-
Totally Random
There is no rhyme or reason to my days this week as we work up to our big move this weekend. So here’s a bit of my mind recently…
1. Why is it that every time I make a Genius playlist on iTunes, the Mmm Bop song from Hansen is on it? Why do I even own the Mmm Bop song from Hansen? Oh well, it’s great to dance to.
2. My kids are amazing travelers. I must brag. Saturday we left at 8:00 in the morning for our trip home from St. Louis, Louis. 16 hours later we were home (we stopped to say good-bye to Aunt Chloe, and we got caught in some major thunderstorms in the dark in the WVA mountains). Y’all, NOT. ONE. FIGHT. (And no, we didn’t let them watch 16 hours worth of movies.)
3. Playing superheroes in the car with my children will never get old. Our van? Rocket Flash. Uncle Alan? Cap’n Awesome. Bear? Mini Awesome. Bella? Mrs. Croc. Me? Dixie Cup. Daddy? The Hibernator (he was sleeping). Hours of imagination!
4. I am in love with sweet Emma Grace. So are my children. And I am longing for the every day kindred spirit of my dear Bethy. Distance is so hard.
5. The pile of boxes continues to grow, and along with it grows my stress level. Not to mention a glitch with the title to the house. A lost Social Security card. And more chances to trust that God has my days portioned out perfectly for me.
6. I am appalled and a bit mortified at just how much dirt is behind, under and inside my house and appliances. My OCD is going into overdrive. And my fatigue and pain are overwhelming. Am running on adrenaline now and waiting for the crash.
7. Baby Stellan is still in dire need of prayer. I cannot even begin to imagine. So I don’t. I just pray.
8. I am in love with the stages that my children are in right now. Ash is really starting to grasp jokes and teases me back. I love that little eye roll he gives when I am joking with him. The sound of his laughter is music.
9. I sat with B this week and cried (surprise, surprise). My Bear starts Kindergarten in 4 weeks. Of all my children, he is the one I just don’t want to grow up. He lives in such a fun world. I’m struggling with his world changing.
10. My Bella with her daddy at The Magic House in St. Louis. She didn’t find it very magical.
11. The joy of the Lord is my strength. Every day, I am choosing joy. And I am finding strength. Soli Deo Gloria.
-
In The Midst of My Happy… There is Sad
I have been following MckMama’s blog for over a year now, and her little boy is not doing well. You can read all about it here, and you can check her Twitter updates here, where she updates frequently on what is happening.
I can’t even begin to imagine. As I hold my little Bella close and enjoy a happy day with her, I am overwhelmed by the sadness they must be experiencing. Will you pray with me for MckMama’s sweet Stellan?
-
Oh, Just A Little Conversation…
…with my Bella this morning.
I was sorting laundry when I heard her sweet voice call down from the loft.
“Mommy? Are you finishing your work?”
“Almost, love. What are you doing?”
“I’m happy,” a pause, then, “Are you happy in your work, Mommy?”
I hadn’t really thought about that today. I wasn’t unhappy. I was just kind of in “work mode”, but then I thought about how thankful I was that I was able to do laundry, that I had a washing machine, that I had clothes to wash and a roof over my head, that I had a little girl and two little boys and a wonderful husband to love and care for.
“Yes, baby. I’m happy in my work.”
She laughed and ran down the steps. When she arrived at the washing machine and me, she clapped her hands, “Oh, Momma! Let’s just be happy today!”
I couldn’t help but laugh along with her, “Sounds like a plan. What makes you happy, chickadee-dee-dee?”
She sat on the floor, “Well, I love you and I love God and we’re a happy family.”
I have nothing to add.
-
The Nature of My Insanity
B and I close on a house in two weeks. A house close by with a lot of land and more room for the children and for entertaining. More on that to come, I’m sure.
Honestly, I am completely enjoying the packing process, finding treasures that we have stored in closets that I forgot we had. I am also seeing how beautiful it is to live simply. How little we truly need in order to be happy.
But in the process, my organized and clutter abhorring nature is going partially insane.
See why?Yes, I know y’all are saying, well, no wonder she’s going insane. Look at that hideous couch! But trust me, my decor does not revolve around 80’s plaid sofas. My slip cover is packed.
Adding to the insanity, is this.
Yes, I took a break from packing boxes to pack suitcases. St. Louis, here we come!So, once again, I will be blissfully and deliciously MIA!
-
Pieces and Shards
“What do I get for this? I said & the angel gave me a catalog filled with toasters & clock radios & a basketball signed by Michael Jordan & I said, But this is just stuff & the angel smiled at me & swallowed me in her arms. I’m so glad you said that, she whispered to me. I knew you still had a chance.” (~from Story People by Brian Andreas)
I would have thought I’d have gotten upset. Angry even.
