Lambs In His Arms

Pink Pants, Purple Pencils, and Who I Am in Christ

2012-01-25T08:57:00.000-05:00

I've been having a very minor identity crisis lately. Blame it on my abrupt attack on nearly every area of life, but my generally introspective, perfectionistic self is in hyper self-examination mode right now. My hair, my clothes, my priorities, my diet, my time management, my spiritual life, my habits, my dresser drawers...you name it, and I'm thinking about how it is, how to make it better, and how it makes me who I am.

Strangely, we tend to define ourselves by things that can change: our looks, our hobbies, our preferences. I find it interesting to realize how mine have evolved through the years. Ten years ago, I had just rebuilt my wardrobe of flare leg jeans after a few years of wearing gigantic (and by most standards, ridiculous looking) wide-leg jeans that dragged on the ground. In the past few years, I have been wearing skirts pretty much all the time. In recent months, I discovered yoga pants, and now I don't want to wear anything else. (My mom will tell you that I have always been this loyal to my own fashion and hairstyle trends...just ask about the turtlenecks of 5th and 6th grade!)

5th grade, year of turtlenecks and big hair bows

I grew up being the girl who liked blue while my little sister had everything pink. In my teen years, I realized that I liked green just as much, and blue and green together were the best. This Crayola-combination is still one of my favorites, but recently, I've been a little obsessed with pink. Having a baby girl or two certainly helped, as did the gift from my husband of a distinctly girly pink-and-black gun. Then I requested a pink and black tool set, in hopes that Don would not steal (and consequently lose) my tools. (I was totally wrong about that, by the way - he always uses my tools now, because they come in such a handy and convenient tool case. He does put them back though!) Since then, I have acquired a bright pink camera, blow dryer, bow and arrow, tote bag, and bathrobe for my expanding collection of fun and feminine items. Oh, and I have two pairs of pink yoga pants!

I could go on and on about how my quirks have changed to fit my husband's preferences and my own evolving life. Ten years ago I wouldn't touch red meat; now our favorite place to go is the Longhorn Steakhouse for the Flo's Filet. I ate a bowl of Breyer's every night until last summer, when I got hooked on Shakeology and haven't bought ice cream since. I thought guns were scary; now my husband suggests a date to the gun show and I respond with enthusiasm. I thought exercise was taking the stairs instead of the elevator; now I do hour-long workouts and lift heavy weights. I loved snuggling other people's babies. Now I still love babies, but I'm usually too busy holding my own to pick up any others.

This isn't my gun...not yet, anyway. ;)
I was scoping out pink weapons at the gun show,
and this AR was pretty cute!

It is tempting to find my unique self-worth as a girl who loves pink (or green, or blue), and skirts (or jeans, or turtlenecks), and babies (yours, mine, or the unknown orphans in a foreign country). But I thank God that though the world sees only these external things, they are not what really count. Who am I to the Lord Jesus? He doesn't put me in categories like "homeschool mama," "wife who works out," or "pink girl." My value is not in my possessions or preferences or even my performance. It's in Him.

Studying Ephesians has been really helpful with understanding this concept. I have a color-coded system (yes, another quirk) for how I underline verses in my (pink) Bible, and purple is the color for verses that answer the question, "Who am I in Christ?" Ephesians 1 is chock full of purple verses. I recommend that you read this whole passage, because if you are a believer, it applies to you too:

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. And he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times will have reached their fulfillment—to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ.

In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will, in order that we, who were the first to hope in Christ, might be for the praise of his glory. And you also were included in Christ when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation. Having believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession — to the praise of his glory.

In Christ, I am chosen - predestined to be one of His own since before the foundation of the world. In Christ, I am forgiven - every ugly thought and word and deed is wiped clean. I was a slave to sin, but I am redeemed by His blood. I am not alone; I am adopted into His forever family. And in Christ, I have confidence, because I am sealed with the Holy Spirit.

As fun as they may be, my pink pants do not make me special. I am special to God because He chose me to be His own. My true identity lies not in the colors of my wardrobe, but in the purple-lined verses that remind me: I can only find my true worth, satisfaction, and peace in the perfect love and saving work of Christ Jesus.

My favorite pink things

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Bass Pro Shops and More to Come

2012-01-22T23:45:00.000-05:00

...I will build you with stones of turquoise,
your foundations with sapphires.
I will make your battlements of rubies,
your gates of sparkling jewels,
and all your walls of precious stones.
All your sons will be taught by the LORD,
and great will be your children’s peace.
In righteousness you will be established:
Tyranny will be far from you;
you will have nothing to fear.
Terror will be far removed;
it will not come near you.
Isaiah 54:11-14

It was a good weekend. A long ride on snowy roads with new tires and functional brakes. A trip to a new store that dazzled us with interesting items and decor. Children sleeping soundly in their beds. A great meal that I didn't have to cook or clean up, or (thanks to a gift card) even pay for.

Intermixed in the adventures were many potential moments for conflict and distress. Frigid weather. Potty trips with fussy babies in tow. Being separated in the store with no working cell phone. Hungry children who still hadn't eaten dinner at bedtime. A waitress giving Donny's milk to Hayden - and the ensuing dash to find Benadryl at the closest convenience store. Sawing open the Benedryl liquid capsule with a Swiss Army knife. Huddling around a small table at Dunkin Donuts for a dinner of bagels instead of the family dining experience we had planned. Attempting to get to church on time. Rescheduling the dining experience only to have it interrupted by a crying baby. Baby crying all afternoon.

But overall, I am counting this a great weekend. As we cruised along the quiet, snow-covered highway, Don and I actually got to talk without being interrupted, distracted, or interrupted again. We soaked up the delights of Bass Pro Shops in Foxboro, MA as gleefully as our children did. We came home with presents and pictures and memories. And I fell in love even more with the husband and father who handled the medical emergencies and interrupted meals and continual demands of four little people with grace, calmness, and self-control.

What really amazes me is that every good thing on this earth - cute camo shirts, singing children, smiling babies, tasty bowls of guacamole, digital cameras, new strollers, helpful husbands, great conversations, answered prayers - they are just a shadow of what is to come. God has so much in store for us. Heaven is going to be amazing in a way that puts our modern over-use of the word to shame.

When we walked into Bass Pro Shops for the first time, it was overwhelming just to look around - in every direction there was something to see. Bears and foxes on the walls. A moose in front of us. Fish and turtles in the pond. Endless racks of camo gear. Giant boats and an enormous whale (which the boys insisted was probably made of cement) suspended from the ceiling. Knotty pine and spotlights everywhere.

Under the whale

Will we win this? Not likely!

Donny took this one:

But heaven is going to be made not of pine and fur, but of gold and jewels! No one will cry, no one will go hungry, no one will be cold, and no one will be allergic to milk. Like children in a candy store (oh yes, they had lots of candy at Bass Pro Shops too!), we will be awestruck and delighted in a way that our feeble human minds cannot comprehend. I can't wait.

I am so thankful for these little snippets of family fun that we can piece together into a collection of sweet memories. I am thankful for healthy children and a wonderful husband to raise them along with me. I am thankful for peaceful sleep whenever and wherever we find it. But most of all, I am thankful for the hope that there is so much more than this. Looking past the skyline, I can't see clearly, but I know there is something big and beautiful and infinitely beyond description or definition. We will have nothing to fear; there will just be peace. And it will be great.

(View out the window)

Lavished with Grace

2012-01-18T00:26:00.000-05:00

It is a busy season here, with so many new routines and activities. But as I say to the strangers in the grocery store who exclaim, "You're busy!" when they see my cart-full of children, "Yes, but it's a good busy." And I am so thankful that one of my new busy things is the Good Morning Girls group. Besides the wonderful (albeit virtual) fellowship with some dear sisters in Christ, I am finding precious blessings in making time daily to dig deeper into God's Word, pulling out each jewel of Scripture to examine it and delight in its beauty.

The Ephesians study is perfect for me, because I actually started memorizing Ephesians a few years ago. I learned through somewhere in Chapter 2 before, sadly, I neglected my resolution. This year, I am hoping to resume memorizing one of my most-underlined books as I study a few verses each day and reflect on what God wants to say to me. Having His Word in my heart always yields blessings!

Today we looked at Ephesians 1:7-10:
In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace, which he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. And he made known to us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times will have reached their fulfillment -- to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ.

In these verses, I am struck by the luxury: the riches of God’s grace that He lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. According to BlueLetterBible.org, the Greek word translated “lavished” is perisseuō, which can mean “to exceed a fixed number of measure, to be left over and above a certain number or measure” or “to make to abound.” It is used in Matthew 14 and 15 to refer to the basketfuls of bread that were left over after Jesus fed the crowds. A sub-definition of the second meaning is “to furnish one richly so that he has abundance.”

When I think of words like this, I tend to think of material possessions, or even the blessings of health, family, and fellowship. But God says that what He lavished on us was grace - the forgiveness of sins that we have through the blood of Jesus. He didn't just give us what we need, carefully measuring a cup of grace for each sin. No, He poured it out, burying even the vilest of sinners in a shower of incredible forgiveness. What incredible luxury!

The word is used several more times throughout the New Testament. For example:
- Then he said to them, "Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; a man's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions." (Luke 12:15)
- How much more did God's grace and the gift that came by the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, overflow to the many! (Rom. 5:15)
- the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause thanksgiving to overflow to the glory of God (2 Cor. 4:15)
- their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity (2 Cor. 8:2)
- And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work. (2 Cor. 9:8)

Abounding, overflowing, lavish grace: that is what the Lord God extended to me. Like silks and jewels overflowing a queen's treasury, I am blessed with so many riches that I simply cannot count - or contain - them. God's grace fills me, leaving an abundance left over to share with others. His forgiveness, His love, His joy, must trickle out from me as I realize how blessedly rich I am in Christ.

Practically, how can I extend this grace to my children? How can I discipline when it is warranted without ceasing to pour out grace? How can I show them the great and amazing forgiveness of the Lord? How can I overcome headaches, tension, exhaustion, and sibling battles to overflow with goodness? Second Corinthians 9:8 promises that I will abound in every good work. Raising my children, loving my husband, keeping my home, studying God's Word - these are the good works He has given me in this season, and His overflowing grace WILL supply all that I need. I am so thankful for this refreshing reminder that I am a blessed recipient of the amazing, abundant, luxurious grace of God!

And as one who has been forgiven with unmeasured grace, my role is to let it overflow, spilling and spreading God's beautiful grace all around me. May we all be overflowing vessels as we realize that our redemption through Christ's blood is the ultimate gift from a lavishly generous Father.

All Things New

2012-01-13T22:27:00.001-05:00

“Forget the former things;
do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!"
Isaiah 43:18-19a

Happy New Year! I hope to be able to blog more in 2012, but so many new things are keeping me busy that I rarely have a spare moment at the computer. There's the new baby, of course, who has been keeping hands occupied for three sweet months now. And Don starting a new job meant more transitions for our family. Since he can set his own hours, he has been leaving home extra early in order to beat the rush hour traffic. The trade-off for his pre-dawn disappearance is that we get to spend time with him in the afternoon. Of course, now that he is working outside the home and I have errands and children's activities to get to, we also needed a second vehicle.

For a few weeks, we pondered the many options: an expensive new commuter car, a cheap old car that may break down, a bigger family vehicle so that Don could take the van (which we own), buying him a truck that could also be used for trash-hauling and hunting trips, leasing something, and so on. Meanwhile, our dear friends were also in the process of preparing for a new job. Jared's new position as a youth pastor at a church in Kansas meant that he and Laura would be moving halfway across the country, and they didn't want to drive both of their vehicles out there, so they planned to sell their Chrystler Sebring convertible. Though we didn't know much about the car, it seemed like a clear sign to us that we should buy from our friends who needed to sell - the transaction would benefit both of our families as the husbands started their new jobs. As it turned out, Jared and Laura needed to use the car up until a certain Friday, and the very first day that Don needed to drive to work was the following Monday - AND we were already going to Jared and Laura's house for their going-away party that very weekend! As if that wasn't enough, we expressed interest in buying the car before we knew how much it was worth. Meanwhile, Jared had prayerfully set the price tag at $2000. Ever since Don and I paid off our van, we have been setting a certain amount of money aside each month in an ING account called "New Car Savings." In December, we had over $1900 in the account, and on January 1st, the total would have topped $2000! I love when God works things out right to the last penny to answer our prayers. And even though it's not a brand new pickup truck or gas-saving hybrid supercar, Don is actually enjoying his new vehicle. My cold-hating husband was even caught driving home from work with the top down on a 50 degree December day!

There have been changes at home, too. Now that we no longer need to use one bedroom as an office, our growing family can fill our three bedrooms instead of cramming into two. While in the process of changing the office to a girls' room, we ripped out the nasty old carpet and had new carpet installed. The night before it arrived, when excess furniture and miscellaneous stuff was cluttering every room in order to leave the office completely empty, my husband (after chatting with his mother) suggested an even better idea: the newly carpeted room could be our room. The girls could have the boys' room. And the boys, and all of their toys, could have the oversize room we've been using as a master bedroom/nursery. We just hit the three year mark in this house (twice as long as we've lived anywhere else!), so it was fun (though temporarily chaotic) to change things up a bit. We are all very happy with the new set up, so when I get a chance, I'll share some pictures. I also got, after a long wait for the rescheduled delivery and a few frustrating phone calls, a brand new front loading washer. It may seem silly, but after having a very basic washing machine for five years, I am so excited about all the different cycles! It is especially nice for washing diapers. Instead of running up and down the basement stairs three times to prewash, wash, and rinse, I can just set a long sanitize cycle and forget about it until everything is clean. What a blessing!

The household rearranging was completed just in time to start our new school year this week. Since we started First Grade last January and finished in November after schooling straight through the summer, it is time to move on to second grade. I am excited about using the My Father's World Adventures curriculum since we have had such good experiences with their Kindergarten and First Grade programs. This year we will be learning about the 50 states, American history, and the names of Jesus related to our science studies. We're looking forward to a great year! In addition to homeschool, visits with grandparents, and continuing to get together with friends for Lego building time, we will also be making weekly trips to the gym. Hayden had his first gymnastics class last week and loves it already! His gymnast Daddy is thrilled, of course, and Lydia can't wait until she is big enough to join a class too!

Don and I are keeping up our own physical fitness with a brand new workout program called P90X2. Beachbody's P90X extreme fitness program is well known for yielding great results, so we hope that this sequel will do the same. Don has done P90X a few times, and I completed it myself at the end of 2010 (one of the reasons I wasn't blogging then - it's very time consuming!). It is difficult to squeeze in hour-long workouts with a new baby and three loud children who alternate between wanting to join the workout and sabotaging it with their demands ("Can I please have one raisin?"), but I love the results of a challenging exercise program. Don also wanted to follow the diet program, so I have been carefully meal planning and calorie counting for him. (Since I'm nursing and don't need to lose weight, I am not worried about the number of calories I eat, but I am trying to avoid the pile of Christmas candy in the cupboard!) And between buying new workout programs and Don and I both drinking Beachbody's Shakeology® daily, I concluded that it was worth signing up to be an Independent Team Beachbody Coach, both to get a discount ourselves, and to be able to share these products with others. We were already telling people how much we love certain products, and now we can send them to my Beachbody site to learn more about the workout programs, nutritional supplements, and online tools that Beachbody offers.

Finally, I had been thinking and praying about finding a group of other women with whom I could meet for prayer, encouragement, and accountability, when the Lord graciously introduced me to Good Morning Girls. Since Good Morning Girls is a form of online accountability for having daily quiet time, it is perfect for moms like me who may not be able to get to Bible studies and prayer groups outside of the home. A group of my local young mom friends and I have committed to hold each other accountable to grow daily with God, and we'll be emailing each other every weekday to encourage one another and share what we are learning. I am looking forward to getting to know these wonderful ladies better, and to see how God will use our group for His glory! I will also be participating in the free Ephesians Bible Study offered by Good Morning Girls. If you don't already have a daily time set aside with God, I encourage you carve out a few minutes of your day, join me in this study, and invite others to hold you accountable. I know God will bless us for being faithful to Him!

And lest you start to suspect that I am some kind of wondermom, able to embark on a myriad of new adventures without batting an eye, you should know that there is a basket of clean laundry that has been sitting in my bedroom for so long that the boys have been shopping for clean clothes in there every morning. There are piles of clutter resulting from the bedroom switcheroo (and ensuring closet switcheroo) that are driving me crazy, and I haven't baked bread (which I used to do weekly) for a year. I can't do it all, but I can do that which God has given me for this season with His help and His grace, and I am so thankful for the many new blessings and opportunities He has already given me this year. By His strength, I am excited to dive into 2012!

Wordless Wednesday: The Cheeks at 10 Weeks

2011-12-28T16:13:00.000-05:00

(Can't tell who's who? Here's a hint!)

Your cheeks are beautiful...
~ Song of Songs 1:10a

Christmas Card 2011

2011-12-22T21:28:00.000-05:00

(Click image to enlarge)

Dear friends and family,

It is hard to believe that another year has gone by already. As most of you know, we spent half of this year trying to sell our house and move to Arizona, but God had other plans for us. Don and Manda spent a long weekend there in July, checking out the incredibly cheap houses and loving the dry, sunny Phoenix weather. We had several showings of our house here, but in the current market, we were unable to sell for more than we owe. Then, two months after taking our house off the market, Don got an unexpected job interview at a local company. Several weeks later, the job was his. We do still hope to move to a newer home with more than one bathroom, but for now at least, it looks like we will be staying in New England.

While Don certainly had many benefits while working from home (including being a one-car family and working in his jammies), we are excited about his potential for professional growth as he moves into software development at the new company. And while it will be an adjustment to say goodbye to Daddy in the mornings after having him around all the time, it also means the children don't have to whisper and tiptoe whenever Daddy is on the phone. In addition, Don has recently started working part time at yet another local gym. His love for gymnastics keeps bringing him back to the sport, and we are hoping to sign the children up for gymnastics classes soon, too.

Besides the excitement of house shopping and a family vacation to Disney World and Clearwater Beach, FL in April, we also found out that we were expecting a new baby this year! On October 10, we welcomed sweet Abigail Joy to our family. She was born by repeat Cesarean section weighing 5 pounds and 9 ounces. Her siblings adore their baby sister and ask for a turn holding her throughout the day. At two months old now, she is smiling and cooing more, and her skinny newborn body is filling out with delightful baby plumpness. She is a great nurser and, for a newborn, a good sleeper. We are so thankful to have another beautiful, healthy baby!

Lydia is now two and a half years old. She wants to do whatever her brothers are doing, whether it's playing outside or doing schoolwork at the kitchen table. She often asks Mumma, "What can I do to help you?" and when she sees you for the first time, she'll tell you, "I have a sister Abby!" She is quite possessive of her "Baby Abby" and nearly smothers little Abigail with kisses, hugs, and (sometimes very loud) songs.

Hayden is five years old and has already finished first grade! When we started first grade homeschool in January with Donny, we decided to include Hayden as well, and he has kept up amazingly well given his young age. He has beautiful handwriting and often surprises us with his understanding of math concepts. He loves anything that Daddy does: guns, weapons, working out, video games, etc. He is often quiet in new situations, but if you give him a few minutes, he'll be happy to flex his muscles for you!

Donny just turned seven and continues to be our talkative, imaginative scientist. He is interested in everything science-related (animals, outer space, rocks) but also loves geography, history, and crafts. Because of his ongoing love of building Lego creations, we have been participating in a Junior Lego League this fall, where he works with a team of other young boys to solve a challenge using Lego pieces. After spending the summer being terrified of bugs, he has overcome his aversion to the outdoors and now loves playing outside in our yard. In their spare time, the boys have both enjoyed playing Angry Birds (a video game they play on Don's phone) and mastering the card game Uno.

Don has taken up bowhunting this fall, but so far, all the deer seem to be in people's backyards instead of the woods. Manda got a bow and arrows of her own (pink, of course) since she wasn't able to practice shooting her (also pink) handgun, due to being pregnant for ¾ of the year. We continue to host a College and Career Bible study for young adults, and Don has also been teaching the teen Sunday School class at church. Manda still loves being a full-time mom, homeschooling the boys, and spending these precious days with her little girls. We are both thankful for the ways God has been at work in our lives this year, and look forward to seeing what He has in store for us next!

We pray that you, too, will see the Lord's hand at work as we celebrate the Savior's birth this Christmas season. May He bless your family with a Merry Christmas and a joyful New Year!

Love,

Don, Manda, Donny, Hayden, Lydia, and Abby ~ 2011

And Most of All, For Him

2011-12-01T23:42:00.001-05:00

Despite the festive lights glowing around our living room, today was a rather ugly day. The toddler was whiny and drippy-nosed, the baby fussed and hardly napped, the boys bickered, the mom got frustrated, and everyone cried. Screams of anger and pain punctuated the day when one boy hit his brother with a stick, and then when said boy received retribution from a ricocheting rock launched by said brother. We read devotionals, discussed verses, and added an ornament to our Jesse tree as we remembered the faith of Abraham, but my feeble attempts to bring focus seemed in vain. Even with Bible open on our laps, the children were kicking, sitting on each other, pulling my hair, and daydreaming.

As I wearily tucked them into bed, I was tempted toward discouragement, but remembered: this is a mission field. And walking into a room of rowdy, disobedient children to give the gospel - with gentleness and love - was my mission. It is easy, sometimes, to speak God's truth, but so much harder to demonstrate. This morning, we read, Let us love not with words or speech, but with actions and in truth (1 John 3:18). And then we all failed, at nearly every opportunity, to show love to each other. Hearts were hard and tears were many. If nothing else, ugly days reveal my shortcomings to remind me how much I need a Savior, and that nothing matters more in parenting than showing my little ones the Savior's love.

We have been busy lately, as most families are this time of year: celebrating the boys' birthdays, enjoying Thanksgiving feasts with aunts and uncles, baking gingerbread men with Grandma, and decorating for Christmas. In the coming weeks, our schedule will continue to be full of fun and festive activities as we skip through the merry month of December. Yet in the midst of tracing paper hand turkeys and leftover pumpkin pie, the Lord impressed this on my heart:

I am sinful. My husband and children are too. Not just in some vague, "I'm a sinner" way, but in dark, ugly specifics that we seldom admit and may not even realize. Pride, selfishness, the lust of the eyes and of the flesh - they lie dormant in our hearts, periodically manifesting in both subtle and not-so-subtle ways. Yet God, knowing every wicked thought of our wayward hearts, still sent His Son to die for us. I am so blessed with my family, my home, the opportunity to teach my children, the abundance of food and clothing and other material comforts - but this all pales in comparison to God's grace in forgiving my sin. Of all I have to be thankful for, nothing can compare to the love God poured out on me by sending Jesus.

Dear friends, if you have never heard this truth, or if you have heard it a thousand times, but the good news is drowned out by cheering football fans and red-nosed reindeer tunes, let me tell you this:

Christmas is for all of us, because we all need a Savior. Without Him, we are trapped in the wretched darkness of our own sin. It is only through His light that we can truly live. His blessings are abundant, and there are so many gifts for which to thank Him each day, but in the end, earthly treasures rust, and the world's festive pleasures pass away. Jesus himself is all that really matters, and our only hope for salvation.

For those who know Him, let the holidays remind us to share the light of the One who saved us. We can twinkle with joy through ugly days and dark hours like tiny bulbs on the strand that lights up the tree, emanating light to friends, to strangers, and to the little ones who dance around us in the living room. And as we delight in every meal and gift and yuletide merriment, let us give thanks, most of all, for the One called Jesus, who saves us from our sins.

A Little Thankful Thursday

2011-11-10T22:41:00.000-05:00

It's November, the time of year when even the secular world pauses to count their blessings and pin "I'm thankful for" feathers on a paper turkey. I have heard many wonderful ideas of ways to share our thankfulness, from a Thanksgiving Tree to dropping slips of paper in a box (to be read aloud at Thanksgiving dinner) to posting one thankful item per day on Facebook. In my college years, my sisters and I created a thankful poster each November, and all of the family members jotted down blessings - from salvation to sugar cookies - to add to the poster. Then when Donny and Hayden were in kindergarten, which finished last November, they created a page for their Blessings Books every Thursday. They would draw a picture of something they were thankful for, I would help them spell the word, and the sheet of paper was tucked inside a sheet protector in a 3-ring binder.

While the boys were hard at work on these precious keepsakes, I would pick up my own notebook and jot a few bullet notes of things I was thankful for that week. Sadly, since we finished kindergarten, both the children and I have often neglected to thank God for both the small and large gifts we receive each day. But tonight, in a rare moment of quiet, I picked up my long-forgotten notebook and quickly filled a page with a few of the ways God has blessed me recently. Here is my list. When you finish reading, grab a piece of paper or open a new text document and start your own!

Tonight I am thankful for...

a warm, cozy home
chicken soup on a rainy day
sweet sleepy newborn noises
being blessed with Abigail Joy on 10/10
an easier C-section recovery than last time
surviving the first trip to the grocery store with all four children
the lady in line behind me saying, "Can I just tell you, you are the most calm mother! And your children are so well-behaved!"
a small opportunity to witness when the cashier agreed with her and asked, "What do you do different?"
knowing that anything good in me or our family is only by His grace
the fun anticipation surrounding birthdays, Thanksgiving, and Christmas
having the resources to bless children around the world by participating in Operation Christmas Child
my husband's new job that will allow him to grow professionally and (hopefully) ease his stress
God's continual financial provision as our family grows
a few moments of quiet while everyone else sleeps to sense the Lord's presence and bask in His love
knowing that I serve a very big God!

So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness. – Colossians 2:6-7

Wacky Weather

2011-10-31T23:31:00.000-04:00

Living in the northeast, we certainly see a variety of weather. The saying, "If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes," is only a slight exaggeration. Traditionally, winter is cold and snowy, spring is warmer and rainy, summer is hot and sunny, and fall is crisp and cool. Around here, however, exceptions to this rule abound, and often the weather changes so drastically from one day to the next that one never really knows how to dress without first stepping outside. I remember how it rained almost every day of the June when Lydia was born - not exactly your typical hot and sunny summer weather. Snow usually starts in December, but there was a winter when it didn't snow until mid- January, and then a couple years ago, we had some unusual snow flurries in October. But as far as I can remember, this month wins the prize for strangest and most extreme weather conditions.

It started the weekend before Abby was born. I was preparing for my upcoming C-section when my mom called and asked me to pack the kids' bathing suits. Since she lives on a lake, this would be a normal request in summer, but it was already too chilly for swimming on Labor Day. Yet that Sunday, after a hot Saturday, the temperature reached a near-record 85 degrees. The thermometer stayed in 80's on Abigail's birthday, but by the time we returned home later that week, things had cooled off - and it was raining. Usually October is my favorite month for weather in New England: blue skies, crisp cool air, sunshine, and beautiful colored leaves. This year, Indian summer turned to spring as we had two weeks of clouds, wind, and rain. Instead of crunchy leaves to step on, the ground has been soggy. I'm not sure where my favorite season went, but we seem to have skipped it altogether, because this weekend, it was winter.

On Thursday night, just as we were putting the boys and Lydia to bed, I looked out the window and exclaimed, "Is that snow?!" Sure enough, huge chunky flakes of white were falling from the October sky. We called the children to peer out into the dark at the first snowfall of the season, and it was piling up quickly - in fact, Don stepped outside and easily scooped up enough to make a few snowballs and hurl them at the giggling children behind the glass slider door. By morning, it had started to melt, but the sight left behind was certainly strange: snow on the ground with green leaves on the trees.

As if that wasn't strange enough, Saturday's forecast called for 6 to 10 inches of snow. Don didn't believe it (and truly, the meteorologists are seldom correct in our experience), but as soon as we arrived at our friends' house (an hour away) for a birthday party, the flakes started to fall. By the time we left late that evening, there were at least six inches accumulated on their porch. Others had called to warn us that there was almost no visibility on the highway. The roads were barely plowed. The brakes in our van need to be replaced. And Abby was crying. The adventure had begun.

Thankfully, my husband is a great driver, even in the worst of conditions. We knew that there would be many cars off the road - there always are during the first snowstorm, for some reason - but we were chugging along safely with my confident chauffeur at the wheel. Abby fell asleep in a few minutes, and not long after, the older children did too. The sky was bright with snowclouds, yet it was strangely dark. Stores, gas stations, and even hotels sat in eerie darkness while snow piled up around them. They had no power - which meant neither did the street lights. Or the traffic lights. We cruised through several blackened lights and hoped we wouldn't miss the sign for the highway, since many of the roadsigns were covered with snowdrifts. Eventually we were on the highway, following in the tire tracks while the lines were buried.

An hour long car ride in good weather becomes quite a bit longer in snow, and just a bit too long for a newborn's patience. As we slowly neared our exit, passing a pile-up of cars in the breakdown lane surrounded by blue flashing lights, Abby woke up crying. Talking, singing, and letting her suck my finger had no effect, and her cries eventually escalated into full-fledged screams of distress, which certainly weren't helping my skilled driver pay attention to the road. Since we live in the day and age of seatbelt laws, I won't go into details of how it was accomplished, but eventually Abby was comforted, and we all arrived home safely to our very dark and quiet house. Our power was out, too.

