September's Sunshine

Did you happen to notice that this September's sunshine was just a little brighter than usual? I am about to tell you why. It's because my two new beautiful granddaughters were born this month! Since they are, by far, the best news of the month I can’t let the month end without announcing their arrival here, on my blog. The girls were both due September 18th, so we were eager to see when they would actually arrive. As it turned out, they were both in a bit of a hurry!

Hope Lillian Guthrie was born first, on September 2nd, weighing 7 lbs. 6 oz. Besides her mom and dad (Travis and Kristen), Hope joins her “big” sister, Selah, 14 months. Since she lives over 1,000 miles away, we have been dying to meet her; the next three weeks can’t go by fast enough. Romans 5:3-5, a favorite passage of her daddy's, was the inspiration for Hope’s first name.

For Hope

Hope, the meaning of your name
Is more than whimsy or a game;
more than childish fantasy
or wishing well frivolity.

Hope from God is better far
than pot of gold or falling star.
It’s an anchor -safe, secure-
a place to stand when life’s unsure.

Where God’s love and truth abound
A quiet confidence is found,
giving reason to expect
what nobody has seen, just yet.

Hope lifts eyes to Heaven above;
assures us of our Savior’s love;
keeps your feet from stumbling
when things around are crumbling.

On with life, a “hoper” goes;
Needs not cross fingers or toes;
waits with patience and with peace
as both hope and joy increase.

Hope won’t disappoint, you know;
your mom and dad have found it so.
Sweet child, your parents hoped for you.
God answered, and their dreams came true.

~Grandma Guthrie

Olive Joy Guthrie was born September 10th, weighing 10 lbs. 1 oz. She is Tyson’s and Sarah's first and highly anticipated child, arriving one month after their 9th anniversary! I was asked to write a prayer for one of the baby showers held before Olive’s birth. The theme of the shower was, “Wrapped in Love,” and this baby certainly was!

Prayer for the Talents, Abilities, and Spiritual Gifts of Sweet Baby Guthrie

Father, I thank you and praise you for your marvelous works in weaving the intricacies of my new little granddaughter inside Sarah’s womb. I can’t wait to see what talents, abilities and spiritual gifts you have chosen for her. Will she inherit her mother’s artistic flair, or her father’s songwriting talent? Or will she be endowed with abilities exclusively her own?
I only ask that each attribute be used for Your honor and glory. May we celebrate her as a unique, marvelous being. Please give each of us the grace and the wisdom to accept her just as You have designed her, and in doing so, may we light the path that leads her to You, Lord. For even more than my arms ache to hold her, I yearn for the day when she lays each attribute at Your feet, recognizing You as her Savior and King. Thank You, dear Father! Through this precious creation, Tyson and Sarah and each of us who have earnestly prayed for this child are once again in awe of Your grace, faithfulness and love toward us. Praise Your holy name! Amen
~Grandma Guthrie

Olives are symbolic of many things in the Bible: peace, prayer, promises, and anointing. Tyson and Sarah chose the name "Olive" because of the peace God gave them throughout their difficult journey to parenthood.






Welcome, precious girls! Grandma Guthrie loves you already, and I look forward to many days of dollies, tea parties, dress up...and sunshine –especially when all five girl cousins (now age two and under) get together! Noah, you have no idea what family gatherings will be like for you in the future!

When She Sees Me Face to Face

I can’t help it. I am in awe of the technology that is available these days, even to regular folks like me. I would never have guessed, for example, that I would be able to have semi-regular Sunday evening visits with my darling baby granddaughter who lives a thousand miles away.
















I’m speaking of SKYPE, or course, a modern marvel in communications. Not only can I hear sweet Selah coo and squeal during these hour-long sessions, but I can see her, too. I watch her jump in her Jenny Jump-Up,















watch her eat baby food,















see how she wiggles and squirms in her daddy’s arms.















I’ve seen her new teeth as they come in, and I’m told that I will be able to watch her crawl during our next visit.

















The photos I am sharing here are of Selah, in Texas, taken with my computer’s camera from my living room in Iowa. Isn't that amazing? I often remark that she seems to be looking right at me, but my son believes that she is really looking at the video of herself. (sigh) Oh well. I should be satisfied, shouldn’t I? What more could I possibly want?

