HAPPY BIRTHDAY FAITH!!!

My Dear, Sweet Little Lollipop,

Everybody always says they can't think of just one favorite thing they like most about someone they love so much. There are just too many good things to pick from. But I can.

It's your laugh. You have absolutely the purest, most genuine laugh that I've ever heard! It is at once robust and girly, sincere and infectious and I have NEVER ONCE been able to keep from smiling when I hear it! Not even on my darkest days.

You are a joy from top to bottom! A "favorite" just means that it is the best of many good attributes - and you are full of them!

I know it might not be your favorite thing, but I LOVE the way your freckles dot only one side of your face! It reminds me so much of your life. From one angle you look so grown up, and it reminds me of how gracefully you are maturing into a classy young lady. But on the freckled side, I still get to enjoy you as the carefree little girl deserving of all life's innocence for just a bit longer.

And I love those ADORABLE round little buns in a bathing suit! I'm sorry, but I do! You CRACK ME UP when you do "squeezy cheeks," when you lock those knees together and scrunch your buns up, walking in little baby steps like a Chinese woman while speaking hilarious stories in that IMPECCABLE British accent! Oh, my, word - how you can make me laugh! You are SO FUNNY!

And smart. I've been blown away by all you've learned this year Biblically. You have such great questions and you never settle for the simple explanation. You want to know WHY you should believe what you are told and I LOVE THAT! Your teachers are equally as blown away with the depth of spiritual understanding you can garner and even explain to others from your Bible lessons. God has given you tremendous insight in this area, and I am so proud of you for using it for humble purposes and honest living.

This year, you have also practiced courage in a way that has made me so proud of you! You had a rough year last year, but you have never used that as an excuse. I have heard that the definition of courage is not the lack of fear. But that it is fearing the unknown and facing it anyway. You have been the absolute embodiment of courage by that definition and I couldn't be prouder! God richly rewarded you for it this year, too.

I guess every Mom wants to be the one to give her daughter the present that her daughter likes better than all the rest for her birthday. But this year, you got one even greater than the one that Daddy and I have picked out for you. God gave you Jenny. I LOVE to watch the two of you riding your bikes down the street together, giggling about secrets that only the two of you know. I love watching your matching pigtails bob up and down as you pedal, shadowing the tassels hanging from your handle bars. Your fair hair and skin color and her dark hair and complexion, often in matching outfits. God has given you the joy of a best friend. Jenny was the answer to some of my most earnest prayers for you.

My prayers for you are many and they always will be. I want you to be happy and grounded and for the deep love that we have for you to always be apparent to you! I want the world to be kind to you. You are such a vital part of it. The world is such a sunny place in the spot where you stand. You are amazing to me in every way! So humble and forgiving and sharing and kind. So encouraging and funny and smart. Like I always say, you are SWEET ON A STICK - forever our LOLLIPOP!

HAPPY 8TH BIRTHDAY SWEET GIRL!

WE LOVE YOU WITH ALL OF OUR HEARTS!

A Little Late, But Quite Sincere

A week ago Sunday was Grandparents' Day, but I missed it because I had it written down as this past Sunday. Then I missed it again because I've been sick. So my great parents and my lovely Grandmother never heard from me. My MIL and I had dinner for other reasons altogether, but I never mentioned it because I am, obviously, losing brain cells by the bunches. But we love them all four, dearly, and my hubby's handsome Grand dad, because they are quite simply some of the best human beings for us to have the privilege of sharing a legacy with, for a whole host of reasons:

For being willing to explain the details of a sport, even right in the middle of The Big Play.

For hosting "just because" parties for the grandchildren including real invitations by snail mail for them to receive.

For purposely being too slow to beat the train across the tracks, even though it makes you late to an appointment.

For hours on a ladder painting clouds upon their ceilings.

For learning new talents and skills and computer programs with them around, so they know that they're never too old to learn and grow. Or never too young to be a help. :0)

For spending time picking vegetables in the garden - or fishing or riding four wheelers or running errands, visiting family, shooting guns or making crafts - instead of always huddling in front of the television.

For having patience while they were still learning that "sharing" referred to bicycles and toys, but not to toothbrushes and drinks.

For biting your tongue while we as parents were learning the difference between defiant disobedience and simple childhood foolishness, and for when we mistook the latter for the former.

For telling them stories of their parents as kids and for making us sound like heroes.

For deferring to our preferences as their parents and letting us raise them our way. For respecting our choices on drinking and movies and world news and dress and Santa Clause.

For so many of our ways being the very way we were raised because they work and they are right.

For not allowing any disrespect with the excuse that they are "just kids."

For being equally interested in ALL their activities, as diverse and silly and new as they sometimes are.

For holiday traditions they look forward to for weeks.

For telling them "You can do it!" when you're not completely convinced yourself.

For remembering the time I crawled into bed with one of them after a particularly bad nightmare, but not the time I punished one of them for stalling bedtime, when they really had a case of pin worms. And for assuring me that even the cleanest home wouldn't have prevented them from getting it.

For pancake breakfasts and fun discussions about what they'll be when they grow up.

For reminders that they have many years until they HAVE TO grow up.

For sharing with them the "Good Ole' Days" without making their own days sound bad or scary by comparison.

For praying for our efforts in raising them!

For making a trip to your home seem inviting and familiar and adventurous and new - all at once.

For saving the housework until we leave.

For hanging their artwork on YOUR refrigerators.

For referring to your grandchild in heaven by name.

For admitting to feeding them ice cream every night before bed and setting that precedent for honesty. It was the more important lesson. :0)

For not buying them EVERY thing they want, just because you can.

For telling them "you look JUST LIKE your mommy at that age," and meaning it as a compliment.

For watching the same rated "G" show for the tenth time when you would really like to see "48 Hour Mysteries."

For trying to still lift and hold and swing them, even though it hurts a little more now that they're bigger.

For treating the boys like boys and the girls like girls - guilt and PC free!

For making the drive to see us more than we do to see you. It hasn't gone unnoticed - or unappreciated!

For being at so many Birthday parties, even though they are too busy with their friends to pay much attention. They cherish you there in the photos!

For being "Grandma" or "Grandpa" to their friends and cousins who don't see theirs'.

For letting them call home at midnight if they want to.

For meaning NO when you say "No." And for not saying it very often.

For imposing a bed time, but not necessarily a sleep time. For extra kisses and tickles and "boog-a-doo, boog-a-doos."

For introducing them to your own circles of wise and weird and accomplished and quirky friends.

For reminding them in speech and in deed that virtue and character and church and friendship and hard work and forgiveness and God ARE IMPORTANT!

For making God bigger than the four walls of our own home.

For being such top-notch examples of integrity and love. They only have 5 grandparents. But you all are enough to show them all they need to see.

Tenderness And Deep Deep Love

The only way to sufficiently explain the way my daughter has touched my heart tonight is to admit that I lost it. I mean I totally, utterly and completely lost it this morning when she threw her temper tantrum. It's not what I said to her that I regret. That was pretty much what it needed to be. But I yelled it in such anger that it escaped my throat almost as a growl - a loud, angry, overbearing growl. And it devastated me for much of the day as I worried about how devastating it must have been to her. In getting through the proper spoken message, I really screwed up the subconscious one, and it hurt.

Then just now, I went in to crawl into bed and found four beautifully sprawling sunflowers and a note: "I love you Mommy."

She certainly is not perfect, but she has the forgiveness thing down pat.
And I would die for her.

Pink Glittered Lint

Reason #437

why I love the darling little girl I get to call DAUGHTER

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Glitter in the pink lint after doing a load of her laundry.