We lit candles and tucked the children in with extra blankets. I am very thankful to have town water, because we at least had running water while we lacked heat and electricity. Abby wouldn't fall asleep, so I sat in the office and rocked her, looking out the snow covered trees. The next morning, the house was a frosty 56 degrees and the yard was littered with fallen branches.

I realized why the trees had looked so strange the night before: normally, snow falls on bare branches. Never before have I seen trees covered in green leaves and snow at the same time! And the weight of snow-covered leaves had caused massive damage throughout the region, taking down power lines and obstructing roads. We were very fortunate to have our power back by lunch time on Sunday. While many even in our town waited another 24 hours or more for electricity, we were without it for just long enough to truly appreciate the luxuries of electric heat, hot showers, and warm drinks.

All bundled up

Sweet Abigail is just three weeks old and blissfully unaware of what happens outside her window, but if she could remember it, she would have quite a story to tell her grandchildren. In less than a month, she has lived through all four seasons of weather (except, perhaps, the one we're supposed to be experiencing) and survived a potentially dangerous trip through an unusual snowstorm. For those of us old enough to understand, this October's wacky weather has been a chance to remember the One who reigns over the skies and the seasons. Tonight I am thanking the Lord for His protection, His providence, and His power to control the forces of nature - in any way He chooses!

See, the Lord, the LORD Almighty,
will lop off the boughs with great power.
The lofty trees will be felled,
the tall ones will be brought low.
Isaiah 10:33

Wordless Wednesday: Sleep Smiles

2011-10-26T19:53:00.000-04:00

When you lie down, you will not be afraid;
when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.
Proverbs 3:24

Blog Bash 2011

2011-10-25T21:47:00.000-04:00

Tonight I am joining in The Ultimate Blog Bash 2011 hosted by Women Living Well Ministries, so if you are visiting for the first time, welcome! And to my regular reader(s), please bear with me as I introduce myself, my family, and my reason for blogging.

My name is Manda, or at least that's what I prefer to be called, though relatives and doctors continue to put a capital A at the beginning. I have been married to my dear Donald (generally referred to as Don, though I actually never, ever call him that) for seven and a half years, and we are looking forward to celebrating our second anniversary in February. (Yes, you read that correctly. Did you figure out when we got married?) He and I are opposites in many ways, which has made our relationship challenging at times, but I am ever thankful that the God of grace has helped us stay together through our mutual faith in Him. I am blessed to have a partner in life who loves the Lord and desires to lead our family in His ways. I am always learning from my husband, too, since he is an expert on computers, gymnastics, guns, hunting, fitness, politics, a myriad of science topics, and, umm...video games. It is his visionary and adventurous personality that leads us to dream up what I used to refer to as "our latest life plan of the week." We are always considering moving or changing careers, and of course we keep things interesting by adding new members to the family every few years.

My handsome husband and me

All of our children have been given to us in God's perfect timing, and by allowing Him to plan and space them, He has so far blessed with a pretty perfect blend. Donny (technically Donald the Third) will be 7 in December, Hayden will be 5 in November, Lydia turned 2 in June, and Abigail Joy was just born this month. I am privileged to homeschool our boys, and since I have been teaching them together, both of them are just about to finish the My Father's World First Grade curriculum. Lydia doesn't realize that she is only two; she wants to do whatever her brothers are doing, whether it's writing with a pencil or reading a book. Now that she is a big sister, she showers "Baby Abby" with hugs, kisses, and general lovey smothering. Little Abigail is a typical newborn, existing to nurse, sleep, cry, and melt our hearts with her tiny sweetness. I am so thankful to be a mother. God's Word says that children are blessings, and though they may be loud and messy and annoying at (most) times, I know it is a great honor and a wonderful responsibility to train these little ones up to know and love the Lord!

Our four gifts from God

Being a wife, mother, and homemaker is my dream job, but it is also full of challenges that would be overwhelming were it not for the grace of God. He is my strength, my hope, and the reason that my routine domestic life has any value in eternity. When I started blogging back in 2008, I was inspired by one of my favorite verses, Isaiah 40:11:

He tends his flock like a shepherd:
He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart;
he gently leads those that have young.

I love this picture as the Lord as my Shepherd, tenderly caring for me, and gently leading me as I strive to raise my little lambs for Him. We are so blessed to be carried close to the heart of a loving Father! With this in mind, I strive to keep my blog centered on Christ and the inspiration of His Word. You will find lots of tidbits about our family's experiences and my personal struggles, but woven throughout, I pray you will see a testimony of what God is doing in my life, to mold me into the person He created me to be, as I daily walk through the fields of life with my Shepherd.

Thanks for stopping by, and please feel free to leave me a comment and say hello!

An Honest Look at the Postpartum Period

2011-10-22T15:11:00.000-04:00

Postpartum: of or noting the period of time following childbirth. It is a time of change and adjustment, a time of ups and downs, a time of all things new, yet full of predictable sameness. It can be ugly, and it can be beautiful and special and wonderful at the same time.

It is a difficult time to get dressed. Nothing fits quite right: maternity clothes hang limp, while regular clothes are too tight, and the little bulge that was cute to show off at four months pregnant is not so cute when it's no longer a baby. Thanks to nursing, shirts are too tight and too short, and nursing pads become a required part of getting dressed if one wants to avoid embarrassing leaks. At times my body feels like a leaky, dripping mess all over. Other times, I find a cute nursing tank top or an early pregnancy shirt that actually fits, and I feel comfortable for a little while.

Without the structured demands of homeschooling and regular chores and outings, the days at home are long. Accomplishments for the day are generally limited to showering, making the bed, and feeding everyone something with a shred of nutrition every few hours. (Who says leftover mashed potatoes and peanut butter spoons aren't a meal?) Left to their own devices, the older children are - at best - zoned out in front of PBS, and at worst, dumping out every puzzle piece and train track while they rearrange the living room and argue over who had it and who did it. The baby routine consists of constant nursing, burping, changing, and consoling between unpredictable naps. When the older ones are finally tucked in bed, baby time continues, with moments of sweet snuggles intermixed with wide-awake 4am cries and occasionally pacing a cold tile floor while the rest of house sleeps. Sleep is often broken, and filled with vivid and bizarre dreams. Yet some precious afternoons include naps with newborn and perhaps toddler cuddled close beside.

Emotions are messy. Delight over the gift of a new life mixes with fatigue and frustration. I get choked up reading The Giving Tree to my children. I fall in love with my baby's coos and contented sighs. I take my husband's off-hand comments personally, but treasure our (often-interrupted) times of closeness. Some moments seem insurmountably painful, while in others, I realize that I am abundantly blessed

The camera is always close at hand for capturing the sweet sibling moments and first hints of smiles. After all, with the exception of her three older siblings, this is surely the cutest baby in the universe, and these early days must be documented before they quickly fade away. And quickly they do. I may wish the days away to speed the recovery of my body, but I am in no hurry to give up the sweetness of a warm, sleepy newborn snuggled up on my chest. All too soon, I will be looking back at her baby pictures and vaguely remembering when she was so tiny and new.

And during this time of contradictions, I realize more than ever how much I don't have it all together: as a mother, a wife, a teacher, a housekeeper. How I desperately need God's grace in my life. How without his Spirit working in me, I am an emotional basket case subject to the whims of hormone surges and sugar cravings. How without a daily dose of His Word and continual turning to Him in prayer, it is easy to be overwhelmed or just plain caught in the day-to-day routine without producing any spiritual fruit. Yet God is so gracious, to give me strength for each day when I remember to turn to Him and ask for it. In the midst of changing schedules and new additions, I must call on Him and seek His face. And whether rocking or reading or resting, I must choose to speak words of praise. He is with me through every trial and joy of motherhood, and when I choose to praise Him instead of dwelling on my troubles, the trials of this world seem to pass as quickly as these fleeting postpartum days.

The LORD is righteous in all his ways
and loving toward all he has made.
The LORD is near to all who call on him,
to all who call on him in truth.
He fulfills the desires of those who fear him;
he hears their cry and saves them.
The LORD watches over all who love him,
but all the wicked he will destroy.
My mouth will speak in praise of the LORD.
Let every creature praise his holy name
for ever and ever.
Psalm 145:17-21

The Father's Joy: Not a VBAC Story

2011-10-18T20:00:00.000-04:00

A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world.
John 16:21

(Disclaimer: This is a birth story. Some details may not be appropriate for men, children, or the squeamish. :)

On the afternoon of Sunday the 9th, my husband and I dropped the children off at my parents' house and drove to the hospital for my pre-op appointment. I was having some contractions, enough to make me somewhat uncomfortable and even require the occasional deep breath, but then again, I had been having sporadic contractions for a few weeks. As expected, the pre-op included signing paperwork, having blood drawn, and going over every detail of the morning's scheduled surgery with the nurse. When our questions had been answered, Don and I went to dinner at our favorite steakhouse to enjoy one more date before baby came (and so that I wouldn't have any dishes to wash). We came home to a strangely quiet house. I folded the last scraps of laundry, emptied the trash, and double-checked our bags to ensure that everything was packed. We were as ready as we could possibly be to bring home a new baby.

Before heading to bed, I quickly looked up some information on "irritable uterus." Apparently, the term refers to frequent, irregular contractions toward the end of pregnancy that - unlike true labor - do not cause the cervix to dilate. With the frequent tightness and contracting I had recently experienced, I suspected that my uterus was, in fact, irritable. Don and I stayed up too late talking, and when he went to sleep around midnight, I found myself lying wide awake. I finally got to sleep after an hour or so, only to wake up sometime after 3am with continuing contractions. These were strong enough that I couldn't sleep through them, and found myself wanting to change positions instead of lying still. After several had come and gone, I started glancing at the clock at the start of each one. They were four minutes apart. For anyone else, that would signal time to head to the hospital, but I knew my body. Since we had to be there at 6am anyway, I figured that I probably could just wait. So for two hours, I quietly drifted through steady contractions every four minutes. Finally, it was 5am and time to get up.

"So, if we get there and I'm at, like, 2 centimeters, we'll go ahead with the C-section as planned," I proposed to Don, "but if I'm in active labor, maybe we can wait a few hours and see if she comes out?" "We'll see," he replied, as we drove through the silent darkness. It was too early for anyone else, or even the sun, to be up, and since I had hardly slept, it felt like it was still night. We arrived at the hospital a little before our 6:00 appointment, and I mentioned that I was having a lot of contractions. The first nurse I saw, ironically, was a friend of a friend whom I had gotten to know at our mutual friend's party several months ago. She seemed excited that I might be in active labor and asked if I wanted to be checked. Since we know each other, she called in another nurse to check me. I wasn't dilated. "I can barely get a fingertip in there," the second nurse said. Yes, several hours of painful contractions every four minutes had done absolutely nothing to push this baby out.

As frustrating as this news could have been, it actually brought me a lot of peace. I couldn't help but laugh at God's timing, to send me this mock labor just hours before my scheduled surgery. If the contractions had started just a few days earlier, I'm sure I would have been back and forth to the doctor's office several times waiting for my cervix to dilate, all while having painful contractions, and it probably would have ended much like Lydia's birth - with a baby that wouldn't come out. Instead, the Lord gave me just enough contractions to feel like I was doing something good for Abby's health. (Statistically, C-section babies who experience labor before birth have fewer breathing problems than those that are taken straight from the womb without experiencing labor contractions.) And He gave me peace in knowing that a natural, uncomplicated delivery was not His plan for this baby - beyond a doubt, submitting to my husband in scheduling the C-section had been the right thing to do. In fact, we had even picked the right day, because with the intensity of my contractions, I would have been heading to the hospital on the 10th either way! I knew that God would work everything out in His perfect timing, but He arranged the details even more perfectly than I could have imagined, so that I was fully, completely ready to have the C-section at 7:30am that morning.

Like when Lydia was born, inserting the IV was a failure due to my wiggly arm veins. When my nurse friend missed (and felt terrible about it), another nurse came in to start my IV and get me completely prepped for surgery. My contractions slowed down significantly as Don and I waited in our hospital room for the process to begin. After meeting with the doctor and anesthesiologist, it was finally time to walk down the hall to the OR. Don wasn't allowed to come in yet, so I had to sit on the edge of the table and lean against a nursing student for what seemed like a very long time as I waited for the spinal needle to be inserted. As soon as the discomfort was over, I felt somewhat sick and lightheaded. They laid me on the operating table as my lower half slowly fell asleep. I realized one advantage to an emergency Cesarean: everything happens so quickly, there is no time to realize how unpleasant it is. Lying sprawled out, drugged, and unable to move as doctors prepped every last detail seemed to last for ages this time. Finally, my sweet husband was allowed to come stand by my head and comfort me. I was concerned that I didn't feel numb yet; it was more like my legs were asleep. In fact, during the procedure, I was sure that someone or something was repeatedly poking me in the same spot. When Don looked, however, I was apparently cut wide open and nothing was touching the area where I was feeling pressure. It was strange and unpleasant, but apparently the discomfort was all in my head!

The details are fuzzy, but at some point during the procedure, I really didn't feel well. According to the anesthesiologist, my heart rate fell to something like 50 beats per minute and he had to give me medicine to get my heart rate up. Later, I felt tugging and knew this meant baby was coming out! "Guess what was around her neck two times?" Don asked. Like her brothers and sister before her, this baby had likewise strangled herself in the umbilical cord. Thankfully, in a C-section, a cord around the neck is not the problem in can often be during a vaginal delivery. (Both of my boys were fine within a few minutes of birth, but it certainly scared their Daddy to see them come out blue.) And soon after the tugging sensation, there was some very pronounced crying: our baby girl was born!

Of course, the nurses immediately took her to the side of the room to clean her up, examine, and weigh her. They were blocking my view, so Don took a picture and brought it back to show me. "Does she look like an Abigail?" he asked, knowing the name I was leaning towards. I said I needed to see her, not just a picture. Finally, after another long wait, they brought the naked baby over to me and placed her right on my chest. After having two babies whisked away after their vaginal births, I have longingly wished that I could hold my newborn against my chest immediately after birth, instead of seeing them for the first time swaddled in hospital blankets. This time, despite the wait, my first contact with my baby was a precious skin-to-skin bonding opportunity. She was so tiny: 5 pounds, 9 ounces, wonderfully perfect, and definitely an Abigail. When I noticed her tiny mouth rooting around on my chest, I asked for some help (not being able to move much, as I was still being sewn up) and allowed her to nurse. Right on the operating table, my little Abigail was nursing, and I was as happy as someone undergoing surgery could possibly be.

To complete my operation, the doctor stitched me back together on the inside, and then used superglue to seal my incision. I had no idea that superglue was a medical product, but supposedly it will heal with a clean scar, and no stitches to remove. The doctor had also cut around and removed my old scar, so this way I will only have one scar line from the two surgeries. Don and I asked him whether my uterus looked thin; after all, that was the reason an elective Cesarean had been recommended to me by the last doctor. No, he said, it didn't look unusually thin. The next day, in fact, he said he didn't see any reason it shouldn't hold up for another pregnancy, and that labor would even be possibility if I wanted to try it. Praise God for His healing hand on my womb!

The rest of the day was spent resting, recovering, and introducing Abby to her grandparents and siblings. Even after feeling returned to my legs, I couldn't get up because the medication from the spinal left me lightheaded and queasy. Still, I was able to snuggle with Abby and nurse her almost continually - for the first 24 hours, she was either sleeping or sucking. My sister-in-law noted that Don looked better than he ever had after the birth of one of our children. Certainly, this had been the easiest and least traumatic for him. Everything had gone smoothly, and sweet little Abigail was perfectly safe and healthy.

The name Abigail means "father's joy," so it fit her perfectly. Abigail Joy, our double joy, had brought joy to her earthly father with her smooth and predictable birth. And I trust that her Heavenly Father, who knew every heart conflict that led up to the day of her birth, was filled with joy as well. I will always be a supporter of the amazing miracle of natural labor and birth, and I would encourage other C-section moms to consider trying a VBAC with their doctor and husband's approval. But for Abigail and me, the scheduled C-section turned out to be the best plan. I am feeling better emotionally than I ever have in the postpartum weeks, and my physical discomfort is much than I experienced with my first C-section. Truly the Lord has been faithful to answer our prayer that this sweet baby, this gift from His own hand, would be received into the world with an abundance of joy.

A Perfect 10

2011-10-10T16:42:00.001-04:00

The Lord has blessed us with another beautiful baby girll! Abigail Joy arrived by C-section this morning, 10/10/11. She weighs 5 pounds, 9 ounces and is 19 inches long. I am nauseous and sleepy, but otherwise doing well. Abby is healthy and nursing eagerly. I will share her birth story and more pictures when I am feeling up to it. For now, thank you for your prayers, and for rejoicing with us over this precious gift from the Lord!

Listen to me, you islands;
hear this, you distant nations:
Before I was born the LORD called me;
from my birth he has made mention of my name.
Isaiah 49:1

39 Week Anticipation

2011-10-08T23:45:00.000-04:00

It's hard to believe that just two days from now, Lord willing, I will be holding my newborn baby in my arms.

The pregnancy went by quickly, in some ways, yet in other ways it seems like I have been pregnant forever, and it's almost strange that soon I won't be. Soon the awkward baby bump will be exchanged for a recovering body and a precious little distraction to nurture. My hideous veins will shrink back to something resembling a normal lower half of a body, while a new scar forms at the site of the doctor's careful incision. Eventually I won't feel so short of breath when I walk up stairs (assuming I get back into a workout routine!) or lightheaded when I delay breakfast for more than half an hour after rising. The delightful kicks, stretches, and hiccups of a growing fetus will be exchanged for the intimacy of nursing and night wakings. Overall, I love being pregnant in many ways, but I am happy to exchange it for a new addition to our family!

This pregnancy has been fairly uneventful, yet slightly different from others. I have had occasional insomnia; if I wake up in the middle of the night, it takes an hour to fall back asleep. I often feel that God is keeping me away during these times to pray, and I try to take advantage of that precious time with Him. I have not gained much weight - only about 18 pounds. With my first pregnancy, I gained almost 30 pounds, and my little Donny turned out to be only 5 pounds, 5 ounces! It will be interesting to find out how big (or small) this baby is. Certainly she seems to be a calcium-craver, because I have been consuming chocolate milk, yogurt (which I formerly hated), and milk-based smoothies on a daily basis. Earlier in the pregnancy, I suspected that she would be shy and mellow, because ultrasounds showed baby holding an arm over her face, and it seemed that she didn't move much in the second trimester. See the little arm covering the face on this 12 week ultrasound photo?

Now that I have been watching my belly twitch and contort for a few months, however, I have no doubt that this little one will be as active as her sister and brothers. I have had Braxton-Hicks contractions for a few minutes each day since 27 weeks, but the past few weeks have brought frequent, more uncomfortable contractions, especially in the evenings, that imitate early labor and then disappear. With my history of long labors, I don't expect to have to rush off to the hospital at any moment, but the contractions do serve as a reminder that baby is coming soon!

And on that end, I am finally feeling prepared. In the past few weeks, I have checked a satisfying number of items off of my nesting to-do list. Baby clothes, blankets, and diapers are freshly washed and put away. Cupboards and drawers are organized. Shopping, baking, and miscellaneous appointments are done. Babysitters and birth plans are in place. The Pack 'N Play and new Moses basket are waiting for a sweet little bundle of dreams to be nestled in them. If only for a day or two, the house is clean, ready for our family to return home.

The "big kids" are ready too. Their fall clothes are unpacked, new shoes purchased, summer things are washed and put away. Lydia sleeps in the boys' room now (for part of the night, at least) on her own trundle mattress, while Hayden gets the full-size bottom bunk and Donny has his own special top-bunk space. The boys have been plugging away at their first grade work, so we will have only two weeks of curriculum to finish up after we settle in with baby. Lydia is excited to be a big sister, and eagerly tells how the baby will wear pink jammies, and "After the baby comes out of Mumma's belly, Daddy will help me pick up the baby and give her a big hug!" Even now, she gives my belly sweet hugs and kisses, and since one of her favorite lines is, "What can I do to help you?" I trust that she will be a great helper to me. The boys are looking forward to meeting their new sister, too. Donny even made a card to give to the new baby:

It is reassuring to know that even though I technically picked the date of my scheduled c-section, this baby, like any other, will be arriving in God's perfect time. He is the one who allowed the conception to occur in just the right time to bless us with the first October birthday in the family. Don just mentioned, as he decided to procrastinate on his Sunday School lesson, that perhaps the Rapture will happen tonight, and he won't even need a lesson. I replied that it is also possible, and slightly even more likely, that the baby will come tonight! Though we don't know the day or the hour when Jesus will return, it is the sweetest anticipation to know that He is coming again. And while we wait here on earth, there are blessings to look forward to, like the tiny miracle I am anticipating on Monday.

Yes, LORD, walking in the way of your laws,
we wait for you;
your name and renown
are the desire of our hearts.
Isaiah 26:8

Living Sacrifices

2011-09-28T23:12:00.000-04:00

Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—
this is your spiritual act of worship.
Romans 12:1

I am 38 weeks pregnant today. With two weeks left until my due date, and a mere 12 days until my scheduled C-section, I have finally realized that baby is coming soon - perhaps any day now. This pregnancy has not exactly flown by, but for much of it, I was distracted by other things: showing the house, trying to move, homeschooling and training the three blessings I already have. Only now, in these final days, has my focus turned inward to the wiggling, hiccuping creature whom I am soon to meet face to face.

And because I was distracted, and didn't even know which state we would be living in, for a long time I put off any serious discussion of this baby's birth. After my long and unsuccessful labor with Lydia ended in a Cesarean section, the doctor recommended that any future babies be likewise delivered surgically. Reportedly, my uterus was "unusually thin," and therefore at a greater risk of rupture. Uterine rupture, while not quite the internal combustion that it sounds like, is a serious health threat to mother and baby, and can end in blood transfusions, hysterectomy or occasionally death. While the risks of rupture for VBAC (vaginal birth after Cesarean) are generally only around 1% or less, it is entirely possible that my personal risk may be much higher.

On the other hand, for most mothers who have had successful vaginal deliveries, VBAC is a good option. Recovering from natural childbirth is a much faster and less painful process than recovery from major abdominal surgery. And having numerous C-sections, for those of us who hope to be blessed with many children, carries risks of placenta previa and other problems caused by excessive scarring. So when I switched to a different obstetrical practice and said I would like a VBAC, all of the doctors and midwives I saw were very supportive. "You've done it before," one doctor said, "So why not?" They reviewed the risks of both options with me, as well as the precautions that would be taken with a VBAC (a doctor present in the hospital at all times, continuous fetal monitoring, etc.). Not once did they recommend elective surgery. And as someone who loves (in a strange way) the amazing sensations of natural childbirth, hated the painful recovery from a surgical birth, and hopes to bear many more children, I was prayerfully hoping to avoid another Cesarean.

The only problem? My loving husband, who watched me pass out after Hayden's birth and saw both of our boys born strangled in their umbilical cords, firmly believed that surgery is the safest option for me. After reviewing the paperwork and talking with one of my doctors about my history, his opinion was unyielding. My doctor reminded me that ultimately it is my body and my choice; I am the one who must give consent for elective surgery. While her advice seems logical, the Bible often contradicts our culture's idea of common sense, and this is no exception. Consider these words:

The wife’s body does not belong to her alone but also to her husband. In the same way, the husband’s body does not belong to him alone but also to his wife. - 1 Corinthians 7:4

In fact, my body does NOT just belong to me. It belongs to my husband, and to fight against his wishes for my body (as well as for our unborn child) is to fight against God's command for me to submit to my husband's authority (Ephesians 5:24). Even more importantly, my body belongs to the Lord. Despite my firm belief that birth is a natural and beautiful experience that many mothers have missed out on because of unnecessary medical interventions, I cannot claim that there is something holier about fighting for a vaginal birth over a surgical one. I may wonder why I, a willing laborer, am denied the opportunity to experience birth when so many other women want to avoid it, but then the Lord gently reminds me of my selfishness. How many women have suffered the pain of barrenness? Or of loss, to repeated miscarriages, a stillbirth, or the death of a child? How many suffer intense complications during pregnancy that steal their comfort and threaten their lives? In light of this, who am I - already a mother of three healthy babies - to complain if I don't get to choose the method my infant's delivery?

As I struggled with these thoughts, the Lord faithfully reminded me of Romans 12, one of my favorite passages of the Bible because its advice is so practical. "Offer your bodies as living sacrifices," Paul writes. Not, "Don't let anyone mess with your body." Not, "Protect your body and keep it healthy." But offer it as a sacrifice to the Lord, as an act of worship to Him. How beautiful! By choosing to submit to my husband, I can not only honor him, but also present a beautiful sacrifice to my Lord. The drugged aftermath of surgery, the weeks of abdominal discomfort, and the loss of any victorious birth I may or may not have experienced are tiny sacrifices to make. In God's mercy to me, He allowed His own son to suffer and die a humiliating death on a cross. When Jesus sacrificed everything for me, how selfish am I to resist any minuscule sacrifice of my own body for Him?

And so, I scheduled the C-section. Being a planner, there is a part of me that actually likes the stability of knowing the final possible date of baby's arrival. And being someone who loves interesting dates, I was very happy that the week of opportunity (it had to be scheduled sometime after 39 weeks) allowed me to choose 10/10 as this little one's birthday. Don and I agreed to schedule the surgery for the 10th, two days before my due date, but to allow a trial of labor if baby decides to come earlier and everything looks normal. And now we wait. I have had enough contractions in the past week to make me think that labor is imminent, but I also know that I am likely to meet this baby at a scheduled time and place. Either way, I know God is in control, and that my faith in His perfect timing will be tested in the next two weeks. Will I really trust Him to deliver this baby in His time, in His way? I pray that whenever and however this baby is born, that my actions will be holy and pleasing to God. May I bear children not for my own glory, but for His.

Kittery Trading Post Septemberfest

2011-09-15T23:30:00.000-04:00

Our family woke up early on Saturday morning to prepare for the long ride to one of our favorite stores, the Kittery Trading Post. This was our third year attending the weeklong Septemberfest sale and festival, but the first time we ever had a sunny day to fully enjoy all the festivities.

As soon as we walked in the door at 9am, we were greeted with raffle tickets and balloons for the children, which provided a welcome, if noisy, diversion while Daddy tried on hunting boots.

Besides shopping for camo hunting gear, we spent plenty of time checking out the weapons, from toy guns...

...to compound bows, like the one Don bought to hunt with this year. I was specifically interested in looking at the pink bows (to match the pink and black .22 Sig Sauer Mosquito Don got me for Christmas, of course), and a helpful salesman showed me this option. I call this picture "Lydia with a pink bow" - not quite what you might expect!

While we were there, my generous husband did, in fact, buy me a pink bow and arrow set so that I can practice target shooting. Since I haven't been able to shoot my gun while pregnant, archery seems like a more mom-friendly sport to practice. After we made our large purchase, we headed outside to enjoy our picnic lunch and the free activities offered during Septemberfest. As it turned out, the kids' archery range was stocked with Genesis bows just like the one that I had just purchased, so we all go to try it out! Here's Hayden at his archery lesson:

We also practiced shooting a BB rifle, which the boys were great at! Hayden knocked down 5 targets with his 12 shots, while Donny got 9 out of 12. I was afraid to try at first, not wanting to find out that my preschooler is a better shot than I am, but 11 of my 12 attempts hit the targets, so I was happy.

The children also got to enjoy pony rides (though Lydia spent her first time on a horse clinging desperately to a stranger rather than the animal itself!), and Don and the boys tried out the rock climbing wall.

On his second attempt, Donny climbed all the way to the top! Considering how often he is afraid of...well, anything...Don and I were surprised that the height didn't scare him, and so proud that he ventured all the way up! Hayden made it as far as his four year-old arms and legs could reach, and I'm sure within a couple years he will be scaling the wall, too.

The other highlight of the outdoor activities was the Birds of Prey show, which we remembered seeing two years ago, when I posed with a bald eagle and bald Lydia:

The show was just as interesting two years later, with the same bald eagle showing off his injured wing. In the middle of the show, one of the falcons started squawking because a real wild bald eagle was soaring right over us!

After some more browsing in the camping, fishing, and bicycle sections, we concluded our trip with a promised stop at the fudge stand to buy a box of yummy dessert. Overall, we had a wonderful day and can't wait to go back again next year. Even Lydia spent the next 48 hours saying she wanted to "Go back to the big store on Sunday." It was such a blessing to enjoy beautiful weather, fun new toys, shared experiences, and some quality family time!

