School Supplies

My sweet Ada is so excited for kindergarten. She tells everyone we talk to that this is her year. She is ready to buy a backpack and school supplies. I am excited too. But I'm also weepy. Not for the normal "my last baby is off to school" reasons but because I am so sad that her year is covered by Covid. Right now our district is still planning to open in three weeks with face masks and social distancing. That could change though. No matter how we go back to school we won't get to do the normal first year of school things. No meet the teacher night, no ice cream social. We will put her on the bus on the first day of school and send her off. I love our schools. I have no doubt her teacher will be amazing and will make this transition as easy as possible given the strange circumstances. But my heart is still aching for what she will miss.

I texted a friend yesterday to ask her how she was and we chatted about the uncertainty we are all facing. She's not sure how many of her classes will be online and it keeps changing often. I shared my anxieties about the school year for my kids. I told her I have been repeating to myself, "Be still and Know..." but that my mind was having trouble settling into it. Then I sent something to her that really was a reminder to myself. I said, "The not knowing is hard. The older I get the more I want things to be in line. To know ahead of time. Which means I need God's peace even more. As it should be, right? If it was all easy and good we wouldn’t know we need a peace bringing, life giving, soul saving savior." The Spirit spoke to my soul in that moment and brought a sense of peace. I don't have to know exactly what this year will look like. It doesn't have to look like it did for my first two kiddos when they went off to kindergarten. 

Today I am resting on the bright side. Gracie said at the table last night, "Ada will always remember her kindergarten year." Maybe it's a blessing she will have a different experience. Evan will be on the bus with her. They will share a seat. He will show her the ropes like the great big brother he is. Today I'm reading this scripture with a greater peace in my soul "He says, “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth. Psalm 46:10.”  Today, I am trusting that He is with all of us. Even my sweet little baby Ada. Today, we are buying school supplies. 

More of You

Driving home from church tonight I passed a stretch of foliage that was starting to show signs of the season. Suddenly the phrase "season of me" leapt into my mind. I was coming home early from church to put the little ones down because Wednesdays are visit days which means they get little to no nap and need an early bedtime. I was feeling sad that I wouldn't be able to attend class tonight. This is definitely not a "season of me." In fact, the moment I became a mom ended what seemed like a "season of me." That time between college and kids where we think we're in charge of life.

Then, as I often do, I mulled over these thoughts and it didn't take long for me to realize that a "season of me" is not something I will ever have again. Not because I'll always be a hands on caretaker but because as I grow in my faith I am more and more aware that it is no longer I that am in control. Honestly, I would rather not be. I am longing for transformation in my heart. I pray that I am becoming more and more like Jesus. I hope that my ways are shifting further and further into the background so that His ways can prevail. As John says in chapter six and verse 30, "He must become greater, I must become less."

I wish I could say that the selfish part of me has subsided so far into the depths that I rise everyday ready to meet the challenges God has before me with the greatest grace and dignity, but I would be lying if I did. Daily I fail. Daily I struggle with the mundane and hard parts of my job. Daily I call on God to show me grace and allow me to show grace to those around me. Daily I pray, "more of you, Lord and less of me."

Grandmother's Letters

A few weeks ago, in an attempt to do a bit of organizing, I grabbed my box of letters and notes that I've kept through the years and started sorting through them. I had letters from family and friends from as far back as high school. Simple notes that were dropped in the mail from a friend in college. Birthday cards from my parents. A thank you card from my sister-in-law from before she was my sister-in-law. Emails from my Dad that I printed out (a good thing because I'm not sure I could access that old email address these days).

A few of the special letters came from my Grandmothers. My Dad's Mom (Granny to me) sent me a letter typed on a typewriter during my freshmen year of high school. My family moved that year. It was really hard for me and she took time to write to me about a time when she experienced the same sort of move and apprehension. My Mom's Mom (Grandma) sent me cards while I was in college. Simple little notes to let me know she was thinking about me. I remember getting those notes and feeling encouraged.

I'm sure I did not appreciate those notes as much when I received them. I enjoyed them but I had a lot of life to live and so I didn't realize just what a blessing it is to have generations of people encouraging me. I didn't yet know the calling they were following came from the God who created us all. You see, God did not create us to live separate lives. He does not call us to attempt to figure this life out on our own. He gave us a church body, a family, to walk beside us. One of our greatest resources for Godly living is sitting right beside us on Sunday morning.

