think of all the kids today who might feel the same way I did—shy, uncertain, wondering why they don’t fit the mold. I hope, as time goes on, we continue to challenge these outdated ideas and let kids be exactly who they are. Because no child should ever feel like they’re wrong for loving the things that make them happy.

Celebrating Mini Me’s Baptismal Birthday

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February 22 is a special day in our family—it’s Mini Me’s Baptismal Birthday! Each year, we take time to remember the day she was baptized into God’s family at Zion Lutheran Church in Belleville, IL, the same church where I was baptized as a baby.

Mini Me’s Baptism Day!

The Gift of Baptism

In the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod (LCMS), we believe that Baptism is a miraculous work of God, not something we do for Him, but something He does for us. Through water and His Word, God creates faith in the heart of even the smallest infant. While we may not fully understand how this happens, we trust in His promises. Parents and godparents take on the responsibility of nurturing this faith, teaching the child about Jesus so that their faith may grow and remain strong, as Jesus commands in Matthew 28:18-20.

A Joyous Day of Family and Faith

Mini Me was surrounded by so much love on her baptism day. Her Godmother, Aunt Kay Kay, traveled from Ohio, while my husband’s sister came from Georgia. My cousin Julie and her husband Rick also stood as her Godparents. Along with other family members and close friends, we celebrated this important step in her life.

One of the special symbols from that day is her baptismal candle. It serves as a beautiful reminder that the light of Christ now shines in her life. Every year on her Baptismal Birthday, Mini Me loves lighting her candle, celebrating the faith that was given to her in those holy waters.

And of course, what’s a celebration without a sweet treat? Our tradition includes donuts with sprinkles—those tiny drops of sweetness reminding us of the water sprinkled on her head during her Baptism. It’s a simple yet meaningful way to mark this sacred anniversary.

Mini Me with her baptismal candle and donuts with sprinkles!

Remembering the Promise

Baptism is not just a one-time event but a lifelong gift. It’s a promise that God is always with her, guiding her, strengthening her faith, and calling her His own. Each year, as we light her candle and enjoy our sprinkle-covered donuts, we give thanks for this amazing gift of grace and look forward to seeing how God continues to work in her life.

It was a glorious day then, and it’s a glorious day every time we remember it. Happy Baptismal Birthday, Mini Me!

Reenacting a Family Photo

1972- Me, my mom and grandma on the day of my baptism
2015-Mini Me, me, and my mom on the day of Mini Me’s baptism.

Welcome to 4th Grade

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At the start of this school year, I found myself hesitant, almost mourning the end of early childhood as my daughter stepped into 4th grade. It felt like a shift I wasn’t quite ready for—one that marked the passing of time in a way that tugged at my heart. The days of little hands and endless snuggles were fading, and I wasn’t sure what this new chapter would bring. My degree is in early childhood education, and this new stage was filled with the unknown.

Mini Me on the first day of fourth grade

But now, halfway through the year, I see that this stage of parenting is not something to fear—it’s something to love. I’ve found joy in the deepening connection we share, in the inside jokes that make us burst into laughter, and in the excitement of rushing home to tell Daddy the funny stories from our day. I cherish seeing the world through her eyes as she grows in confidence, trying new things like playing the violin, working hard in dance, falling in love with theatre, and advancing to the next level in softball. Watching her discover her passions and push herself to new heights fills me with pride and excitement.

Academically, she is thriving. Her love for reading and writing is stronger than ever, and she has even created her own virtual book clubs—one with a friend and another with her grandmothers and aunts. Seeing her passion for stories and discussion brings me so much joy, and I love watching her enthusiasm for learning grow.

A big part of this journey has been navigating the year with Miss Schnegelberger, her teacher—a fourth-generation Lutheran educator and a first-year teacher who has already made such a meaningful impact. Not only is she supporting my daughter academically, but she is also guiding her in faith, teaching her about Jesus, and helping her grow into a kind, thoughtful person. Miss Schnegelberger has encouraged my little rule-follower to relax a bit, to enjoy life, and to not take everything so seriously—something I know all too well from my own nature.