A plate, all red and blue and paisley. Just purchased a couple months ago. I was so excited to buy those new plates, to find something Italian and beautiful for my kitchen.
But there it lay. One plate. In 4 pieces surrounded by tiny jagged shards. The boys sat in the living room, bowed heads. Brian stood between them.
I had heard a ruckus while I was tucking Bella in bed for nap. I knew the boys were fighting. They were supposed to be emptying the dishwasher, earning some money to buy more Lego sets.
Now I stood, waiting. Hearing Bri’s voice, but the words not registering. Suddenly, Bear ran to me, eyes spilling over, voice shaking and breaking, “I’m so sorry, Mommy. I’m sorry I broke your plate.” His arms went around my neck and his little body shuddered. I held him for a long time, saying nothing.
I didn’t know anything about the argument (although I later learned the plate breaking wasn’t actually caused by the argument). I didn’t know how Brian broke it up. I didn’t know what words were spoken. Until that moment, I didn’t know who had dropped it. And the sinking feeling in my stomach when I saw the broken plate was no match for the ache when I saw my Bear’s face.
“It’s okay, Bear. It’s only a plate.” We spent the next little while rocking, talking, snuggling.
Yes, it’s only a plate. It’s only stuff.
Stuff breaks. Stuff chips. Stuff fades. Stuff wears.
So do people.
And later that night, I sat in Bri’s arms and cried. Cried over the agony on Bear’s face. Cried over the pain that life will bring him. Cried over his tender spirit that moved, unprompted, to ask for forgiveness. Cried because I couldn’t put the plate back together and make it all okay for him. Cried because some days I can’t bear to watch them grow and learn and mess up and hurt. Cried over a little boy and a broken plate.
I will to do everything I can to keep my Bear from turning into broken pieces surrounded by jagged shards of life.
That plate is nothing.
He is everything.
-
Grateful Eyes: Spring Thankfulness
It has been far too long since I have continued my quest for living with grateful eyes… I have neglected posting my lists for The Gratitude Community, but I haven’t neglected writing them in my journals, finding that even in darkness, a grateful heart brings light. Here are my thoughts from Spring days. Summer’s list is quickly filling!
Scare games with the boys (I’m up, 7 scares to 5).
Laughing so hard you fall down
Watching Bella nurture her babies
Falling asleep to the sound of rain on the roof, thankful I have a roof over my head
Watching grass turn greener and greener
Playing Mario Kart with Bear
Learning the language of grace.
Bella’s eyebrows. That girl is so expressive!
Potty training in 3 days. Yes. She made it so easy.
Spring flowers.
Water games in the backyard.
Story-telling. They love the stories of our lives even more than story books.
2 months with no doctors!
Making pretend snow angels on the kitchen floor.
Bear’s giggle. It’s totally contagious.
Flashlight tag and flashlight microphones.
Back roads in the BMW with the sunroof open and kids squealing in delight.
Yard sales. Little boys who want to sell their toys to raise money for a gift to send to Mario (our Compassion child).
Ash’s “All About Me” report from school. His favorite class? Everything. His favorite food? Everything.
Face-painting.
Opening curtains and greeting the world each morning. (We sing Good Morning from “Singin’ In The Rain.)
Imaginary friends. “Leenie” sleeps on the floor next to Bella and talks to her and gets her in trouble.
Dancing in the kitchen. It never gets old.
iTunes Genius. An amazing work of art.
Curling up with a good book while the children rest.
Playing board games on a rainy afternoon. Ash ALWAYS wins.
Purses, shoes and lip gloss.
Lunches with my dear friend and former discipler (she’s an Angie, too!).
Brian’s job. He has one. No matter how busy he might be, I will be thankful.
Hearing God’s whispers in the mist of chaos.
-
The Biggest Belly Laugh Yet
Driving home from a trip to Kline’s (only the best ice cream in the Valley), the children were asking about houses and the difference between brick an siding. Bri pointed out a white sided house up ahead.
“Do you see that house, guys?”
“Oh, yes!” Bear chirps from the back of the van, and then in all seriousness asks, “Is it made of straw?”
~~~~~
Recently we got a new dishwasher. Our old one just up and went kaput. The day it was installed, the children plied me with questions about how it worked, how to run it, why it was white, how to lock and unlock it, etc.
As serious as he could be, my Bear said to me, “Mom! If a robber got into our house, it would be good that the dishwasher is locked because he might not know how to unlock it and then he couldn’t steal anything from it.”
Well now, I hadn’t thought of that.
But, oh, it gets better.
