“Get to” Moments


I saw this the other morning,
and I didn’t even read the post that went with it
because my mind was stuck on this!

“Get to” not “have to.”

Think of little things that are mundane, something we do every day,
all the time, routine, over and over, things we HAVE to do.
We shouldn’t call them a drudgery,
but sometimes we get in a rut of groaning
and it just gets so wearying to do it all again.

But what if we would see these things for the blessings they are.
We get to do them.
We are blessed to be able to do them.
Call it the privilege it is.
Why do I complain when it’s something to be grateful for,
something others wish they had?

I get to do those dishes again.
I am blessed with a family to feed and plenty of food to do so.

Picking up after the kids.
It means they are having fun, enjoying life, able to run.

One more load of dirty laundry.
We have clothes to wear. end of story!

Cooking yet another meal.
I get to!!
It means I have a husband and kids who are healthy and want to eat.

Getting up at 6am on a Saturday with Little One when all I want to do is sleep.
I have a daughter, one who enjoys mornings more then I, but I have a daughter.
What more do I need to say?

Packing lunches. one more day.
My kids are privileged to attend a Christian day school!
(and I don’t have to home school)

The list is endless.
Blessings that we want to grumble about.
Things we call mundane.
Privileges we take for granted.

Think “I get to” instead of “I have to” next time you want to groan.
I tried to put that into practice the last while,
especially when I was doing tasks that are less the pleasant.
I “get to” do this!


After thinking about this for awhile,
I mentioned it when our church ladies were together the other night.
One of the others said something else I’ve been pondering since
that kind of goes along with this.

What about all those things we call little.
Little jobs, little tasks, mundane things we do,
thinking that we are doing little things,
waiting for God to ask us to do something great.
“Here I am,” we think, “being faithful in the little things,
waiting, waiting on something big!”

But if they aren’t really as little as we think?
Could these “little things” actually be big things?
A hug for your child.
A card for a friend.
Another meal for your family.
One more load of laundry.

These things we are doing that we call little,
they are actually something great, something big.
It means something for the one you do it for!

Why wait for the next thing we think will be great?
Why not realize these “get to” moments for the blessings they are
and love doing them instead of complaining.

Don’t wait for tomorrow, next week or next year,
for things you call great!
You are doing great things right here, right now.
Relish in your “get to” moments,
don’t dread them.

Now give me some examples of “get to” moments for you!

Meet Samson

Our family has increased by 1.
He’s a fuzzy wuzzy, black and furry,
jumping, barking, whining pup.

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Meet Samson.
aka: Sam, Sammy, Sam I Am,
or anything else I yell in the middle of the night.

(Sorry to disappoint ya if you were hoping for some other kind of announcement.)

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I am not overly fond of animals and would be happy to live without them,
but Eric’s been saying we need a dog for Dakota for a long time now.
Mr D was/is scared of dogs, dreadfully so,
and Eric thought having his own would help.

Thursday night this one was hand delivered,
and he was ours, whether we wanted him or not.
Well they all did, the Mother, not so much.

They promptly brought him in,
named him, and he had a home.

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{“Oh, I just love, love, love, his ears!” -Mr D}

Friday morning, they were all up with the birds,
to feed, water and care for this dog.
The Mom knows how long that will last.

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{Watching the girls leave for school.}

Dakota spent all day outside with him.
I was happy to see him loving this dog
and I asked if he’s not scared of dogs anymore.
“Well, I’m not scared of this one, but he’s little. I don’t like big ones.”
The fact that Sam is going to get quite big will remain our secret.

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He would pen him up and let him loose,
go for a walk, drive a jeep and Sam would be right behind.

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They did a lot of exploring in the woods before the girls came home,
probably more then Dakota has done all summer.

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And then Reagan came home from school.
She loves this dog as much as Dakota and couldn’t wait to play with him.
She threw her things in the door and raced outside.
Much to her dismay,
Sam loved Dakota more than her.