Elisha said, “Get a bow and some arrows,” and he did so.
2 Kings 13:15
;)

Showered with Blessings

2011-09-02T23:43:00.000-04:00

I will send down showers in season;
there will be showers of blessing.
~ Ezekiel 34:26b

I thought I was going to a ladies' dinner at my mom's house. I was looking forward to the time of fellowship with Christian friends, despite having to leave the children at home with a reluctant husband. I called on my way to let Mum know I was running about 15 minutes late. When I pulled in, there were a few more cars lining the road than I had anticipated - including one that bore a striking resemblance to my sister-in-law's minivan - but I didn't think much of it. Then my mom met me in the driveway and told me, "There are a few extra people here....because it's a baby shower."

"For whom?" I asked. (Okay, I said "who," but "whom" is correct.)

Had any thought run through my head before I spoke, I would have realized the obvious: it was for the pregnant lady who just arrived! Yes, for my fourth baby, my dear mother planned and executed my first-ever surprise party and baby shower. Since Donny was conceived so shortly after my wedding and we were blessed with ample hand-me-downs for him, I never had a baby shower. When Hayden came along two years later, we had everything we needed for a baby boy. Even when Lydia was born in 2009, generous friends and relatives provided all the girlie hand-me-downs and sweet new pink things we could imagine using. It certainly wasn't a thought in my mind that anyone would plan a shower for me at this point in motherhood, but it was a wonderful surprise! (Oh, and my husband's reluctance to watch the children was all part of the cover-up!)

I was happy to see my good friend Audra there, who is due exactly one month before me. This is the second time we've been pregnancy buddies - both times while expecting girls - so we of course had to get a baby bellies picture.

I savored a delicious catered dinner of lasagna followed by homemade apple pie (my favorite!) from another dear friend. I also had the fun of opening precious little girlie outfits (including some with a matching dress for Lydia!), toys, gift cards, and even some books and movies for the older children to enjoy while I'm busy with the new baby. We were even blessed with this adorable handmade quilt!

Thanks, Mum, for a special night, and for being a great mommy to your own two girls! I love you!

Exploring the Boston Museum of Science

2011-08-18T22:24:00.000-04:00

For this week's Exploration (a.k.a. Science) Day, I planned an exciting field trip to the Museum of Science in Boston. Armed with a map of the exhibits, reserved library pass, and a willing Grammy to navigate the crazy streets of Boston, we were ready to learn.

The adventure didn't start out so well. First, it took half an hour to install Lydia's car seat in my mom's new car. Once we were finally loaded up, we began the hour long ride to Boston. It wasn't until we were nearly all the way there that I realized I had forgotten to pick up the library pass! We had come too far to turn around now, but without the coupon pass, I knew admission would be outrageous. To add to the excitement, the museum parking garage was full, so my mom dropped the children and me off at the door while she followed directions to park two blocks away.

In the meantime, I asked the two employees at the Information Booth if there was any way they could call my library and get the pass information over the phone. The answer was no. I checked out regular admission prices, and sure enough, just for two adults and two children over 3, we were looking at spending $80 - not exactly the $20 I had planned to shell out with my library pass! I went to the ticket counter and asked my question of the agent there. She said it might be possible; I would have to go over to the Membership Desk. I pulled my three camo-clad children away from swinging on the bars and we hiked toward the membership desk. The woman working there again told me no, there was nothing they could do; they needed the physical coupon in order to give me the discounted price. I was unsure what to do when the man behind the counter spoke up. If my library would agree to mail them the pass, they could let me in. My cell phone was (of course) dying, but the man was kind enough to call the library himself, and thankfully some obliging librarian agreed to mail the pass to the museum. Thank you Lord! With a coupon in hand, we went back to the ticketing line (which was now quite long), quickly confirmed with my mom that yes, we could get in, so she could go ahead and park, and I purchased our $20 worth of general admission. We sat down to eat our packed lunch in the atrium, and by the time we were finished, Grammy met us there, and we were ready to finally explore the museum.

Knowing that the museum is huge, I had spent some time researching online and asking a friend's opinion about the best exhibits to see. I knew we would be steering clear of the Human Evolution and Human Body exhibits, and my boys already know - since we are firm believers in a young earth - to dismiss anything that claimed to be millions of years old. With so many exhibits to see, we also didn't find it necessary to add on the optional Omni Theater, Planetarium, or Butterfly Garden tickets. However, we did make sure to see one of the free Live Animal Shows. The children got to get close to a toad, uromastyx lizard, ball python, rats, and a pretty cute porcupine, and had the opportunity to ask the experts all their questions.

Watching the Live Animal Show

After that, we explored A Bird's World (with lots of pretend birds in glass cases) before checking out the fascinating Audiokinetic Sculpture and other neat displays. We just talked about water wheels last week!

Making scary faces at the petrified wood from Arizona:

We thought we would take a quick walk through Natural Mysteries, but it turned out to be one of the highlights of the trip, with all kinds of treasures tucked in drawers for the children to find. Hayden loved this computer game that identifies skulls. Here he is with the deer skull - we thought hunter Daddy would be proud!

Lydia and me (and baby belly!) with the big "stuffed animals." That was once a real tiger!

Moving on to the Dinosaurs, we got to stand next to the remains of a real triceratops!

Lydia and Hayden both enjoyed pressing buttons on the various computer games, while Donny was more interested in the actual information, such as how big dinosaurs were compared to humans.

After a quick walk past the train and boat models in Machines and Transportation, we grabbed a snack and moved on to the Discovery Center. Intended for children under age 8, this was like a miniature version of the big museum, reminiscent of our small local children's museum. All three children remained engrossed for a good hour in imaginative play, sorting rocks, assembling and identifying animal skeletons, and even playing dress-up with some animal costumes.

Here are Hayden and Lydia being geologists - Donny was too busy classifying rocks to pose for a picture!

Next, we went To The Moon...at least in our imaginations. Here everyone is ready for takeoff in the spaceship!

It could have been a full trip without ever setting foot on the third floor, but we ventured up there to play around in Science in the Park, which probably would have been a lot more fun if it hadn't been jam-packed with older children. My little ones had more fun at the empty Investigate! exhibit next door, where they got to use paintbrushes to under hidden artifacts. Ironically, we just did a similar activity a few weeks ago when we pretended to be archeologists and dug up artifacts hidden by the lake at Grammy's. A few of the buried items there, however, were never found!

By the time we had checked out the bizarre paintings and optical illusions in Seeing is Deceiving, the announcement came that the museum would be closing in 15 minutes. I was amazed that we ended up spending about 6 hours in the museum, without anyone getting bored. While Donny demonstrated the most fascination with various subjects, Hayden and even Lydia remained engaged the whole time. As we walked the two blocks back to my mom's car, the boys recounted their favorite parts of the museum, while Lydia, after a long day of scientific discovery, fell asleep in Grammy's arms. Despite the rough start to the day, our field trip to the Museum of Science turned out to be a worthwhile adventure, as we discovered all kinds of fascinating things about the amazing world God made!

For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.
Colossians 1:16-17

The Mission Field in My Yard

2011-08-11T23:47:00.000-04:00

Come, my children, listen to me;
I will teach you the fear of the LORD.
Psalm 34:11

"Come my children, listen to me." Yes, that is my earnest plea today, though it so often feels ignored. It has been that kind of day, not unbelievably painful, not unforgettably sweet, but the usual mix of strains and stresses and everyday routine.

School started late, and took extra long while Hayden whined and yawned instead of copying two sentences into his Bible notebook. Donny threw fits when I gave him yogurt instead of oatmeal for lunch, when I told him to go get in the van (there are BEES outside, you know!), and when we sat on the couch instead of his bed to read Bible. And dear Lydia has learned the fine art of screaming whenever someone else dares to stand on the kitchen stool. "Listen to me" seems a gross understatement of the lectures I want to hurl at these seemingly deaf ears.

After a long morning, though, we take a quick trip to the furniture store to check out potential bunk beds, and we stay a few minutes longer to enjoy the free candy and ice cream. When we get home, I insist (despite the protests of the two eldest) that God gave us a beautiful day, and WE ARE GOING TO PLAY OUTSIDE. Amazingly, within minutes they are busy with sticks and rocks and pretend adventures, and I have a few moments to observe, reflect, and (almost) relax.

I feel the breeze of a surprisingly pleasant afternoon and see my children, for a few moments at least, interacting without anyone screaming or whining or executing violence. I realize that somewhere between the sibling battles and the pencils thrown in anger and Braxton-Hicks contractions and Lydia's 4.5 baths (milk spills, yogurt lunch, and a couple potty accidents will do that)...yes, somewhere in there is something I don't want to miss.

The days are long, but yet so fleeting. Lydia is no longer a baby; she is sleeping in her brothers' room and asserting herself with an ever-expanding and impressive vocabulary. Donny lost his third tooth a few weeks ago - apparently Hayden threw laundry at his face, knocking out the tooth which was finally located at the bottom of the laundry basket. He has another loose one, but won't let anyone wiggle it. Hayden is not yet five years old, but is reading and doing math at a level that is advanced even for his six year old brother. Even this new baby, whose growth has been mostly ignored due to many distractions, is bulging out in a gently ungraceful reminder that soon there will be one more little person to love.

I am still outside, with one eye keeping watch on the children and the other skimming a magazine. As I flip through the latest issue of The Old Schoolhouse, my eyes fall on the word "missionary." I wonder, as Don and I have periodically discussed, if maybe we should be missionaries somewhere. I think of our collective love for children and orphans, and my particular heart for babies. If we could just get out of this house and go somewhere, I muse, maybe we could really, finally, do something for God.

The thoughts are fleeting as I quickly realize, I AM doing something for God. This is the mission field God gave me: not to start a Haitian orphanage or bring the Gospel to the streets of Calcutta, but to love the people in my own home. To bring the Gospel to them by reading the Word, explaining the Word, and living the Word. To be patient in correcting stubborn hearts, gentle in teaching the truth, sincere in making my life an example of Christ's love. To be joyful always, regardless of what discouragement Satan may throw my way. This is God's mission for me. Foreign countries, preaching in the streets, and even adoption may sound bigger and more glamorous than everyday motherhood, but the lost souls who need me the most are right here, digging dirt in my yard and spilling food at my table.

The evening is no more idyllic than the morning, as even such simple-sounding tasks as reading the Bible become mountains of challenge when three wiggly children are involved. Fatigue sets in, and my heart aches to see these little ones, who can recite Scripture so effortlessly and belt out songs of praise, demonstrate no love for others, no faithful obedience, no fruit in their small lives. Easily, these observations lead to discouragement. But instead of despairing, I must reach out my arms to the child who won't keep his hands out of my hair, explain the truth to him, discipline with patience, and reassure him of my love. It isn't glamorous; there are no sudden changes of heart to inspire me; no outward encouragement to reassure me that I am doing what is right. Yet I thank God that He has given me this knowledge: I am on a mission from Him. Winning souls to Christ is no easy task. Training warriors for His army requires diligence and longsuffering. I must not just preach, but practice, the proper fear of the Lord. I must love others the way He first loved me. And the place He has called me to do it is here, in my yard, at my table, on my couch, and as I fervently pray over three little beds each night.

To read more about motherhood as a mission field, I highly recommend this post from Desiring God. Be encouraged in your mission to teach your children the fear of the Lord!

A Closed Door

2011-08-04T23:27:00.002-04:00

“This is what the LORD says, he who made the earth, the LORD who formed it and established it—the LORD is his name:
‘Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.’"
Jeremiah 33:2-3

The best thing about when God closes a door is knowing that He is the one who closed it.

Being all-powerful, He easily could have made our house sell for a $30,000 profit in March. Or April. Maybe a $15k profit in May. Maybe $5k in June. But despite the steady pace of showings, no offers came in. Not even little ones. We left the door open, waiting, wondering. Would we be able to get to Arizona before this baby arrived? Should we go ahead and move into a house we could easily afford out there, while still owning our home here, until some generous buyer came along to relieve us of the second mortgage? Or should we put an addition on our three bedroom ranch and turn it into a home we could be comfortable in, at least for a little while?

With a little research, I discovered that the cost to add a second story to our existing house would be about as much as a beautiful four bedroom, three bathroom home southeast of Phoenix. With signs pointing westward, Don and I flew out for a long weekend of viewing prospective homes and checking out the area. We loved it. The weather (yes, even temperatures over 100 degrees every day) is beautiful, thanks to ample sunshine and no humidity. We could picture our family living happily in these homes, especially if it meant doubling our square footage while cutting several hundred dollars out of our monthly mortgage payments. Every neighborhood was full of sidewalks, quiet roads, and playgrounds. With my clipboard and camera in hand, I jotted notes to help us compare the 20 or so homes we saw, until we narrowed it down to a list of favorites.

And we very nearly bought one. Some delays in getting a response from our loan officer gave Don time to voice his hesitation to take on a second mortgage. Meanwhile, our real estate agent back home reported that our open house had gone well, with several parties exhibiting interest. We returned to New England with anticipation of receiving an offer within a few days. Then, armed with the security of a purchase and sales agreement, we would pursue our favorite Arizona homes - if they didn't sell first.

After nearly a week of phone calls, emails, and frequently checking the computer to see what houses sold that day, the offer finally came - about $25k too low. It was so low, in fact, that in order to accept it, we would have had to bring a significant amount of money to closing, leaving us nothing for a new home. We scheduled an appraisal to prove to the buyer and her agent that our home was indeed worth what we were asking. After the appraisal, with the offer still on the table, we waited for the results through two more days of intense email checking. Finally, the answer came. I scrolled through 25 pages of comparisons, notes, and pictures in order to get to the bottom line. In today's plunging market, our house is apparently worth only what we owe on the mortgage - roughly 2/3 of its appraised value from 2006. And with such a low appraisal, no bank will finance a higher sales price on the house. In short, unless we want to pay to get out of it, there is no way to sell our house right now.

This news came on July 27. Ironically, we had said for months that if the house didn't sell by the end of July, we would take it off the market at least through Christmas. I didn't want to be moving across the country at 39 weeks pregnant, or trying to show the house while adjusting to life with a brand-new baby. And now, just in case we were tempted to change our plans, we have little choice but to do exactly what we had discussed. The house is off the market, and will stay there until prices rise (which isn't looking likely in the current economy) or we at least pay off enough principle to break even on the sale. We may look at Arizona again next spring, or next year, or maybe it will be years before the door opens for us to relocate. Only God knows.

Are we disappointed? Of course. Instead of more money, more space, and new adventures, we get the same old mortgage, the same old town we grew up in, and four children and two adults sharing two bedrooms (the third bedroom necessarily functions as Don's work-at-home office) and a single bathroom. Instead of over 300 days of sunshine, we get another long winter of ice and snow. Instead of settling into a new place, we have to figure out how to settle back in to the place we already were.

And yet, we can't be unhappy, because we know that this is God's will. For whatever reason, at this point in our lives, the Lord wants us to stay right here: in this house, in this town, in this state. Whether He has a specific ministry for us to fulfill here, or whether our family just needs a lesson in contentment, this is where God has placed us, and to fight it would only be to kick against the door that He lovingly closed.

Now that we know we will be here for a while, there are many things to figure out: which boxes to unpack, what clutter to allow, where everyone will sleep. After six months of clean counters, spacious shelves, and organized closets, I quite like the feel of living in a staged house. (And I wonder how many of those boxes in the attic I really need!) At the same time, as I mentioned in my last post, there is a strange sense of liberation in knowing that we can now display family photos or tack Bible verses to the wall. And there is a great relief in knowing that we will never have to spend an entire morning racing through the house to clean up for a showing.

So to summarize, it may not be the answer I was hoping for, but it is nevertheless an answer. We asked the Lord to open or close the door on moving this summer, and He was faithful. I cannot see what the future holds, but I trust that my God, who made the heavens and the earth, has great plans for this family. His vision is not bound by cramped bedrooms or even the depths of the Grand Canyon, and it is exciting to know that no matter where we live, God will, in His perfect timing, reveal the unsearchable things that I do not know.

Musings on Waiting (Or, "No, We Haven't Sold Our House Yet")

2011-06-18T13:19:00.070-04:00

In a way, it's nothing new. We have done this waiting thing before. We waited to hear about a job in Texas, we waited for direction on when and where to purchase a home, we waited for three months to find out if the house we wanted would be ours or not. Wondering what city and state we will live in next month or next year is a familiar feeling. In fact, it's not even a new thing to have a baby on the way without knowing what home she will live in after birth, or what state she will be born in. As Ecclesiastes 1:9 says, ...there is nothing new under the sun.

The newness for us is that we have never sold a house before. This particular brand of waiting includes weekly showings, continual tidying, and occasional home improvements as we strive to make our little home appeal to potential buyers. We keep seeing prices fall while houses with twice the square footage of ours go on the market for less. The optimism we had in February has been replaced with a lack of confidence in the current housing market. Will our home sell next week, next month, next year, or not at all? Only God knows. And so we wonder, and we wait.

In so many ways, I feel ready to move. I am ready for new adventures, new (and bigger) spaces to organize, new places to explore, new projects to tackle. I am ready to part with the imperfections of our current home: the messy yard, laundry in the basement, windows that need replacing. Besides this, it would be a relief to be done trying to sell. I boxed up many of our extra things to make the house appear less cluttery for showings, but after almost four months, I'd like to get some of those things out again. Our homeschooling maps, memory verse, and chore chart could go back on the wall. I could find the books, puzzles, and CDs that we are finally starting to miss. We could stop being prepared to make it look like no one lives here, and start living in our home again.

We do plan to resume some semblance of normal, non-selling life before baby comes. But only the Lord knows whether we will be moving across the country, across town, or simply tucking baby into a corner of our current home at that time. While we wait, I am trying to appreciate the beauty of these moments, enjoying the tidbits of summer peace after a long winter and cold spring. Robins, chipmunks, and squirrels continually hop and scurry across our yard; recently we have even spotted mourning doves, grackels, and woodpeckers. My favorite wildflowers have blossomed in the backyard wilderness. (I have no idea what they are called. If you know, please tell me!)

With a few more cleanings and chemicals (and the Lord's blessing of some warm weather), we may even be able to swim in the pool soon. Maybe. Or maybe some wonderful person will be so kind as to fall in love with this house, in spite of its imperfections, and open the door for us to move out and move on. And even then, there will be waiting - on paperwork, closings, mortgages, and a new home.

And so we wait, and wonder, and pray for direction. (And I'll admit, I may have prayed once or twice that this is the last time I have to haul out the vacuum 20 minutes before a scheduled showing to ensure that the floors are spotless.) It is hard to wait on God's timing when there is nothing I can do to move things forward, yet I know, both from theory and much experience, that His timing truly is best. While I wait to see where the upcoming weeks and months lead, I can trust that His hand is in everything. My limited vision sees only right now - my current plans, dreams, and desires. I am so incredibly blessed to have a loving, all-knowing Father to guide my steps, even when the only place I'm stepping is past a For Sale sign through the same front door.

In his heart a man plans his course,
but the LORD determines his steps.
Proverbs 16:9

How to Know Your Little Girl is Homeschooled

2011-06-11T22:41:00.001-04:00

(and has older siblings)...

- She turns the pages of Green Eggs and Ham saying, "I do not like eggs. I do not like eggs, Sam-I-Am."

- She "reads" the toddler Bible by quoting lines from her brothers' recent reading assignments: "God made the world. ...But God was there."

- In the middle of a nap, while still mostly asleep, she suddenly calls out, "1-2-3, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-4-5-6-7!"

- You can't get mad at her for dumping out her beans or crackers when she exclaims, "Let's count them!" and immediately proceeds to do so

- She randomly announces, "Today is Monday" (whether it is or not)

- She doesn't want her own toys when she could "play pennies" with the money in the homeschool coin cup

- When the church nursery teacher seats her at the table and places a white paper towel in front of her, she doesn't realize it's for a snack - she thinks it is paper and says, "May I please have a pencil?"

- She would rather draw lines and circles (or "babies" as she calls her attempts at smiley faces) with a pencil than scribble with crayons

- She points to specific words as she flips through books and asks, "What is that word?"

- All of these instances occur before her second birthday

Happy Birthday to my sweet, smart, funny little girl who has been making us smile for two wonderful years!

And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature,
and in favor with God and man.
~ Luke 2:52

How Imaginary Adventures Make Joyful Mothers

2011-05-19T22:54:00.000-04:00

He settles the barren woman in her home

as a happy mother of children.

Praise the Lord!

Psalm 113:9

We went to the beach today.

Nevermind that the weather has been decidedly chilly this month. Clouds, rain, and temperatures below 60 degrees have filled the weather reports every day this week. Certainly, it is not your average beach day weather.

And nevermind that packing up a potty-training toddler, a four (and-now-a-half) year-old with food allergies and asthma, and a certain persnickety six year old for the day is more of a chore than I want to undertake unless absolutely necessary. Though we are blessed to be part of the small percentage of America that lives within easy driving distance of the ocean, the comparatively close proximity of salt water does not mean that spontaneous beach trips are the norm. In fact, any family beach trips at all are unheard of before the mainland temperatures reach at least 80 degrees, and at this rate, we will be lucky if we get a few weeks by August that meet such criteria.

But armed with some books, wooden play food, and three willing companions with great imaginations, I enjoyed the delights of the shore today. We feasted on a picnic lunch of sandwiches, watermelon, brownies, and orange juice (which Lydia spilled, but not to worry - the sand absorbed it!). Donny found a sea anemone and a sea urchin in the tidepool. The boys set up tents by the shore, and after a long day of enjoying the sunshine, we drifted off to the sound of the waves. In fact, Donny and I slept right under the stars, and even sleepy Hayden woke up early enough to watch the sunrise over the ocean. We hated to leave, but eventually, we had to return the picnic supplies to the rental house and get back to regular life.

At least, I had laundry to do. Donny said something about needing to help Bob (you know, the Builder) work on Sunflower Valley. Hayden gave Lydia a ride in the laundry basket. People have responsibilities, you know.

I should mention, lest it be unclear, that our "real life" days here are far from idyllic. There are five sinful people here 24 hours a day, which means that impatience, anger, selfishness, complaining, and the occasional piercing scream are all an unfortunate part of our everyday life. Thankfully, God gracefully gives us occasional moments - brief though they may be - where the children stop fighting and the parents stop reprimanding and we can all just enjoy an imaginary day at the beach.

And I confess, the days are seldom when I put off the laundry and the toddler's nap for a few extra minutes just to spend time being fully engaged with my children. I feed them, bathe them, teach them, train them, and clean up after them all day long. At the end of the day, there is little time or even desire left to sit down and just play with them. But by neglecting to enjoy my children, I am missing out on a great blessing. Yes, caring for their needs is accompanied by blessing as well, but in getting to know them at their level and creating memories (even pretend ones) with them, it is easier to find the joy in motherhood. Sometimes I realize that I have checked off all my obligations for the day, but never really took time to enjoy my children. They need me to smile at them and laugh with them and occasionally munch on some painted wood watermelon with them while sitting on a tablecloth on the floor.

In fact, as I imagined myself asleep on the beach, with Lydia climbing on my head and Hayden curled up beside me, with Donny talking nonstop, and even the tiniest of flutters reminding me of its presence in my womb, I thanked God for this great blessing: I am never lonely! Quiet moments may be few and far between, sleep may be sacrificed, and cleaning up puddles of milk, oatmeal, and toileting accidents may constitute a large percentage of my day. But I am blessed to always have someone to love and hug and play with. Thank you, Lord, for dreamy days and a growing brood little people to share in the magic. And thank you for reminding me that you have settled me in my home, not just to keep it clean, but to be the playful, caring, exuberantly joyful mother of my children.

Monday Morning Coffee with God

2011-05-08T22:06:00.000-04:00

It was Monday morning. I set my alarm for the first time in weeks, spent some much-needed time with the Lord, and started my sweet husband's coffee before he was even out of bed. I hadn't managed to get up quite early enough to squeeze in the workout I had hoped for, but still, I felt like I was on top of things. The sun was shining, the children were quiet, and the coffee was ready just in time.

Except, when I went to retrieve the steaming cup, I realized that something had gone wrong. Instead of finding the oversized, hand painted (by me!) mug filled with freshly brewed coffee, it was only half full. A few suspicious specks floated along the top, revealing that grounds had somehow snuck into the beverage. Upon further investigation, I discovered the source of the problem: I had forgotten to put in the filter! Here I was thinking I was so ahead of schedule, but instead, I spent fifteen less than agreeable minutes cleaning hot, wet coffee grounds out of every nook and cranny of the coffee maker. Instead of surprising my husband with my forethought, I had to apologize for the delay, dump out the spoiled cup - which turned out to have a thick layer of sludge at the bottom - and start over. So much for being on top of things.

As I reflected on the minor, but annoying, incident, I saw some similarities to my spiritual life. Sometimes I forget to look closely, and I think that things are just humming along smoothly. I assume that I am bearing fruit for God and He is filling my cup to overflowing. Often, it isn't until telltale specks of sin rise to the surface that I realize there is a problem. When I finally allow God to search my heart, the truth is revealed: neglecting to spend regular time with Him leaves me with a thick layer of spiritual sludge. Instead of overflowing with love, joy, goodness, and grace, I am depleted, and sinful thoughts and attitudes begin to taint the living water that God wants to flow through me. Weak and bitter, I have no refreshment to offer to others. I am as useful to God's kingdom as a ruined cup of would-be coffee was to my tired husband on Monday morning.

How thankful am I that the God of grace has promised to renew His mercies every morning! Repentance makes me clean. Time in the Word and prayer renews my spirit and puts my filter in place. Instead of dripping half-full and tainted with grounds, I am filled to overflowing with the goodness - indeed, the greatness! - of God.

Tomorrow morning, I will be sure to put the filter in place before attempting to bless my husband with a welcome cup of coffee. And more importantly, I resolve to rise early enough to spend time with my Lord. In seeking Him, I know I will find the hope and refreshment I need to face the day. The best part of waking up is not, in fact, the particular brand of beverage in my cup, but rather knowing that my merciful God is filling my cup with His great, compassionate, and contagious love.

Yet this I call to mind

and therefore I have hope:

Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,

for his compassions never fail.

They are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.

I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion;

therefore I will wait for him.”

The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,

to the one who seeks him;

it is good to wait quietly

for the salvation of the LORD.

Lamentations 3:21-26

Reflections on Clearwater

2011-05-07T23:55:00.002-04:00

As part of our recent family vacation to Florida, we were privileged to spend nearly two days in Clearwater Beach. The time went by quickly as we enjoyed the warm water, sweet sunshine, and white sand. The boys dug holes, built castles, and collected shells, while Lydia loved playing in the water with Daddy. Exciting findings included a hermit crab, sea sponge, and fossil rock with the print of a scallop shell. We even spent a precious evening on the shore watching the sun set over - or as it appeared, into - the Gulf of Mexico. On Easter Sunday, we celebrated the resurrection of our Savior right on the shore, enjoying the God's amazing creation as we remembered His most precious gift. I wished we could stay longer - and, admittedly, our curiosity did lead us to spend half an hour in discussion with a local real estate agent - but even a brief visit to such a beautiful place was a blessing. I am so thankful for the peaceful moments of reflection and the chance to watch our children discover one small corner of the amazing world God made.

The LORD reigns, let the earth be glad; let the distant shores rejoice.

~ Psalm 97:1

The perfect horizon

Swimming with Daddy

She loves the beach

The water is so clear!

Sunny smiles

Everyone out to sea, enjoying the calm waters

My goofy, sweet, precious gifts from God!

The sun melting into the ocean - what an incredible sight!

Seven Days of Grace for the Weak

2011-04-03T14:49:00.001-04:00

Our mid-March taste of spring was apparently nothing more than a tease, because we had flurries and hail the following week, and - no joke! - a few inches of snow on April 1. In addition, after a blessedly healthy winter, everyone in our family now has a cold, which has only added to the list of daily concerns. In fact, last week was full of appointments and errands, sickness and showings. There were many little challenges, and yet through it all, there were glimpses of God's grace.

It was on Sunday that Lydia woke up with her nose running like a faucet - a faucet that continued to drip for several days, and needed to be chased with a tissue in order to prevent her from leaving a trail of mucous smears through the house. We had a showing right after church, which meant that the house had to be in perfect order before we left. My dear husband obligingly helped me by vacuuming the floors, but in the process, somehow managed to stop the agitator from functioning, effectively crippling our vacuum cleaner. I guess that's what I get for asking for help!

Since we could not go home right away, we tried something that is commonplace for most Americans, but not for our family: visiting a fast food drive-through. While we will occasionally stop to get something for Don, this was the first time that the whole family was part of the operation. Picky Donny had a nutritious lunch of French fries, while the only meat that was safe for allergic Hayden turned out to be some extremely sticky boneless chicken wings drowned in a leaky container of sauce. Despite the potential for disaster (and the lack of feedback from the home buyers) it was a nice afternoon, and I don't think we even left any French fries behind to pollute our vehicle.

Monday morning I took Hayden to a three hour long appointment at the allergist for an egg challenge. The purpose was to see if despite testing positive for egg allergies, he could tolerate small amounts of egg in a baked good. Over the course of three hours, the boy who has never tasted a trace off egg ingredients ate one and a half cookies that I had baked with egg in them. He had no reaction whatsoever, which led to the joyful proclamation: he can eat foods with baked with eggs! While he still has milk and nut allergies to beware of, and omelets are off limits, this will expand his dietary choices in exciting new ways. He was thrilled to be able to eat regular cookies!

