Not by Might

Sleepover for Tweeners

2012-01-31T14:45:00.004-06:00

Ten years old is a big deal. I think I honestly thought she would never turn ten. I know Brighton won’t but Julia did.... last week. Ten. Jeff is still in denial, but since I have the name that “party planner” job falls under, I had to face it head on. Maybe my kids are just navel gazers or maybe they are just normal but they talk about their birthdays MONTHS and MONTHS before they actually occur. They make grandiose plans that I have NO intention of carrying out~ one, because they won’t remember the 16 different plans they make and two, I don’t sell the fatted calf to throw, say, an 8th birthday. We don’t do a party every year but all birthdays get celebrated, fully. We started a tradition on Julia’s first birthday of waking up the birthday child in a very special, loud, unique, goofy way. It’s the Sanders’ secret and you will NEVER see pictures of that.

When I asked Julia how she would like to celebrate her 10th birthday being certain she would forget the insane idea of having 13 girls over to spend the night. While she thought, I rehearsed my “yes” to her request of having a couple of friends over or going out to dinner somewhere really special. While I waited, I knew in that moment I would even say “yes” to one last trip to the American Girl Doll store. She didn’t forget. When she made the list for a spend the night party there were exactly 13 girls on her list between the ages of 8-11. Oh boy. I don’t think I have to explain my heart rate, my anxious thoughts, my sudden need for a nap. I love kids. I love little girls but 13? All at once? All night? I didn’t say yes. I said, “See what your Daddy says. And show him your list,” being certain he would resist all the craziness on my behalf and say no. What was I thinking? He’s the one that couldn’t keep a straight face* the day I sent them to his office when I was so mad I could not even speak to them. But I’ve already told that story.

After thinking through where they would all sleep, we asked Brighton if he would give up his room for the night so the girls would be as close together as possible~ joined by their bathroom. And that made me think of “adjoining rooms” and that made me think of of “hotel” and here is where we went with it.

A “Pages” template

Now I was energized and ready to fill our pretend B&B for the night. Like any good hostess would, I would plan every minute to reduce any possible drama or boredom or nail polish on the carpet or sleeping bag rides down the staircase.

As the girls checked in, Brighton, our bell boy, took their luggage up to their room and then escorted them onto the patio for hot chocolate and pretzels. Here, they waited for all their friends to arrive. Pizza was delivered promptly afterwards and the girls headed to their assigned dining areas. Jeff and I then rounded them up for almost 2 hours of games. We played a game Emily taught us and since it is not marketed and doesn't come in a box, I don’t know what to call it but the “noun game” or the “PPT {person, place or thing} Challenge. It’s GREAT fun and both of our extended families played it after dinner every night during Christmas. We also divided the girls into 2 groups and played Rory’s Story Cubes and after each round they would line up and dramatically recite their story to the other team. They really got into this and came up with some colorful and whimsical stories.

After cupcakes, candles, and singing on the patio, we sent them upstairs to set up their sleeping spaces and put on their pj’s for the movies. A few days before, Julia received two Torchlighter movies for her birthday, The Perpetua Story and The Amy Carmichael Story. We watched both. Check out their faces.

Good stuff. The girls had lots to add and comment on after these movies. I loved hearing their thoughts. They all preferred The Amy Carmichael Story because of the happy ending. Of course. Every little girl-- and big girl-- wants a happy ending.

And because we never outgrow bedtime stories, we had them all back down in the den after they brushed their teeth. I read Max Lucado’s book, You Are Special seeing if they could tell me what the book meant in 2012 for a ten year old. Come to find out, Wemmicks and tweeners have a lot in common.

There were a few minutes of spare time. {!!!!} The upside of this is that there was no dog hair or dust of any kind on my stairs Saturday morning.

So it was smooth sailing {not so smooth on the stairs} until bedtime. If I could have let them all just fall asleep right where they were in the den after the story, I would have been snoozing within minutes, but alas, they had to move upstairs. And with every step they took up the stairs, the more awake, animated and silly they became. I went to check on them and here is what I found. {one was asleep in Suite 22 but the rest were all crowded into Suite 21, telling each other their most embarrassing moment!}

After a little “momma talk” accompanied by a wagging finger and a threat of no breakfast, they were all asleep by 1:00 in their right places.

I don’t think for a minute this was a good experience because of my planning. It was a good time because of this group of girls. I feel so blessed to know these girls and their sweet families. I am thrilled Julia has a group of girls with whom she can be silly, learn about friendship, and learn hard lessons. In-val-u-able. I would have this group again in a heart beat-- not next weekend--but I would have them again and again. They were super.

Although having all those girls in my house was the highlight of the night, below reveals the second highlight of my night. The ~~pack mule~~ cute bell boy tirelessly carried each girl’s overnight necessities upstairs and then out to their car the next morning without a hint of complaint. He never even had time to get out of his pajamas.

I told Jeff and Brighton I could not have pulled the party off without them. They were the “best staff EVER”. Jeff said “yes” to the sleepover and he carried more weight than I would have asked him to.

And if you are thinking about calling for a reservation, forget it. We open this B&B up by invitation only.

*Which is exactly what he should have done when his other half needed to stick her head in the freezer.

2012-01-31T12:55:00.000-06:00

1077- 1090

that he’s always hopeful and ready to play

little girls under umbrellas

Toni Thomas, Jeff’s secretary {!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!}

family birthdays

that he always brings her roses and always writes his words in a card

Torchlighter movies

birthday gifts sewn with love

“pit stop” kisses

girls having a sweet, bumpy, good time

scantily clad siblings waiting by dryer for warmed pj’s

that I get so much time with these two

books like The Care and Keeping of You for girls who are growing up {I was surprised by how much I liked it.}

Gospel for Asia orders of hers

that she has 13 friends to spend the night with {Thank You, Lord for sweet girls to spend time with and to grow up with. Thank You for their parents and how they bless our family.}

Julia's Birthday Letter 2012

2012-01-24T17:42:00.002-06:00

This morning of your 10th birthday, I was reading the One Year Bible entry for today, January 24th. A part of the psalm for the day reads like this:

May he give you the desire of your heart   and make all your plans succeed.  May we shout for joy over your victory   and lift up our banners in the name of our God.
May the LORD grant all your requests. Psalm 20:4-5

I noticed a date scratched by Psalm 20 in my Bible. On August 15, 2002, Denise and her family sent a huge bouquet of beautiful roses to me with these verses on the card. They were celebrating with us because a birthmother had chosen us to adopt her baby. But that baby was someone else’s. God was working His ways to get you to us. Almost two months later, we found out about you and we certainly “lift[ed] up our banners in the name of our God.” Denise had no idea when she put those words on the card that I’d potentially read them every time YOU had a birthday! Now EVERY January 24, I am reminded how He gave us the desire of our hearts and that He granted our request..... to be parents. We were astounded by His grace towards us and thus, your middle name, Karis {charis- grace that which affords joy, pleasure, delight, sweetness, charm, loveliness}. You are all of that.

So, you are TEN today. Your brother is most impressed with those double digits and has practiced already a few times, “My sister is ten.” No matter how hard your Daddy and I try, we cannot stop this thing called “birthday”. It comes every year. The brick on your head fell off a long time ago and was replaced by a string that pulls you up and up and up, ever so gracefully. I see the gracefulness physically but I am most excited about the grace I see in your spirit. You bless me with it daily and I am a better mom for it. I watch you depending on the Lord to help you be a patient big sister to your brother and I hear you asking for forgiveness when you fail. I see you extending forgiveness to others when it’s really, really hard. My prayer is that you would find Jesus to be “it” for you all your days, that He would be all that satisfies you and that you will trust Him to give you the desires of your heart.

There is so much to love about you. Even though I know I don’t act like I value your silliness, I do. I love to see you being 10, being free and being yourself. I love to watch you play the piano, perform ballets on stage or in your room with friends, and make up stories outside. I love to see you hugging on B, helping each other with chores or school work. I love to watch you delighting in your Daddy’s love for you. Your heart is on your sleeve and we are all blessed by that. Here is my short list of “loves” about you.

Top Ten Things I Love About You

10. Your favorite food is Mexican.

9. You like to win.

8. You appreciate deferred gratification and often choose it.

7. You love a good tale and spend many hours reading good words and listening to stories far into the night.

6. You are a saver for yourself and a spender on others.

5. You value all things “home”.

4. You treasure your friendships and each relationship brings you much joy.

3. You have compassion for hurting people and those in need.

2. You are ever so quick to forgive. {for the same offense a zillion times...}

1. Your heart belongs to Jesus and now you have the adventure of following Him the rest of your days.

I am proud to call you my sister in Christ.

Happy Birthday, Julia Karis Sanders.

Goodbye 9 and hello 10!!!

2012-01-24T17:10:00.001-06:00

Gifts #1059-1076

lake houses

Jeff and I being a part of his life a thousand miles away

long slipper days

Jeff’s eye on the future

encouraging words to spur me on

that I said, “Go for it!”

baby clothes

a good Monday

lyrics that bless me

homemade “Welcome Home” sign taped to garage door

“favorite things” shared with me

knowing my parents are home safe

friends willing to be absolutely interrupted

11th dozen of roses from Blake to remember her birthday

that the girl from 8/15/2002 changed her mind

that He has given us 10 years with her

So, How’s It Going?

2012-01-17T14:50:00.001-06:00

I get that question a lot. And most every time, someone is asking about school- mostly fellow home school moms, which, by the way, have an ever increasing value to me with each year. I am so grateful for them. Usually, I don’t like the question because usually, I don’t like the first answer that pops into my head because usually it seems I get asked this question after a really hard day. Incidentally, I am figuring out that “hard days” mostly have to do with me and my responses to Julia and Brighton’s being on the planet for only 10 and 8 years, respectively. They do very 10-ish and 8-ish year old things. Bottom line: My response should be more gracious and understanding to their plight of being 10 and 8. But that’s for another day.

Moving on...

Four months in, we have a good schedule that gets the necessities in before Julia’s 12 o’clock online history class. Brighton has one too but his is not “live”. The great thing is is that they both really love those classes, so I feel we are getting a healthy education on early Greece and Rome. Brighton has been counting down the weeks until he gets to Alexander the Great. Grammar throws us all off kilter as I hardly remember learning any of it the first time around but we are surviving but at the same time I find myself wondering, if I haven’t heard the term “verb-transitive- since 4th grade, why do we need to know that? Of course we do math and I add in the electives I choose for my favorite part of the day~ “line time”, but as they are getting older, the work they do gets more difficult and it takes longer. They are only 4th and 2nd graders but I am already missing the “early years”.

First day of school 2008

Gone are the days of reading a dozen picture books to Julia on the window seat, after I had to help her up onto it. Sigh. Gone are the days of math lessons taking about 5 minutes which usually involved brightly colored manipulatives. Gone are the days of 3 and 4 letter words on spelling tests. Gone are the days of weekly outings to Starbucks school. {It’s just a bigger production now, too “LOOK-AT-WHAT-WE-ARE-DOING!”} Gone are the days of my saying, “Oh, we will get to that eventually.” {“Eventually” is here.} Gone are the days of being finished {homework and all} by noon. Gone are the days of only spelling tests on Fridays. There is much I miss.

So what about now? What am I seeing now that gone is truly gone? What am I thankful for now when I wish we could just crawl up on the window seat with Goldfish, rearrange pillows and read picture books?

Julia reading historical fiction on her own just because she wants to {this happens to Brighton.... as often as a total eclipse}
Learning about honoring and respecting each other when they really want to just fight
Making decisions about having an efficient and a hard work ethic
Locating on a map countries of which I had never heard and knowing God’s Spirit is working there too
Seeing me get rattled and how I handle that with them
Finding out what it really means to serve your family even when you don’t feel like it
Figuring out that grades do matter
Their realizing that the world is SO much larger than what they see and there are needs out there that are stag-ger-ing
Learning that, even though he is not directly involved, our school days are just as important to their daddy as they are to me
Figuring out that team work is cool
Having real conversations about real situations that shape, hurt, challenge, encourage, and inspire their hearts... and that would be what I am most thankful for... the time for that

I also know there is much to look forward to... whether I am still teaching them at home or not. As they get older, there is more I want to share, more that I can expose them to, world event links to click on, incredible books I want to dive into with them, more topics to discuss, and truths to explore from different vantage points as their world gets larger.

Words to refocus my thoughts..

I’d say it was going well. The hard days, even though they zap my energy and even make me sad, I know good stuff is being learned, stuff that will serve them well in the cul de sac, at school, in the baseball dugout or on the field, at church, in the ballet dressing room, at spend the night parties, in future jobs, at college, and, most importantly, in the plans and purposes that God has for my children.

I love these two kids and feel like I won the most competitive contest of all contests to get these two, even though I did NOTHING. God. I choose to rest in the fact that God holds their hearts and if He can orchestrate getting them to me and Jeff, getting me to say “yes” to homeschooling and getting us through five years of it so far, He can also, most assuredly, carry out the rest of His plan. I will choose to rest in that.

I will.

2012-01-17T13:05:00.000-06:00

1040-1058

friends who know me

Jeff’s humor

kisses in the school room

that daddy met a fellow Veteran in Viet Nam, enabling him to share stories and remember the most difficult time in his life

that in Viet Nam where, years ago, he saw such hate and violence, last week, the kindergarten children called him “Grandpa”

space heaters

sweetness pinned up on the school room wall

grace gifts in the form of friends

Emily Freeman’s writing~ her book, Grace for the Good Girl and her blog, Chatting at the Sky {And while I am at it.... this week, Larry Crabb, Elyse Fitzpatrick, Ann Voskamp}

gorgeous Saturday afternoon at Mainstay Farm with dear friends

pockets of time from Jeff

pictures from Daddy in my inbox EVERYday

rodeo tickets from our neighbors {Thank you, Hal and Carmen!}

that Emily is an amazing listener {!!!}

spiritual birthdays

anticipating time with friends

song from a friend that helps me persevere in my story

that His purposes for Julia and Brighton are more important to Him than they are even to me

that I can rest because, really, it has nothing to do with me

How Sweet It Is {Part 1}

2012-01-10T14:54:00.002-06:00

I was only nineteen the first time I saw him. After finishing my finals only a couple of days before, I had packed my car for the summer break not having a clue that over the next few days, pieces would fall into place that would shape my next several decades. That afternoon driving out of Athens, the only things on my mind were the excitement of being finished with finals, the anticipation of getting to hang out with one of my mentors, Jill...... and probably the car in front of me. We were both planning on serving at a camp for high school students the next week so we planned a little bit of time together before the rest of the volunteers arrived.

At school I had been spending time with a young man, David, who was following after God but I was figuring out that my heart wasn’t his. Or was I just confused? Nineteen and confused-- something tells me now that is teenage typical. I was not “on the look out” for guys at this camp. I was excited about being with Jill and my church family who would drive up to Toccoa Falls College to be a part of Impact. I’d figure David out when I got back home.