I once heard a prominent Christian women's speaker suggest using daily chores as a reminder to pray for certain people or situations in our households. Like praying for the owner of the clothing you are washing, drying or folding. I love this kind of advice - practical and applicable. I am a logical deduction kind of gal and I appreciate such direct advice. Still, parables are important too, sometimes, to understand the context of Divine ideas. So I thought about that lint. How it could easily represent the sin that we all have in our lives. It must be trapped and removed in order to make our apparel the best we can put on. How it hinders the laundering process if not removed. But looking at the lint, it is also indicative of the owner of the laundry it comes from. My husband's lint is almost always a light or reddish color. He works outside and wears light-colored clothing in order to tolerate the heat. The red comes from the Oklahoma dirt. My son's lint is almost always full of small scraps of paper that I somehow missed cleaning out of one of his pockets. He is a list maker deluxe, much like his Momma. Mine is always colorful. I love a different feel to my outfit each day. Fashion is fun for me. And my daughter's lint - it almost always contains pink and glitter.

So even our struggles and particular temptations make us unique. I don't love my daughter because she has lint (or sin), but I don't NOT love her for it either. Yes, I have to stop and pick the lint out of the filter each time I do the wash. It is an extra step and a little bit more work. But I have been given this awesome privilege to be the one to teach her to eliminate more lint from her life. But if I didn't get to be the one to do it, if life were "easier" and the lint removal was left to another, I would also miss the unique personality, the glitter and sparkle, that's peeks through the dust of the lint.

I guess the glitter would be love, since God is Love, and He is the Light - the sparkle. So I thought about my lint, that sin that God removes as He passes me through the wash of the blood of Jesus. It reminded me how much He loves me. That like I do with my daughter, He must pick the lint out of my life, but stop to smile at the glitter. He clothes me in it, just as hubby and I clothe our daughter in her glittery garb. So I guess my prayer would be that I would continually choose the sparkly bright outfit that glitters of LOVE, so that there is always sparkle in my lint. My lesson from the laundry today reminds me to love my family as they are. Help them, pray for them, and give thanks for the note-filled, red-dirt-stained, and pink glittered lint.

A BLESSING EVEN BIGGER

There is not another person on earth who has probably even noticed. It seems like such an insignificant thing, but to me it represents the quiet smile of God reminding me of His presence after such a long and trying past month. August 5th is on a Sunday, our Lord's Day. And it will be the three month anniversary of my daughter's salvation. I just think it is a special small fact that God ordained before time to have that milestone occur on a Sunday, where I will have time to focus so fully on what a blessing her conversion has been.

I used to say that the single most important event in my life was coming to know Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. I don't say it because it's the "right" thing to say or because it's the "Christian" thing to believe. I say it because it's true. Without that day, January 2, 1994, there would have been no wedding day, no births of my children, no certain unique experiences God has allowed us to have. At least not ones covered in the knowledge of his Mercy. I KNOW that my life would have taken an altogether different direction - because so VERY many of the choices I have made since that day have not been my choices at all, but His. Choices I didn't understand or necessarily even trust at the time that I made them. But I trusted Him, so I followed and was blessed beyond anything I could have imagined. I was also tried more than I ever expected. But I have ALWAYS been about doing my best, even as a lost heathen muddling through this old world, and I believe that the greater callings require greater sacrifice. (Thank you, God, for our voluntary military! They are my heroes. Please keep them safe.)

But three months ago, in the dark of midnight with quiet tears of joy dotting my cheeks, all I could think was "THIS beats even my own salvation. THIS is the GREATEST blessing I will ever be handed." Watching these A-M-A-Z-I-N-G, emerging young sinful saints covered in grace ETERNALLY! And knowing that my God, the Almighty Alpha and Omega, is developing in them a unique plan that no one else on this Earth can fulfill. And that He's actually allowing me to have an unearned, undeserved part in it all! I lay there most of that night considering my family's past, how NONE of us had any sort of a testimony at all and really NO KNOWLEDGE of who Jesus Christ was. I had heard His name, but never in conjunction with the word Savior. I knew there was Him and Moses and Jonah and Jonah had an ark, whatever that was. But I couldn't have told you what else any of them were known for or who was the more important of the three.

But as I prayed that night I thought about the story I'd read several times by now about Moses. How he'd offered to take the punishment of death and hell for the sins of his people the Israelites if God would just forgive them once again. (Exo. 32:32) I'd always wondered how any human gets that kind of a love, that would give up his own salvation for the redemption of another. I believe Moses knew and believed that God would not take his salvation away because I believe he knew that it was not based upon his own actions in the first place. But he was willing. And now I understand that urgency, because it's how I feel about my own children. They are God's, but they are a heritage from the Lord. (Psa. 127:3) Not just a gift, but a HERITAGE. A glimpse into all the wonder of God's parental side. Children, I believe, teach us as much about the love of God for us than anything else ever could. And they teach us how to love more like Christ just in their existing. How could Moses and how can I love that much? The answer is the same as it is for EVERYTHING.

J E S U S

On the day that my daughter gave her life away to God on Cinco de Mayo of this year, God answered MANY prayers. First and foremost, He answered her prayer to come into her heart and cleanse her of her sins and teach her to walk in His ways. But he also answered prayers I have uttered since before even becoming pregnant. My best friend miscarried her first baby just weeks after I miscarried our second. She said to me, as she tried to find comfort, "I prayed to God that he would never let us have a child that wouldn't decide to one day become a Christian. Maybe even this is an answer to my prayers." As sad as that sounds, I think every loving Christian mother understands her thinking. Having my children come to know TRUE salvation apart from religion has been the one prayer I have asked for them since before they were knit together in my womb.

My older son made his commitment to Christ the Friday before Thanksgiving of 2004. It was equally as exciting for days and months like with my daughter. But he has always been a naturally compliant kid. Of course, one sin makes us fall short of the glory of God. His salvation was every bit as necessary as with my daughter! It meant every bit as much. But my daughter is the one I worried more about needing Divine guidance through her life with her choices. She just has more of a personality that wants to jump in and try new things and think through the consequences later. Or she did. God has done a MIGHTY work in this sweet girl. She is so thoughtful in her actions, so measured now in her decisions. She was the first to go to her room and pray for her parents when she saw that we were struggling to maintain a rational level to our "discussion" the other day. She radiates her Lord! She is still ornery and funny and still loves a good time. And she is still ornery. And ornery. But she puts Jesus first. If it will not bring honor to Him, she more often no longer finds an action worth it. She bears fruit. She is a new creature, created in Christ Jesus. And I will be eternally grateful to my Savior for getting to be there when the cocoon, the shroud of sin, broke, and that exquisite new creation emerged. She still sins. She still gets into trouble and irritates her brothers less frequently, but she now CARES. She is repentant, rather than so disturbingly delighted at her fleshly actions.

Our family, the one I am in and the one I am from has a legacy now of being ones who want to follow Jesus. Ones who are known for reading their Bibles and going to church and trying their best to respond to things according to Scripture. Sometimes we follow Jesus on our hands and knees begging. Sometimes we follow Him after getting lost at the detours. So often we get distracted, take our eyes off Him and tend to forget where we are going. But He doesn't. He's promised to seal us unto the day of redemption. (Eph. 4:30; II Tim. 1:12) We're sometimes lost on the trail, but He isn't. He promised to get us home safely. I trust Him to be able to do that despite how I walk. I am crippled and lame and clueless so often and my stride in the race looks more like a drunk on a storm-tossed ship than a graceful sprint. At times, so will my sons'. So will my daughter's. But I won't leave them alone on the side of the road just because they stumble. In fact, that just makes me as a parent want to help them all the more. They may eventually sometime look like a heap of useless clay laying alongside the road, but that's my heritage there in that heap. I want to wait and be patient and help them to their feet those times more than any other. That's my parental side. That's what it means to be CREATED IN HIS IMAGE. I am like that because He is like that and I was made to be like Him. He is the Light. That bright beacon guiding us Home. And I am just ecstatic that my older children's eyes have been opened to see that Light. No longer must they rely solely on a stronger but stumbling runner to pull them along. Now they have that brighter beacon than myself to guide them along as well. And that is most surely my most favorite blessing.