Actually, I do want more. As wonderful as it is to spend such precious time with Selah (and her parents, of course) on SKYPE, it also fills me with longing. I want so badly to hold her in my arms, to kiss her chubby cheeks, and to play “This Little Piggy on her stubby little toes. I want to snuggle with her as she dozes off to sleep, and be the first to greet her when she awakes. No amount of Skype time makes up for face to face, skin to skin Grandma time.

As I’ve thought about this, I have been reminded of this verse:

“Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” I Corinthians 13:12 (NIV)

This verse describes a little of how I feel about my SKYPE sessions with Selah. It also makes me realize, however, that the same is true of my relationship with God. As great as it is to know Him, I only know Him in part for now. Someday, however, I will know God fully. As my creator, not bound by the laws of the physical world, God already knows me fully, so the revelation will be solely mine. What a mysterious, marvelous truth! What a day to anticipate!

Lord willing, I will get to see Selah in person next month. I am so looking forward to that day! We will cuddle and sing, play, read books, and go for walks for an entire week. Maybe she will begin to know and recognize her grandma, and just maybe she will actually remember me when she sees me on SKYPE once again after we all return home. Well, I can hope, anyway.

Grandma loves you, Selah!

Little Hands

I should be wiping the handprints from my glass coffee table, but somehow I can’t bring myself to do it quite yet. Just yesterday the house was filled with laughter and delighted squeals. We read stories and danced on the rainbows –the three of us, now that Noah’s sister, Claire, is old enough to join in. Today it is quiet. Only the handprints and a few scattered toys remain.



















Despite smudges left in conspicuous places, I love those four little hands. I love how they squish my cheeks into silly faces that make us all giggle. I love the wild applause that follows each recitation, each song, each tottering block tower.

I love how Claire pats my back while I pat hers as she rests her head on my shoulder; how her hands work to scoop three cheerios into a spoon;



















how she uses two hands to hold a cookie.


I love the melodies Noah's hands tap out on the piano;
how he tirelessly writes numbers on his magna-doodle;
























how he turns book pages oh, so carefully.


I love their brother, sister pact,
cemented when the two of them hold hands...



















...how they wistfully reach for my hand,
leading me to the next discovery or adventure.





















Trust, encouragement, praise, hope, love:
How can such little hands hold the biggest of things?























And how is it that in their gentle touch
I sense the awesome power of Almighty God?


















Today I am participating in Walk With Him Wednesday. Today's topic was Experiencing God: How have you recently experienced God in your life?

Leftovers Soup

Several years ago, while visiting my grandmother who was ninety at the time, I came across an interesting concoction in her freezer. Earlier that morning I had poured myself a bowl of translucent Rice Krispies. I don’t eat Rice Krispies often, but I was pretty sure they should at least have a golden tinge to them, so I checked the expiration date on the box. Grandma’s Rice Krispies were five years old!

I decided that Grandma’s kitchen may be harboring some other not so timeless treasures, so I began going through cupboards, drawers, and finally the refrigerator and freezer, purging and refreshing as I went. I was pretty sure the layered concoction I found in her freezer was scraps she intended to throw away, and I announced my intentions to follow through. By this time Grandma was getting a little edgy about me poking around. “That’s not garbage, it’s Leftovers Soup,” she snapped. “ I think we’ll have it for lunch.”

Despite its appearance, Grandma’s “Leftovers Soup” was delicious! It actually amounted to a combination of Grandma’s leftovers from her past several weeks of meals. She had merely collected leftovers until her freezer container filled up (hence the layered effect). A full container indicated that it was time to cook and eat the soup, and with the next meal, a brand new batch of Leftovers Soup would be started. Brilliant!

A year ago today I started my blog, “Dancin’ On Rainbows.” I had two thoughts in mind when I started it. First, I like to write, and writing is more fun if someone reads what you write. Secondly, nearly all my writing friends have blogs, so I thought it must be the thing for a writer to do. I honestly had no clear goals or preconceived notions of grandeur in mind. That is probably a good thing, because a year later I am not disappointed. Like Grandma’s soup, I added a little bit of this and little bit of that, and it turned out to be more enjoyable than I could have guessed.

My blogging philosophy isn’t something I worked out in advance, either. It has evolved over time, which also reminds me of Grandma’s Leftovers Soup. Each ingredient adds its own distinct flavor, but in the end, it all blends together into one non-reproducible masterpiece.

