On Turning Ten

Juden turned 10; an entire decade of life with this son of my heart. I must admit at some point that day I read Billy Collins' poem, On Turning Ten, and got a lump in my throat. It's been said a thousand times but I really get a little sucker punched every now and then with how quickly he is changing. Suddenly tall and all limbs and with a soul ever waking to bigger ideas. I write and photograph them on their birthday just to mark this time and to remember. We had a small family birthday party this year with one friend Lulu, who has been like family since birth. We paused for a few moments for people to offer prayers of blessing on his life and my heart hurt with gratitude for his life and joy.  He went climbing at  a climbing gym and had a date with me which turned out a little rainy but still included beating me at air hockey,  an adorable dance in the rain, and yummy desserts. He was celebrated in true fashion and pretty much smothered in little sibling and cousin love. 

To Juden,

The other night I decided to put daddy's little tent that housed him all through Europe in your room. You LOVE to read, which to this book loving mama, makes my heart giddy. You would read for hours at night if I let you. When I come in to kiss you before I go to sleep sometimes it's hard to find you because you have this habit of surrounding your whole self with pillows and blankets like you are in a nest. You've told me more than once that you wish your name was Sparrow. You looked so cozy in there with your stack of books, comics and flashlight that I grabbed my book and climbed in the tent with you. We took turns reading our books to each other and chatting in between. You love being the big brother and I love watching you grow in this role. I have to be careful to remind Ella that she doesn't have to do everything you tell her to. You seem to enjoy the fact that she would pretty much follow you anywhere. Naya, on the other hand, gives you a run for your money and doesn't really want anyone to be her boss. I don't know what you guys would all do without each other. I decided to ask you some questions most of which I already know the answer to but here it is so you can remember your newly ten year old self. 

Me: What do you want to be when you grow up? 

Juden: An author, and artist and a cartoonist. 

Me: Where would you most like to go and why? 

Juden: I think Europe because it just looks beautiful and I could have adventures.

Me: Who are your favorite authors? 

Juden: C.S. Lewis, Charles Dickens and Tolkien

Me: What is your favorite music? 

Juden: Infradig, The Distribution,  Josh Garrels and Bombay Dub Orchestra

Me: Who are your heroes?

Juden: C. S. Lewis, and dad and you. 

Me: What would a really good day look like to you? 

Juden: Going to Mckay bookstore and drawing and going outside.

I love how you think. You are pretty high energy at times your mind and body going a mile a minute but you are also really sensitive and think about things deeply. You love playing with Harper and you wind him up like a little puppy. Your sketch books can hardly contain all your drawings which are comic-inspired a lot lately. You love building things, whittling, riding your bike, soccer, and you love being with  friends. 

As I reflect on this last decade, to the time that I was ushered into motherhood with the presence of your tiny wailing self. It was terrifying and unadulterated love all at once. You have been one of the deepest sources of joy in all my life. And oh how we have grown together. We have been through so many firsts, so many phases, trains, planes, pirates, Star Wars, Narnia, Lord of the Rings. You are a passionate little person, head strong, stubborn, sweet and hilarious. You are in love with life and God and family. So many prayers I have stormed heaven with on your behalf from before you were even born that I know will echo through heaven for eternity. I can't wait to see the plans our God has for you. I reflect on the time you fell when you were two,  and the time daddy and I stood by with tears and worry when you were eight and having bleeding that we couldn't figure out. So many reminders that you are not really ours but God's,  entrusted to us.  I wonder about this next decade. What things it may hold for you. It's overwhelming sometimes navigating being your mama, knowing that I will fail you and hurt you and trusting God with the challenges of knowing how to help you become a man of honor.  I am thankful that the God who parents me and daddy is holding you and is merciful. I pray you will continue to grow with such vibrancy and joy and that you will follow hard after your maker. I love you so fiercely my precious son.

I feel like where ever you are is my favorite stage because it's so fun watching you become, but every once in awhile I miss this little guy too.

the shape of days

   There has been quite a bit of silence in this space so it seemed time to break it. February is our birthday-full month, so I have some catching up on posts to do but for now, a testament to the reason for less posts around here. Since I began homeschooling all of the kids, there are certain other things I have less time and energy for. I do miss the simple fleshing out, in a few sentences or photos, the stories of these days and how they thread together into months and years that are ever tumbling forward. Truth be told, there some days that are just hard, when I am not quite enough to go around or Harper needs more attention. I may or may not occasionally fantasize about a big yellow bus coming and the house being very quiet:)  But mostly I want to remain very present in this place and time that God has led me to. I love spending these days with all of my kids, starting our days cooking breakfast together and listening to Ella read our devotions. We are learning and growing together and it is good, not always easy, but good.  I am blessed that more than the bickering, which certainly comes, they are forming strong bonds with each other and that is a beautiful thing to watch. We had a trying day so yesterday we decided to have school at the Nature Center nearby.  Sometimes we just need to switch things up. We read, sketched, explored and drank in the air that hinted of spring. We listened to song birds and collected treasures. The wind, water and sky refreshed my spirit and helped me to really see my kids and join them in the wonder that comes with being small.

Friday loves

There was a lot in this week I want to let go of. These are the things I want to hold on to...

 this man, covered in our babies,

this moment when I breathe in everything about your tiny self and drink in the sound of your joy...

the shape of her, the light on her face the quiet of her thoughts...

taking a break from school for a little while to make flower wreaths for my fairy girls...