Tuesday was an OB appointment to follow up on some minor bleeding I had a few weeks ago. I was not only relieved to know that the baby is alive and well, but it was incredible to see all the tiny features via ultrasound on a 2 1/2 inch long person. I am so thankful for the technology that allows us to have that glimpse into God's amazing Creation - truly He does knit us together in the womb!

Not all of pregnancy has been smooth-sailing; there is the regular first trimester fatigue and nausea to deal with, and in addition, my varicose veins are already showing their ugly selves. Many days this week, I had minor pain in my leg that made me long to get off my feet (a difficult task for busy mothers, as I'm sure you know). Wednesday we went for our weekly chiropractic adjustments, which have been immensely helpful for Hayden's breathing, but thanks to Lydia's cold, he still started to wheeze that evening. After the boys had gone to bed and I was figuring out how to set up Hayden's new humidifer, we got a call for a showing: tomorrow at 10:30am. Any delusions I had of getting to bed early were quickly swept away as I realized that I needed to get to work tidying, baking, and doing something to exterminate the pesky ants that kept crawling though our dining room.

The next morning was our typical pre-showing routine: rushed breakfast, quick clean-ups, putting away anything remotely personal or cluttery, turning on all the lights, and the boys playing Angry Birds on Don's phone to stay out of trouble. I baked some delicious chocolate chip cookies (thanks for the recipe, Di!) and had every crumb, dish, and speck of visible lint cleaned up just in time. The children's rough-housing left Lydia screaming and bleeding just minutes before departure time, but even so, things were (relatively) under control. The boys were in their boots waiting for me by the door when the phone rang: the showing was canceled. Apparently, the Lord wanted my house clean that day! And thanks to the lack of buyers, my sweet husband and I got to enjoy the cookies ourselves. We turned off the lights, put the cookies away, and breathed a mixed sigh of frustration and relief.

Friday is usually my grocery shopping day, but because we were already dressed to go out and snow was in this Friday's forecast, we made our weekly excursion a day early. Grocery shopping with three little ones has become a rather exhausting task which seems to suck up most of the day. That left Friday for homeschool. Did I mention that we are now doing five days of school a week? Since we took a year and a half to do kindergarten, I had planned to use a similar schedule for first grade, so that Donny would complete first grade at the same time his public school counterparts do, and we could have plenty of time for errands and outings with a 2 to 3 day per week school schedule. However, Don recently expressed his desire for the boys to learn as much as possible, and accordingly, we are now doing five days of school in one week instead of two. So far, the boys have not even seemed to notice the adjustment. I am so thankful that they are both eager learners who can master new material quickly!

By Friday, Don and Donny had the cold too, and I had a headache, so we missed our small group meeting of church friends. I ran to the pharmacy to pick up Hayden's nebulizer medication: has hasn't needed it for months, praise God, but this cold triggered his reactive airway disease. I had forgotten that our insurance does not cover the medicine up-front (they reimburse us for a portion of it instead), so the initial bill was for $300! I asked to only get one box instead, cutting the cost down to $154, and meanwhile Don came home from a dentist appointment with a similar bill. Good thing we have insurance!

Lydia apparently napped for far too long while I was running errands, because she was wide awake even past 10pm that night. Don and I finally had to turn out all the lights and lie down with her in bed to convince her that it was bedtime, and even then, she continued to crawl on our heads, ask for her Cheerios and water, and hog my pillow for far longer than I wanted to be awake. Then late in the light, my head still throbbing with a migraine and my legs in a more minor discomfort, Hayden woke up coughing. As I gave him his inhaler and his water and rubbed his back, running through my mind were the words "God's grace." How can I get through this difficult night, with my own tired body in pain and my son struggling for breath? Only by His grace. By His grace Hayden fell to a peaceful sleep, I got back to my own bed, and morning came with the headache pain gone.

Saturday was a day of waiting for Don to finish a work project so that we could enjoy an outing to a maple sugar house. He finally finished in the afternoon, and we were able to complete our field trip in time for a family birthday party in the evening. We enjoyed our time with family despite a few sniffles and sneezes.

When Sunday came again, we were all sick (with the possible exception of Lydia, whose nose has finally dried up), so we stayed home from church. I waited for many minutes to drop off our vacuum cleaner at the repair shop, and thanks to a faded receipt, they almost couldn't find our information in the system. I thank God that we bought the five year warranty (not the three year, as I had thought) and that at the last minute, He allowed me to remember our old phone number, which retrieved our information and assured that the repair would be covered. Thank you, Lord!

And now it is Sunday again. Our house is for sale, everyone is sick, I have no vacuum cleaner for ten days, and a new crop of ants are marching one by one into our home. And yet, there is grace. I sent the coughing, sniffling boys outside to play for a few minutes before dinner, but soon Hayden reappeared at the door.

"A sign of spring!" he exclaimed, holding out to me a small, tired-looking dandelion. Even as bits of Friday's snow clung to the neighbor's lawn and we shivered in the chilly wind, Hayden was right: it was first flower of spring. A sign of hope. A tiny yellow reminder that in spite of each day's trials and challenges, there is grace. There is a God who takes weak and broken people like you and me and lifts us up out of the muck and mire. I do not need to wallow in today's pain or fear what tomorrow may bring. He will hold my hand, and each new day, if I have eyes to see it, there is evidence of His overwhelming grace.

For I am the LORD your God
who takes hold of your right hand
and says to you, Do not fear;
I will help you.

Isaiah 41:10

Number Three at Almost Two

2011-03-22T22:12:00.010-04:00

While most of my mental energy has been consumed lately with house-related thoughts, there are moments when I am able to step back and enjoy the blessings of the moment. Many of these moments have been spent laughing at my sweet, dramatic, hilarious little girl. Lydia is now 21 months old, her language develops every day, and along with it, her enchanting personality shines through.

Modeling her brother's "gas"

She is sweetly affectionate, always ready to give Mumma or Daddy a "nice hug," and her random statements of "I luh voo, Mumma" melt my heart. Her verbal affirmations certainly have a feminine touch, as evidenced last Friday, when I woke her up from a sound sleep after I had showered and dressed. After blinking her eyes a few times to get her bearings, she said, "I like skirt, Mumma!" She also likes hair - Mumma's hair, Daddy's hair, her brothers' hair, and finally her own wild locks. When, a month or two ago, her hair finally grew long enough for some sort of clip, she cried whenever I tried to do anything with it. Now that we have convinced her that it's "pretty," though, she'll agreeably let me gather her stray wisps into a tiny ponytail.

Without challenge, she is my best eater. Donny is a self-made vegetarian who likes all his foods separate; Hayden is allergic to milk, eggs, and nuts. I am so thankful that Lydia will try almost anything, from soups to chili with rice to pizza (though she picks off the cheese and leaves the rest behind!). She doesn't seem to care for most meat or some vegetables, but her willingness to try new things and her steady appetite are encouraging. She loves apples, pretzels, crackers, cheese, and to wash it all down, a few sips of cow's milk in her "milk-puck." I give her a regular plastic cup with just a tiny bit in it, and most of the time, she heeds my "don't spill" command. She is also quite skilled in handling a small fork, and will cheerfully feed herself yogurt with a spoon even if only half of it actually makes it to her mouth. And I am amazed at her correct grasp of a pencil or pen; she already loves to (attempt to) write and color.

If we were not selling our house, I would have plunged into full-fledged potty training, but knowing that we could have a showing any day, I didn't think this was the time to risk accidents on the carpet or couch. Still, Lyddie goes on her Little Potty several times throughout the day, and always wants to read a book while she is there. One of her first long sentences was, "Read-Night-Moon-Mumma?" And obligingly, I read Goodnight Moon at every potty break, every day, until the tattered board book finally ended up in the office instead of the bathroom stepstool. If I am going to read the same children's book five times a day, I am thankful that at least it is one of my favorites!

Another sentence that impressed me just two weeks ago was "I can't-open-closet." She was trying to put something away, I'm sure. She is a cheerful and willing helper, eager to deliver laundry or wipe down the table with a rag and "More spray?" I love how tidy she is: one day she spontaneously brought me the plates her brothers had forgotten to clear from breakfast, then pushed all the chairs in to the table and announced, "There, all better!"

Since then, the sentences are spilling out as fast as she can muster them. She runs around and crashes into things, and I tell her, "You're insane!" "I not-insane-Mumma!" she responds with glee. Even when I had to discipline her for disobedience today, through her choked cries she remembered, "Daddy tol' me all done cryin'" and plaintively confessed, "Mumma, I sad."

A dramatic moment

And she loves to pray, always reminding us if we forget to say grace before a meal. Last Wednesday, after reading Bible with the family (and climbing on everyone through the reading), she wanted to pray herself: "More Dear God?" She mentioned Donny, Hayden, and Daddy, so we thanked God for all of them, and randomly (but apparently important to Lydia), for the window. She added in a few lines of babble unintelligible to me, but I trust that the Lord knew what she was saying to Him. Sweet Lyddie, I am so thankful to have you as a daughter, and I pray that your heart will always be as tender and prayerful as it is today!

From the lips of children and infants
you have ordained praise...
Psalm 8:2a

Festive Flowers and Other Bits O' Green

2011-03-17T21:42:00.048-04:00

For this week's Exploration Day, I chose a fun science experiment that combined our study of water with the arrival of spring and even St. Patrick's Day. I trimmed some white mums from my potted plant and put them in three different containers. We filled one glass with clear water, one with water tinted yellow (using food coloring), and one dark green water. After a day, we could easily see where the water went into the flower petals!

It was perfectly fitting on this St. Patrick's Day that it was also our first day of spring-like weather. The children and I were able to venture outside - which reminded me of a similar day last March - and for the first time, tiny bits of green were poking through all that was brown and dead! We caught glimpses of daffodil leaves sprouting up beside the driveway, and there were even some other signs of life:

I have to wonder if, when we live somewhere that's always warm and sunny, we will have such an appreciation for the new season. It is the cold and drafty days of winter, the drab brown and white landscape, and the darkness that make us appreciate the warmth and light and colors of spring. The promise that spring is around the corner gets us through the dreary gray days of late winter, knowing that life will soon return to the frozen ground. Since it is possible that this may be our family's last March in New England, I hope to soak up as much of the joy of the season as I can, relishing God's faithfulness in delivering us from darkness year after year. From festive flowers to creeping bugs, what a wonder it is to see the Creator's handiwork begin anew in spring!

All the trees of the forest will know

that I the LORD bring down the tall tree

and make the low tree grow tall.

I dry up the green tree and make the dry tree flourish.

“‘I the LORD have spoken, and I will do it.’”

Ezekiel 17:24

Some Fun Questions - Thoughts of Spring Blog Party

2011-03-05T22:02:00.000-05:00

Hello friends and visitors! Today I am participating in the Thoughts of Spring Blog Party hosted by Lynnette at Dancing Barefoot on Weathered Ground. I thought it would be a fun way to meet some other bloggers while giving my faithful reader(s) some further glimpses into my personality.

To those who are visiting, I am Manda, wife of Don, full-time homemaker and homeschooling mom. Don works from home, so our little family is together pretty much all the time. We welcome as many children as God wants to bless us with, which so far has been Donny (6), Hayden (4), Lydia (she'll be 2 in June), and (as I wordlessly announced in my last post) one on the way! We are expecting Baby#4 in October, and hoping to relocate before that. Don and I are lifelong New Englanders who are ready to get away from the snow and live in an area where we can afford to house our growing family. I have not had much time for blogging lately, especially now that we are getting ready to sell our home, but I love sharing our little adventures and life lessons through writing. My blog is named after one of my favorite verses, Isaiah 40:11, which reminds me that in every step of this parenting journey, my God will gently guide me, and that no matter how often I fail, He holds me close to His heart - what a comforting promise!

Here in New England, the closest thing we have to spring right now are the ugly patches of pine needles showing between the dirty snow piles. We got a record amount of snow this year, so despite some "warm" (a.k.a. above freezing) days, there are still ample snowbanks dotting the brownish landscape. Hopefully in a few weeks, we will see some flowers peeking through (and Don and I will plenty of work to do making our messy yard presentable for the real estate market). In the meantime, here are some of the questions from Lynnette's suggested interview to help you get to know me a little better. Thanks for reading!

How would people describe your personality? (If they could only use ONE word.) Are they right?
I guess it would depend who is describing me. My husband says, "meticulous." I think that's an accurate description, but not the top word I'd choose.

What are your favorite animals?
Tigers, tortoises, pandas, cows, horses, and the fascinating duck-billed platypus

Movies: Action, Drama, Romantic Comedy, Documentary, Comedy? What are your favorite genres?
I'm not a big movie watcher. I like romantic comedies and some documentaries.

Books: Fiction, Non-Fiction, Romance, Biographies, True Stories, Self-Help, Devotional/Study? What are your favorite types of reading material?
I never read fiction, even though I was a huge reader growing up. When I read now, it's for my own education - books about parenting, marriage, Christian living, the Bible, or how to do something (gardening, homebuying, etc.). I also love reading Above Rubies magazine - it is such a great encouragement for mothers and homemakers!

Music: Funk, Rock, Country, Jazz, Classical, Film Score, Blues, Classic Rock, Crooner, Alternative, Heavy Metal, Techno? What are your favorite types?
Music affects my mood a lot, so normally I only listen to praise music. I need lyrics that help me focus on God.

What is your comfort food/drink?
In winter, tea with milk and honey to drink; homemade cookies or pie to eat. In summer, I much prefer ice cream! Hot buttered toast is always nice, too - especially for slightly queasy pregnant bellies.

If money wasn’t a factor, what stores would you shop in?
I would grocery shop at Whole Foods, buy household things from Target, and order clothing and other special items from moms who make them. I would love to have custom made clothes!

What is your greatest fear or strange phobia?
I think that drugs - whether illegal or prescription - and all their potential side effects are pretty scary.

Be brave – tell us something very random and weird about yourself.
I used cloth diapers with all my babies and love them. With Lydia, I also did infant potty training (or elimination communication), which means that I have been putting her on the potty since she was 2 weeks old. If I could be just a little more consistent, I think she'd be fully potty trained by now at 21 months. It definitely makes more sense to me now than training a baby to go in her diaper and then expecting her to magically want to stay dry once she reaches a certain age.

If you inherited a million dollars, what is the first thing you would do with your money?
Don and I would have to decide together, but we would probably buy a house we love and can live in forever, help our families, and add to our family through adoption. First, though, we would put most of it into savings so that we could live off the interest.

Name one weakness of yours (confession is good for the soul).
I set all my clocks 10 minutes fast, but I am still late a lot. At least now I am three minutes late instead of thirteen minutes late, but still, I wish I could be more punctual.

If you could live anywhere at all (and take all your loved ones with you), where would you go?
Arizona! Don and I both love the climate, politics, and cost of living in the Phoenix area, which is why we are looking to move there. We can't take ALL of our loved ones, but I think many of them will be joining us once we get settled. Our second choice would be Texas, somewhere outside Dallas/Fort Worth. Arizona won out because of the complete lack of humidity, tree-borne allergens, and time zone. Speaking of which, Arizona doesn't do Daylight Sayings Time, which I think is awesome!

Strange Talent? Can you juggle basketballs, put your legs behind your head or perform some other strange feat?
I can curl the corners of my tongue in so it looks like a flower. And no, I will not be demonstrating this talent for anyone other than my lucky family.

What’s something you consider yourself to be good at? (Don’t worry, it’s not bragging, it’s acknowledging a God given gift).
Writing and organizing things

Do you have a strong desire to do something you’ve never done? What is it?
Moving faraway to a warm, desert-like state is high on the list for the immediate future, but in a few years, Don and I would love to adopt.

What is one of your favorite things to catch a whiff of?
I love the smell of most babies' heads.

When you leave a social gathering, do you wish: You would have talked more or You would have talked less?
I guess I wish I had talked more. Really, I usually wish I had said something specifically kind/funny/conversational that occurred to me after the gathering but not during.

Are you a hopeless romantic?
No, my dear but very un-romantic husband drove that tendency out of me several years ago. ;)

What is your greatest accomplishment?
Staying married to my hopelessly unromantic husband for seven years and raising a family with him - which is really God's accomplishment, not mine!

Thanks for stopping by! If you haven't already, feel free to join in with your own interesting quirks and happy thoughts of spring!

Wordless Wednesday: This Year

2011-03-02T06:00:00.001-05:00

He will love you and bless you

and increase your numbers.

He will bless the fruit of your womb...

Deuteronomy 7:13a

Seeing Through the Glass

2011-02-19T22:19:00.003-05:00

It may seem silly, but I am truly thankful to God for contact lenses. Since I got my first pair at age 13 (for softball, supposedly, though that was my last season participating in anything that resembled a sport), I have never been seen in public sporting the four-eyed look. In fact, I have not bothered to even own a backup pair of glasses for the last decade; I just put my "eyes" in as soon as I get up, and take them out right before bed. This system was working wonderfully until I got an eye infection last winter and had to spend a weekend in relative blindness. Since then, I have realized that despite my distaste for spectacles, there may be some wisdom in owning a properly prescribed pair.

It took me until summer to see an eye doctor for a prescription and until New Year's to look into filling it, but it is finally done. I bookmarked Zenni Optical after reading about their incredibly affordable glasses on another blog, and I am so glad that I did! Not only are their prices unbeatable, but they even have software on the website so that you can upload a picture of yourself and "try on" hundreds of frames. Don and I each spent an hour or so narrowing down our choice of frames based on size, shape, color, and cost. Don didn't believe me at first that the $12 to $15 price tags were for more than the frames, but when we realized that the low prices also include lenses, a plastic case, and a cleaning cloth, we decided that we would each get two pairs! At that price, in case one pair didn't fit properly or look as fantastic as it did in the virtual fitting room, it was worth ordering a second. And believe it or not, we had four pairs of brand new prescription glasses to shipped to us for only $50!

After a couple weeks of waiting, our glasses finally arrived. Amazingly, all four pairs fit and seem to be just as high quality as the hundred-dollar ones we could get at the mall. Besides the fact that I don't find glasses particularly flattering, it was a strange feeling for me to put them on after all these years. Goodbye, peripheral vision; hello, motion sickness. The sensation that the world is moving up and down as I walk looking through the lenses is a bit unsettling for someone who normally forgets that she lacks 20/20 vision. Contacts are like a correction for my eyes; glasses are a foreign piece of hardware. Still, I am thankful to have acquired such useful (and relatively stylish) hardware for so little cost!

And how much more thankful am I that though my flesh may fail and my eyes are weak, my God is unfailing and His vision is perfect. Without contacts, glasses, or any help from me, He watches over all His creation, and gives good gifts to His children where He sees fit.

The eyes of the LORD are everywhere,

keeping watch on the wicked and the good.

Proverbs 15:3

For Love of the Self

2011-02-05T22:34:00.001-05:00

One night a few weeks ago, everyone went to bed early. I was left with a quiet house, a Bible, and the Bible study homework that had been gathering dust for a few months. As I snuggled up on a comfy chair, resisting the urge to grab popcorn and a cup of tea (I'm trying not to eat right before bed, which is a very difficult habit for me to drop!), I found myself once again remembering how much I love God's Word. And how convicting it is. In fact, I thought I was doing pretty well, which is simply evidence that I haven't recently been in the Word enough. When we really examine God's standards, we see how far short we fall - and how overwhelming His grace is for Him to give everything for such ungrateful, imperfect creatures.

Today's moment of conviction was tucked inside one of the most familiar passages in my mind: 1 Corinthians 13, the famous "love" passage. I have reflected on "love is patient, love is kind" before, but looking ahead to verse 5, I stumbled upon these provocative words: [love] is not self-seeking. "Self"...that must mean me. Love is not me-seeking. Love doesn't seek MY good. If I love God, I'm seeking HIM. I am seeking His glory. That doesn't leave room to look out for my own interests, preferences, and ideas. It doesn't leave room for my vain thoughts and selfish frustrations and woeful disappointments with the fellow humans in my life.

As I reread those lines, a fleshly little voice whispers in velvet undertones, "That's too hard. Put others first? Sure. But that doesn't mean you have to make their breakfast first. You don't have to smile when your toddler keeps waking up and you're lucky to eek out a broken six hours of sleep. Get your rest, your workout, your shower, your cup of tea, and your favorite slippers. Then you can think about changing wet sheets or convincing your husband to take out the trash. Do it when it's convenient...for YOU."

Isn't that what our society is all about? Me first? "You deserve it" is the spoken or unspoken message of most commercials. "You're worth it." "You've earned it." None of the voices of pop culture are saying, "Actually, you're worth nothing, you've earned nothing, and you deserve Hell." Only the voices of truth dare to admit such harsh statements that throw our teacups and slippers for a loop.

I love the Amplified Bible's extension of this verse:

Love (God's love in us) does not insist on its own rights or its own way, for it is not self-seeking...

Not my love, but God's love in me. Not my rights, but doing what is right. Not my way, but God's way. It all sounds simple and cliche, yet when the velvety voice points out the specifics, I realize how often I seek my own interests, my own comfort, and my own way. To really change is going to take more than my will-power. I may be able to refuse a late-night snack, but I can't stand strong against the subtle temptations of selfishness on my own. "God's love in us" - that is what calms the angry, inspires the lazy, convicts the indulgent, persuades the stubborn, and drives out the selfish. The only way to stop insisting on my own rights and my own way is to fill every recess of my mind with Him. Dear Jesus, save me from the trap of always seeking my own good. In the very details of my everyday life at home, let me surrender my rights and desires to Your perfect and holy Will. Show what it really means to love You more than I love myself.

Looking Back

2011-02-01T23:01:00.001-05:00

To my bloggy friends and readers, I do not pretend to have the time to be consistent in blogging, but I do hope to at least get back to periodic updates on our family happenings and occasional musings on daily life as a lamb in His arms. For those who may have missed it, here is our our annual family newletter sent to family and friends at the conclusion of 2010. Hopefully, I will be able to update again soon! ~ Manda

Dear friends and family,

Merry Christmas 2010! We hope that this holiday season finds you in good health and good cheer. Despite being the only year of our marriage when we neither moved nor had a new baby, 2010 has been a busy year for our family. God has blessed Don with a few new career opportunities, including the day job he started this summer. He is still programming for hospital software, but his new job is 100 percent telecommuting, so he gets to do it all from home! Don is thankful not to have to battle Boston traffic anymore, and the children love having Daddy around all the time.

In addition, Don completed his certification early this year to become a NASM Personal Trainer, and in April he opened his own personal training business. His most recent endeavor has been teaching a 12 week fitness course that he designed to teach adults how and why to work out. After this success of the first Fitness Challenge, he is planning to teach the same course at other local places of business.

When he isn't working, Don's biggest hobby this year has been guns. We purchased our first handgun at the Kittery Trading Post, and a membership to the local Fish and Game Club has allowed us to have many shooting dates. Don also went hunting for the first time, and while he didn't see any deer, he did get a coyote! Besides shooting and working out, we have enjoyed many church and family activities, trips to the zoo and aquarium, visits to the beach, the fair, minigolf, and summer days at the lake. In late summer, Don and Manda even swam all the way across Rock Pond! We also transitioned from helping with the teen youth group to leading a Bible study in our home for the college-age young adults at our church.

Hayden is now four years old while Donny just turned six. Donny lost his first two teeth this fall after his adult teeth had already come in – he had a few extras for a while! The boys' days are busy with helping Mumma (they now unload the dishwasher together without any help!), imaginative play (Legos and their stuffed animals are favorites), inventing their own craft projects, and homeschooling. Just this month, we finished Kindergarten, and we plan to start My Father's World First Grade in January. They are both very curious and intelligent, and it has been amazing to hear them recite Bible verses, watch them sound out words, and answer their questions about science and geography. If you visit our home, be prepared to hear all about their latest Lego creations: most of Hayden's creations are guns, jets, or rocket ships, while Donny builds intricate buildings, vehicles, and other machinery that usually require ample explanation. Donny is considering a future career as a scientist or model builder; Hayden says he wants to be a dad.

Lydia has blossomed into a spirited, entertaining one and a half year old. Like many toddlers, she could live on apples and Cheerios, her favorite word of the moment is "no," and she can charm her way out of trouble with her smile. She loves books, balls, babies (her term for dolls, stuffed animals, and pretty much any inanimate object with a face!), being silly, and playing with her brothers, Donny and "Hay-da." She is an eager helper, ready to grab a rag to wipe the table or put laundry away – though her idea of "away" is to throw everything into the bathroom closet!

People sometimes ask us, "How do you do it?" and the answer is simply, by God's grace. He gives us wisdom to raise our children, and as we seek to know Him better, He blesses us with joy and peace. We pray that you will have the same hope in the Savior during this Christmas season!

With love,

Don, Manda, Donny, Hayden, and Lydia

For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people. It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope—the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good. ~ Titus 2:11-14

Lazy Lake Days (And Late Pictures)

2010-09-30T23:01:00.006-04:00

It was a beautiful summer.

And yes, I realize that by the time I am finally getting these words into print, summer is well over. As the welcome cooler weather has settled in, watermelon and salad have been replaced with apples and oatmeal as weekly staples in our home. It is nice - though almost eerily quiet - to sleep through the night on jersey sheets without the hum of the window air conditioning unit in the background. As someone who loves wearing socks and hoodies, and snuggling under blankets, I am inwardly delighted with the drop in temperature. Still, I would be remiss if I neglected to blog - however overdue - about our lazy lake days of summer.

Unlike last summer's six weeks of rain, this year was full of bright, sunny days, and not so many hot streaks as to be unbearable (though the humidity made me very thankful to at least have AC in the bedroom!).

Our June was sprinkled with activity, such as our strawberry picking field trip (an adventure that I don't care to repeat - in the future, I will bring additional adults or leave the children at home, or more likely, just buy my strawberries at the store!)

Don and I went hiked a small mountain with the teens from church, and our sweet Lydia experienced her first birthday.

In July the fun began with Lydia's first trip to the beach and then to the lake shore. It turns out that she loves both the sand and the water!

At the beginning of the summer, she was perfectly content to sit by edge of the pond and splash in the water, but by late August, she was determined to swim! She was fearless in her attempts to crawl straight into the middle of the pond, and refused to admit defeat until I was forced to pull her up, sputtering, from the neck-deep water!

The boys loved playing at Grammy's, too. They made friends with Henry, the elderly neighbor, caught frogs and snails, and went for paddle boat rides. Donny occasionally ventured into the water, but mostly preferred the shore, while Hayden loves to swim. With the swim bubble belts my mother-in-law bought them, both boys learned to do a decent doggie paddle in the pool, too!

Don missed out on our weekday fun while he was busy working, but he couldn't complain - he started a new job at the end of June that is 100 percent telecommuting. Now instead of battling traffic for 45 minutes or more each way, he just has to roll out of bed, walk into the office, and turn on his computer! Having him home has been an adjustment, but it is certainly a blessing.

As for me, I am very much a homebody, but if I have to be away from my own abode, I think my favorite place would be my mom's house. Besides the comfort of feeling "at home" and welcome to rummage the cupboards in search of snacks, there is something wonderfully peaceful about being at the lake. This lake is actually a pond too small for motorboats, to my husband's chagrin, but my delight. Without the threat of being plowed over by a speedboat, I was able to swim straight out across the middle of the pond, slowly and steadily making my path through the still water. Each week, while Lydia napped on a blanket and the boys played with Grammy on the shore, I worked on swimming a little farther before I turned around. My goal was to make it across the 1/2 mile pond and back by the end of summer, and with my slow rate of swimming, it was a somewhat daunting task.

At the same time, my relaxed pace also enabled me to thoroughly enjoy my swims. Practically having the pond to myself, I was free to pray or let my mind wander as I enjoyed the surroundings. Sometimes there were ducks in the distance. Once I swam out towards a neighbor's house to look into the eyes of a blue heron. As I floated on my back, I watched a hawk circling above me. And once, I was confused by the strange buoy I saw just a few yards away from me, until I realized that it was a snapping turtle!

Near the end of August, on a drizzly Sunday afternoon, Don and I did it: we swam all the way to the other side and back. I was stiff-necked and chilled, but very thankful for my husband's patience (since he could have done the swim alone in a fraction of the time) and excited to accomplish my goal!

It has taken a month now to finish composing this post, so although more could be said about this summer, I will conclude it here: watching the sun set over the harbor, as we did from the car window after one of our beach trips, and pondering the greatness of the God who made it all.

He alone stretches out the heavens and treads on the waves of the sea.
Job 9:8

Great (and Small) Things He Has Done

2010-09-04T23:03:00.008-04:00

God has done great things, but sometimes it takes the small things to remind me how great He really is.

I don't believe in coincidence; I believe God is Sovereign over every detail of this universe, including those that seem mysterious or random to our limited human understanding. When I find myself stumbling upon the same Bible verse in various places, or reading about the same subject in different books and blogs and magazine articles, I think it is more than random chance. I see it as God getting my attention through the small things, to make sure I really understand what He is trying to teach me.

