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To my husband of 34 years, Mike Noller, I can’t imagine living life without you by my side as my partner through everything, every obstacle and opportunity that comes our way.

Thank you for always insisting on our time.

Even when my heart was consumed with our babies and I ached leaving them, you reminded me we love them best by loving each other better.

Thank you for encouraging me to take a honeymoon at least once a year, so we could remember who we are together even after we became many and life became more harried.

Thank you for telling me that we were raising adults not children, because as much as my mother’s heart wanted them to stay little forever, that wasn’t possible, and I needed to prepare myself for letting go. It’s painful, this letting go of control, real or imaginary, but I’m so thankful we never let go of each other.

You are the best man I know.

That’s saying a lot because as you know my dad was pretty amazing.

You are my favorite person and I’m glad we’re still holding hands across the table at our favorite restaurants and as we walk along beaches.

Thank you for not only saying that you’ll love me till the day you die, but living it as we go through death and rebirth in our lives over and over again in so many ways.

Thank you for learning how to love with me. Sometimes we fall short, but we keep striving, we keep working on ourselves individually, so our relationship continues to grow.

Thank you for loving your mom so beautifully. There’s an old saying that you can tell how a man is going to treat his wife by how he treats his mom. I am in good hands.

I love you, I love being with you, I love living with you. Thank you for growing with me through our lifetime together, always committed to learning and striving to do what’s right and good. We don’t always get it right but we forgive ourselves and each other, and I celebrate us. Happy belated anniversary! Cheers my love!

The Story of Us

I had a rare moment just sitting by our Christmas tree and really looking at it in all of its glory. What makes it so beautiful? The multi-colored lights are pretty and add an other-worldly glow to the room and the gold beads are lovely, but it’s the collection of ornaments that have my attention.

There’s our bride and groom purchased in Eureka Springs, Arkansas in 1988, a blown-glass baby for our firstborn from the same Eureka Springs shop in 1991, more “baby’s 1st Christmas” ornaments as our family grew, the Old Faithful Inn in Yellowstone, the Eiffel Tower, an RV, Yosemite memento, and every hand made ornament the boys gave us through the years. Eevie’s ornament hangs high and reminds me of the tears and tiniest bit of hope that she would just make it through her first Christmas, and now she’s five and going strong! Our grandsons , Theo and James, are now represented on our tree.

I’m truly overwhelmed at our story hanging on these branches. 30 years of marriage, 35 years of love are shown here in every decoration. People we love, places we’ve been, milestones we’ve reached, experiences we’ve enjoyed…the story of us…told on our Christmas tree.

Merry Christmas to all!

Stop Talking and Start Communicating!

I have not blogged in a week because I’ve been getting through my summer checklist!
1. Have my coffee and end tables refurbished
2. Paint the laundry room
3. Get rid of old couches and bring up the barely used downstairs couches to the hearth room
4. Begin Tristan’s scrapbook for graduation
5. Write 3 songs for my 2nd graders
6. Declutter!!!!
All of these things have been on my checklist since March, but somehow, I failed to mention the biggies to Mike. Apparently this can be a disturbing experience, coming home to no furniture or a painted room without warning😬.

I definitely had some apologizing to do. It absolutely blew my mind I hadn’t told him about the furniture or the painting. This made me realize, while I think of myself as a great communicator, I’m not. Talking excessively isn’t the same as communicating! I will talk your ear off about books I’m reading, thoughts on life, my grandson Theo, etc. but when I have tasks on my mind they stay there. I don’t even realize I haven’t shared them because my mind is extremely loud and busy and I always feel like I’m talking to about ten people at once in my head. Funny thing is the real ten people can’t hear me because they aren’t gifted with telepathy!

This is probably a common issue with extroverts. We tend to take for granted our gift of gab and think any communication issues couldn’t possibly be our fault. “Introverts are the ones never sharing,” yet in reality we need to ask ourselves, “Am I listening?” Sometimes Mike will talk to me about something important to him and he’ll just stop to see if I’m listening. I’ve become a better listener as I’ve recognized I need to be attentive to others. I am now understanding there is room for improvement in my communication as well.

Basically, I need to get out of my head and make sure I’m discussing my brilliant improvements to our house or plans for the summer with my best friend and partner who deserves at the very least to be informed and actually should have an equal say in such matters!

“My Beauty”

As I was growing up, I never questioned whether or not my parents loved each other. They spent a lot of time together, taking romantic trips, teaching Quo Vadis, and heading up marriage seminars. I also remember them laughing, a lot. In fact, we all did. Dad’s interpretation of intimacy was laughter. Pretty sure his philosophy can be summed up like this, “If everyone’s laughing, everyone’s getting along and happy.”