When all the staff and volunteers arrived, it didn’t take me long to see him. He was taller than most, larger than most and definitely more handsome than all. Frankly, I thought he was better looking than any boy I had ever seen. Ever. Immediately, my skeptical voices started their monologues. “He can’t be that cute and love Jesus. He’s just here killing time during his summer. He’s looking for a girlfriend. How lame is that?” Judgmental and petty? Absolutely. Meet Krista Leigh Dennard at 19. His youth minister who introduced him to the entire group didn’t help, “This is Jeff Sanders, my youth intern for the summer. He plays college football............and ladies............he’s available!!” My eyes rolled almost to the point of no return. However, I was intrigued. My curiosity drove me to ask a couple of people about him....... under the disguise of my interest in college football. Then, nonchalantly, I could tag a personal question or two at the end. All reports were shining. Definitely intrigued.

How I wish I remembered our first interactions but I do remember liking his personality immediately. He was a kidder, but serious about why he was there. He had a community around him that he had obviously invested in and who had invested in him. As the week progressed, I watched him with the kids and there was a hoard of them around him all week. I noticed he was a little uncomfortable with that and he never let the attention linger on him. As I got to have more conversations with him, I sensed his relationship with the Lord had dimensions that I had not explored. And since it was unfamiliar, insecurities surfaced and I wondered if this friendship was worth it, yet the intrigue remained. I wanted him to think just like me and to have the same convictions I had. He didn’t. And he didn’t pretend to.

But knowing him for only 6 days was like a boulder being thrown into the middle of my placid pond of a life. God knew it would. I was all messed up. I stopped at a bookstore on the way home and purchased the book Jeff told me he was reading and that he thought I would enjoy. No Wonder They Call Him the Savior by Max Lucado {yes, he’s been writing books for that long} Driving towards home through the pine trees in my little gray car, I had my first thoughts of “He might be THE ONE.” Whoa. That was big, especially when I knew he didn’t meet all my “pre-requisites”. {And no, I cannot reveal all of those. Too embarrassed. Even if I was just 19. Let’s just say, James Taylor was a problem.} I ate dinner with my family revealing just enough about Jeff that made my Momma flinch-- she really liked David. I let her know I just wanted to go to bed and that if David called, to tell him that I would call him tomorrow. Just like any self respecting mother, she woke me up when he called and I, as kindly as I could, broke up with him and went back to bed. I knew my heart wasn’t his.

I devoured the book and was challenged by the way Jesus was portrayed in the book. I didn’t know who “Max Lucado” was and, at that stage of my life, I was leery if he wasn’t Southern Baptist affiliated. How could he know Jesus like that? Did he even go to Sunday School at 9:45 a.m? I bet he listened to J.T. But from a man, who said things like this, I didn’t care.

“You think, he would love you more if you hadn’t done it, right? You think he would love you more if you did more, right? You think if you were better, his love would be deeper, right?

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

His love is not human. His love is not normal. His love sees your sin and loves you still. Does he approve of your error? No. Do you need to repent? Yes. But do you repent for his sake or yours? Yours. His ego needs no apology. His love needs no bolstering.

And he could not love you more than he does right now.”

So, at 19, that is what I needed to know and feel in my heart. Oh, sure, I had read things like it before, but all my comfortable rules had been written over it so many times, I couldn’t make it out any more. He loved me, period. No matter what. This GRACE He'd been slathering me in all my life is what I saw in Jeff. This twenty year old I’d known for only a week LIVED in it. I knew about it, but Jeff LIVED in it. He was attractive, no doubt, but grace is what drew me in. Grace is what I sensed, what I heard in our conversations, what I experienced in our friendship and what I needed desperately.

And at 41, I have to be careful that His unconditional love for me doesn’t get buried under all my expectations of myself.... and of other people. God has had me in a review course for the last year or more~ reminding me of the foundation He’s had me on all this time, the identity I have carried all this time, whose image He made me in, the thoughts He has towards me no matter what, and the delight He experiences because of me. Wow. Wow. Delight.

Jeff knew at 20 that this 19 year old who had a very strong Southern accent, who loved Jesus, and who thought she had it all together needed to be refreshed with grace.

I will be..... forever...... grateful.

#75.... is he not THE cutest?? But it was grace, I promise.

{Jeff and I are celebrating 20 years in August and he has already kicked off the party in his own creative ways. I am hoping to post something once a month until August regarding Jeff and our marriage~ praying the Lord leads.}

2012-01-10T14:00:00.000-06:00

{Gifts #1015- 1039}

first crackles of a fire

a nap

date night

sweet “Hey Tells” from Julia during a crazy night at work

Brighton spending his money on his sister

marks on the pantry door

lessons learned in the cul de sac

winter hats that make us laugh {Thanks, Meghan!}

sunny January days

Legos clicking in the quiet

letters from Jeff

B’s pj’s.....too short

talks that went well {at least I thought so}

school room ready

Julia’s doggie ears in the Gospel for Asia catalog

brownies with Andrea in her backyard

baseballs in my front yard

boys together

Jeff’s celebration know-how... and how special I feel

opportunities that blow my mind

a new playlist

B bursting in the door with neighborly hand me downs praising the Lord, “ ‘Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good and His love endures forever!’ Now you don’t have to go to Target, Mom!!”

unsolicited prayers

rain

that I went to Impact, June 1990

From the Backseat #19 "Too Much"

2012-01-03T13:40:00.000-06:00

Kids have a way of spicing up simple, mindless errands. When you think a trip to the grocery store will be, well, a trip to the grocery store, it turns into an excavation of things buried deep and you can’t quit thinking about for days...weeks. Julia was re-reading a book and Brighton was playing his usual role of “filler of car with words”. Key words like “God” and “heaven” registered with me so I started ~~listening~~ asking questions.

Me {engaged Mom} - “What do you want to know about heaven?”
B - “You know, Mom. EVERYthing. But, will I talk to God? Can I ask Him questions?”
Me - “Of course, B. One thing you’ll be happy to hear is that God will never tire of all your questions.”

He paused. I must mention his pause because it speaks volumes. Brainwaves spazzing.

B- “You mean He would never say, ‘That’s enough for one day.’ or ‘No more questions.’? Will He really answer all of them?”
Me- “Yes and gladly. He will and He will never say, ‘That’s enough’.”

Again, that stopped his mouth because he had to think about that. That was big. He repeated the good news again for me to affirm. He liked that. A lot. His response made me chuckle and wince and I certainly haven’t forgotten what those words mean for me.

God will never say to me, “That’s enough.” I am never too much for Him. I will never bug Him or bother Him. I’ve worked hard all my life to NOT be “too much” for anyone. People don’t like being with people who are “too much” and, well, I want people to like me. I want to be easy. We all value easy people~ those people who aren’t too much trouble, who don’t require too much of our time, too much of our energy, physically, spiritually, emotionally or even those we feel “too much” is going well for them. Jealousy creeps in and even their good things can be reason for aversion at times.

I have feared the scenario of what might happen if my neediness {or even my happiness} became too much for a friend? For my family? For Jeff? To push someone where they just throw their hands up and say, “That’s enough! I can’t do this anymore!” or worse, shut down, without notice. I have feared that. I think this means that there have been times I have feared the rejection of people over the value of letting my needs or emotions be known. That’s a problem. Solely mine.

But you know what? Sometimes I am too much. Because sometimes life SEEMS too much. And sometimes I talk too much. People, even loved ones, have the option to steer clear, change the subject, or not answer the phone call and should have the freedom to do so. And for the record, I have the best friends on the planet. I’d put my last cup of coffee on it but they live down here too. They’ve got stuff too. They can’t always take on or even listen to more stuff, but most of the time they do, sacrificially. The freeing news is that God, in His kindness, can always handle us and our stuff. Every time. Perfectly. Always.

He ALWAYS chooses me~ my whining, my losses, my celebrations, my sadness, my complaining, my demands, my “I’m so happy right now!”, my desperation, my massive neediness.

My “too much-ness”.

He’ll never say, “That’s enough for one day.”

Because He loves me.

2012-01-03T13:00:00.001-06:00

980. Saturday mornings and Tom and Jerry

981. getting to spend an afternoon with Dr. and Mrs. Garrett

982. secrets of Christmas Eve

983. her last ten dollars for Daddy’s gun fund

984. these awkward hugs

985. that Jeff ordered a squirrel ornament~ to remember one of our funnier family stories

986. handmade gifts

987. giving him Bullseye {What will be the last toy I buy?}

988. Jeff’s thoughtful gifts

989. that she got up with us

990. B’s unbridled enthusiasm

991. Julia’s love of books

992. eating His birthday cake once a year

993. his persistence with Legos

994. Jeff and I being able to return to the homes in which we grew up ~what a gift

995. our parents who never stop serving the ones they love {and there is nothing like a Mom’s hospitality} Thank you!!!!!

996. Denise’s 14 layer chocolate cake {you would put it on your list too}

997. Momma’s kitchen~ good stuff has always happened here

998. that my nephew has chosen this young lady to spend most of his time with over the last 3 {?} years

999. the mess of Christmas

1000. that my Daddy remembered

1001. this crazy family

1002. playing games after dinner

1003. that Jeff got to hunt twice

1004. Candlelight service in my home church

1005. Jesus’s birthday party at John and Denise’s

1006. Church on Christmas morning

1007. my kids knowing Daddy’s woods better than me

1008. grown up nieces and nephews

1009. cousin sleepovers at Meema’s

1010. three tables of family at Chili’s

1011. Saturday morning birthday parties {and camera tips from Sarah}

1012. copied devotional from a friend

1013. the Lord’s Supper with friends

1014. that I am never too much for Him

Because of His Grace, it IS a Wonderful Life!

2011-12-25T01:00:00.002-06:00

This morning Brighton seemed to be coming down the stairs awfully early.

Jeff asked, “Have you brushed your teeth?”

Paused on the stairs, “Almost.”

“And how do you “almost” brush your teeth?”

“Well, I did it half way.”

~*~

This same morning as I was headed up to awaken them to start the day, I stepped over a piece of notebook paper and saw that it was something intended for me.

“Dear Darling Mother,

If it pleases you, will you wake me up at 6:30 sharp? I wish to start my chores, practice pano (I forgot where the “I” goes) and do my BSF lesson. I will be so grateful and pleased. I am sorry for __________. I had vowed not to speak to you, but that was not right. I love you.

Your grateful daughter,

Julia Sanders”

There’s your peek. And so goes the day~ always interesting, always dramatic and ever changing. Julia and Brighton are 4th and 2nd graders this year and continue to enjoy their same activities. Julia is not intimidated by my sewing machine that, for me, sends chills down my spine. Her ballet moves have turned into words I cannot say, much less spell and maybe next to watching her dance, I love to watch her play the piano {I know where the “i” goes}. She plays critical roles in keeping our home running smoothly but her favorite roles are the ones she plays in her mind in centuries long gone. She’s torn between iTouches and out of print books, North Face jackets and crocheted shawls. She’s delightful to talk with, that is, if you can find her without a book. Then it gets a little difficult. Day after day, I am blessed by her.

Brighton, in the best sort of way, doesn’t care what she’s doing. He’ll talk to her at 3am- and to you at 3am , if he found you. I’m never worried about him while he is playing out in the neighborhood, because I can always hear him above all the others. I know he has not gone far. And if for some reason I miss an injury, a scrape, a spin, a roll, a jump, a dance ~ no worries, he thrives on instant replays. Sometimes that means I just get to see it twice. He is enthusiastic about baseball, not so enthusiastic about reading {if there aren’t rewards after the last page}, enthusiastic about picking out his own tunes on the piano, not so enthusiastic about reading music, enthusiastic about all things Dad, not so enthusiastic about chores. He singlehandedly makes it safe for you to walk in our backyard. And the icing on this cute little cake? He may be the most relational person I know and he flourishes in a room full of people or with just you.

By God’s grace, Tarrant Net is still going well. Jeff and his staff recently met with a group of pastors that will serve as a new pastoral leadership team in 2012. October brought the second county wide Faith in Action where 56 churches and thousands of believers of all denominations invaded our county with good deeds and major service projects.

The animals stood around his bed. And the whole earth and all the stars and sky held its breath....”The One who made us has come to live with us!” And a young mother with no place to rest, nowhere to stay, kept it as a song inside her heart.....

“OUR RESCUER!”

And they gazed in wonder at God’s great gift. Lying on a bed of straw wrapped in rags-- a tiny little baby. Heaven’s Son sleeping under the stars He made.

Song of the Stars by Sally Lloyd Jones

Rescue us! Emmanuel! God with us! Praise be to God!

Five Days Out

2011-12-20T08:33:00.001-06:00

"We must both read and meditate on the Nativity. If the meditation does not reach the heart, we shall sense no sweetness, nor shall we know what solace for humankind lies in this contemplation. The heart will not laugh nor be merry. As spray does not touch the deep, so mere meditation will not quiet the heart. There is such richness and goodness in this nativity that if we should see and deeply understand, we should be dissolved in perpetual joy."
~Martin Luther

The scene in Luke 2 does lead to perpetual joy. Come April 8th, 2012, we will have been through the agony of Good Friday and will be celebrating His resurrection. This year, I cannot forget that. It’s why He came.

For if, by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through that one man, how much more will those who receive God’s abundant provision of grace and of the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ!

Consequently, just as one trespass resulted in condemnation for all people, so also one righteous act resulted in justification and life for all people.

For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous.

Romans 5: 17-19

And this is why He came. The Scripture that replayed in my mind last year and was Luke 2:6 and if you could do this sort of thing in Scripture, a magnificent drumroll would be inserted, most certainly, right here,

“While they were there, the TIME came for the baby to be born.”

The TIME came this unfathomable plan, "justification and life” to be set in motion and for the “gift of righteousness” to be given.

We are five days out. Let’s meditate deeply and be “dissolved in perpetual joy.”

Glory to God in the highest.

2011-12-20T08:00:00.002-06:00

961. Andrew Peterson’s Behold the Lamb of God

962. Christmas cards

963. getting to be a part of this creative, talented group of kids

964. Amy, who set up these great opportunities

965. my brother and nephew asleep under my roof

966. RJ and how he loves my children, his cousins

967. my niece, Hunter, finding a ride to Texas

968. her untainted Southern accent {and the snippets of my brother I see in her}

969. Julia and Brighton’s excitement and love for their extended family

970. that Sarah let us come “craft” with her and her handsome boys {take a peek here to meet one of the neatest families I know}

Learn to make these here on Sarah’s site.

971. friends who loved on Hunter

972. old friends, old stories, homemade Mexican and lots of laughs

973. these four in MY front yard!

974. Christmas lights

975. friends visiting from FAR and near

{Finland!!}

{Austin- Yvette, it was fair to post this picture. NONE of us have on make up!!}

976. White Christmas and all its songs

977. Mrs. Cox, Lover of Children and Sewer Extraordinaire

978. Julia and Brighton’s words when we left Mrs. Cox’s house, “She’s an angel.” {J}, “We could call her ‘Angel Betty’!” {B}, “What would we do without her?” {B}, “I would have such a hole in my life.” {J}, “She’s a godly woman!” {B} ~ all this and our time with her warmed my heart...

