summer

We are exactly one week out from the first day of school.

Oh, and this is Wilson's last year of elementary school {if God keeps us in the area}.  Tears have been shed over this.  {Wilson has already stated that he prefers if I do NOT accompany him to his classroom on the first day of school.}

This summer has just been a sweet gift.  Perfect?  No.  But just extraordinarily pleasant.  I think it helps that last summer was pretty much exactly the opposite.  I knew it was hard then, heavy and lonely and just plain exhausting.

I really didn't know what to expect of this summer.  I made a sketchy-plan (sketchy = pencil lines; not sketchy = shady characters).  I tried to be a bit more intentional with some things that I let slide last year.  I begged God to make this time sweet.  And He did.  More so than I could have imagined.

When you open your hands to offer to God what you have, it is thrilling to watch Him fill them back up with the most lovely gifts.  He did this over and over throughout these summer days.

If I am honest, I don't want it to end.

I like the little rhythm we created these lazy summer days.  I even like the extra messes from exploring new things.

In looking at the snapshots, I am reminded that He gives good gifts...in His time.  It would be silly to not expect Him to be able to do the same as the school year begins.

I am trying to be deliberate with these last few lazy days, soaking up the precious time.

I am also asking God to help me pry my hands open to offer this school year to Him.  I know He will fill it with better things than I can imagine.  If only I wait for Him and trust His wisdom.

"For the LORD God is a sun and shield; The LORD gives grace and glory; No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly."  Psalm 84 11

from Sara Groves, "Open My Hands".

five minute friday :: broken

I'm writing with a timer set for five minutes, the writing prompt this week is broken.

GO

Last night I saw a little heart break.  Daddy was at men's bible study so while I slathered the boys in lotion (just the youngest two) and got their jammies on, we talked about where Daddy was.  Because normally, he's on the floor with me for this part - and some nights its just him doing it.  So when he's not there, he is missed.

We talked about how Daddy loves God and he goes to bible study to learn more about Him.  And that it helps Daddy love us better.  I told the boys, in toddler language, that we could pray for the job God is getting ready for Daddy.

I don't know what I said, but the saddest little cry came from Lincoln, "MY DADDY!"  Just over and over, "my daddy, my daddy!"

I reassured him that Daddy would ALWAYS be his daddy - no matter what his new job might be. "Daddy will always always always be your daddy, Lincoln."

When we came downstairs I had to retell a bit of the story to the big boys because Lincoln & Franklin were repeating parts of our talk, like, "Love God" and what not.  When I told the part about Lincoln getting upset, he lost it.

Bawled.  Heart broken.  "My daddy!"  All over again, but louder and sadder this time.

I don't know what triggered this deep fear in this little heart, but I know it was real.  Even there was nothing about it to understand, I knew his little heart was broken at the thought of his daddy getting a new job that didn't involve him being his daddy.

Daddy will always always always be YOUR Daddy.

done.  

I feel like there is so much more to say about this.  But I am a rule follower.  I am ignoring the grammatical errors up there, and linking this up anyway.

Lisa Jo's blog is down because of that fantastically, awesome post she wrote about her husband this week.  It was shared around so much that it made her blog crash.  So she's hosting the link-up on FB today.  You can find her here, if you want to check it out.

worship

Yesterday was a work day for Brad.  I still dislike that he has to work some Sundays, but when I remind myself that I went to church solo for 15 months of Sundays, it doesn't seem nearly so bad.

There was something dynamic in our worship yesterday.  Or at least it seemed like it to me.  I do adore belting out the songs at our church.  In my mind, I feel like I can sing as loudly as I want and nobody else can hear me, which allows me to sing as loudly as possible.  The lead-worshipper did say yesterday that he was tempted to hand his microphone to a guy in the front row because he was singing so loudly, so perhaps my assessment of "nobody else can hear me" is off.  I'll just keep on belting out the songs.

As I sang and we collectively poured our worship offerings before God I just felt this peace.  The kind that can't be shaken.  The kind that says no matter where we go, God is already there.  No matter what job Brad gets, God is already preparing him for it.  No matter which school district we live in, our God will be there too.  An unshakable peace.  In those peace-filled moments, my thoughts led me to some of the things I am praying for others too... that this peace would be theirs even in the middle of the circumstances they encounter.

We sang a new-to-our-church song, which has long been belted out in my car, living room, and even on my street while I run.  I awoke with it in my mind again this morning.

I had intended to type up this little post this morning, but I could not figure out how to pair the keyboard to my iPad [is that even the right way to say that?] {I don't dare turn on the desktop in the quiet hours while boys still sleep!}  I played the song on repeat instead, and as I reflected on the lyrics it turns out God had some things He needed to reveal to me first.  I was a little caught off guard by a disconnect that God pointed out to me.

You see, while we are waiting for the Army to decide how much longer Brad will be in; Brad is hustling to search out job listings and tweaking his resume.  All the while, I stand by and say "wherever!"  And if I am being honest, I am a little proud of my willingness to go wherever.  There I said it.  And that's not even the worst part.  Gah.

Here comes the disconnect.  Brad found a job posting last night.  He printed it out and brought it to me.  It is basically a job description of all of his skills.  It is almost as if the person that wrote the job description had watched Brad at work for the last seven years.  I could barely finish reading it because my jaw was hanging open.

