I understood totally why they called it "the empty nest" once our children left home.

All I had to show for their journey through our lives were stretch marks and a vacant house.

Clothes, shoes, stereo equipment, TVs, beds, dressers, sofas, pianos ...I have to say here I was thankful and, yes, downright proud that we still had drywall in place when our children left. I was beginning to understand that whole locust thing in the Bible.

One would think I had depleted all my knowledge, emotions and energies upon our two children during their eighteen-year sleep over, but amazingly enough a spark of life remained. Endless evenings while my principal husband worked late at school, I paced the floors of our three-bedroom ranch, thinking there had to be life after kids. It's not as though I hadn't seen this coming. I mean, the food pantry was still full two weeks after the last kid vamoosed!

The first autumn season of our empty nest, my husband and I began a weekly three-mile trek down the gravel roads of Amish country. One night I decided to put our walk on paper and sent it into a magazine which was later published.

I never dreamed that God would take our empty nest, a peaceful walk, and a computer to create a new life and ministry for me.

But He did.

My once empty house is now cluttered with papers and books. Our cupboards that once bulged with chips and cupcakes, now hold fat-free chips (can we say cardboard?) and low carb sweets.

I wish the kids would come back.

Still, knowing this is the way of life, I've learned to adjust. I started this writing adventure seven years ago, and I can honestly say this new season of my life has helped me through the crisis of the empty nest.

Now if only I could stay focused when our granddaughters call my name...