Field of Dreams....But Not The Sleeping Kind

Pics to follow - I used a disposable and need to have it developed.

Have you ever waited for YEARS to finally get to do something you have been looking forward to with unrestrainable anticipation? Most of us might think of graduating college or having a baby or meeting a family member. For my fifth grade son, it wasn't something quite so weighty, but he had been looking forward to last night since he first joined Cub Scouts in kindergarten! Our city's Triple A baseball team hosts the Cubscouts one night each summer for a sleepover in their outfield. Every year, my son has wanted very badly to attend and every year our answer has been the same. "When you are a Webelo, we'll go." Last year, my son became a Webelo, but we were smack in the middle of moving and could not logistically work it out. He had a very fun alternative, though.

So I was sweating it last week, realizing there had been so much rain and flooding. This was my son's last year to be able to attend, and I was praying hard. It turns out the smart folks down at the ball field have been not only covering the infield during the rains, but last week they began covering the outfield as well. My son has been talking about this night since he was little bitty. He could not wait!

What delicious weather the departed rains gave us for our Big Night! Instead of our usual sweltering 100 degrees by this time of year, the high yesterday was about 78! My husband has been working extra long hours the past three days to make up work after 3 1/2 weeks off, so he wasn't too keen on attending the game with us. He loves baseball all right. What he doesn't love is my daughter not loving it so much. She is a girly girl through and through and has a tough time appreciating the point of sitting in a stadium chair for three hours "watching guys spit and swing at a ball." I really wanted my husband to go, because we were going to have to walk through some parking lots late after the game to retrieve our things for camping and there are a lot of bars in the vicinity of the ball park. So I was thrilled when my niece called my daughter to come over and play and my SIL and BIL offered to keep her until 11p last night despite their many errands.

As my husband and I set out with the boys for downtown, we realized that was probably the first time it had ever been the four us without our daughter. It felt sort of weird. As we arrived downtown, we stumbled across a parade of shiny speedboats showcasing their grit through the streets before today's big race. And Oh My Word, I could do a whole other post on the traffic and parking nightmare that ensued but the details are much to tedious and gor*y. Suffice it to say, it took us about 40 minutes, a policeman, and some illegal driving maneuvers (condoned by the policeman) to go around the block once.

It was nice to get into our favorite Mexican food restaurant and consume the most delicious fajitas anywhere in these parts! (And these parts are rather expert at fajitas in general.) It was not so nice to be hounded by the "balloon boy" as my husband so affectionately dubbed him, a forty-ish year old man who was undoubtedly just trying to make a living. But our boys are too big for balloon animals and we couldn't carry them into the stadium and besides all that he insulted me when I very politely told him "no thank you."! To the point my hubby looked at me with saucer-sized eyes right in front of him to show his surprise at the man's manners. No worry. I was here for my son's big outing and I was not going to let "balloon boy" spoil our fun!

We left the restaurant stuffed like it was our last meal on Earth and headed for the stadium. Excitement was everywhere! It's one of the things I have always adored about baseball. Besides being a brilliant game anyway (the strategy of ONE MAN against a whole team at any given moment, but part of a team of his own - brilliant - the stark difference between offense and defense), I love all of the hoopla that surrounds it. The promotions, the giveaways, the games played on top of the dugout during inning changes, the fan participation, the music, and the mascot. And what other sport lets players eat while they play? Fun I tell you! Last night was "Child Advocacy night." So the kids each scored free ball caps, rubber bracelets and t-shirt jerseys with our team's logo, plus membership into their kids' club at a seriously discounted price. The game was great! Several outstanding plays, only one questionable call, and our team won in overtime. The boys seemed to come within inches of catching a foul ball so many times! (Maybe some day.) Plus our old neighbors spotted us while they were working a booth and came over the last five innings to catch up and trade new addresses.

Now it was time for the camp out! My hubby and younger son walked us back to our car where Dalton and I loaded in and headed over to the VIP lot. We sat in the car and watched the fireworks display from the staging area. It was fun to watch the motorized "gun machine" shoot out fireworks in perfect patterns, then watch the night glow from such a close distance. Next we headed back into the stadium, sleeping bags and tent in tow. We were taken to the VIP Sponsors' balcony overlooking the first base line and treated to popcorn, lemonade and cookies the size of my face! (Those didn't look so good after such a big dinner.) Dalton and I had the lemonade and then headed for the field to be one of the first to pick our spot. We needed extra time to e*re*ct the tent since we had just purchased it that afternoon. (The 16 man we bought for our youth group retreats just didn't seem that practical.) The tent was easy until the last step when the stadium lights were shut off to start the movie. Thankfully about 5 other people had purchased the same tent on the way to the game as well, so together we all helped each other to figure it out!

As "Little Big League" began to play on the scoreboard, the boys ran around the great big outfield, living every little boy's dream! I think all girls have fant*as*ize*d at one time or another about living at the mall and every little boy wonders what it would be like to live at the ball field! How I enjoyed listening to Dalton as he detailed this wish out loud! "Our bedrooms could be in the sky boxes and we could visit a different concession for each meal and my friends could come over and play ball anytime......."

None of Dalton's Pack members showed up for this camp out this year and I was the only mother there without her husband (one of three ladies total), but Dalton didn't mope. I was SO PROUD of him for getting out there and involving himself with his new friends. They played tag amongst the tents and shone flashlights at the police chopper overhead who was saying "hello" with his own spotlight. But mostly, they just threw the ball around and envisioned it all being real. Dalton also shared his ball with several little kids who hadn't brought equipment and treated them to an impromptu training camp pitching against the padded wall. He has always loved teaching and leadership. I milled around and met some of the other parents from other towns in our metro, then fought sleep watching the movie.

Finally at about 2:40am, the movie ended and Dalton came back to the tent. We had sweet, quiet discussion about blessings and being together before he picked up his new video game to play a little. Then he asked, "Mom. I never have pulled an all nighter. Do you care if I try to stay up all night?" He's growing up so fast. I looked at the clock. It was 3:06 and wake up was scheduled for 6:30 anyway. "Naaaah. But I'm going to have to try to sleep just a little so stay in the tent, O.K?" "Yes ma'am."

I fell asleep so contented to be on this soft grass next to my first born.

This morning, we woke with the sun, minutes before the ball field started piping "Journey" over the loudspeakers. Dalton hadn't quite made it. He said he fell asleep at about 4:30, but he'd had a lot of fun. That's all I needed to hear. We disassembled our tent quickly to avoid the afore-warned 7am sprinkler setting and partook of juice and pancakes before heading home, exhausted and happy. It's 2:15 now and Dalton is still sleeping, and finally, I would imagine, dreaming dreams of the subconscious variety.

He's had the most incredible opportunities in his young years to "sleep" over in such fun places - the ball field, the Science Museum, various lakes and even his own school. I can't wait to ask him when he wakes up where this one ranks.

My Heart Is Too Full....

to adequately explain the joy I am feeling right now as I peer through the glass door into the back yard.

Thank you, God, for summer days, swimming pools, and Jenny.

Good Advice

I have always sought to follow the advice of those who have gone before me and to try my best, yet without their perspective, to take it to heart, especially to "enjoy your husband and children and don't take a single second for granted." But this particular article I found at An Ordinary Mom worded it so beautifully and so succinctly that I had to share. It was such a vivid reminder to go hug my loved ones, really hard......and right now!

“All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow but in disbelief. I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like. Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past.

“Everything in all the books I once poured over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach., T. Berry Brazelton, Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education, have all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories.

“What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught me, and the well-meaning relations –what they taught me, was that they couldn’t really teach me very much at all. Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One child is toilet trained at 3, his sibling at 2.