Don and I experienced this just a few weeks ago, when he was given the opportunity to preach at an afternoon church service. He was inspired by Psalm 150 to prepare his sermon, "A Proper Response to God," on how God wants us to joyfully praise Him. When it was nearly time to deliver the message about David dancing before the Lord, Don felt uncertain, wondering if he really was interpreting the Scripture correctly. He had been plagued by a pulled muscle for a few days leading up to Sunday morning, and he wondered if it was God trying to tell him something about the sermon. But then, when the morning service ended and we picked the boys up from their Children's Church class, they were shaking paper plate tambourines. The papers they had colored showed David praising the Lord with music. In fact, their lesson was on the very same event that Don was planning to preach about! The back of the paper even had a verse from Psalm 150. When I noticed that, it nearly brought tears to my eyes. God was so good to give us such clear reassurance!

Then this week, as the children and I enjoyed our last summer days and started to gently transition back towards a more structured school year schedule, the Lord has shown me the same Bible verse three times. First, he convicted me that instead of spending every nursing moment in front of the laptop, I should use the times when the boys are awake to read with them, just like I used to read board books to Donny in the early days of nursing Hayden. Accordingly, during Monday's first nursing session, we read a chapter from Hymns for a Kid's Heart, a really interesting book about the stories behind famous hymns - it even comes with a CD of children singing the hymns that we all enjoy listening to. Each chapter includes "A Verse for My Heart," so after learning about "To God Be the Glory," we read:

The Lord has done great things for us; we are glad. -Psalm 126:3

It is such a simple verse, yet so profound. God HAS done great things for us! And we read about some more of those great things on our "Worldwide Wednesday," when I flipped to a fitting article in Donny's magazine. The article was about some orphans in Kenya who had gone to live in a place called Sanctuary of Hope. At their new home, they have brothers and sisters, and they learn verses and songs about God. Splashed across the magazine page in bold letters was Psalm 126:3, this time from the NIV:

The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy.

I pointed out to Donny that we had just read the same verse in a different translation. Then tonight, I had written all of one line of a new blog post, when I decided to do a search for something on my website. The first post to pop up in my search was a summary of last year, concluding with, once again, Psalm 126:3. By now, I have the words memorized!

The Lord has done great things for me, for my marriage, and my family. He has done great things for orphans in Kenya and for a blind girl who wrote thousands of praise hymns. He has done great things for all of us, because He IS great, and His love is greater than we can understand. As I meditate on it, like the Psalmist, my heart is filled with joy. I love when He speaks to me through the small things.

Thank you Lord, for being greater than coincidence and more than chance. Thank you for the great things you have done. Thank you for encouraging me tonight. May I always be glad and filled with joy because of YOU!

A Heart and a Schedule for Everyday Ministries

2010-08-25T22:39:00.011-04:00

Recently, the Lord has laid a burden on my heart for people. Specifically, the burden is for missions and ministry, to encourage and pray for those involved in doing God's work, to contribute my own resources toward helping others, and to impress this burden onto my children. Part of my motivation grew from reading about a curriculum called Learn Your Letters, Learn to Serve. Since my boys already know their letters, we love our My Father's World curriculum, and I prefer a more cohesive, unit-based method of study to the disjointed "letter of the week" approach, I decided not to invest in the curriculum kit, but reading about the serving aspect was certainly inspiring. In the free sample lesson, author Laura Coppinger shares how she taught her son letter sounds with service projects: surprising Daddy with Doughnuts, bringing Flowers to Felice, or Making Muffins for the Millers. I love the idea of doing projects, not just for the sake of doing them, but in order to bless others.

As I thought and prayed about this subject, an idea for "Missions Mondays" quickly grew into a week of alliterative themed days to help the children (and me) grow in our faith. Here is the proposed schedule for our upcoming weeks:

Missions Mondays: We will pray for specific missionaries, write notes of encouragement to them (the boys will draw pictures or make cards), learn about the parts of the world where these missionaries are serving, and develop a heart for evangelism.
Teens and Twenties Tuesdays: Since Don and I recently started a College and Career ministry at our church, this will help the boys get involved as they make cards, assemble care packages for college students, and join us in praying for the youth of our church body.
Worldwide Wednesdays: We recently started sponsoring a child through Compassion International, so some Wednesdays we will write to him. Other weeks we will do service projects that benefit the local community, contribute to charity, bake cookies for a neighbor, or find other ways to show compassion to people anywhere in the world.
Thankful Thursdays: To develop a spirit of thankfulness, each child will think of something he is thankful for, write and illustrate it, and add the page to a Thankfulness Notebook. I anticipate that learning about missionaries, lost souls, and people in poverty will help us all become more aware of how very blessed we are!
Fellowship Fridays: We will pray for families at church and find ways to bless our brothers and sisters in Christ with notes of encouragement, small gifts, or acts of service.
Selfless Saturdays: This could also have been "Family Fridays" or "Sibling Saturdays" since the goal is for us to focus on showing love to those in our family. All five of us are guilty of displaying selfishness at home, so spending Saturdays together can easily lead to sibling battles and outbursts of anger. My prayer is that all of us, and the boys especially, will look for ways to bless our family members instead of acting in selfishness.
Sanctuary Sundays: Sunday is our day to gather with other believers and worship God. We don't do "school" on weekends, but I hope to always make time to meet with God, and encourage the children to do the same. Sadly, in the rush of getting out the door to church and other activities, Sundays are often the day when we spend the least amount of time reading His Word!

It is only Wednesday, but so far the boys, and five year old Donny especially, have been enthusiastically receptive to our Days. They love to make birthday, holiday, or "just because" cards for people, so encouraging others with some unexpected mail naturally resonates with them. Earlier this week, they drew pictures and helped me write a note to a missionary family that we met last spring, and painted watercolor paintings to decorate the dorm of a college friend. Today they eagerly helped me sort through all of our family's shoes to decide what to donate to Shoes 2 Share. We just read in Donny's magazine yesterday about the Clubhouse Jr. challenge, and we are all excited to add our contributions to the thousands of shoes already collected for children in Haiti and other parts of the world!

I am not sure how many projects we will be able to fit in once we get back to our regular homeschooling schedule on Labor Day, but I hope and pray that we continue to make service a priority in our home education. I am confident that our themed days will give us the structure and enthusiasm we need to keep joyfully serving the Lord!

Lord willing, with continued prayer and diligence, a schedule for everyday ministries Works for Me!

One Day, Three Emergencies, Five Lessons

2010-08-06T22:41:00.006-04:00

It was about 10:00pm on Sunday. Don and I were just wrapping up the second meeting of our new weekly College and Career Bible Study, when we realized that the faint noise in the background was one of our boys crying. I went into their room to find Donny in great distress, and though he opened his eyes, I was knew he was not awake. We have had episodes in the past of Donny crying during the night without fully awakening, but this episode was more intense than usual. I cuddled him, sat him up, brought him into my room and turned the light on, and rocked him, but he was completely inconsolable. He continued to cry, occasionally scream, and would say a few words like, "I need" (without finishing the thought) and "Ow!" (but would not answer when I asked what hurt). I left him on my bed and sent Don in to see if he could help. I guess Donny indicated that his side hurt, which coupled with the screaming, prompted Don to have me call 911. I awkwardly said goodbye to people as I spoke to the dispatcher.

The ambulance arrived quickly, but Donny had already calmed down, and was resting on the bed with Don when the paramedics walked in. When the friendly EMT asked him questions, he responded normally, as though he was finally awake, and the only thing that hurt was his stomach, "a little." There was certainly no indication that he was on the brink of a burst appendix or kidney failure. In fact, he was fine - much to our relief!

A friend suggested the next day that Donny may have been having a night terror, and shared how her daughter had a similar experience (minus the "Ow!" cries). After reading some on the subject, I definitely think that is what Donny was experiencing. Night terrors are characterized by sudden "waking" where the person may open their eyes but does not wake up, and they experience intense fear, screaming, and crying. This would explain, too, why he often cries during the night but never describes any nightmares. Though night terrors can be scary, it is a relief to know that his cries are nothing more than an unconscious reaction to stress and fatigue.

On Monday morning, Donny was happy and healthy, but the ambulance was outside again - this time, parked at the house across the street. The boys watched the trucks intently, and after some time, we finally saw the paramedics carry out Mrs. K., our elderly neighbor, while Mr. K. followed behind. I was suspicious when I noticed that Mr. K. did not arrive home until later that night, and was accompanied by several other cars, but when I saw a large group of people, including Mr. K., exit the house in formal wear on Wednesday afternoon, I was certain: Mrs. K. had died. I found her obituary online to confirm my suspicions; she died at the hospital on Monday. I only met Mrs. K. a few times; they came to our house warming party when we first moved in, but since then our only interactions have been brief hello's at the mailbox, and Mr. K. is usually the one checking the mail. I do not think they are believers, so I welcome prayers for the right words as I draft a sympathy card, that this loss would open Mr. K. and his family to learning the Truth about eternal life in Christ.

But before we knew all this, the ambulance drove away, and we resumed our Monday morning chores. I left the boys folding laundry while I went to quickly vacuum the office, with a brief warning to Hayden as I was walking by that the way he was lying across a chair was not a good idea. A few minutes later, over the noise of the vacuum, Don and I heard sounds of screaming - which sadly, is not an unusual occurrence, since Hayden screams whenever he doesn't like what Donny is doing. I finally turned off the vacuum as Don and I called the boys to come, but no one appeared. We swiftly walked to the dining room, ready to discipline the offending parties, only to find three crying children, the chair Hayden had been lying on tipped over, and his leg wedged between the slats. According to Donny, Hayden had been standing on the chair when it fell, startling Lydia and trapping Hayden's thigh. Don promptly tipped the chair upright and attempted to free Hayden's leg, but it only seemed to become more stuck as Hayden continued to scream. Don quickly found a saw and in a minute (one of those minute-that-feels-like-20), the chair was broken, but Hayden was free.

An investigation revealed a bruise line along his right thigh, so Don set him up on the couch with some ice, and he was excused from laundry folding in order to indulge in a video day. I thought he would be fine in a few hours, but Don wanted to have a doctor check Hayden out, just in case his knee was injured. It turned out that the earliest appointment was at 4:45, and it was only 10:00 in the morning. After straightening out some questions regarding our new medical insurance, Don was advised in the afternoon to take Hayden straight to the hospital for an X-ray. The results were unclear; apparently there was a possible fracture along the growth plate in his thigh. The diagnosis was pronounced: Broken Femur. Sweet Hayden came home an hour later with his leg wrapped in a splint from thigh to toe.

Tuesday was a sitting-down day, but a fun day for the boys, who were showered with gifts of arts and crafts materials as well as a new DVD. (My favorite was the Wikki Stix - what a neat combination of toy and mess-free activity, especially for craft-loving children like mine!) Hayden had to be carried to the bathroom and from couch to couch. We were thankful to get our Thursday appointment with the orthopedic doctor moved to Wednesday morning, and equally thankful to get an appointment with a trusted orthopedic who has worked on Don, his parents, and his sisters in the past!

The orthopedic turned out to be a comical, bow-tie wearing gentleman, but as Don had assured me, he was an excellent doctor. He didn't see any break in the X-ray, and when he unwrapped Hayden's leg to poke and prod him, Hayden didn't even flinch. The doctor told Hayden what a handsome boy he is and had him try walking to Daddy, which he managed with only slight pain. His official diagnosis was not a broken bone, but a Soft Tissue Contortion. I am so thankful that my little boy who loves to run, jump, and swim won't have to spend the rest of the summer in a cast! He spent a day crawling around the house and is now limping slightly, but he seems to be healing properly. There is nothing like a few emergencies to make you appreciate your family's health and mobility!

In fact, our faithful Lord has woven several lessons of varying significance throughout this episode. To summarize:

1) There is a reason to always keep oneself and one's home looking reasonably neat and presentable. You never know when a guest may stop by with a gift, or when three men in uniform will have to race from an ambulance to your bedroom.
2) There is a reason to work out regularly. You never know when you may need to haul 30 to 40 pounds of boy from one end of the house to the other.
3) There is a reason to pray for and reach out to one's neighbors. You never know when they will be gone.
4) There is a reason to listen to one's husband. You never know when he may be right about something. ;)
5) There is a reason to read, study, and meditate on God's Word. As we discussed at our Sunday night study, the Bible tells us to count it all joy when we face trials. We can be excited about our salvation even in the midst of calamity. Our family has been singing Nehemiah 8:10 all week:

The joy of the LORD is my strength!

And He is, indeed, the source of the joy and strength that overcomes pain, suffering, and even death. Thank you, Lord, for your faithfulness, for three healthy children, and for the joy of walking with You each day!

There's No Unless in Marriage

2010-07-01T21:50:00.005-04:00

The cliché truth that has disappointed millions of romantics and provided fodder for dozens of sitcoms is this: people aren't perfect. And since husbands are people, they are not perfect either: not mine, not yours, not your best friend's or your sister's or your neighbor's cousin's husband. And despite what we may have thought in our pre-marriage days, imperfect usually means more than the occasional hair out of place or morning breath or not-really-that-funny joke.

In fact, our husband's "imperfections" can often look to us more like big, ugly flaws. He has bad habits - some merely annoying, like leaving his dirty laundry on the floor, and others outright sinful, like drinking too much. He has addictions. He wastes time or money or our cell phone minutes while he's talking to his college buddies. He's not affectionate enough, or he's all touchy when we want to be left alone. He works too much and is never around when we need him, or he doesn't work hard enough and we don't know how we're going to pay the mortgage. He doesn't take out the trash or change diapers or pray with the children enough. He never says "I love you" first. In fact, sometimes it seems like he doesn't really love us at all.

Good thing there's that handy "unless" clause in the Bible to absolve whatever responsibility we might have to such an unloving creature. You know, where it says, "Wives, submit to your husbands UNLESS he doesn't treat you nicely," and "the wife must respect her husband UNLESS he hasn't earned it." Or maybe something about being submissive unless he wants you to go along with a really dumb idea. Or unless he forgets your birthday and never says "please" and ignores you when he's watching TV. When you find those references in the New Testament, please share them with me, because I can't seem to locate them in my translation.

Honestly, I see two major instructions to wives, and there's no "unless" around them. Ephesians 5:22 says, "Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord." And if you're thinking that simply means, "Submit in matters pertaining to church," read on a few verses: "Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything." I often remind my children that Colossians 3:20 says "Children, obey your parents in everything." Isn't it interesting that I can emphasize the "in everything" in one verse, while glossing over it when I'm suddenly on the other end of the instruction? And then verse 33 reiterates the wife's role by stating that she "must respect her husband."

If a perfect world, with perfect husbands, submission would never be difficult - of course we wives would all be eager to align our actions with the inspiring desires of our ideal mates! But like all of God's commands, obedience has nothing to do with the actions of another person. We are called to submit to husbands who make poor choices, to respect men who aren't always respectable, and to cheerfully go along with ideas that make us cringe. Doesn't that sound beautiful?

Actually, while the vague idea of submission may strike us as noble, the detailed specifics can sound terrifying. And they can be. After all, God gave us preferences and the ability to reason, too. We know better than to let the children have cookies and soda when it's two hours past their bedtime. We would never waste the day playing video games when the lawn needs to be mowed. We wouldn't lend money to the brother who never pays us back or go on vacation with those annoying neighbors or hang that grotesque deer head with antlers anywhere in our house. This is where submission gets tricky. It's not just about major, life-changing decisions. Submission applies to day-to-day choices, too, and respect should govern all of our responses to our husbands - even husbands who don't deserve it.

Of course, there is one exception - if our husbands ask us to do something that is clearly contrary to God's revealed Word, then "we must obey God rather than men" (Acts 5:29). In marriage between two believers, however, the need for this exception is rare. I may not think it's a good idea and I may have plenty of verses to back up my point of view, but often submission means going along with something we'd rather not, and respect means doing it cheerfully, not balking, pouting, or whining the whole way.

If fact, I would go so far as to state that if we truly respect our husbands, we will do our best to cheerfully agree to their ideas long before submission becomes an issue. God has recently convicted me that I tend to submit when it reaches the point of ultimatum - a direct command to do or not to do something - and not before. Do I wait until he insists on getting his way, or do I do everything I can to make him happy? Do I respect his ideas by seeing the good in them, or am I quick to shoot them down with my criticisms? Am I so busy arguing for my own desires and preferences that I ignore his? Do I forget that God has given HIM the responsibility to lead and direct our family, even in the smaller things like what we do on weekends or how we spend our money?

My husband will graciously listen to my opinions on most subjects, but in the end, he is the one who will give account to God for how this family was managed. If the children were hyper or we lost some money or some relatives took offense to our new decor, he will be responsible before God. I will simply answer to my Creator: Did I love, honor, respect, and submit to the husband He gave me, in spite of the said husband's humanness and imperfections and occasionally downright dumb ideas? My sisters in Christ, will we obey God by submitting to our husbands in everything? Or will we keep searching for the Unless?

A Year of Smiles

2010-06-17T13:15:00.026-04:00

Dear Princess Lydia,

It is hard to believe that you are really a year old. Not long ago, you made your long-awaited entrance into the world, and we carried home our first bundle of sweet pink girliness. You spent two months wanting to be held constantly (and crying if we had the audacity to put you down!), but soon developed a beautiful smile that you have been using generously ever since.

With your happy disposition, you have earned the nickname Smiley Face, among others. I call you many variations of your name, including (but not limited to!) Lyddie, Lyddie Bitty, Lyd, Lyds, Lydsey, Lydsey-anna, and Lizard. Until recently, your movement reminded me more of a seal than a lizard, since you moved by pulling with your arms while your body flopped along behind.

You are not walking yet, as your brothers were attempting at this age, but that is just fine with me. I always tell people that I am in no hurry for those milestones, especially the ones that will enable you to make more messes! Yet even though you are a proficient crawler now who can pull up to a stand and climb onto the boys' mattresses, you don't seem to get into too much mischief. Perhaps you are too preoccupied watching your brothers' antics and sampling their abandoned toys to go off in search of trouble.

When I first tried to introduce you to food around eight months of age, you had little interest, and it has increased only slightly since then. At first, you refused to open your mouth for a spoon, and if I managed to sneak something in there, it eventually came back out. From eight to nine months you would gnaw on toast strips, but that was the extent of your food consumption. Now you regularly eat fried egg yolk bits, Cheerios, and apple wedges, and will accept yogurt off a spoon. Most other tidbits of meat, veggies, and breads are tossed on the floor. You have had the same six teeth - four on top and two on bottom - for several months. In recent weeks you have developed an affinity for your sippy cup of water, but nursing is still your primary means of nutrition. You nurse every few hours around the clock, especially to fall asleep. Just last night, you looked at me while nursing and signed "milk" just like I was signing to you. It is so exciting to see you learning to communicate!

You have a crib in our room where you'll briefly repose in the late evening, but you do most of your sleeping on Mumma and Daddy's bed. If a long nursing session doesn't put you to sleep, then snuggling up on Daddy's chest inevitably will. Your bedtime varies, but you wake up sometime between 6:30 and 8am, ready to start another day of discovering the world. When I put you down and you want to be held, you'll cry and bang your forehead on the floor, which has resulted in some bruises. Most of the time, however, you can be distracted with a toy, a song, or if nothing else, I can hold you on my hip while I go about my chores. It is easy to take you anywhere, as you are generally good-natured.

In the past month or so, you have been a bit more wary of strangers, and when passed around at a party you look for Mumma and make "Mmm!" noises to let me know you want to return. You spend much of our time in public snuggled on my front in the Ergo, where you sneak smiles at admirers and then turn away bashfully. You adore your brothers and always perk up when Daddy comes home; in fact, Daddy makes you laugh more than anyone else in the world. Your baby babble can be quite loud at times, while at other times you are quiet and snuggly, or mirthful and silly.

Dear Lyddie, you have made our lives busier, fuller, and so much sweeter. I praise God for giving us this wonderful year! And as you continue to grow, I pray that you will come to know your Creator and to walk in His ways, that your joy may be full.

Here is how you have grown!

With what shall I come before the LORD
and bow down before the exalted God?
Shall I come before him with burnt offerings,
with calves a year old?

Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams,
with ten thousand rivers of oil?
Shall I offer my firstborn for my transgression,
the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?

He has showed you, O man, what is good.
And what does the LORD require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.

~ Micah 6:6-8

The Having of Houses and Heaven-Set Hearts

2010-05-23T22:06:00.015-04:00

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.
Colossions 3:1-2

Two years ago, Don and I very nearly moved to Texas. We ended up declining a less-than-ideal job offer there, and shortly thereafter, we purchased our home here in New England, where all of our close family lives less than twenty minutes away. In the past few weeks, however, some new job prospects have led us to again consider relocating. We have a comfortable home here, surrounded by family, friends, and a wonderful Bible-teaching church. On the other hand, in Texas we could have warm sunshine, a conservative political atmosphere that more closely matches our ideals than liberal New England, and a bigger, better house to shelter our growing family.

People say everything is bigger in Texas, and when it comes to housing, it certainly seems to be true. For the same price we paid for our three-ish bedroom, one bathroom, circa 1960 ranch located an hour outside of Boston, we could have a nearly new four bedroom, three bath, two car garage home in a Dallas subdivision, or we could go outside the city for a similarly large house with five times the land we have here. Southern houses feature such luxuries as standardized central air (oh, how I love air conditioning!), first floor laundry rooms (all old New England houses have the washer and dryer in the basement), master bathrooms with garden tubs, and walk-in closets the size of small bedrooms. And since Don and I love to virtual house hunt, we have looked at literally hundreds of houses, comparing everything from lot size to the depth of the pool, in search of the ideal purchase.

Our lonestar bubble was burst when we realized that our responsibilities and ties in the North would most likely keep us here for the forseeable future. It is hard to let go of the oh-so-affordable brand new log cabin on eight acres, or Don's similarly priced dream home complete with gunite in-ground pool, jacuzzi, fenced yard, double shower in the master bath, and theater room. But beneath the dazzle of new paint and countertops, even the grandest houses are but temporary dwellings, and it is all too easy to allow such temptations to become distractions at best, and at the worst, idols.

Recently, when my children were complaining about their perceived lack of choices at mealtime, I found myself continually saying, "You can have what you have," until it evolved into a song that the children and I were singing all day:

You can have what you have
You can have what you have
And be happy with what God gave you
You can have what you have
And be happy you have it
'Cause it came from the God who made you

As usual, just as I am trying to instill Godly character and virtues in my children, the Holy Spirit nudges me with a reminder that I need to practice what I preach. My unspoken complaints about my home, responsibilities, options, or limitations are as unholy in His sight as my five year old's demands for nothing less than a flawlessly cooked English muffin "with butter, toasted on the 10 setting." Who am I to tell God what kind of house I want, need, or deserve? We are so, so blessed to be able to afford any kind of house, when just two years ago the prospect of home ownership was little more than an elusive dream. How can I be anything but thankful?

Today, our family had the privilege of eating lunch with some traveling missionaries who have been called to Cambodia. Their family includes five children ages 3 months to 6 years old and the wife's sister, who travels with them to help. For the past year that they have been on deputation, all eight family members have been living in a trailer. As I chatted with the husband and wife from my cozy spot on their loveseat, I couldn't help but feel embarrassed over my own greed and selfishness. Here I was longing for a laundry room, when these missionaries can only carry a week's worth of clothing, and have to stop to wash it at someone else's house. Don and I often say how much we would like to have another bathroom, but at least more than one person can fit in our bathroom, and we have continual running water. Details like privacy, personal space, and excess stuff were nonexistent. I have spent so much time lately thinking about furniture and flooring and lot sizes, while they carry only what fits in the trailer as they travel from one church parking lot to the next. Yes, the Lord is always faithful to provide object lessons at the very time that we need them, and He could not have chosen a better time to show me how a family of eight can joyfully serve Him in a 300 square foot trailer.

There is still an honest longing in my heart to start over in a new place, to enjoy warmer winters and cooler summers, and to watch our family grow in a place where we have room to spread out and sustain ourselves to some small degree. Yet greater still is the desire to honor my Father and submit to His Will. It's not about bedrooms or backyards; it's about eternity with Him. For now, He says, "You can have what you have, and be happy you have it." I can thank Him for whatever home be blesses us with on this earth, but the perfect dwelling place is being prepared for me in His eternal Kingdom, and that is where I want to set my heart.

Journal: Mothering Moments

2010-05-12T14:22:00.007-04:00

Monday May 3, 2010
We are learning about elephants! Because they say an elephant never forgets, our Words to Remember are "I will remember what God has done for me." We read some books and watched a video about baby elephants and their families. Lydia is playing peek-a-boo: she puts her hands over her eyes, I say, “Where’s Lyddie?” she pulls them away, I say, “Peek-a-boo!” and she giggles.

Tuesday May 4, 2010
Instead of waiting until afternoon to play outside, I ventured out this morning to enjoy the summer-like weather with my children and two girls I babysit. We also made handprints with paint, which we will use for a craft tomorrow.

Wednesday May 5, 2010
We turned yesterday’s handprints into elephants by adding a few details. I had the children do one set for me as a Mother’s Day gift. I just need to find a frame for my special "hand-made" present!

Thursday May 6, 2010
Lydia has been able move around with her seal-flop crawl for a while, but today she is crawling on all fours! Soon she will be following me all over the house and getting into everything!

Friday May 7, 2010
My friend Liz from church and her two girls came over to visit. We had lunch together and played outside. After they left, the children and I went grocery shopping. Then we went to my inlaws' house to see our Pastor's pictures from his recent trip to Greece and Turkey. It was fascinating to see the ruins of the New Testament cities!

Saturday May 8, 2010
Lydia discovered that she can clap; she watches her hands and laughs with delight when she does it. I spent the day in the kichen (with Lydia on my back in the Ergo) making spaghetti sauce and taco meat for dinners, and lasagna and apple cake for Mother’s Day. Don took the boys to the mall to look for a case for his new smartphone, and to WalMart to pick out a Mother’s Day gift for me. What a thoughtful Daddy!

Sunday May 9, 2010
Nothing says Happy Mother’s Day like waking up to a cold house, no hot water for a shower, and a feverish baby! Apparently we ran out of oil…oops! Still, it was a nice morning. The boys gave me their special gifts, wrapped in Spiderman paper that they picked out. Hayden got me a hummingbird feeder, and Donny chose a hanger so I can mount it on a window. After church, we had Grandma, Grandpa, and Auntie Crystal over for lunch. Then we went to Grammy and Grampy’s for dinner, where the boys played Wii bowling and Don showed off his phone. Lydia still had a fever all day, but she managed to pose for some family photos and her 11 month portrait. I am so blessed to have great mothers in my life, and to be a mother to three wonderful children!

A verse from this week's readings:

"...The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart."
1 Samuel 16:7b

The Tale of the Cow Mug: A Story of Sacrifice

2010-04-10T15:40:00.002-04:00

It is "Good" Friday. Throughout this week's studies of goats, Passover, and the Easter story, one word keeps surfacing as a clear theme: sacrifice. Even the Veggie Tales DVD I selected at the library - "A Lesson in Sharing," which seemed appropriate for the constant squabbles in our home - used the word in the very fitting verse at the end:

Let us not forget to do good, and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased. Hebrews 13:16

The boys excitedly note the use of their new vocab word, and again I find myself trying to explain it in a way that small children can comprehend. Sacrifice, I tell them, is not quite the same as sharing. I attempt to illustrate the difference between sharing a favorite toy and an old unwanted toy. They still aren't quite grasping it, so I explain that God wants our best...not the old mushy grapes from our fruit bowl, not the ones that we were going to throw away anyway; He wants the plumpest, juiciest, most perfect unblemished grapes. Giving away a rotten grape is easy. Throwing away a flawless, delicious piece of fruit that you really want to eat is a sacrifice.

Of course, to almost anyone, a grape is nothing. What we consider a sacrifice is all in our perspective. What would be a sacrifice to you? Giving up an opportunity to sleep in? A vacation? Your TV? (Maybe just one of many TVs?) Your car? Your gym membership? Your career? With all the material abundance our family has been blessed with, it can be challenging to teach our children to truly appreciate their possessions, activities, and relationships. Meal time, in particular, provides ample opportunities for practice. I strive to teach them that it really doesn't matter who gets the yellow napkin and who uses the orange one. They need to say "Thank you" for their not-quite-favorite food instead of complaining that they would rather have something else. And milk, I assure Donny, will taste the same no matter what glass, bottle, or mug it is sipped from. But children, in many ways, are tiny versions of adults, and the selfishness so easily observed in their behavior is just as likely, though perhaps not visibly, to manifest in us.