When we figured out where it was located.  My "wherever!" attitude was nowhere to be found.  Instead, I was shocked at my first thoughts about the location.  And embarrassed.

God was not surprised.  Not even a little.  He knows my heart.  And He ever-so-gently reminds me of this often.  Today, He is calling out my "wherever!"  I can't begin to predict if Brad will get this job and we'll move to the state of Washington someday.  It doesn't even matter today if that will happen.

The important thing is that God is correcting me in a grace-filled-peace-giving way.  All I can do, is humbly ask Him to prepare my heart and continue to call me out in the places that I haven't surrendered as much as I thought I had.  I don't just want to sing of surrender and feel peace while the music plays.  I want to live it out.  I truly want my "wherever!" to be honest.  He will continue to refine my heart in this process.  There is so much work to be done, I'm so grateful that He is so faithful.

"I lay me down.  I'm not my own. I belong to you alone.  Lay me down.  Lay me down.
Oh! Hand on my heart, this much is true; there's no life apart from you.  Lay me down."

photo scavenger hunt fun!

So you might have noticed the little "I blog for Compassion" button over there on the right side bar.  Its a recent addition to the blog, although I've posted a few times over the years about our involvement with Compassion International.  By signing up, I basically volunteered to write about prompts that will be emailed out.

So this is the first "officially prompted" Compassion International post!  Fun, huh?

Even more fun is that the prompt was basically to read about the Photo Scavenger Hunt that Compassion International is hosting for the remainder of the month of July.  Read here to find out all about it.  You can totally join in on the fun.

Its a way to celebrate their two year mark on instagram.  I wanted to wait to participate until Wilson and Walker got back from Camp Barbie.  I think they will have fun searching for the items to photograph with me. Of course, one of the items was easy enough for me to just turn and snap right here.




Oh, and did I mention there are prizes?  You know me with prizes, right?  Check them out! Giddy.  I tell you.

We love the work that Compassion International is doing around the world.  It is an honor to play a small part in their bigger work.  By supporting a child, we are helping to keep his birth family intact.  I know its hard to imagine from the comforts of North America, but the depth of poverty in some parts of the world is a major factor in the orphan crisis.  Compassion International does an outstanding job of releasing children from poverty in Jesus' name!  They take a holistic approach and the benefits that children in their programs receive end up helping their entire family to some extent.  Their approach has even been researched by a third party with outstanding results... read more here.

I could go on and on.  If you have questions, please do not hesitate to ask.  I believe with all my heart that Compassion is in the business of orphan-prevention.  It is a critical piece to the larger Orphan Care movement.

ten!

All the cliches about how fast time flies seriously don't really capture it. 

Unbelievable.  Truly.

Here you are, ten years old.  I am ever impressed with the person you are becoming.  I rarely catch glimpses of "baby-Wilson" anymore, rather every once in awhile I catch a glimpse of the man you are becoming.  As your mother, it makes me both proud and terrified.

I still can't believe we let you play tackle football last year.  You ran onto that field fearless...oblivious to the size discrepancies between you and 90% of the other players.  You worked hard.  At practice and at games.  I think I knew this before but you proved it during football.  You have no quit in you.

School was a little bit tougher this year, not the work so much as the environment.  I know it wasn't always easy.  The thing that impressed me though, was that you were able to make the best of it anyway.   You came up with some of the sweetest adjectives to describe your teacher and I know you meant it.  It is a gift to be able to accept the way things are, then to go a step further and make things the best they can be.  You go a step further every chance you get.

I know God has wired you uniquely.  I pray you will always strive to be true to the way He wired you - especially when your wiring seems different than most.   I appreciate your ability to empathize with others.  When your little brothers are bothered by something, you quickly try and come up with a solution for them - and when there is no solution to be found, you offer your comfort.  It is always a joy to watch this happen, even if maybe you shouldn't be offering comfort to someone in time-out. 

Happy birthday bud, I pray great things for the year ahead.  Even if we end up moving to Africa...God is the one that is preparing the next place for us.  

a decade of motherhood

This morning I laid awake for a few minutes before mustering the energy to get out of bed. Last night I had fallen asleep quickly, but then I woke up and could. not. get. back. to. sleep.

So the first half of the night was long because I was trying to fall asleep without keeping the man awake.  I do a lot of my best praying during these awake-but-wish-to-be-asleep times.  Eventually, after revisiting my mental prayer list a few times, I did fall asleep.

Then Franklin woke up.  Screaming.  I am not sure how long that went on.  Longer than any of us hoped, that is for sure.  I was awake, but useless because I had just fallen asleep shortly before the screaming began.

This morning when my clock told me it was time to get up, I was slow moving.  I prayed about my mothering, before rolling out of bed.  I know these days that follow nights with little sleep are generally tough ones.

Sometime between rolling out of bed and pouring that first cup of coffee while the house was quiet, I thought back to 10 years ago today.  July 17, 2003, I drank a concoction of raspberry tea and castor oil.  While the initial aftermath was wretched, I am pretty sure I had forgotten about it by the time I went to bed that evening.  When I woke-up with stomach cramps, I thought it was the castor oil, but didn't think it was labor.  First-time pregnancy bliss!

