being green

the boys

2012-01-03T12:10:00.000-08:00

What a gift it is, this little hiatus from all our norms of work, school and early mornings. We went to one of our favorite places,the Nature Center. I love watching it change through the seasons but there is something so peaceful about it in the dead of winter when colors are dulled and trees are bare and delicate.
I love taking pictures. I love how it helps me see things and helps fleeting times linger. I love the light in Harper's eyes when he sees his brother. Already this precious brother relationship is forming. Juden is so gentle and adoring of our baby, eager to help him stand and watch every new thing he learns.
These days I am reflective of what has grown in our hearts during Advent and Christmas. I'm thankful for each day and the mercy I am shown. I'm overwhelmed by the beauty of these dear ones God gave me. And I'm eager for a brand new year full of hope, promise, growth and new goals. Some list making is on the horizon but for today I am being still in the joy that is bigger than the hard work of raising littles, grace in how quickly children forgive when I make mistakes. I'm resting in that thing which grows in the midst of sleepy looks exchanged in the middle of the night with a crying baby between us. I'm reveling in the simple beautiful prayer uttered by a child that has almost brought me to tears with obstinacy. I am drinking in this whole lovely exhausting season of nursing babe and sleepless nights, mud on clean floors, endless questions, constant laughter, not enough lap space and not enough hands and all the tender chaos of living and loving together.
I've always been a dreamer but when I stop to really look, this is more lovely than them all.

Christmas

2012-01-01T12:36:00.000-08:00

‎"Looking through my bedroom window, out into the moonlight and the unending smoke-colored snow, I could see the lights in the windows of all the other houses on our hill and hear the music rising from them up the long, steadily falling night. I turned the gas down, I got into bed. I said some words to the close and holy darkness and then I slept."
~ Dylan Thomas~

It's hard to believe Christmas has come and gone already. There was no snow to wake to this year but it was a lovely day none the less. It was busier than I would have liked it to be. But that's okay, I am still learning to quiet some things, and embrace some others. I'm not so concerned about a picture-perfect holiday as I am about what is happening in our hearts. Are we learning to love deeper? Are we looking to the needs of others? We are learning, becoming, hopefully changing, always. Here are a few of the precious things I'd like to remember from this year:
*Creating some of the magic I remember for my children.
*Watching Harper discover lights and rejoicing in his life added to our family this year.
* Family movie nights by the fire.
*Christmas morning breakfast feasts.
* Watching our children act out the story of Jesus being born while a blanket-headed Ella tried to wrestle Harper into laying in her arms and saying, "You have to be still, you are the Son of God."
* Having a house filled with music and fresh green everywhere.
* Candle light reading and worship each night, drawing our thoughts always back to He who is coming again.
* Watching Juden marching through the trees in front of a line of siblings and cousins quoting A Child's Christmas in Wales.
* Hand made cards from my loves.
* Watching my brother snuggled with our children reading a poem my dad read to us.

Wherever you were this Christmas I hope it was filled with peace and light.

Molasses cookies

2011-12-17T19:52:00.000-08:00

The other day I made my Nanny's recipe for molasses cookies with Naya. I can still remember my little grandmom making them with me when I was little. She made them every year at Christmas. Christmas has a way of making you miss loved ones. It brought me joy though to watch my tiny girl in her slippers and apron carefully rolling the sticky dough. They are delish.
My to-do list has a way of slipping away with Naya around. Something about her boundless energy and sweet brown eyes. She's a tough one to say no to. But we do read lots of books, color, bake and make Harper laugh which is lots more fun anyway.

Nanny's Molasses Cookies
3/4 cups of butter
1 cup of sugar
1/4 cup of a molasses
1 egg
2 teaspoon baking soda
2 cups of flour
1/2 teaspoon of cloves
1/2 teaspoon of ginger
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon of salt
Melt butter over low heat, let cool, add sugar molasses and egg- beat well.
In a separate bowl sift together flour, soda, cloves, ginger, cinnamon and salt- add to the first mix. Mix well and chill the dough for about a 1/2 hour. Form into 1 inch balls and "walk through the snow" or roll them in granulated sugar. Bake on a cookie sheet at 375 degrees for about 8 minutes. I actually bake mine for about 6 minutes since I like them chewy. Enjoy.

what's blooming

2011-12-17T19:49:00.000-08:00

reposted Dec 09

Everybody needs a garden. Okay maybe not a garden, but something that has the same effect of slowing your heart rate a little, helping you pause a minute and notice. A place an arms throw from messes that need cleaning and to-do lists, a place to sit for a few minutes with a cup of tea, to wander, to finger soft petals, to clear your head a little, to watch birds. I don't suppose I'm the only one that feels a sense of guilt at times for just sitting still for a few moments. Surely there is something I should be doing, and there always is.

"Is it an ocean of grace? Or an ocean of regrets.
Are we what we do? Or how we feel.
Or something different, something in between, something the size and shape of the perfect smooth rock that you close your hand around, just to feel its weight.

I am learning to be silent, to silence the seething within with patience and gentleness....
Gentleness is a great gift. I will ask for it and wield it in my house, with my family, spread it on my table like a cloth, throw it on the walls like a bucket of water, so it runs down and covers all of our mistakes...

And then I will wrap it around the small stone that I have in my hand, like a blanket."~ Rae

You can read it in its entirety here.I think about things in pictures and I love the way she strings together her thoughts. God is teaching me more about how closely connected love and gentleness are. How very humbling at times.

So back to my garden;I have noticed I find myself there just about every afternoon at about three having a cup of tea (my British daddy would smile). Up until last week I was amazed at the color that was hanging on despite the dropping temperatures and autumn winds... marigolds,zinnias and roses. Their deep pinks and oranges shining bright against a wash of tangled dying vines. And then last weekend, December brought our first snow of the year. A fresh white blanket stilled the landscape thrilling the children and taking with it the last of the blooms. But there are things quietly blooming in our hearts in this precious season of advent. I am seeing the tiny seeds planted slowly and over time starting to sprout. Sometimes in thoughtful questions, sometimes in simple little prayers that make make me catch my breath and bring tears.

Like the other night when Juden's prayer was this,

"Dear Jesus,
Thank you for all you give us. We love you. And someday we won't need the sun and the moon anymore because you will be all of our light. I'm sorry that you had to die on the cross for my sins. We know that you love us.
Amen"

lights

2011-12-16T11:37:00.001-08:00

December

2011-12-16T10:21:00.000-08:00

"Light your candles quietly, such candles as you possess, wherever you are."

There is a quietness starting to settle over me. A mindfulness to turn my eyes toward the milky winter skies filled with the barren tangled arms of trees. There is a need to hush some of the cacophony of the season a bit and reflect. There is this longing that comes with worship during Advent. This miracle that still brings a tremble upon uttering, that He who formed the galaxies with words, made himself low, put on skin. It was all for love...a love that has completely undone me. That in the mess that is my ragged, broken heart, He has come to dwell. So I remember He who came as a babe and long for Him who will come again to crush all darkness, disease and pain. That manger King who came into the stench and dirt will make all things new.

2011-12-15T06:09:00.000-08:00

Thanks for the words friends. This pendant is one of my favorites of the Picasso mother and child pieces. I am happy to be sending this pendant to Leah. She's a brand new mama living in Bangkok. Send you're thoughts and prayers her way as she is currently undergoing treatment for breast cancer with a new born.

Hands for Hope giveaway*

2011-12-12T12:07:00.001-08:00

The above mother and child charm is one my favorites of these handmade glass pendants. Just leave me a comment and I will randomly choose a winner and send it to you. It's a lovely gift, I think.

Hands for Hope group recently had our annual sale at a local street festival here and it was a huge blessing. Sunshine, good conversations and lots of sales!! This is a talented group of women who sell their handmade goods and donate all profits to support the Chattanooga based non-profit 1040 Connections. They work to prevent and help women who are or will be caught in the sex trade in India. Here are some pictures form the sale, the link to 1040 Connections and our FB page.
http://www.1040connections.org/
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Hands-for-Hope/168747496496120

"Let us SPEAK to the injustices in our world.Let us MOVE the mountains of fear and intimidation."Let us SHOUT down the walls that separate and divide. Let us FILL the Earth with the fragrance of Love."

i like street art

2011-11-10T12:40:00.000-08:00

I do. I love the color, the feel, and the art it adds to the everyday. When I see an old building that looks tired and ordinary and someone makes it their canvas, it's like a little redemption. What's used up, dirty and old is made new and bright. Here are some scenes from around my town.

(above mural by local fine artist Shaun LaRose)

I like my town.

The above picture is not my town but how pretty is that?
Check out this page.http://www.streetartutopia.com/?p=2014

soft

2011-11-08T06:31:00.001-08:00

So thankful for this little bear...he knows our faces, he makes us laugh constantly, he's altogether precious...our little joy bringer.

2011-11-08T05:31:00.000-08:00

reposted November 09

Today I wandered with my three little ones through the graveyard. The sky was a pensive bluish-grey that leaves you with a feeling maybe a storm is near. The wind was sending what's left on the trees sailing toward earth. There is something peaceful about graveyards. Perhaps a sense of perspective comes as you walk past names, dates, history, so many stories, so many dreams. Of all those stories there are some things that you know bond them all, life, love, friendships, brokenness, dysfunction, desires, hope. I feel so very small and a strong sense of the brevity of it all. It's changed though, everything has changed since five years ago today, when I buried my dad. There was a time when he was my strong hero.. doesn't every little girl want her dad to be her hero? We spent sunny afternoons catching sunnies and he hammered nails in mason jars so I could catch fireflies. He was gentle,rugged and invincible. Then one day he was old, frail, vulnerable and dying. He needed help in ways I wasn't ready to have to help him. I found myself sitting in front of him in his wheel chair. He held his paralyzed hand and I tried to help him finish a painting. Golden light came soft through the window of that Autumn day. I saw a sorrow in my father's eyes I had never seen before. It tore at my soul and it was then that I joined the the family of the wounded. It was not that he lacked faith, for he knew where he was going. It's just that life doesn't always fit into our tidy theology. In his eyes I saw a man who feasted on the stuff of life to his very core, the scent of the earth in his hands as he gardened, the poetry of clouds, the faces of his five children and the faces of the little ones he would never meet... he missed it all...even while he was still here. And I could see it in his beautiful ocean gray eyes. I put my cheek on his and went back to mixing oil paints through tear-filled eyes, while he looked at the canvas with a vision that was slipping away. I'm not sure what compelled me to write this afternoon. It is not a place I go to often but it is real, raw and human and it changed me. And surely there are those memories and pictures in my head that are painful and sacred and beautiful and I keep them locked up tight like a treasure trove, so that they remain untouched, unchanged by the light and air. So, what am I thankful for? I am thankful for my dad, for everything he was and everything he now is. I am thankful for the healing that God has given me and for the wound that with its bearing allows me to see others' wounds and have compassion. I am thankful for my Savior who will put an end to all death and disease. I'm thankful that my dad is home and enjoying life of which all the beauty he knew here was merely a glimmer. I am thankful for the history and the story I carry with me.

"Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
In the moon that is always rising,
Nor that riding to sleep
I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea."

part of Fern Hill
by Dylan Thomas

today

2011-11-07T09:45:00.000-08:00

reposted from November 08

Autumn is my favorite season but it also seems that my mind goes involuntarily back to the last days I spent with my dad while he was dying. Our last conversations, the last thing I fed him, the last songs I sang for him,the last time I heard him laugh, his sadness, his worship and the rapid disintegration of his dignity. I don't really want to go back to those end days so I try to not let myself.

There is so much I love about the Fall only intensified by my desire to share it with my children. So we spend our days outside, on walks, collecting treasure, throwing rocks in the water, we try to take our work and play outside to soak up every last drop of the fleeting daylight. There has been healing and these Autumn days have been quite magical really. Do you ever pass a place where the golden light is so surreal you just want to lie there all day?

Today however I knew it would be hard not to remember that four years ago today I held his hand and watched him die. I wanted to be outside with my family on this pristine day, much like that day four years ago. So we drove a little ways to a mountain to hike and escape for awhile. As we drove I watched the trees, their colors as thick as oil paint and the notes of this song penetrating my soul.Definitely worth taking a minute to listen. Suddenly the way the leaves spun and swirled across the road from the truck in front of us like sunlit sparks from a fire seemed to be in unison with the lilting melody and the memories of him. I was overwhelmed with how purely glorious the sights and sounds of aliveness are. I let the quiet tears fall into the reflection in the window and let myself go back there for a few moments.

The other day I was walking with the kids at the Nature Center and Juden was asking all sorts of questions like why we were always outside lately and what happens in the Fall. I told him that Autumn would go by quickly and that once it gets cold the leaves turn colors and they die and the trees are all bare. He looked very sad and said, "mommy, I don't want the leaves to die and turn back into soil." So I tried to explain the natural process of life and death in nature and that the leaves die and replenish the earth to make room for new life in the Spring. But they get to turn all the colors of flames and shine their brightest before they die, the best I could do in four year old terms. I looked around at the sun shining through deep yellows and red and thought of how my dad seemed renewed and like the truest version of himself right before his journey ended.
I have a little matchbox which reads,"Life is no brief candle to me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I've got hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible..." G.B. Shaw
My dad made his life shine brightly in a million ways and I like to think I am continuing some small aspect of the burning.