I have been contemplating intergenerational church lately. The idea was introduced to me by a dear friend at church, one who has much more wisdom than I do. I find myself longing for my kids to know their church family. Not just their friends and our small group but the whole church. I want them to feel as though they have a whole church of grandparents that they can look to for wisdom and guidance. I want them to hear what the generations that have gone before me have to say about this life we are living.

It is not just a blessing to learn from the wisdom of those who have made it further in life than we have, it is a calling.

3 Likewise, teach the older women to be reverent in the way they live, not to be slanderers or addicted to much wine, but to teach what is good. 4 Then they can urge the younger women to love their husbands and children, 5 to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind, and to be subject to their husbands, so that no one will malign the word of God.

Fledglings

I love to watch the birds this time of year. A family of robins nested in a tree in our front yard and we have been enjoying peeking in to watch them grow from little blue eggs to fledglings ready to leave the nest. Yesterday at lunch time Evan spotted two of those little birds on one of our chairs on the back porch. There were several adult birds keeping watch from the fence posts. A community of robins with a goal! We stood at the sliding door for quite awhile and watched as the flight lesson played out. One of the fledglings took a leap and flew straight into the neighbors house! But she picked herself up quickly and was zipping through our yard in no time perching in the trees for a break and taking flight again. The second little guy took his time though. He sat for what must have been twenty minutes just waiting. Working up the courage, I think, to take flight. At one point one of the adult birds that had been staying close came to the chair with a nice juicy worm in his mouth. He was there to encourage the little guy, I'm sure. Shortly after that Ada scared him from his perch and he took to the skies.

This week Evan had a Kindergarten assessment. As we were leaving the school the teacher asked if he was ready for next year and then she turned to me and asked the same thing. With no hesitation I replied, "Absolutely!" It's not that I am eager to send my fledglings out into the world yet. Though I do crave the quiet that will come when it does happen now and again! I am simply enamored at every turn that this journey takes. I am so proud of Gracie and the little lady she is becoming. The conversations we have about life and friendship and the future are moments I would never want to miss by keeping her little. I am so excited to see how Evan leaps into Kindy next year with a room full of new friends and a teacher to guide him on his learning path. I am trying to, ever so patiently, navigate the tricky waters that are the "2's almost 3's" with Ada as she tests her boundaries and learns what she is capable of.

Motherhood is a journey. It's a process of watching and guiding our little robins from tiny infant to fledglings ready to fly the nest. I am excited to see what types of people my little ones become. I have high hopes that with plenty of guidance and lots of prayer they will take to the skies with determination and the Breath of God to hold them up.

To Remember

There are moments with my kids that I don't want to forget. I sometimes pause and try and make a mental picture, an image I will be able to recall in years to come. When they are all grown and flying the coop I would like to remember what it was like to have them little. To have the giggles and the running feet and even the chaos surrounding me.

A few weeks ago Ada asked for fruit snacks in her sweet two year old way. "Mama, I have fruit snacks now?" Her head cocked to the side and the pitch of her voice raised just a bit to be extra soft and sweet. I said, "Yes." because I am not a monster (and those eyes!) and followed her to the pantry. There is just something about following a two-year old around. She used to be so little and unsure. Now she seems so big and confident. She can open the pantry door, after all! I watched her little head lead me to the gold at the end of the snack request and made a wish to remember following these sweet little bodies around the house as they led me on the adventures that little preschoolers go on. To remember what it looks like to see an infant go from crawling to toddling to confidently stepping through life with purpose. Little humans growing up!

This morning Evan had his final basketball game of the season. He has improved over the six weeks he has been playing. Sometimes it's hard to watch my kids struggle at something new. I want to dribble for them and tell them where to go and who to guard. During the game Evan caught a catch and made a basket. Matt caught it on video. What he didn't catch on video is the look on his face. I was sitting behind the goal and after he made that shot he looked directly at me with a look of surprise on his face. He was asking if I saw it with his eyes. I gave him a big smile and a thumbs up. I was such a proud mom in that moment. Not just because he made a goal but because he was so pleased with himself. I hope to never forget the look on his face as he found me in the crowd to share in his excitement.