  

(we put on a happy face for the camera)

 I didn't wake Brad because I was pretty sure the castor oil was only going to cause intestinal unpleasantness. {That was the warning in everything I read, but I tried it anyway.}  I quietly went into the nursery (where eventually that sweet baby never ever slept), and began reading some of the children's books we had neatly tucked into a basket. I prayed. I sang hymns. I acknowledged how scary this whole motherhood thing was that loomed before me.  I felt like I needed to get it right and yet knew nothing about how to do that.  I whispered dreams for this baby to the Author of all dreams.

(this photo tells the story a little more accurately)

 

Its funny how many times, ten years later; I still think those thoughts.  And pray those prayers.  And sing those hymns.  And whisper those dreams.  In the middle of the night.  In the quiet mornings.

I'm grateful that God always meets me in those places.  Ever faithful.  Always ready.

just do the next thing

Sometimes my mind overwhelms me.  I think over things I don't necessarily need to be thinking about... a lot of times, I pre-think.  Please tell me I am not the only one.  You know, you spend time thinking over something that you don't actually have to think about until later on down the road?  Super common, right?  (Right??)

I think some people would classify it as daydreaming.  Others might call it worry.

Here's how it went down recently for me.

Many of you have generously sent donations to fill up the clothing racks and fulfill the need for bags.  Also, during VBS the kids brought in toiletries throughout the week - enough to fill and overflow the shelves.

this is seriously only a portion of the toiletries.  and see all those various size diapers?  so awesome

I started thinking about what might be next.  Should there an off-site location to handle the overflow of donations?  Should we begin thinking about potentially starting something like Taylor's Closet?  or Our Big House?  The what's next pre-thinking thoughts begin to jumble up the what's now thoughts and before too long there's just a mangled mess of  worried-daydreams in my thinking space.  Gross.

This messy-mind is enough to plant my feet firmly in the muck of uncertainty.  When my feet get planted in uncertainty its hard to move.

But God says, "Sister, get over yourself.  Just do the next thing."  {paraphrase of Psalm 143:10}

So the next thing for now, is to share the list of supplies that we still need downtown. 

Remember, this supply closet is a place where caseworker's can grab what they need for kiddos that have come in to care.  In the scheme of things, its just a little something to help the difficult day go a little smoother.  If there are clothes in the appropriate size and toiletries available to help a child get washed up, it frees the caseworkers up to get to the work of finding a home for the child to go to.  

Items needed:

Girls' New Clothing

• newborn - filled
• 3-6 months - filled
• 6-9 months - filled
• 12 months - need 1 outfit
• 18 months - filled
• 24 months - filled
• 2T - need 3 outfits
• 3T - need 3 outfits
• 4T - need 3 outfits
• XS (4/5)- need 1 outfit
• S (6/7) - filled
• M  (8)- need 1 outfit
• L (10/12)- need 1 outfit
• XL & Juniors (size 14 and up) need a few outfits*
• need girls' socks all sizes

a peek at the clothes.  there are 4 more racks like this!

Boys' New Clothing

• newborn - filled
• 3-6 months - filled
• 6-9 months - filled
• 12 months - filled
• 18 months - need 1 outfit
• 24 months - filled
• 2T - need 1 outfit
• 3T - need 1 outfit
• 4T - need 1 outfit
• XS - filled
• S - filled
• M - filled
• L - need 1 outfit
• XL & Juniors, need a few outfits*
• need boys' underwear 2T, 3T, 4T, and XS, S

Another need is blankets.  Often times children spend quite a bit of time at the office while the caseworkers they to find a home for them.  As with most large buildings in the south, the AC is cold.  It would be nice for the kiddos to be comforted with a blanket during their wait.  The blanket would then become theirs to keep.  If you are crafter and want to make some, bring it!

* There are some larger clothing items in the storage closet, but most of it doesn't go together and the sizes are random.  Generally speaking, this size range is not needed as often.  Usually an older child will be able to dress and care for themselves - however, if an older child has come in to care and is in need of a change of clothes, etc, I would surely think they are keenly aware of it... which is why I desperately want to provide a few outfits there as well.  

If you have any questions ask here or on FB.  I'll be in touch!

five minute friday - present

I am doing the five-minute-friday thing again.I thought I would include the rules if you want to see them... its pretty simple!
 
1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

See? Simple!

 

Present.  GO:

This morning when I went out for my run, I didn't turn on a playlist.  It was just me, my heavy breathing, that lady from runkeeper periodically telling me how fast to run, and my prayers.

I prayed for a friend that is pregnant, in the at-risk-years; and she's weary.  I prayed for renewed energy and confidence.  I prayed she would sense His presence.

I prayed for a job for Brad.  Not just one that pays the bills, but one that floods his heart and challenges him everyday to seek God's presence more. 

I prayed for a courtdate with a little baby in the middle, and all of the hearts that will be impacted for a lifetime by the decision today.  I only know to believe that God is present there.

I prayed for housing for friends, and upcoming moves, and challenges that might measure small to some but are big when they are right in front of you.

I felt his presence as I ran around my little bitty neighborhood streets.  I know He heard these prayers and that He interceded in ways that I didn't know how.  It is refreshing to run in His presence even in the heat and humidity here.

He is always present.  Sometimes I just ignore Him.  I hate that.  I hope He continues to draw me closer.