Grief can take on so many faces. There is the grief which causes momentary sighs of melancholy and there is the grief that torments your dreams at night and wakes you sweating and gasping for air, grief that makes you wonder when you will have a tearless day. I have experienced both, and once you have stood alongside a grave where your loved one lies, you are never really the same. But four years later I can testify to God's power of healing. There is a void that can not be filled at holidays and in family pictures and in all of our hearts but I can see now, God's tender mercies and I trust in His perfect plan.

there's a fire down here

2011-11-04T09:32:00.000-07:00

Some very talented folks from our church made this video about the community where we worship to help them get a grant and they won! I thought I'd pass it along because it's a little piece of beauty.

pumpkin carving

2011-11-03T07:32:00.000-07:00

Saturday we had our pumpkin carving brunch at my brothers house. It's just 5 minutes further from downtown than our house but it feels like the country with open space, chickens and mountain views. We added Harper and Luke this year and next year we'll add a tiny new Paul to the family gatherings. Babies fought for Nana's lap. There were Radio Flyer rides and plenty of pumpkins to go around. My brothers will always be my little brothers but I love seeing them in their own homes with their families, all grown up. Scott, with his tall wellies on, always working with his hands. It always makes me smile because I know my dad would be proud.

Louis sharing some tea with Aunt Trish (and baby Paul).

today

2011-11-02T11:57:00.001-07:00

"Bind my wandering heart to thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love;
here's my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above."

My goodness it's November already. The three hours of sleep I got last night is catching up to me. So many things I've yet to write about but time tumbles forward and I'm lagging a little these days. Always little people needing me, things left half done or not done...trying to keep this train running. Life at the moment is so full of good things and hard things but mostly good. The temperature dropped recently and every tree and mountain side is splashed in color. It's breathtaking. It never ever gets old. It's my favorite season when the sky line is draped in flame colors and golden. It's the season I fell in love with Josh. A season that swells with life and color and then fades into brown and fills the sky with tree silhouette lace. The smell is wet leaves and fire and nostalgia. The soundtrack shifts to Rosie Thomas, Album Leaf, Harvest Moon, Yann Tierson and The Cinematic Orchestra. The Fall is always a bittersweet time; a time of remembering some people I've loved and lost.

Two weeks ago today, someone in our mama community died suddenly of a heart attack. One minute she was folding laundry, home-schooling her girls, cuddling her three year old and twenty four hours later she was gone from this earth. She left behind a husband and five daughters. The oldest is sixteen and the youngest is three. She was a doula. She loved babies and helping women bring them into the world safely and peacefully. Most importantly she was a Jesus lover. She was a friend of my husband's and we had several mutual friends. It shook me and our community. Even though she's home with Jesus, my heart broke for five little girls without a mother and for a missing that doesn't leave.
It's funny how everything we're rushing around doing seems so very important to us at the time. I wonder why we so often feel so untouchable and in control. It was a harsh reminder that in a blink, this life on earth is done but that an eternal kingdom awaits. How glorious. Our family prayed for hers and I felt myself want to hold my kids a little longer. It reminded me to tell people what they mean to me.
I think there's a theme to what God is teaching me lately. I am trying to learn how to lose my life and find it in Christ. "This" is not all there is. It is not about my agenda, my desires, my stuff, my comfort or my ease. I don't need more "me" time or more material stuff. I don't need to seize the day, I need to let go of it. I don't need to try to make my plans work, I need to surrender the day to Him who holds me. I want Jesus to have his way in my heart. I want His love to overflow to whoever he puts in front of me. I need to rest in the joy of finding ways to serve those around me. My Spirit is willing but my flesh is weak. I look back on my day and wish I'd held my tongue when I didn't, and accomplished more. I think about my children, these paradoxical creatures, one moment achingly innocent and compassionate and in the next moment chaotic, selfish and infuriating. But when I look at them I see myself...and all of us really. We are all vessels of madness, rage, love, purity and beauty. I'm being reminded as I watch this season unfold, that he is making all things new, even me.

Tonight I'll step over toys and books and kiss my kids goodnight. I'll watch them sleep and not worry about all that's left undone. There's far more to be thankful for that makes the worries pale in comparison. Even when we're short on order, patience, time and energy there is always more than enough love to go around.
My cup runneth over...

trick or treat goodness

2011-11-01T17:55:00.000-07:00

apple picking

2011-10-13T18:05:00.000-07:00

A few weekends ago we took our annual trip to Mercier's Orchard. Some of my very best memories of Autumn where trekking through apples orchards with my family, riding high on my dad's shoulders, the perfect place to pick from. We'd stuff our cheeks with the tangy apples and cider doughnuts and come home with plenty to make pies with. It's one thing I love about being a mama; getting to relive it with my littles.
Around here everything is mostly still green but the air is getting cooler and we are just starting to see little splashes of color on the tops of the trees. The start of my favorite season never gets old and this year I have a whole new love to share it with.

His wings

2011-10-12T19:26:00.000-07:00

This day last week I was sitting in the out-patient surgery wing of the children's hospital. It is a hard place to be...waiting, praying, worrying. Jude has had digestive problems for the last year. We had been to natural doctors, general doctors and a specialist, without resolution. After a frightening episode last week it was time for a deeper look. There is nothing that will shake a parent's heart more than fearing for the health of their child. We were on our knees crying out to God for healing for Juden. Our girls laid their hands on him and prayed over him. I felt weak, needy and anxious. I watched him sleep and prayed the way a fearful mother prays...it was a crying out really, of soul and body. God reminded me that even with the immensity of my love for Jude, He loves Him infinitely more than I ever could. I am in awe that this is how my Father loves me. How can it be?
Juden missed some school, giving me some extra time to be with him. We read and played with Harper and took walks enjoying the early Fall air. It's amazing to learn from my boy about the faith of a child. I write this for two reasons. One; I want to remember Juden's heart and two; because when Jesus visits,I want to tell about it. I can not keep silent. I read Psalms to him while the morning sun drenched the wooden floors where we sat. We watched the day wake up together and greeted the day talking to Jesus. At one point when I was reading I looked up and saw a tear on his cheek. I asked what was wrong and he said he could feel that God was with him. How our God loves to meet with children. I felt a sense of peace wash over me at his words. Sometimes it's hard to trust; hard to come before God and ask boldly for what we want. I've prayed in earnest before and the answer has been no. There is a comfort in knowing that I am clay in His perfect strong hands even in the midst of painful things.
At one doctor's appointment I looked down and noticed that Juden had on a strand of leather with beads he had made at vacation Bible school earlier that year. The colored beads are to help symbolize the story of the gospel. He said he wore it to remind him that Jesus was his protector. It was also the only thing he wanted to take when we went to the hospital. It made my heart swell that He knows who His stronghold is. Later I would watch him wake up and sleepily tell the nurse what each bead meant to him; one of those moments I will forever treasure.

Although I had a deep sense of peace, seeing him lie there, in the sterile environment of the hospital looking slight and vulnerable was hard. It brought up fear and anxiety at what we would be facing. I am so very thankful that the doctor found exactly what I had prayed for. Not only did God relieve what was causing his problems but there was no sign of anything harmful in his body. We are thrilled with good news but also thankful that though the week was filled with sleeplessness, fear and worry it was also filled with moments of brokenness which birthed precious times of worship and prayer as a family when His presence covered us like wings.

morning & home

2011-09-16T06:07:00.000-07:00

I love the stillness of this...

The Deep End from Kelly Lacy on Vimeo.

letters

2011-09-13T07:24:00.000-07:00

Dear Joshua Caleb,
Sometimes I watch you from the window playing and laughing with our kids and I see your boy child come out in your Papa self and I fall in love with you all over again.
Some days you are troubled and you question where you are on the journey and if the direction you are going is the right one. I am your fellow sojourner while we are here and wherever God takes you, I will be by your side. As long as Jesus chooses your destination you can be at peace.
Some mornings when you think I am still asleep, I watch you limp through pain waking up. It makes my heart ache and I wish I could take the pain away. But I have seen God bring a softness and compassion to you through it. Pain can do that to a person.
You have walked with me through my dark and wounded places and your fierce love has lightened my burden. I am so thankful you were there.
There is something wild and unconventional in you but also strong and unwavering.You bring a gentle strength to the chaos in our house at times. You are a carrier of joy and your laughter is infectious.
I love how you still bring me flowers and cook me breakfast. You know I've been a sucker for your long curls for years but that new shaved head you're rockin'... so sexy. You are my one and only, darling.
Linda

Dear Post-baby body,
I admit, I've been treating you wrong. I kind of cringe when I pass a mirror and I'm more critical of you than I would ever be of anyone else. I'm sorry I'm so hard on you and I want to start listening to my husband, who reminds me that every scar, bulge, mark and extra pound are a small price to pay for our babies. He tells me everyday that I'm beautiful. You have been a strong safe place that enveloped the tiny cells that then grew and were knit into these incredible wild little creatures. Amazing! I promise to start talking to you like I would talk to my own precious daughters or anyone who is feeling less than the stupidly narrow standards our culture puts on women. I'm going to look away from things that make me feel like S*&#.
I'm going to start saying this to you more ;
"I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Wonderful are Your works, And my soul knows it very well." ~Psalm 139:14

and this;

"Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body," (1 Cor. 6:19-20).

I don't think I've said it much but, thank you for nurturing five lives inside of you and making milk to nurse four of my children. Thank you for the ability to run with my kids, dance with my husband and a million other things.
Even though I've been hatin' on you, I really like you a whole lot and I want you to be the healthiest version of yourself so... no more sugar or grains, at least for the next 21 days, kay? I know, I know, but you can do it! You'll thank me later.
Love,
me
(baby Naya)

Dear September,
I am so happy you're here and that you are showing hints of my favorite season more and more. That cool morning air is delicious. I can't wait for leaves and fires and sweaters and strolls under a banner of colors.

the first four months

2011-09-09T19:29:00.000-07:00

These first four precious months with you have gone by so fast, baby. You are changing every day. It's been a tired, messy, chaotic, tender and beautiful time. There are days I feel like I need a cook, a house keeper, or a wet nurse or maybe all three. It seems there is always someone who needs me and a long list at the end of my days of things I "should" have done. But God holds us, sustaining us and growing us together. I wouldn't trade any of it for a second.

I have loved watching the bonds between you and your brother and sisters. Night after night before you were born they would each pray for you to come out and Juden wouldn't go to sleep without kissing my belly. Now that you're here you are the star of the family. Sometimes we have to protect you from all the love your siblings want to cover you with. Juden holds you and talks to you and I am awed by his tenderness toward you and the bond that forms between brothers, even so early. Ella acts like your little mommy, putting her cheek on yours when you're sad and singing to you. And Naya too, can't get enough of your sweetness.

You are an incredibly happy little man. Your whole face lights up as soon as you see my face in the morning. You slept through the night on your own at about 10 weeks. On August the 4th, you laughed for the first time, and in that moment, all was right with the world. One week later you rolled over. It seems that every day brings changes and growth. I can hardly catch my breath. You are a joy-bringer, a little healer. You are more than precious. I love waking up to your soft hungry little self and watching the first rays stream through my window.
Here's a little picture overload. How could I resist?

baby pants

2011-09-09T10:46:00.000-07:00

A few people have asked me about Harper's pants so here is the info. I first discovered them over at Soule Mama's blog. The pattern is actually from Anna Marie Horner's book, Handmade Beginnings. My friend made the first blue pair as a gift for Harper. She also has the book so I made the tree ones with her. I love the colors and they're perfect for Fall. I LOVE these pants. They're soft and comfortable. They are reversible and they can kind of grow with the child by being cuffed or not cuffed. I'd put him in these every day if I had enough. It's all about the butt panel:)

Alewives, has a beautiful selection of fabrics but this fabric is from Quilt Home. They have a different designer on sale all the time so the prices are better and the selection is great.

You can click on the underlined words above or here are the websites~
Soule Mama blog ~http://soulemama.typepad.com/
Anna Marie Horner's Handmade Beginnings~http://www.amazon.com/dp/0470497815/?tag=soul01-20
Alewives~http://www.alewivesfabrics.com/
Quilt Home~http://quilthome.com/index.php?xyz=gaw_QH&gclid=CPfr5-fwkKsCFZYb2godUXeVyQ

(made by Laura)

summer

2011-09-02T10:00:00.000-07:00

We are squeezing the last little bit of life out of this summer. We had our annual summer trip to Lake Winnie last week and we're gearing up to camp this weekend. There is something I love about all the sweaty-faced excitement and absurdity that this outing always brings. I love riding the ferris wheel every year with my boy, eating snow-cones, and the nostalgia of summer and amusement parks. I love watching my kids get a little more daring every year. We always come home with a contented adrenaline crash from all the sensory over-load. Until next year.

Nana moved from NJ to five minutes away and we are loving it!

(summer 2011)

(summer 2010)

(summer 2009)

oh my goodness, where did this little bug go?