“When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing. Eventually you must learn to trust yourself.

“Eventually the research will follow. I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton’s wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane?
“Last year he went to China. Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.
“Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the, ‘Remember-When-Mom-Did Hall of Fame.’ The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language, mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, “What did you get wrong?”. (She insisted I include that.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald’s drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking?

“But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night.

“I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.

“Even today I’m not sure what worked and what didn’t, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I’d done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be.

“The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity. That’s what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were.”~ Anna Quindlen, Newsweek Columnist

Because He FIRST Loved Me

I received a comment yesterday from a blogger who was new to my site and I felt the need to respond. Her comment was so lovely, sweet, and encouraging and also the perfect platform to explain the AMAZING GOODNESS OF GOD to my family. The honest answer to her hint at the character of my family lies totally and completely with JESUS CHRIST!

Here is what Sunshine wrote:


Hey - I loved this post - I was reading on "Embracing my Cup" which led me to you...as I was reading on your blog I found out that Ashley is your niece. I read her blog EVERY day - this is so cool. You are just as sweet as your brother and sister in law. You must have amazing parents to be so precious and to have such a precious brother. I hope you guys have an awesome night. Sunshine

(I LOVE her name, by the way!)

First of all, I just want to tell Sunshine, thank you, for being an encourager and taking the time to say when you have admiration in your heart. So many people let those things go unsaid.

Secondly, yes, my parents are awesome! They are generous, kind-hearted people who worked hard their whole lives to give us the very best of all that they had. My dad is the same as a parent as he is with everything - fair and methodical. Growing up, he was patient with us whether tutoring us in homework every night or showing us how to woodwork in his shop. But he would also step us to discipline us when we needed it. (And just for the record, I'll say that my brother needed it more....though that may or may not actually be true. :) ) Dad has always worked hard at a sometimes stressful job so that my mother could be a stay-at-home mom. And my mom used that calling to the fullest, not content to just be a good home maker, but also a real role model. She has volunteered for both organizations and especially individuals for as long as I can remember. She has done everything from bake cupcakes for the school party to prison ministry to leading a pros*titut*e to Christ and then becoming her best friend. She is the best listener I think that God ever created and crafty and creative to boot. That is why I chose her to be the matron of honor in my wedding.

Both my parents insisted on humility from my brother and I and raised us with good morals and values...........BUT.....

We were not a Christian family.

During my time growing up in my parents home, I can only recall but a mere handful of times I attended a church, all of them different denominations and all but one because I had spent the night with a friend and gone to church with their family. Sundays to us were for mowing the lawn and watching football. And I don't really have memories of anyone in our circles of acquaintances attending church either. For me, it wasn't something I thought about. I didn't have enough knowledge of God to even know TO think about it. I had heard the term "God", sure, but the most thought I gave to Him was that of some intangible ideal. A mere word to describe who was responsible for things that couldn't easily be explained. Nothing more. I certainly never ascribed to God the idea of personhood or even personality or entity.

In college, through an INCREDIBLE set of circumstances that would take a book (but it would be an awesome read) to explain, God saw fit to make me aware of Him. For the first time in my life, I remember hearing the word "Savior" and having it explained to me. I heard about Jesus and His love for me and the way that He proved it by dying upon an old rugged cross as payment for MY sin! (And between high school and early college, there had been plenty of it, I can assure you. Let's just say, God built in me a testimony sufficient to deal with teenagers and not be surprised by a whole lot they tell me.) Then one by one, my family has come to know Him as well.

Even after salvation, I have made many mistakes. I have hurt and disappointed God and others at times. I have sometimes behaved as if there had never been a change in my heart. But those were the times that I looked away from Him and His grace. Those were the times I chose flesh and selfishness over serving Him. Or tried to "do the right thing," but in my own power and way, because I was too impatient to wait upon the Lord. If there is ANY THING good in me and my family, then God deserves 100% of the praise! And Sunshine, I do not mean to diminish your compliment one tiny bit or to make light or seem unappreciative. Quite the opposite! You encourage me when you say that you see something good in our character, because what you see is Him! Jesus! Even when I am not being so easy for Him to shine through, HE still makes the effort. HE takes all my shortcomings and turns them for good. JESUS came into this family who knew basically nothing of Him and gave us a new legacy! One that is available to WHOSOEVER WILL CALL UPON HIS NAME.

If ever there was a girl who people could point to and say "She is just not the "church" type, it was me! If ever there was somebody very distant from this knowledge, it was my family. So thank you, Sunshine. God has used you to let me explain very honestly, how it all comes back to Him. All we do is let Him, because we've all lived the other way and fallen flat on our backs. All we do is keep reaching out for Him, because we remember the times when we didn't, and we don't want to go there again. He does all the work, shines forth all the good, gives all the grace, and then, miraculously, chooses to bless us with it.

And after looking around Sunshine's blog for a little bit, it is evident she knows exactly what I am talking about!

My Name Is... IRL

I have a short list of blogs I check as often as I make it to the computer, which obviously hasn't been very often this week. (It's kinda been a crazy one...) One of my hands down very favorite blogs to visit is Big Blueberry Eyes. It's a slice of life for the Helferich's, a military family living in New Mexico and raising an adorable toddler, for whom the blog is aptly titled. Each week Michelle, the blog's author, describes her blessings for the week in a post (among others) called "Grains of Gratitude." I have often thought I would also like to contribute my post to this encouraging link list, but so far I haven't taken the time to figure it out. But this week, Michelle and her family would have made my short list, just as they do when I read blogs.

That's because I got to meet this sweet family in person! My very first IRL (In Real Life) meeting, and it was terrific. Michelle, her husband Joe and little Kayla have been enjoying a cross country three-week vacation to visit Michelle and Joe's parents and attend her sister's graduation. While reading of their adventures, I realized they would be passing back by right near where I live! So we agreed on a McDonald's that my hubby located for a meeting spot and made it a date.

My kids and I pulled into the parking lot not sure if we or they had arrived first. They had, twenty minutes before they estimated and we were ten minutes late due to a turnpike detour - they were so incredibly kind to wait on us since they had so much traveling left to do. My first hint was a gentleman smiling at us from inside the restaurant with a look of familiarity from the BBE blog photos. My kids filed out of the car and as we headed inside I saw them! The namesake for Michelle's blog. Those BIG humongous beautiful berry BLUE eyes! They shined with pure joy behind a glass pane window upon which her tiny nose was pressed. As we entered in, Kayla immediately offered the sweetest hug. She was a tiny little doll - and her eyes almost neon blue. We made introductions and ordered a snack and sat down.

The kids instantly made themselves at home with each other, even getting a bit rambunctious after being cooped up in our perspective cars. Like all toddlers often do, Kayla saw a yummy french fry and smoothly snuck it off my youngest son's wrapper. As Michelle started to apologize, I couldn't help but laugh inside thinking I knew she was about see my son for how I always describe him. But he said it too quietly for her to hear. Justice turned to me coyly with his eyes squinted and a goofy grin and whispered, "Mom, Kayla is really cute!" Then he BEGGED me not to tell Michelle, and I obliged for that afternoon, but I just had to share that with her now! He didn't mind that missing french fry one bit! :)

Joe and Michelle and Kayla were the kind of friends my husband and I would have in our every day lives. They were kind, humble and easy-going. We talked about their vacation, military life, our families, and of course, blogging. And I tried to thank them adequately enough for taking so much time out of a long day of driving just to say hello to a friend met online. They were just sweet precious people and I really enjoyed our time together. They now know our real names, just like our "real-life" friends, and that's from now on just how I'll view them. Thank you Joe, Michelle and Kayla for stopping to say "HI."

Edit To Add: I think it must be one of Kayla's life callings to give hugs. See this photo? There was tangible affection in that embrace, which she freely initiated. Pure, innocent, joyous encouragement. A little Grain of Gratitude for my week!