{so much that I want to go back and edit here.  But I am following the rules anyway}

out of the blue

I have just a little special moment to share with you. 

Maybe it struck me as so special because last summer was just so hard.  Lots of little illnesses, combined with a heart-wrenching trial, all while becoming a family of 6 but waiting for the courts to make it official.  Hard summer days.

So this summer has just held a whole lot of joy in the middle of little regular moments, like boys splashing in our tiny pool while I blow bubbles.  Special treasure.

This morning, though, I got a little extra treasure out of the blue.   As Wilson & Walker and I discussed what to pack for "Camp Barbie" we also talked about how many days they would be away. 

I told the them that I wasn't sure if they would be back on Tuesday or Wednesday.  Walker said, "Well, I hope it will be Thursday."  Wilson replied, "Thursday is my birthday."

Then Wilson adds the little extra nugget of treasure.

"And as fun as it would be to celebrate my birthday at Mrs. Barbie's house, I would like to have my little brothers there."

And I almost cried.  It is so fun to glimpse the beauty God creates.

I'm sharing this post today as part of a link up at Chasing Blue Skies.  Its a fun way to reflect on a little special blessing that God brings you right out of the blue!  You can join in here!

the things we carry

I posted this picture yesterday; with the little story about the elderly man that gave me the crosses.  He quietly approached our family at Subway and gestured to Linc and Frank and asked, "are these your boys?"  After nodding yes, he quickly asked if they were adopted, another nod yes, and with a bit of relief he told us that he was an adoptive father too.  Before leaving, he pulled these little crosses from his pocket for the boys, and told us that the wood was from Isreal (I think, I keep forgetting to fact-check this with Brad).

This will be added to the stories I carry with me.  

It got me thinking of another story that I've been carrying around with me.  I think its time to share it with y'all.  I don't think I ever told you about this unexpectedly difficult event while we were transitioning from a family of four to a family of six.

We were in the middle of the back-and-forth days.  I'd pick Lincoln & Franklin up from the foster parents' house after I dropped the bigs at school.  We'd spend the day at home practicing meals, and naps, and playing in the living room.  After dinner, we'd pack up and drive across town to take the boys back to the foster parents' house.  These were long, hard, exhausting days. 

Caught in the middle, with no clue how long it might last.

On one of these long days, I got a text from the foster momma to call our caseworker.  Great.

Our caseworker was hoping we could "stop by" and be on a panel for one of the foster-parent-training classes.  That night.  Super.

We were less than thrilled that we had been chosen to take this show on the road; we'd been in those classes, and we didn't feel like we were in a position to really offer anything.  We were still in a place where Lincoln and Franklin weren't always thrilled with us being the ones to offer comfort.  The idea of putting the transition on display for a bunch of hopeful future foster/adoptive parents made me a bit of a wreck.  But we were also caught in the middle, and didn't want to be contrary in any way that could possibly make this process take longer.

{Now that I am out of the middle, I don't really think saying "no" would've had an adverse impact on the process, but the thing is, when you are in the middle it feels like it all weighs heavy.}

After dinner, we did our best to make ourselves presentable.  Surely I put my crazy-end-of-the-day hair in a pony tail.  We wiped off four faces and combed hair quickly.  We made sure we had some of those Gerber fruit puffs in the diaper bag and agreed to let Wilson and Walker bring whatever gaming device they wanted.  Although, I do remember suggesting Wilson bring a book to read.  

Because, really, wouldn't that look better while we were on the panel?

On our way there we had to wait on a train crossing the street.  And then reversing back across the street.  And then pulling forward again.  I sent some texts to our caseworker to let her know we were going to be late.  She tried to suggest an alternate route, but we were not familiar with any of the other roads to get to the DFCS office.  I broke into a bit of a sweat.  I did not want to be a sweaty mess when we got there - which I think made me sweat all the more.

We finally made it and  walked in to a full room; 30-40ish people maybe.  Our seats were right up front facing the class.  I suggested Wilson and Walker sit off to the side where some chairs lined the wall - thinking if we could reduce the number in our show, then the presentation might be more polished.  Of course, some "do-gooder" quickly got up and dragged two more chairs right up front next to ours.  Thanks, man.

The caseworker introduced the entire panel.  Our family, an investigator, another caseworker, someone I don't remember, and...

...a boy that wanted a family.  

Oh my heart.

His parents' rights had been terminated, he had no family members to go to. 

Y'all.  I could not look down the line at him.  I think he was 11 or so.

At this moment, I was grateful that I had been so self-absorbed when we walked in that I didn't notice him sitting there. 

I could barely handle it.  

The caseworker graciously started with us so we could leave immediately following the question time.  The thing is, I don't remember the questions we were asked.  

All I can remember is that there was a little boy sitting on a panel in front of a room full of adults because he wanted a family.  I remember that I wondered about who was sitting with him, was someone holding his hand?  I think I tried to inaudibly whisper to Brad that I could not look down there.  

We weren't there long, the babies were fussing, it was late, and it was a school night.  When we got back to the van I was once again absorbed with the daily tasks during this middle place of transitioning.

But I carry this story with me.  It comes to mind more often than I can say.  The memory of the brave boy on the panel.  He is a reminder of so many others just like him that are waiting.  For a family to call their own.