979. that Jesus came

A Poem and a Stranger

2011-12-13T14:30:00.000-06:00

His intent was to share Jesus with me and he did. I don’t know how old he was....older than my Daddy. As I answered emails on the banquette at Panera, he stopped to make a comment on my shirt. A simple tactic to get to his real point, “Why are you celebrating Christmas?” He was a tall man, with, as one of my favorite customers says, “snow on the mountain” which grew down into a darker beard and mustache which framed a very warm smile. His “mountain” was topped off with a 101st Airborne Division cap. Feeling a little put on the spot, I smiled and gave him the best Sunday School answer I could, in order to convince him there was no need to pull out a gospel tract because I am sure he would have. He was satisfied with my answer but there was something else.

When he walked over, I immediately pulled ear plugs from my ears. I was listening to Elyse Fitzpatrick’s podcast on her book Because He Loves Me, trying to saturate myself in this message of God’s immeasurable love for and acceptance of me in my sinful state. I had struggled this morning even before I could get kids in the car by 9:30. As a friend shared this weekend, I can ask God for grace to cover my sin knowing His grace will not run out and that I am not too much for Him but my kids?? They are sinful like me. Will their grace for their Momma run out? {Thank you, friend, for putting words to my struggle and helping me figure out from where the deep sadness stems.} As I was quickly gathering my things to leave the house, I had condemning thoughts questioning the way I was wired, why some things were so important to me, why I respond so harshly so quickly, why I can’t remember ~ after a year ~ to STOP and give thanks instead of hot words that bear NO fruit. Why do I make it such a struggle? Why do I seem to wrestle against what He wants to do in my life? This purging is not pretty.

Out of the blue, the big man in the black hat had Ephesians 2:8-10 for me. The gospel, Pure and True. He didn’t know I needed to be reminded of that today, but Someone did. “For it is by GRACE you have been saved, through faith-- and this not from yourselves, it is the GIFT of God-- not by works, so that no one can boast.” vs 8-9 A grace gift. Of course. He made sure I did not miss verse 10. “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” He told me that “handiwork” could be translated as “poem” {I did check him out on that and his Greek is good.} and that I am God’s poem. Crafted. Thought through. Loved. Cherished. As the lines of my life were being written, He included good works for me to accomplish. My work is parenting {and “wife-ing”} right now so I am sitting up straight listening to this stranger. He leaned over my computer to emphasize his verse 10 point, “The word says you are “in Christ Jesus”, “created anew in Christ Jesus”. You aren’t to struggle and strive in your good works. You are to walk in it. Just walk in it.” All I could think of to say was, “Yes, sir.” He smiled and said goodbye.

I quickly typed what he had said so I wouldn’t forget. I knew God was speaking through him and I didn’t want to miss it. My thoughts led me here. I think of a good poem, a beautifully written poem. The words flow. There is a cadence, a rhythm. Once written, there is no striving, no struggling over the words. A crafted poem flows. Beautifully. Easily.

This sputtering, this “cranking out”, this striving was never His intention. I’ve missed the point. I lost it somewhere. He’s already written my poem. He did it in advance. I want flow and rhythm and beauty in my life. A poem. I am created for that-- by grace, through faith. I believe it’s there. He’s helping me find it.

2011-12-13T14:16:00.001-06:00

940. girls {still} playing immigrants {thus the creative December garb}

941. “rockin’ around the Christmas tree” with Brenda Lee and Julia’s friends

942. getting to have this group around my table~ so thankful for the way you bless my husband and serve our God by serving our city

943. Sugar Plum fairies upstairs

944. Saturday for home

945. 20 years of candy making {and now we have helpers}

946. friends that comfortably interrupt {read: bless us tremendously or just want us for our TV } our Sabbath

947. opportunities bigger than I can imagine

948. Kingdom minded pastors and churches

949. my friend, who is as enthusiastic about Mexican food as I am

950. 65th birthdays for over the top special people

951. extravagant homemade hospitality communicating love and admiration {Lana and Kristi, you blessed me while blessing her.}

952. lunch with time tested friends, now grandmothers

953. her excitement for times like this with no schoolwork hanging over her head

954. toe socks

955. these drawings that line my counters every year....to bless me and remind me

956. vulnerability

957. forgiveness and new mercies {can’t make my list too many times, yes?}

958. Advent book from Emily

959. anticipating FAMILY during the Christmas season {!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!}

960. angels that wear hats from the 101st Airborne

Field Trip

2011-12-07T00:19:00.001-06:00

I mentioned a few weeks ago a book I wish I had read years ago. I’ve heard a couple of people use the expression that a book “really messed me up”~ and I am figuring out they mean “messed [them] up” in the best sort of way. Typically, they go on to explain in coherent detail the amazing truths they gained and how they took hold of them, applying them to their lives and how their lives, now, are completely different. Well, I started a book and a couple of months later, I’m still in the “really messed up” stage, which for me means, I am really churned up on the inside~ like deep down where it matters. The Lord’s been gently plowing for a while and I think, preparing me for just these lessons. The problem is, I haven’t been able to get a good grip on any of it. Borrowing thoughts from Christa Wells, I don’t see these clouds framing up nicely and neatly any time soon. We have~and I do mean “we”~ got a forty year pattern to redirect.... or maybe, shatter. To smithereens. The words I read continue to drift about and morph in my mind and I can’t see exactly how they are going to frame up in my particular life. Frame up, they will, because it’s all Truth. I just can’t envision it yet. Sometimes the longest journey seems to be from your head to your heart. I told a friend today, I am ready for this field trip to be over. You know, get to the simple little talk at the end. Selfishly. Seriously.

Okay-- the book. Well, two books really. First book: Two friends from two different circles told me about the parenting book, Give them Grace: Dazzling Your Kids with the Love of Jesus by Elyse Fitzpatrick and one of them also recommended, by the same author, Because He Loves Me. {Thank you, Tara and Whitney.} The way I see it is that Because He Loves Me lays the framework on which Give them Grace can be built. Personally, I don’t think I can implement the teachings of the latter without fully understanding the former. And guess what? It’s messed me up so much that I can’t even type two coherent thoughts about it. I just know I want to understand these things in my soul, live them out in every area of my life and pass them on to my kids.

I’ll just give you some snippets to maybe whet your appetite or cause you to wonder if I am really a Christian or make you want to run as far away as possible from these books. I pray the first. It’s good stuff.

From Because He Loves Me:

Most of us view God’s love and the gospel as elementary topics meant to get us in the front door of faith, and they are that. But we’ve forgotten how these truths are also to transform us every moment of every day. {pg.38}

Peter writes [in 2 Peter 1:9] that one reason we don’t grow in ordinary, grateful obedience as we should is that we’ve got amnesia; we’ve forgotten that we were cleansed from our sins. In other words, he is saying that ongoing failure in sanctification {the slow process of change into Christlikeness} is the direct result of failing to remember God’s love for us in the gospel. If we lack the comfort and assurance that his love and cleansing are meant to supply, our failures will handcuff us to yesterday’s sin and we won’t have faith or courage to fight against them, or the love for God that’s meant to empower this war. {pg.39, italics mine}

The gospel message- you have been cleansed from sin-- is the pinnacle of God’s loving work in the world, and just as it is this work that saves us, it is also this work that transforms us and sustains us. The gospel is the message that must remain paramount throughout all our life. It must not be relegated to yesterday’s news or tucked away with the faded photos of our first steps in Christ. {pg.41}

Our problem is that if we don’t continually remind ourselves that he has chosen, renamed and remade us, the struggle to grow in Christian character will become nothing more than another attempt at self-improvement, and self-improvement always results in self-loathing or pride. Our Savior has declared that we are completely dependent upon him and what he accomplished for us, but in overconfidence we hastily run past his accomplishments and seek rest in our own. {pg.50}

From Give them Grace: Dazzling Your Kids with the Love of Jesus

Grace, or the free favor that has been lavished on us through Christ, ought to make our parenting radically different from what unbelievers do. That’s because the good news of God’s grace is meant to permeate and transform every relationship we have, including our relationship with our children. All the typical ways we construct to get things done and get others to do our bidding are simply obliterated by a gospel message that tells us that we are all {parents and children} both radically sinful and radically loved. At the deepest level of what we do as parents, we should hear the heartbeat of a loving, grace-giving Father who freely adopts rebels and transforms them into loving sons and daughters. If this is not the message that your children hear from you, if the message that you send them on a daily basis is about being good so that you won’t be disappointed, then the gospel needs to transform your parenting, too. {and that from the introduction! pg.21}

How can we tell whether our efforts at parenting are motivated by reliance on God’s grace or on self-trust? How can we know whether we’re trying to obligate God or serve him in gratitude? One way to judge is to consider your reaction when your children fail. If you are angry, frustrated or despairing because you work so hard and they aren’t responding, then you’re working {at least in part} for the wrong reasons. Conversely, if you’re proud when your children obey and you get the desired kudos---Oh! your kids are so good!-- you should expect your motives. Both pride and despair grow in the self-reliant heart. {pg.54}

See what I mean? This is spiritual DNA stuff. It’s the Spirit’s inner workings of who we are and how that is manifested every day~ outside my home and inside my home. One day, maybe, I can write a sensible post on these truths and the way I understand them and the way they’ve changed me. But I’ve got a feeling the field trip is far from over and I’m okay with that because I know He’s there.

2011-12-07T00:07:00.003-06:00

920. Christmas shopping with Jeff, hands down the best husband shopper in the west {can think of only one other that might compete-- CW!!}

921. childhood memories in these aqua boxes~ these dolls stop me in my tracks and I must look at every one. Big sigh and bigger smile.

922. still getting to shop toy stores

923. free samples from Julia to welcome us home

924. Remey and Kollin~ thanks, you two!

925. evidence of a good little reading stop

926. these notes under the, yes, BATHroom door {I have to give thanks to keep me from torching them.}

927. Julia cheering LOUDLY for her team {LSU}

928. this changing face~ how I love it so

929. Julia’s sadness seeking out her Daddy and later, quoting Mrs. Summey to help her heart

930. traditions... and Mortimer’s Christmas Manger

931. B’s passion for school project

932. watching squirrels play in the treetops from Julia’s window

933. borrowed bowls and borrowed recipes {thanks, TJ~ and Jamie}

934. forgiveness, all around, for everyone

935. man at Panera that let me know my PRICE tag was hanging out of my sweater

936. the anticipation of this season.... the Advent... the wonder of it all and getting to share it in new ways with our kids as they mature each year

937. prayers and coffee from Em {grateful to have you in our home, girl}

938. car talks that do my heart good

939. being challenged as never before by the “mystery of the gospel”

Cots and Friends and Things

2011-11-29T21:32:00.001-06:00

I had the real treat of sharing one of my mentors with friends the Sunday before Thanksgiving. We set up chairs in the den, put yummy food on the table, put the coffee on and just enjoyed each other. Add to that, Mrs. Summey’s warm personality, her stories, her confidence, transparency and Biblical wisdom, the night exceeded my expectations.

I have written many words about Mrs. Summey so I won’t repeat all the things that endear her to me, but every time I get to be with her, I am reminded how blessed I am to know her. As of late, I’ve been wishing I had paid more attention to her ways of parenting when her kids were younger. I have much to learn from her.

The topic she felt led to talk about was the value of friendship~ the difference a friend can make. The text was from Mark 2 and the story about the friends taking their paralytic friend to Jesus. They did not give up when they could not walk through the door to get him to Jesus. A plan was hatched and they climbed onto the roof and DUG a HOLE and lowered their companion down. Not an easy task. Interestingly enough, verse 15 says, “When [Jesus] saw THEIR faith......”. God commended each of their faiths, not just the paralytic’s.

In true Mrs. Summey form, she inspired, encouraged and challenged us fully. I will try to sum it up here.
Our life can change in a day, in a matter of seconds~ completely. At that point, a foundation of faith is critical. We may be rattled but when it all shakes out, our feet will land securely on the foundation He’s been building all these years. We need to remember that a foundation cannot be built in a day. Foundations are built minute upon minute, verse upon verse, trial upon trial, prayer upon prayer, victory upon victory. The investment will save your life. We can lean on a friend’s foundation for a time but we can’t take that one home at night.

The friends~ their faith~ dug the hole in the roof. They got messy. They hauled him onto the roof. They let him down. They went out on a limb for their friend-- in a big, big way. Would we? They believed there was something special about this man, Jesus. Something significant. Something amazing. Something “other”. Something for which they had been waiting. Do we believe that? Their faith in this Jesus they had only heard about is remarkable. They absolutely expected their friend to be changed. Do we? Do I believe that my faith might change someone else? What a difference a day made for him. What a difference an encounter with Jesus can mean for us, for a friend.

The best questions she asked us, I thought, were, whose on your mat? Who are you dragging to Jesus? Who are you willing to go out on a limb for-- dig a hole in the roof? Am I a friend like this? Am I regularly involved in introducing people to Jesus for salvation-- for them to experience the redemption of the gospel? For our friends who know Jesus but truly need us to walk through a dark season and need for us to be the one on which to lean and to consistently place them before the Father, am I willing to get so involved that it might interrupt my schedule and might call for a difficult, messy, energy draining plan B?

My answer? No. I really, really want to be that kind of friend. Really. I may be that kind of friend for a few, for those of whom I am especially fond, for those whose lives are relatively easy, for the ones I know who would do it for me....... I hang on for dear life to Romans 8:1 about right now. “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” Because of this same Jesus, I am under the law of the SPIRIT who has set me free from that condemnation that comes so readily...... and steadily. Challenged, yes. Condemned, no.

When the paralytic got up and walked, verse 12 says, “This amazed everyone and they praised God, saying, “We have never seen anything like this!” I have. I have seen God transforming lives ~ our own, those dearest to us and even strangers. You have to.

But I bet we have friends who haven’t.

What a difference a friend makes. What a difference a Savior makes.

2011-11-29T15:45:00.002-06:00

902. a break from teaching

903. not setting a morning alarm for a week

904. picture books and popcorn

905. neighbors, s’mores and caramel apples

906. the way the Thanksgiving meal permeates the whole house

907. people to eat it with!!

908. homemade place cards

909. half cord of firewood

910. Sterilite totes emerging from the attic

911. Julia’s invaluable decorating help and her free flowing hot cocoa

912. strings of lights that work

913. Jeff, always thinking with our family’s compass in mind

914. new Christmas music {thank you, Christa Wells!}

915. ornaments older than me

916. these months of house church

917. trees that stand upright~ yes, it was as awful as it looks

918. Brighton dancing

919. my Mom’s group who blesses me all year long

920. toddler in my house

921. friends who have faithfully placed my cot before Jesus this year

Pericope

2011-11-22T19:13:00.006-06:00

Jeff added a new word to my suffering vocabulary a few weeks ago. Pericope. I can’t say I’d ever heard or read it before. He was actually teaching when he used it, so unfortunately I don’t think I heard the rest of what he said because I kept thinking about that funny word. It’s sort of catchy whether you know what it means or not. First chance I got, I typed it in.

pericope [puh-rik-uh-pee]- noun. something taken from a whole

These last few weeks there’s been more time to click the shutter than click on these keys. I think about all these pictures I take and think about the simple stories they tell-- pericopes of this family’s whole story. Lighted windows into one room of an entire house. There’s always more to see than what you can see past your nose just beyond the glass. There’s always more to know about a story because a good one never really ends. A pericope is just a part of something, an unknown whole. That’s what these pictures are and these are the parts of the whole I have been enjoying the last few weeks.