I was shopping at a craft show a couple of weeks ago and I found something that I just knew I had to get for Gracie. It was a little wooden plaque with the words "Bless the Lord oh my soul" on it. Every time I hear the song 10,000 Reasons by Matt Redman I think of little Gracie singing "Bless the Lord of my sword" so many years ago. I gave her the plaque this week and told her the story of listening to her sing the words she had come up with in the back seat many years ago. She didn't remember singing those words but she does know the song now. She asked "Alexa" to play the song for us while she crafted and I cleaned the kitchen. Mother and Daughter singing praises to our Heavenly Father.

"The sun comes up
It's a new day dawning
It's time to sing Your song again
Whatever may pass
And whatever lies before me
Let me be singing 
When the evening comes..."

Lord, let me "sing your song" with every new day. Let my children see me face "whatever lies before me" with a song in my heart. Let me remember all these sweet moments when the evening comes. 

Brilliant Fall Fields

I have been doing a lot of driving these days. To preschool to drop off, to preschool to pick up, to Bible study, to the grocery store, to the store for party supplies, etc. As I drive I often "write" in my head. I listen for the words that God may give me and hope I remember them when I get to a computer or notepad to jot them down. Today I have been specifically thinking about my kids and the words I might use to wish them a happy birthday this month. I know they will not read them this year. They are too young for Facebook and don't visit the blog. But I love creating a moment for them that they may be able to read later in life and know that Mom was thinking of them. I have been "writing" about all the beautiful Fall colors for a week now and today God gave me the words I wanted to share with my little ones.

In the past week I have been overtaken by the beauty in this season. I have driven past many areas where the bright yellow, orange, red and brown leaves have fallen to blanket the ground in a golden hue that only God could create. As I see the sun shining through the leaves in the trees that have yet to fall I have been tempted on many occasions to pull over and stand in the middle of that shining moment. I think it must be so warm, so peaceful, there. Eyes closed, the sun on my face and the sound of rustling leaves all around. It is a picture of Heaven I think. Standing in the middle of God's presence, His light shining on my face and the sound of angels praising all around.

My kid's birthdays are like those brilliant Fall fields for me. Every year I am overtaken by the beauty in each child God has blessed us with. I am so grateful for the way the Lord is working in my life and in theirs. I want to stop and pull over and dance with my babies in a forest full of colors that only God can create and remind them, not only how much I love them, but how much the Father in Heaven loves them.

So, I wish my babies, Happy Birthday! I pray that this year is filled with many moments that cause us to stop and pull over to stand in the presence of the God who created all.

Confession

A couple of weeks ago during our family prayer before bedtime Matt prayed,  "Help us to show you to other people." When he was done he asked our kids if they knew what that meant. They remained quiet thinking through the answer. I asked them if they knew what the fruit of the Spirit was (Galations 5:22-23) and was pleasantly surprised when Gracie started to list the different qualities of the fruit - love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control (props to our wonderful kids program teachers at North Central for impressing this truth into her precious mind)

We discussed how we know that if we see apples on a tree it is an apple tree, that if we see oranges on a tree it is an orange tree and that if people see the fruit of the spirit in us they will know we are God's trees. It got really silly there for a bit. Picture this mom waving her arms around and the kids laughing it up. We had a serious discussion about whether my fingers were the fruit or the branches...it got real!

It's funny how discussions with my kids and teaching moments for them flow into a time of learning and growing for me as well.

I started BSF this year and we are studying the book of John. I have read and studied this book before but BSF has been taking me deeper. It has turned my focus to Jesus and my life in relationship to Him. It has allowed the spirit to convict me of things in my life that need to change. I am human and I fall short daily. I forget to love the people around me, I trade joy for frustration and discontentment, I am impatient with my children and I let my lack of self control rob my peace, I am not always kind to the people closest to me, sometimes my thoughts are far from good and my gentleness turns into harshness, I succumb to pride and forget that my gifts are from God and I am nothing without Him.

 I think, even as a faithful follower of God, I forget that all I have is His. That all I do is for Him. That all my fruit should point to him.