This winter, my five year old has enjoyed having his milk warmed up at mealtime in a ceramic mug, and one of his favorite mugs is the cow mug. My cow mug, to be exact. In 1999, I received two mugs featuring a print of cows in a field, along with some hot cocoa packets, as a Christmas gift. Since I happened to be big fan of cows, the mugs were lovingly displayed in my bedroom until I got married and added them to my kitchen cupboard. (Don't worry, the hot cocoa was consumed long ago!) They are my favorite mugs, one of which I keep in the back of the cupboard as a spare, of sorts, while the other is my cup of choice for the decaf tea or other warm drinks I periodically enjoy in winter. Since I do all of the drink-pouring in our home, my mug selection has never been in question until recently. Now suddenly, another person is requesting my preferred vessel. And while I constantly remind him that it does not matter which mug I give him, and that he needs to be thankful regardless of the pattern on his cup, I find my own sinful nature hesitant to display such contentment. I reach for the cow mug and claim it for myself whenever I can. And when Donny requests it, I may not burst into tears like my favorite kindergartener, but I reluctantly pour his milk, silently feeling some tiny twinge of resentment that views this completely insignificant act as some kind of sacrifice.

They say that the best way to truly understand a subject is to teach it. And so, I (try to) teach my children gratitude, and contentment, and unselfishness. As I instruct them, I feel the sting of conviction in my own conscience when I desire what I don't have, or hold too tightly to what I do have. Sharing my favorite mug, I must understand, may be difficult because of my selfish nature, but it is not a noteworthy sacrifice. In fact, I should count very little, if anything, that I do for my Lord as a sacrifice. The daily dying to self that makes marriage work and raises healthy children is only my duty as a lowly servant of the King. Whether it means giving up sleep to comfort a sick child or drinking my tea in only my second-favorite mug, no act of love is too much for God to ask of me. It seems ridiculous even to compare it.

If we want to teach our children about sacrifice, we have to look beyond our kitchen table and up at the cross. The Father who gave His one and only Son made the greatest sacrifice in the history of time. Jesus Christ, though He never sinned, willingly gave His life for my selfishness and discontent and every other ugly thing that has ever marred the beauty of His world. That, my children, is sacrifice. May every cross, every lamb, and every mug of warm milk remind us of that precious fact.

Journal: Milking It

2010-03-29T20:52:00.006-04:00

Monday March 22, 2010
It seems like our family just cannot get healthy this winter. We finally got over a month-long cold, and now the boys are throwing up. Donny woke up sick during the night, requiring a few changes of sheets, and Hayden joined in the vomiting fun after nap time. The boys slept a lot of the day while it rained outside. Don and I were supposed to go to a wake for my stepmother's father at night, but because I could not leave the children, Don went by himself.

Tuesday March 23, 2010
The boys have stopped throwing up, but they were very tired and had no appetite today. Lydia is getting two more top teeth (lateral incisors). Don gave notice that he will be leaving his part-time job coaching gymnastics soon to start his personal training business.

Wednesday March 24, 2010
The boys seem better, but now Lydia is throwing up and has a fever. She needed to be held all day. To go with our C-c-Cow unit, we made butter by whipping heavy cream in the Kitchen-Aid mixer. It was interesting to watch the different stages it went through, and Donny and I enjoyed eating it on crackers!

Thursday March 25, 2010
Our friend Bill, a heating and cooling technician, was here all day installing our new boiler. Apparently we caught the stomach bug from his family. Lydia is still sick and needy. I tried making baked oatmeal, and I liked it so much that I ate nearly half the pan in one day!

Friday March 26, 2010
Last week’s beautiful weather was apparently a fluke; earlier this week was rainy, and today the temperature made a drastic drop to the 30’s. Thankfully, everyone was feeling well enough to run errands this morning, but the boys still are not eating much, and Lydia is more clingy than usual. My stomach is starting to hurt, too.

Saturday March 27, 2010
Don ended up getting sick last night and slept all day today. Bill was here most of the day finishing the boiler installation. The boys and I made ice cream by shaking up cream, vanilla, and sugar in a baggie surrounded by ice and salt. It was too bad our ten minutes of vigorous shaking only produced a small quantity, because it was delicious! Hayden was a good sport to help even though he can't have ice cream or any other dairy products. I am also attempting to make yogurt in the crockpot, including a coconut milk version for Hayden. We’ll see how it turns out in the morning!

Sunday March 28, 2010
The attempt at coconut milk yogurt was unsuccessful, which could have been due to keeping the heat too high, or using the wrong kind of probiotic to start it. The cow’s milk yogurt was entirely drinkable, but definitely yogurt in flavor. I will have to try it again using a different incubation method.

Don was at a gymnastics meet all day, and we had decided in advance that I would stay home with the children to avoid sharing our sick germs. It was really nice to have a peaceful Sunday without having to rush off to Sunday School, home from church for a late lunch, then back to church for Youth Group, and home again for a late bedtime. I love our church dearly, but once in a while, a day of actual rest is a blessing!

A verse from this week's readings:
Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. ...
The LORD commanded us to obey all these decrees and to fear the LORD our God, so that we might always prosper and be kept alive, as is the case today. And if we are careful to obey all this law before the LORD our God, as he has commanded us, that will be our righteousness.
Deuteronomy 6:4-7, 24-25

Glory in the Sticks

2010-03-19T21:01:00.001-04:00

But ask the animals, and they will teach you,
or the birds of the air, and they will tell you;
or speak to the earth, and it will teach you,
or let the fish of the sea inform you.
Which of all these does not know
that the hand of the LORD has done this?
Job 12:7-9

This afternoon was an amazing 70 degrees outside, and it was the perfect day for an adventure in our yard. With Lydia in the Ergo, and the boys dressed in their boots, we set out to explore the woods beside our house.

Believe it or not, in the 15 months that we have owned this home, I have never been to that part of our property…and our land is less than an acre! Our side yard is a wooded corner lot, providing just a taste of forest wonders before one meets the road, and until today I never had the simultaneous time, desire, and appropriate weather to investigate it. Today, after a brief lesson on the proper method of carrying a walking stick (so as not to impale one's brother), our first stop was by the edge of the large ditch that still held water from last weekend’s heavy rains. The boys thought it was the perfect spot to go fishing.

They found a “cuttlefish” plastic soda bottle and some “jellyfish” made of pine needle muck. Watching them play at the water’s edge reminded me of my own childhood, when I would explore the woods behind our house, making up all kinds of stories in my imagination as I crossed brooks, gathered sticks, and played beneath spruce trees. When they were done fishing, we investigated some fallen trees – and even a fallen telephone pole – and gathered some nice dry sticks for Daddy to burn in our next campfire. On our way back towards the front yard, we discovered a completely isolated evergreen; amidst young and old pines, and a few maples, was a random Christmas tree!

Before heading inside, we spent some time in our little strip of front yard (the only place where we have anything that resembles grass). I let Lydia loose on the dead grass, and she was both serious and delighted with her first real outdoor encounter.

We saw the mail carrier deliver our mail, and a few neighbors visiting their mailboxes, including Mrs. K., an older lady who lives across the street. In our brief conversation about the beautiful day and how busy I must be with three children, she commented that it’s nice I can be home with them. Watching my baby girl pluck fistfuls of grass and sneak a taste of tree bark, while my boys entertain themselves by banging sticks against the maple tree, I could not agree more.

I am so privileged to have this job of teaching little ones about the world God made for us, witnessing their wonder and delight, and striving to answer their many questions. I am consumed by the great responsibility that their words, their actions, and their attitudes will be shaped by mine. And I realize that my life must be characterized by constant prayer, both in praise for God’s blessings, and in seeking wisdom for the many decisions to be made each day.

I don’t like bugs or dirt or neglecting chores that need to be completed, so I do not often look forward to taking the children outside. But once we are out there, basking in the waning sunshine, I realize how much I love it. There is something so peaceful and simple about interacting with nature, something that no human-created environment can duplicate. In the style of Charlotte Mason, I have a sense that these outdoor adventures are as much a part of the children’s education as any formal lesson. Any inconvenience of getting outside is forgotten when I realize how worthwhile it is to be there.

Raising children is a backyard adventure. There are trails to blaze, hills to climb, and mud puddles to wade through. It takes time away from other activities that we may prefer, but with the right attitude, we find it rewarding. It may not have the glamorous sound of other professions, any more than exploring our yard sounds like swimming the English Channel or hiking through Yellowstone. It is full of things that seem commonplace on the surface: sticks and stones and trees; crawling and reading and baths and laundry. Yet when we take a few moments to examine the pattern of a leaf, to feel the texture of grass or a smooth stone, to discover the brilliant color of a wildflower, we realize that God’s glory is revealed right here in the small things. I may not be feeding orphans in the streets of India or preaching the Gospel to African tribes, but I am here in the yard, doing the work God gave me, and seeing His glory in the sticks and stones and smiles.

Thank you Lord, for blessing me with three willing explorers, and for Your faithful guidance as I help them discover the world.

Journal: Year Seven, Week One

2010-03-08T20:25:00.005-05:00

Monday March 1, 2010
“I’ve worked you over for six years. Now I’ll take a Sabbath year off,” Don teased me this morning. As of sometime between yesterday and today, we have been married for six years. Inspired by our recent reading in Leviticus, we joked about celebrating our 50th anniversary as our Year of Jubilee. I decided that to help me remember our seventh year of marriage, I will write a few sentences every day to record the days’ events, and that I will share some of these entries on my blog to give my readers a glimpse into our lives.

During school time, the children and I finished our W-w-Water unit with watercolor paintings and started our two week I-i-Insect unit. Everyone has been sick a lot this winter, and I definitely have a cold. At bedtime, Don surprised me with an anniversary card under my pillow. (To let you know how unexpected this was, the last anniversary card he gave me was when we had been together for one month!)

Tuesday March 2, 2010
Donny and Hayden painted rocks to look like ladybugs. We took a quick trip to the library to get the rest of our insect books after picking up Hayden’s nebulizer medication at the pharmacy drive-through. (The drive-through is recent discovery which I am very excited about...no more unbuckling three children and dragging them through the store just to pick up a prescription refill!) I made a pot roast for dinner. Then the children watched the library’s “Way Cool Creepy Crawlies” DVD with Daddy. I am reading The Case for a Creator by Lee Strobel. Don is reading Secrets of the Millionaire Mind by T. Harv Eker, a book recommended to him by an old friend from gymnastics who owns a successful personal training business.

Wednesday March 3, 2010
Today our toddler friends Madalyn and Riley came over to play, as they usually do on Tuesday and Wednesday mornings. Lydia sat in her new booster seat that Grandma and Grandpa sent her. I made almond protein bars, which were tasty, but didn't settle well with me. The children, especially Hayden, coughed a lot and had poor appetites most of the day.

Thursday March 4, 2010
We baked bread and caught up on laundry. Donny practiced reading with Lesson 38 in Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons. Hayden wanted to participate too, so I did Lesson 1 with him.

Friday March 5, 2010
It was sunny and nice out today, so for the first time since November, the boys got to play in the front yard after we came home from our weekly grocery shopping trip. I baked Six Layer Bars (substituting crushed pretzels for the graham cracker crumbs, since I didn't have any) and Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies for Grandma’s birthday party tomorrow.

Saturday March 6, 2010
Don and our friend Bill went to get some parts to fix our leaky boiler while I watched Bill’s son Owen. After visiting with them, we went to Grandma and Grandpa’s house to celebrate Grandma and Auntie Crystal’s birthdays. Then Don and I went out to celebrate our anniversary at the firing line. It was my first time shooting a real gun (a Glock 19 that we rented). I had not anticipated how exceedingly loud it would be or how far the shells would fly, but we had a good time. I was excited when, after some practice, I hit the center of the target!

Sunday March 7, 2010
We went to church for Sunday School, but because the children were coughing too much to go in the nursery or sit in the service, we decided to come home during church time. We read fromThe MacArthur Daily Bible, watched “Naaman the Leper” on the Bible Adventures DVD, and sang some songs while Don played the guitar. Don, Donny, and Hayden went to Auntie Shelly and Uncle Nathan’s house to meet their new golden doodle puppy. Then we went back to church for youth ministry. The children stayed with Don and I while we taught the 11th and 12th grade teens in our new small group.

A verse from this week's readings:
"But at the beginning of creation God 'made them male and female.' 'For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.' So they are no longer two, but one. Therefore what God has joined together, let man not separate."
Mark 10:6-9

I praise God for six years of marriage to my amazing husband, and for the blessings the Lord has brought out of our adventure together!

Aquarium Adventures

2010-02-17T20:24:00.006-05:00

For our O-o-Octopus and Ocean unit this month, Don took a day off so that we could go on a family field trip to the New England Aquarium. Our town library offers a coupon pass to defray the cost of admission, and in order to avoid the $30+ Boston parking fee, we decided to make it a real adventure and take the train into the city. Boston's "T" is far from a glamorous way to travel, but besides being cheap (children ride for free!), the boys were excited about their first ride on a subway train that travels, as Hayden put it, "down into the dirt."

The adventure began with a drive, a long walk, a subway ride, switching trains for a short subway ride, several elevators, and a short walk through the cold winter air - all with three small children in tow, of course. We planned to arrive at the aquarium, eat lunch, see all the ocean creatures, and then ride the train back to our van in order to get home before the boys' bedtime. Don had thoughtfully remembered to bring some T tokens leftover from our pre-children days, but we discovered that the fare system had been updated and automated, and in our confusion, we ended up paying for the days' travels, and exchanging our tokens for a slip of paper worth a few more fares. It was after all this, as we entered the aquarium, when I realized that the lunchbox I had painstakingly packed with neatly labeled sandwiches, snacks, and beverages was not in the stroller as I had intended it to be; it was still in the van, which was now several miles and a few subway rides away.

During the ride to the train station, I had debated whether or not to eat my sandwich in the van, and now I was very glad I had decided to do so! I was worried about the boys, who had not eaten since breakfast, and Don and I would have even considered purchasing overpriced food from the museum cafe (something we would only consider under extenuating circumstances!), but just as we went in, a voice over the loudspeaker announced that the cafe would be closing. We decided to keep the boys distracted with all the fascinating creatures, and for the most part, it worked!

The aquarium visit was certainly a perfect conclusion to our ocean study. Although we did not get a good look at the octopus (he was huddled in the corner of his tank, with only a few tentacles in view), we did enjoy seeing a shark, moray eel, sea turtle, and tons of fish in the huge central tank. Other attractions included a jellyfish exhibit and an electric eel, just like the one we saw on our Moody Classics Experience with an Eel DVD.

The aquarium also features a hands-on tidepool area where children (and adults) can touch a sea star, mussels, and even hermit crabs. I vaguely remember visiting this exhibit in my own childhood, and our boys enjoyed it just as much, if not more than, I did years ago.

And of course, one of the highlights of an aquarium trip is always the penguins. When we visited the aquarium two years ago, the penguin exhibit was being renovated, so we were happy that the various penguin groups were back on display this time. Lydia slept through most of the adventure, but she woke up in time to pose for a picture with me.

It was around 5:00pm by the time we returned to our van and pulled into a parking lot to eat "lunch," but in spite of our blunders, our aquarium trip was a fun family day!

There is the sea, vast and spacious,
teeming with creatures beyond number—
living things both large and small.
Psalm 104:25

Seed-Bearing Fruit

2010-02-05T20:06:00.009-05:00

"I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing."
John 15:5

Motherhood, as all mothers know, has some ugly moments - and ugly days. I have shared glimpses (trust me, they were just glimpses!) into such times in my own life in previous blog posts. Any day has the potential for ugliness, for sin to creep in and eat away at the blessings of domestic life, but each day also has the potential to be an occasion of joy and thankfulness to the Lord. And today, I am happy to report, was not an ugly day.

In fact, the day started off with some of my favorite routine activities: snuggling between a sweet baby and her wonderful daddy, an early morning workout, a hot shower, and a hot breakfast. Despite the imperfections (a wet boy with wet sheets that now needed washing, just two days after I last changed them), the morning was altogether pleasant. This was partly due to the fact that both my workout and shower were surprisingly free of the usual (and often frustrating) interruptions.

Instead of leaving the children to their own devices while I washed off, I set up Lydia on her blanket with toys, and the boys close beside, each with a pile of laundry to fold and put away. Laundry is the boys' least favorite of their regular chores, and the mere mention of it often elicits groans, whines, or mysterious disappearances. Upon seeing Donny's chagrined face this morning, I encouraged him to please God, to please Mumma and Daddy, and to displease Satan by folding the laundry with a joyful heart. I reminded both children that God is watching them even when Mumma cannot, and that they would choose between consequences for disobedience or the rewards of completing their task before my return. I dared not expect too much - after all, there are many days when I command, "Fold the laundry," with repeated warnings and reminders, and the task still takes three times longer than it should. Yet I stepped out of the room hoping that today, after my gentle explanation and encouraging reminders, would be different.

And it was! I enjoyed a refreshingly unhurried shower, got dressed, and returned to find Lydia still playing on her blanket, and the boys putting away the last of the laundry they had folded. What joy to a mother's heart, to see her children obey completely! I have a strong suspicion that the time I spent in explanations and encouragement - the fruit of gentleness and patience displayed in me, by the grace of God - was what made the difference between an ugly morning of incomplete chores and a the joyful morning I experienced.

There was more encouragement later, while we ran errands. The cashier in the grocery store recognized us, and told the woman in line behind us how good my children are, and how the boys are always such good helpers with the groceries. It's true; they may have occasions of whining, begging, or spilling their snacks, but for the most part, the boys are great grocery helpers - especially when we get home, and they help me put all the food away!

Now of course, my three children did not suddenly morph into perfect, sinless creatures, or even into completely obedient little soldiers. By the end of day, discipline for bad attitudes and delayed obedience was necessary. Yet by the grace of God, the day did not go sour. I was able to remain patient and calm, correcting what needed correction, and helping my children come to a place of repentance for their sin. And in those moments, moments that could easily have taken an ugly turn, I saw God's hand at work. I saw spiritual fruit in myself: a gentle patience that is so often lacking when I am not connected to the Vine. Had I flared up in anger or collapsed in discouragement, I would not have experienced the peace of walking with God and leading my little ones to His feet. If selfishness had crept in, I would have been too self-occupied to notice the many blessings laced throughout my day.

In a similar way, today I saw fruit in my children, which encouraged me that the praying and Bible reading and verse memorizing and hymn singing and theological discussions are not just producing well-educated hypocrites. It seems that somewhere in their childish hearts, a seed has been planted, a seed that I pray daily will grow and blossom, that my children may come to truly know Christ as their Savior. Today I witnessed the fruit of my labors: children are not born knowing how to put away laundry or be cheerful in the grocery store, but consistent training in the ways of the Lord is effective.

I wanted to record today's events, however unexciting they may seem to some, to encourage myself and my readers not to give up on the ugly days. Get connected to the true Vine, find peace and refreshment there, and watch as the fruit you bear for Him produces seed for the next generation.

Developing a Vision for Your Life

2010-01-24T00:07:00.002-05:00

As promised in my last post, today I would like to take a brief look at the idea of vision. Just as it is difficult to reach a destination if we don't know where we are going, we are unlikely to achieve our goals in life unless we clearly identify those aspirations. Later I will discuss more specific details applicable to mothers and homemakers, but first, let us start with an overall vision for ourselves and the kind of life we want to live.

If the Lord took me home to heaven tomorrow, what would I want people to say about me? It may sound strange, but writing out, or at least thinking out, my memorial speech helps me envision the kind of person I want to be. Do I want my children to grow up and remember that when they were little, Mom yelled a lot? Or that she was too busy to help them? Or that she was always on the computer, and seemed irritated when interrupted? Of course not. I pray that my children will see their mother as a kind, gentle, and hardworking servant of the Lord. I want them to remember hugs and words of encouragement and being taught to work hard with a cheerful attitude. Fixing the vision of that kind of mother in my mind helps me to choose words, actions, and attitudes that befit such a character. When my children complain about their breakfast, refuse to do their chores, or fight over who gets to wear the green bib, I can choose to let my flesh take control and react with anger or irritation, or, by God's grace, I can react with patience and love. When I step back for a moment and listen to myself, or imagine what I would look like to others, it is easy to know whether or not I am honoring God by acting like a Godly mother.

Likewise, I try to consider what I would like my husband to say about me to his friends or coworkers. In my ideal world, my husband boasts, "My wife is beautiful inside and out. I don't know how she manages to teach and train our children, keep our home neat and ready for guests, make nutritious meals for all of us, and still look amazing. I hope our daughters grow up to be just like her." Of course, in my ideal world, I am actually able to do all these things! In the real world I may (and consistently do) fall short, but having the vision of the wife, mother, and person I want to be helps me to achieve my goals.

So where does this vision come from? How do we determine exactly which traits and characterisics to strive for? While specific roles and personalities vary greatly, we Christians ought to have the same end goal: to be like Christ. Every day, we are called to pursue Christ-likeness by fixing our eyes on Him in order that God might conform us to the likeness of His Son (Romans 8:29). Other Christians, from mentors and pastors to heroes of the Bible, can provide inspiration for us, but it is Christ Himself from whence our vision ultimately comes.

The writer of the hymn "Be Thou My Vision" had it right: My Vision, my Wisdom, my Best Thought, is Christ. In order to develop a clear vision for my life and the person God created me to be, I must have a clear vision of who Christ is - a vision that is found by reading and studying His Word. In reading, I learn that Jesus lived a life of holiness, prayerfulness, humility, patience, compassion, goodness, and other such fruits, and He desires that same kind of life for me. As 1 John 2:6 succinctly states, "Whoever claims to live in him must walk as Jesus did."

As I look ahead at 2010, at what I hope to accomplish and how I hope to grow in grace and knowledge, I am humbled to see how my most lofty human aspirations pale in comparison to the plan God has for me. Diet and exercise resolutions may be forgotten by February, but our resolve to follow Christ is a life-long journey. This year, this day, and every day, I urge you to join me in fixing our eyes on Christ. Let us prayfully allow Him to direct our steps, asking Him to give us a clear vision of His good, pleasing, and perfect will for our lives.

My Goal is God Himself, not joy, nor peace,
Nor even blessing, but Himself, my God;
'Tis His to lead me there - not mine,but His—
At any cost, dear Lord, by any road.
~ Frederick Brook

The Sense of Sight

2010-01-11T19:58:00.003-05:00

Something ironic happened in the middle of our homeschool unit on the five senses: We lost our senses.

No, we didn't actually go crazy (though a certain five year old's whining was enough to drive anyone crazy!). Actually, we just got sick. Donny started with cold symptoms and complaining that his mouth hurt when he swallowed. Then his ear hurt. And his eye was full of crusty goop. I took him in to the doctor on Friday in time to find out that he had an ear infection (not a surprise given the symptoms), conjunctivitis (also not a surprise), and strep throat! And although he never displayed any symptoms, Hayden also had the telltale white bumps of strep, so now they are both enjoying a twice-daily sip of bubble gum Amoxicilin to clear up the many infections.

Since his ear has been infected, Donny has been having some trouble hearing (especially when I am giving him instructions...suspicious, isn't it?). Like anyone with a cold, his sense of smell is diminished as well. When we did a smelling activity ("Close your eyes and guess what Mumma is holding under your nose!"), his stuffiness impaired his olfactory abilities. As for the sense of sight, I am the one who suffered the greatest impairment. I woke up on Saturday morning with one eye crusted shut: apparently, despite my careful handwashing, I had contracted Donny's conjunctivitis.

The treatment was easy enough: the doctor called in some prescription antibiotic eye drops for me. I was instructed, by doctor, nurse, and the prescription label, not to wear contact lenses. For most contacts wearers, it might not be a big deal to put on glasses for a few days. But since I hate wearing glasses, I have not bothered to own a pair for the past ten years. I managed high school, college, driving, marriage, giving birth (including surgically), and being up in the middle of the night with fussy babies and sick toddlers, all without the use of glasses, but recently I have been thinking that it might be wise to invest in a pair, and now I am convinced that it would be beneficial. Without my contacts, I can't see!

It's nothing like being in total darkness, of course, but I tend to say that I am blind without my contacts in. I can clearly see less than a foot in front of my face; anything beyond that is blurry. Normally, inserting contacts is the first thing I do in the morning, and removing them is the last thing I do at night, so to spend two entire days without my visual aids was certainly a different point of view. I am so thankful that my dear husband was home to help me! Not only was I unable to drive to the pharmacy to pick up my prescription; I couldn't watch TV, use the computer, or even read without holding the book right in front of my face, or see whatever the boys were trying to show me, or exchange smiles with my baby girl from across the room. Even something as simple as glancing at the clock to check the time was impossible.

When I finally reinserted my contacts after two blurry days, it was amazing how sharp and clear everything was! In spite of the inconvenience, this case of pinkeye gave me a deeper appreciation for my sense of sight (and for the technology that allows me to have sight when my natural eyes fail!). And all of this got me thinking about sight, and vision, and how the words apply to so much more than just that which is right in front of our eyes. Next time I blog, I plan to share some thoughts on having a vision for our lives, which is fitting as we start a new year. Until then, rejoice with me that you are able to read this blog because God has blessed you with the gift of sight!

Ears that hear and eyes that see— the LORD has made them both.
Proverbs 20:12

Let the Children Come

2009-12-30T19:44:00.004-05:00

Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me,
and do not hinder them,
for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."
Matthew 19:14

Throughout the month of December, in the midst of tree trimmings and family gatherings and stockings overflowing with candy, the Lord has continually pressed one idea upon my heart: these days with my little ones are so very precious. This earthly life is so fleeting anyway, and as any parent will agree, children grow up too quickly. Don shared that one of his coworkers was surprised when, at his six year old daughter's birthday party, someone told him, "Congratulations, you're one third of the way through!" While parenting is in many ways a life-long job, these years of raising young children are a special time that we can never get back. Our children's beliefs, values, and character are being formed and molded before our eyes each day. With Hayden recently turning three, Donny turning five, and Lydia reaching the half-year mark, I am reminded that they will not be little forever, and I must cherish each day that the Lord graciously gives me with them. A verse from the poem "Song for a Fifth Child" by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton has been echoing through my mind:

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
For children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

So in recent weeks, I have been more mindful to savor the moments of nursing my smiley baby Lydia, or hugging my snuggly Hayden, or learning the intricate imaginations of Donny's five year old mind. Yet today the Lord convicted me, as He has in the past, of missing opportunities, not to merely enjoy my children, but to teach them to love his Word. After a few years of reading children's Bibles, I read through Mark and Acts with the boys, reading a half chapter or more before they went to bed each night. After Lydia arrived, we struggled to finish the final chapters of Paul's journeys chronicled in Acts. And now that Don is working evenings again and Hayden requires a nebulizer treatment before bed, I often find that I don't "feel like" reading a Bible story. Sometimes there are dishes to wash and diapers to change, other days it's just too late by the time the boys have jammies on and teeth brushed, many days Lydia is fussy right at the time they are getting ready for bed, but whatever the excuse, regular scheduled Bible time continually gets pushed aside.

With this in mind tonight, while Hayden sat on the couch breathing in his asthma medication, I opened up his children's Bible and raised my voice over the loud hum of the nebulizer machine to read, "Jesus loves the little children." While I read the rhyming words of the toddler storybook, I envisioned the scene I have read so many times in the familiar passage from Mark:

People were bringing little children to Jesus to have him touch them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." And he took the children in his arms, put his hands on them and blessed them.
Mark 10:13-16

If you have children, or have ever met one, you know that their presence is not always desirable. If they are anything like some children I know, they will interrupt your conversations, wake up when you want to sleep, crowd your bed or lap or personal space, and pound the bathroom door the second you lock it behind you, insisting that they have to go "right now!" They assault your ears with bickering and repetitive songs, your eyes with messy faces and messy bedrooms, and your nose with noxious diapers and garlic hommus breath. And yet, Jesus - God Himself! - told His disciples to bring those little people to His arms. He put His gentle Hands on them, never averting His eyes from their uncombed hair or despairing over their childish antics, and held them up as an example of faith for us. He commanded us to let the children come to Him. And how, I wonder, can I obey this command unless I take their hands and lead them to His loving arms?

Father God, how often do I miss an opportunity to bring my children before you! When I am too busy, too self-absorbed, too discouraged by their disobedience and noise and mess, you still want them to come to you. You see in children that something that I only catch a glimmer of during their before-meal prayers or their peacefully sleeping faces: an uncompromised faith and trust in you. Let me remember that always, and cherish each moment with them not just because they are my precious children, but because they are yours. Help me to carve out moments to build Lego creations and color pictures and sing songs with them because the days are fleeting. But even if I am never the "fun" mom or the perfect mom, even if I miss opportunities to play, or fail to keep their toys perfectly organized, or if dinner consists of peanut butter sandwiches for several nights in a row, let me never fail to bring my children to you. As you draw me closer to Yourself, may my children develop the same passion to know the living God, and to live their lives in accordance with Your Word.

In the coming year, I pray that I will make the most of every moment, living each day to be more like Christ. In doing so, may I never hinder my children from knowing their Heavenly Father. As I bask in their smiles, their hugs, and their stories, may I remember that every moment counts...and that this moment is one of the few precious ones I have to show them what true Love looks like.