Here are some of my key ingredients:

• I take each day, week, month as it comes. If I am inspired to write or share something, I do it. If not, the world continues to spin, and my blog soup is simply frozen in time until the next addition.

• Variety is truly the spice of blogging. In the course of one year I have: made tributes to loved ones, mourned the loss of friends, revealed my silly side, recorded my travels to Africa, and shared deep spiritual thoughts. In so doing, I have given my readers and even myself a pretty good slice of my everyday life. I remember thinking as I ate Grandma’s soup that it was like sampling all the meals from which her leftovers came. Looking back over my blog posts, I feel much the same way.

• No recipe exists for Leftovers Soup; no two batches will ever be alike. Similarly, my blog posts are original. Several years ago, when forwarded e-mails began frequenting my inbox, this thought occurred to me: If I’m going to share something with people I care about, I want it to be my own original words and ideas rather than something that is canned.

• I’ve discovered that those who regularly read my blog aren’t necessarily those I care the most about -my family, that is! It’s not surprising -they would probably turn up their noses at Leftovers Soup, too.

• I am thrilled that ANYBODY takes the time to read my blog -EVER! I’ve become very fond of my followers and all of my new blogging friends.

• Comments are the toasted croutons on top! They make the whole thing worthwhile.

• Grandma was selective as to which leftovers were saved for soup. In the same way, all of my ingredients are run through the sieve of Philippians 4:8: “Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things.”

• Just as leftovers such as pizza and applesauce would not be suitable ingredients for soup, so I have determined that anger and cynicism have no place in my blog. “Righteous anger,” which seems to be very much in vogue lately, is in my opinion overrated, and often “tastes” too much like sour grapes.

Grandma said that eating her Leftovers Soup always made her aware of how richly God had provided for her. As I look back over my blog posts from 2009, I, too, am reminded of how gracious and plentiful God’s blessings have been. His mercies are new every morning; how great His faithfulness is to me! (Lamentations 3:22-23)

As a way of welcoming 2010 and celebrating one year of blogging, I have given my blog a facelift! I am also excited to host my first ever give-away. The winner will receive two books! All you have to do to enter is leave a crouton (a comment) on this post. The winner will be chosen by random drawing, so any comment will qualify as an entry, but I would be especially blessed if you would tell me one thing about yourself that I don’t know (perhaps your favorite kind of soup), and one thing about my blog that has blessed you. Next Saturday, January 9th, I will announce the winner!

If you haven’t yet signed up to follow my blog, please take a moment to do that, too. Thanks for stopping by, and may 2010 be a year of wonder and discovery of God’s purpose in your life.

Naomi Ponders

Naomi Ponders
Based on the book of Ruth

Because of you, wee one, who coos in the crook of my withered arm; because of you I know my God remembers.

Hunger banished my family from our home. Refugees we were, beset by weariness and suppressed by loneliness in a strange, distant land. Discouragement and fear stalked us. Death overtook us. God dealt with me so bitterly I was certain I’d been forgotten. But all is well, wee one. I know my God remembers.

Because of you, precious one, who curls tiny fingers around my gnarled, arthritic one; because of you I know my God redeems.

What overwhelming loss I experienced! Your devoted grandfather and our two beloved sons were snatched from me. Who would comfort me? Who would further my family? Who even cared if I lived or died? Too old to marry, and too poor to support your mother, I begged her to leave me and return to her mother and father. She refused, fierce in her loyalty to me. Although I had nothing to offer her, she left the country of her birth. She was better to me than seven sons. Her humble, honorable actions caught your papa’s eye. Your papa, my husband’s kinsman, took pity on us. He has become our deliverer; our rescuer. I know my God redeems.

Because of you, little one, whose breath is warm and sweet against my wrinkled cheek; because of you I know my God rewards.

Hope had dispersed like chaff in the wind. Dreams had dissolved into tears. The outlook was dismal and bleak. This day, this moment, this fulfillment of hopes and dreams I dared not believe in or even wish for. But God smiled on me; smiled upon your mother; blessed His humble servants. I know my God rewards.

Because of you, cherished one, whose curious eyes quicken my aged heart and lighten my faltering steps; because of you, I know my God restores.