In John 3:22-36 Jesus came to baptize many people as John the Baptist had been doing before. John the Baptist's disciples were envious of Jesus and they thought John might be too. But his reaction was not one of pride or envy. He was so humble. He was overjoyed that Jesus was coming to fulfill the promise. He said, in verse 30, "He must increase, but I must decrease." I can't get those words out of my mind. My focus is shifting. God is working in me in places I hadn't realized I needed Him to before. This walk is not one that is ever done and I am thankful for that. I am Thankful that God will not leave me where I am but calls me to come and learn and grow and share and experience the peace and joy that comes from knowing and following Him. So if you have a mind to, please pray for me. That I will decrease and that He will increase.

His Plan

I was doing the dishes this afternoon and something that happened almost 9 years ago came to mind. I continued praying but my mind circled back to it not letting me move on.  I started writing in my head and wondered if I had ever touched this topic on the blog. I don't remember so I decided to get it on paper.

I listened to a sermon from our preacher yesterday that I suspect has a bit to do with my thought process. He was discussing joy in the Christian's life. He reminded me that joy does not come from circumstances but in spite of them. It doesn't always look like smiley happy people. Often it is simply (Ha!) recognizing God's presence in all of our life situations.

Nine years ago was my first taste of a plan that I did not agree with. Don't get me wrong, I had experienced plenty of heartache and sad situations prior to that point. I had made bad decisions and lived with the consequences. I had always thought that God's plan was where I wanted to be. I thought I knew and trusted that his path was best and so the heartache up to this point was something I could live with and move past. Miscarriage, though, was not in my plan. And frankly, I didn't think it should be in God's plan either. At that point in my life I saw just how in control I actually wanted to be. I no longer wanted to trust what God had for me.

I'm not exactly sure how I made it through that time. I remember crying a lot and being angry a lot. And then God began to heal me. Not because I deserved it or because I stopped asking why but because He is a good God. Because His promises do not fail. Because if we cast our anxieties on him He cares. I do remember a moment in church when we sang the song "This is How We Overcome" by Hillsong. I remember crying and feeling as though my joy was being restored.

A little less than a year after my healing began I saw the reason for my miscarriage. I saw the sweetest face I had ever laid eyes on. I held my sweet baby Gracie and saw that she was a part of God's plan. I don't always love where God takes me in this life but in that experience I learned a little more about myself. I learned that I needed more work. I needed to trust more in God's plan and choose to find joy in all circumstances. Sometimes joy comes in the night through tears of pain and loss and sometimes it looks like sitting in a pew with tears streaming down. But here's what I'm thinking...If we are weeping and praying and longing for Him to make it right then we are right where He wants us to be - at the cross looking to Him because we know and believe that His plan is best.

Little Moments

Today Ada started swinging her arms. She did it while she was waiting patiently in the kitchen for a snack. Picture a little 15 month old in her too big 18 month footie pajamas. She brings me a bowl and I ask her if she wants a snack. She nods her head and says, "nack." She watches me go into the pantry and come out with the fruity cheerios box (don't judge) and hands me the bowl. Then she starts swinging her arms. Back to front, back to front. She can sort of hold a bowl without spilling all of its contents but only for about 30 seconds and only if she's not mobile. They spill! Then she sits and starts eating them off the floor and putting some back in the bowl. It's a bit of a mess. Especially if they don't get picked up and they get crushed but the dog will clean them up soon enough. I will hand that sweet toddler a bowl full of fruity cheerios and deal with crushed cereal all day long if she swings those arms so sweetly while she waits. It's the little moments like this that I hope I don't forget when they grow up.

Sunshine Falling

Here it is. Fall again. Spring had always been my season. I loved the new blooms and the warm air coming in. My birthday is in May so that probably played a large role in my love of the season. But seven years ago a new season took over for me. Seven years ago I began to see things differently.

We were still fairly new to the midwest so the Fall colors lit up my days like I'd never experienced before. I saw colors in nature I'd never seen.  We were anticipating the birth of our first baby. Gracie came in November and I anticipated that day with so much hope and love that it happened. Fall became, for me, the best time of year.

Fast forward seven years and three babies born in November and this time of year is exciting! I am still floored by these colors. Every chance we get I ooo and aww over this canvas that God creates for us. In the car the kids and I like to point out the beautiful reds and oranges as they start to peep through the foliage. The weather turns cool and we light the fire and snuggle up with a movie. We roast marshmallows in the back yard. We celebrate these babies and another good year with them.