Christmas Card 2009

2009-12-22T14:10:00.004-05:00

Dear friends,

Merry Christmas 2009! This year has brought many new things to our family. Last December, despite last-minute closing glitches and a major ice storm that delayed our move, we had the privilege of purchasing our first home. It has been a wonderful blessing to be close to family, friends, and our church again! Our first winter here was a crash course in New England home ownership. We learned valuable lessons, like never to choose a paint color online, how to replace a toilet, and to fill the oil tank before an ice-cold shower alerts you that it is empty. In spite of the six-foot icicles and an ant infestation (yes, in winter!), we have really enjoyed having more space for our growing family, our own yard, and a living/dining area that is perfect for hosting social gatherings - something we love to do!

In addition to indoor parties, we have enjoyed several outdoor evenings with friends toasting marshmallows over a campfire in the firepit Don built. In late spring, we also decided to repair and open our inground pool. After six straight weeks of rain and a leak issue, we were finally able to enjoy a few pool parties and several afternoon swims during the warmer weather of August. Another major investment this spring was the purchase of a minivan to fit three car seats, which has been quite a luxury after sharing one small car for over a year. Our new purchase was made possible, in part, by an unexpected blessing: when he was not even seeking it, Don got a new job! His new position in the IT department at a large hospital has provided for our family’s needs and shortened his commute significantly. And though he took the summer off, Don has continued to coach gymnastics – his true passion – a few evenings a week through most of the year. His dream is still to own his own gymnastics facility, and we eagerly look forward to having the resources necessary to make that a reality.

On June 11, after a long and slow labor, our daughter Lydia Faith was born by cesarean section. She is such a joy and blessing to our family. She is a good natured baby who sleeps well, eats well, and bestows enormous grins on anyone who talks to her. Lydia’s brothers adore her, often showering her with hugs, songs, and baby talk. It is hard to believe she is halfway to her first birthday already! Manda is happy to be a mom of three, and even though she has less time to blog about the details, she enjoys her busy days at home…some of which are even busier thanks to our friends’ two little girls, whom Manda watches two mornings a week. In our spare bits of free time, Don and Manda are likely to be found working out, having people over, or serving as volunteer youth leaders for the youth ministry at church.

Our Hayden is now a bright and affectionate three year old, while Donny is turning five, and just as imaginative and intelligent as ever. This year Donny has been working on intricate creations with his “tiny” Legos, even mastering a building kit that is supposedly for ages 8-10! He also loves crafts, especially making cards for people. Hayden is often singing and loves working out with Daddy. He is currently perfecting his forward roll, which makes his gymnastics coach Daddy very proud! In September, we also started more formal homeschooling with the boys. We are using My Father’s World kindergarten for Donny, and Hayden keeps up with most of the lessons. So far we have had fun learning about the sun, moon, leaves, apples, nests, and turtles together.

In September, the five of us also enjoyed our annual apple picking excursion and a trip to Kittery Trading Post, where Don purchased his first shotgun. He hopes to complete a hunter safety course in time for hunting season next year. September also brought challenges to our family: Hayden was hospitalized for two days with wheezing and pneumonia. It appears that he has developed a viral-induced asthma that leaves him coughing and wheezing whenever he catches the slightest germ. He is currently on a daily nebulizer medication to prevent symptoms, and whenever he gets a cold, additional medications are necessary to help him breathe. It is difficult to see our little guy so uncomfortable, but we praise God for doctors and medicines to help him, and for Hayden’s joyful spirit. He has been quite a trooper, from charming the hospital nurses to enduring twice-daily nebulizer treatments without complaint.

Now that we have been in our home for nearly one year, we are excited to spend our first Christmas here, complete with our first real Christmas tree! As we prepare to celebrate the birth of our Savior, we thank God for the gifts He has given us, but we thank Him for His Son most of all. It is because of the birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ that we, broken and sinful people, can have hope for our family and our future. We pray that you too will find new life in Christ this Christmas season!

With love,
Don, Manda, Donny, Hayden, and Lydia

The LORD has done great things for us,
and we are filled with joy.
Psalm 126:3

Today's Status

2009-12-09T20:13:00.010-05:00

This life may be temporary, but it is complicated and engrossing nevertheless, filled with moments of joy and pain and routine, with memories and hopes and problems and people. My readers who are fellow Facebook members may understand the difficulty inherent in summarizing one's daily thoughts, emotions, and activities into one witty, pithy, or remotely interesting comment that is fit to present to the virtual world as our "status." I feel a bit stuck today, not because I have nothing to say, but because there are so many things to say...there is not enough substance for a blog post, and no one thought that stands out clearly above the rest. Below are several accurate assessments of my current status. You can help me choose the best one for today!

Manda...

...loves staying inside on rainy and snowy days.
...got the winter gear out of the attic, went out in the snow, and made a snowman with the boys this morning.
...saw the snowman melting in the rain this afternoon.
...heard thunder this evening!
...wishes her camera wasn't broken; there are so many picture-worthy moments to capture.
...hopes to get a new camera for Christmas!
...is entertained by Lydia's frequent spit bubbles and raspberries.
...smells our yet-to-be-decorated Christmas tree.
...made some yummy beef dip sandwiches for dinner.
...was amused when Donny called his sandwich a "bundle" instead of a bun.
...has almost finished the cookies from Saturday's cookie swap.
...is getting addicted to working out, but knows that doesn't excuse the extreme cookie consumption.
...will someday be able to do a perfect push-up.
...refuses to turn on the oil heat. We're trying to use just our electric heaters this winter.
...knows she is a stubborn New Englander when a 62 degree room feels comfortably toasty compared to the rest of the house.
...wonders why Donny is still awake...
...doesn't like to hear Hayden coughing at night.
...loves putting fresh clean sheets on the bed.
...read Proverbs 9 and 1 Peter 1 today.
...is thankful for time spent in the Word, and wants to make Bible study and prayer more of a priority.
...rejoices in the love of her Savior!
...needs to address the stack of Christmas photo cards. ("Hello, cards!")
...finds Candy Cane Lane tea delicious.
...hears, "You have your hands full!" at least three times during every trip to the store.
...is thinking about New Year's already.
...thinks she might actually be caught up on email and laundry.
...is glad to be part of the youth ministry team.
...will have a five year old, a three year old, and a half year old by the end of the week.
... is "filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy."
...should probably sweep up the Cheerios on the floor from yesterday.
...will be getting a phone call from her husband soon.
...is being growled at by a tired baby.
...has a lot on her mind.
...has a lot to do.
...has a lot to be thankful for!

Be joyful always; pray continually;
give thanks in all circumstances,
for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.
- 1 Thessalonains 6:16-18

Lucky Me

2009-11-06T20:14:00.006-05:00

Our everyday dinnerware is a set of blue and white willow china that belonged to my grandparents. When Don and I moved into our first apartment owning few of the necessities for living on our own, my mom's parents showed up with boxes of dishes that they no longer needed. They remembered that I liked the china set depicting Asian scenes reminiscent of Tiki Tiki Tembo, and I was thrilled to have our own dish set, especially such a special one.

Of course, through the years with young children and daily use, some of the dishes have broken or chipped. At one point when Donny was a toddler, he commented that his bowl was broken, and not wanting him to see it as something to complain about, I replied, "Lucky you!" After repeating this interaction a few times, Donny came to believe that he really was lucky when he got the chipped plate or bowl. In fact, apparently the word "lucky" is exclusively associated in his mind with broken dinnerware, because a few weeks ago, when I said something along the lines of, "I'm so lucky," his response was a confused, "You're not lucky. You don't have the chipped bowl!" And after glorying in his chipped plate one day, he even comforted his brother by pointing out all the cracks inside Hayden's teacup. "See Hayden, you're lucky too!"

When most people think of being lucky, they don't think about dishes. They think about big houses, cars, health, wealth, perfect bodies, perfect spouses and children, and tropical vacations. When things go wrong, we don't say we're lucky. We see the chip on our plate or the crack in our teacup and wonder why we were the unfortunate ones to get an imperfect dish. We see our spouse's bad mood, our children's disobedience, a stack of overwhelming bills, or a rainy day when we wanted sunshine, and we become unhappy. Instead of thanking God for giving us a plate, we carelessly pile things on, around, and under it while sighing over the menacing flaws, or perhaps wondering why we don't just break the whole thing.

Yet we each have so much to be thankful for if we choose to see it. I am blessed - or lucky if you will - to have a hardworking husband who commutes through rain, snow, and traffic jams to provide for our family, who protects and leads us, and who always makes me laugh. I am blessed with three healthy, intelligent, adorable children. We have a comfortable home with three bedrooms, space for entertaining, and locks on the doors. (If you have small children, you can appreciate the luxury of bedroom and bathroom doors that lock!) We have a yard full of trees and flowers and enough wildlife to provide countless hours of nature study. We have cupboards full of food and a reliable minivan to haul the food and children home from the nearby grocery store. We have family and friends and our amazing church family all within a fifteen minute drive. God has given me so much!

It's easy to forget how lucky we are when catalogues full of delightful but unaffordable items fill the mailbox. Or when we wake up to find toys strewn all over the living room and the adorable children inside - yes, inside - the couch cushions, pulling the stuffing out to make room for their mischievous bodies. Toys break, cars break, computers break, washers and dryers break, sometimes all at the same time. In these moments - and lives are made up of moments - it would be easy to complain about the chipped plate of my life. But God doesn't see it that way. No matter what our specifics look like, He commands us to be thankful, giving "thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus" (1 Thessalonians 5:18).

So I pray that I will give thanks in all the imperfect circumstances that threaten to shatter my joy. May I rejoice in the life God has given me instead of dwelling on my wishlist of improvements. And next time one of our heirloom dishes crashes to the floor, instead of sinking into despair or anger, may I say along with Donny, "Lucky me!"

But beyond being lucky, God has an amazing way of working things together for His glory. I thought through this blog post last Friday, but when I finally sat down at the computer to type it out, I was too tired to begin. The weekend with its busyness quickly pushed any thoughts of blogging to the back of my mind. Then on Tuesday morning, I had just finished getting dressed when I was startled by a crash. I hurried into the kitchen to find my charming helpers carrying out my instructions to unload the dishwasher, but instead of neatly stacking the breakable dishes on the counter as usual, they had decided to use them as building blocks. Plates, bowls, mugs, and pots were all stacked together on table, counter, and floor. And Hayden was guiltily standing in china dust, apologizing for dropping my plate. I quickly hurried the boys out of the room so that I could sweep up the shards before they stepped on the mess with their bare feet.

But on second glance, there wasn't much to sweep up. A tiny bit of dust, yes, but the plate had not shattered as one might expect. On the floor beside it was simply a chip - a big, perfect chip broken off the edge of the dinner plate - resulting in the second chipped dinner plate of our collection. I used to keep the other one on top of the stack, figuring that if one was to be broken, in our frequent use of it, it would be the plate that was already chipped. Yet for some strange reason, on Tuesday the previously chipped plate was about six plates down in the stack, even though we normally only use a few large plates each days, and the the dishwasher is emptied daily. So now, if you join us for dinner, please excuse our chipped plates...and know that your chances for being the lucky dinner guest have doubled!

I don't believe in coincidence; God is in control of every situation. He knows exactly what we need to be encouraged, convicted, or reminded of His Greatness. And while yes, I forgave Hayden, and no, he won't be unloading the breakable dishes for a long time, I do not see this as an isolated accident. Instead, I see the hand of my Heavenly Father, lovingly handing me another chipped plate to remind me how lucky I really am.

Fall in All Its Glory

2009-11-04T14:40:00.006-05:00

Sing for joy, O heavens,
for the LORD has done this;
shout aloud, O earth beneath.
Burst into song, you mountains,
you forests and all your trees,
for the LORD has redeemed Jacob,
he displays his glory in Israel.
Isaiah 44:23

Seasons

2009-10-19T14:26:00.001-04:00

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven...
Ecclesiastes 3:1

Autumn is undoubtedly my favorite season. The crisp cool breezes on sunny afternoons, the blazing radiance of maple and birch trees as their leaves explode into shades of red and yellow, the aromas of homemade pies wafting from the oven or cider donuts at the farm store, and the crunch of withered leaves beneath my feet all fill me with delight. Fall is also the time for our annual apple picking excursion (a.k.a. photo shoot). This year we actually went to one orchard with family and visited a different farm the day with friends from church. It was the perfect weekend to start our A-a-Apple homeschool unit, especially since we used our apples for baking and art projects. As always, we had fun picking the apples and eating them, too!

I am afraid it may be a short season this year; this weekend, in mid-October, we had snow! Thankfully none of it stuck to the ground, but we drove to church yesterday with giant, slushy flakes splashing against our windshield. Occasionally it will snow as early as Thanksgiving here in New England, but these flakes were quite out of place when the trees - and lawns - are still decked in colorful leaves.

My faithful readers have surely noticed that the birth of our third child has ushered a new season into my life, a season in which endless hours of composing blog posts are replaced with loads of pink laundry and snippets of comuter time during nursing sessions. I love my blog because besides providing a record of my thoughts and daily experiences, I see it as a ministry, with the purpose of encouraging other young wives, mothers, and homemakers. Of course, my primary ministry has been and will continue to be to care for my husband and children. I decided at the last minute to start kindergarten work with Donny this fall instead of waiting until next year, so besides regular chores and routines, we are now busily engaged in My Father's World kindergarten curriculum. Hayden joins us for most of the activities, and I am amazed at how much he comprehends even though he is not yet three years old!

This fall, the Lord has also given me some new ministry opportunities. Two mornings a week, our school lessons are also shared with another two year old and her baby sister. I am watching our friends' two girls while their mom works as a teacher, and the mornings of five-children-under-five are busy and demanding. This ministry has been more challenging than I anticipated since the baby, who is now eight months old, cries unless I hold her. I have been wearing her on my back in my Ergo baby carrier sometimes and hope that she will grow to like being at our home with the other children. In the meantime, prayers are welcome!

I have also joined my husband in ministering to the teens at our church. Don has always loved teenagers (and they adore him!), and thanks to some changes in church and work schedules, he had the privilege of becoming a youth leader at our church early this summer. In the past few weeks, I have had the opportunity to join him for the youth ministry's small group discussions and service projects. While some of the so-called fun activities are not really "my thing" (I never like playing games, even when I was in youth group myself!), I love the opportunity to build relationships with the teens and encourage them in their spiritual walks. Much like having our own children, being a mentor or youth leader is a great responsibility that forces Don and I to deepen our own relationships with God. It is only through our own prayers, study of Scripture, and acts of worship to God that we can set a godly example and gain the wisdom we need to encourage our young friends.

Seasons are always changing. Given this weekend's strange weather, I have no doubt that these sunny autumn afternoons will soon give way to barren branches and cold wintry mornings. I am not sure how long this current season of my life will last, or where blogging will fit in among the other things on my plate. I do know that before I can sit down and compose lengthy blog posts, I must tend to the other responsibilities God has given me. In fact, a smiley, chubby-cheeked responsibility dressed in pink is waking up now and reminding me that God has truly blessed me with a beautiful season.

Oh Happy Tree

2009-10-14T21:04:00.004-04:00

Let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them.
Then all the trees of the forest will sing for joy;
they will sing before the LORD, for he comes,
he comes to judge the earth.
He will judge the world in righteousness
and the peoples in his truth.
Psalm 96:12,13

Lydia's First Quarter

2009-09-20T18:15:00.001-04:00

Believe it or not, sweet Lydia is already more than three months old. Sometime around two months postpartum, I lost track of her age in weeks. I know it will be just the blink of an eye before I am baking her first birthday cake!

I have to admit, although life is busy with three small children, Lydia is the easiest three month old I have had. In her newborn days, she cried whenever I put her down, but in recent weeks she has been content to stretch and smile while playing in her baby gym or lying on a blanket. For the most part, she only fusses when she is wet, tired, or hungry...or when I (attempt to) clean the grub out of her stinky neck folds. She is certainly the most smiley baby in our family. Though she has been smiling at random times since birth, her first seemingly responsive smile was delivered at five weeks. Since then, the amount of smile time has increased each day, and she now spends long periods enchanting us with her mirthful grins.

Another wonderful improvement has been in her sleep habits. Even in the early weeks, she typically had a stretch of four or five hours of sleep during the night. Then she fell into a pattern of sleeping from 12 to 6, but her wide-awake and often fussy periods in the late evenings left me quite sleepy. Around two months old, she started sleeping for even longer periods, up to eight hours, and now she typically goes to bed around 10pm, may or may not wake up to nurse in the early morning, and gets up for the day around 7:30. After having two boys who wanted to nurse every two hours around the clock for most of the first year, these full nights of sleep have been an unexpected blessing. Her tendency to sleep in makes it easier to get breakfast on the table or get ready for church on Sunday mornings. She sleeps well in her own bed or mine, on her back or (shh!) on her belly, and is quite likely to wake up full of smiles!

She continues to nurse well, to adapt well to different situations, and to patiently tolerate her brothers' affections. We are so blessed to have such a happy, healthy little girl in our family. Here's how the princess has grown in her first quarter!

Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is good.
1 Peter 2:2,3

Name Those Cheeks

2009-09-16T20:20:00.001-04:00

Safe with the Father

2009-09-16T14:50:00.007-04:00

After last week's post about Hayden being rushed to the hospital with a cough, he ended up spending another day and night there. They attributed the coughing to viral bronchitis and the wheezing to what they are calling reactive airway disease. According to our understanding, it is similar to asthma, and the virus caused it to flare up. The diagnosis - if it is one - makes sense, since allergies and asthma tend to be related, and Hayden always sounds like a purring cat when he has a cold. On top of this, his x-ray indicated pneumonia. After a two nights and a day of nebulizer treatments and antibiotics, they released Hayden around lunchtime on Thursday with a few medications to take home, including an inhaler for his breathing. In the future, we may have to use the inhaler again if a bad cold or anything else causes coughing fits and wheezing. For now, though, he seems to be happy and healthy - praise God!

God was gracious to provide helpful family members, paid time off for Don, and peace in my heart through those two crazy days. I was able to visit Hayden at the hospital on Wednesday afternoon (while my sister-in-law watched Lydia in the waiting room so as not to expose her to Hayden's germs), but Don was with him the entire time. I was greatly comforted to know that Hayden had Daddy by his side, and I'm sure he was too. I also praise God for Hayden's good spirits; he never complained about the medicines, having to use an inhaler, or even about being hooked up to hospital monitors. The doctors were impressed with his verbal skills and the nurses could not resist his two year old charms. One nurse couldn't believe that he said thank you when she brought him something. Another saw me with a gift bag and said, "You must be looking for someone who had a baby!" I responded, "Actually I'm looking for my son; he's in room 316?" She exclaimed, "Oh, that sweet little Hayden! I'm his nurse today!"

Thank you, Lord, for keeping my sweet, sunggly little Hayden safe and healthy and joyful. Thank you for protecting the rest of us from Hayden's illness, and especially that Lydia has not had so much as a sniffle during these recent weeks of sickness. Thank you for his loving father who cuddled and comforted him during what could have been a scary time, and for the peace I had while staying home with our other children. And thank you for being my loving Heavenly Father who never leaves my side. You give me comfort through the times that could be scary, joy through painful times, and peace through the chaos and craziness of life.

Yet I am always with you;
you hold me by my right hand.
Psalm 73:23

Human Frailty

2009-09-09T00:12:00.000-04:00

First it was a stomach bug - the kind that many erroneously refer to as "the flu." Donny was the first to wake up feeling "hungry" and requiring a change of sheets shortly thereafter. Several days later, Don and I suddenly had stomachaches. Even Hayden had a few episodes of vomiting, though he managed to escape the fever and fatigue that plagued the rest of us. By the grace of God, Lydia was sweetly content and stayed healthy even when both parents were miserable. And miserable I was, at least during those intense moments of insurmountable nausea. Truly, it is humbling to find oneself utterly incapable of doing anything other than lying limply on the bathroom floor.

The next Friday, I told Don I was seeing spots. Only it wasn't really spots; it was a strange wave in the lower right corner of my vision that would not go away, even when I tried taking my contacts out. And when it finally stopped, my head started to hurt. I always have frequent migraines when I am not pregnant, but this visual disturbance was new - and quite unwelcome. I spent the weekend battling a migraine with rest, cold packs, medicine, and prayer.

Then yesterday, Hayden woke up from his nap in a fit of coughing. Judging by the barking sounds echoing from his room, I was sure he had croup. After a night and day of sleep punctuated by fits of dry coughing, Don took him in to the doctor. Apparently his breathing troubles were more serious than I thought. The doctors advised taking him to the hospital by ambulance. Tonight he is in the pediatric ER, having his breathing monitored to make sure he gets enough oxygen to avoid passing out. I am home, holding down the fort with Donny (who thankfully, seems to be fine) and Lydia, who has been fussy with teething pains all day. Currently she is trying to eat her entire fist, and seems quite angry at her inability to do so.

These three back-to-back interruptions of health have disrupted our schedules and my grandest intentions of getting anything cleaned, organized, caught up, or otherwise accomplished. They have forced me to sit on the couch, rest in my bed, or snuggle some feverish little body while contemplating the frailty of our human existence. Yes, I admit, I am a frail, mortal person. Each migraine or bout of nausea reminds me that I am not the capable supermom I may, in the far recesses of my mind, imagine myself to be. And besides this exercise in humility, illness brings an opportunity to practice unselfishness, especially when it is a loved one who suffers. I saw it displayed by my oldest son who willingly did his brother's chores this morning, and by a sweet daddy who gave up his comfortable bed to spend one night being coughed on by a restless toddler and the next confined in a pediatric hospital room. Amidst the inconvenience and outright pain, there is some good to be found.

I am so thankful to live in a time and place where we have access to medicine, doctors, and even hospitals when we need them. I am thankful for the prescription that helps me recover from migraines, and that unlike my great-great-grandmother, I do not have to fear that my baby will die from a cough or fever. I am thankful for my own and my family's health that we so often take for granted. If nothing else, sickness reminds us of how precious a blessing our health is, and how wonderful it is to be well.

But more importantly, I praise God for the viruses, the migraines, and the painful conditions that force me to become more like Him. I thank Him for the opportunities to grow in love, humility, and selflessness in the face of suffering. And though my fleshly discomforts may be all-encompassing during those moments of agony, I must thank Him for more than restoring health to my physical body. I was a sinner, a broken and diseased soul destined for a place of torments that make migraines and vomiting seem like a tropical vacation. And just as I cannot save my body from death and disease, I alone am incapable of saving my soul from hell.

Yet God, in His infinite mercy, chose me to be one of His own. He lovingly lifted me up from the bathroom floors of this sinful world and breathed new life into me. As a loving Father, He holds me close to His side. There is no supplement, no prescription, no miracle cure that can do for my body what God has done for my soul. He has saved me in order that I might spend eternity with Him in a place where there is no more sorrow or suffering or death.

My body is weak. One microscopic germ can take down my entire family. But there is One who is strong, and He can use these inconveniences to remind me of His power and greatness and love. He heals my brokenness, inside and out. Praise the Lord!

I cried like a swift or thrush,
I moaned like a mourning dove.
My eyes grew weak as I looked to the heavens.
I am troubled; O Lord, come to my aid!"
But what can I say?
He has spoken to me, and he himself has done this.
I will walk humbly all my years
because of this anguish of my soul.
Lord, by such things men live;
and my spirit finds life in them too.
You restored me to health
and let me live.
Surely it was for my benefit
that I suffered such anguish.
In your love you kept me
from the pit of destruction;
you have put all my sins
behind your back.
Isaiah 38:14-17

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

2009-09-04T22:55:00.001-04:00

Did you ever have to write one of those essays? I think I still have my assignment from the first day of second grade, which includes a crayon portrait of a girl with long brown hair riding a horse, captioned with a few sentences about my trip to Oklahoma. And now that it's "back to school" time, I feel that I owe my blog readers - if there are any of you left - an essay of sorts explaining where I have been all August.

Those of you who have not seen me in real life or on Facebook may have suspected that I went on vacation. But actually, there were no glimpses of palm trees or famous landmarks for our family. We didn't have out-of-town relatives staying with us for weeks, nor did we sign our children up for summer camp, vacation Bible school, and swim lessons at the Y. Yet this summer has been what my teen friends from church would describe as "amazing." Although the season started off with six weeks of rain and recovering from major surgery, the fun of late July and August were enough to cast a warm light over the memory of Summer 2009.

We have been quite spoiled in our opportunities for swimming this summer. Besides a few visits to friends with pools, we have been able to swim in our own backyard. We bought this house with anticipation of enjoying the inground pool when warm weather arrived, but in the spring, it was a mosquito breeding ground full of tree limbs that had fallen during a winter ice storm. Our dreams of creating an outdoor oasis with freshly poured concrete were quickly dashed by five digit price tags, but we invested the money to have the basics: new liner, steps, and the pool opened for the season. We bought a pool cover for the off-season, which we ended up putting on for several weeks just to keep the pine needles out of the 65 degree water. I listened, oh so patiently, to my husband's daily tirades about how determined he was to chop down every bud-, leaf-, and needle-dropping tree in our forested backyard. It rained so much that we didn't even think of using the pool for about a month. Then we had to buy chemicals and a pool vacuum to keep it clean, and run the filter daily. And in spite of the abundant rain, the water level in the pool was dropping. Yes, there was a leak, which cost a mere $100 just to diagnose; the job to repair the cracked pipe was estimated to be several hundred dollars. Thinking we would rather drain the pool than drain our savings, Don and I wondered whether we should bother to fix it at all.

But as it turned out, we were greatly blessed by a good friend who is knowledgeable about pipes. He and Don spent an entire day in early July digging a giant hole next to our pool. After a quick trip to Home Depot, they were able to replace the damaged piece of pipe for a mere $30. By the end of July, Don had the pool clean, the chemicals balanced, and the water level stable. In August, we finally enjoyed swimming in our pool! The boys loved paddling around in their floaties while Lydia looked on - or slept - in her poolside seat. We hosted several birthday parties and other gatherings by the water, which were lots of fun even when the weather was uncooperative or when Don popped the boys' pool toy while diving through it. And even I, the one who has never liked the bother of getting changed and getting wet, snuck out on more than one naptime occasion to quickly cool off in the refreshing water. Though I love fall, it's too bad our swimming season is so short - before August had even ended, it was too cold to swim!

We, especially the children and I, were also were privileged to spend several lazy lake days with my mom. Last fall, she and my step-dad bought a house on a quiet pond just 15 minutes away from us, and their small strip of shore is just right for young waders. The boys spent hours digging and splashing, sliding into the water, going for boat rides, and paddling out to the raft in their floatie tubes. With some help from their uncle and Daddy, they even caught a few fish!

The tranquility of the water and lakeside picnics (not to mention the built-in babysitter grandparents) made it feel like vacation. I enjoyed a canoe ride with my husband as well as swimming (always staying afloat to avoid touching any muck at the bottom!) and floating on the inflatable raft...though after last time, I will be hesitant to get in the water again. I thought the bugs, frogs, and small rodents in our pool were bad enough, but they pale in comparison to leeches and a watersnake! In this picture, taken just prior to the vile creature's beheading, my heroic husband has him pinned with a rake.

Oblivious to the wildlife encounters, Lydia enjoyed the fresh air and family snuggles, whether she was looking "berry sweet," or modeling vintage (okay, hand-me-downs from mom) fashions.

I have more to share, but it will have to wait for another day. Meanwhile, I want to post this one before another month goes by!

Generations

2009-07-29T20:01:00.006-04:00

This week: My mom, me, 6 week old Lydia, and my grandmother

A quarter century ago: My great-grandmother, grandmother, mom, and one week old me

For the Lord is good and his love endures forever;
his faithfulness continues through all generations.
Psalm 100:5

A Fiesta for Family and Friends

2009-07-27T21:03:00.002-04:00

I have been blogging very little while I enjoy my babymoon with sweet Lydia, who is now six weeks old. Yet somewhere between nursing, changing diapers, and completing chores with one hand (the other hand holding baby, of course), I managed to plan a little party for my dear husband's birthday. Don thought we were going to my mom's house for his birthday dinner, but instead, he came home from work to find my parents, his family, and a few friends waiting in our living room. Surprise!

For any readers who may be planning a similar social gathering, I would like to offer a few helpful hints. First, if your husband and all of his relatives love tacos, a taco buffet with salsa music in the background will make for a great party. A piñata is an excellent complement to the Mexican theme, but be sure that the bat you use to break it is sturdy, rather than something like, say, a piece of plastic tubing that is likely to shatter when smashed into a solid object. And if you have the space and the boldness to hang your piñata indoors, be sure to leave plenty of open space around it, especially if the Daddies will be given a turn to smash the overstuffed item open. You may wish to stuff your piñata with Tootsie Rolls and caramels, but unless you enjoy finding crumb-size candy under your table, couch, and toes, avoid tiny packages of Nerds, Sweet Tarts, and other small treats that may burst out of the packages. If you fail to follow these hints, you may end up with quite a mess, not unlike the one I had the joy of cleaning after the festivities were ended.