Right now, I don't know what else I can do but share his story.  And pray.

"A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in His holy dwelling.  God sets the lonely in families, he leads out the prisoners with singing; but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land."  Psalm 68:5-6

five minute friday : beautiful

I am taking a little bit of a departure here, I thought I should tell the four of you that read this thing on a regular basis.  I've decided to participate in a writing-prompt-party on Fridays.  It's only five minutes and anyone can join.  I thought it would be a fun way to get some words out there without thinking too terribly much about it.  I'm writing this introduction after I did my "five minutes" and I gotta admit, I am a bit of a sweaty mess after that timer starts - and maybe a teensy bit more so before linking up.  I think its good to stretch a bit though.  Feel free to check out the party here.





Five Minute Friday

BEAUTIFUL

I used to think the word beautiful applied to things like sunsets, and rainbows, and super models and artwork.  I thought "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" meant that it was something that changed from person to person.  But I don't think that anymore.  I think the beholder can train her eye to see beauty...  and pretty soon there are beautiful things all around.

A toddler hand on a mommy arm.  Boys that scramble to the door when daddy comes home.  Clouds racing across a bright blue sky.  Fresh fruit for picking.  Dream-sharing date nights.  A grandmother that repeats the same answer to grandpa over and over, with the same intonation each time; weary but not giving up.  Sisters laughing.  Brothers throwing crab-apples.   Squirt guns in baby fingers.  Ice cream cones dribbling down fingers, arms, shirts and pants.

STOP!

If you might be interested in joining in on the fun you can click right here to find out all of the details.  This is my second week doing it, and I will admit I am not nearly as sweaty as I was last week. ;)  TMI?

the slow business of becoming unflappable

Remember that word for the year?  The one that was almost embarrassing to admit.

You might be wondering how the move from flappable to unflappable is coming along.

It is coming along.

When you ask God for a word and a focus.  He gives it.  It might not be the word or focus you would've chosen.  When you ask Him to change you.  He does it.  Not all at once though.  The thing about being a believer in Jesus is that the Holy Spirit dwells in you.

[This might sound weird to those of you that don't know Jesus... and might make you skeptical because wouldn't all of us Christians be better at this Christian-thing if we had a HOLY Spirit living in us?  I get that.  The thing is our human nature still lives there too.  While Jesus gives us victory through the power of the Holy Spirit, we still need to ask for it.  And walk in it.]

So back to the flapping and the Holy Spirit.  Oh my.  The conviction over a shout-burst.  The instant recognition of my flappable ways has been profound.  And frequent.  I still find myself face-on-the-floor often over my mothering failures.  But I find grace too.  Reminders that face-on-the-floor is not a bad place to be.  He finds me right there and gives me courage to get back up and try again.  And again.

He has also reminded me to keep my eyes on my own paper.  You know how when you get pressed with something uncomfortable, its easier to look at others and say, "well, I am doing way better than...."?  You've done this, right?

God gave me a really wonderful visual reminder to look back on throughout this flappable-to-unflappable process.  In January, Wilson was on the honor roll and there was an assembly.  Brad wasn't able to attend so it was just Franklin + Lincoln + me.  I tend to break out in a sweat when going to a school gathering with the two of them.  Toddlers + sitting still for a long time; well, that's just not really a thing.  We got there on time and were able to get seats at the end of the row where the stroller could be parked easily and out of the way.  Victory!

There was another boy a little older than the twins running all over the gym.  He was more or less ignoring his momma.  Not too unusual really.  He turned around and his t-shirt shocked me, it read, "I may be small, but I run this sh*t."  I almost took a stealth photo of it to post on FB.  You know, so everyone could weigh in on how ridiculous this was.  I could see on the looks of other parents' faces that they were not impressed either.  Pretty soon our kids that were able to read were going to walk in and see this shirt.  Classy.  So I sat there in all my judgey-glory, internally condemning this mother and her lack of reason and inability to make appropriate choices.  I imagined what some of your responses would be to the FB photo post of this little dude that was running things.

And just like that.  It hit me in the face.

How many times a day do I make an appalling-parenting-choice?  How many things happen {maybe in the privacy of my own home} that would make a room full of other parents judge my lack of reason and my inability to make appropriate choices?  I think my cheeks flushed as I realized how my flappable-ness would make great FB fodder.  I knew God was telling me to "keep my eyes on my own paper."  Quit looking for others' faults so I could clearly see my own when the Spirit pointed them out.

Instead of posting I picture of that little guy, I posted this one::

But I haven't forgotten what I learned that day.  I think of that little boy's shirt all the time.  Of him running around and the way I judged his momma.  So not my place.  I have work to do in my own home.  Who am I to judge?



P.S. I started this draft awhile back and finally found the courage to finish it off.  God is good and I can see His work in our home, in my mothering.  But, oh, He has so much more work to do here.  Thank you for cheering me on along the way!

in between

So much of life happens in the in-between.  And there is such variety there too.

The vulnerable in-between moments of removing the swim cover and finding "cover" again in the pool.  Just moments, but so bare.

The in-between dragging days of a deployment and a redeployment.  The days that drag by and the guilt that hangs on the days when life really happens well.  The desperate wish to be together again throughout all those long in-between days.