Right now we are struggling through illness. For the past three weeks one of my sweet littles has been sick. I suppose it's better than all at once but it sure does drag on like this. I can catch myself frustrated at life and letting the joy fall out. Angry that sickness exists and that I have to watch my babies in pain. But then we hop in the car to drive through Chick-fil-A (because a mom has got to get out of the house y'all) and we ooo and aww over the colors. The trees in our neighborhood are like fire. The burning bushes are a shade of pink only God could create. The orange leaves are starting to fall to the ground and they look like sunshine. Sunshine Falling. And there it is...a little lift in my step. Thank you Father for the reminders of who you are - creator, sustainer, life-giver. Sometimes my eyes get clouded by the weight of it all. But today I see the sunshine you've laid out before me. Joy.

Watching the Sky

We let the kids stay up for the eclipse tonight. We lit a fire and roasted marshmallows. The sky was covered in clouds. I finished up some reading and as I did I prayed for clear skies so that my kids could see this amazing event. I walked outside and, sure enough, the moon! I made a point to tell them my prayers were answered. Don't we all need to hear things like that sometimes? I sat in my comfy patio chair in front of the fire. The kids wanted to sit in my lap. How could I say no? We sat and watched the moon. The clouds moved across the expanse and I spotted what can only be described as a rainbow in the night sky. It was amazing. And my kids were there to see it. We oohed and awwed over the colorful spot in the sky. A reminder of God's promises to us.

I texted my parents, they got in their car to drive to the country to find a good spot to watch. They almost forgot about it! We reminisced over a lunar eclipse from a vacation when I was a child and the sharks that came along with it. I only remember the sharks but I'm sure the eclipse thing happened too.

We joked with Gracie and Evan about how the next time an eclipse like this occurs they will be out of the house. They will be texting us to remind us to watch it.

Nights like this, I don't want to forget. I want to hold on to them. I want my kids to remember staying up 2 hours past bedtime, eating boy scout popcorn and s'mores and watching the sky.

Delivered

Pain and hurt surround me. Brokenness seems to be taking over. Tragedy envelopes this world in so many ways. Every day I try to look away but there it remains. It's getting closer it seems. It's getting worse I think. I meditate on this, "Is it really worse or do I see more now? Does it hurt more or does it hurt differently?"

As I get older I can't help but wonder if this world we live in is really changing or if I just didn't see it before. I see the results of the deceiver's work and wonder if his grip is getting tighter.

There is a song by Matt Maher on the radio. It is called deliverer. It has been growing in my heart every time I hear it. Do you experience that? A song that strengthens you. A song that speaks to you in the exact right moment. I received very sad news on Tuesday and it immediately came on in the car.  It was on my radar and now it lives in my heart.  I am leaving the lyrics here because I pray that they will wash over you as they have me. I pray that in all of life's circumstances the angels will sing us home and that we can shout with child-like faith that God is our deliverer.

I was a drifter, I had nowhere to go
I was hanging by threads of dust and bone
Every angel I knew was singing son come home
But the melody was hard to sing along

Oh God, You're my deliverer
The One, the One who carries us
Oh God, You're my deliverer

I was on trial for everything I did
And there's no way I could make a stand and win
When you realize the verdict is already in
You let go of the brokenness within
Well there's only One who can ever stand and win

Oh God, You're my deliverer
The One, the One who carries us
Oh God, You're my deliverer
The One, the One who carries us

And now I'm like a child at night
Who never has to think of why
We're free to love and live and die
And there's no need to justify
The sinner that's inside of me
Has lost all his control of me

My God, from the flood and from the fire
You brought me out, I am alive
With a faith, just like a child
I'm not afraid, I'm running wild
For everything that will be done
I am yours and you are my
Deliverer

The One, the One who carries us
God, You're my deliverer
The One, the One who carries us
Oh God, You're my deliverer
The One, the One who carries us
Oh God, You're my deliverer
The One, the One who carries us
God, You're my deliverer

I was hanging by threads of dust and bone

- Deliverer by Matt Maher

Parenthood

School starts tomorrow. My first baby starts first grade. I remember when Gracie was born. The day, the hour, the minute. I remember the ride on my hospital bed to my recovery room with her in my arms. I remember being told a few hours later there was some fear for me as they had trouble getting my temperature back to normal. I had no idea. I was lost in the "meeting moments" with my new baby girl. I didn't recognize her like I thought I would. Instead I was meeting this little one for the first time in the outside world. I knew her but I didn't know her yet.  I had friends with kids who were five, six and seven. I remember thinking, "We have so much time until we get to that point in our parenthood." I was wrong. 