My home, my family, my lineage will endure. I am called blessed among Bethlehem’s women. If my sons, Mahlon and Chilion, had lived and fathered many children, none would hold as much promise as you -my delightful grandson, Obed. You are my fulfillment, my future, my renewer of hopes and dreams. My nights are restful, my days filled with purpose, because of you. I know my God restores.


Karlene Jacobsen is the new hostess of Friday Fiction at Homespun Expressions. Visit her blog for links to more great fiction.

Little Blessings

Noah and Claire have been with us for six days while their parents are chaperoning the senior trip to Florida. This is with the class of seventeen that lost one of its members, Tyler, in a tragic car accident in February. We have been praying for a time of spiritual growth, unity and healing among these students. (see the blog post A Legacy of Life and Love)

We have had great weather all week in Iowa, while the travelers have had nothing but rain in Florida. We have also had a wonderful time with our grandchildren. Claire turned one in April and Noah turned four last Friday. Life has been very different at our house, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything! They are both the littlest and the biggest blessings in my life right now. So the things I am thankful for this week are:


Peanut butter and jelly

Big, slobbery, open-mouthed baby kisses

Papa, who is adored by both and always willing to play or lend a helping hand

Giggles, love pats, and peek-a-boo

The heart of a child revealed through night-time prayers –such simplicity and faith!




Visit Sonya at Truth for the Journey for links to more lists of thankfulness.

It Could Be a Stretch

Since Sunday is Mother's Day, I thought I would share a Grandma story written from a child's POV. Please admire my prized stepping stone presented to me last Mother's Day. Noah was about to turn three, and Claire was just three weeks old. Such a tiny footprint!



It Could Be a Stretch
by Sharlyn Guthrie

My Grandma’s hammock fits me just right. When Grandma climbs in and lets me push, the hammock fits her bigger, rounder body just right, too. Once, when Grandma was in the hammock, Grandpa crawled in beside her. They were so smushed together they couldn’t stop giggling. I thought the hammock would burst, but it stretched to fit around them both.

“Grandma” is a stretchy word. In fact, I think it’s a lot like a hammock. It doesn’t matter who climbs in, it stretches to fit. Some words aren’t very stretchy. If a bunch of people drew pictures of an apple or a baseball bat, their pictures would all look alike, but if they drew grandmas, their pictures would be very different.

Grandmas come in all shapes and sizes. They can be tall or short, thin or plump. Many grandmas play sports, ride bikes, or exercise, but some need a cane or walker just to cross the room. My great grandma shakes her cane at me when she means business. Some grandmas wear glasses, and some don’t. Their hair can be long or short and can come in any color, with or without some gray hair mixed in.

Most grandmas enjoy taking their grandchildren for walks. They are good at noticing things like ant hills, robin’s nests, and cats curled up in window sills. But grandmas might also drive you in their van, sports car, pick-up, or tractor. They sometimes ride motorcycles, horses, carousels, and roller coasters.

You never know where a grandma might pop up. She could be your teacher, your waitress, your doctor, your school bus driver, or your mail carrier. Some of your neighbors are probably grandmas, too. I’m pretty sure every grandma knows how to bake cookies, but I could be wrong about that.

Grandmas know all about little kids, because they had kids once. Just don’t expect them to know your favorite cartoon characters. They have lots of toys stashed away in boxes, but the cars look funny, and some are missing important parts like wheels. Their dolls’ pigtails have been chopped off, and they have lipstick stains on their faces. For some reason, Grandmas get teary eyed when they see you playing with those old toys. They don’t care too much if you make a mess.

If you want to hear a great story, just climb into your grandma’s lap and ask for one. My grandma’s lap is as cushiony as a pillow, but your grandma’s lap might not be so soft. Still, she probably knows “The Three Bears” and “The Three Little Pigs” by heart. She can tell you things that no one else knows about your daddy, and about all kinds of strange things she had as a little girl –like roller skates with keys, records bigger around than dinner plates, and black and white television sets without remotes. She will show you pictures of Grandpa with hair and a mustache, and your aunts and uncles in diapers.

Grandmas make pretty good teachers, too. Some grandmas can teach you how to plant flowers. Others give music lessons on the piano or violin. Some grandmas are good at using tools, and can help you learn to build or fix things. Lots of grandmas know how to sew, knit, or crochet. Maybe yours can teach you how to swim or do karate.

If you ever start thinking that your grandma doesn’t look or act much like a grandma, that’s just plain silly. God knew the kind of grandma you needed, and when she came along, He stretched the word “Grandma” to make it fit.