Our Time In Texas

Maybe it's no coincidence that my parents left the lone star state just as we were making our way in? While they went to Arkansas for the weekend, hubby and I headed to Lake Texoma for an annual client vacation sponsored by one of my husband's suppliers. Each year for a weekend they put us up in a beautiful resort, feed us all of our meals (grilled on a smoker by their own private cook) and generally spoil us rotten. And every year I return thinking that year was better than the last.

There are a variety of activities to choose from and each year we do something different. The other contractors that attend with us each year also make our time so fun and relaxing. They are all such wonderful people - about 4 to 5 couples and our host. This was the first year that it rained while we were there, but that only added to the beauty of our arrival night tradition, in my opinion. Friday night we arrive to an Angus steak dinner processed within miles of our resort, so it is the freshest, most tasty steak you will ever eat! Oh, My, Word.....It is yummy! (And I don't usually even eat beef.) With it are giant farmer's market skin-on baked potatoes and salad. Dinner is served on the company's private dock with views of million dollar boats, neon palm trees, and dark glassy water.

After everyone is feeling happy from full bellies, we load onto the boat! It's forty-something feet of something like a pontoon-yacht. The deck is full two stories above water level and we always set sail at dusk to watch the sun set. This year, of course, the skies were grey instead of a brilliant red, but I just LOVED sitting in the soft mist out there with no other boats to maneuver, watching the drops create tiny holes and ripples in the water. And the new captain this year stayed out a lot longer, so we were able to do a lot of reacquainting with the other guests while on the cruise.

Saturday, our host - one of my hubby's friends, another client, my husband and I played 18 holes of golf in the warm and breezy sunshine while the others went fishing. Now, my husband and I are not avid golfers, but we SO WOULD BE if we had the time! So holes 1-4, I considered successful if I even made contact with the ball. It was icing on the cake if I actually hit it into terrain that made the ball locate-able. :) But our host (who actually comes in a shot or two one side or the other of par) studied my form and added a tip every two holes or so for me to practice. By hole 8 or 9, I was doing decently enough to make some very long drives and stay entirely on the green. (Of course, getting tired by hole 16 and beyond, I also filled up a pond with free balls for any kid willing to fish them out and ended up playing hole 17 from the green of hole one - ha ha.) And I won't lie. We completely did revert back to teenage antics on the golf carts, racing and cutting each other off and laughing like little kids. Great times!!

Saturday night, we ventured up into "The Tower," a classy lounge featuring overstuffed leather arm chairs directed toward 270 degree views of the Christmas-lighted marina through two-story floor-to-ceiling glass windows. BEAUTIFUL!!! This is where we ladies get to shed the laid-back lake attire and dress up just a little. No certain dress required; just enjoying being a bit girly. The seating arrangement there is so intimate that our party was able to meet other people staying at the resort and we all left feeling like old friends. I absolutely love getting to know people, their stories, where they are from and what they are about. It fascinates me to learn how we all come to be who we are.

Sunday morning, after the most delectable griddle baked breakfast and fishing off the dock, we headed back home to get the kids so we could ready my son for camp early Monday morning. But the trip home wasn't without it's adventures either! About an hour into our travels, we heard a loud slapping sound coming from underneath our car. We pulled over and inspected the tires to find exactly what we had suspected from the sound. Our tire tread was peeling. We were discussing whether to use the donut spare or look for a local tire shop (on a Sunday, out in the boonies) when DH noticed the OTHER front tire had metal coming through IT'S tread! (This car has been our first big lemon in NUMEROUS ways!) We decided with only one spare, an un-even ride would not be the smartest choice. So we consulted the map, picked a back route and started ever so slowly toward the next big, small town. No where open. So we continued to the next. No tires our size in stock. And on and on it went from town to town. Finally, as we approached the metro and called five different shops, we realized our tires we not going to be available in stock anywhere, so we had to drive the last 70 miles of the trip on the back roads, with a stop sign every mile, and coming to a SLOW stop to save the tread! It. Took. Forever!

My sweet MIL brought the kids to us so we wouldn't have another hour out on the roads to go get them. As soon as we pulled in, I rushed my son up to church for his last practice (they compete at camp in areas like singing, preaching, instrumental solos, etc. and sports), where his group and their parents had waited on him for almost two hours. Sweet people! After practice, we stopped for supplies at Walmart, bought drive-through food and returned home for dinner after 10:00! I still had laundry to do for camp. So, I ended up packing until 4 am. If this post is long and rambling, well, I'm now officially way to old too pull all-nighters anymore, especially after whooping it up late all weekend!

The point of all this is, I had a great time. Even the tire fiasco - since it afforded me several more hours alone with my hubby and a whole lotta belly laughing and memories!!! That's what I've been wanting. And in His time and IN HIS OWN VERY UNIQUE WAY, God gave me that. And He kept us safe! He really is GOOD.

I have so much I want to record about our past month, but it will take several posts. I haven't forgotten about all my teases. My draft list is incredibly long right now with titles to jog my memory so I can get all caught up. My daughter, summer, our vacation property scout trip, etc. And my wrist is healing so if I don't get stupid and over use it, I'm ready to type away. I also can't wait to read what everyone has been up to. Hope you all have a great day!

P.S. Happy Birthday T. and H., daddy and daughter, 30-blah-blah and SIX years old! We miss y'all!

A Cinco De Mayo SUPER CELEBRATION!

Tonight was one of the absolute, bar-none, best nights of my life. Tonight at 10:45 p.m., my sweet, amazing, wondrous, beautiful miracle, my daughter, gave her heart to Jesus Christ! I got to be the one to pray with her. Wow! And the first thing God did afterward was to give me such an indescribable peace to trust that what she had done was real through the immediate fruit she bore. My sweet shy daughter said she CAN NOT WAIT to go forward at church tomorrow and ask to be baptized! If you knew her whole recent background, you would understand that THAT is straight from the Heavenly Father! Then as I was just praising Him for all of His goodness, He reminded me......just two weeks ago I had asked Him to at least once in my lifetime let me lead someone to Christ from start to finish. From telling them of Him for the very first time to planting the seed, to watering, to finally share in them getting saved. And I guess when I prayed that prayer, for some reason I was envisioning a stranger, someone I would meet and lead. But God gave me exceedingly abundant above all I could ask or imagine. In just two weeks, He answered my prayer through someone far more important to me - my flesh and blood. My only girl. And in this I believe He also answered for me another unspoken prayer as well. Yes, this was a fantastic Cinco De Mayo! A fiesta where even the angels were singing!!!

My Muddy Little Missionary

Last night while I was at a very important school curriculum meeting, my hubby took all three kiddos with him to check jobs. We have a construction company and it has rained so much lately that he needed to know if there was a site dry enough to go to this morning. When I returned home last night from my meeting, I found this:

And then this:

It's one of the things I love most about Faith. She is almost ALWAYS thinking of others and their needs. Especially their most important need.

Life Is Lighter

Blogging is a sort of signal of the drastic changes that are taking place in my life. That I have time to do something I really enjoy. Three years ago, I could have never guessed that the trials we were embarking on could bring so much strain. It still doesn't make sense to people when we try to explain it. "So, you lived in a home that was too small; then you moved. Who doesn't do that at some point? Sure it's stressful, but it's really no big deal." But that was just the part of our situation that was visible. There is SO MUCH MORE to the story that was mostly unknown, because the details were far too tedious and complicated to repeat more than about that first five times. And frankly, we just haven't had the time to linger on recounting the tale for either sympathy or prayers. Those who know us best just trusted that when we emphasized rather emphatically (MANY times) that we needed prayer, well then, we needed it. The rest had already forgotten that the whole cycle of stress was set in motion by the death of our brother. It really was no small thing.