Evan is three and half. He starts preschool at the church in a couple of weeks. I remember preparing for his arrival. I remember feeling like I may not have enough to give with two kids. I remember my heart growing to fit them both the instant he was born. I remember all of his hair and those dark eyes. He had a chin dimple. I remember putting him in the car next to Gracie to go home and thinking how perfectly his blue looked next to her pink. I remember rocking and singing sweet songs to him. I remember holding him those first few days and thinking, "He cannot be my last baby." Gracie was three, starting to dress herself and communicate in words instead of tantrums. It was going to be so long until Evan was there. I was wrong.

Ada is almost nine months old. I remember, less than a year ago, preparing our new home for her. I remember getting up early on November 21st. I remember the nurses sticking me over and over to get an IV in. I remember how loud she cried in the operating room. I remember being so surprised by her dark hair and skin. I remember the quiet of the hospital room as we cuddled the most content baby we had ever experienced. I remember bringing her to our new house and it suddenly felt like our home. I remember those first few months when she would sleep anywhere with all the bustle of life around her. I remember taking my time with her. I remember cherishing the quiet moments feeding her. I remember, in my motherhood exhaustion just last week, thinking to myself, "She is just a baby, she needs me at 5:30 in the morning." I am more aware now of how fast it goes. I know that I will blink and she will be sleeping all night most nights. The memories of her first moments will start to fade. I will forget what her babbling voice sounded like. In an instant she will be in first grade and I will think to myself, "We have so much time until we send her out into the big world." And I will be wrong. 

Home

Gracie is adjusting well to Kindergarten. She likes her teacher and seems to be enjoying making new friends. She likes to go everyday but only has one complaint. She feels as though she doesn't have enough time to enjoy home. She has more than once complained about not being able to play with her toys or sit and do a craft project. I know she is playing and learning at school but there is just something about being home that is good for the soul. For me it is a place to relax, recharge, regroup and prepare for going out into the world again. For Gracie it is a place to play and create and be herself.

For several months we were uprooted and I could feel it. And the kids could feel it. And, if I'm honest, we were all a bit grumpy. Now we are starting to find those roots again. We are settling in to our new home. 

I have not done much sitting still. We are quickly working to get our new place in order so that we can accomplish a few of the items on the "Prepare for baby #3" list before this sweet little girl makes her arrival. Hopefully in due time and not before. 

But today, I'm sitting a little. I'm enjoying hearing Evan play in the basement. I'm enjoying the organizing we have done and fully confident we will get to the rest in time. I am basking in the peace that the Lord has provided in the midst of all these boxes and bubble wrap. I am thanking Him for the blessing of home and all the love it is filled with.  

New Life

It's been a strange year filled with Mountains and Valleys. I feel like it really got away from me. As though, for most of the months since my last post (nearly a year ago) I have been sort of floating along on a high or trying desperately to stay above the water in a low.

In October, as we beamed over our children, we decided that we just might be crazy enough to add to our little bunch. We were blessed with two pink lines fairly quickly. By December we knew our family would be growing and then before Christmas our second little angel made his way to Heaven. As often happens with miscarriage I sunk pretty low. I was able to see purpose in God's plan this time and I trusted ultimately in His timing for our family. But that didn't keep me from feeling sad. From experiencing the grief that comes with loss. I stayed above the water. God held me above the water. He brought good work in to my life in the form of family management. I really started to enjoy my kids and my home and just working every day to serve those around me. We decided that we would embark on the journey of selling our home and buying a new one which kept me busy and mostly sane as we continued to trust God for His timing in growing our family.

And then again we started to feel the joy of new life. The excitement of an addition to our family. The excitement, though, that comes post miscarriage. Cautiously optimistic. Praying without ceasing. Hopes high but not too high.