Love&War&the Sea in Between

2011-08-26T17:18:00.000-07:00

"I’m holding on to the hope that one day this could be made right.
I’ve been shipwrecked, and left for dead, and I have seen the darkest sights.
Everyone I’ve loved seems like a stranger in the night
But Oh my heart still burns, tells me to return, and search the fading light."
~Josh Garrels~

Speaking of my favorite things, this album which was released this summer means more to me than words can express. He has long been one of my favorites for the intricate beauty of his instrumentation but mostly for the transparency of his soul in that trembling, holy place between our raw humanity to redemption, to being made new. I love redemption stories. It's my story too, and his songs tell it over and over. I spent many nights drinking in the words to these songs through falsetto that makes one ache, strings and beats, to spoken word. I could not be more proud that my husband had the privilege of collaborating on this amazing musical offering and played the drums on several tracks. Have I mentioned lately that I'm married to the most incredible man ever?

I found a great review in Christianity Today. Here is some of what they had to say:
"Garrels isn't afraid to question life's murky mysteries: "Tempted and tried, I wondered why / The good man died, the bad man thrives / And Jesus cries because he loves 'em both" ("Farther Along"). He calls out unjust human institutions: "I was born into a system constructed for failure / It's a sinking ship manned by drunken sailors" ("The Resistance"). And he liberally draws nature metaphors and celebrates friendship, beauty, grace, and love both human and heavenly. It's hope and redemption that ultimately win the day in these epics.
In keeping with his true indie spirit, Garrels is giving away free Love & War & The Sea In-Between, along with any income it generates. "We were so provided for during the making of this album, by both God and men, that it seems appropriate to give away as freely as we received," he explains. That leaves no excuse to miss this gorgeous collection that will surely stand up as one of the year's best."
~ From Christianity Today Magazine~

This is poetry, humanity, truth, struggle and beauty put to music and it is way too good not to share. So go download the whole album for free right here: http://joshgarrels.bandcamp.com/
I think Farther Along and Ulysses are my favorites but the album is gorgeous as a unified whole.
It needs to be listened to all by itself with out distractions. My suggestion is get a blanket, headphones, find some moonlight and be blessed.

Mason Jar Music Presents... Josh Garrels from Mason Jar Music on Vimeo.

my new favorite thing

2011-08-25T19:09:00.000-07:00

I have a new favorite thing. It arrived sometime last week and I've worn it everyday since. It was a gift from the man I love and I could not have asked for a more perfect thing. Every tiny detail of it bears meaning to me. I love how the rough-edged bird charm is offset by the single delicate pearl. The text is from Song of Solomon 8:7 and was used at our wedding. "Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it."
Twelve years later and four children later, these words mean so much more to me. He's seen the scars and the flowers, the ugliness and the good and loved me anyway, unconditionally. I cannot describe the immensity of my love for my husband. It is something that has grown through our joys, pains and sorrows on this journey. It is broken and flawed but bound together by His Spirit. I love this tangible thing I put on every day that reminds me of my vows. It reminds me every day to die to myself and to look for ways to speak love to this man that was made for me, more than I even knew. I love that Harper plays with it while he nurses. I love how it looks, but it is just a thing. It's the love that it was given with that makes it a treasure to me.

It is made by The Vintage Pearl. They make beautiful hand stamped jewelry and heart-felt keepsakes and they are having a giveaway right now! Head over to their blog or you can join their facebook page for updates.

already

2011-08-11T18:57:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow Ella Bella goes to school for the first time.
Tonight we had ice cream to celebrate.
We tucked them in then I sat on the porch with Josh and watched the day fade.
I put my head on his shoulder and had a drink and let a few tears slip.

more beach pictures

2011-08-06T21:13:00.000-07:00

* beach rewind *

2011-08-06T17:35:00.000-07:00

Our beach vacation a few weeks ago truly was everything I'd hoped it would be. Josh's parents graciously took us to a lovely house in Seacrest Florida. I finally arrived there Sunday night fifteen hours after I left my mom's house in NJ. There were gorgeous beach homes, palm trees and bike cruisers everywhere. The next morning I couldn't wait to see the ocean. We wandered down straight out of bed. The beautiful blue and the warm ocean air on my face to greet the day. For some reason I always remember the first time I take my babies to the ocean. I loved dipping Harper's perfect pink toes into the great vastness. The kids, especially Juden were so excited to show him. That boy LOVES his brother. The whole time was an amazing blessing...such a break from everything ordinary and routine. It reminded me of a part of Shauna Niequist's book. She said of her families vacations,"It's all those things, and something else, the something that our family becomes when we are there. We're the best version of our family there, relaxed and connected and without agenda or schedule. We have conversations that unfold lazily and resolve over days instead of minutes. We tell stories that everyone's heard, and it doesn't bother us, because we have nothing else to do and no where else else to be. We're irresponsible, and we make up plans as we go...
We sleep hard because the roar of the waves keeps us sleeping like babies, and we wake up early, each finding our own spots to read and write and drink coffee before the mildness of the morning burns into the blaze of the day."
I love the way she puts that, and I have to agree about how meaningful this time can be in a family. With five kids and a baby in one house, mild isn't always the word I would choose to describe the mornings. Despite moments of chaos it was wonderful to be together. Here are a few of my highlights from our beach trip:
* the way our families meld and everyone just takes care of and loves everyone else's kids. I love that.
* the nightly skits by Juden and his "Grand- Artie"
* showing my baby the ocean
* listening to Juden read his grand- dad Little Bear before he went to sleep
* porch sitting, and my sis-in-law making us frozen daiquiris, and just being with her. She is just rad.
* sneaking in a late night date with my love on the bike cruisers
* making drippy castles
* flying kites on the beach
* making great big breakfasts and having them made for me:)
* the bookshop and chai breaks with the girls
* walking barefoot on the still-warm sidewalk with a restless Harper, singing him to sleep while watching the moonlight-drenched palm trees sway
* the way Mimi makes everything special, turning a rainy day into tea parties and pedicures
* going for an early morning date with Juden, riding bikes to the doughnut shop. When I smiled at him while riding he said, "Mommy, this is my rose today."
* walking down to the beach every evening when everything feels peaceful and the sky glows orange and pink... shell searching...castle building
* watching our little girls, so proud, learning to swim
* having a chance to look at this family God has built me into and how precious they are

i ♥ summer

2011-07-29T18:08:00.000-07:00

The school year is approaching fast and it will usher out irrelevant bed-times, lazy mornings snuggling in bed, and the freedom of no schedule in particular other than playing, friends, getting wet, grass, dirt and fireflies. I love having all my kids around me every day, sinking into a more laid back rhythm. They're loud, chaotic and argumentative at times but also precious and tender and growing. I've loved watching how they adore our newest one.
This summer has actually been a difficult one in a lot of ways. I've had to say some painful goodbyes to people I love. I lost my grandmother and witnessed the return of a painful condition my husband struggles with called Ankylosing Spondylitis. It is an indescribable feeling watching the one you love in severe pain. But I don't really want to talk about all that right now. God is so good carrying us through and lavishing His love on us even in the midst of the hard stuff. I'm clinging to Jesus' mercy and the beauty he spreads throughout my days, always outweighing the painful. Yesterday, Josh decided to take the day off to enjoy some of summer with us. He took us out to breakfast at one of my favorite places. Omelets and Earl Grey are a lovely way to start the day and then we headed to the lake. A quiet, shady bank with chairs, books, tubes, perfect skies, filtered sun-light, soft air on Harper's baby skin, the smell of his neck, and happy dripping children was just what my soul needed.

2011-07-20T09:15:00.000-07:00

~circa 1980~

~from July 10th~
It's Sunday morning, just after 5:00am and I am sitting in the Philadelphia airport. I have just come from my grandmother's funeral. What a truly precious soul. That familiar, sad missing is creeping around my head. It's bittersweet, the beautiful celebration in honor of her life and the empty place where she has always been. I am reminded again that we are not made for endings.
The night before the funeral we sifted through a velvet-lined suitcase of her old photos, lovely vintage cards and birth announcements, her writings, letters and her testimony(which my brother later read at her funeral). She saved everything that meant something to her. I thought,"Ah, so this is were I get it from, this need to preserve." Such a gift are these written words. I looked at the lovely cursive over stationary. It's a bit of a dying art; this pen to paper, these written letters, replaced with a sea of cyberspace musings.

There is nothing special about this moment really. My little Harper is sleeping peacefully in a blanket-nest next to me. He is all goldeny-angelic in the light of the just-rising sun. I'm at the airport five hours early so suddenly I have this little open space of time. This gift of quiet to nurse and pray and just be. The sun is starting to glare off of the pavement and the wings of the slowly moving planes getting ready for take-off. There are people rushing all around me to every corner of the earth, but I'm alone in the quiet of my thoughts drifting here and there. People are rushing everywhere, limbs burdened with baggage, furrowed brows, eyes ahead steadily moving. Someones' schedule gets disrupted which leads to angry faces and angry words. Airports are good for watching people. I feel the way Harper looks; peaceful, solitary, drifting in and out of dreams. I blink away the circle rainbows that form on eyelashes facing the sun. I wonder if I can memorize this very ordinary moment; the feel of pen over paper, the glow of the rising sun, the sound of my soul waking to my first Love.
Just a little bit ago I watched my sister, who's moving to California, hurry through security. I was right behind her but got stopped and sent back to the gate to get clearance to fly with the babe. So just like that, I got her attention and blew her a kiss. By this evening I will be on one side of the country and she will be on the other... and so the journey goes.
My heart aches.
Yesterday I said goodbye to my Nanny. What a glorious life lived, what a legacy of faith, what a large hole left in our family by her absence. I sit, I reflect and God's love surrounds me.
Soon I'll be standing on a shore showing my love the ocean, dipping Harpers' new toes in foamy waves. There's a time to be born and a time to die, but above all there is Hope.

We say, then, to anyone who is under trial, give Him time to steep the soul in His eternal truth. Go into the open air, look up into the depths of the sky, or out upon the wideness of the sea, or on the strength of the hills that is His also; or, if bound in the body, go forth in the spirit; spirit is not bound. Give Him time and, as surely as dawn follows night, there will break upon the heart a sense of certainty that cannot be shaken. --Amy Carmichael

~today~
My parents-in-law were taking my family on vacation to the beach this same week so Harper and I were flying out to join them. It was a wonderful reprieve from normal life and the timing was a gift. I'll write more about that later. When thoughts are hurried, scattered and sad, the wide world comforts me. I find so much healing in the ocean... a literal picture of depth and breadth and width, and my Father's love is deeper still. It's strange sometimes the way God meets us right where we are especially when we're hurting. He brings delight right in the middle of pain. He drops his love gifts right in front of us, even in an airport in a day of 15 hours of travel.
As I walked around the airport with Harper in the front carrier and my backpack and diaper bag, my shoulders started to ache. Harper seemed to want to stretch so I found a booth in a airport restaurant and made him a little bed next to me and sat unencumbered to have lunch.
If you've ever lost someone you love you learn that it effects everyone differently. After I lost my dad, seeing girls with their dads made me miss mine. Now after just losing my grandmother, I felt like I had a Nanny shaped hole in my heart. Who could ever fill that role in my life? She's always been there, she had prayed for me every single day. Ninety years worth of wisdom and living, the only grand-mom I've ever known. I have a void of older women present in my life. I miss her.
So, I guess it made sense that when a grandmotherly little woman walked by my booth, something in my heart perked up. "I should ask her to sit with me," I thought as she passed, but I didn't. About 30 seconds later she came up behind me and said, "Feel free to say no, dear, but would you mind if I joined you?"
Yes, please:)
It seemed that for the few of us in the airport not immersed our iPhones, Kindles, or laptops, the first question upon meeting was always, "Where do you come from and where are you going?" I chatted easily with this silver- haired grandmother named Nell. She asked me if I was close to Nanny and what she was like. She listened with kind, knowing eyes. She told me all about her background, her kids and grandkids. I told her of my grandmothers prayers for me and that if I lived to be that kind of grandmother I'd be happy. She said, "I think you will, dear, I think you will."
It was just lunch with a stranger. But also something deeper...a connection, maybe it was motherhood, maybe it was loss, or maybe just finding a friend in a stranger over lunch in an airport. In the next several hours I would be approached by two more of the sweetest most grandmotherly women, both talking to me as if we'd always known each other. What an unexpected gift of comfort. It wasn't until I said goodbye to the third one that I paused and said, thank you.

happy 4th

2011-07-04T10:14:00.000-07:00

blueberries

2011-07-02T18:14:00.000-07:00

Another thing to love about summer is blueberry picking! Blueberries for Sal by Robert McClosky has long been one of the kids favorite books. It's a sweet story of a little girl who goes blueberry picking with her mom and runs into a mama bear and her cub. Naya excitedly grabbed it yesterday because she knew we were headed to the blueberry farm. We met lots of friends there before it got too hot and filled our buckets (and our mouths). If you're local here is the link. Pack a picnic and take your family. It's a lovely way to spend the morning but you'll want to go early before the heat.

A friend shared this Blueberry Buckle recipe and it met unanimous approval from the kiddlets. Yum, especially with some fresh whipped cream on top.