He had the habit of diffusing anger and disagreements by cracking jokes and giggling until we finally joined in. While this made life fun and kept us from fighting, I’ve since realized he was avoiding conflict at all costs which in turn means avoiding truth. Conflict is needed for resolution. Meaningful relationships must have conflict in order to grow.

Not only did my dad avoid discourse, but also expressions of love. He would smile and say “I love you” in a goofy voice, and he would give an uncomfortably stiff side-hug if forced to hug someone. He would joke about mom’s beauty and if he would compliment her there would always be a “but if you’d do this it would be better…” attached (Higher heels, more lipstick, etc). He liked pretending that mom was the lucky one, but we all knew he really was. Expressing raw feelings was not something he learned in his family, so he relied on his sense of humor. 

Since Dad’s diagnosis of Alzheimer’s we’ve seen his outward mask stripped away and he now freely expresses how he feels. When my mom enters his room he says, “My beauty!” no matter what she’s wearing or how she looks. He tells his caregiver, “Lorna is my sweetheart. I love her so much!” No more jokes. Just pure love. He often tells Mom he wants to marry her and she answers with a joke. She says, “Sorry but I’m already happily married….to you!”

For Those Who Have Ears to Hear

In 1999 I recorded my 2nd music album, and it was my first of original music. I had an incredibly talented producer who has (not surprisingly) had great success through the years. The instrumentalists featured were amazing, and every song turned out exactly the way I envisioned. Unfortunately no one ever heard it. As soon as the album was finished, I quit. The album was shelved, never to be shared.

Expressing myself through song was one of the most vulnerable experiences imaginable. Those of you who have been reading my blog know how painfully honest I am. My songwriting has the same quality. My late 20’s were some of my darkest years emotionally. Our marriage was strained, I didn’t know myself (I hadn’t been to therapy), and I wasn’t aware of my mood disorder. I actually hadn’t even heard of cyclothymia. At that time, I equated my talent with emotional darkness and danger. I was afraid of the Pandora’s box of creative expression I had opened inside of me, so I decided to firmly shut the lid and lock it away. I didn’t understand myself and was afraid of the tempest that stirred within. I had seen other artists’ families split apart and that scared me. It seemed like I had to choose my family over my talent, and maybe at that time in my life, that’s exactly what I needed to do.

When I walked away from music, I left a huge part of myself behind. It left a gaping hole in my heart that ached with failure and regret, but I couldn’t face it. I had sung my first solo at church when I was three years old and had always dreamed of a career in music. It was the only vocation I had ever pursued. Here I was, 31, abandoning that dream as I completely lost the joy of singing and songwriting. It would be five years before I sang in public again. I was terrified of opening that part of myself again, and it took a few years of singing and songwriting before I realized my talent wasn’t dangerous. Through therapy I began to understand and accept myself at a deeper level, and to let go of the fear. I was in a much better state of mind, had greater awareness and a much happier and healthier marriage, and I now realized my greatest weakness could be my greatest strength. For many years I still was unable to listen to my 1999 album without feeling the darkness I had felt during that time…until recently.

About a year ago I revisited it and felt none of the sadness. The songs actually minister to me now, in a different way than when I wrote them 20 years ago. As I near my 50th birthday in April, I want to share them with whoever has ears to listen. I’ve already been more vulnerable in this blog than any song I’ve ever written, so there’s no more fear. You already know I’m far from perfect, and I have no desire to manipulate your perception of me. My last post was Heaven’s Tears which is number seven on the album, so I’m going to feature each of the remaining songs in my posts and will upload them to Soundcloud for those who have ears to hear. Again, the link to Heaven’s Tears is https://m.soundcloud.com/kim-noller/heavens-tearshttps://m.soundcloud.com/kim-noller/heavens-tears

Time Flies

It’s been a busy couple of weeks with Christmas, New Year’s, birthday parties, and out of town guests. We finally took our Christmas tree down yesterday, January 9th…and it was a real Fraser Fir that felt like a Scotch Pine when we dragged it out of the house. Ouch!

Our grandson Theo turned 1 on January 3rd and we joyously celebrated! What an amazing year we’ve had with our first grandchild. I remember Mike and I when we were young, dreaming of starting a family…and now we’re grandparents! No wonder there are so many cliches about time! “Time flies when you’re having fun,” “Time waits for no man,” “Time is a river flowing by” “Time slips through your fingers like sand”…the list goes on and on. It’s true, the longer you live the faster it goes, days turn into years and years into decades like a train gaining speed down a hill. It reminds me of John Mayer’s song, “Stop This Train.”