Then there is the summer in-between days.  The best kind of in-between.  No worries, no hurries, just fun-filled days for the kiddos.  They learn to really live in the in-between, don't they.

The in-between jobs.  And in-between pant sizes.  In-between homes, straddling the past and the future in a hotel or someone else's home.

-stop-

So, wow, that is like the world's fastest five minutes ever.  Its my first time... well, actually I tried it once before but I forgot to turn the volume up on the desktop so I didn't hear the timer go off.  So this is my first real #fiveminutefriday.  Yikes!

Read more of the in between thoughts by checking out Lisa Jo's blog.  Click here!

outside

"Outside?"

"Outside?!"

"O U T S I D E !!!"

I hear this repeated daily.  x2.  The plea to go outside.  Franklin & Lincoln are always desperate to be outside.  Generally, I am happy to oblige.  Everyone is happier if we spend time outside.  Even if its pushing 90 with high humidity.

While home in Michigan, it was fun to see our little nephews clamoring to go outside too.  Breeze would fiddle with the door until he earned his freedom; and both Wesson & Brecken were thrilled to get outdoors too.  Branden even showed us a "trick" with Brecken... if he was fussing and Branden stepped towards the door to go outside, the fussing would let up... if he backed away from the door it started back up.  That little boy wanted O-U-T.

The light is brighter there.  The colors more vivid.  There is such a variety of textures to experience.  Sounds are layered upon one another from near and far.  All of the little guys knew there was much to be explored outside.

So we let them explore. 

We all start out as explorers, don't we? 

Like Lincoln and Franklin, we use to crave that outdoor time, didn't we?

Somewhere along the way most of us begin to prefer indoors to outdoors.  We like a comfortable climate.  We like to control our entertainment choices.  We like what the walls and doors keep out. We don't mind the view from the window, but its handy that we can block that off too; you know, for privacy and comfort.

Before you know it, we are all comfortable in our little houses.  Cradling our little devices, playing games or watching shows.  So far from the outside that we might even get sucked in to a program about the outside.

We stop exploring.  We settle for near and familiar and comfortable.

I don't want to settle.

I want to begin my days pleading with my Father for "outside!"  Out from the near and the familiar and the comfortable.  I want to explore this world at this time and all the beautiful people I share it with right now.  I want to be childlike in my desires for the brighter light and the vivid colors, for the varied textures and layered sounds.  

I want to be barefoot and walk through the grass, even if it means occasionally stepping on a rock (or worse).  I want to feel the breeze that moves the tree branches and marvel at its refreshment with my sons and neighbors.


This isn't a new song, but the album was new to us on our road trip, so we listened to it many times.  As I ponder this inside/outside issue, this song repeatedly pops into my head. 


The Outsiders by NEEDTOBREATHE.

seven

I've got a little bit of a love/hate thing going with these birthdays of yours, WJ.

Mostly because they're all... 

--b l i n k --

and then

BOOM!!

I mean, for real, with the whitewater rafting?  You couldn't even pretend to be a little bit scared so momma could've busted out some of my baby-Walker-soothing-techniques?  Daddy said you were "fearless."  And I think that word sums you up quite well, son.  I am so incredibly proud of you.  Six was such a super year for you.  You continue to light up the hallways at school and I have yet to meet someone that works there that doesn't adore you.

You do your own thing.  And you do it well.  You know what you like, you know what you dislike - but you are usually willing to give new things a try before deciding.  THAT is an awesome trait.

You are cute, you are smart, you have an incredible sense of humor, but most importantly you love well.  You always reassure me that you love me.  I don't think there is a day that goes by without you telling me so.  I treasure it each time...even if you don't really know that I do. You bravely prayed some prayers during this past year.  When I asked you to, you would pray "that momma wouldn't lose her temper,"  and sometimes you even prayed it when I didn't ask.  I love to see you stepping into your relationship with Jesus on your own - asking Him about things that matter to you because you know He hears each time.

Believe it or not.  You teach me.  So much.  I am looking forward to seeing what lessons I'll learn with you during the year of seven.

I hope you'll keep dancing in Kids' World worship even as more of your classmates decide they don't want to anymore.  I pray you'll rock 2nd grade just as hard as you did 1st grade.  I trust you'll become an even more awesome big brother this year (although, man, you totally owned that role this year!)  I expect that you will begin to grasp more and more just how deeply God loves you and begin glimpsing the goodness of the plans He has for you.  They are good and they are just for you.  No one can do what God has planned for you - except YOU!  Remember:

God created you exactly the way He intended to Walker J.  You are delight to Him and to all that know you (even Wilson although he may not admit that for a few years [or decades, maybe])

Happy Birthday Walker J!  Daddy and I are so proud of you!

a little part of something big

You know we sponsor a child through Compassion International, right?

I really think its some of the best money we spend monthly.  We got a letter from Junior this week.  Its the first one we've gotten from him since he has seen the twins (we wanted to wait until it was officially official and finally final before we tried to explain it all to him.)  We sent him a picture sometime after Christmas and told him the story of our newest family members.  In his letter he said, "I love the twins.  They look alike!"  I'm just giddy over it.  We all get a kick out of his notes to us.  We wrote him back this week.  Below is a picture of what Wilson and Walker wrote to him.  Walker wrote a verse on the cut out of his hand, and Wilson chose a proverb to write and illustrate.  They did this on their own with just a nudge of encouragement.  ;)

One of my favorite things about sponsoring through Compassion is their transparency.  They recently participated in an independent study on child sponsorship programs and the results are incredible.  You can read more about it here.... an especially good read if you are skeptical about the benefit of sponsorship programs.