Mini Me and Miss S.

Beyond the classroom, my daughter continues to amaze me with her leadership and creativity. She is the great negotiator, always finding ways to make her friend group happy, ensuring that everyone feels included and heard. On the playground, she and her besties, Abby and Penelope, dive into elaborate role-playing games, imagining themselves as sisters who recently lost their mother or a family who live on a farm with horses. And perhaps one of the most inspiring things about her is her fearless approach to trying new things. This year, she picked up the violin without hesitation—quite the opposite of me, the Noteworthy Mommy, who was so shy and afraid, only willing to try what my best friend was doing.

I realize now that each new stage brings something beautiful. I’m no longer dreading what’s next—I’m embracing it. The unknown doesn’t feel so scary anymore; it feels full of possibility. So bring it on! I can’t wait to see where this motherhood journey takes me next!

O Christmas Tree.. Love Beyond Your Branches

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The soft glow of twinkling lights filled the living room one last time as I stood before the Christmas tree, its slender branches adorned with shimmering white, red and silver ornaments. The bright red treble clefs I’d chosen this year, a nod to our love of music, seemed to hum silently in the stillness, their presence a joyful chorus of memories.

This tree had been more than a decoration—it had been the heartbeat of our holiday season. Friends and family had gathered around it, their laughter echoing through the house. Each visit felt like a precious gift, and I’d made a point to document the moments, snapping photos of every guest standing beside the tree. Each picture became a keepsake of the love and connection we shared, moments we wouldn’t soon forget.

But now, the season had come to an end. The time had come to take it all down. With every ornament I carefully removed, a wave of sadness washed over me. I remembered the sparkle in my daughter’s eyes as she admired the carefully wrapped packages under its branches, the stories shared late into the night beneath its glow, and the warmth that filled our home. It was as if I were packing away not just decorations, but pieces of joy and togetherness.

Yet, as the last ornament was tucked away and the tree dismantled, a quiet realization dawned on me. The beauty of the tree, the memories it held, and even the celebration of Christ’s birth—they weren’t confined to a season or an object. The love shared, the joy expressed, and the faith in my heart were not bound to the Christmas tree.

Jesus’s birth wasn’t a fleeting event, a story to be celebrated and forgotten. It was a beginning—a promise of hope, love, and constant presence. As I stood in the now-empty space where the tree once stood, I found comfort in knowing that the spirit of Christmas remained. Jesus is with me, always. His light doesn’t depend on a string of bulbs or a shimmering star atop a tree. It shines in my heart, in the love I give and receive, and in the memories my family and friends carry forward.

I took one last look at the photos I’d taken—smiling faces framed by the tree’s splendor—and smiled. The sadness of the moment was replaced by gratitude. Gratitude for the love of those around me, for the joy of the season, and for the reminder that Christmas wasn’t about the decorations but about a love that lasts long after the decorations are packed away.

Smiling faces framed by the Christmas tree’s splendor.

Mom Takes the Cake…Baked With Love

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My mom loves cake! Sponge, triple chocolate, strawberry, banana, almond…she isn’t picky. But her favorites are a lot like her, uncomplicated and sweet; angel food and white cake with vanilla frosting.

My mom loves cake and everyone knows it. When she’s at a family celebration, a church gathering, or a party of any kind, she always leaves with an overflowing plate of leftover cake, carefully prepared just for her by the host or hostess. And when the birthday cake is cut at a family party you’ll hear, “Make sure Aunt Janet gets a big piece!” Or a piece of each if there are multiple flavors. My mom loves cake!

From an early age my mom loved baking. As a child she hand crafted miniature baked goods with the help of her fully functional miniature toy oven. While other kids were playing outside, mom was left to her own devices, creating new delicacies complete with homemade frosting.