SIX

2011-06-30T10:35:00.000-07:00

Time to do a little blog catching up. I am wondering with the fullness of these days if the blog will become mostly pictures for lack of time. Time to write will ebb and flow and that's just fine because it's summer and there is a whole lot of summer stuff to be done and four little people to do it with. Not to mention, stringing together coherent thoughts is trickier with lack of sleep and crazy hormones. If a few things get recorded, that's better than none and speaking of recording things,there is a certain little lady that turned six last week. You know, I always have to give a little tribute to my loves on their birthday.
To my little woman,
You are six and we are turning a new corner. This has been an amazing year. I have loved being home with my girls. I've loved being your teacher and watching you begin to sound out words and write. You loved watching my tummy grow and you act like a little mama to Harper. He knows your face and you comfort him well when he's sad. I'm proud of your nurturing spirit. You will be going to school this year and I'm going to miss you like crazy. You are a mama's girl. You don't want to leave my side and you are shy with people you don't know. But I know you will grow in so many ways. You love art, music and dancing. You are a creative soul. You are really afraid of storms, wind and clouds after we had some severe storms around here. We have memorized scripture, sung songs, roared back at thunder and studied the science of it, but still you're afraid, little one. We are trying to help navigate you through it but fear is hard and all of us struggle with it at times. The other day I was gardening in the rain and you came out to help me. You are getting braver everyday. Your current career aspiration is to be a ballet teacher. You love baking,reading, drawing rainbows, cities, bunnies and butterflies. Ella Bella, you are a delight in my days. My heart remembers days like this andthis and man, I wish it would just slow down.
May you stay your heart always on our God. May you always know your worth in his sight, my precious daughter. May you be bold and courageous in your faith. Know that wherever your journey takes you, my love will follow you. Happy six, baby.

letters

2011-06-05T11:59:00.000-07:00

Dear Harper,
I want to tell you how your name came to be. As I write this you are about one and a half months old and rocking gently in your swing next to me. You are doing that thing where you are looking intently at my face with your little furrowed brow, your eyes methodically trying to close in rhythm with the swing but you are still half awake.

How can a love so deep grow so quickly?

In the nine months before you were born I prayed and bonded and tried to get a sense of who you would be. We thought about several names for you... Micah, Solomon, Everest.. Asher...Harper. We liked them all for different reasons but we had trouble fully committing to one and agreeing on one. I was leaning toward Solomon but daddy wasn't. As the weeks rolled by I told your daddy, "He could be here any minute. We need to decide."
Some of my friends and family gave me a shower for you and during a time of prayer, one of my friends prayed that God would whisper your name to us. In my heart I prayed the same thing. A few days later daddy and I decided to have a lunch date at the park. We tried to squeeze in a few dates before you arrived. We thought we would sit in the park and talk and pray and make the decision of what we would name you. And then a strange thing happened. Daddy saw something on the ground right between his feet.
And it was this.

We looked at each other and kind of laughed. Shortly after that we decided that your name would be Harper. Harper is an English name that simply means Harp player. I loved this name for a few reasons. One, I just like how it sounds, strong and beautiful. Two, because I love the story from Samuel about David the harp player. David, a man after God's own heart, a man who recognized that he was nothing apart from the God inside him. He was a young boy who tended sheep, a humble shepherd who made music on strings. A lowly boy, tanned by the sun, smelling of meadows and lambs, playing the songs of his heart before a King. He did what so many of us try to do, spill our souls in poems and songs and art, following after the master creator. In Samuel it talks about how Saul would call on David when his spirit was troubled. The sound of David's harp would refresh his spirit, "making him well, and the distressing spirit would leave him." It's with this imagery in mind that you were named. To me Harper sounds musical and poetic. Just as Jesus tells us to speak to one another in Psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, it is my prayer for you, sweet son, that your life would be a soothing sound in God's ears, a sweet aroma in the air around Him. Oh, that you would never know a day with out Him...that the days of your life would unfurl into your very own story, in the notes of your very own song, Harper Pax.

We agreed easily on your middle name, Pax, the Latin word for peace.
~Galatians 5:22-23~
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
We're looking to our God to help us nurture in you little ones, the fruits of the Spirit, just as we pray that those same fruits will be growing in our own hearts.

With that said, I have no idea what choices you will someday make, or how our brokenness will leave you messed up and wounded. Maybe someday you'll do something that will break my heart, maybe someday you'll scare me to death. We'll disagree and fail each other, and forgive and love a thousand times over. I'll feed you and clothe you and show you the ocean. I'll read you books and poems and then teach you to read by yourself. I'll rock you at night when you can't sleep and always come when you have bad dreams. I'll tell you the names of the trees and the birds and play you all my favorite records. I'll sing to you when you're having a bad day and pray over you at night. I'll watch you grow faster than my heart will be able to catch up with and probably take a million photos. Cause you know your mama's nostalgic like that and totally hopeless and there's this need to collect the moments, need to preserve. Maybe someday we'll fight about girls or motorcycles or curfews, but we'll figure it out together with Jesus' truth covering us. But know this my son, no matter what you do someday when you are grown or what you choose to believe, I will love you just the same for the gift of grace that you are to me. You were never really mine to begin with. I'm entrusted, not entitled, to the joy you bring me. I will always be a safe place for your heart, blanketed in the prayer and love in which we gave you your name.

In the mean time you are our peach-fuzzy, pudgy-legged, stinking adorable baby and you are known by many names in this house, including, Harpie-Pie, Pax,the Harpster, Paxie, the Pax man, sugar lump, little man... oh yes, it is amazing what escapes these lips when in baby voice and in the presence of such ridiculous cuteness.

Here's a song by daddy and I set to images of your first week.

We forever love you, little man.

2011-05-30T11:47:00.000-07:00

"It is not everyday that the world arranges itself into a poem."
— Wallace Stevens

...so on the days it does, I stop to notice. These days have felt like that...perhaps more so because of coming out of a difficult patch. Our sweet babymoon bonding was definitely interrupted by the illness Josh got several days before Mother's day. He ended up being in the hospital for almost three days. He had something called Rhabdomylosis which is basically muscle deterioration brought on by working out too hard and not having enough carbs. They also thought that he was weak and fighting some kind of virus at the same time so he couldn't go near Harper. For the better part of two weeks my poor husband slept and fought a fever and tried to heal while I worried about him and tried to hold things together on my own with a brand new one. My hat is off all to all you single moms; you are amazing. I don't think I could do it. It turns out that in large families it really helps to have a functioning papa. The rhythm of our home was definitely off and exhaustion took on a whole new meaning. With that said, I am so thankful that Josh is healed and that we are adjusting to our new normal with our newest family member. The simple joy of these past few days rests in my palm like some precious pearls after the difficulties as of late.
~The sight of a mysterious little dark bird that seemed to enjoy the gentle brush of Ella's fingers,
~the morning light, sublime on his baby soft skin,
~picnics, fountains, whisper clouds, summer skin,
~late nights with garden lights and honeysuckle air, rocking a restless Harper to the soft sounds of this incredible music, drinking in the words
~ the sound of guitar strings ushering in quiet night time after the busy noise of the day
~ date night with my love looking back over twelve years of marriage and dreaming about road trips and music and who our little loves will become.

Happy anniversary love, you are my comfort and home.

sister love

2011-05-20T10:58:00.000-07:00

This is one of my favorite pictures of my sisters. Last weekend we flew my sister from NJ down here for her birthday. I haven't lived near Heather since before I left for college but our hearts are closer than ever. She's a mom of five and just an authentic, compassionate, beautiful person. Friday we got to spend the day together doing the things we would probably do all the time if we lived closer. We went out to breakfast and shared our hearts over chai while Harper slept away. Then we shopped and got stuck in my favorite store when the sky went dark and a storm came rolling in. Blue Skies is full of pretty, and inspiring things. It makes me want to create things. We talked and admired while the rain streamed down the windows, and we didn't think about how much time would pass before we saw each other again or how different our kids would look.

The five of us Riley's are rarely all in the same place so it was such a gift to spend our last night out together. I loved watching Heather love on my three-week-old. We just might have to do this for every birthday.

one month

2011-05-19T18:58:00.000-07:00

I was scurrying around sorting paper work and doing laundry when I looked down at this little face. I've figured out a couple of things since having Harper. He likes to snuggle and nurse and he does not like being put down. So he goes in the same little pouch that all my babies went in and loved, probably because it feels like being in the belly again. My hands are mostly free but it's a little harder accomplishing things with this little bundle. When I looked at his tiny face staring up at me I thought,"Hmm, I can keep going from picking up this pile of clutter to paying that bill but never quite finishing anything, or I can go stare at Harper." So the latter sounds like a lot more fun so we sit on the couch and I tell him a thousand things he doesn't understand but it doesn't matter because he looks up with those intent gray-blue newborn eyes. He knows my voice and he knows he's being loved. He curls his tiny body up into me and bobs his head on my neck looking for milk, giving me lots of open-mouth baby kisses. Memories of all my babies come rolling back. It is all so familiar; the wild little cries, the little bird legs, the trembling bottom lip, this helpless hungry creature born into love and built by the hands of an artist. It is humble and physical and human but also a masterpiece breathed by God. I wish I never needed sleep and that all of my prayers and love will follow him every day of his life. I hope that when he becomes a man they will cover him and carry him. I have had one month of knowing you, little Harper, and every moment is a gift.

Oh, and please do stop by for a chat and a cup of chai but just know if you are stepping over toys and moving laundry to find a seat, it's all Harper's fault. He's irresistible:)

mother's day

2011-05-09T18:18:00.000-07:00

This morning it's Sunday, Mother's day. Harper is a whole two and a half weeks old. We're not going to church yet with the baby. My poor husband is burning up with a fever that he's had for the past three days. So the morning is going something like this; Harper is fed, now to fix french toast and blueberries for three hungry little bears. I check Josh's temperature, still high and I put a cool cloth on his head. I really want some tea but I can't find a clean tea cup. My thoughts are disjointed going from one worry and task to the next. I check my email and realize I've missed Kindergarten pre-registration for Ella. I carry some laundry to Ella's room where I can barely walk as it seems that they've made a floor covering using every book they own. I wonder why do I keep 'doing' when I need to be resting and meditating on my Lord and what He wants from me today. I can hear the girls fighting over a fairy coloring book so I mediate that and remind them that our chore/behavior chart has a lot more sad faces than stars. I realize my shirt is half soaked in breast milk and my eyes are shadowed and heavy. I try to get a quick shower. My leg is half shaved when Harper starts to wail from his basket so now the girls are coming in trying to shove his pacifier in. The volume is rising and I'm hurrying. "It's like a bathroom party in here," Ella says.

Harper wanted to get up about every hour last night and I'm craving a little quiet. The day goes down hill from here. Josh's fever won't come down and now he is looking slightly yellow. After a small discussion we decide a trip to the ER is in order. The rhythm of our house is off with the papa out of commission and a very tired mama who has a very new baby who really just wants to nurse or snuggle all the time. We're in a funk and the kids attitudes are showing it, and so is mine. I'm pulling on my mantras, "His mercy is new... every morning."

**Back to finish this post. There may be some interrupted blogging around here for awhile.**

Later that night when kids are asleep and husband is lying in some hospital bed with his mom by his side, I sit in my garden with Harper. We sit out on the swing in the night time air with just garden lights and stars. It smells of damp earth and summer. His tiny new fingers curl around my bottom lip and his just seeing eyes look up at me, my irresistible boy all balled up like he was inside me. My heart swells with an indescribable love for this brand new life. All I can think about is that this is what it is all about...this thing of mothering. Giving birth is just a symbol of all that will follow, the growing, the breaking, the struggle bringing forth life and beauty and relationship and all that comes with it. Cooling a fevered head, mediating fights, giving, serving, messing up, snapping, saying I'm sorry, helping to shape and teach and grow. With body and soul, bleeding, feeding, loving. It is not glamorous or easy but is real, human, deep and rich and it is a gift every day that I'm entrusted with these little people. Even in my weariness I am overwhelmed by the love and the blessing. I'm so thankful for these children who have helped me become more of who I am in Christ, and have kept me humble in having a very clear view of my brokenness. And I'm so thankful for the amazing mothers in my life. Where would I be with out them?

I read this today and loved it.
"Inside the frames, the bodies, the souls of our children, reside the children still to come. And the children then still to come.
Like nestled dolls, future generations dwell within the child whose eyes I now look into, whose hands I now touch.
Every day we parent not one child, or even a few children, but every day we parent innumerable, countless children.
When I raise my voice, frustrated with a child, I speak to generations of children.
When I wipe away a tear, comfort, listen, I honor centuries of children.
When we meet our children, children we will not live to meet on this earth, are met, shaped, formed. Parented."
~Ann Voskamp~

sister love

2011-05-01T16:03:00.000-07:00

one amazing week old...