His eyes widened, and his dimples deepened as he grinned mischievously, “AND, if he DID get the dishwasher open, we could sneak up behind him and push him inside, shut the door and lock him in. And THAT,” he clapped his hands, “is how we’d catch the robber.”
Yep. He’s a sharp one, my Bear.
~~~~~
A few weeks ago, Bear learned to ride his bike without the training wheels. Before we go on, I must mention that his older brother told him he had to wait until he was six to learn because that’s when HE learned to do it. Bear was pleasantly surprised to discover he could learn whenever he wanted to. He giggled his high-pitched giggle, and ran to jump on his little red bike. It took a bit, but he got the hang of it. Riding on our driveway was still too much, but he could hold his balance in the grass and go, go, go.
That night, Ash and Junior, the boy next door, were racing their bikes up and down our joint driveway. Bear decided to get in on the action, but couldn’t go nearly as fast as the other boys. Watching them, instead of where he was going, Bear took a tumble. Bri got to him as he got up, and was Bear mad! He stomped his foot, his teary face grimacing in anger. He slammed his fist into his palm, crying.
Bri held him and told him, “If you don’t watch where you’re going you’re going to crash. That’s why you need to watch where you’re going.”
Bear stomped his foot again, “But it’s all THEIR fault,” he said.
Bri shook his head. “They didn’t make you fall, Bear. You fell because you were watching them.”
“I knooooow.” he wailed, still angry, “It’s still their fault. They are just. so. AWESOME. I have to watch them. They’re just. so. COOL, Daddy, they made me fall off. I can’t stop watching them.”
There’s a lesson in there somewhere, I’m sure. But I’m too busy laughing to figure out what it is.
-
Quirks
There are things about my B that drive me absolutely crazy. I get frustrated. Sometimes I get downright mad. And this morning we had an argument over the most inane thing. Because, well, I’m a woman and he’s a man and we think differently.
There are things that we laugh about now:
–the way he is obsessed with (brace yourselves ladies) putting the lid down every time the toilet is flushed (we made a deal when we got married that I would put the lid down if he would pull the shower curtain the whole way across after a shower rather than leave it open.)
–the way our towels are hung in the bathroom… no, it’s not about the neatness. It’s about remembering whose is whose. He decided mine is the one on the right, because, as he put it, “You’re always right.”There are so many things…
But they are the quirks of marriage. Or the quirks of my husband. Or the quirks of me.
Or the sins of my husband. Or the sins of me.
But they don’t need to be aired. No one needs to know the bad things about my husband. He doesn’t sit around with his guy friends and say, “Let me tell you about my wife’s sins.” or “My wife made me so mad the other day.” So why do we women think that’s something we have a right to do?
I see it so often (and am guilty of it, too). Women who roll their eyes and complain about the things their husband does or doesn’t do. Women who use public podiums to make fun of their husband. Women who shake their heads and say, “Just like a man.”
Elisabeth Elliot writes about this in her book, Let Me Be A Woman (a book which I highly recommend):
Anything he does which seems to her inexplicable or indefensible she dismisses with “Just like a man!” as though this were a condemnation or at best an excuse instead of a very good reason for thanking God. It is a man she married, after all, and she is lucky if he acts like a man.
I’m not saying we can’t have a few close friends that we work through our struggles with. We need people we can go to and say, “Help me work through this.” But that’s it… a few. close. friends. And it should be in a way that honors our husband.
That’s my role.
To honor my B.
That’s why this blog won’t ever air the frustrations, the quirks, the sins, the fights.
And besides, the amazingness of my B far outweighs the quirks and sins that frustrate me.
He. is. awesome.
Appraisal
Never think she loves him wholly
Never believe her love is blind
All his faults are locked securely
In a closet of her mind;
All his indecisions folded
Like old flags that time has faded,
Limp and streaked with rain,
And his cautiousness like garments
Frayed and thin, with many a stain–
Let them be, oh let them be,
There is treasure to outweigh them,
His proud will that sharply stirred,
Climbs as surely as the tide.
Senses strained too taut to sleep,
Gentleness to beast and bird,
Humor flickering hushed and wide,
As the moon on moving water,
And a tenderness too deep
To be gathered in a word.~Sarah Teasdale
-
Just. Being. Scared.
I hear it. The thumping of little feet up the stairs in the wee hours of the morning. In the soft light filtering through our window, I see her, red curls, tousled. More often than not, her thumb is still in her mouth, and she is by my side, patting my arm. “I was scared of nothing,” she says. (That’s her way of saying she woke up afraid, but she didn’t know why.) She just. felt. scared.