Mom’s love of baking continued into adulthood when she began getting recognized for her craft. Her baked goods were adorned with blue ribbons year after year at local competitions and she was crowned not once, not twice, but three times, Grand Champion Cake Baker of the County Fair! She was featured multiple times in the local newspapers, was interviewed on the radio, and everyone requested her recipes.

Mom with one of her award winning cakes.

Every year my mom would lovingly bake me a homemade, multi-layered cake for my Christmas birthday. Creatively decorated by my dad, and with my birthday angel announcing my age in the middle. In 1978 the cake had three layers, one red, one white, and one blue, for the bicentennial. Looking back the cakes were truly a labor of love, taking hours to complete. One year I did the unthinkable. I boldly declared, “I wish I had a store bought birthday cake like everyone else!” In that moment it was as if I had taken a cake knife to my mom’s heart and that was the end of my decadent homemade multi-layered birthday cakes. From then on I had nothing but store bought cakes. As a young tween I didn’t know my mom’s love language was baking, with an extra emphasis on cake, something that has taken me 40 years to realize. Like Jenna, from the Broadway musical Waitress, mom puts more than just sugar, butter, flour into her baking. She adds lots of love and bakes from the heart! I loved the special birthday cakes you made me. Thank you, mom.

I have happily been on the receiving end of many scrumptious treats over the years but I never inherited my mom’s gift of baking or her passion for it. I simply don’t have the patience. Mom doesn’t bake as much as she used to but that hasn’t stopped her from teaching the next generation how to bake. A few times a year she will enlist the help of her only grandchild (my daughter) and the two will spend an afternoon in the kitchen baking cookies or cupcakes or banana bread with chocolate chips. Giggles flow from the kitchen, secrets shared. Memories are made as my mom shares her gift, her love with her granddaughter. Reminding me, “It’s amazing what baking can do!”

Happy Birthday Mom!

Joy and Light For Christmas, During the Dark of Winter, and All Year Through

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Merry Christmas and Happy New Year Year 2022 from my family of three!

A belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from the Noteworthy Mommy! My family of three had a wonderful Advent season with beautiful concerts, lavish gatherings, meaningful church services and many wonderful memories made with family and friends. I celebrated my 50th birthday on Christmas Day (more about that in another post) and as I look back on the weeks leading up to our Savior’s birth, I am greeted with nothing but warm, happy memories.

But my family of three has had a rough start to the new year and as I sit here writing this greatly overdo message, I’m recovering from COVID and the overwhelming feeling of joy I felt during that time has faded. When I pass by our tired Christmas tree and see other decorations still decking our halls (I’ve been too exhausted to take them down), the once festive décor has lost its magical glow and now stands sadly forgotten in the shadows; eagerly waiting to be attended to, packed up and forgotten until next year.

Then I am taken back to some of those wonderful memories and am reminded how everywhere I looked throughout the season of Advent and during the season of Christmas, I saw or heard the word JOY. Not unusual since JOY is the word assigned to the third week in Advent and the song “Joy to the World” is in the top ten most beloved Christmas carols of all time. Or perhaps, after living in a COVID world for two years, we are all simply looking for some JOY.

And thanks to YouTube (click on the highlighted links below) I listened once again to the sermons my pastor gave regarding JOY on the third Sunday of Advent and again on Christmas Eve. I can hear Pastor Rouland say, “Joy is not just a synonym for happiness because happiness is fleeting, something that happens to us or wells up inside of us.” Like the feeling I get when I think of the fun I had celebrating with friends and family, the excitement I have playing music and singing in my church choir or the thrill of giving and receiving Christmas gifts this year. The feelings are real but fleeting, as the sins of this world bring us from highs to lows like a roller coaster of emotion. That is not joy. For JOY is different, a much deeper thing. Pastor Rouland continues, “JOY comes where faith, and difficulty and life connect. JOY is realizing that the struggle of following God in this life is worth it. That’s JOY that comes from Christ to you.”