2011-04-29T12:45:00.000-07:00

"If one feels the need of something grand, something infinite, something that makes one feel aware of God, one need not go far to find it. I think that I see something deeper, more infinite, more eternal than the ocean in the expression of the eyes of a little baby when it wakes in the morning and coos or laughs because it sees the sun shining on its cradle."
~Vincent van Gogh~

It's kind of amazing what a week can hold. This time last week my little son was inside me, quietly waiting to enter the world. I was bursting at the seams, swollen, tired and had to lean all the way over to hug Josh.
I seemed to labor off and on for a few days but Tuesday it intensified. Slowly the waves of pain came harder as I tried to breathe through them focusing on helping my little one come into the world. Tears began to flow, through the rhythm of rising pains, feeling fully wrung out, clenching, and then the moments of relief between. I thought about how most everything that is sacred, and precious and of worth comes through some amount of pain or struggle. I whispered to Jesus to help me.
I thought about seeing my sons tiny face, this one whose home was my body, whose limbs I'd watched in amazement contorting my belly these last few months. And finally through tears and cries came life, wet and wriggling, sucking in his first breath of air. He was crying and strong and finally here.
I held him and called him by name and spoke love to him. Harper Pax entered the world, 9lbs and 2 oz, on April 19th at 6:00 pm and there is just joy.

He is now one amazing week old and I am in crazy love. I don't mind the lack of sleep so much, knowing that these days that he is tiny will fly. I drink in his tiny flailing hands like tiny stars, his wrinkly velvet skin, his sweet milk breath, the way he curls his body back to stretch when he's done nursing. The kids are giddy with excitement and it is such a good feeling seeing my whole little brood together. He is one very loved little man. Right now the days blend with the nights but there is magic in them.

This week has been rich and emotional and sacred. It was Easter week, a time when I remember the death of my Savior and more importantly His resurrection... it is everything my faith and life is based on. As I read to my kids from Matthew of how our gentle God remained silent when accused, surrendered himself to humiliation and death to make a way for us to come to Him, I thought about His mother as well.
This year as I looked at my beautiful new son, I thought of Mary's love for Jesus. How she stood before the the babe she nursed, the son she raised all those years,now hung bloodied on a cross. And how he spoke love to her even from the cross. With every year that passes I am more deeply aware of the magnitude of His love and of the power in his victory over death in the resurrection. Once again Journey Mama captured so much of how my heart was feeling as I meditated on Easter. Here are her words:
"I thought a lot about a meditation I guided in January. It was of Mary Magdalene at the tomb of Jesus. We dove in. It was an imagination meditation, so I encouraged the people in the circle to use all their senses, to find the scrubby bushes beside, to stand in the dust she was standing in. To feel her despair. He may have been the first person ever to see value in her, to love her. She was left unloved, without him. She had been out of her mind, before. A used-up, broken woman who talked to herself in the streets. You know the type, you've seen them. He healed her. She traveled with his followers. She stayed with Him to the end.
And she went to the tomb to prepare the body, but then her heart went crazy! He was gone. This was the absolute end of her. She only wanted to care for the broken, empty body. And it was gone.
There was a lot of running. Running to find the men, the disciples, running back to the tomb. (Cool air of the morning, sun rising in the hills.) The men saw that she was right, ran off again.
And from Mary, weeping. Despair. Anguish and the worst kind of loneliness.
I want to truly find that moment, capture it, live it, when he identified her and she knew him. After she mistook him for the gardener, all he said was her name, "Mary." And she knew him.
"Rabboni!"

Anguish to beauty. She would never be unloved again.

Although I'm sure she always had to remind herself of that. And that is what I am doing this morning in meditation. The garden, the cool of the morning. The dust under her feet, the rocks sticking out of the earth. The earth under her knees, her despair, and then Him. His face. His radiance.
In my life on this earth I have been asked so many times, why I follow Jesus. Merely stating that I do is enough reason for people to tell me why I shouldn't. They tell me of the travesties that have been done by Christians, they tell me of historical inaccuracy, of relativism, of how mistaken I am. I have loads (heaps!) of thoughts about all these things. I can talk, I can discuss, and I do.
But there is only one real reason that I follow Jesus. It is because of him. Because of his radiance, his gentle beauty, the sweetness of His WHOLE Being. My Guru, my Master. "Rabboni!" Mary said. This moment is overlooked sometimes, but is one of the most important of his whole life on earth. No other god, no other teacher compares.
Because in his most triumphant moment, finally justified as the One who could destroy death, the first thing he did was comfort a girl, a broken ex-prostitute who nobody cared about. It was the first thing he did."

**When I wrote this on Tuesday, I didn't finish adding the pictures so I'm back today after the week took a difficult turn. Wednesday our neighborhood and many other areas in the Southeast were struck with a series of some of the most violent storms and tornadoes in the history of this area. We spent the day going in and out of the bathroom, with Harper's baby bed in the bathtub for shelter. Thankfully, we and the rest of my family are safe but the devastation has been heart-breaking. Many, including some very good friends have had damage and had their homes completely destroyed. And some in nearby areas have lost loved ones as well. We're thankful for the protection of the God who calls the winds and the rains into being and also sorrowed for those suffering losses.

**Oh, and be warned there may be a whole bunch of pics of my newest cutie around here for awhile.

nesting...

2011-04-10T13:34:00.000-07:00

It may happen a little closer to delivery with number four, but none the less it happens. I have this need to have all the tiny clothes all baby fresh and folded, blankets stacked, baby bed ready for the brand new bundle. My sister-in-law gave me a lovely shower last week and it made me so excited. All of my sisters have a knack for details and making things beautiful and this did not fall short of their special touches. There was scrumptious food and little tiny bird accents on a perfect Spring day. I was overwhelmed by the love and prayers of these women for me and my unborn son. My mom shared about Christ's design for motherhood, mothers through out scripture and Jesus' own mother. What a gift to have his new life ushered in, blanketed in prayers and grace.
It's so fun to have a few new things for baby number four as well. Baby boy will stay in our room initially as it has always just been easier with nursing through the night, but he does have his own little corner. When we're ready we'll put the girls together and move him to his own room. Here's a look at some of the giftage. He's one lucky little fellow.

lovely handmade nursing cover and adorable pants and hand-stitched squirrel onesie

people wrote their prayers or verses for him on these cut out birds that now hang in his corner

his very own Amber Cooley-made gnome hat

my four little peas in a pod :)

my sister handmade these little bird books as favors for everyone

Thank you to everyone who made this so meaningful in sharing in the joy of his new life. Okay baby, I think we're ready. There are lots of loving arms awaiting you.

my nanny

2011-04-09T11:51:00.000-07:00

At the end of February I drove up with my sister to NJ to visit with my little Nanny. The above picture of my sister Amy and my grandmother Adelane, was my favorite of our time there. It somehow captures the bitter sweetness of that moment. She is 90 years old, recently had some kind of little stroke and was widowed less than three weeks before our visit. It was a very rich and emotionally full time, so worth the long drive to have a few precious days with my grandmother. We made the most of our time. We looked at pictures and her grandmother's Swedish Bible which she brought over when they immigrated; the pages now fragile and yellowed. Her mind traced back over the years. We ate ice cream and watched Lawrence Welk. We woke up early and had tea while she told about growing up with her single mom in Philadelphia and her very best friend Verna, who died at age 8 of bone cancer. Still I could hear the sadness in her voice at the thought of her. She talked about how you don't feel yourself getting old and the hardships of ageing, the loneliness as you lose people you love. I sat next to her in church and watched her wrinkled hands follow the words of the hymns. I listened to her high shaky voice sing, "One day he's coming, oh glorious day!" and "It is well with my soul." I hid the sound somewhere in my heart. I imagined what those words would mean after 90 years of living. We sat in her retirement home and looked out at the rolling hills of Pennsylvania Dutch Country. Her expression was faraway. I watched as a very old couple wandered down a dim hallway. The woman held a rose in one hand and his in the other and I watched the way they looked at each other. I felt a lump in my throat. This is a wonderful place and a sad place. It's a place where husbands and wives, sisters and friends are separated based on their medical and psychological needs; just as my grandmother eventually could no longer live with her husband. This is a place where people come in their twilight and some are just shadows of who they once were, their senses and memories fading. It's so different than my everyday, bursting with the sounds and signs of new life and youth and freshness. My heart broke a little when it was time to say goodbye. I knew full well that this may be the last time I see my little Nanny this side of heaven, but I hope it's not. I am so thankful for this tiny woman. She is 86 pounds of wisdom, experience, laughter and a towering faith. She has loved me all of my life. She is the definition of a prayer warrior and I have no doubt that her faithful prayers for me every day of my life, have kept me from many sorrows. I can only hope that someday I can look back on such a well-lived life and leave such a legacy of grace.

a long time ago, my mom, Nanny and my Aunt

This is one of her favorite hymns and mine too.

"O Love that wilt not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
that in thine ocean depths
its flow may richer, fuller be.
O Light that followest all my way,
I yield my flickering torch to thee;
my heart restores its borrowed ray,
that in thy sunshine's blaze
its day may brighter, fairer be.
O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow thru the rain,
and feel the promise is not vain,
that morn shall tearless be.
O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life's glory dead,
and from the ground there blossoms
red life that shall endless be."

sun flare

2011-03-28T19:10:00.000-07:00

"Earth's crammed with heaven, and every common bush afire with God"
~Elizabeth Browning~

I love to catch some sun flare in pictures, transforming a normal picture into something a little bit magical. We finally were lucky enough to have a few moments of sun today after a thorough soaking for the last few days. It made these little friends very happy. Spring has been beautiful around here but if you blink you could miss it. First the pear blossoms and magnolias came and went and now the red bud and roses and wisteria are starting. They are more blessings to add to the multitudes that show me His love daily.

In the wake of the disaster in Japan this month, it's a harsh reminder that we are as fragile as a bloom in Spring, there one moment and gone the next. It's nothing short of heart breaking to watch from afar the devastation on this scale. Children that lost parents, families torn apart, businesses and homes and dreams swept away in moments. May our voices go up in collective prayer for those suffering. May we open our hearts to ask for mercy and provision for our Japanese brothers and sisters. It could be our family, it could be yours. So thankful that though the earth shakes and storms come, we never leave His hands.
I thought I'd share a video made by Aradhna whom we first met several years ago at Cornerstone festival. I love how their music leads me into worship even though it is not my language. There is something transcendent in their music. Here are some of the words in English...

"Blessed are the merciful for they will be shown mercy
Praise the name of the God of Liberation!
Sing my soul, Sing my soul
Those who are poor in this world
Blessed are they, blessed are they
For the kingdom of heaven is theirs
Blessed are they, blessed are they
Praise the name of God of Salvation!
Sing my soul, Sing my soul
They who mourn in this world, will have peace
The meek in this world, will rule
Blessed are the merciful for they will be shown mercy
Those whose hearts are pure in this world will see God
Those who make peace will be called the children of God
Praise, Praise, Praise, Praise
Our Father, who is in Heaven
Holy is your name
Your kingdom come your will be done on earth as it is in heaven."

expect

2011-03-01T14:20:00.000-08:00

I suppose we will be doing a lot of expecting this month as we get closer to the arrival of the newest family member. I'm bursting at the seams and ready to meet this little acrobat, but he has a little more growing to do, to the dismay of my stomach ligaments. I smiled when I turned the calender to March this morning. How fitting to see the image of the little girl hugging the very pregnant mama with two playing in the back round. And what's more perfect to welcome March than the first snowdrops of Spring? In like a lion, out like a lamb, so they say.

You may have noticed that I added a blog list to the side-bar. I thought I'd share some of the blogging wealth and it seems like a handy way to see who has updated. I can't say I regularly keep up with all these blogs but if I have extra time these are my online happy places. These are some of my favorites for different reasons. Each one encourages, inspires, or just tells its own beautiful story. Some are women I know and love, and some are people I've never met but whose words bless me. There is such power in words for good or evil. Why not flood the Internet with all this goodness? I'll tell you a little about some of them.
My good friend Amy introduced me to Katie at some point this year and I've been hooked ever since. If you don't read this blog, you should. I actually went all the way back and read it like a book. Her story will challenge you and bring perspective. As a kid whose heroes were always Amy Carmichael and Mother Teresa, I found a new present-day hero. It's the stuff I always dreamed I'd do. We share some passions and burdens and I think that if I had some extra lives, with one of them I would join her. She lives in Uganda with her 14 adopted daughters, teaching and feeding hundreds more. Her story is incredible but what I love the most about her is her wild and passionate pursuit of Christ and how she lets His love flow through her. (p.s. You may want to turn the music player down to read this one, I always do.)
Next is Journey Mama. She and her husband are incredible photographers, she's an awesome wordsmith and she lives in India. Those things drew me in, but then I discovered a very honest, funny, beautiful spirit also pursuing our God on this journey.
Then there's Christine, who I like to think of as my online kindred spirit and fellow NJ girl. Her blog is full of lovely pictures and well-told stories of the beauty in her everyday. Her words refresh, encourage and inspire me.
I discovered Andrea over at Hula Seventy and found an instant connection in a love for words,film photography, photo-booths, color and general creativity for the artful soul. She's a bit of a creative genius.
If you have some moments to spare these are well worth a look.
That's all I have time for right now so maybe I'll add a few more later.
Happy March, friends.

2011-03-01T07:30:00.001-08:00

Betsy Holt Pierce
October 17,1925-February 28, 2011

~reposted from 2008~

A little while back we went to spend some time with Josh's little grandma. My time with her always feels bittersweet. The first time I met her she was quick to link her arm in mine and immediately made me comfortable in that grandmotherly tender way. Though I never really got close to her before she began to suffer from Alzheimer's disease.