This last month, it seems like every time I looked up after 5 p.m., the skies were just overflowing with colors of loveliness that just can’t be enjoyed properly driving home from who knows where.

887. beauty in the sky

When Jeff offered to take Brighton camping for his eighth birthday, B was ELATED. It was THE talk for the weeks preceding. When Jeff offered to take one of Brighton’s friends along, he shook his head, “No, Daddy. Just you and me.” I loved the pictures sent to my phone all weekend.

888. Brighton’s connection to his Daddy

Even though I am constantly challenging myself to get this boy with other boys more often, these two really do enjoy each other. Oh, they argue, roll their eyes, aggravate, grunt and squeal but most of the time they are content with each other.

After a few days of picking and irritating, this night watching fireworks at Epcot found them back to normal. Some Disney die-hards would say, “It’s the magic,” but I know better. This momma’s heart was grateful.

889. something had changed in one of my children’s heart

890. tomorrow would be a better day

It’s hard for me to go into my kid’s rooms sometimes. The messes begin to fill my mind with clutter- and condemnation. I have to breathe deep and pray it away. A week or so ago as I was digging CANDY wrapper out of BED covers and tossing the bazillionth microscopic Lego piece into the bin, I was low enough to see this. His church-- complete with "Faith in Action" banners and a really fun "Kids Zone". I saw an altar, pews and a center aisle-- and a boy admiring his daddy. I left Whoppers under his pillow.

This one may be more difficult to see but we have been watching a miniseries on the first olympics {the rebirth in 1896}. In this scene, you see the royalty watching the platform ceremonies in front of the track hurdles. The guy in the red “do-rag” is the Irishman who always wore his little hat.

890. Brighton’s playtime creations

I always feel a night is complete if we have all been on the couch at the same time-- preferably talking or reading. Why? I don’t know but our kids love it and ask for it any night we are all at home.

891. couch time with my family-- at what point will we not all fit??

I can’t help but laugh when I am startled by scenes like this. It took me aback-- like I was back at DisneyWorld in a floating boat of some kind.

892. dolls still scattered about {Again, I must wonder, how much longer?}

What is it about kids and the kitchen? They love it, especially if you let them have something with an “on/off” switch. We got busy freezing Thanksgiving food before we left for sunny Florida. Brighton enjoyed his first time running the hand mixer and being in charge of the beaters afterwards. Lick. Lick. But my favorite thing about this picture is his hair. He woke up like this and never once thought about combing it. This particular “fluff” is mild but characteristic of him.

893. that he still needs a stool~ and help with his hair

894. that he doesn’t mind the camera

It’s hard for me to believe she is capable of just about anything in the kitchen. She delights in helping. She can even cook and compose poetry at the same time.

Oh onion, oh onion, you make me want to cry.

Oh onion, oh onion, let us say goodbye.

895. that she made the dressing this year

After the mornings turn cool, when I can’t find him, I know where to look. Julia, Brighton and I benefit from these morning rituals-- we have no idea.

896. that he leads us quietly and boldly

We do live in 2011 with our faces down, looking at our little 2x5 screens. As much as I fight it, my kids can navigate almost any cyber device they come in contact with. Here’s the upside-- finding notes like this. That IS urgent news if you ask me. And I can even appreciate her creative spelling of “unbraking” because I see God NEVER putting on the brakes when it comes to His love. It just blindsides us and runs us all over. Whether I mess up or not...

897. grace upon grace from my children

Mr. Disney had a terrific idea. I am a huge fan as of last week. My favorite thing I learned while in the magical theme park was that the WHOLE idea of Disneyland/DisneyWorld came from his Saturdays with his daughters. Taking his girls out was a Saturday morning tradition and there were some weekends he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. And one day a brilliant idea popped into his head and thanks to grandparents, we all enjoyed his dream last week.

898. the gift of time and energy and lots and lots of fun from my parents-- and the fact they didn’t want miss out on a thing

This castle “wow-ed” me so. I don’t remember it a bit from when I was a child. Maybe it was the night time, Christmas-time adornment but I could not photograph it enough. But this I remembered at every turn......

899. childhood memories

Life hardly gets sweeter than to have special people in your home-- I might should say EXTRA special people. Brighton says she must be famous because of all the people that came to see her. I assured him that she was. Mrs. Summey-- my mentor since college. I say “my”-- multitudes of others can say the same. She filled our home with her love and wisdom and her laughter which Brighton told her he really liked.

900. Mrs. Summey and her cot story

A country roadblock

I love the country. We were here yesterday just for a bit. The wind was cold on the open fields and the drizzle just put a little bite to it. Julia was the photographer yesterday and I love what she saw.

901. that His Word tells me the path of righteousness leads to LIFE and because of what Jesus did, that righteousness is now mine.

Our story is not finished. I can hope Julia and Brighton are just getting started~ at the beginning of a whole lot of life to live. God gets to see the WHOLE, for He knew before the foundation of the world, but me~ I only get to see parts. I don’t know where He’s taking us or what He’ll use in our continued sanctification, but I know I want to fully live in each pericope knowing that day by day we are making the WHOLE of what He’s given us.

2011-11-15T21:42:00.003-06:00

885. Wide-eyed here.

886. And grateful to Julia and Brighton’s Nanna and Papa.

A Little History: It does a body good.

2011-11-08T14:33:00.006-06:00

If an invitation came along, without any thought of us, Julia would pack up her most treasured belongings in her suitcase before we could say, “We’ll miss you!” and move to Dallas Heritage Village. As long as we promised to visit. Jeff and I often say that she was born in the wrong time period. She’d pick an afternoon at the antique store over just about anything. It’s reflected in the books she chooses for her free reading, the costumes she picks for dress up events, and the scenarios she makes up in playing with friends. Exactly. What’s not to love about that? Maybe she’ll ask for a horse and buggy for her sixteenth birthday.

Maybe not.

Even Brighton has a little soft spot for the “back then” as he uses the term... way too loosely...as in referring to my childhood. A few weeks ago, he came downstairs with a book in hand. It was one on Pearl Harbor that I had picked up from the library sale one year. He was distressed. He had the cover open pointing to the words, “Withdrawn from the [such and such school] library”. “Why, Momma? Why would they take this out of their library?? Those kids need to know about this stuff. This is really important!!"

We’ve been to Dallas Heritage Village every year since Julia was in and it’s our favorite field trip. Easy. I always describe it as a miniature Williamsburg-- like so mini that you can see it in a couple of hours but oh so worth it! They have different programs and activities going on all through the year. I remember when it was election year, the “citizens” of the Village were in the middle of the election too for that time period. As we visited their homes, we heard everyone’s opinions and arguments. I think they call it a living museum. I won’t go into all of it here because their website will do it just fine. The craziest part is that it is right in the hub bub of Dallas. You will see a skyscraper or two in the background of pictures. It’s worth the trip.

Learning the medicinal qualities of plants

Somewhat different than a Wednesday night at Walgreens. My Daddy, whose pharmacy practice is pushing 50, said, "NO THANKS!"

A Spectrometer

Trying out the Morse Code-- proving to be quite tricky

Something so simple causing such delight

My favorite house on the property

Resident potter’s handiwork

Forging a “courting candle"

Dreaming

General Store

The General Store has baskets with lists of items for which you can shop. Julia was eager to please the storekeeper and use her money wisely. She would have shopped every basket had we let her. For Jeff, this will be his picture of Julia at 9 years old. He loved watching her.

Can’t make it to Williamsburg this year? Or next? Drive the 45 minutes to Dallas Heritage Village. Pack a picnic, blanket, camera, and some “slow down” potion and enjoy a little history. It’s good stuff.

2011-11-08T14:00:00.003-06:00

869. November

870. the kids’ nature journals

871. turtlenecks

872. Friday morning parenting pep talk

873. discovering a book I wish I’d read years ago

874. two generations of believers sharing a meal

875. rye grass

876. Saturday morning~ leftover fire and a quiet house

877. being reminded of where to put the majority of my energy- trusting Him and enjoying His Presence

878. time to be creative

879. Skype~ full of surprises from Nanna and Papa

880. pulling out the suitcases

881. forgiveness

882. celebrating friends

883. really fun possibilities on the horizon

884. God’s history of long faithfulness to my family

Locks and Keys {Here’s my Heart Part II}

2011-11-01T15:22:00.001-05:00

Spring 1991

Every lock has some sort of key. If a key has been lost for some time, it could be a celebration when it finally turns up and other times, it could be a sight that causes fear and trembling. Maybe the scariest thing you’ve seen in a long time. Because locks are for keeping things out of reach. Hidden.

I’ve always put myself “out there” better with ink than I have with voicing my words. In the moment, I find the words hard to come by. I have thoughts~ later, sometimes much later~ but trying to speak one during the conversation is like trying to pull out one coat hanger from a pile of many. It takes time, patience and persistence and often is just too tangled up with other thoughts, I just can’t get it out and it hardly seems worth the effort. And sometimes it’s scary and sometimes painful and I cannot muster up the courage.

Until the summer of 1990 I had been comfortable and content to keep my thoughts to myself. It was what I had known.

Enter Jeff on a hot June Sunday afternoon.

We were both counselors at a youth camp. Besides thinking he was one of the most handsome guys I had ever seen, after just a couple of days of talking to him, I found out his heart was purer than most any one I had ever known. I remember being drawn to his understanding of grace {something I had been stingy with} but what caught my attention even more is that he was interested in MY thoughts. Diligently interested in them. He pursued them. He wanted them to come out of my head-- like through my mouth, preferably taking the inconvenient route through my heart. Yikes. Those pathways had not been traveled for quite some time~ especially the route that went through my heart. Oh, I had the emotions behind my thoughts but most of the time, I just kept them with me. That was the easier way~ for me~and no one had challenged me otherwise. Most people didn’t know that sort of challenge was needed. I didn’t even know. Interestingly enough, it was one of the first things my future husband noticed and pursued.

We’ve been married 19 years and speaking my most personal thoughts has functioned as a weak muscle for most of those years, consistently strained from exercise and Jeff will tell you, sometimes it just quits. Jeff has been patient in leading me and has never given up on finding out what rolls around in my head and takes root in my heart. The happiness, the hurt, the funny, the irritating, the sacred, the sad, and the feelings that are still tangled up like those coat hangers. It matters to him and he knows how valuable my putting words to what is going on in my heart is. For me. For him. For my children.

Julia and I had some time together last Thursday night and as we were driving, she was reading Brighton’s birthday letter on my phone. When she read my friends’ sweet comments, she wanted to leave a comment. Between making sure she got her words spelled correctly, she mentioned missing him~ even though she had just hugged him goodbye half an hour earlier. I didn’t think much of it.

Then her voice through tears interrupted my thoughts which were about the tail lights in front of me. Deep stuff. “Mom, I just don’t think Brighton knows how much I really love him.” More sobs. I grabbed her hand and assured her he does. “Oh, no, Mom. He can’t. I get so frustrated with him. He just doesn’t know how much I love him. I feel like I cannot express it because he’s always aggravating me and I am mad. But, Mom, I love him so much and I want him to know it!. I don’t think he knows how much I love him.” As I listened to her and wondered, was there an air vent from our room to hers? I hear those same words from my own pillow several nights a week. Surely she can’t hear me. Julia was visibly distressed. This very thing had bothered her before. I understood. Completely. I saw her communicating with me on a level that’s normal for most, I guess and I thanked God for how healthy it was. It was my turn and I did my best, putting my heart out there, so she would feel we had connected. And it was a conversation in I-35W NORTH traffic I won’t soon forget. Victory for me? You bet.

Over these 19 years, I’ve had choices to make. Keys to find. I’ve gotten some right but mostly wrong. There is a lot of sin mixed into locking in your thoughts and emotions. Fear, control, pride. Need I say more? Isn’t that yucky enough? And that is where the grace comes in. God’s grace. Oh, how would we even breathe without it? I still have default locks, like those automatic locks with the keypad. Knee jerks. The ones you never even think about. The door shuts and the door just locks. And I don’t even know it’s locked... until someone tries to come in. And there’s my choice. To get the key invites relationship, life, friendship, trust, closeness, and love. To not~ well, all things opposite.

A year ago or so, Jeff and I had a conversation about my family needing, wanting my heart, not all that I could do for them, but my heartfelt emotion and expressions of love. Well, I consider this part II. This is some of what giving them my heart looks like. Jeff’s leadership in this has changed everything in my little world. I am so grateful he’s knocked all these years. Jiggled on all the locks. He’s taught me books of things but this one........ this one is big. Bigger than us. As it changes our marriage we can only hope our kids will flourish in it and take it with them.

And get this I read the other night:

“O Divine Love, who dost everlasting stand outside the closed doors of the souls of men, knocking ever and again, wilt Thou not now give me grace to throw open all my soul’s doors? Tonight let every bolt and bar be drawn that has hitherto robbed my life of air and light and love.” John Baillie (A Diary of Private Prayer) Day 14 evening

Incredible.

All this time, my husband was only a stand in for the One who loves me with an everlasting love and has faithfully pursued me ALL MY LIFE. To Him be the glory.

2011-11-01T14:37:00.005-05:00

~~850~~. that Game 7 is over (I am not going to count that but oh. my. goodness. Misery.)

850. times like this for Jeff and Brighton

His body took care of all the junk food approximately 12 hours later. And he turns green at the mention of “honeybuns."

Yes, they are camping, in a galaxy far far away. You’ve just never camped with Jeff.

851. hydrocortisone for poison ivy~ again

852. that Julia communicates like her Daddy

853. celebrating significant days in her life

At the Italian Inn with all its GRAFFITI! {thus the note she left under the table glass}

854. these ladies who love my family~ God’s grace

855. letters from Alyssa and Emily to affirm Julia’s faith {treasures to keep}

856. leaves falling

857. messages from my nephew

858. being trusted by a friend

859. ending with a win!!

860. packages from Blake

861. that he thought he looked like Luke Skywalker- Jedi something (Lego guys aren’t very detailed)

862. how Julia lights up with excitement all dressed up

863. neighbors

864. kids turning school day around {will ALWAYS record this!}

865. celebrating with Pastor Cole

866. ordered closets

867. Jeff’s 20 years of knocking

868. keys

2011-10-25T14:46:00.003-05:00

834. first fire

835. the girl who surprises me with these

836. finding someone to work Christmas for me {!!!!!}

837. Fair Day

838. Jeff’s fair skills

839. his smile

840. how the Lord spoke here ten years ago {our altar picture}

841. seeing Raj and Colleen follow the calling the Lord has placed on their lives, challenging me in every way

842. B’s baseball games with happy endings

843. Maria’s mochas at Panera

844. time with friends that love Jeff and me

845. loud, happy kid sounds outside in the night

846. getting to do this with friends

847. getting caramel icing right in just one batch

848. birthday excitement from him

849. that we’ve had EIGHT birthdays with him~ thank You.