There’s one more thing; some grandmas don’t want to be called “grandma.” Their grandchildren call them “Nana,” “Granny,” “Babi,” or “Noni.” It doesn’t matter. Just like my grandma’s hammock, “Grandma” will fit them, too, if they ever change their mind –and grandmas often do.


For links to more great fiction hop on over to Julie's blog at The Surrendered Scribe.

Guthrie Under Construction

We learned over Christmas of another Guthrie currently under construction. Lord willing, this new little wonder will make its appearance in Austin, Texas in July. How delightful it was to observe firsthand the joyful anticipation shared by the prospective parents, Travis and Kristen! They spent six days with us, mostly holed up inside against the inclement Midwest weather. You’d think we’d be smart enough to go to Texas in December, rather than make them come here, but we weren't, so our most exciting venture was a trip to the mall to make some gift exchanges. I think the caricature artist we happened across at the mall did a fabulous job of capturing Travis and Kristen's enthusiasm. Don’t you?

Continuing on with the theme of grandchildren, it seemed appropriate to make this child the subject of my third blog. If you aren’t a grandparent yet, it’s possible you are yawning and preparing to click away to another blog and a more stimulating topic. (Don’t worry, after this I’m out of grandchildren for the time being, so I’ll move on to other things. I promise!)

If you’ve been blessed with grandchildren of your own, however, you are most likely remembering another announcement, another child, the incredible feeling of love that surprised and engulfed you. For the next six and a half long months my arms will be aching to hold this much loved and desired grandchild.

Since I need to occupy the time, I'm following charts on the baby's development. Already, the tiny heart is beating and the entire body plan is laid out. Fingers and toes are separated and the brain is developing; and yet, this tiny creature is only the size of a lemon. As the knitting together in the womb continues, I can’t help but ponder what physical features will be predominant (red hair and freckles or beautiful brunette curls?), what personality traits will charm us (If the baby is half as stubborn as Daddy Travis, we’ll feel avenged!), what gifts and abilities will be granted (pianist or engineer?). We Iowans are fairly certain the child won’t talk right, since Mama Kristen is a true blue Texan!

Please, don’t anyone try to tell me that this life that has begun is only a lump of tissue. Lumps of tissue don't have brains, heartbeats, and functioning fingers and toes. This is a little person, my grandchild…fearfully and wonderfully made in God’s image by a Creator who knows the beginning and the end of all things, who attends to the smallest of details, and who gives good and perfect gifts in His time and according to His good pleasure.

Thank you, God, for the opportunity to witness this miracle. And please take care of the precious new life that is under construction.

Claire Bear

She’s only eight months old. Still, I hear her chanting, “equal time, Grandma, equal time!” Not really, although she’s already trying to keep up with her brother Noah in so many other ways.

Claire Carleta Guthrie created quite a stir when she came into this family of boys last April. The males in the family, including her dad, still don’t quite know what to make of her. She’s dainty and delicate, but she’s also strong and opinionated. Her voice is soft, yet commanding. At eight months she already pulls herself up onto her sturdy little legs and walks confidently behind the new dolly and stroller she got for Christmas.

Tristan, her daddy, has composed a little song for her. If you happen to be holding her when he begins to sing, you’d better hold on tight. She will squirm, snap her little head around, and do everything in her power to make eye contact with him. The song goes like this, “Claire bear. Cla-ire Bear. Most beautiful girl in the world. Claire bear. Cla-ire bear. I…love…you!”

About the time he sings, “most beautiful girl,” Claire breaks into a dazzling smile. By the time he gets to “I…love…you,” she is kicking, wriggling, and giggling all over. It never fails to work, even if she was previously fussing.

I think Claire is very blessed to have a daddy that so freely and unashamedly expresses his love for her. Certainly, not every little girl does, and Claire has never known it any other way.

I’m also reminded of the many ways my Heavenly Father attempts to catch my attention, reassuring me of His love throughout each and every day. Do I respond as eagerly as Claire responds to her daddy? Do I immediately seek His face and light up in His presence? I’m afraid that all too often I take His gestures of love…a beautiful sunrise, the smell of coffee, fresh air and unhampered breaths, the music of the birds…for granted.

Father, “Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you.” (Psalm 143:8) NIV