But what it all boils down to is this. The past three years brought more responsibility than time to deal with it. It wasn't so much the trials themselves that were so extremely frustrating to us. It was the lack of time to DO A GOOD JOB at it. And the well-intentioned people, albeit mostly ignorant of the situation, with an abundance of advice that was some version of "you make the time for what's important." We said so many prayers - MANY - for God's clear direction on what to eliminate from our routines that wasn't exactly necessary, and many mistakes in trying to follow through. I, particularly, eliminated hobbies and fellowship entirely, assuming they must be frivolous. Big Mistake! That makes for one grouchy, estrogen- laden lady, doing that! But from that mistake I learned the value of PLAY. I eliminated home school, though I still sometimes miss it very much. But I learned that I was trusting IN the home school more than IN Him to keep my kids on the straight and narrow. I, along with my hubby, eliminated, or at least really limited, our couple time. Not a good idea either. But television watching, church obligations, and other people's expectations had already been eliminated by that point, so what to do? Well, I'll tell you. We realized that God HAD ALLOWED such a season for a purpose. He in fact HAD put more on our plates than 24 hours daily allowed time for as much as some people will argue that point with me, but I know now why He did it and what He accomplished in me because of it. I was FORCED to let things go. To realize that the world will not fall apart EVEN if we don't eat dinner one night or send someone birthday greetings a week late by phone as opposed to on time with a nice card or the kids skip school for one day because there is NO clean laundry. God let the pendulum of my Perfectionism swing SO FAR the other way and because of it, I'm so much more laid back. So much more encouraging and less demanding of people. I'm more willing to try and to fail, realizing that success is not about reaching goals only, but about the lessons learned in the PROCESS of trying something new.

Why is all of this on my mind tonight? Well, I realized after a conversation with a friend today at the kids' school that scorpion season is upon us. She relayed how she was very recently bitten and proceeded to tell me, with all sincerity, that she would take child labor over the pain of a scorpion bite ANY DAY! And I panicked, realizing our home still looks like we've lived here only a couple of weeks though we moved in July. It's a tornado zone really. Not just cluttered - but after an extremely busy week, it's not vacuumed. There are no dishes done. There are spots on the wall where someone shook up and opened a bottle of Pepsi. There are still boxes in every room and piles of laundry in most of them and dirty toilets. There's paperwork in every conceivable nook and cranny. Half of the beds have no sheets on them.....etc., etc., etc.

All the way home I thought about those scorpions. We had four in our house here last summer. And then I thought again about how busy our week has been. And about some posts I've read this week from people with devastating health issues about the brevity of life and choosing what's really important. And about how God has taught me so many of those same lessons these past 3 years, but through my very different set of circumstances. And about how that is so much of WHY my house is in the very state it is in. Because I HAVE BEEN choosing hugs over dusting and discipline over laundry and forming new friendships over doing the dishes. And then I thought about how those things WILL indeed HAVE to be done at some point. And then the scorpions again. And then I carefully weighed the pros and cons - because I will never quite entirely know how to pinpoint that fine line between striving for excellence and going over board trying to be TOO perfect. That will probably always be a struggle for me. Finally, I looked out at a perfect evening and the four people nearest and dearest to my heart. And I made a choice. I went out to watch my boys take batting practice, my daughter play with the baby next door, and my husband plant trees with such contentment on his stress-free face. And though we'll probably be having popcorn for dinner and wearing the same jeans tomorrow, I didn't regret it. Sure, I know I could be catching up right now instead of typing my blog, but as much as I thought I would remember all those magical moments from bygone years, so many of them have faded. Now I have this gift of blogging to ensure they're not again forgotten. I've no time for the guilt. I'll reserve guilt for those times that I treat people other than I ought to. Right now all I feel is gratitude. I'm so thankful for the trial that taught me to relish such moments, even though that trial is not entirely over. But even more so, I'm thankful to finally have more of those moments to stop and appreciate!

Awwww

I wasn't trying to spy, I promise. But I couldn't seem to stay off of Boomama's website yesterday, wanting to see the totals being raised for Heather to have the consultations at Mayo Clinic. And wanting to read all the comments to her and bask in the heightened knowledge of my uncountable blessings, especially my health. And there I saw almost every commenter who has ever been to my site, which granted is not a whole lot, but enough to give God a little to do a lot with. THANK YOU for being willing to step out on faith at the request of one stranger to bless another stranger. I just knew if you would go to her site, you would see why I have been so blessed by this sweet young woman. And though I know her no better than you all, I can't help but feel blessed myself by your participation. The last time I checked, the total was up to something near $9000! I'm just.....crying. I love knowing that at least some of her family's burden has been lessened and that my "friends" (because that's what your actions showed) helped! Thank you friends.

Boomama has stated that the donation button will be up for several more days if you decide that you can participate later. :0)

Treasure Hunters - Family Edition

It's hard to know where to start on this particular post. Do I begin by describing my incredible mother-in-law, who has the strength and grace to endure the death of her husband, both parents, and her oldest son with a press-on, can-do attitude while working full time, caring for two dependent sons and still being the prototypical game-playing, cookie-baking Grandma? (Did I already mention the woman is INCREDIBLE?) Or should I start with my playful, only recent, just-daydreaming-because-it's-fun sudden desire to own a lake house where we can take our children and their friends on the weekends to avoid the eventual pitfalls of heightened weekend temptations?

Maybe I'll start with Easter Sunday. It was SO RELAXING and fulfilling to go to Grandma's (my MIL) house for our traditional holiday gathering of my husband's family. This includes my husband's mother, his two unmarried brothers, his married sister and brother-in-law and their four children (three grown and a girl my daughter's age), my MIL's sister and her husband and the five of us. Plus the girlfriend, boyfriend and fiance of my nieces and nephew. Confused yet? Anyway, we love our time of getting together for holidays at Grandma's house because there are no expectations but hugs. We eat, the ladies gab or play games, the men watch sports and fall asleep on the couch, the kids play billiards and jump on the trampoline, and then we eat again. It's heavenly.

And though we all live in various directions on the outskirts of a large metropolitan area, we just don't get to see each other all at once like this very often. So we exchange more detailed accounts of life since we last saw each other and make plans for more fellowship between certain ones of us. You know, typical family stuff. Until I mentioned my lofty little wish. Someone had asked about our new neighborhood and school and how we were enjoying all the changes lately in our lives and somehow we got around to discussing the dwindling possibilities for friends for our children who actually, um, behave and encourage rather than tempt and put down. And how we absolutely cherish the good friends that they do have and wouldn't it be nice if you could just isolate them on a island for the weekend and set them free with kites and sloppy sandwiches and boogy boards and let them be kids?! And the whole thing was really just so tongue-in-cheek and light hearted and "Aw shucks.....don't you wish they could just experience 'the good ole' days?"

UNTIL.

My sweet MIL forms an invisible light bulb over her head and runs off into her office. She returns a couple of minutes later with a yellowed piece of neatly folded paper and a look of deep thought on her face. "You know. I had forgotten ALL about it, but when you guys were very, VERY little, your father purchased a piece of land on Lake U. and I know I we have the deed in there somewhere, but here is a map of where it's located. Do you think it's anywhere near the water?" She hands the paper to my husband and I and we study it with my BIL and SIL looking on behind us. We decide to go the computer and use GOOGLE Earth to try to match the lay of the land to the lot lines. Instantly, we find a matching street name. This was not expected at all since the lots located on the map were apparently the first construction in that area and ours was purchased before my husband's birth and all.

Now, let me just explain a bit here that I've been toying with this whole idea recently purely for my personal entertainment, never expecting to actually really pursue it. And I never ask for material things in prayer. There is no intention to sound pious here; I just don't need to ask for material things because God has been SO GOOD to us and I have so many more pressing matters that I fall asleep practically begging for those before I've ever had a chance to get around to thinking about that stuff. But the other night, I did feel sort of supernaturally led to just share with God my silly little wish for a private place for my family to escape whenever we wanted to enjoy ourselves without the world's influence. I never specified that I hoped we could own it. I just casually let God know it would be such a blessing to have a place to occasionally recharge from the almost daily exposure to innappropriate examples and naughty billboards.