Brighton’s Birthday Letter 2011: Eight Years Ago

2011-10-24T23:27:00.001-05:00

Eight years ago, just 24 hours before your birth, I didn’t even have your crib put together. You didn’t even have a room. It was still your Daddy’s office. I knew about you, but I wasn’t thinking I’d get to meet you for another three or four weeks. Then, I didn’t realize you’d fill my days with surprises and keep me guessing daily. When we got the call that you were on your way, we dropped everything~ even Julia, into the care of a friend.

Eight years ago, I was a nervous wreck getting to be a helper during your birth. Then, I didn’t realize getting to be an integral part of your entry into this world would truly be the most awesome event I have ever experienced. Eight years ago, I had no words at 1:45 in the morning. Nothing~nothing~ prepares a person for that. God’s ways often leave us speechless. And I was. Then, I had no idea how many times God would use you to leave me without words.

Eight years ago, we anticipated a baby boy and as your Daddy likes to say, “You were just a little peanut.” Your 5lb 5oz little self stole my heart in an instant and then, I had no way of knowing you’d do that at least twice a week.

Eight years ago, we only had a girl and we’d only had her for twenty one months. From the beginning, I found you different, even in the way you settled in my arms. Then, I had no idea you’d want to be in them even more than she did.

You’ve been stomping out your own path since those first seconds I saw you, needing a little special attention even before I could cut the cord. You’ve hit milestones in your own sweet time, being sure not to conform to what any of us expected. These may have been the only times in your life you weren’t in a hurry. Even though you’ve stuck close to your sister all these years, you’ve always had strong opinions about what the two of you would do. You make up your own instructions to Lego creations, you find people that no one is talking with, you make up your own music and you’ve even been known to question the math solution manual. That trail you blaze can be a blessing or it can create parenting challenges. You keep us on our toes~ or maybe on our knees.

It’s a store- in motion- with lots of things to sell.

That path your cutting narrowed considerably this year on January 16th when you put your trust in Christ Jesus. I’ll always remember the struggle of the afternoon and the way you thought it through with paper and pencil. Your words about a “bandit” was fitting and convicting. Without Christ, we are all bandits. That day, you became a follower of Jesus and our brother in Christ. Now, the four of us are “working out our salvation” together. We are all learning together that narrow path we all chose leads to the glorious freedom of wide open spaces where the “boundaries have fallen for [us] in pleasant places”.

Besides your making the most significant decision in your life, the other thing I will remember about this year is how you’ve moved towards your Daddy. He must be one of your first thoughts when you wake up because you ask, quite often, “Is Daddy still here?” Your desire to be with him and to identify with him has grown, as it should. Almost more than anything else, it thrills me to see the two of you together and enjoying each other. The more time you spend with your Daddy, the better off you will be. I promise.

This is also the year your bed got a bit more crowded. Your love for all the furry animals with you grew exponentially. You’ve always preferred to have things in the bed with you but this year is a marker for sure. I still don’t know how you sleep in that tiny space.

You are growing up. I found you asleep on Julia’s window seat the other night and I couldn’t help but notice how long you’ve become~ your feet, your frame, your fingers. It’s all happened faster than I tried to prepare myself for. You’ve matured as a student this year, grasping concepts quicker than last year and able to work diligently for longer periods of time. You have matured as a teammate and player, following your coaches and Daddy’s suggestions on how to improve your skills. Your piano skills are increasing and even though reading music isn’t your most favorite thing to do, you can do it. You “ear play” a whole concert of songs now and I love to hear you note by note figuring them out. I have a feeling that one day you will fill this house with wonderful music.

Your little tongue hasn’t slowed down a bit. You keep me grinning, sometimes outwardly and sometimes to myself. I cannot keep record of all your “Brighton-isms”, but here is a collection for when I had the brain power to remember and write them down somewhere. The words you put together speak volumes of your unique personality.

On Sonic drinks left in the car-- “Mom!! My coke doesn’t taste bad! God is SO good to me.”

On memories- “You mean the birthday I smushed cake in my face? The one I got Brighton bear? The one I just sat in that high chair?”

On word forms - “amazed-er”

On money- “Spend it.”

Meet Happy Jack

On grades- “I’ve made even worser grades than that.”

On hard physical labor- “I was just getting a snack for me and my friend and we were going to talk.”

On notes from teachers- “She doesn’t really mean that, “You’re the best”. Her kids and grandkids are the best to her.”

On school- “Julia, it’s not the list that is helping our school year go better, it’s us. We were BAD last year.”

On body parts- “You know, Mom, knees are really useful things.”

On home-- “I love this place.”

On Frosted Mini Wheats in snack drawer--“Oh, I love these! These are WONDERFUL!!”

On excitement- “My legs are just trembling. I look down and they are not moving. They just have excitement inside of them!!"

On me- “I love seeing your face.”, “You’re just a teddy bear.” and “Mom, I loved you even before I met you.”

On any given day- “What are we going to do that’s fun today?”

On talking to God-- “Never tell God He is a loser. He doesn’t like that.”

On chocolate- “I’m a big fan.”

On adoption- “God put me in her tummy but He knew I’d be your kid.”

On making CD’s- “Can you fire me a CD with Star Wars music?”

On my cooking- “Mom, you get all the instructions on food right!”

On life span- “We don’t live long, do we? It’s good to live to 70 and some people get to keep going.”

On racing- “I wasn’t racing. I was just running.”

On why you don’t want to lose permanent teeth- “Because God only made 2 packs of teeth.”

On Indian saris- “I bet it was made in China.”

On Jeff- “Where’s Daddy?”, “What time will Daddy be home?”

On vomiting- ““Mom, I am thankful for all the things you have ever done for me. This is a very serious time.”

On having a stuffy nose- “I woke up with this at 5am and now it’s 9:13pm. Still the same.”

On the Great Depression- “Mom, remind me what fell again? You know, crashed on top of all those people?”

On crying- “Look, Dad I’m happy and I’m not crying. I just about started to cry but I gave up on it.”

And that is just a few..... As I have said before, when you are awake, there is no shifting of my brain into neutral.

There is one sentence you spoke to me this year that I cannot forget~ for your sake or for mine. Who puts these thoughts into your mind? When do you think about such things?

With arms around me, “I can’t be strong, brave, or courageous without the love of my Momma.”

Something had happened with the boys playing in the cul de sac and we were talking about bravery and courage at my desk. I reminded you of how many times in your life you’d face situations that would require bravery from you and how, only with the Spirit’s help, would you ever be able to deliver. And that is when you said it. I know my role is changing with you. Eight years ago, my role was simple. Then, I had no idea how much it would change and how it will continue to change drastically over the coming years. I don’t like change, even normal change, right change, healthy change but I promise not to forget what you said and I will do my part, joyfully and wholeheartedly.

Eight years ago. I loved you then, I love you now.

Goodbye Seven! Hello Eight!

All That Time

2011-10-18T14:21:00.006-05:00

One afternoon last week, the kids and I sat down to read. We were in between chapter books so I had chosen two wordy picture books I had gotten from the ~glorious~ library. Henry Aaron’s Dream and Mary and Her Little Lamb. Yes, one book from Mars, the other from Venus~ or something like that. After educating B on the great Hank Aaron, we all got the news flash that Mary and her little lamb really existed! The nursery rhyme is actually a true story. My preschool teachers were holding out on me. {Will Moses is the author and illustrator~ delightfully Americana in every way.} The extra text of Mary’s story took a ride on B’s brain waves. As we read we discovered that the reason Mary had a lamb to take to school was that its mother “turned her away”. I know it’s an animal but that instinct always makes me a little sad. I paused and reminded them that animals were not made in God’s image so a mother lamb acts only out of instinct, not love or hate. I was about to go on and I heard B on my right shoulder say, “Some Moms do.” In seconds, I wondered what books we had read or any movie they might have seen that prompted the comment and then I realized. I turned on the animation, dropped the book, waved my hands for effect, “Whoa, boy. I am not exactly sure where you are going with that but that ‘s not at ALL what happened to you or Julia. Not even close. You both know that.” I went on repeating things I have said a thousand times before about how much they were/are loved and even though God knew us, their birthmothers didn’t, at first, but as they searched and searched for parents who would love the babies in their wombs deeply and thoroughly, He led them straight to us. Those precious girls nailed it.

Julia never moved. She remained molded to my left side. Content.

Brighton pushed forward and said, “Wait, wait! I think I get it. God put me in her tummy and ALL THAT TIME He knew, I’d be your kid???” “Yes, B”. “So, okay, I’ve got it. I was in her tummy, but I’m your kid.” “Yes, B. That’s it. God knew that before any of us did.” He settled back down on my right side and I felt his cheek swell, grin growing on my shoulder. We finished the book. And Brighton had tied up the loose ends on his runaway brain waves.

And just to keep you in the loop on the cutting edge products at your local library..... ; )

Ever checked out CD’s for your kids to listen to only to hear them agonizing verbally from their rooms in the middle of CD #3, just when the plot thickens? Oh. So. Many. Times.

No more, I tell you. They have figured it out. The new fangled thing is called “Playaway”.

Each unit is an mp3 version of the book. They come in DVD size cases with a AAA battery for you to use. Give your kids their favorite headphones and you have frustration FREE listening. They have chapter books as well. The picture book playaways have several stories on each unit.

I don’t keep up with much that is cutting edge~ too complicated, but the library, I can handle.

2011-10-18T13:57:00.004-05:00

817. friends staying late at the ball field

818. RAIN

819. kids turning their morning around

820. grace words spoken over me

821. one day vacation

822. Julia’s joy in making dessert and our delight in eating it!

823. keeping surprises a secret

824. my children loving my ~~wrinkles~~ fine lines

825. finding his growing frame on her window seat fast alseep

826. friends showering grace on bride to be

827. seeing my kids having fun

828. letters from Jeff

829. that, then, I had the camera close by and wasn’t off looking for his little pants

830. quiet Saturday morning

831. opportunities for this

832. these sewing girls- this class and, oh, that teacher!

833. ALL THAT TIME I couldn’t get pregnant and practiced waiting on God’s best

Repairing What Matters Most

2011-10-11T17:32:00.001-05:00

A couple of months ago, we became the owners of an “in need of refurbishing" upright piano. When it was delivered, it wasn’t fully repaired, thus not tuned, so as the kids played it, keys would fall and Brighton would find notes that sounded the same {D and E flat were identical and so on} hindering his fun in plucking out the latest tune filling his head. Something on the inside was deteriorating and other things were just out of whack. The company we purchased it from has made several trips to our side of town to make it perform and sound like.... well, a piano.

At least twice, the young men who have worked on the piano have found new problems on the old piece. The last time they came out, they took the whole thing apart and discovered they didn’t have a part they really needed. They said they could get it and come back the very next day but it actually took more like 5 days. The picture in the study was disturbing. The keys were spread out on the hearth. All the inner workings of the instrument were exposed causing temptation to 7 year old boy hands. Every time I passed by the room, I saw critical pieces out of place, delicate workings uncovered from protection and absolutely useless where they had been laid. But then they knew with certainty, our piano was broken.

It happens to us too, you know. To families, to churches, to marriages, to friendships and even within ourselves. Relationships are a blessing, a gift. We were created to be in fellowship with others. God created us to love and serve each other in marriage, in families, in churches and in friendships. In doing this, sometimes critical pieces are knocked out of place, some mechanism breaks down causing some malfunction, some pain. We knee jerk ~whatever that may look like for you~ and the relationship stops “working”. What once was lovely and a conduit of pleasure becomes in need of repair on the inside. And that’s not fun. The repairing part. Something inside breaks and whatever caused it needs to be faced. Hurt hurts. And we do everything we can NOT to experience it or even acknowledge it. No need to list all of our dysfunctional ways of protection because each of ours is different. They don’t work. Ever. Facing it means to open it all up, to bare the inside that we so desperately want to keep hidden. To speak of our inner workings, our most ingrained thought patterns reveals more than we ever dared to bare. But day after day, year after year, it’s our choice. And time is not our friend. Our cover over the disrepair can last for years, but eventually the wear and tear shows itself. On the outside. And things as critical as keys on a piano fall. The picture is always disturbing. And we have to do something.

What will that be?

When our piano keys started falling apart, I didn’t call a foodie at Central Market and I certainly didn’t try to open the instrument up and take a look myself. Ludicrous. Thankfully, with every new year or different season of marriage, parenting and friendships, I am finding one thing always is the same. God’s ways work. Praise the Lord. They WORK. So why do I waste so much time thinking or hoping something else will? When we ask Him for the Truth and seek it, He’s sure to deliver.

And guess what?

The Truth sets us FREE! FREE from all the disrepair. FREE from all of our wondering and guessing. FREE from all the hurt that only hurts and bears no fruit. FREE from the pride that fosters the disrepair. FREE from all of our coping ways-- the endless downward spiral in which so many of us choose to live. FREE.

I like free. I bet you do too.

In our lives, when any relationship lies broken, in need of repair, we can choose to cover it and in time, lie in a heap, useless, wasting potential or we can invite Him into the hurt with us and watch His ways work beautifully. Of course. As believers, when we finally choose vulnerability compelled by our love for someone or for our desire of healing and dare to open up, we find His Name etched on our hearts, claiming us in all our hurt. Pull all the coverings off, ask Him to do the fixing and we find His Name imprinted where it means the most. He was there all the time. He knows your “then". He was there. He knows your “now". He is here.

We are His. I am His.

And when His work is done, the music is wonderful ~ whether it be Basketball Bounce or Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.

Repaired is a lovely sound and a conduit of joy.

Praise His Name.

If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the Truth and the Truth will set you free.
John 8:31-32

2011-10-11T16:49:00.001-05:00

799. cancelled practices

800. that he wants to throw with me

801. Panera School

802. Julia’s scary symptoms turning out to be nothing

803. hearth time

804. special “news flashes” from Atlanta

805. the colors of the October sky

806. Roxaboxen with friends (founded by the Cheek girls-- we missed you!)

807. Emily~ her help, her company and ANSWERED PRAYERS!!

808. long, steady rain

809. airport “arrival” gates

810. surprises in his suitcase

811. get well notes from Mrs. Cox

812. a Monday with no tears

813. walks after dark

814. raised windows

815. reading with Jeff

816. being repaired

From the Backseat #18 "Promises"

2011-10-04T14:28:00.002-05:00

How can just leaving the house be an event? When I say “event”, I mean time needs to be budgeted for it. It’s age old, I know, but oh. my. And I only have two kids. And they can both walk. And carry things. At the same time. They can open their own door, buckle their own belts and shut, even slam, their car door. When I call out, “Let’s get in the car!” it’s like they hear this: “Take your time finishing whatever it is you’re doing and possibly try to fit in one more activity, like painting. Grab an hour’s worth of entertainment for the 10 minute ride and YES, a snack. Don’t dare grab what you really need, like piano books, baseball bag, sewing machine or even shoes!” Brighton will walk around ALL day with hair that looks electrocuted but when it’s time to walk out the door, he needs 15 minutes for defusing. When we leave, something like goo sticks to their backs pulling them back in for one more thing.