We are over that hump now. This new little sister has abundant life and likes to make me aware of her presence every time I sit still. It is a beautiful feeling. Life, abundant. I often think about whether or not I will get to see my babies faces in Heaven one day. Will I know that I am, in fact, a mother of five there? Or will the Glory of God overcome me and all the things of this world pass from my memory so that all I can do is look on Him? I'm not sure. Either way will be okay with me. Either way I imagine my arms will be stretched wide either in praise to my Father in Heaven or in a hug so big that all of my sweet babies will fit within my embrace. I hope it's both. I really hope it's both.

Looking up

Evan and I went on our usual Wednesday lunch date today. We were at Paradise Bakery. If you know me you are incredibly surprised by this (read with much sarcasm).

While there, Evan looked straight up to check things out. He pointed to the fan and the ducts.

In all of his curiosity he is drawn upward. At lunch the phrase, "looking up" stuck in my mind. Here it is, sweet sweet nap time, and I am still mulling it over in my head.

I've thought lately about how I should look up from my phone more. About how I should just put it down and watch the kids play. About how it doesn't really matter if I've received an email in the last 10 minutes or checked to see what all my Facebook friends are doing. Maybe if I look up more I'll catch a glimpse of this wonderful life and feel connected to my kids a bit more. Maybe I won't be so frustrated when they ask for help or need some attention because my vision is not divided among so many unimportant things but is better focused on what's around me and what's important. Maybe I can stop considering what the internet tells me is a kept home and start reflecting on all the love and joy that exists within my own home. Maybe it would free me to focus upward as Evan does.

Yes, that's it. I think I will put my phone down more often and see where the Spirit takes my thoughts. I will wait quietly for guidance from above and rest in the peace that being with Jesus brings. I will play with my kids and manage my home with a song in my heart and a smile on my face instead of a phone in my hands and Facebook on my mind.

Can you feel that? Can you feel the sun on your face as you look up? I can. And it is glorious.

Scripture

Gracie snuck out of quiet time today. She was coming to the living room to get a little chair to take back for whatever game she was playing in her room.

I was reading in 2 Thessalonians and a verse struck the "children" chord in my heart so I was praying specifically for her and Evan when she came into the room with a smile on her face. It was a smile that said, "Is this okay? Can I get this chair? I'm having fun." I smiled back and heard a whisper in my heart that said, "Show her." So I did.

"May the Lord direct your hearts into the love of God and into the steadfastness of Christ." 2 Thessalonians 3: 5

I showed her the circled verse and read it to her. We talked about how it is a prayer I say for them. I told her that I prayed that God would fill her heart with love for Him and that she would always, always, always remember that Jesus is with her and that He loves her. She smiled big, the way she does right before bed when I look her straight in the eyes and tell her she is so loved and that I am so glad God put her in our family. The way she does when I linger a little with a long hug before turning out the lights. That smile always makes me feel like maybe I'm doing this mom thing okay. It's a smile that feels love. That appreciates hearing her mom talk about how special she is and how blessed we are to have her.

In the parenting class at church a few months ago we talked about the importance of our children seeing us with the scriptures. We read from the kids Bibles and little devotion books pretty frequently but they probably don't see me reading my Bible often enough. My quiet time is usually during their quiet time because, let's face it, reading scriptures for insight is not an easy feat when two noisy and nosey little ones are underfoot. Today I'm thankful that God gave me this tiny little moment to show Gracie a scripture that is on my heart. Maybe it will stay in hers too.

Angel Kisses

Hello, my name is Kelly and I lied to my daughter.

It's true. I did. Before she could talk I told her that freckles were angel kisses. And we still talk about it often. Sometimes she gets a new one and comes to me excited about it. Today she asked if angels kiss dogs too because she found some spots on Preston's (the dogs) tummy.

I told her this because my mom told me the same thing when I was little and I have not once despised my freckles. In fact, I quite like them. And there are many of them so it's a good thing I do like them.

I could feel bad about this, but I don't. Because, really, do you know where freckles come from?

When We Pray

Oh, these babies. These babies that take the words right out of me. When my little ones are tiny I put them to bed at night and sometimes make this little sound that can only be described as a grunt. Matt heard it once and thought I was upset or frustrated about something. Understandable, since it does have a bit of "umph" to it. I had to explain to him that sometimes when I look at them all sweet and cozy and peaceful my love for them literally cannot be kept inside and sort of escapes as that sound.