So as I write this message I am certainly not as happy as I was in those memories, a mere month ago. My house is a mess, I’m not feeling 100% and my mini me is driving me crazy as she is literally bouncing off the walls but guess what…I have JOY. Pastor Rouland reminded me that JOY is not just the culmination of what is happening to me or how I feel. I have JOY because I know what Jesus has done for me. I have JOY knowing that He died for me and I have JOY because one day I will experience unimaginable, everlasting JOY in Heaven with Him. And because of that JOY I also have thanksgiving. I am thankful for God and all He has given me, the good and the bad. For the deep days make me stronger and help me see the tiny glimmers of light that come in the form of hope, peace, joy, and love. And through this dark time of being sick and helping my husband recover from surgery, there are waves of light that come in the form of friends and family who are praying, bringing food, and sending daily texts. And all of this light is created by God. For He has placed these beautiful people in my life. He is the light of the world, the center of my world, and He is JOY.

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, Rejoice! PHILIPPIANS 4:4

Even though this message is late, I hope you take the time to listen. My daughter’s talented teacher, Amy Bernhardt, gives the children’s message in both services and if you watch the entire Christmas Eve service you will see and hear me singing in the treble choir. “Mary Did You Know,” one of my favorite contemporary Christmas songs, is the selection my choir sings during communion.

Christmas Eve Service 2021- 3:00- Zion Lutheran Church

Christmas Card Prayers

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What do you do with all of the delightful Christmas cards friends and family send you? This year we got some beautiful cards, including many photo cards, and it would be a shame to throw them away or put them in a box in the basement without doing something special.

When my friend Kristin shared this idea with my Moms in Prayer group, it was simply too good not to pass along to my Noteworthy Mommy readers! Kristen and her family put all of their cards in a basket. Each day they pull a card from the basket and then, as a family, they pray for the people who sent them the card. I simply love this idea! It’s a great way to enjoy your cards one last time before tossing them or packing them away and it allows you to connect with family and friends through prayer. Since most of our cards were photo cards, my mini me will see a picture of the people we are praying for. And what a lovely way to incorporate prayer and praying for others into the home. This will be the start of another fabulous Christmas tradition. Thank you Kristin for this brilliant idea! If you have additional ideas of things to do with Christmas cards, please post a comment and share.

Uncle Boyd…A Genuine Renaissance Man

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Words can’t express how much this wonderful man will be missed here on Earth. How much I am missing him. Uncle Boyd was truly one of a kind. A Renaissance man with so many God given talents and a fun loving personality to go with those talents.

Uncle Boyd took up drawing in his retirement and these are some of the amazing birds he drew.

He loved children and always made sure they were included, going out of his way to make sure they felt special and were recognized. He got down on their level (which wasn’t easy to do with his tall stature) and softly spoke to them instead of at them. I loved seeing him interact with my mini me. Although they only met a few times, I have pleasant memories of my daughter laughing at her Great Uncle Boyd’s jovial antics. And as a mother, I appreciated the authentic connection he made with her.

Uncle Boyd loved children.

Uncle Boyd was a wordsmith. And when he spoke I hung onto every word! I can think of nothing I loved more than sitting in a comfy chair in his living room and listening to Uncle Boyd share his thoughts on education and learning. He was so well read, so well spoken…a brilliant mind! I always walked away from one of those conversations enlightened, looking at things in a new light and feeling more optimistic for the future. And like all great teachers, he never stopped learning. He constantly sought new experiences, studied and acknowledged differences and was willingly open to challenging himself. You would always find him reading a new book or two, often one for pleasure but always one or more on education reform or how the brain works or on how people learn. He never lectured “at you” but with his warm and gentle manner, guided you to think outside of yourself and to look at things in a different way. What a blessing those mini lectures were! What a blessing Uncle Boyd was to me and to my family of three! I truly am a better person because of him.

Uncle Boyd had so much fun with my mini me!