On our way out the door last week when I had not scheduled “leaving” as an event {and it had definitely earned the rank}, I had an urgent need for some chocolate. I told them to buckle up so they couldn’t be pulled back in and ran to my closet {Isn’t that where everyone keeps their chocolate?}. In a moment of generosity, I grabbed three pieces of Doves which yielded three big smiles and thank you’s from the backseat.

As I was tediously un-foiling mine one-handedly while driving with both hands on the wheel {I would NEVER drive with my knee......... with kids in my car........desperate for chocolate. Never.}, Julia said, “Let’s read what’s on the wrapper! I’ll go first.” After reading some overused fortune cookie line like, “Be your best self”, Brighton reads, slowly, “Dove’s .............. dark .............. chocolate.” He doesn’t blink. Julia and I look at each other in the rear view mirror and decide to let it go. She thinks for a minute and then spouts.

“You know, Mom. These little sayings are helpful, but God’s word is better.”

Hmmm..... glad we got that settled.

2011-10-04T13:54:00.004-05:00

780. Jeff’s prayers for the children and for me

781. brother kisses on sister

782. sacred things

783. Truth always coming through in the end

784. an answer to her prayers

785. willing friends carrying more than one load

786. how his eyes squint like mine

787. a string of happy school days {!!!}

788. orange

789. mornings promising fall

790. her spiral curls, still there, underneath

791. shadows casting differently with the changing of the season

792. Father and son awake in the wee hours, talking of the stuff that matters

793. happy silly girls in the back of our car

794. monarch fluttering, greeting me at the front door

795. that she spends her money on books

796. watching B improve

797. “arrived safely” texts from Jeff {except they are much funnier than that}

798. His Promises

Fall Ball {don’t mind the dust...}

2011-10-04T13:46:00.002-05:00

And as I walked out of the house this morning, I spotted two more.

Now for some action:

SAFE!!

Beauty

2011-09-27T18:09:00.000-05:00

My daughter sees beauty. Her mind and heart want to express it and so I get these tiny pieces of paper from her sporadically that she refers to as “poetry” and so I read it as poetry. I understand the looking for words, the words to capture what you see only the way you can.

When she was in first grade, she gave me this slip of paper at the lake.

It is evening.

The sky is pink and orange.

It is night and all the lights are out.

Three years later, that sky is still capturing her. I got this one a couple of weeks ago.

The sun is shining,

Bright and clear;

Red and orange,

Day is here.

In her 9 years, she has seen more sunsets than sunrises, but it’s His creativity that she remembers.

In my looking for words, I sometimes see Scrabble tiles, all jumbled like on the tray in my guest room, and on rare occasion, I see words and phrases, that work in recreating the picture I see. My heart swells when I read Julia’s simplistic words, arranged in stanza, communicating a sight that isn’t forgotten~ a picture that came to mind while trying to fall asleep. She’s learning about beauty. His beauty and the life, the joy it brings as we experience it. To me, to us, beauty is big.

{The author reminiscing his childhood} He remembered as though it were but a few days ago that winter night, himself too young even to know the meaning of beauty, when he had looked up at a delicate tracery of bare black branches against the icy glittering stars: suddenly something that was, all at once, pain and longing and adoring had welled up in him, almost choking him. He had wanted to tell someone, but he had no words, inarticulate in the pain and glory. It was long afterwards that he realized that it had been his first aesthetic experience. That nameless something that had stopped his heart was BEAUTY. Even now, for him, “bare branches against the stars” was a synonym for beauty.

~ Sheldon Vanauken {Severe Mercy}

My room was on the second floor of my childhood home. Who knows how many hours, tucked into my bed, I spent staring out between the pine trees relishing the nights of seasons I could see the moon sparkling on the water? And around 11pm, the train would go by across the road and cause the water to shimmer even more. Always I notice sun or moon on the water. Anywhere. Jewels dancing and disappearing and reappearing. It’s one of those things that can’t be photographed or painted..... well. In that room, I had no words for what I saw at night. Julia sees it too. But she has words. Praise the Lord, she has words.

Another tiny piece of paper decorated in red pen:

The water looks like diamonds,

Blue and sparkly.

So pretty it shines,

With the sun.

I want to see beauty. In the ugly, in the sink, in the suffering, in the daily, in all the days before I die, the moments before I sleep. Isn’t beauty what we yearn to burn with before we die? What else so ignites, hot flame? Beauty is all that is glory and God is Beauty embodied, glory manifested. This is what I crave: I hunger for Beauty. Is that why I must keep up the hunt? When I cease the beauty hunt, is that why I begin to starve, waste away?

~ Ann Voskamp {One Thousand Gifts}

Without knowing it, I hungered for beauty when I was younger. His creative image within me carved out a place for it. He nourished me with it even when I didn’t realize I was looking for it. I notice it now~ sometimes better than others. Brother and sister deciding it’s more fun to be nice to each other and the laughter that follows. Leaves falling outside. A melody that makes me stop. Remnants of imaginations hard at work. Forests of trees. Children while they sleep. “Fall” scattered through our home. Naturally, Julia seeks it. Never does she glow more when she is out looking, experiencing and finding. His beauty gives her dreams and hopes to build upon. One of her Kindergarten dreams was to live in the woods in a log cabin and play the guitar. Because I know her, even now, that’s not so far-fetched. She’d be awfully happy. And I’d love visiting her.

What more, you may ask, do we want? Ah, but we want so much more--- something the books on aesthetics take little notice of. But the poets and the mythologies know all about it. We do not merely want to SEE beauty, though, God knows even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words-- to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become a part of it.

~ C.S. Lewis {The Weight of Glory}

I am not so “prose-y” that I get that, really. See, I am not a dreamer. To “bathe” in beauty or “to pass into it” seems a little mystical to me. But “mystical” is just other- worldly, right? And this world is not my home. Beauty that we’ve never experienced lies just on the other side. His side. Where He dwells. I can dream about passing into that and being united with Him.

In all of Julia’s looking and seeing, I want to be a part of it with her, to draw it out, her thoughts, her words about what she sees and how His beauty all around makes her feel. And in her most earnest seeking, I pray she finds the Source of all the things she sees, of all the beauty she finds. It’s Him. It’s always been Him.

One thing I ask of the Lord, this is what I seek............all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord, and to seek Him in His temple. {Psalm 27:4}

2011-09-27T16:14:00.003-05:00

762. new mercies every morning

763. park days for boys

764. Julia’s independence on the sewing machine

765. pastor’s race characterized by long-faithfulness, running even longer

767. action figures reminding me of my childhood {Is it possible to have a soft spot for a robot or is C3PO a droid? He was such the gentleman. I think his parts were made in South Georgia.}

768. Emily, who finished up the school day

769. Brighton’s good choice {finally}, making all the difference in how he plays ball

770. sussies on my doorstep

771. The Sound of Music

772. worn out books and time for creativity

773. starting a new book with Julia

774. hopeful conversations over Asian noodles

775. Monday, an antithesis of the last

776. “Mom, I don’t mind those writing assignments. I kind of like them.” {B}

777. Mom’s searching for the best over the good

778. Julia’s poetry on tiny sheets of paper

779. Beauty

Jesus and Farm Chores

2011-09-20T14:42:00.005-05:00

Well, I am needing me some lightness. Something other than the stuff that keeps me up at night or the things that create in me a need to meditate, to write, to think or books with paragraphs that make my brain hurt, taking half an hour to digest one page or blogs that make me question my entire existence or things that cause me to search the pantry for sugar. I ate Mambas the other day for crying out loud. Twenty years, maybe? I don’t know but a very long time. A friend spied my book, “Severe Mercy” setting next to me and put her head in her hands, doubling over like someone had just punched her in the stomach. “Are you reading that right now??” Life seems heavy right now so allow me to infuse a little helium.

We started week number five of school yesterday. After four days in Anson, planning out the school year, I said I would re-evaluate after a month. When I thought through some things on Sunday, it took all of 2 seconds for me to conclude, one some issues, that “tweaking” was a wishful thought. Tweaking just wasn’t going to cut it-- most “issues” were inbred personality traits that will take a lifetime to figure out. All three of us. But remember, I am clicking on the light side today. On to the things that are going well.

Over the last several years, I have seen people move out of our city proper and onto a “piece of land”. Contrary to what you might think, “piece” used in this context means large, not like a piece of chocolate. It is acreage. And in some cases it comes with pasture land, four legged things that need attention, creeks, barns, trails etc. We’ve seen some people acclimate perfectly and their families are thriving beautifully. And we’ve seen some people run back to Fort Worth as fast as they could find a rental near the country club while waiting for their “piece" to sell. Oh, I get it. I’ve had those thoughts too. I grew up in the country. I know how amazing it could be for our children, our family. I have lists in my head ~ the why’s and the why not’$. There is something attractive about country living, down on the farm, back to nature sort of living. The appeal to me, and I think to most, is more about my family and the hopes of experiences and memories we would have. I don’t necessarily think about all the work. All the driving. All the “I know it’s far out” when I want to have people over. All the work. All I’d say “no" to “in town”.

I digress. Again. Helium.

So Jeff thinks about this idea, the vision that people have about this living on the land, doing the farm thing and comes up with the most brilliant idea of his lifetime~ and he’s had some doozies. Good ones, but this one..... “Farm Chores”. I can’t even tell you how happy it makes me to type those two words. Even my city boy understands the pull to the country. He proposed the idea that even though we live five minutes from anything, that we do “farm chores” . Oh, girl, just wait. It’s really good. No, we don‘t have chickens to feed, rambling porches to sweep, gardens to plant or cows to milk but we do have a dog to feed, a house to dust, a yard to mow and blow, and food to prepare.

Here is what it looks like. Every morning {Monday through Friday} after the kids walk Gabriel, we meet in the mudspace where our lists hang, do a little silly thing and crank up the music. {See end of post after pictures.} I set the timer for thirty minutes and approximately two hours of work gets accomplished by all four of us working. I told you it was good. We do everything from typical house chores like dusting, emptying trash cans, cleaning bathrooms to food prep for dinner, grilling meat to freeze, honey-do tasks, cleaning outdoor furniture... and the list goes on as custom as you wish. I do feel there is a “magic bullet”, though, for every thing you try and in this case, ours is Jeff. He came up with it, he drives it and he participates. His enthusiasm makes all the difference.

This summer, about a month in, I was looking around my house, like on a random Wednesday and was shocked that the system was actually working. I even pulled back a curtain in the den to look at B’s windowsills. No dead insects. Hmm. I texted Jeff, “Farm chores have changed my life.” Jesus and farm chores.

Back to the music. I am not a singer nor a musician of any kind, but I love music and in my non musical opinion, I think music makes EVERYTHING more fun. From farm chores to road trips. Every event needs a playlist-- a GOOD playlist. For this, you’ve GOT to have fiddle music and songs that just make you happy. So here are my favorites from our “Farm Chores” playlist.

On My Way Back to the Old Home- The Bluegrass Band Album
Home Sweet Home- The Bluegrass Band Album
Do Everything- Steven Curtis Chapman
Good Mornin’ Life- Dean Martin
Another Day, Another Dollar- Wynn Stewart
Ain’t We Got Fun!- Renee Olstead
This Will Be (An Everlasting Love)- Natalie Cole
Rockin’ Robin- Bobby Day
Come Fly With Me- Michael Buble
We Are Family- Sister Sledge

My city boy holding his own

2011-09-20T08:47:00.000-05:00

743. skipping rope

744. birthday surprises, from home, from across town, from Georgia

745. kids measuring each other on tippy toes

746. my sister-in-law, Tricia

747. “I love seeing your face every morning.” (B)

748. sleeping an hour later on my birthday and waking up to B picking out “Happy Birthday” on the piano

749. being celebrated by Jeff

750. pumpkins

751. her joy displayed in helping me at home

752. colors only He could have imagined

753. friends, willing to enter in

754. silly under the table hair {school?? this and #757 have nothing to do with the other.....}

755. young women in my den speaking from their hearts and from the depths to which God has already taken them

756. time for an evening picnic {in between the stuff}

757. quiet night after school day tanked

758. September 19th, One Year Bible reading {reading down memory lane~ Thank You, Father for those Words.}

759. husband, understanding what I cannot put into words

760. faking Paris, for an hour

761. farm chores {!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!}

Real

2011-09-13T14:51:00.002-05:00

Wednesday night when I returned from work, Jeff said that Julia had come down for a while after tuck in. After finding what she needed in her Daddy’s arms, a few timid questions came. Jeff, an expert in heart conversing, listened and answered compassionately and as completely as he could. Origin questions. Genetic questions. Good questions.

Thursday night after our neighbors left, she, with dishes from the table, stopped me on my way to help her and asked if she could talk with both of us. Conscious of the time, we almost put her off until morning. As the dishwasher hummed, we settled into chairs, her, wearing an old high school camp shirt of mine, curled up, not looking like the tall 9 that she is. Questions came from a tight throat and a sober face. She had a few, but her most simple question was, “Why?” Why does adoption happen? How long had she rolled those words around? How many days, months had she wondered and not asked? What prompted it? Who had been asking her questions, making her feel “funny”? Who was the friend that kept asking her the same questions, making her feel she couldn’t explain well her wondrous story? Where had she heard, “real Mom” and “real Dad”?

Long eyelashes holding back a dam, she confessed real, hard thoughts, “It’s those times when adoption doesn’t feel all that special.” Dam broke. Parents’ hearts aching.

She had gotten it out. She had come to us with what hurt. She had trusted us-- that we could handle it. We spoke freely as we always have, answering her questions matter of fact-ly and straight from our hearts, desiring to see her LIVE confidently and contentedly in her non-traditional, but absolutely planned, beginning. We pray it be so.

As she remained curled up, with a kind of resolve in her voice, though her quivering lip threatened, she said, “I am PROUD of being adopted. I just want other people to understand.”

Parents’ heart swelling. God will use this, surely. She will help other people to understand.

As she straightened out from the chair, she comes to me with one of those awkward 9 year-old-in-my-lap hugs and with these words for my ear,

“I love you, real Mom”.

She had them for Jeff too.

{Father, You hold the keys to her heart. May she sense Your Presence in all her wonderings and all her questions. I pray YOU and the influence of YOUR Word would make her paths straight as she walks these unfamiliar roads. Jeff and I trust You as You are ever present with her and all knowing about her. Thank You for her. She has been and IS a delight.}

2011-09-13T14:27:00.000-05:00

721. calls from Blake

722. the smell of cool mornings and open windows

723. a Tuesday

724. His reminders in the spinning chaos of the pharmacy

725. pseudo-Starbucks in the quiet part of the day

726. obstacle courses in the garage

727. freckles I hadn’t noticed all summer

728. husband, being invited to hunt, twice

729. hostess gifts

730. little girls’ front yard “shows”- begging parents to watch

731. walks after dark

732. gifts for which there are no words

733. field trips

734. Groupons (!!)

735. clean kids’ rooms

736. girl happy to be in curlers

737. boy happy to be in uniform

738. online history class with a real live teacher (!!!)