They also do Compassion Blogger trips which allow bloggers to come visit development centers and share their experiences.  There is a blogger trip ongoing in Nicaragua right now.  I cannot read a post about someone meeting their sponsored child and not cry.  Every. Single. Time.  I do sincerely hope that we will one day meet Junior.  God knows this.

You can read the bloggers posts here. Compassion Bloggers featured posts.

And I strongly, strongly, strongly encourage you to read this one today. "I've seen Best Again."  I think it really captures the beauty of sponsorship and the gift it gives to families across the world.

 You wanna be a little part of something big?  Click below to find out more!

my arm is not that long

More lessons from the road trip.

We made a HUGE mistake by packing a little bin of toys for the youngest two - in their line of sight for the car trip.  Lincoln and Franklin would take turns requesting a toy from the bin.  I would grab what they asked for and hand it to them.  Then the toy would inevitably drop (or be thrown?) and wailing would ensue, followed by dramatic, frantic, repetitive requests for the dropped item.  I would then have to twist my body around into all sorts of fantastic contortions to try and find the dropped item.  Patting the floor with my hand in places where my eyes couldn't reach.  This was all kinds of fun.  There were a few times that I couldn't reach the item no matter how much stretching & twisting I did.  I would have to say, "I'm sorry but Mommy can't reach it."  Cue more emphatic wailing.  Awesome, I tell you.  This little scenario played out at least 67 times the first two days on the road.  By day three, we were smart enough to pack that bin in the back of the van.  Genuis!

On the way home there was a similar bit of this scenario cropping up.  We streamlined the number of Lincoln & Franklin items up front, but we had to keep the monsters and blankets - they are critical for sleeping.

See? Absolutely critical.

Of course, when its not sleepy-time its thrash-those-blankets-around-time.  I finally just started replying to the wailing with "My arm is not that long."  No more twisting or contorting - just fact.  My arm is not that long. Who can argue with that?

After issuing this statement a few times, I settled in to the front seat feeling rather proud of my declaration of arm length.  Watching the fields whirl past, listening to my favorite music, just grateful to be rolling along with my guys - a thought took shape.  I remembered that time in the Bible when God made a declaration about the length of His arm.

"Surely the arm of the Lord is not too short to save, nor his ear too dull to hear." -Isaiah 59:1

I love this declarative statement of fact.  Who can argue with that?  

Unlike my arm that couldn't reach the toys that had been tossed around, nothing is out of God's reach.  Furthermore, He never 'accidentally' puts things in our view and then gets frustrated because we keep asking for them/throwing them/dropping them etc.  He makes no mistakes.  He doesn't dangle things in front of us only to make us squirm.  He would love if we would boldly ask for His help.  Often.  Not unlike Lincoln and Franklin - repeatedly and with expectation.  His arm is not too short.  Ever.

things we've learned

It's day two of our road trip. I'm sitting on the floor of the laundry room of our hotel. There's a random chunk of leather belt and a few discarded dryer sheets kicking it with me. Brad's in the room convincing four boys that now is a great time to sleep. I'm not sure who has the better deal at the moment. Thought I'd use some of the dryer-cycle-time to tell you some of the things we've learned thus far. 

1- if Lincoln sucks air in and out of an empty juice box rapidly for a minute (or two?), he's going to get an upset stomach.

2- if you get back on the road after juice box incident (see #1), and Lincoln repeatedly says, "Ima fro up", he means it.

3- you can never pack too many changes of clothes for toddlers 

4- Franklin has a mild case of claustrophobia, he did not want to walk under any rock formations (or next to tall ones) at Rock City

5- the upside of misty rain while visiting Lookout mountain is that you really understand the phrase "the battle above the clouds" 

6- Walker has a daily photo limit, once reached he will opt out of all family photos; if he is forced in, you'll know it

7- Ruby Falls is a one hour (+) walking tour underground; Lincoln and Franklin were polar opposites.  I carried Franklin (see #4), Lincoln however would have preferred free reign of the cave and wanted nothing to do with holding hands or waiting for people ahead of us. He let his preference for freedom be known through much wailing and gnashing of teeth. 

8- I can't get over the preciousness of the boys sharing beds; Wilson + Lincoln and Walker + Franklin. Nobody fell out of bed last night and I'm hopeful for an equally successful night tonight. Wilson did get crowded out and ended up switching sides with Lincoln last night :)

9- We had some diaper leakage today - see #3

10- I've already laughed so hard that I nearly cried more times than I can remember. I think it bodes well for the rest of the trip. 

Lincoln's face in this picture pretty much captures his entire Ruby Falls experience. 

the hair dryer

This motherhood thing is a challenge.  Just when you think you are getting a part figured out, your kids grow and there are new parts.  The learning curve tends to fall heavily on the firstborn.  God bless him.

He's not a fan of me taking his picture, and really dislikes it when I post pictures... although, if I tell him "your grandparents" will want to see this, he usually relents.  But with that look on his face.  I see that look more and more.  I recognize it.  I think I could've won medals for giving that look so frequently and effortlessly.