So we match up the general location of the two lots my FIL bought 40 years ago for an astounding $250! And it's AT THE POINT OF THE ONLY ISLAND IN ONE OF THE BIGGEST LAKES IN OUR STATE ONLY 2 HOURS AWAY!!! Can you here my screaming? AHHHHH! And my amazing, sweet, intelligent, completely crazy MIL had "just forgotten all about it!" (Let me interject here that this officially constitutes a pattern. On another occasion, she was reminded her husband had purchased 10 acres in a mid-size town that turned out to have a gas station on it in a prime location. This cracks me up! I was blessed in every way for the MIL I get to have, but has she lost her fun-loving mind?! And I have always heard stories of how my FIL like to "dabble" in entrepreneurial efforts, but it seems he did all right with it after all!)

The funny thing is, I have had no problem keeping my anticipation in check. We are all planning to make a trip out there to scout out the EXACT location (we could only narrow it down to 2 rural neighborhoods) together in a couple of weeks. We also found out my FIL's brother also owns half the property, so we will invite him to go with us and hear his rightful input as well. It may turn out to be a terrible location. Forty years later, who knows what has become of the development? But just the fact that we have been given this fun little extended family adventure is thrilling! I really haven't had to force myself not to care how it actually turns out. I just love the opportunity to hunt down this fun mystery together. And if we find out we own some lake front property that's actually usable, then you can bet I'll be singing Hallelujah even underwater. At least on the weekends - when I'm not otherwise helping my husband to ransack his mother's office!

Hope Snows Eternal

Easter is in two days, the children are out of school for Good Friday, and I am all excited about preparing the suits my husband and boys will be wearing. Without even trying, we found them matching violet shirts to wear - sizes 5T, 10/12, and a 20 neck (no, not kidding; we have a great tailor.) Very spring-like.

I am spending this morning catching up on blogs, relaxing after sleeping in, before I run errands for an impromptu, outdoor, cookout-baby shower we're hosting tomorrow for a new neighbor who is due in 10 days, but knows nobody and needs to be fussed over (my opinion - not hers).

And my daughter just announced to me "It's snowing outside."

"April Fools Day is over" I told her. The kids have found great delight in dragging out that silly custom since last Sunday. Anything for the fun privilege of completely annoying one another.

But I looked. And it's true. The flakes weren't exactly big enough for the camera to catch (we tried), but it is in fact snowing here in the Midwest this Easter weekend.

And it's still beautiful. Like one last chance to see that particular miracle that we thought had passed for this year.

And so it reminds me of Easter after all. One last chance. Thank you God for those every single day of my life. And particularly right now, help me extend those repeated last chances to others. To follow your lead. To do what is right, and not what's fair. Like You did for me. Like You DO for me. Over and over and over. Thank You God for Easter and for snow and THE CROSS. Amen.

P.S. For those of you who sometimes follow the story of my niece Ashley, 20 months old and battling cancer while recuperating from a triple organ transplant in September, she is in need of urgent prayer at this time. There is the possibility of rejection, though we're praying God has other plans not revealed to us yet. You can encourage my brother's family at www.AshleysStory.org Thank you.

I Know The Plans That I Have For You

Something amazing and wonderful happened yesterday in Blogworld that was just too exciting not to share. New friends were made through this incredible set of events and God was glorified through it all. It's long and detailed but worth the read if you like to hear of yet another of God's moment to moment miracles in people's lives. How thankful I was to be a small part of this one.

Years ago, I read in a magazine somewhere that Lisa Welchel, a kid actor on Facts of Life, had quit show business to become a wife and homeschooling mother of three. At the time, I was heavily exploring homeschooling and went to her website to find out more. She kept an online journal of her family's slice-of-life activities, similar to a blog, but without the ability to comment back. Her honest portrayals of daily life kept me coming back to read weekly for years.

Then last summer, Lisa's life got crazy. She was still homeschooling, but also had added book writing and inspirational speaking to her long list of things to do. On a particular week she was too busy to be able to write her journal, she directed her readers to a guest writer, Sarah, at In The Midst Of It. Sarah's site was funny and poignant and reminded me A LOT of my own life. And it introduced me to the world of blogging I had only vaguely heard about before. Through Sarah's blog, I found my way to several other blogs, including my sweet dear friend Calissa at Renovating This Heart. Calissa and I hit it off instantly through small discussions held in her "comments" section. I was enjoying our exchanges so much, I was inspired to start my own blog. About the same time, my brother started a blog to keep family informed of the progress of my sweet little niece, Ashley, who was then waiting for a triple organ transplant in order to live.

Through Ashley's blog, I met Krista at New Beginnings. Krista was following Ashley's progress as a former patient of my chiropractor brother. She is a fairly new Christian and I just love being reminded of the excitement I should keep from those first years of knowing Him. I can't wait to meet her IRL when I visit my parents and brother and Ashley hopefully sometime pretty soon.

O.K. Now here's where it gets really cool. Through the past few months of blogging, I have "met" certain bloggers who "know" other certain bloggers that I "know", because we are, of course, visiting the same sites. So it was rather exciting a few weeks ago when Five Minutes For Mom hosted a "Blog Party" for bloggers to get to know new sites outside of the little circles they had already naturally formed. Anyone who wanted could sign up under a list on their site and likewise cruise the list for anyone whose blog name sounded particularly interesting to go pay them a visit. Some souls were even diligent enough to visit all nine hundred something sites and leave a short comment on each one. Me, not so much. I chose about 10 new ones to try and ended up keeping maybe two or three to visit regularly - namely Big Blueberry Eyes, An Ordinary Mom and Crazy Bloggin Canuck. You've got to visit these for tender observations, wisdom and laughter consecutively.

O.K. So, somewhere in all of this blog hopping around, I saw a comment under one of the blogs I decided I would NOT have time to visit again and again. The comment was astute in it's observation and the blog had a beautiful name, Blessed Assurances. And this is how her writing feels. Peaceful, inspiring and real. So we have been reading each other's little daily recountings from time to time and I don't even know her real name or age, but she's great.

Meanwhile, I went over to visit Krista's blog recently and she asked for prayer for a sweet little set of baby twins born extremely prematurely and fighting for life in the Pediatric ICU. This, of course, touched my heart with the knowledge of all my own sweet niece has been through. So I began to pray for these tiny fragile babies. Sadly, the little girl, Jayde, went to be with Jesus last week. Kanyon, her brother, is steadily improving but still much in need of continued prayer. And after not hearing an update for a while, I asked Krista about Kanyon in her comments section. She answered my question by leaving a comment back. Then I got the neatest comment of my own.

Blessed Assurances commented on my blog to ask, "Who is Krista? How do you know her?
The twins you are talking about are my cousin's children!" Wow!!! Krista, Blessed Assurances, and I - none of us knows each other except through blogging. But it turns out Krista's aunt is a secretary at the school where the twins' mother teaches. Blessed Assurances is the twins' mother's cousin and my brother was at one time Krista's chiropractor! I just LOVE how God revealed all this in His perfect time! Why is any of this a big deal you ask? For exactly the reason Blessed Assurances said.

"I can't believe how God is bringing all these people together to pray for my family."

(Go read how just TODAY, Mommy got to hold Kanyon for the first time!!!)

My family has said the same thing about all the people who have had their (extremely important) part in praying for my brother's baby Ashley! And if you have come by here today and you love to pray for the "little children" Jesus commanded to let come unto Him, please take time to join the prayer chain for all of these amazing children, plus the nephew of one of my most encouraging commenters Toni (whose blog is sweet and insightful and wise and sunny, by the way.) Connor is three and bravely battling Leukemia. He doesn't have a public website, but he does have a hopeful family and a need of prayer.