739. seekers, strangers, His body in my den

740. laughing from upstairs

741. having the thought, “Right now, what can I be thankful for?” {not normal}

742. that she came to us with the reality of her mind and heart

Carving Out

2011-09-06T14:45:00.001-05:00

Thursday night, as we unpacked the car and loaded down the little cabin which rests high above Eagle Mountain Lake, I thought, we’ve missed this. This summer, our family has missed this. We should’ve done this weeks ago. We’ve had lake days but no good ol’ spend the nights in the bunk beds, with the night sounds, with the critters, to the sound of the overworked a/c unit, in the close quarters, and the waking up together. The kids were packed Thursday morning before they came downstairs for breakfast. Their first question, asked several times that day, “What time will Daddy get home?” School was torturous with thoughts of the lake at the end of the day and when we finally arrived, the kids’ energy just oozed all over the country. What we usually do once a month got cut to once this summer. I don’t remember it being a deliberate decision but I guess it was. We didn’t carve out the 2 night, 3 day stay.

I ordered the book Soap Carving a month or so ago. I thought Brighton might enjoy creating something three dimensional with something other than paper and tape or Legos. And at the beginning of summer, I imagine {in a moment of delirium} that I have too much white space on my calendar squares and I will have time to do things like carving and sewing doll clothes. I carried the book around for weeks intending to look at the supply list and make that stop at Hobby Lobby, which is not on the way to the pool, nor Sonic. I don’t remember it being a deliberate decision not to stop but I guess it was. I didn’t take the time to research soap carving.

So then I resorted to that shooting the two birds with one stone thing and put the book in the box that was going to the lake.

I remembered from the Amazon reviews I read, we needed popsicle sticks and glue. Oh, and Ivory soap. After a few too many stops on our way to the lake looking for popsicle sticks, it turned out that what I had purchased either we didn’t need or I bought the wrong kind. After enjoying the lake on Friday, we loaded up and went back to Hobby Lobby. Thinking, again, I knew exactly what we needed, I headed straight to the wooden craft aisle. Thinking outside the box, Jeff meandered around looking up and down every surrounding aisle. Of course, he found something better, cooler and cheaper. And WAY easier. Wooden pottery tools. Perfect.

Anticipation had been growing all summer for the moment we would dig into those fresh bars of Ivory soap. Sitting around the painted wooden table in folding chairs with bunk beds on one side and a little kitchen counter on the other, we laid everything out. We cut out little pieces of newspaper the same size as our soap, drew simple shapes on them and cut them out. We then drew the outline of the image on the clean bar of soap with a Sharpie. Then the real fun began. Soon the room’s fragrance brought images of the home my Daddy grew up in. Ivory must have been MaMaw and PaPaw’s choice of soap. Jeff, not to be outdone by any of us, started with an owl. Julia decided on a flower. Brighton chose a tree and the only thing I thought I might could draw was a simple bird. All went pretty well. Only Brighton’s carving experience took a few turns, which didn’t surprise me in the least. He always keeps me guessing. His tree began to loose its upper limbs, so he decided on a fish {guppie}, and when the guppie started looking malnourished, it turned into a rocket. His next attempt was a cross which turned out much better especially after Jeff detailed it. Of course he did.

Three regrets:

First: that we didn’t do it outside--or at least on newspaper. Soap carvings get messy because they stick together and get INto rugs, not just on top.

Second: I somehow deleted all of our carving pictures. Yes, I know, I still have the nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach. I can remember what I saw through my lens while I heard crickets and frogs doing their nighttime things ~ the sweet little hands awkwardly holding the soap and skinny tools, the sun kissed faces in deep concentration, the little tongue peeking out from pressed lips, the mounds of shavings and the proud smiles with finished products in small hands.

Third: that we didn’t do all this sooner.

“All this” doesn’t just happen. I know that. When Jeff and I are fully present with Julia and Brighton, they are bathed in contentment and joy. It replaces any fears and insecurities they might be feeling. I believe it loosens the temptation of rebellion. It reminds them of their place in our family. It gives them the feeling of being delighted in and enjoyed. And most importantly, their hearts rest in our love as we consistently encourage them to rest in their Father’s Love and Presence. In Him, they will always find contentment and joy.

Sure, we get windows of that in our home but even then it must be carved out. Reading on the couch after dinner, carved out. Playing Sequence before bedtime, carved out. Making rock crystals, carved out. Throwing the ball with B, carved out. Supervising cookie baking, carved out. Spending two nights at the lake, carved out.

My deliberate decisions are weighty~ either way. I have to remember these empty spaces Jeff and I claim for our family can be life changing. Those chosen spaces of time together, when, by His grace, are infused with His presence, provide sure footing for them as they put one foot in front of the other on their way from childhood to adulthood.

Order the book, put Hobby Lobby on your list of errands and start carving.

2011-09-06T14:12:00.000-05:00

698, 699.........

700. blue lake totes, full of everything cabin

701. kids packing for themselves-- and what they choose to bring

702. all day-- their inside dance of excitement

703. Phil’s old boat

704. sun mixing with clouds

705. bunk beds

706. waking up together

707. Jeff’s hymn devotionals

708. cabin school

709. sun jewels dancing on the water

710. kids wearing big laughs

711. B’s courage on the wakeboard

712. seeing the last sliver

713. spider weaving its web (and the time to watch it)

714. time for RE-reading

715. sound of boats on the lake from my bed, reminding me of growing up fun

716. Rice Krispie treats

717. friends on the lake

718. how Julia always wants to find this over where her Daddy sleeps {hint: my maiden name is Dennard}

718. our identity in Him - talked out and through in our den

719. that they still love this

720. carving out time, carving out life

Calendar by Grace

2011-08-30T20:16:00.000-05:00

You get them too. They come in August--- that flurry of emails as the fall gets started and every sacrificial volunteer is looking for more sacrificial volunteers. I read them. Waves of guilt. Pounds of pressure. Visions of me, harried and spinning, then the tragic spiraling. Down. I scroll by them in my inbox for days. Commitments once a week. Once a month. Once during the entire year. Surely I could pull off the latter. With a friend? Surely. Then I take time to marvel at the sender’s capacity. I marvel a bit too long, marvel turning into comparison-- I take my “way of escape” and think about what’s for dinner.

Then the emails are, like, 3 weeks old and I’ve really drug this out. For three weeks, they’ve been floating around in my mind along with the regulars -- but having nowhere to land. Opportunities to serve~ all just keeps swirling in the cosmos. And driving me NUTS. I have to state the obvious here-- it’s ALL great stuff. I mean, saying yes to any of these emails would mean investment in kingdom work. What’s my struggle? Why can’t I click on “reply”? Why can’t I type out a chipper, “Why, sure! I’d love to help!”

And not feel suffocated by it?

Too many days later, the kids’ bedtime brings coffee time with Jeff, where perspective seems to come in large doses. Decisions and responses all WAY overdue. I scroll ~again~ and read them all to him. If computer font could fade, these are faint gray. He sips hot coffee and looks at me, “So?” I look back, “Well??” He rattles off a typical week/month of mine. {I didn’t know he knew it that well.} We talk about the big things that happen during my week, then my month and I confess I am not doing just super on those. I am aware.

A few questions we talked through and I thought through: Am I rested enough by morning in order to spend time in the Word? Is my schedule arranged in such a way that I can say “yes” to whenever Jeff needs/wants my help? Do my children feel “full” ~ are their needs met in a way that communicates, “I enjoy you”? Am I serving effectively in my church {whatever “church" may look like in the season}? Am I involved in fruitful kingdom work? Do I feel strongly led of the Lord to participate in another facet of ministry? Something I wake up thinking about?

That list may not set well with everyone and you may not like the semi-systematic approach, but there is nothing systematic about following through with the “yes’s” on that list. It’s also nothing short of supernatural. And that is precisely why I fail often. Only by His Spirit can I value saving my best energy for my family and for the ministry we have together. My flesh values a whole different set of “yes’s”. Only with the mind of Christ can I wholeheartedly carry out acts and speak words most everyone will never know about. My flesh values recognition and praise. Only works empowered and led by His Spirit bring effectiveness and fruitfulness. And I may never see any of the fruit on this side. Only His perspective can bring contentment in that. God has specific good works for only me, only for my family. {Ephesians 2:10} We miss the point if we miss our works, “which He prepared in advance for us to do."

If I am able to say “yes” to any of the questions on that list, it’s because of His power in my weakness, and His grace that is always sufficient.

When the cups were empty and the conversation had landed, I was able to return emails, look at my calendar, and feel really free.

2011-08-30T19:00:00.001-05:00

679. B’s animated oral book reports {always after tuck in}

680. gusts of wind that smell like rain

681. grandmother, mother, son

682. refurbished pianos

683. Julia playing hostess/baker to cul de sac girls

684. B’s response to the Word

685. eight Moms in my car

686. twenty dollar bills working overtime

687. women’s stories, redeemed

688. words like: “All day long I have toiled and striven; but now, in stillness of heart and in the clear light of Thine eternity, I would ponder the pattern my life has been weaving. May there fall upon me now, O God, a great sense of Thy power and Thy glory so that I may see all earthly things in their true measure.” John Baillie (Day 5)

689. room strewn with creativity

690. our den full of seekers

691. Julia’s arms laden with books before bedtime

692. cloud cover

693. friends “to go” {their little faces surprised me when I let up the front seat}

694. pancakes and prayer at Alison’s

695. siblings disguised as playmates~ today

696. pictures from around the world that bring perspective for my kids

697. calendars with room for grace

No

2011-08-23T17:30:00.001-05:00

“No” can be a little complicated, can’t it? Two letter words are supposed to be simple. “No” can either cause absolute frustration, great joy, bitter anger, long awaited relief or longer awaited disappointment. It can be your greatest disillusionment or your greatest protection.

I remember significant “no’s” in my life. We all do. Some “no’s” I received, I never should have asked the question or even sought out the opportunity. Some were responses to my plain ignorance but most were for my protection and just part of His plan to keep me in step with Him. Some were devastating at the time. Now as I look back, a few still baffle me but most I can see clearly the story the Lord was writing. I am most grateful for all those years that the pregnancy tests said “no”. I am even more grateful for the young woman who chose us to raise her child and then a month later said “no”. Those were without a doubt mine and Jeff’s best “no’s”. Because there was something else stirring...someone else waiting patiently in the wings. God’s best was there, in a state of repose until His hand revealed it. His best. Our best. His best for all of us.

This past year we’ve had three big “no’s”. We went looking for “yes’s” and they all came back “no’s”. As I have shared, we’ve been here before. I don’t like it. It’s tiring and sometimes embarrassing. It’s discouraging and utterly confusing. Some “no’s” can hurt relationships, making us second guess someone’s confidence, or tempting us to judge someone’s motivation. Some can tempt us to lose hope. And the best effect? Some send us running to our prayer closets as fast as we can.... pleading for clearer direction, retracing our steps of faith. Did we misstep? Is it the worst “no”- the one that means it’s all over? Should we never have asked in the first place? Or is this “no” just a delay? Could it be the set up for that best waiting in the next chapter of the story? Ahhh, handy hindsight. Right now, for these situations, Jeff and I don’t have that but we’ve got something better. We know God’s track record and it’s flawless.

I’ve had “no’s” fall on my hardened heart and thankfully, a soft one too. Note to self: a hardened heart is always a bad idea. When a “no” falls on my by-the-grace-of-God soft heart, a teachable one, it causes me to seek Him out more purposefully, more diligently, more desperately. I dig into the scriptures with fervency I haven’t known since the last time I was desperate and I persistently ask for the Lord to reveal the treasures in the midst of all the questions. And when I see it, it’s the most beautiful thing ever because He’s reminding me that He’s still good and that He’s still working to bring about His purposes. His Word brings life and then I can feel it all running through me. Here is some of the life He has brought these last few months.

“ 'Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. The Lord, the Lord, is my strength and my song; He has become my salvation.’ With JOY you will draw water from the wells of salvation.” Isaiah 12:2-3

"I sought the Lord and He answered me; He delivered me from all my fears. Those who look to Him are radiant; their faces are never covered in shame.” Psalm 34:4-5

"They reeled and staggered like drunken men; they were at their wits’ end. Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble, and He brought them out of their distress. He stilled the storm to a whisper; the waves of the sea were hushed. They were glad when it grew calm, and He guided them to their desired haven.” Psalm 107:27-30

And Psalm 40, “I waited patiently for the Lord; He turned to me and heard my cry.......He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord.”

And I cannot leave out Streams. God uses it. {And thanks, friend, for pointing it out to us this day.} “But God has purpose in all of His delays. 'The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord.' {Psalm 37:23} Next to this verse, in the margin of his Bible, George Mueller made this note, ‘And the STOPS too.’...... Must life be considered a failure for someone compelled to stand still, forced into inaction and required to watch the great, roaring tides of life from shore? No--- victory is then to be won by standing still and quietly waiting.”

May we stand still and wait quietly.

I feel something stirring. I know God’s best is there, in a state of repose until His hand reveals it. His best. Our best. His best for all of us.

2011-08-23T17:29:00.000-05:00

663. prayer retreat for Jeff

664. long pool day with friends and great conversations, knowing it’s one of the last

665. kids’ excitement over company

666. lake day with Brad

667. setting five places around our family table

668. sharing a meal with people of faith, being certain of what they do not see

669. buttered and toasted pound cake, another Southern delicacy {at my house anyway}

670. sitting close by Janina on our couch and hearing her stories of God

671. watching her love spill out on my children

672. grace going as long as the conversations

673. communion

674. first day of school

675. uniforms (their choice)

676. well wishing texts

677. little can-can dances in my kitchen

678. no

The Pantry

2011-08-15T21:14:00.006-05:00

Because my Momma worked for my Daddy in the drugstore most of her married life she has always had someone to help her take care of our home. For the last few years, Mary Alice has been the magic bullet. She seems to be nuclear powered in work, in life and in loving. A few years after my Grandmother, Julia, moved from the suburbs of Atlanta to Soperton, she had a stroke. In came Mary Alice into my Grandmother’s duplex. Being a thousand miles away, unfortunately, I didn’t get to see Mary Alice in action very often, but she cared tirelessly for my Grandmother, my Mom’s mother, in every way a sweet lady should be cared for. When Julia Ivey died and Mary Alice’s job {I like to call it ministry.} ended by my Grandmother’s side, my parents continued her job of housekeeping in our home--- and home has never looked the same since. She brings her wonderful Gospel music, plays it loud and does her work “as unto the Lord”.

While Blake and I were growing up, my Mom evidently had an organization system that worked. Somehow, she had an enormous ability to keep up with many people, meetings, commitments, schedules and responsibilities. She was organized but rarely made lists or kept a calendar and she certainly never owned a label maker. She had her own way of doing things-- and still does.