Small moments in my day bring forth that sound. When Gracie, so peacefully helps her brother with something without being asked. When Evan runs to give Gracie a hug without being prompted. When a wrong choice has been made and we come together to forgive and talk about grace. When Gracie tells me about the tadpole at preschool that did not make it and how he is in heaven now but, "Don't worry because the people there are taking care of him and so is God." When we stop to pray before bed and Evan sits down and folds his hands (for the prayer that will be short and sweet so as to encourage his sitting for such an occasion without expecting too much from an 18 month old). These moments are fleeting. They are fast and I'm sure many go by without me noticing.

But then I have a week like the last few that force me to slow down and enjoy the little things. I have big things on my mind. I have struggles within me that are slowly bubbling to the surface and they cause my mind to constantly be searching for God and His will and He is bringing me to these moments. To these prayers that are uttered in between dishes and laundry and sopping wet carpets. To these moments where my love for my children reminds me of my Father's love for me.

I have no doubt He speaks to me through them. I have no doubt that the way I feel for them is only a sampling of what He feels for me. For all of His children. I so love that He reminds me of that by opening my eyes to the small moments that take my breath away.

Note to Gracie and Evan:

You are both wonderful. You are little lights that shine in my everyday. Though you are human and make mistakes, as I do, you are deserving of grace in every way. Though you are little and learning you still find ways to make me go, "Hmmm?" You keep me on my toes and you help me dance a little while I'm there. You keep me laughing and sometimes crying and always loving.

Mom Guilt

Facebook has become something strange to me. It is a great way to keep up with friends and to communicate with my church family but it is also, at times, a great source of guilt for me. Not guilt in general but mom guilt. There is a plethora of information on the web about raising children. There are opinions about everything and scientific facts to back up nearly every opinion. The articles that get posted on Facebook are often at one end of the spectrum or the other. There are not many "in between" articles to read because, well, those aren't very interesting. 

I know my Facebook friends post articles because they are passionate about a subject or because they feel like it might help another mom and I bet they do sometimes. I bet some moms come away from those articles thinking, "I didn't know that, maybe I'll try XYZ next time ABC happens." Or maybe a new mom reads and finds comfort in some advice she's been waiting for. For that reason those articles are nice to see come across my feed. 

But every once in awhile one of those articles hits me the wrong way. It eats at my heart trying to convince me that I did it wrong. That my little guy will not turn out okay because I accidentally forgot to open his door one night when he was an infant and so didn't hear him cry to eat in the night (true story). Or that my sweet girl will be overly needy because one night when she was a baby and feeding wasn't going smoothly I had to set her down and walk away for a bit because exhaustion and post pregnancy hormones don't always unite to create a euphoric state of being (another true story).

One of those articles popped up last night. I felt the wave of guilt come on quickly. I jumped up from my seat and began to circle the house. Gracie, Evan, bedroom. Kitchen, water. Not helping. Praying. Laying hands on my girl. God bless her. Erase my wrongs so that she will prevail a strong, confident woman who knows you and loves you and shares you with others. Laying hands on my boy. God bless him. Erase my wrongs so that he will prevail a strong, confident man who knows you and loves you and shares you with others. God remove this guilt. Bring peace. Bring Peace. Computer on. Words coming. Tears falling. Husband affirming. Word of God calming. Peace coming. In God resting. Sleep healing. Daughter waking. Son cooing. Joy coming. Sun shining. 

In my therapeutic writing last night I defined two terms that are very relevant to me in my season of life. 

Mom guilt [mom gilt]

noun

The nagging feeling that you are not doing it right.

Mom Peace [mom pees]

noun

1. Remembering that God created you with purpose and one of those purposes is to raise these babies with His help and guidance. 

2. Recognition that there are many ways to "train a child in the way he should go" (Pvb 22:6) but only one God to point him towards. 

3. Relief in knowing that God will "never leave you nor forsake you" (Heb. 13:5) in life or in parenthood.

"So we say with confidence, "The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?"" Hebrews 13:6

I could not do this mom thing alone. The Lord has provided me with such wonderful support in the form of a wonderful husband, loving parents and amazing friends. I am constantly leaning on Him to pick up the broken pieces of a situation I created in my faulty human way. I am continually praying that guilt will leave and grace will stay. Grace, not just for my kids and my people but for myself too.