God is SO WONDERFULLY AMAZING!!!

"And a little child shall lead them." Isaiah 11:6b

These are the babies God has provided a blog family to pray for:

Ashley

Kanyon

Addie (Sarah, the first blog I ever read)

Ivey (Sarah's long time IRL friend)

Connor

Ethan (introduced to me today through all this, but I'm praying for him now)

If you feel so led, please visit my sidebar for other sweet children also in need of prayer. I was just struck by how God has brought together these particular children through such an incredible set of "coincidences," or as I like to refer to them, His plans He is just now letting us know about!

And if you want to be reminded to be thankful for your awesome children today, watch this, about a marvelous little boy named Eliot who now resides in the bosom of Jesus, told by his dad whose love and wisdom absolutely astounds me.

P.S. Please forgive me for the links that do not work. Blogger seems to only be accepting links that are found on Blogspot. If a link you would like to visit does not work, you can find most of them in my sidebar. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Sweet Public Sundays

After much mental game-playing to try to delay such realizations, I have finally conceded that my life is entering a drastically different phase from the previous few years. And I am finally beginning to even embrace it. I am finally giving in to the idea that my home will never again be filled with a multitude of half-filled sippy cups. I will no longer hear the sounds of sing-songy cartoon themes like Dora The Explorer or Blues Clues blasting from a TV that no one is even watching. Now my kids would rather watch pre-teen sitcoms that require far more vigilance in screening beforehand. The toys that filled the living room floor and burdened a clean path to the kitchen are gone. The children are starting to prefer role play in their rooms instead. They like to open the window and pretend it's a fast food drive-through. And more and more, they are preferring to play these games with friends, peers their own ages, rather than just with Mom and Dad.

Dalton, especially, is getting to that age where a kiss on the cheek is a little too uncomfortable for the school drop-off line. Instead, he'll just lean his head down for me to ruffle his hair and tell him I love him in his ear, though it looks like I could just be reminding him there is lunch money in the small pocket of his backpack. The funny thing is, I thought when he ever got that way, I might be offended. But I'm not. Because he doesn't come across at all as if he is embarrassed of us now that he is growing up. It's more like HE needs to start believing that he is going to have what it takes to be on his own one day, because instinctively he is beginning to realize that will eventually be the case. And I instinctively want to encourage him that he will one day do well as his own man, even as I secretly pray that day would be a very long time in coming.

Thankfully, every night lately I have been noticing that as I sit on the sofa to help my daughter with her homework, Dalton comes to sit beside me and leans his head against my shoulder as he and I listen to her read. He's very subtle. Sometimes it even takes me a couple of minutes to realize he is there. I am so engulfed in helping her to sound out the more difficult words. Occasionally, he'll even slip his arm around my neck as he sits with me.

But on Sundays, this ritual makes it's only public appearance. After years of participation in Children's Church, this is Dalton's first year to come into regular services. No more brightly colored pictures of the most popular Bible stories. No more macaroni glued to form scenes on the back of a paper plate. My son is now expected to sit with the adults and hear the preaching of God's Holy Word. Sometimes the subject matter still seems a tad too tender for his innocent ears. I know it's inevitable he'll hear about topics such as war and church strife and sex SOMEWHERE, if not in church, but still........I'm longing for the days when learning to tie his shoes was his biggest worry in life.

So this morning, as the past few Sunday mornings, I couldn't help but smile with sweet satisfaction as Dalton leaned his head against my shoulder right there on the pew for all to see. He even grabbed my hand and held it in my lap as he listened to the pastor preach about end times and trusting God in times of persecution. He could have chosen to sit with his friends, but instead he leaned on me and made comments or asked questions only at purely appropriate moments. He's getting so grown up that way. And I just thanked God for His marvelous grace. That He saw fit to make it so that they leave us very slowly. And that when they do, they are far more prepared than they probably recognize. Hopefully, far more prepared than I feel like I will be. But for now, I just love that head breathing softly on my shoulder as I soak in God's reminders to us both. That though we don't see Him, He will always be with us. One day, when my son leaves my home and goes wherever it is that God's plan is leading him, my strongest hope is that he will remember that. And know that he has a mom back at "home" who feels the same way!

Sweet Music

My boys are not different from any other siblings in a relationship. Sometimes, they argue. Sometimes one irritates the other purposely and the other feels a need to retaliate because on a worldly level, it's the only way to make things "fair." Of course, sometimes they will defend one another against the flagrant rudeness of an outsider, too. Like the time my mild mannered older son shot a very hard intentional glare in the direction of a 12-year-old who was taunting his then 4-year-old brother and blocking him inside a plastic pod at McDonald's. Both Dalton and I were ready to take this kid to task, I can assure you.

But it's only been in the last year or so that the dynamic between my sons has included just hanging out. Enjoying one another's company. Being brothers. Discovering together what it means to be a boy. Before, Justice was just a toddler, unable to keep up with Dalton. He was just discovering the magic of Blue's Clues at the time when Dalton was needing to assert his growing maturity by proclaiming Blue's Clues was "too babyish." Justice would ride his tricycle around the small invisible space we (his parents) had proclaimed to be safe, while wistfully watching his older brother have free reign of the cul-de-sac on his big boy bike.

I have never been in any hurry to rush a particular stage of growth in my children. I've always wanted to heed the advice of mothers everywhere to "enjoy every moment." But I have dreamed about the day my boys would be true buddies. And I always just assumed when they bonded in this way, it would probably be over something strictly male. Playing football (which they do, for HOURS on end), building forts, or woodworking in their Dad's shop.

I would never have guessed that one of the sweetest moments I'd ever witness between these two would begin with a cheap toy bought yesterday at Dollar General.

Somewhere in a torn powder blue gift bag, I have 2 receipts kept as mementos for the first times my 10-year-old son and my 7-year-old daughter made purchases with their own money. This tradition is a big deal in our family. We'll give the kids opportunities to do chores around the house outside of their regular assigned tasks and pay them accordingly. Things that are not required, but merely opportunities for a "paycheck" if they want save for something special. We show significant pride in that receipt for a first purchase and hang it on the refrigerator for several days. I can still remember that my son bought a calculator and my daughter bought a doll. Both under $5 and legitimately earned.

Yesterday, it was Justice's turn. We were at the discount store so I could quickly grab some laundry soap when he came to me with worry in his voice. "Oh, I REALLY want to spend my money here on something, but I didn't know we were coming here so I don't have my wallet. And there's only one of them left!" Being the embodiment of JOCK, I was surprised when he told me the item he was panting after was a $1 yellow plastic recorder, a musical instrument similar to a flute.

Dalton received a recorder in music class before Christmas and has since been steadily improving at it, adding four or five songs to his repertoire. And Justice just knew that his patient older brother would be eager to teach him. He stood there and admired that little plastic toy like it held all the value of a vault of gold. I fronted him the $1. And I have made it back more than a million times over in watching my little boys practice together.

A while ago, Justice ran into my room where I lay sick and absolutely beamed from ear to ear! "Justice is here to give you a concert," Dalton proclaimed. I watched as my younger son proudly lifted that little plastic recorder toward his toothless, gapped grin and announced, "Listen, mama! I can do two notes - A and B. Except, of course, in recorder B comes first." Then he glanced knowingly at his brother seeking his respect for having remembered that musical fact. I choked back happy tears as I listened to the most beautiful rendition of two notes played over and over and over. The tender satisfaction in my heart was mirrored in Dalton's face as he watched his protege's performance. He was taking a bit of rightful ownership in the success of a new accomplishment for his not-so-baby brother. A teacher and his student. Loving siblings. My boys.