The last time I was home, Julia and I were setting the table and we needed napkins. I will ALWAYS look in the top drawer of the island because that’s where they lived when I lived there. I have no idea who moved them. I walked over to open the pantry. Anyone would think maybe her system stopped at that door ~ the door where the macramé Santa face with the wonderful fuzzy beard hangs at Christmas, the door by the phone, the door you hear open in any room of the house, the door you aimlessly open while talking on the phone. I don’t know, but going in the pantry to retrieve something was always a bit dreaded. You knew going in might mean you may not come out for several minutes. Shelves were stocked in deep layers and moving things around was just dangerous-- a sure way to knock things off and you just hoped it would be a sturdy can and not a glass jar. Only Momma could open the door, grab what she needed and close the door all in one motion. Her system was all hers. For the rest of us, a table of contents and a map of sorts would have been helpful. Brooms and mops were stored here along with everything else that would assist in running a great kitchen. In the alcove near the back, there were the unlined hanging baskets that held Vidalia onions and maybe potatoes. It also housed the central vacuum system and you were in for quite a start if someone in another room decided to vacuum-- or just activate it~ for spite~ Blake. This pantry was always something my Daddy took great joy in griping about-- how he could never find anything and “why don’t we ever eat any of this stuff?”. He kept his griping just below the tipping point because Momma was and is an amazing cook. Really. Daddy knew that then and he certainly knows that now.

Looking for napkins, I opened the door. As I smelled the familiar smells of a good cook’s pantry, little white tags on the dark brown shelves assaulted my vision. Had my Mom bought a label maker??!!? Surely she would have told me. SHOWN me. I looked more closely. It wasn’t her handwriting. Enter Mary Alice into my Momma’s pantry. Of course. As I looked for the stark white “napkin” label, I noticed that tomatoes were where tomatoes should be. Wow. As well as the cream of mushroom soup, fruit, pickles, salsas and so on. Wow. Wow. Wow. As I neared the bottom, I laughed out loud.

Well, I’d say, God knows.......and Momma. And now, Mary Alice.

2011-08-15T21:13:00.003-05:00

645. an atmosphere of grace

646. sweet notes from Julia found after work, found in my suitcase

647. Brighton’s strict schedules of hugs and kisses

With his road trip and bedtime buddies-- they get lots of love...

648. evidence of heart investment in my children by the sitter

649. rain-- the anticipation, the skies, the smell

650. lovely rooms, gracious waiters for big occasions

651. being treasured

652. powerful, dig in your heart, movies

653. grown granddaughter holding tightly to her grandmother’s hand

654. cupcakes

655. B’s thoughts on Aslan

656. church families

657. impromptu lesson on my camera from someone who knows

658. new parents with their babies

659. everyone in their right bed, everyone home, including Em

660. fun with my children

661. drawer full of new school supplies

662. pantries
{If the kitchen is the heart of the home, the pantry is the heart of the kitchen. Good things come from there.}

Four Days

2011-08-10T08:01:00.005-05:00

Four days? Really?

Absolutely.

Five springs ago, I met with a few other ladies at a mom’s house who had schooled at home forever it seemed. She was willing to meet with all of us rookies and give us some pointers. I am sure I came away with more than this but the one thing I remember distinctly is that she took a long planning weekend. I remember it seemed overwhelming at the time-- planning an entire school year-- but she was living proof to me it could be done.

Last weekend was mine and Jessica’s fifth year to take a long weekend to plan our school year. We’ve had an agreement from the beginning that if we were to take that kind of time away from our families that we wanted to honor them by working really hard. It wasn’t to be a restful, fun girl get-away. So every year, we go to work into crazy hours of the night but somehow in the midst of all those pages, books, late nights and calendars we manage to have a lot of fun.

Here’s the setting: Jessica’s family owns their Grandmother’s home in Anson, Texas. It is in a {mostly} quiet neighborhood and the house is decorated just as her dear Grandmother left it.

We have separate bedrooms and bathrooms. There are two big tables and plenty of room for spreading out and making the biggest mess needed in order to figure out the 32 weeks of the school year. Jessica eats better/healthier/weirder- slice that however you choose- than I do so the refrigerator has everything from celery and bell peppers to generic brand salsa and whipped cream. The laminate counter is heavy with her rice crackers and organic peanut butter or my Chex Mix, Lime flavored Tostitos and really good coffee. However, we both have a love for good ice and thankfully, Anson has a Sonic.

Our curriculums have been as different as our food choices. In all these years Jessica and I have not used one curriculum that is the same so we never talk about and plan subjects together. We certainly ask each other’s opinions and advice and we always want to see each other’s stuff-- mainly literature.

Every year its worth triples in value because now we know what helps us the most. The “plan” is important to me for many reasons and one of those is just having something at which we are aiming. I’ve never finished every little thing I set out to do and some how we always get a tad behind.

Here is what I set out to do.

It’s easier to me to work in small chunks so I break down the school year into eight 4 week sections. I figure out how many lessons of each subject need to be done in the 4 weeks to stay on track. (If I am checking our progress at 4 week intervals, it’s a whole lot easier to straighten the wagon than if I only checked in at 12 week intervals. ) I calendar all the children’s weekly activities and field trips we know about as well as family commitments, trips and visits. I organized our “line time” choosing artists, composers, Latin and Greek words, hymns, poets and their poems, and interesting places in our world that I want to cover in our 32 week year. This “elective” time is our favorite time of the day. These are the things I am learning right along with them. I make CD’s for them to listen to at night-- for fun and to re-enforce what they are learning and hearing during the day. {The iPhone voice memo feature has made this so simple because I can say/read anything, download to iTunes and burn a CD.} I make schedules for Monday through Friday because it seems almost each day is different. I make a check list for each day for both children so expectations are clear. I think it’s important to put one day away well and begin to anticipate the next day. And maybe the most beneficial thing I put together {for me} is the oh so helpful chore list! All four of us work together before Jeff leaves for work and with four working for thirty or so minutes, it’s amazing what can get done! Jeff has named it “farm chores” even though we don’t live anywhere near a farm. On our 5-minutes-from-anything-except-a-farm cul de sac, my bango music playlist and brushing our Golden Retriever is about as “farm” as we get.

Getting to work this long and hard is such a gift to me- and to my family- during the year. It helps me to breathe easier not only now but months from now. When I have thought through the weeks and months and gotten what I can on paper and filed away, ready and waiting for its turn, in maybe week 19, I can rest in my mind. I can focus on my family. I don’t have some long school to do list bouncing around in my head. The rubber ball of school has been secured safely in a few files in my computer and in my filing drawers. {Not to say the ball doesn’t bounce out a few times during the year reminding me I missed some important things.}

Maybe the hardest part for me is that once all the work is done, I have to choose to hold these plans loosely. My personality is to push through and get it done. I like completion and checks in all the boxes. I like to know that we can close up that book and know there is nothing left in it that we need to do. But if in my pushing through we miss His plans for us that day, we’ve missed everything. Putting aside my agenda, if only for a small slice of the day, has to be an option-- everyday. Did I mention that was hard for me? I have to remember that the only failure is not listening to Him.

School planning~ four days.

By wisdom a house is built, and through understanding it is established; through knowledge its rooms are filled with rare and beautiful treasures. Proverbs 24: 3-4

Wisdom, understanding and knowledge~ a lifetime.

2011-08-09T23:28:00.000-05:00

626. flowers from Jeff

627. kids who think I am great anyway

628. Rachel- so grateful for girls like this one who love Jesus WAY more than she loves my kids

629. pharmacy remodel after 15 years

630. the truth spoken in love in order to change my life

631. heart words from son to father a thousand miles away

632. Grandmother homes left in the family

633. easy to follow curriculum

634. phone calls from home

635. Sabbath dinners without me

636. Sonic Ice

637. blank slithers on the daily calendar

638. Jessica, my friend who thinks to ask God for everything

639. patience from a gen-X-er

640. Chinese food when you are really really hungry

641. Julia’s welcome to me- candles lit in every room

642. brother-in-laws

643. wedding anniversaries~ theirs and mine

644. time to dive into all things school

St. George 2011

2011-08-03T10:10:00.002-05:00

(Warning: The next foot or two or ten on your screen is like being cornered twenty years ago by someone who just put their vacation photo album together.)

You were warned.

Props were handy this year as we took the picture right by our boardwalk where we leave all of our beach “accessories” every afternoon. I think my favorite is RJ’s beach ball tummy!

We all got to try the paddle board this year-- thanks, Hunter!- and it was fun but the most fun thing about it was watching RJ fall off at every attempt of standing up.

I had to be snapping fast because this didn’t hold up long, but it sure was fun to watch!

These guys get up at.....

this hour (Thanks, Bill for this GREAT photo!) to come back with...

these kinds of fish for dinner. (Minus one iPhone left on the bottom of the Gulf)

In Apalachicola, at one of THESE places-- you have not LIVED until you shop with Brighton Sanders.

B’s first words when we walked up, "Hey, Mom, they repainted the place and fixed the broken shutter on top.” ??? I asked the owner and he was right.

Here is a peek inside this wonderful store.

The children’s department!

Purchasing Two Bad Ants

I love these floors!

I left this dark because I liked the silouhette. I could almost say that’s me and you almost might believe me. Wow, Hunter.

I had not been adventuresome enough to get out in the kayak-- actually my book was too good to put down-- but this particular morning when I saw the dolphins coming by I ran, pulled the kayak in the water and started paddling.

I found myself back paddling at times unsure of how close I wanted to get. Sitting that low made me feel vulnerable. Other than their startling puff of breath, it was extremely quiet at this depth. So the next picture is all I could do to express a scream of excitement! I even got to see a baby.

The next morning they came in even closer so Hunter and Brighton hopped in and paddled out. More and more dolphins surfaced and put on a show. If you can’t tell, Brighton is snug as a bug against Hunter. “A little tense” Hunter said.

There were harmless spherical jellyfish around this depth and the dolphins were actually playing with them and then eating them.

And here are my favorites of the kids...

Two different games going here-- “older folk” and “middle folk” Hand and Foot

Thanks again, Mom and Dad for this week in this house on this beach. Good stuff happens there.

2011-08-02T20:37:00.002-05:00

610. car time with my family of four

611. our families’ generosity

612. home

613. Gabe, spinning circles of happiness

614. my bed

615. lazy morning with the Psalms

616. Words, “You have made known to me the path of life; You will fill me with joy in Your Presence, with eternal pleasures at Your right hand.”

617. long talks and even longer understanding

618. Jeff’s coffee

619. toddler sounds in my house

620. children willing to give

621. friends who “get” you

622. time and permission to read fiction

623. her love of home

624. his persistency

625. pictures that capture more than I could ever write

Trying Again

2011-07-30T19:38:00.004-05:00

I found an email I sent to Jeff last July when I was out of town planning for school. Here’s a snippet.

I really am asking the Lord for this to be our best school year yet- I trust Him. Jessica and I are talking through lots. We experience much of the same dynamic different as we are. It IS a big job and there IS lots to cover but we know there is a better way to do it than we have done in the past. When we look at the material to cover and then plug it into the week, it's overwhelming wondering how in the world and even more so HOW do we make this fun??? Because our oldest kids are indeed OLDER, the days of being finished by noon are over unless we want to have a 'crack the whip' morning. We have come up with some good plans/strategies as we have read other materials and talked them through. I am mostly encouraged but a little nervous about carrying it all out. Again, as I said at the beginning, I trust God to help.
Thanks for letting me be here. I hope you sense it is worth it, not just for school but for our family as a whole. I do. Absolutely.
Ok- have another great day. I am excited about mine.

Honestly, it was hard to read. Next weekend, I will go to plan for 2011-2012. Today, right now, I am lacking the “zip” I need to plan for 2nd and 4th grade. My head wants to be thankful for summer, but I feel like I have missed a month somewhere. Does August really come after July?? Apparently so. This time next week I will be surrounded by curriculums, notebooks, sticky notes, work books, chapter books and hopefully my favorite snacks and several empty coffee cups. I will plan 9 months of school days and right now, I am needing some drive, some excitement. Something.

Reading the note I wrote to Jeff made me a little sad. I hardly felt last year was “our best school year yet”. Was it and the preceding 4 were even worse? I totally had “crack the whip” mornings in hopes of a little down time for everyone by mid-afternoon, only to be frustrated in the late afternoon because we were still checking, correcting math sheets or answering the knocks on the door from kids home from their school day. Before it started, the job felt big and overwhelming and packed. And the more squeezed I felt, the less fun I felt like having. Oh sure, there was SOME fun but much more could have been dished out. For sure.

So, how’s that for encouraging?? Everyone ready to home school their kids now??

Would you roll your eyes if I said, I love it? I do.....but I want it to be better! Energizing. Anticipated. Stimulating. Fun. I will always hope for that, plan for that and every year, for however long I get to do this, try again for that.

I think every Mom, home schooler or not, struggles with how her family’s days are going, how she is responding to hard situations with her kids, how she intercedes in arguments, how she reacts to her children’s behaviors (typical childhood silliness and downright disobedience), how to best protect the family calendar, and how to be pleasant, encouraging and generous when her husband comes home. For me, those are the biggies. Those are the ones that sneak into my thoughts at night when the house is quiet. I can choose condemnation and shame or I can choose forgiveness for the present and hope for the next day. I like to fall asleep with the latter on my mind.

Being together all day magnifies everyone’s faults and faults magnified are no different than a piece of string under a microscope. It’s creepy. And messy. But here is the opportunity for blessing-- seeing everyone’s mess, working through it and loving each other through it. We give and receive genuine forgiveness everyday. That’s good stuff and that’s worth whatever struggle I feel.

I read Oswald Chambers last week and I could relate to his words in a few situations in our lives right now. We tend to focus on and measure according to the goal, the end result. Walking with God focuses on the process, the journey, the dailies. The goal is important but I don’t think near as critical as HOW we got there and all the things that transpired on our way. That’s what I think was good about our 2010-2011 school year- a few minutes here, a good laugh there, obedience chosen, conversations at breakfast, hurt feelings soothed, arguments settled, books relished. Our dailies weren’t always pretty, but there were great moments-- moments I am counting on to shape not only their lives, but their next day. MY next day.

I will continue to trust the Lord as I plan once again to educate Julia and Brighton in these rooms-- that He is in the detailed workings of this process, with us in all the rabbit trails this journey takes and speaking to me regularly regarding the dailies of our home.

Just as I did last year, I still have hope that THIS can be the best school year yet. (That is, if I can get some better pencils.)

2011-07-26T11:39:00.002-05:00

591. kids catching waves, grins riding in front

592. hushpuppies fried right

593. kites

594. kayaks

595. dolphins

596. palm trees mingling with pine trees

597. Southern delicacies-- peach ice cream

598. jelly fish that don’t sting

599. them- enjoying each other (how it does a Momma’s heart good)

600. beach clouds

St. George- the old bridge

Santa Rosa Beach

601. that he always looks for my camera

602. beach at night

603. sacrificial hospitality-- thanks, Phil and Barbara!

604. Julie’s way of eating ice cream (click!)

Our smallest “sundae" lost her cherry... and wasn’t quite sure what to do about that.

605. old discoveries new again

606. hermit crabs

607. strangers

608. cousins!!!

St. George Crew

Santa Rosa Crew

609. anticipating next year

Leaving St. George

We’re Here!!!

2011-07-19T19:15:00.000-05:00

Vacation is a gift, especially when you are with seventeen other people you enjoy so much! No surprise, but we are having a ball.

Sitting in my spot on Monday, I looked up and saw this.

And it reminded me of this. {Julia’s first year on St. George.} Unbelievable.