I can say unequivocally that I hate this disease, anyone who's been touched by it can echo its devastation. There is often a look of utter confusion and fear in her eyes as she has no idea where she is or who we are. Little things we take for granted have become the most troublesome feats, like what to do with a tooth brush or a spoon. It breaks my heart to see her strain for the memories or the words. We all feel a little lost and a bit like a stranger from time to time, but to live in a constant state of disorientation, I can not imagine. So we are sure to say in loud clear voices, "Look at your beautiful grand-daughter Naya." and "so your grandson is four years old now," to help her know she is with her family.

Do we ever anticipate our body or our mind betraying us? One day do you just look down at your veins through paper-thin wrinkled skin and wonder when did this happen? Do we not feel just the same in our hearts as the years pass? With ageing comes so many endings and losses: loss of loved ones, of health, of energy, of clarity. Even with the promise of glory, and as natural as physical deterioration is, I don't think we're ever really ready for it. Our spirits weren't made for endings; they were made for eternity. It is this that makes the most natural process feel so completely un-natural and painful. I didn't mean to sound so dismal; my mind can just get lost in such things.
Betsy is certainly anything but dismal; through so much struggle she still takes so much joy in watching all her little great-grand babies. She may not know their names or gender but she laughs as she reaches for their soft hands and still has that protective mothering instinct whenever she's with them. My hilarious husband can still make her crack up with the most contagious giggle.
I watched her try to sing along as I sang hymns. But perhaps most amazing is that though the most ordinary bits of knowledge fail her she can sit down at her baby grand piano and from somewhere deep in her soul, she can play. Though they may start slow and she couldn't tell you their titles, song after song they come, "Somewhere Over the Rainbow", "New York, New York" and various other old-timey classics. She was once an accomplished classical pianist and by some measure of grace despite what she has lost, she can still remember how to play. As I watched her frail fingers grace the keys I thanked God that her passion for music was so embedded into her hard-drive that it now provides a place of peace and familiarity. How powerful music can be in that way and how much more beautiful.

2011-02-26T14:04:00.000-08:00

"There came a time when the risk it took to remain in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."
~Anais Nin~

It's one of my most favorite quotes... to find your voice and use it, no matter what the cost. It's so healing.

I was in New Jersey for a bit and returned home to the welcome sights below. Just like that, after the long cold winter the first brave daffodils burst through the browned muted earth. January Jasmine cascades down stone walls and the first fragile crocuses poke through. Silken bursts of colors bringing the hope of Spring and newness and beauty, ushering in the this new season, the one I'll meet my new little son in. It is wonderful how something so tiny and fragile can bring some joy and brightness to the day.
I'm reminded of why I started doing this blog several years ago. It's not because life is all pretty flowers and sunshine and cute things the kids do; maybe because of the opposite. It's because my heart slips and drifts to the melancholy. I've seen loss and pain. I've felt an emptiness that was desperate and hopeless. I've felt the burden of my brokenness and that of others. I've been immersed in the rawness and struggle and ugliness that comes with our humanity. I'm burdened by the pain of others. This is what compels me to seek out the beauty, capture and draw out through words those moments of beauty and blessing. When I'm open to seeing it, it is everywhere; glimmers of God's love to me shouting through my days. It is a way I worship, to glory in it, to be thankful. Gratitude becomes a deeper part of you when the lovely and true is held up against the backdrop of heartache, making it shine even brighter. There is some need in me to collect the things that lift my spirit: wordless prayers, walking in a field of goldenrod, sacred conversations with my little one, images that move me and a thousand other things.
Lately I've been face to face with struggle and pain. My heart has been heavy and I've been sent to my knees desperately seeking my Papa God whose love is unconditional, whose words are true. He is so faithful, everyday covering my days in things that draw me to worship; the promise of Spring, the sleepless nights with only the company of this little one rolling and pushing me behind this flesh wall home, the anticipation of meeting my newest little boy, my husband who loves me so well and just basically rocks my world on a regular basis. What a love gift is this man, that I never deserved.
If your heart is heavy, I highly recommend the practice of collecting blessings. It doesn't matter how; a camera, sketch book, journal, list, anything will do. Let it transform you, let God transform you. This song has encouraged me so I thought I'd share. I never leave your hands...what a promise!

"I have unanswered prayers
I have trouble I wish wasn’t there
And I have asked a thousand ways
That you would take my pain away
You would take my pain away

I am trying to understand
How to walk this weary land
Make straight the paths that crooked lie
Oh Lord, before these feet of mine
Oh Lord, before these feet of mine

When my world is shaking, heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave your hands

When you walked upon the earth
You healed the broken, lost and hurt
I know you hate to see me cry
One day you will set all things right
Yeah, one day you will set all things right

When my world is shaking, heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave your hands

Your hands that shaped the world
Are holding me
They hold me still"
~JJ Heller~

naya

2011-02-24T09:04:00.000-08:00

To Naya Faith~ on the occasion of your fourth birthday.
How are you four already? It has been a wonderful year of watching you grow and change. I can't go anywhere without being asked if you and Ella are twins. You are the exact same size. Your long golden curls make you look like such a big girl and you've got the cutest dimple in your chin. You are a free spirit, independent and strong yet sensitive. You love feeling big and working in your school book while I'm home schooling Ella. You love to dance and draw and you started your first ballet class this year. You've got a style of your own which usually includes tulle,something sparkly and cowboy boots. You seem to think mommy's favorite thing is laundry and would change clothes about five times a day if you had your way. I can almost never get you to wear pants. You've got a fiery temper and are quite the opinionated little lady. You love being with your friends and cousins but you and Ella are best buds. You can't wait for your turn to be a big sister. You can't say your R's and have a slight speech impediment which is pretty endearing. I thank God for entrusting your precious spirit with our family and can't wait to see what adventures this new year will bring for you. Three has been an amazing year, watching the gentle budding from toddler to little girl and discovering more of just who God made you. I love your laugh and your deep coffee eyes, your pouty scowl, silly sense of humor, the way you love your daddy and a million other little things. I love being your mama, my precious wild girl.

ballet party

2011-02-24T06:50:00.000-08:00

Naya hadn't really had a real birthday party before but this year she know what it was all about and exactly what she wanted. She asked for a ballet party so we pulled out tutus and music and plenty of pink and she was one happy girl. Her big cousin Meadow even taught some basic steps and positions. There's something so precious about all those round little bellies in leotards. Happy four baby girl.

i love sundays

2011-02-06T19:40:00.000-08:00

The past two Sundays have been beautiful, sunny mild respites from the freezing weeks of winter. We spent them both drinking in the vitamin D and blue skies with family. Last week we went up and hiked with my sister and family on their mountain. Through swinging bridges and Terabithia pines and pristine streams we climbed. We settled onto some rocks while all the kids scattered between trees and rocks forming armies and battles and stories of their own. Charred embers became their crayons; mud, sticks and pine cones became their building blocks. This is my favorite kind of play. Where toys aren't needed, only earth and water and sky and their endless imaginations. Ella always collects little bits of treasure where ever we go. She finds these perfect smooth stones or dried flowers. I love this about her, my little observer and treasure seeker. She runs over filling my hands with the soft, yellow silks of dandelion seeds carrying in her hands the scent of summer, so intoxicating in chilly mid-winter. I never tire of her gifts and findings.
I take them all in, Dove's soot covered face, Meadow's tiny crouched frame,like a woodland fairy, Ella's hands spilling with branches and seed pods, Juden trailing after his big cousin Oak. We return a little less clean, with something in our spirits and bodies refreshed by nature's majesty, the very best way to spend a Sunday afternoon I think.

seven

2011-02-06T18:34:00.000-08:00

~From our birthday date~

To Juden~ on the occasion of turning seven,
You asked me if you could stay home from school to have a birthday date with me just like we did last year. It wasn't a tough decision . I wanted to be with you your whole birthday too. I told you to pick a place and you said the English Tea room just like last year and then to walk around the Chattanooga Choo-Choo. This year has been a year of big changes. It's been a leap of independence going from home-schooling to first grade all day. It's changed the rhythm in our home in lots of ways. There has been alot of good things and some hard things too. You're like your daddy in that you thrive in social settings. You want your friends around you ALL of the time and sometimes you have a hard time taking no for an answer. I love your creativity and how you care about other people. You love to draw, do Legos, watch birds and listen to the Bible. That is one thing I love that hasn't changed since I home-schooled you. You draw while you listen and always beg for one more chapter. You are super affectionate and still haven't figured out that your friends laugh a little when you tell them you love them. You love when I go on field trips and come eat with you at your school. Maybe a day will come when you won't want me around but for now I'm loving how you want to introduce me to all your friends and my heart swells as I watch you blow me kisses from the cafeteria window all the way until my car pulls out.
Last year you told me you'd have a baby brother and in just a few short months you won't be my only little boy. You cannot wait to meet him and every night you make sure to give my belly a good night kiss too.
You still love Narnia and you and Daddy have read the whole series, but now you two are reading The Tracker. You love all things art and Van Gogh and still ask to play the violin so we'll see if I can find the time and money to start lessons soon. Here's to six and all its awkward tenderness, disarming vulnerablity, to all its skinned knee graces. To lessons learned over and over, to reminding me of what it means to be a child of God and how deep and wide and forgiving our Father's love is. To ceaseless energy that wears me out and drives me crazy and makes me laugh all at once. To my little man who loves with abandon, and whose smile brightens every one of my days. You are a precious gift of God to us, may you always know that.

Every year I like to write my thoughts but I'm just now getting around to posting them.

art party

2011-01-31T16:46:00.000-08:00

My little man is turning seven in just a few days. Last year when Juden turned six he asked for a Narnia party so I wasn't really planning on doing a big party this year. But when he came to me excitedly telling me all about the art party he wanted to have with a Van Gogh cake and lots of things to paint, I could not resist. I knew his art teacher daddy would help make it special and of course he did. Josh made a pin the ear on Van Gogh game (I know, what would Van Gogh have thought?) and Juden and Josh made sure they told the kids a little about who he was. Juden has been fascinated with him for quite some time. He's gotten out every book on him the library has and says he was the coolest artist ever. I wasn't sure about a Van Gogh cake but you know, you can find anything on Google. After lots of icing and food coloring he was thrilled with his starry night cake. The kids painted a mural and made pinch pots and got Van Gogh tattoos. Juden loved all of it.
January is a strange month. We were covered in ice and snow a few weeks ago but last weekend for his party it was like an early spring; plenty of sunshine, mid-sixties and no jackets needed. And less paint inside the house for mama to clean up:)
I felt so thankful for Juden's passion for art and creating, and thankful for his daddy's part in that. They love to draw together and Juden fills sketch books as fast as we give them to him. Here's a beautiful song to honor a beautiful artist. Here's to my little artist in the making.

I found this little monster ballerina under the table after the party, covered in blue making her own creations out of the leftover cake.

Storing Up Treasures: The post where I lay it all out there

2011-01-29T19:36:00.000-08:00

Storing Up Treasures: The post where I lay it all out there

January

2011-01-29T18:03:00.000-08:00

I am a little stunned to find myself at the end of January already. This month has flown by, although I seem to feel that way more and more. It's been a full and truly wintry month. We had our second big snow a few weeks ago giving both Josh and Juden another unexpected week at home. My sis-in-law had the idea to all get snowed in together. So our families and a few more friends got snowed-in, in the lovely home below and spent a few days getting kids in and out of layers, trudging around in snow, sledding and sipping cocoa. It's been a sleepy month as my belly grows and sleep is more elusive and the cold makes me want to hibernate with books and fire and my precious family. I don't suppose I'm much of a resolution maker, but I do like when the calender turns and it's a new day, a fresh start and time to set new goals and hopes. Josh and did some talking and planning and re-evaluating. I think the one goal that has been the biggest blessing has been being committed with Josh to read the whole Bible through this year. It has been so grounding and unifying to meet together in the Word, gaining strength for each day. Other reflections and hopes for the year:
Read and pray more,
Learn to say no sometimes,
Create one-on-one time with each of my kids regularly,
Have more dates with my husband,
Eat whole and fresh foods as much as possible,
Purge and simplify the house regularly,
View people the way Jesus views them,
Make a practice of hiding his Word in my heart,
Don't stress when life doesn't look like my tidy little lists,
Love people. every. single. day.

(above photo by John Hawbaker)

I thought I'd end this post by sharing another post that after reading I felt I could have written. It talks about the choices we make in our journey and respecting those that make different ones and it so resonates with me. You can check it out in the next post.

white christmas

2010-12-31T20:46:00.000-08:00

~outside~

Christmas morning we woke to a perfect blanket of snow the likes of which this area had not seen since 1965. The kids all pounced on our bed staring out the window. It was completely magical for them. Christmas was peaceful this year. We went back and forth from playing in the snow, to tea with friends, to playing new games and then dinner with my brothers little family and sitting around the fire with friends. By far my favorite part of the season though was those simple times spent in worship and anticipation with my little family. We spent most nights by the fire reading, singing and talking about the joy that is the incarnation, the hope He brought to our broken world. We collected catalogs full of Christmas presents for Jesus and let them choose which one they would work toward. This was the second year of this tradition started by Juden last year to help teach them that when we give to the "least of these" we are really giving to Jesus. Our hearts were full as we remembered the power of a baby inside a young girl who changed everything.