Not a single day will pass that I will not breathe out thanks to the one who gives every good thing.

Light

 Nights like this remind me why I love the camera. Because tiny, pudgy fingers are learning to take in the world around them. Because you focus on the strong veined arms of the daddy around tiny laughing bodies. Because the light is golden on the fields and it rests soft on the way they look at each other. Because when you're a mama, no matter how naughty or exhausting they have been, at the end of the day, you can't help slipping in their room to watch them sleep and wondering how you ever got so blessed. Because there is something holy in the bond of family. Because I can see my little brother as a man he has become and see his cheeky, impish ways in his little boys. Because it all doesn't last for long and sometimes you want to hold on.

September in our corner...

For my part, I prefer my heart to be broken. It is so lovely, dawn-kaleidoscopic within the crack."
                                                        ~ D.H. Lawrence                  

     Last night as we sat down to pray together with the kids. I wasn't feeling prayerful or focused. I was a little depleted and disappointed in my lack of patience and frustration. Too many scattered thoughts and unfinished jobs. An older friend spoke of this season of raising small children, in her own life, as feeling fragmented. It resonated with me. I feel it too at times, all the things that you just can't get to, the many needs at every turn. That feeling like I can never be quite enough. That deep longing for sanctuary, for solitude. And then there are those things I always thought I'd do... study photography, adopt, advocate for children, go to India and Uganda, serve the least of these, all these deep desires that are still there but seem out of reach. At times I wonder if I am really doing anything well. Am I really serving in the ways God tells me too? Are my days ordered by Him? I want to be His vessel, His hands and feet while I am here but can I do that in my little home, in this place I am in?

As I look back at old prayer journals I asked God to help me love what He loves and hate what He hates, that He would let my heart break over what breaks His. I have seen Him answering this prayer in increasing measures and for that I am thankful. But what do I do with headlines that turn my stomach and make me shudder, that haunt me when I'm reading Goodnight Moon or telling my daughter not to be afraid in the storms? 

How can I feast on plenty while sisters around the globe watch their own babies bellies swell? 

I erupt with joy at each new phrase sweetly spoken by my toddlers lip's. I cup his soft face in my hands and drink in those holy moments. Somewhere else on this beautiful spinning planet Syrian mothers become numb when daughters and husbands and sons are murdered.

 My heart breaks.

I wait for the moment when my husband walks through the door and into my arms while the wife and children of Pastor Saeed Abedini continue to hear of his unlawful imprisonment and torture. 

  My heart breaks. 

I watch my girls laugh and dance through the grass in the long shadows of the afternoon and I ache for the beauty.

But someone else's little girl is sold as a sex slave, raped, treated like trash, and I tuck my precious girls in, to the sounds of soft music. Who hears their wailing?

My heart breaks.

I watch the wonder of new blooms of cosmos and lilies and marvel at the intricacy of moth wings while  today many remember the last time they saw their loved ones lost in New York City this day twelve years ago? 

Sometimes it feels like sacrilege. The disparity haunts me. How can life and humanity be simultaneously so heinous and sorrowful,  beautiful and joyful. I am undone by my blessing and grieved by the suffering of so many around the world. 

A friend of mine wrote this today:

"On this day, as we remember so many lives tragically lost on our own soil, let's also remember that for many families across the globe, this awful sense of tremendous and sudden loss is a daily horror. For many forgotten and unseen people, the sting of death has become a close friend. Even today, my beloved Nigeria bleeds. Over 600,000 Syrians have fled their homes, their families, their lives. War, famine, floods...
We are not alone in our grief. As we remember what happened on 9/11/01, please...say a prayer for the millions of other beautiful souls sharing our planet whose "9/11" is happening right now."

 

 I leave this full, tattered, thankful, burdened, broken heart at the foot of the cross; for where else can I go? I leave it there, with Him who is well acquainted with sorrows, who entered this bloody war-torn skin of ours to embody love. I look to the hills from whence cometh my help. I lift up the sufferers to his throne. I share their grief, it has become this well inside me. I join my tears with theirs. My joys are held up to the light of what will one day be. 

I stilled my heavy soul and listened to my daughter pray and here is some of what she said, 

"Dear God, Thank you for my body and how wonderful it works, and that is a sanctuary that you live in. God, can you please control my heart? And God can you please help the people that have to go through really hard things in the world. Can you help to heal them. Jesus I am sorry for the sins that I do. Can you forgive me and can you take them away with your arms?....Can you spread open my heart with your love. God can you help me to be a good author when I grow up and a pastor. I love you forever and more."

Her child's heart spoke so deeply that tears fell at her words. Tears of relief at His mercy, of hearing what my own soul couldn't voice just then. No matter how short I may fall or how many times I have to say I'm sorry, God is so faithful. I listened as she spilled out her heart just like she was sitting with a trusted friend and I was overwhelmed by how he covers us in His grace. 

I will dwell on His promises. 

I will hope in Him. 

I long for His glory to be made full  in my heart and to all nations. 

"Be brave and courageous. Yes, wait patiently for the Lord." ~Psalm 27:14

"Do not be afraid, for I am with you."~ Isaiah 43:5

"I will turn their morning into joy, and will comfort them, and make them rejoice from their sorrow."~Jeremiah 31:13

"My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest."~Exodus 33:14

""He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Death will no longer exist; grief, crying, and pain will exist no longer, because the previous things have passed away."~ Revelation 21:4