It didn’t take Mr D long to figure out
that if he walked way, Sam would follow him.
Much to his delight, he could aggravate Reagan to no end with this.

And round and round they went.

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I finally got them playing together in the leaf pile
and they all had fun. I think.
Sam soon tired out and wanted to sleep.
Mr D wanted to cover him with leaves.
Reagan would not hear of that.
And round and round they went.

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Sam still has a few lessons to learn about nighttime behavior.
As in, sleeping all night with no crying.
There was a pillow over my head one night
and a trip outside the next.
You’d think we had a newborn!

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Many many years ago, I had a Sam of my own.
I think I’m about to have one again once the newness wears off.

By the way, has anyone seen our cat?
Last sighting here was a fast exit for the woods
with a black streak behind him.

Those Dishes

Mr D decided to go drive his jeep,
which prompted Reagan to go drive another one and race with him,
which prompted Madison to rip outside with her own battery
and squish into a jeep
and at the end of this very long run on sentence,
they are currently yelling and screaming outside in the lawn.

I, on the other hand,
am doing a stellar job of avoiding
all the dirty dishes sitting here.
Yes, we do have a dishwasher,
and no, there is not a spare spot left empty in it.
It is currently jam full and happily running.
It was a day full of dishes, sadly.

Growing up I washed dishes all the time.
All the time.
Yes Mother, I did, my memory serves me well.

When we lived in the basement,
I remember absolutely dreading that moment
after eating when Mom would start clearing the table.
“Come on Shannon, help me do the dishes.”

Ugh, for a row of 6 sisters I never wished for more.

On days when Mom fed the farmers,
there was an astronomical amount of dishes in my young eyes.
My cousin was usually around and we washed and dried them together.

Mom’s comments would be,
“If you hurry, you’ll be done sooner and you can go play!”
That logic didn’t work.
1 dish. 1 dish. ever so slowly.
“Why don’t you race the clock? Be done before 1:30.”
Didn’t work.
On we plodded.

I’m sure by the time we were half way done
and Mom had cleaned everything else up,
she offered to finish so we could go.
Who wouldn’t instead of pushing 2 girls along.

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(My snitch off my MIL)

I never grew to love doing dishes
and that is the reason I sit here typing,
instead of doing them first.

Madison just walked in.
“I really don’t feel like being out there!”
My reply, “Then do the dishes.”
She made a swift U turn and said,
“I really do feel like being out there.”
I see the lack of love is being passed along.

My girls are spoiled with a dishwasher.
Sometimes I contemplate not using it one night,
just to make them appreciate it,
but I’ve never gone through with it.
What if I would end up having to do them?

All that said, I am thankful.
Thankful I have the dishes and all that goes with them.

When I started this post,
to avoid the dishes,
I had no intention of writing about them.
That’s how we roll around here.
Off to finish my work.

Or maybe not…

Mr D just came in.
“Would like to wash dishes for me?” I asked.
His reply,
Oh my word, I’ve been waiting to do that all year!
I need soap.
Roll up my sleeve!
Take off my shirt.
I can’t wait!
Oh my word, this is gonna be so much fun.”

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And this my friends, is why you procrastinate.

Never mind the fact that I’ll probably have to mop later.

The Cabin

I’ve been thinking about childhood memories the last month.
There is something about them that just draws you in,
makes you smile and feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Times you now treasure
that were just a common occurrence back then.

Some of the best memories I have is of times spent at the cabin.

Cabin Photo Op

Across the road and up the barn lane,
around the buildings,
down a dirt road, bouncing over the ruts.
Over the creek, up another hill,
across a field, over a hill,
and there it sat.

Nestled in the trees was the cabin
and at the bottom of the hill lay the pond.

The rough cabin was built many years ago
by my Dad and his brothers.
Just one room with bunks for sleeping
and a table beside the pop bellied stove.
Outside there was a wrap around porch,
a big fire pit and a row of swings.
We rarely spent time inside,
all the activity revolved around the outside.