~inside~

December loves

2010-12-23T13:26:00.000-08:00

Here's a few of the Christmas things we've done so far. We spent the day with Mimi making a gingerbread house. Mimi loves pretty things and her house is full of them...

things that little hands want to touch, things with a story behind them...

and she bakes the best cookies ever.

We had a slumber party with the cousins and lots of sleepovers with Nana.

All the girls went to the nutcracker.

Here's Naya just a few days before Christmas, can you tell?

O Come

2010-12-23T13:05:00.000-08:00

(reposted from December 08)

I find myself a few short days from Christmas with a heart full of thoughts. I've said before I'm just a little crazy about Christmas. I love helping to create some of the magic and meaning of the advent season with my little brood. I think there are hints of Christmas in every room in the house; paper snowflakes in the windows and the smell of pine and baking fills the house.

I'm not sure when it happens but somewhere along the line the innocence we have as children is lost. The forever-long wait until the 25th, filled with all manner of festive wonders is traded in for being the one responsible for making it all happen. So days quickly pass with shopping, parties, baking, cleaning, visiting, and just being the mama and making sure everyone is happy. Despite the busyness, I love every minute of it. This year though, something has felt different.

This is a portion of a book called Watch for the Light which I like to remember this time of year.
"What if on Christmas Eve people came and sat in dim pews, and someone stood up and said, "Something happened when you where out at the malls, while we were baking cookies and fretting about if we got our brother-in-law the right gift: Christ was born. God is here"? We wouldn't need the glorious choruses and the harp and the bell choir and the organ. We wouldn't need the tree strung with lights. We wouldn't need to deny that painful dissonance between the promise and hope of Christmas and a world wracked with sin and evil. All of that would seem gaudy and shallow in comparison to the sanctity of that still sanctuary. And we, hushed and awed by something greater and wiser and kinder than we, would kneel of one accord in the stillness. A peace would settle over the planet like a velvet coverlet drawn over a sleeping child. The world would recollect itself and discover itself held in the womb of The Mother of God. We would be filled with the fullness of God, even as we filled the emptiness of the savior's heart with ours."
---Loretta Ross-Gotta
I heard a sermon last week that captured so much of how I have felt this season. This season of advent really is about rejoicing in our manger-born King who became like us so He could rescue us and about our longing for Him to come again. My pastor read this story from a recent issue of the New York Times about a cholera epidemic in Zimbabwe that killed the youngest five children of one family a few weeks back. This month, in this season of celebration, my heart has at times been heavy. We have had some grey days as of late. Some so grey when I woke I wondered if it was still night because the darkness dragged into the day, and I sipped my tea watching the cloud-shrouded dripping mountain instead of the pink glow of morning sun lighting it up. I don't suppose I'd stopped long enough to sort through how I'd been feeling. On one such grey day last week I found myself on a lonely stretch of highway peering through water streaming down the windshield and down my cheeks. There was a weight on my shoulders of loved ones hurting, broken relationships, the struggle of our flesh. I thought of those precious children whose little bodies' fought for life and quickly lost under deplorable health conditions. For the woman whose husband abandoned her this year, the man diagnosed with cancer, the family that lost their house and is broke. What does this baby born so long ago mean for them? And I wept for those children who suffered and for the ones they left behind, wept for thousands of others who are suffering all over the world. I was not despairing but longing, expectant for the day His sword will yield the final death blow to suffering and sin.
Certainly there is no easy tidy bit of rhetoric to dissolve these gut-wrenching issues. But with that said, I cling to the hope that is Christmas. That the King and creator of all that wrapped himself in human flesh was so pained by the sadness and suffering of the people he loved, that he made a plan to rescue us. It didn't end in a manger or on a cross, our Prince of Peace will obliterate and destroy the sting of death and disease. This is what I know, so I wait... and whisper through tears, O come, O come Emmanuel.

Today I held my friends brand new baby girl. Her name is Selah Grace. Selah was taken from the Psalms and is believed to mean to pause and reflect, what a lovely reminder. It is in the light of such darkness that I was awed by the beauty of her tiny face, the wrinkled skin on her hands, her smell. The contrast of such suffering and such blessing. The strength in Josh's arms around me, the sweet spirits of my children, these blessings that I am overwhelmed to be the recipient of. As Christmas draws near my soul rejoices in the love that our God has lavished on us and in the promise of hope and healing.

Hands for Hope

2010-12-17T17:34:00.001-08:00

Here's one of things that has been keeping me busy. A few months ago I went to a Sara Groves concert. She is a huge advocate for women and the concert was a benefit to raise money to help stop sex trafficking. A local non-profit called 1040 connections made a presentation to help raise awareness and funds to help these girls being trafficked from Nepal into India. They are doing an amazingly powerful work to rescue these women and girls from the the bondage of life as a sex slave. We all know it happens. No one wants to think about it. But seeing their faces and hearing their stories was heart-breaking to say the least. Since seeing the presentation I was incredibly compelled and could not just shake off the stories of these women. What does Christ want of us in the midst of such suffering? I came home that night blessed but also deeply sorrowed.This burden compounded after reading the book Half the Sky. Again, the book told of horrific things that these precious girls are suffering. I shared this experience with the women's group I've met with for the last several years and one thing led to another. We've talked before about how difficult it can be at our stage of life, having little ones to find the freedom and time to be involved heavily in ministry. We started thinking about something more we could do than just pray.
The people at 1040 set up stop points along the border with the support of local law enforcement. Then they separate the women from the men in the car, they compare their stories and offer the women a way out if they want it. The women who would have been trafficked are taken to rescue homes and taught various trades such as tailoring to prepare them to have sustainable income; something that simple, saving hundreds of lives.
So what could we do? God turned our hearts collectively toward this effort and we decided to pool our gifts and work with 10/40 to be Christ to these women in whatever way we could. I happened to be in a group with some really creative and talented women. We sewed, knitted, and made whatever we knew how, to donate the earnings to help these women, thus our name Hands for Hope. Two weekends ago we set up at a local 24-hour holiday festival. We had original print cards, handmade books, beautiful soaps, headbands, doll quilts, baby slings, aprons as well as jewelery and art from other local artists who donated. After a day spent in a cold off-and-on drizzle, I was thrilled with how much was earned and how interested people were in our cause. Even something this small God can use for his purposes just like he used the widow's mite. It bonded us together, all of us thankful to be able to use our hands to help these sisters across the globe.

We still have quite a bit left and I'm hoping to find more places to sell and set up some type of online shop. Some of what we have left are ring slings like the one pictured below in a linen color. They are suitable for infants through toddlers.

We also have cards, handmade journals, and the last one of these adorable pixie baby hats in a soft pink 0-6 months. Below is my little gnome modeling hers last year.

We also have framed photos and these knit headbands.
I'll keep you posted about online purchasing, but if you see something you like, just message me. Fair trade gifts make Christmas shopping so much easier. I love to give gifts but I also like to know where my money is going. For the last few years I've been a part of Mocha Club and they launched a new initiative called fashionABLE selling these beautiful scarves, directly benefiting exploited women in Africa who made them. Here is another great idea that a few on my gift list will be receiving this year. Thanks, Christine.
Take a few minutes to see more of what they're doing.

thankful

2010-12-15T17:54:00.000-08:00

Since when did time go into warp-speed directly following Thanksgiving? I'm still trying to catch up to the fact that we are in mid-December. Time to catch up a bit. Suffice it to say, I've been pretty busy lately, busier than I'd like to be. I am realizing that while I love all of the things I'm committed to, I have a tendency to over-commit. I think I was so sick in my first trimester I was trying to make up for lost time. As a home-schooling pregnant mom of three, sometimes it doesn't work. Then I stop and breath and try to figure what are the things God wants me to do?
Fall has long since breathed her last and slipped into a freezing December. We had a wonderful full month.

For several years now I have spent the anniversary of my dad's death with my family on a mountain trail called Rock Town. This year marked six years since I've seen him and there's something about being surrounded by God's face in nature that brings peace to that place of sorrow. All of our paces seem to slow as we take in the fading colors of the season and the musty smell of the earth and decaying leaves. I watch my kids climb and explore and play and I remember him... who used to watch me just like I'm now watching them. And the missing is as fresh as the last time I held his hand.

Below is every single one of his grandchildren.We got to spend Thanksgiving week with my sister and family from NJ. With my mom and siblings and a few friends we've adopted into our family we had 28 total for dinner, and so very much to be thankful for.

A few other changes; my boy is almost halfway through his first year of school and he is sprouting faster than I can believe. Here's a shot of his sleepy self about to go to school in the dark cold morning. I can't lie I miss him tons every day but he is doing wonderful.
And lastly, the belly is growing and the little one swimming and nudging my insides is indeed a boy! I had sensed this all along, always saying "he" when I prayed for him and referred to him. I didn't really have a preference although Juden did pray for a brother every night. We are so excited to see who this little guy will be.

Okay, now that I have caught up a little hopefully I can find the time to write about how we are enjoying this precious season of Advent.

tomorrow

2010-11-16T11:17:00.000-08:00

I'm a bit behind on blogging but I just wanted to check in to say that tomorrow I get to see my little one swimming around on the monitor and find out if it's a he or a she! I'm a little ecstatic. What an amazing gift each of my children are.

On another note I thought I'd share a song Josh and I wrote a few months ago. It's about when I first had Juden. That time was something like magical. After losing our first child in the previous year and wondering if my body would be able to sustain life, having a wriggling beautiful boy was beyond amazing. A little healer he was, given by the real Healer.

As a mom sometimes staying in touch with my creative self is a struggle. But it is still there waiting for those quiet moments to emerge. It comes in spurts. And I suppose it doesn't hurt to have a super creative husband who tells me I can't go to bed until the song is finished :) That is what happened the night we wrote this.
Little Empire by joshua.c.green

weekend loves

2010-10-18T09:53:00.000-07:00

some things I loved about the weekend...
perfect Fall weather, breakfast feasts with family and friends and pumpkins, watching the men get competitive with the pumpkin carving and breaking out the power tools, seeing the fruit of all these amazing women artists at Clothesline,Juden doing a little harmonica solo for the offertory at church (oh, how it made my heart swell), picnics and sunsets, chocolate chip cookies and library books,

little girls,

and precious babies everywhere

and being with my husband who makes every single thing in my life a million times better.

apple picking

2010-10-13T11:27:00.000-07:00

We spent the day at Mercier's orchard last Saturday. I grew up apple picking every Fall. It was a nice way to welcome Fall, with my dad lifting us high into trees and filling his pockets, bags full of the best apples, and making pies. I think sometimes I try to recreate for my kids some of the precious things I loved about my own childhood. It is always nice when they love it just as much.

We rode up through the beautiful 200 acre orchard and filled our bags and finished off with the best apple cider and apple cider doughnuts. They definitely approved. Now for some pie baking.

This time last year

2010-10-11T13:31:00.000-07:00

After one of the hottest Septembers on record, I'll admit I was pining away for Autumn. The summer was dragging on with temperatures in the mid-nineties every day until October arrived, finally bringing our first cool breezes and chilly mornings. I love the rhythm of the seasons with those first cool mornings, pulling out sweaters and warming up with hot PG Tips. You have to drink in the cold air while you can around here since by the afternoon we're back up to the high 80's and the kids are running around outside with no shirts and pink cheeks. This first hint of Autumn has been intoxicating though. Scrolling through pictures of Fall last year made me excited to enjoy this season with my family. A few days a go we went to one of our favorite spots to hike, Cloudland Canyon, where the views are amazing and the destination is waterfalls. Last year we did the hike with Naya on Josh's back. This year they all hiked the whole thing all by themselves like little champions. I couldn't help but think about how much they change from year to year. I dreamed of the little one that will be snuggled in the wrap next year when we hike it. Hope you're enjoying your first days of Fall wherever you are.

Oh, and here's a lovely song for you.

dandelion root

2010-10-01T14:11:00.000-07:00

I must share this just in case you ever have the misfortune of experiencing puppps or if you know someone who has. At about nine weeks of pregnancy I noticed a rash that looked kind of like hives and almost like something was biting me. I will spare you the pictures but let me just say Google image is pretty accurate. It spread each day and was unbearably itchy. It was interrupting everything and making sleep very difficult. After about a week it was everywhere on my body except my neck and face. After endless research and ruling things out I am pretty convinced it was an early case of puppps, a somewhat rare and horribly itchy pregnancy related rash. I obviously didn't want to take medication if I didn't have to while pregnant, and it seemed like medicine might help with symptoms but not really get rid of it. I finally found some homeopathic remedies and I had nothing to lose. I talked to a local midwife who is very knowledgeable in the field and she verified the amounts I should take. She seemed quite confident that strongly infused dandelion tea would help with my rash. So each night I would brew a quart each of dandelion and nettle tea which is also supposed to be wonderful for pregnancy. Four bags of tea to a quart and it needs to steep at least four hours. Dandelion tea is extremely bitter. I could only drink it cold with the juice of about half a lemon and a touch of sweetener. I drank a quart of these teas a day, took one dandelion capsule, and flax seed and fish oil and within a week the itching stopped and it is totally clearing up. In the mean time I rubbed a generic zinc based diaper ointment on the worst patches which seemed to sooth it and help with itching. It is amazing to me how little health care professionals seemed to know about this condition. Once I had it, I heard of more and more people that had suffered with it. My sister had it terribly several years ago and was sent from one doctor and dermatologist to the next, never getting any relief until a few weeks after the baby was born. So spread the word that God gave us medicinal herbs for a reason and their benefits are endless! Anyway I would be lying if I said it was not a little discouraging to be tired, nauseous and also covered in a horrendous looking rash. I am just not one of those women who feels and looks amazing straight through the whole nine months. But I will say this, every single day I thank God for this new life and the gift that it is to me. No amount of temporary uncomfortableness will change that. In my weakness and lack of control I cling to God who is an ever present help in time of trouble. I have also been reading The Natural Pregnancy which is a wonderful source of information and positive language regarding all the things you face in pregnancy.
Even with certain hard things about pregnancy, each day I marvel that God is knitting someone inside me... a whole person with veins and bones, a beating heart, an entire story , a hope and a future, already so very loved.
A few weeks ago, I got a little peek of the baby, and it is indescribable seeing this little wriggling thing.
I walked out with this sweet picture and a huge smile on my itching blotchy self.

these boots

2010-09-17T13:02:00.000-07:00

Sisters, mama's boots, a mirror and some music equals very good times.