I pull her into our bed and she snuggles and falls back to sleep, sighing. Some nights we take her back to her room, others she stays safely in between us. More often than not she will wake again and she will cry out. A nightmare. She has them almost every night.
Last night while my B was away, she came up earlier than normal and crawled into bed with me. She fell asleep, and I stayed awake in my vigil over her while I was waiting for Bri who was just leaving work to drive home two hours in those wee hours of the morning. The whimpers overtook her sleeping mind, and she awoke, reaching for me, screaming hysterically. “Mommy! Mommy!”
“I’m here,” she was in my arms immediately.
“There’s a shark in the bed!” she continued to scream, kicking the covers frantically.
“No, no, honey,” I soothed. “There is no shark.”
She looked at me, her eyes clearing, and desperation crossed her features. “But I SAW it. He was in my bed and coming to eat me.”
She doesn’t understand what a dream is. Her nightmares are reality to her. I pulled her closer in my arms and rocked her, smoothing back those unruly curls, explaining that it was all okay, that there really was no shark. Within moments she was asleep again. Safe. Content.
Every night it’s something different, but it’s the same. Spiders crawling all over her bed. Snakes in the bed. A mean rabbit. Her imagination is fierce… in a good way and a bad way. She finds out the bad way every night. I marvel at her mind. What must go through it?
I thought about her fears as I watched her sleep soundly in my arms. And I thought about my fears. There are so many…
Fear of failure as a mom, wife, daughter, friend.
Fear of my thyroid cancer treatment not working and more surgery.
Fear of breast cancer recurrence.
Fear of losing Brian or one of my children.
Fear of losing a parent or an in-law or a grandparent.
Fear of not being understood.
Fear of expectations. My own and others’.
Fear of the future.
Fear of not being loved.
Fear of rejection because I am needy and unable to reach out to others like I long to.
Fear that all this time all that I believe isn’t real.
Fear…I could go on. The list is huge. The fears are real.
My Audrey? Her fears are real, too, even if the things that scare her aren’t. And often her fears translate into daily living. She’s terrified of an ant crawling across the sidewalk. She loves animals, but if they move near her, she will scream and cling. I often sigh and want to convince her there’s nothing to be afraid of, but I refuse to tell her not to be afraid. What I tell her is what to do with those fears. I open my arms to her.
And she comes. She finds comfort. She prays with me. And she is safe. Content. At least for the moment. But it will happen again, and each time my arms will open.
And my fears? Some of them may seem irrational to others, too. But they are real. They are huge. They leave me some days sobbing hysterically at the feet of Jesus. He doesn’t just sigh and tell me not to be afraid. He opens His arms.
And I come. I find comfort. I pray.
And I am safe.
Content.
At least for today.
It will happen again. And each time…
His arms will open.
-
Wednesday Worship: Praise the Lord
God is our protector. God is strong. God doesn’t die. God saves us.
These wonderful truths lisped from the mouths of our boys as we prayed before bed. I listened to them pray and thank God for Who He is. How beautiful it is to hear praise from the lips of children. I watched them pray… Ash kneeling next to his daddy, newly intent on having a respectful posture before God. Bear lying next to me hands folded under his chin.
Then Ash said, “Oh I forgot one. Thank You that You are not fake.”
There is nothing more that I can add. Only praise Him as my children have taught me to once again. With simplicity and honesty.
I have been listening to the pre-release songs from Glory Revealed II: The Word Of God in Worship this week, and cannot help but sing this song, Praise The Lord, over and over. There is never a moment when He is not worthy of praise!
(To listen, head on over to Glory Reaveled and click on “listen here”.)
Song: Praise The Lord
Artist: Natalie Grant & Laura Story
Album: Glory Revealed II: The Word of God in WorshipPraise the Lord oh my soul
I will praise the lord as long as I live
I will sing praises to my God
Even with my dying breathHe is the One Who made heaven and earth
The sea and everything in it
He is the one who keeps every promise forever
He gives justice to the oppressed
And sets the prisoner freePraise the Lord oh my soul
I will praise the lord as long as I live
I will sing praises to my God
Even with my dying breathHe is the One who feeds the hungry
And opens the eyes of the blind
He lifts up the burdens of those who leave heavy loads
The strangers he protects
And the righteous one he lovesPraise the Lord oh my soul
I will praise the lord as long as I live
I will sing praises to my God
Even with my dying breathThe Lord will reign forever
Our God is King to all generations
The Lord will reign forever
Our God
The Lord will reign forever
Our God is King to all generations
The Lord will reign forever
Our God.We will praise the Lord, oh my soul
We will praise the Lord as long as we live
We will sing praises to our God
Even with our dying breath.
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
A Spring of Joy 