After my husband and I married and Uncle Boyd and Aunt Dixie became my new relations, I always made a point to meet up with them when I was in Minnesota for work. The educators I worked with would often comment how nice it was that I would take the time to visit my husband’s aunt and uncle but what they didn’t realize is I was the one benefiting from those visits! Uncle Boyd always asked me questions and he listened to me with interest and full concentration. When we were engaged in conversation I felt safe and carefree, as if the world and all of it’s problems were put on pause and the only thing of importance was our present conversation.

Uncle Boyd didn’t know a stranger. He was beloved everywhere he went. When I accompanied him to many of his favorite establishments (Punch Pizza, Nicollet Island Inn, Culver’s, just to make a few) he was given a personal greeting. Uncle Boyd always took the time to get to know others whether it be his neighbors, students, workers, church members or the servers at his favorite restaurants. In fact, I was beginning to wonder if Uncle Boyd could go anywhere without being recognized! When he and Aunt Dixie traveled to our wedding, a consultant friend of mine saw Uncle Boyd at breakfast and asked, “Dr. Purdom, what are you doing in southern IL?” He was one of her favorite college professors and she couldn’t believe I was marrying his nephew! Another time I was training teachers and happened to mention Uncle Boyd. Several teachers and an administrator commented how they had him as a professor and he had changed their views on child advocacy and adoption, inspiring one to become a foster parent. He noticed people, made them feel important and his smile and gentle nature always made people happy and at ease.

One of the many fabulous dinners we enjoyed together over the years.

My family of three hosted Christmas for the first time this year and before we even heard of his illness I had planned to read one of Uncle Boyd’s poems before dinner. It seemed fitting that his most recent poem was about family. He loved his family so very much. Along with education, those memorable conversations in his living room would always include stories of family. Stories of his days as a professor and his students, many who were like family. Aunt Dixie and Uncle Boyd opened their home up to college students during the holidays and always made sure that students who couldn’t be with their families had a place to gather. His face lit up as he shared stories about his daughter Angela. How very proud he was of his little girl! Some tell tale stories about his brothers and his wife and her sisters would always provide some good laughs! Uncle Boyd was a man of great faith and a conversation would never go by without him acknowledging his Heavenly Father and his love for his church. Uncle Boyd brought joy to all of us and we will all miss him. The lessons he taught, the jokes he played, the words he wrote, the pictures he painted and the love he showed to all of us, will never be forgotten. He will live on through each of us and through future generations. Until we meet again, my dear Uncle Boyd.

Uncle Boyd’s 2021 Christmas poem.
Due to COVID and being unable to safely travel, my last visit with Uncle Boyd was on August 28, 2018.

An Easter Message From the Noteworthy Mommy

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He is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! How vastly different this Easter was compared to last year! Although we had to make reservations at church, participated in Easter worship on Saturday night, wore masks, and were unable to gather with my in-laws, it was a glorious celebration! Through the death and resurrection of our Lord and Savior we find hope.

I know my Easter message is a bit late, Easter Sunday has come and gone after all, but don’t forget, it is still Easter. Easter begins with the resurrection of our Lord and extends through Pentecost, so that gives me 50 days to send my readers Easter blessings! Below is a fun Easter activity that kids of all ages will enjoy. Easter Sunday has passed but we continue to celebrate our risen Savior!

Alleluia Shakers– My church has a special tradition of Alleluia Shakers during the Easter season. A basket of Alleluia Shakers for the young members of our congregation are usually found at the entrance to the sanctuary and the children enjoy shaking them every time they hear or sing the word Alleluia. COVID has prevented us from having the basket of shakers at church so my daughter made her own. We decorated a plastic egg and filled it with rice to make our shakers. CLICK HERE to learn how to make a shaker of your own. We are taking them to church throughout the Easter season and proudly shake them in celebration of the good news that Jesus is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! We made extras to share with our home bound friends as part of our Live Generously ministry.

As we begin to see the other side of the pandemic, may you safely gather again with family and friends, rejoice in the fact that favorite activities are being reintroduced into your life and never forget the lessons the past year has taught. Some things may stay forever changed but one thing will never change… Jesus loves you!