No, I’m not color blind
I know the world is black and white
Try to keep an open mind
but I just can’t sleep on this tonight

Stop this train
I wanna get off and go home again
I can’t take the speed it’s moving in
I know I can’t
But, honestly, won’t someone stop this train?

Don’t know how else to say it,
Don’t want to see my parents go
One generation’s length away
From fighting life out on my own

Stop this train
I wanna get off and go home again
I can’t take the speed it’s moving in
I know I can’t
but, honestly, won’t someone stop this train?

So scared of getting older
I’m only good at being young
So I play the numbers game to find a way to say that life has just begun
Had a talk with my old man
Said, “Help me understand.”
He said, “Turn 68,
you’ll renegotiate
Don’t stop this train
Don’t for a minute change the place you’re in
Don’t think I couldn’t ever understand
I tried my hand
John, honestly, we’ll never stop this train.”

Once in a while when it’s good
It’ll feel like it should
And they’re all still around
And you’re still safe and sound
And you don’t miss a thing
‘Til you cry when you’re driving away in the dark.

Singing, “Stop this train
I wanna get off and go home again
I can’t take this speed it’s moving in
I know I can’t
‘Cause now I see I’ll never stop this train.”

(think I got ’em now)

Most of the time I don’t want to stop it, I just want to slow it down, but the best I can do is be present in each moment and appreciate the time…the moments I’m given. I wouldn’t trade any of them, for they each have had a part in shaping who I am today. I’m grateful for this life with all of its heartache and joy, and I love sharing it with so many amazing people. “Don’t Stop this train,” because I don’t for a minute want to change the place I’m in.

Grandmama and Granddaddy Smith Pt 1

I’ve deliberately waited to feature my mom’s parents until December because most of my memories with them are around Christmastime. Even during one particularly difficult time in our family’s life one February, Granddaddy (Frellsen) cheerfully encouraged us with the words, “Before you know it it’ll be Christmas.”

Frellsen Fletcher Smith was born on January 27, 1908 to Dr. Charles and Clara Fletcher Smith. His father was a doctor who had a heart attack in his early 40’s and was told to “get his affairs in order.” He begged God for more time and promised he would dedicate that time to preaching the gospel. He lived for 20 more years as a traveling evangelist and Frellsen witnessed first-hand the transformation of his father. This impacted him so profoundly that he made a personal decision for Christ and never looked back. In his late teen years he began to play the organ at his father’s revivals.

Myrtle Carver was born on August 7, 1908 to Martha “Patsy” Morrison Carver and George Robert Carver. She was the fifth of thirteen children. Myrtle was a well behaved intelligent child, so much so that her father mortgaged the farm in order to send her to Louisiana Tech in 1926.

Frellsen and Myrtle met when they were 14 at a revival that Charles held in Myrtle’s hometown of Simpson, Louisiana. An elder in Myrtle’s church told her to keep her eye on that fine young man (Frellsen) and she bluntly responded, “That ugly old thing??”

When the time came for Myrtle to attend Louisiana Tech in Ruston, Patsy arranged for her to live with the upstanding Smith family. Myrtle always said she first fell in love with Frellsen when he was playing the piano. They dated all through college, Frellsen’s two years at University of Texas for his master’s, and a year continuing his education at Harvard.

In 1934 when they were 26, Myrtle made an ultimatum while Frellsen was at Harvard. “You come back now and marry me or we’re through!” He returned and they drove to the minister’s house and asked his wife to be the witness as the minister married them. The ceremony was performed as they were sitting in their car. Through the years, Grandmama (Myrtle) always reminded us, “It’s the marriage that counts, not the wedding.”

Quo Vadis

Dad started a Sunday school class in the mid 70’s at 1st Church of God (Central Community Church) on S Market Street in Wichita, KS and called it Quo Vadis, which is Latin for “Where are you going?”

The premise was a fun, relaxed environment with donuts and coffee, jokes, relatable topics on love, marriage, sex, raising kids, and putting God first in your life. He used excerpts from sitcoms such as All in the Family, the Jeffersons, and the Carol Burnett Show that were related to whatever he was discussing that week. The class began with about 25 people, and quickly grew to 200. Eventually he started having annual marriage seminars with other speakers including my mom, Bruce Pearson, my Gramps, my Uncle Stan, and guest speakers. Each year it grew, and Dad starting advertising free chicken dinners and having swim parties at our house after big seminar days. Attendance eventually surpassed 1500, and he was featured on the local news and in the paper multiple times.