Erica Tris

Summer afternoons the phone would ring,
it would be an Uncle or one of the Aunts,
“Want to go to the cabin for supper?”
And that’s all it took to create an evening party.

In my young mind it was easy.
We got a phone call,
threw some things in the back of the truck,
and away we went.
Knowing what I know now, with my Mother mind,
it was probably a lot of work,
but they made it happen.

Cabin Girls

Everyone just brought what they had.
Hotdogs, chips, cookies or cake,
and a stop at the grocery for buns.
Often they would whip up a freezer of homemade ice cream,
which was eaten year around by this gang.
For special occasions we would
grill BBQ chicken and bring the works for supper.

Uncle Ern lived next to us and he was always the first one there.
The fire was smoking by the time
Grandpa, Grandma and Sharon came.
The rest of us dribbled in as soon as
the guys were done with the chores.

Cabin Boat

Before the vehicle would stop,
barefooted kids were jumping out
and running for the pond.
Sometimes we swam,
other times we fished or just waded in the water.
If the boat was in working order,
every kid needed a ride.
A walk around the pond
sometime during the night was a must.

Cabin Sharon

The adults relaxed on their lawn chairs and swings,
catching up on news while roasting the hot dogs.

When the food was ready,
Grandpa gave a yell and we all came running.
We gathered in a circle and he began his usual prayer.
“Our kind, gracious, heavenly Father,
we thank thee for thy great love and mercy.
Thank you for this food, do bless it,
and help us to use it for thy honor and glory.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
The kids peeked at each other and grinned
because the prayer never failed to be the same.
We all knew it by heart,
usually mouthing the words along with him.


We clambered for our food around the picnic table,
talking and laughing.
Often we headed down to the water to sit on the dock
and swing our wet feet while we ate,
occasionally feeding the fish our food.

When the sun started dropping,
we meandered back to the fire
listening to adults talk and roasting marshmallows.
When the sky grew dark and mosquitoes started biting,
it was time to go home.
No one stayed late because farmers don’t sleep in.
There were turkeys, cows and fields of corn waiting in the morning.


We didn’t have a storybook life,
this was just an evening of relaxing
and enjoying the company of family after a hard day of work.
And enjoy it, we did!


Sweeter memories are not found, but that of childhood.

Life ‘Round Here

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Good Sunshiny morning from Ohio.

These mornings are just the best.
Cool, crisp, and foggy.
Coffee never tasted better
and we have nothing better to do
then sit on the porch, sip it and watch the sun rise.

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We live a life of leisure, wining and dining the days away.

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We do brunches, lunches, and coffee breaks,
sitting with friends and family.

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Throw in an elegant wedding occasionally and we are good to go!

In reality this may or may not be happening.

Trust me, back on the farm there is real life abounding.

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We get up early and read to our babies!

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We watch patiently, or not,
the entire 12 minutes it takes to bake cookies.

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We steal cookies and wear big bows brother sticks in our hair.

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We climb trees.
And then look down and wonder how we got up here.

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We stalk the neighboring Amish school,
wishing we dared to take pictures while they kids played.

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We drive jeeps. and more jeeps. too many jeeps.
We park. We have parades. We teach little sister to drive.

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We go to Mc Donald’s and play to celebrate Grandpa’s birthday.
It doesn’t matter that Grandpa lives many miles away
and wasn’t with us that day.

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We also poke our fingers into every soft tomato that we find.

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We do trips to Home Depot and drive the big bus.
What a jolly good time we (they) had.

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We leave the sour gummy worms on the table opened
and someone helps herself.

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That someone also growls at the screen when this picture comes up.
We don’t have to wonder why.

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We go church camping and take pretty pictures.

We are enjoying real life.
Next up according to Mr D.
Finding enough leaves for a pile to jump in.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“I want to be a spy.”
Sibling reply: “But you can’t. You go to church!!”