Last night, I watched Frankie Heck burst into tears at Axel's graduation and I could've jumped right in the screen with her.

It all happens so fast.

I know Wil isn't graduating yet (thank you Jesus!), but he is just growing so much.  And so often this mother heart wonders if I haven't just messed it all up for him.  There's this crazy part that thinks somehow my mistakes will surpass God's grace, you know?

But God is good.  And in His goodness, He gives these little gifts.

The one I am savoring right now involves my hair dryer.  And the boy that wants to grow his hair out.

We've decided its OK for him to grow his hair out.  We would love if he actually cared what it looks like when he leaves the house.  Maybe that will happen one day?  We've threatened to cut it if he doesn't start combing it BEFORE we tell him too.  The loophole here is that he gets it wet, and combs 25% of it.  Its still a mess but obvious that he made an effort... be it a really small effort.  The hair.  [I can't help but wonder if these hair-hassles might be some sort of preparation for a girl to join our ranks.]  Its an ongoing thing.  And fairly annoying.

Maybe it was the night before the baby dedication?  I don't remember for sure.  I decided to blow dry Wil's hair before bed.  All the way.  The next morning, it still looked good.

So for the last week or so, Wil and I have a few moments for me to run my fingers through his hair and wave a hair dryer at his head.  We made a little hand gesture for him to use so I can give him a cool shot if it gets too hot.  We don't talk, I turn him around this way and that.

I marvel at how big he is.  I wonder at how this once tiny head that I cradled in my hands is so full of this hair.
And ideas.
And dreams.

God has given me these moments with him and my hair dryer.  They are treasure.

Oh the things we mothers carry close in our hearts. 

p.s. yes, I did get carried away with picmonkey when editing the photo. ;)  I imagine Wilson will quickly greet this post with that look.  God bless him.

seven bones

Which is slightly more humorous than seven dollars.  Right?

Which is how much we made at our "garage sale" this weekend. 

And the thing is, I am not really disappointed.  I don't feel like we wasted time.  We did waste a bit of poster board that didn't survive the rain, but other than that we're good.

You may or may not know that we are hoping to buy shoes for our foster care office with the money from our sale.  We are almost completely stocked {at the time of typing; this changes often due to kiddos coming in to care any day of the week}, in regard to clothing. 

When I was in the office last week, the caseworker told me that they had TWO sets of SEVEN kiddos come in to care the Friday prior.  14 kids on the same day.  One child had no shoes whatsoever.  Thankfully, they found a pair of flip-flops that worked.  I knew then that we would use our "garage sale" money for shoes. {There are currently 16 pairs of shoes total - for ALL ages/genders - oh, and 6 pair are women's size 9 or larger.}

We made seven bones.  You can't buy a whole lotta shoes for that... not even kids shoes.

But here's the thing.  Its in God's hands, oh and by the way, He has a ridiculous track record with us + garage sales.

Our first sale in Oklahoma we paid to advertise in the "wrong paper."  I had more baby boy clothes to sell than Babies R Us.  I was 7 months pregnant and desperate, because we had no space for-all-the-bins-of-clothes.  Pretty sure I saved every. single. piece. of clothing Wilson ever wore.  Sure, I was pregnant with baby boy #2 and due in the same season even - but nearly three years of clothing just don't fit as well in a rental house as they do in your parents' basement.  We paid for our ad so after subtracting that we made $4 at that sale.  We had a woman interested in buying our bedding set for $10 so I had set it aside for her... she never came back.  There was some marital tension over that decision.  I looked into selling it on eBay - people did that back then.  Brad took pictures and listed it.  Our five year old bedding set from Target sold for over $180. 

One of our sales here, we had hoped to make enough money to buy Wilson a cub scout uniform.  {Nobody tells you those babies are outrageously expensive when you sign your boy up!}  We didn't sell much at the sale.  We might have had enough for a shirt.  We looked on eBay for used Cub Scout uniforms.  We had a stack of old DVD's leftover from the sale.  Unbelievable that nobody bought them for the hot price of 3/$1.  We figured we could try to sell them on eBay.  Brad sorted them into sets - high-demand sets really - Dora, Bob the Builder, Backyardigans, ScoobyDoo.  The good stuff, people.  I can't remember the dollar amount exactly but we more than quadrupled what we would've made had we sold them at our sale and there was enough scratch for every piece of that uniform.  And money left over for our pockets.

You can't never always sometimes tell.

That's a phrase I am borrowing from The Circle Maker.  {If you haven't read it yet, what are you waiting for?}  Basically, you can't predict what God is going to do.  Ever.

We are going to try and sell our wares again on Saturday this week.  I don't know if we'll make a ton of money or if we'll be lucky to make seven dollars again.  The thing is, I am trusting God with it; and I am guessing there's going to be a surprise in it.  I'll keep you posted.

You might not be having a garage sale.  Or maybe you just did and you sold hundreds of dollars worth of your junk.  No matter.  The point is, at some point in your life God has surprised you, I bet.  Its fun to go back and remember how He did.  Especially if you are waiting on something now. 

Take a moment and think of a "you can't never always sometimes tell" memory in your life.  Praying that moment is a special blessing to you today.