2010-09-17T07:17:00.000-07:00

So I've been a tad elusive in the blog world as of late but I do have a perfectly good reason.
It went like this: The kids were in bed, a record was spinning, candles and a living room dance and this little picture tucked in my waist... his surprise, a hug and tears.

I had been keeping a wonderful secret. We have a new little one in the making and we are absolutely thrilled and so very thankful for this new life inside me. Having my other three kids in three years was wonderful but a bit of a baby making whirlwind. I have had enough of a break that I am excited to drink in every minute of this crazy, miraculous process, even if the last several weeks have been spent in a fog of exhaustion and nausea. The kids are ecstatic about it and Juden immediately said it was just what he was praying for and he had been. He's hoping for a brother. We've seen the ultrasound and heard the heartbeat and can't wait to meet this one who is due in April right in time for Spring and at the same time our very first was due. Amazing.

about to hatch

2010-08-24T10:45:00.000-07:00

I said,"Nora, can you give your baby some love and she was up on her tip toes all smiles ready to accommodate." The morning light was perfect and soft and you can feel the tenderness of this time... all her little toddler energy and her mama waiting right at the very end of pregnancy. One of the things I love about taking pictures is getting the chance to share in these really precious times with people who mean so much to me. This is one of my dearest friends Laura, who I've known all my life and I can't wait to meet her new one.

(baby brother or sister makes such a lovely pillow)

I love this wrinkled-nose face.

henna bellies

2010-08-23T12:08:00.000-07:00

I know it seems there are some themes around here lately; babies and bellies and new life. What an incredible season it is to be surrounded by people that I love that are swelling with new little people. Over the summer, three of the five pregnant ones in my girls' group have met their babies, and it won't be long for the last two. I really wanted to have some henna parties to celebrate and adorn all these beautiful bellies so we had one in the beginning of the summer and one last week. It really is a lovely way to celebrate. It isn't always easy to watch your body transform and stretch within nine months, but it is so freeing to be among women who choose to embrace every stretch mark and and every change with a respect for what God has made our bodies be able to do: nurture life.
Kelly, one of the girls in our group is an artist whose work I adore, so she was our henna artist. I got the Proud Body Pregnancy Henna Kit to ensure that it was 100% all natural. It creates such a relaxing mood watching the designs take shape and watching baby limbs press against their increasingly crowded womb-abode. It left me feeling a little like I'd been marked with some tribal marking, all of us baring some pretty burnt-sienna colored stain in vines or flowers on our hands or ankles. It smelled pleasant of lavender oil and I thought of all the times I've shared with these women over the years in my living room or anothers...so many stories, so much laughter. I remembered so many prayers, showers and some hard times too. We listened and cried and knit a prayer shawl together when one of us miscarried, some of us knew the heartache first hand but we all understood the depth of loving something out of our control. We've been there for each other in those times, but we've had many more joys and blessings as represented by a growing group of the next generation.
Here's a few shots of a night I want to remember. I'm thinking this will be our new shower tradition. Who doesn't need a little body art now and then?

(this one is due to hatch in less than 2 weeks! amazing)

moments

2010-08-18T09:04:00.000-07:00

(Mara Joy)

(Evangeline Linda)

She was the girl who at thirteen, I thought nothing in the world could separate me from. We were joined at the hip in that strange codependent-adolescent-girl sort of way. We went through every phase of growing up together, summer camp, beach trips, first jobs, first boyfriends, heartbreak , failures. God knew what he was doing when he brought us together because we felt stronger and bolder somehow in each other's presence. We did the same ministries and cheered each other on in every endeavor either of us tried. We both got married young and our lives looked like they were traveling a joint path just like I always thought they would... until everything changed and she told me they were moving back to Philadelphia while we had settled in Tennessee. It was so hard to say good-bye to this deep sisterhood I had known since we were eight years old.
It's about ten years later and I miss her deeply in my day to day life.
Just in time to end our summer Vanessa,her husband and her six children, the youngest of whom I had never met, came and stayed with us. It had been almost two years since I'd seen her. I cuddled her sweet kids and we played and got together with more of our college friends and their children reaching a grand total of sixteen children running around our houses at any given time. We cooked huge meals and swam and stole every opportunity to catch up in the way you can't on the phone or the computer. We are extremely different personality-wise which is part of why we enjoy each other so much and can make each-other laugh till we cry. One night it struck me though...the bitter-sweetness of it. All the kids had finally surrendered their weary selves to sleep and all of us moms stayed up for hours, laying around, drinking piña coladas and sharing our souls into the night. I loved listening the hearts of these amazing women I am privileged enough to have as life long friends. The night was filled with honesty, encouragement, inspiration and good thoughts to ponder. It's amazing how much ground a bunch of women can cover when times to just be are few. For several days I didn't want to go to bed, enjoying being able to have my far away friend in my living room, savoring holding her two month old in my lap. The time was deep and rich and I was so thankful to be able to reconnect. But it was hard to get a glimpse of what I am missing. I am so thankful to have a bond that covers the miles between us.
Here are some of the faces from our time together.

(Jonas)

(us)

( Nora giving her new baby a kiss)

(sisters and Jael)

(What a treasure being with little Eva, who at a glance, looks just like my childhood best friend)

First day of school

2010-08-11T18:09:00.000-07:00

Even when a change is good it doesn't mean it's easy. Especially for a girl like me who takes a little while to warm up to change. I was in no was prepared for how hard today would be for me. I think perhaps it was because he is my first, maybe because I home-schooled him so I was with him all the time. I think it is mostly that I know what I'll be missing. It's the letting go...it's painful. I thought about all these wonderful days I have had the blessing of being home with him, holding moments I never want to forget like this day and moments like this and this. I am thankful for the opportunity for a good education for him and dedicated teachers and I have confidence that he will learn and grow beautifully. It is just hard turning the page to the chapter of his life where the majority of his days are spent away from me. Before today I was with him every single day.
For everything gained there are other things lost and it is all part of the process so I am learning. I am also learning that all those times people have said to me, "Enjoy them when they're little, they grow up fast." What they meant to say was, "one day you wake up and realize that things are moving at warp-speed and there's not a thing you can do about it, even when your heart needs slow-motion."
It is strange how vividly I can remember the panic in the room when things weren't progressing normally during my labor with him, even twenty four hours after my water broke. How in that moment I didn't care if someone cut my stomach open with a sword just so I could here that first wild cry from my son. Then in another blink I remember standing in his bedroom door looking in at his perfectly crossed little feet and bottom in the air,(that's how he used to sleep). I was so sad because he seemed so far all the way down the hall in his crib after sleeping in our room for so many months. I remember almost losing him when he was two and how God taught me through that. I remember all of his questions and holding his little dimpled hand and his soft toddler self now undeniably bony and lanky. Somehow when you're in the moment you just don't realize how quickly it will all change.

This morning he was excited and eager bursting with energy. I knew he would be. He has become so independent even just this summer. It was a small grace to me, it would have been so much harder if he was sad or nervous. I was a kind of a wreck last night but I prayed I would be happy and strong for him this morning. I've been wondering if something was wrong with me to be so torn up. Millions of moms send their kids off to school everyday. Oh well, I suppose another thing I'm learning is that I'm kind of crazy sensitive. Anyway, I held it together, hugged him and he smiled and waved with a "see ya, mom" attitude and he was off. I could feel the ache in my chest and barely made it to the car where the flood-gates opened.

I know that this is where God has Him and that he is holding him when I am not.
Things I will miss so much...
~ waking up to little knees and elbows jabbing me, my early morning snuggler
~ how he always makes the librarian at story-time search around for books on snakes or Star Wars or Van Gogh
~ reading book after book while he illustrates everything I read
~ nature treasure hunts and talks and picnics at the Nature Center in the Fall
~ how he makes me photograph all of his latest Lego creations
~ being his primary teacher
~ watching the girls follow him around the house all day
~ how he makes friends with strangers everywhere we go
~ being able to hug him whenever I want in a day

The things I am learning...
~ life is strange and winding and precious and incredibly fast
~ a mother's love is ferocious and deep and aching
~ our kids are not ours to begin with, a brilliant Creator holds them.
~ I never was in control, just entrusted
~ it is the greatest honor to take part in loving and shaping my children for his kingdom, even though mothering is a perpetual practice of letting go
~ someone might have to drug me when my kids leave for college

the lake

2010-07-31T19:16:00.000-07:00

"Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul." - Muir

This is, I think,
what holiness is:
the natural world,
where every moment is full
of the passion to keep moving.
Inside every mind
there's a hermit's cave
full of light,
full of snow,
full of concentration.
I've knelt there,
and so have you,
hanging on
to what you love,
to what is lovely.
The lake's
shining sheets
don't make a ripple now,
and the stars
are going off to their blue sleep,
but the words are in place --
and the fish leaps, and leaps again
from the black plush of the poem,
that breathless space.

~ Mary Oliver ~

Summer is winding down with only a little over a week until school starts. We got back this weekend from a little get away to the woods. I went with a bunch of moms and a bigger bunch of kids. We were very outnumbered. It was everything summer should be. A multitude of sun- kissed happy kids swam and boated and fished in the lake all day. The cabins were filled with kitschy art work with a large screened porch for meals and board games. There was lantern -light card games, smores around campfires, nature walks and rope-swinging.
Some of the highlights were...
~the talent show the last night where Juden shyly announced that he made his song up and played his harmonica and the little girls did ballet
~late night conversations with a dear friend over stringing bead necklaces and exhausted laughter
~ watching Juden being so big and independent, fearless on the rope swing, paddle boating by himself and anchoring boats
~ holding a tired Naya while laying on blankets and star-gazing when she asked, "can we reach up and touch them?"
~ being with so many friends
~ the noise and the chaos and the few stolen moments of stillness on the dock at twilight
~ the smell of fire and pine trees and the songs of crickets at night
~ being held in the embrace of God's boundless artistry

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

history maker

2010-07-27T18:54:00.000-07:00

I was looking at these pictures of Naya tonight marveling at how precious and complex my little girl is. They reminded me of these I took of Ella in the same dress last year.
Naya has been on my heart a lot lately. My little history maker has been making life a little crazy lately. Three is a really hard age as I recall with Juden.
I've been doing a lot of disciplining and a lot of praying with and for my girl. Sometimes I wonder, 'where is all this anger and hyper-emotionalism coming from, over the tiniest thing?' I always try to make sure we are okay after I have to discipline her, that she knows I love her even if I don't tolerate her behavior. But really there is just no formula to this parenting thing. Believe me, I've read lots of good books. It's all about humility, prayer, grace, forgiveness, love and more love. My, it can be wearisome too though. I pray that God will give me patience to shape my fiery little daughter, to be wise and firm but always full of grace. That I might study just the way her little heart works with all its needs.
It dawned on me, just how much I am like my little daughter with Jesus. I'm hard headed, fretful, angry, and untrusting at times...so dis-believing that he loves me and knows what's best. But how blessed it is when I rest on His bosom with faith like a child to embrace His love and care for me.

The last picture is of me at three and it reminded me a little of Naya now.

being green

the boys

Christmas

Molasses cookies

what's blooming

lights

*December*

*Hands for Hope *giveaway*

i like street art

*soft*

today

there's a fire down here

pumpkin carving

today

trick or treat goodness

apple picking

His wings

*morning & home*

*letters*

the first four months

baby pants

summer

*Love&War&the Sea in Between*

my new favorite thing

already

more beach pictures

* beach rewind *

i ♥ summer

happy 4th

blueberries

SIX

letters

sister love

*one month*

mother's day

sister love

one amazing week old...

nesting...

my nanny

sun flare

*expect*

naya

ballet party

i love sundays

seven

art party

Storing Up Treasures: The post where I lay it all out there

January

white christmas

December loves

O Come

Hands for Hope

thankful

tomorrow

weekend loves

apple picking

This time last year

dandelion root

these boots

about to hatch

henna bellies

moments

First day of school

the lake

history maker

December

Hands for Hope giveaway*

soft

morning & home

letters

Love&War&the Sea in Between

one month

expect