Once when I was 16 and Mike was 18, dad wanted to show us a section of his talk during the marriage seminar. He popped in the VHS tape and fast forwarded hitting play too early, and we caught him grinning on screen as he was saying, “whipped cream and chocolate sauce can be fun!”
Dad said, “Whoops! Wrong part!” And abruptly pressed the ff button. After our marriage in ’88 we finally got to attend the entire seminar which included the whipped cream lecture.

Dad and mom eventually wrote a book together called Marriage Can Be Fun and it was featured on Gerald Mann’s national broadcast several times. They toured a few cities doing interviews and even visited us in Nashville in ’98 for a tv/radio spot.

Through the years, I’ve had many people tell me that they were in Quo Vadis for a time and were profoundly impacted by my parents’ instruction and example (me too!). I think dad’s candid way of teaching in a church setting was refreshingly honest if not shocking at times. He was interested in getting to the truth of things and not superficiality or what might be deemed appropriate. He also absolutely loved breaking social rules here and there…he never liked taboos and enjoyed testing boundaries, even if it meant embarrassing my mom or us kids a few times!

Precious Gifts

In honor of my oldest son and his wife on their second anniversary.

You were the first to call me mom. I remember praying next to your crib for you and for your future wife. Sometimes I would rock you to sleep and pray softly in your ear, “Lord thank you for this precious gift. Please watch over him, protect him, and above all else, guide him to You throughout his life. I pray for his future wife, please watch over her, protect her and above all else, guide her to You throughout her life.”

You grew to be of elementary school age, played basketball and baseball, met your best friend for life, had crushes on girls, and I continued to pray the same simple prayer with one small addition. “Lord thank you for this precious gift. Please watch over him, protect him, help him make good choices, and above all else, guide him to You throughout his life. I pray for his future wife, please watch over her, protect her, help her make good choices, and above all else, guide her to You throughout her life.”

Middle school passed so quickly it felt like a blur, I prayed A LOT…and suddenly you were in high school. A beautiful young 15 year old girl with long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes began making frequent visits to our house on her golf cart. When I asked you what you liked the most about her you said the usual things a boy says about a girl he loves, and then you added, “I love her family!” I kept praying my prayer, and sometime during those high school years added a name, “Lord thank you for this precious gift. Please watch over him, protect him, help him make good choices, and above all else, guide him to You throughout his life. I pray for Samantha, please watch over her, protect her, help her make good choices, and above all else, guide her to You throughout her life.”

You dated each other for eight years and married two years ago today. It was such a special day for both of our families! Somehow time keeps moving quickly and last January 3rd, your love brought your own precious gift into the world. My prayer is still the same, just adding another name. “Lord thank you for Dillon, Sam, and Theo. Please watch over them, protect them, help them make good choices, and above all else, guide them to You throughout their lives.”

As you both continue to seek God’s love and wisdom to be your foundation, you will only grow closer in your marriage and as a family. Happy 2nd anniversary Dillon and Sam! We love you!❤️

This Man

29 years of marriage today, and 34 years together.❤️

I know this man.
I know his strengths of faithfulness, integrity, patience, self control, humility, compassion and love…pure, unfailing love.

I know this man.
I know his weaknesses of poor self-esteem, perfectionism and lack of punctuality. I know his wounds and scars that could have hardened him but because of his decisions to learn from them have kept him open and vulnerable.

I know this man.
I know his allergies, his cholesterol levels, his height and weight, his favorite foods of crockpot roast beef and mashed potatoes, his favorite dessert of chocolate soufflé, and drinks of fresca and cranapple, tumbleweeds, Michelob ultra, and aged scotch on the rocks.

I know this man.
His love of travel and exploration, his desire to learn and grow, emotionally, spiritually and mentally.
I know his love of his family and his fear of losing any of us.
I know of his faith in Someone more powerful than any fear.
I know he puts his trust in that Someone every single day and He has never failed him, which has deepened that faith through the years.

I know this man.
I know this man’s smile, his kindness and tenderness that radiates through his soft hazel brown eyes, and his quirky sense of humor that sends me into goofy endless giggling.

I know this man.
Who said he would always love me and support me and still does, after 29 years of marriage, after knowing all of MY strengths, weaknesses, likes, dislikes, quirks and vulnerabilities.

He is a man of his word.
I know….
I cherish….
I love this man with everything that is within me.

Thank you my tender, loving God for Michael Keenan. Happy Anniversary my love….my forever love. I’m so lucky!!!❤️