Besides the yummy food (the make-your-own strawberry shortcake buffet was also a success!) and the excitement of the piñata smashing, we enjoyed the time visiting with family and friends. Remember the picture of my two pregnant friends and me at our Superbowl party? Almost six months later, we took the "after" picture with our three baby girls! Here is Lydia (6 weeks) with her friends Claire (4 months) and Riley (5 1/2 months):

It was a fun evening, and I was thankful to have many helping hands to chop vegetables, cook tortillas, blow up balloons, arrange chairs, and hold my sweet Lydia. She is a happy baby if (and only if) she is held and snuggled, so it is always a little easier to get things done if one of her many admirers is available to hold her. I may not be able to post much right now, but I trust that you know what is keeping my hands occupied. If you start to wonder how I am spending these summer days, just check the picture above...and imagine me doing something similar while making dinner, reading to toddlers, and sweeping candy out from under the couch.

Life Is Good

2009-07-22T20:08:00.003-04:00

Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
Psalm 23:6

An Inconvenient Life

2009-07-08T16:56:00.002-04:00

...And live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. - Ephesians 5:2

Americans love convenience. The easiest road is the best one, we reason. Drive-through windows, fast food, remote controls, cruise control, and diet pills (because who actually wants to exercise to lose weight?) are just a sampling of the many products of our ease-loving society. Do you want to know something about anything? No need to bother with the old-fashioned strategies of 1)Looking it up in an encyclopedia at the library or 2) Calling your parents to ask. Simply "Google" it and learn everything you need to know on Wikipedia. And if by some chance you are not near a computer or other device with internet capabilities, a new service promises to send the answer to any question to your cell phone via text message, for only $.99 an answer. A waste of money? Maybe. But like with ATM and pizza delivery fees, people are willing to pay for convenience.

Just this week, I experienced an easier-than-usual outing that made me consider the convenience factor in motherhood. While the boys spent a day with their grandparents, I took advantage of the relative freedom, and ran errands with no one but my three week old Lydia. It was so much easier to get out of the house with only one little person to bundle, buckle, pack for, and keep fed and happy during the outing - at least when compared to outings with two or three (or more) children. We even left the house at an unusual hour - the boys' lunch and nap time - just because we could; Lydia's naptime is anytime, and I made sure to feed her just before heading out the door. Of course, I still had to keep her need for milk and clean diapers in mind as she and I ventured in and out of the pharmacy and library. In the grocery store, I kept the cart moving through the aisles to prevent any unhappy awakenings. And as I precariously balanced groceries for four other people around Lydia's infant seat, I could not help but think how easy shopping must be for people who have no children to worry about.

In fact, there are many aspects of life that would be easier without the inconvenient cares of a family. When I run out of eggs or my nightly ice cream, it would be nice to hop in the car without a second thought, instead of packing a bag and wrestling three little people into carseats and carriages for a few measly groceries (and in actuality, I am much more likely to live without the missing item than to attempt the latter scenario). It would be easier to keep the floors clean (and oh, how I love clean floors!) if there were no muddy-shoed guests, toilet training accidents, or sticky bananas and soggy Cheerios dropped at mealtime. And having a newborn can be particularly inconvenient, especially if she is the sort to cry whenever one attempts to put her down. My ability to do things that other people take for granted - like sleep, shower, or make and eat dinner - is often squelched by my lack of free hands while I cradle a tiny baby. I cannot go on a cruise (babies must be at least six months old), or plan an impromptu movie date without finding a babysitter, or dash out the door with the careless freedom of the single world. There is nothing convenient about cleaning up spills or being woken up at 3am or comforting a sick child or cleaning up messes from a sick child at 3am.

But honestly, would I trade my family for the sake of convenience? Never. What would be the point in concocting a delicious meal if there were no loved ones to enjoy it (or at least eat the minimum number of required bites)? If I dropped my children off at daycare to get some "me time" or make errands easier, I would miss out on the joys of teaching, playing with, and caring for them. I don't mind exchanging the convenience of free hands and free time for the sweetness of snuggling my precious baby. And though families are messy and time-consuming, I would much rather be loved in an imperfect home than lonely in a spotless one. It might be nice to have a job that ends at 5:00 with no late-night calls, but even with its crazy hours, I love the job that God has given me.

Besides, God has not called us to an easy life. I cannot find a single Biblical reference commanding us to bear or raise children - or do anything, for that matter - according to what is convenient. Instead, He calls us to live a life of love and sacrifice. Some sacrifices are grand and admirable, but much more often (and especially for mothers), they are small and unseen, like running errands with three children in tow - or staying home when it would be nice to get out. If I do them with joy, the mountains of dirty diapers, dishes, and laundry I tackle are not a burden, but a fragrant offering to God. I may not be able to complete all of my projects, or have time to unwind at the end of the day, or go to the bathroom without children banging on the door, but instead of becoming resentful, I can choose to see these little sacrifices as my offering to my family, and to God.

I am typing this with a baby asleep on my lap. It might be easier, and less strain on my back, to blog without a sleepy spectator between me and the laptop screen. But I cannot imagine trading these sweet little sighs and fluttering eyelids for all the ergonomic chairs in the world. And tonight, when the house is in a state of disarray and I am needing a shower and my dinner is cold because Princess Lydia likes to have all of Mumma's attention in the evenings, may I praise God for every inconvenience that gives me opportunity to sacrifice. Just as Christ gave himself for us, I pray that I will be willing to give myself for my husband and children.

Dear friends, spend your money on pizza delivery and text messages if you choose, but let us spend our lives in loving sacrifice for others.

Sister and Brothers

2009-07-01T18:31:00.003-04:00

"Say of your brothers, 'My people,'

and of your sisters, 'My loved one.' "
Hosea 2:1

Notes to a Newborn

2009-06-29T13:41:00.014-04:00

Dear Lydia Faith,

It was just two and a half weeks ago that you made your grand entrance into the world. Despite the drama of labor and your surgical birth, your life outside the womb has been happy and healthy so far. Your early scowl quickly gave way to a variety of expressions, including sweet smiles and the rooting "popeye" face. You are a great nurser; in the hospital, the lactation consultant noted that you have a very powerful suck, and at your two week checkup, you had already gained a pound and grown an inch! While lying down, you wiggle and roll from side to stomach. In typical newborn fashion, you sleep a lot, sometimes in a deep sleep, and sometimes in a light, twitchy sleep that exists only as long as some warm arms are holding you. You can be quite vocal if your needs are not attended to immediately, but so long as you are fed, burped, changed, and held, you are content.

You are the perfect addition to our little family. Your two older brothers adore you; Donny lets you suck his knuckle, Hayden gives you hugs and kisses, and they both like to visit with you and sing songs to you. I am more in love with your Daddy than ever to see him hold you and know that God has used him and me to create these beautiful children. Everyone is happy to have a girl in the family, and even people we don't know are sending little dresses for you to wear and pink fuzzy blankets to keep you warm. It is fun to dress you in bubblegum pink baby gowns and cloth diapers, adding a softly feminine touch to your infantile innocence. You are the princess, not the spoiled brat princess, but one who is born to royalty and great expectations. We do not yet know what your personality will be like, but we expect you to conduct yourself as a proper little lady. And like the Lydia of the Bible, we pray that the Lord would open your heart to the gospel, that you might become a woman of faith and a worshiper of God.

For now, you are everything a newborn should be: small, sweet, sleepy, soft-skinned, and wonderfully precious. I delight in every part of your little body, from the scent of your softly fuzzy head to your tiny fingers and toes, your penetrating dark blue eyes, your perfect button nose, the nursing callous on your upper lip, your funny folded legs and feet, and even your cheesy-smelling neck folds. I keep you near me by holding you with one arm when we are busy at home, wearing you in a carrier when we are out, and cuddling you close when it is time to sleep. I could snuggle with you and watch your face for hours on end, because I know these days are all too fleeting, and I want to soak up every moment of your babyhood.

You will be an infant for such a short time, and a newborn for even less than that. All too soon you will be a toddler, a girl, and someday, a woman. When that day comes, I hope that you will be as blessed as I am, to hold your baby in your arms and know that he or she is a perfect, precious gift from a perfect, holy God. I pray that you will welcome your own children as blessings, just as we have joyfully welcomed you into our family and our lives.

Sweet Lyddie Bitty, I am so thankful for the privilege of being your mother. You are a precious gift from God!

Yet you brought me out of the womb;
you made me trust in you
even at my mother's breast.
From birth I was cast upon you;
from my mother's womb you have been my God.
Psalm 22:9-10

Whole Wheat Blueberry Pancakes

2009-06-23T19:58:00.006-04:00

When a mother has a new baby, friends and relatives often bring meals so that the mother does not have to worry about cooking. In our family, this normal act of kindness becomes a bit more complicated. Between Hayden's allergies, Donny's self-determined vegetarianism, and the entire family's pickiness, it is difficult even for me to make a dinner we can all eat. And what sensible person would volunteer to concoct a meal that contains no milk, eggs, nuts, soy, meat, MSG, trans fats, unusual vegetables, or mysterious textures?

So recently, when a well-meaning aquaintance from church asked if we needed meals, my first instinct was to say no and spare myself the trouble of explaining our dietary restrictions. My mom suggested that maybe someone could bring us a fruit basket instead, since we love fruit, and no one is allergic to it. It turned out to be a great idea! Yesterday a generous church friend arrived with a bag filled with fresh strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, blackberries, watermelon, and bananas - what a blessing! The fruit provides an easy snack and is full of nutrients to benefit my postpartum body and growing boys. If any of my readers are thinking of bringing something to a new mother, instead of the stereotypical casserole, perhaps she would be blessed by a basket of fresh fruit instead!

I am especially enjoying the abundance of berries that I would not normally buy for myself. Donny and Hayden love blueberries, but Don and I do not care for them, and most berries are so expensive that I usually hurry past them while filling my shopping cart with apples and bananas. With the abundance of berries in our house this week, though, I decided to search for a nutritious blueberry recipe to make use of some of the antioxidant-laden fruits.

I found some tempting muffin and pancake recipes, and settled on pancakes due to popular demand. The boys have been asking me to make pancakes for weeks, but it always seems like such a big project that I usually answer, "Not today." But this morning I surprised them by adapting a recipe for Hayden's allergies and our preferences, and while Lydia was napping, the boys and I mixed up these yummy blueberry pancakes!

Whole Wheat Blueberry Pancakes

- 2 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
- 4 teaspoons baking powder
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 2 tablespoons sugar or other sweetener
- 1 mashed yellow banana (or 2 eggs)
- 2 1/4 cups (rice) milk
- 1 cup fresh blueberries

- Sift dry ingredients.
Add wet ingredients and mix thoroughly.
Fold in blueberries.
Pour 1/4 cup batter onto pan or griddle, and cook like pancakes. :)
Yields approximately 20 pancakes. The boys and I each ate four, so the recipe makes about 5 servings in our house.

Even though I am not normally a blueberry fan, I enjoyed these pancakes, and hope you do too!

The Long Journey of Lydia Faith: A Birth Story

2009-06-13T08:08:00.041-04:00

Today is Wednesday, just six days after the birth of my third child and first daughter, Lydia Faith. As part of Wednesday's Walk Down Memory Lane hosted by Lynnette Kraft, I would like to share the long story of her journey into the world.

With my first and second pregnancies, I wrote out a birth plan well in advance to communicate my desires surrounding childbirth to my doctors, midwife, and nurses. This time, I finally got around to composing my birth plan the night before my 39 week appointment. As with my previous deliveries, I hoped for a natural birth with minimal interventions. I planned a waterbirth in the same hospital room where Donny and Hayden were born. Though I knew there was a good chance this little girl would be tangled in her umbilical cord like her brothers were, I hoped that maybe I would actually be able to hold this baby immediately after her birth.

My birth plan also included a list of things I wished to avoid: medication, continuous fetal monitoring, pitocin or other medical induction/augmentation of labor, episiotomy or excessive tearing, cesarean delivery, and passing out after delivery (snce I passed out twice after Hayden's birth and gave my dear husband quite a scare). I have often said that I am not afraid of the pain of natural labor - since I know my body is just doing what God intended it to do, and I think it is amazing to experience the sensations of childbirth - but I am afraid of medical interventions. I hate the side effects of drugs, am concerned that one intervention will lead to another, and the idea of being numb for such an exciting moment is completely unappealing. Despite the nervousness that inevitably surrounds impending labor, I looked forward to once again bringing a tiny little person into the world.

On the night of Tuesday June 9, just after finishing my Almost Ready post, I had trouble sleeping. After lying awake for much of the night, I woke up in the morning with contractions - contractions that indicated real labor. Though I did not have any other signs of labor, the radiating pains in my lower back every five minutes were enough for me to ask Don to stay home from work. I packed the boys' overnight bags, and Don dropped them off at his sister's house so that I could labor at home in peace. I planned to wait until the contractions were very intense and close together before heading to the hospital in order to enjoy the comforts of home and avoid any unnecessary hospital interventions.

By noon I had showered, tidied up the house, packed the last few things for the hospital, and done a load of laundry. The contractions continued steadily, but lacked the intensity I was waiting for. After lunch, I took a short nap, figuring I might as well rest while I could. Don and I went for a walk and timed my contractions, which were about three minutes apart. I could still walk through them, but by the end of our excursion, it was more comfortable to stop during each contraction. They lessened a bit when we returned home, leaving me wondering how long this early labor would continue.

In the late afternoon, I decided to check in with the doctor just to see what was happening with my body. I called to make an appointment with my midwife, Linda, and brought our bags along in case I was far enough to stay at the hospital. Judging by the frequency and intensity of my contractions, I expected to be about 4cm dilated. As we drove to Linda's office, though, the contractions slowed down. When Linda came in to check me, she concluded that I had dilated...all of one centimeter. Knowing this, and remembering how long I was in labor with Hayden, I had a sinking feeling that this could be another long labor stretching over several days. Though I hoped we would be returning later that night to check in to the hospital, only God knew when Lydia would actually be born.

I had no desire to go home and cook dinner while in labor, so Don and I went to the nearby Olive Garden, and ate soup and breadsticks while I quietly braced through contractions every five minutes. Back at home, I took a bath and tried to rest, getting a few hours' sleep before contractions woke me up at 3:30am. These were stronger, and seemed to be coming on top of each other, growing in intensity. After a half hour or so I concluded it was time to wake Don up and make the 30 minute drive again. We checked into labor and delivery at the hospital around 5am.

After getting settled in the familiar waterbirthing room, it was time to be checked out. Imagine my surprise to find that despite the intense contractions I was having at home, I had dilated to only 2 or 3 centimeters. I was not even considered to be in active labor yet! "Should I just go home then?" I asked. But Linda and the nurses encouraged me to wait a while and see if anything happened. Don and I walked around the maternity ward, and at my next check, I had progressed to 4cm dilation, so Linda decided to officially admit me to the hospital. She noted that the baby's head was not all the way down, and suggested that I try resting on my side to encourage her to move into the correct position.

Around 7am, the obstetrician Linda works under, Dr. M, came in to check on me. She felt the baby's head, estimated that I was at 5 or 6cm, and wanted to break my water to get things moving. Although I wanted to let labor progress naturally without intervening, the doctor was convinced that the baby would be born in a few hours after breaking the water. With a bit of reluctance, but a desire to get things moving, I agreed. Soon I was leaking fluid, waiting for the contractions to pick up speed and intensity. After all, breaking the bag of waters makes labor move quickly. At least in most cases. In mine, it seemed to make no difference at all.

The morning passed as I walked, rested, and bounced on the birthing ball. I knew it was still too early to get into the birthing tub, since the relaxing water can actually stall a slow labor. I walked as much as I could to keep things moving, but the varicose veins in my legs soon left me sore and longing to sit down. The best part of labor occurred when my husband wondered if he could blow up a non-latex examination glove like a balloon - and he did. We passed time batting the fingered balloon back and forth in an impromptu game I dubbed "High Five," until we finally lost our toy behind the bed.

All of our friends and relatives were waiting for the news that Lydia was here, but we didn't seem to be getting any closer, despite the continued contractions. At noon I thought about calling my mom just to check in, but decided to wait, lest she think the ringing phone was a birth announcement. My self-employed father-in-law insisted on doing his work from the hospital waiting room because he was so exciting about his granddaughter's birth. He kindly offered to go out and get me some soup, and even after he got delayed in a traffic jam, I had plenty of time to enjoy my lunch. My nurse, who started her shift shortly after we arrived, checked me and said I was still dilated 6cm, but she could stretch me to 7. When her shift ended, the next nurse thought I was at 7, but she could stretch me to 8. It appeared that progress was being made - very slow progress, but progress nonetheless.

At one point, I asked for my Bible and opened randomly to Psalm 103. I love that I can always find comfort in the Psalms. I was reminded to praise the Lord, that He satisfies our desires with good things, that He has compassion on His children, and that He knows how we are formed. The afternoon wore on, but I knew that God had a plan for this birth, and that I simply needed to wait on Him.

When the second nurse's shift started, the hospital policy was for me to spend a short time on the electronic fetal monitor, just as I had when we first came in. The nurse noticed a pattern of the fetal heartrate dropping during contractions. Although baby's heartrate always returned to normal, the significance of the drop was cause enough to keep me on the monitor - one of the interventions I had wished to avoid. With the use of telemetry, I was able to walk around the room, but I could feel the pressure mounting to hurry up and have this baby. Dr. M arrived back on the scene and checked my cervix. In her estimation, I was still at 6cm - no change from the morning. Her pronouncement: "You need pitocin, my friend."

I did not want pitocin. I wanted this baby to come out, on her own, in her own time. My sweet husband was prepared to advocate for me, knowing that I wanted to avoid interventions, but the doctor was not easily persuaded. After some discussion, Dr. M finally agreed to let me try natural methods for an hour; if that did not get things moving, we would start pitocin at 5:00.

I paced tearfully in my room, weighing the options. Would I protest the pitocin? I did not want a medically managed birth, yet I seemed to be on the road towards that very thing. The options of running out of the hospital or screaming a refusal of the synthetic hormone, though tempting, obviously would not help the situation, and would also cause stress for everyone. Don encouraged me to talk through my thoughts and emotions, but it was hard to put them into words. I did not like the way Dr. M had spoken to me; she seemed more concerned about getting the birth over with than about how I felt. The nurse was much more sympathetic, but admitted that ultimately she had to follow the doctor's orders.

More than anything, I was deeply regretting that we had come to the hospital so soon. Hadn't my plan been to labor at home for as long as possible in order to avoid this very situation? Why had I experienced those intense contractions that pushed me out the door at 4am, but now at 4pm the doctor claimed nothing was happening? One of the verses I had printed out for encouragement, Isaiah 66:9, ran through my mind: "Do I bring to the moment of birth and not give delivery?" says the LORD. "Do I close up the womb when I bring to delivery?" says your God. I trusted that God would bring this baby forth in His time. But how long would the Lord - and the doctors - allow this labor to continue before bringing me to the moment of birth? Would He grant me the delivery in time to avoid unnatural interventions?

Though Dr. M. was technically on call that day, Linda had been keeping tabs on me and had left instructions to call her when things picked up and I was ready to get into the birthing tub. While I was pacing the room, Linda called at Dr. M's request to explain things in her more gentle way. Pitocin, she said, is just a synthetic version of oxytocin, the hormone my body was already producing. She felt confident that I would only need a small amount, and that with ten to twelve good solid contractions, the baby would be on her way out. She also offered to stay with me until the baby was born, which was a much more comforting prospect than having the pushier Dr. M. attend my delivery. In addition, the nurse assured me that I could be in the tub even with the IV and fetal monitors required when administering pitocin. By the end of our conversation, I agreed to start a small dose if Linda would be there, so she said she would finish with her patients at the office and then join me at the hospital.

I was shaking - a sign of transition for some, but by the nurse's estimate, I was still less than 8cm. Don and the nurse started filling the deep birthing tub, and then it was time to insert my IV for the pitocin. The nurse tried to insert it in my left arm, but the vein kept rolling away, and even a second nurse could not get it to work. After a few painful jabs, they inserted it in my right wrist instead. Don assured me I was doing the right thing, and soon the tub was filled with hot water, ready for us.

As usual, Don put on his bathing suit and climbed into the tub with me. I am surprised to learn that most fathers do not get in the tub; for me, having my husband there to put counter pressure on my back is what makes contractions bearable. It was a bit awkward to get settled, with the IV hanging from one arm, the fetal monitor around my abdomen (continuous monitoring is required while pitocin is being administered), and frequent blood pressure checks (another requirement for pitocin). I managed to find a position where Don could push on my back during contractions, and my body remembered the familiar feeling of laboring in the water. Despite the intensity of the contractions, I could tell I was not close to the end yet - as I said to Don and Linda, I know that when I feel like I cannot possibly endure any more, that means that it is almost time to push. I had not yet reached that point, which told me I was not yet in transition. In addition, I found it strange that my stomach kept growling. I had read that once in active labor, most women lose their appetite. But as Don pointed out, my body was not following the books.

Between contractions, when I had to stop to close my eyes and breathe, I chatted with Don and with Linda, who was seated beside the tub, just as she had been for Donny and Hayden's births. Don commented that he and I should teach childbirth classes, since now we had done everything. I silently hoped that we would not actually experience everything in the realm of childbirth possibilities...after all, I still had never used pain medications or had a cesarean birth, and I was happy to keep it that way.

The warm tub water was soothing and freeing, but the monitors kept sliding around, forcing me to basically stay in one position so that my contractions and baby's heartbeat would register on the machine. Finally the nurse was having trouble finding the baby's heartbeat in any position, a problem that was reminiscent of my labor with Donny, but this time I didn't have a baby crowning. I did not mind getting out of the tub; I figured that I could always get back in later when it was time to push. Once I had dried off and was wrapped in warm blankets, Linda checked me. I was still at 6cm.

And according to Linda, instead of thinning like it normally does during labor, my cervix felt thicker. Baby's head was not pressing against it as it should have been, and without the pressure from baby, the cervix was not going to dilate enough to let baby through. A 10cm opening is required for birth, but for whatever reason, my body seemed to be stuck at 6. Linda thought perhaps the umbilical cord had tangled in such a way as to prevent baby from descending any farther. Knowing our children's history of umbilical cord entanglement, Don and I agreed that could be possible. I laughed when my gymnast husband suggested, "She's practicing the aerial silks with the umbilical cord." Meanwhile, the baby's heartrate continued to drop during each contraction. We decided to give it one more hour, but in the meantime, I breathed through each contraction as we all discussed and prepared me for the likely possibility of a C-section.

I had been in labor for two days, and there was no end in sight. With my membranes ruptured, there was an increased risk of infection as time wore on. I was stuck on the bed, hooked up to monitors and IVs, because it was the only way to make sure baby was safe. There was a good chance that the stress of continued labor could cause fetal distress. As much as I had never wanted to have a C-section, I was ready. The week when she was in breech position had given me a chance to, in some way, mentally prepare for this possibility. And now I wanted to be done with the painful contractions that were getting me nowhere. Don and I were sick of labor; we were ready to hold our baby girl. And we wanted to make sure she was safe. So I agreed to the cesarean, knowing that it would be the best - and possibly the only - solution for baby and me.

Even more than the thought of being cut open, the idea of an epidural always scared me - and of course, that was the anesthesia of choice for this operation. Thankfully, the anesthesiologist was friendly and reassuring. Sitting up to have the epidural inserted (and still contracting every few miutes) was the most difficult part for me, but it was not long before my legs felt warm and fuzzy. The anesthesiologist administered some anti-nausea medication, gave Don his scrubs, and by the time I was wheeled into the operating room, I was completely relaxed. When someone asked me how I felt, I could only reply, "Sleepy." In fact, when we got to the OR and all the people dressed in blue were introducing themselves and bustling about, I asked, "Can I go to sleep?"

The operation itself was painless. Dr. M performed the surgery, while another OB, Linda and several nurses assisted. Don stayed by my side, peeking over the curtain to watch his wife being cut open and his daughter lifted out of the womb. Within a few minutes, a newborn cry told us that Lydia was here. Finally. The little girl who was tangled in her cord and "sunny side up" was born at 9:36pm, right on her due date - June 11, 2009.

Don took pictures of our baby girl while the doctors sewed me up and congratulated us. Soon we were recovering back in the waterbirthing room, the room where both of our boys were born. I was still sleepy, but I stayed awake long enough to call my parents with the news and to nurse my sweet newborn. She latched on right away, and I rejoiced that finally, something was going right!

We had planned to name her Lydia Joy, using Grace as the middle name for our (Lord willing) second girl, and possibly others like Hope and Faith in the future. Yet in the hours and day following her birth, I was unsure. I still loved the name Joy and thought it sounded pretty with Lydia, but another name kept coming to mind: Faith. Honestly, the end result was the only part of this process that really involved joy. And even then, in the first few moments of life, Lydia was already scowling at the nurses - not exactly the perfect picture of Joy!

On the other hand, it was faith that brought us through this trial: Faith in a loving Father, faith that Lydia would be born in His perfect time, and in His way (which in this case, certainly was neither my time nor my way!). Afterwards, Linda told me that when they cut me open, my uterus was so thin that they could almost see through it. Had I continued to labor for many more hours, it could have ruptured, causing a life-threatening emergency for Lydia and me. No one had suspected this problem, nor would they have known about it if a C-section had not been performed, but God is His wisdom worked everything out for good. Though the method of birth was not what I would have chosen, it is clear that God's hand was in it - perhaps even holding Lydia back from the birth canal in order to spare our lives.

I thought I needed to trust God to persevere through the pain and intensity and unknowns of labor. And armed with a printed sheet of Bible verses, I was ready to do so. I never expected that He would test my faith in other ways; instead of just seeing how patiently and long I could endure regular contractions, He forced me to face my fears of medical interventions. Instead of trusting my body, and knowing that I wouldn't trust doctors, I had to place my hope in Him alone. And in the end, the Author of Life, the One who forms us in the womb, carried me through, and placed Lydia Faith safe in my arms.

Shortly before Lydia's birth, I read the birth story of Mrs. Parunak at Pursuing Titus 2, a similarly long and intense labor with a different ending. In her story, she mentioned 1 Peter 1:7, and it was snippets of this same verse that came to my mind in connection with Lydia's birth:

These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.

Despite my best laid plans, in the end, I got most of the things on my "wish to avoid" list. (I obviously avoided tearing, since I never got to the pushing stage, though I certainly was cut open! And I did not pass out after delivery, probably because it was a full day before I felt well enough to even attempt standing.) Maybe it was not fire, but this labor was certainly an exercise in faith. I am so thankful that the Lord protected both of us and blessed Don and me with a beautiful, healthy daughter. May the praise, glory, and honor be forever His!

She's Here!

2009-06-12T21:34:00.003-04:00

After a long and unpredictable labor, Lydia Faith was born on Thursday June 11, 2009 - right on her due date! She was 6 lbs. 15 oz. and 19 1/2" long. I'll share the lengthy birth story when I get a chance. For now, we are resting and recovering at the hospital and all are doing well, praise God!

From birth I have relied on you;
you brought me forth from my mother’s womb.
I will ever praise you.
Psalm 71:6

Almost Ready

2009-06-09T15:30:00.005-04:00

In case you were wondering, I don't have a new baby yet.

Instead, I have been busy getting ready for the new addition, keeping up with chores, and resting in preparation for the days to come. My due date is now two days away, but other than some Braxton-Hicks contractions in the evenings the past two weeks, I have not experienced any indications that labor is near. I wonder if this may be my first "late" baby, since Donny was born right on his due date and Hayden the day before. At the same time, I am not in a rush. I know my life is about to become much more busy and challenging, so I am enjoying this time with just my two boys - and my full nights of sleep.

Last weekend, I finally packed my hospital bags and overnight bags for the boys, completing one of the final steps of necessary preparation. I checked it off on the paper that has been hanging on my fridge since early spring, an ambitious list of projects that I hoped to tackle before baby's arrival. It is nice to feel a sense of accomplishment when looking over the items I have been able to complete, including:

- make doctor and dentist appointments for the boys and transfer the appropriate medical records
- organize hall and office closets
- dust window sills and corners (this was my limited attempt at spring cleaning)
- vacuum behind and under things (I vacuum exposed areas regularly, but once in a while it is a good idea to make sure nothing is growing behind the couch)
- rake front yard
- start seedlings for garden
- prepare garden area
- start compost pile
- get pool repaired and opened
- buy (and borrow!) maternity clothes
- research and purchase newborn diapers
- organize boys' clothes; put away winter and get out summer clothes
- write out birth plan (I finally did this just in time for my 39 week appointment!)
- sort, organize, and wash baby clothes
- get baby things out of attic; set up Pack N Play bassinet
- acquire vehicle to fit three car seats
- read Honey for a Child's Heart and The Duggars: 20 and Counting
- go to the zoo

I still have plenty of projects to keep me busy if I have the time: filing papers, sewing, freezing meals to eat after baby is born, organizing digital photos, working on my little garden. There will always be projects to do, but for now, I am feeling content. For the most part, we are ready for this little girl to arrive anytime in the next couple weeks. And then I will have many more things to add to my daily list...like snuggling a sweet newborn dressed in freshly washed pink clothes.