Grateful Acres

"Mom? ...MOOOOOOMMMMMMM" "I'm changing a diaper, Bud, what do you need?" "I need youuuuuuuuu." "Hold on, I need to wash the poop off my hands..." "I need you NOW- the toilet is overflowing!!" I run up the stairs, hoping the freshly-changed toddler doesn't follow and fall down the stairs. After that I thought maybe I'd actually pour that cup of coffee. But then the toddler dumped mini, plastic hair ties all over the other bathroom floor, and the preschooler needed to go potty. Ok, that coffee. But it was really quiet... where's the toddler? (She was dumping out Great Grandma's jewelry in the master bedroom) "Mommy, hold me please?" "Can we have pancakes?" (says the boy that has already gotten out a bowl and spoon and ingredients, and placed them on top of the stack of bills on the counter) Hang on, guys, I want to pour my coffee. "Mommy, hold me?" Then came the

I recently wandered back through some things I wrote in real-time while walking through some of the tougher parts of my slice of life. In small ways my emotions re-felt each wave... joy, beautiful memories of the boys when they were small, anxiety, waiting, resolve, peace, growth, love, relationship, heartbreak, and the nearness of God. I was the most struck by the nearness and ENORMITY of God. I read some things that were written from all the perspective I had at the time, and now that those things are over I can see what GOD was doing in the middle of it. He was there, He was active, His heart was as deeply involved in my life as mine was. I pushed the laptop aside, and flopped back on my couch in the dark, and stared at the ceiling, looking for Him. As His face leaned down toward mine, I was reminded of waves of history, like swells crashing onto shore in my mind. When my Grandparents were born, He was there. When our country began, He was there. Back through the generations,

Sometimes I feel Him calling to me. I'm bustling about with all my daily usual and the hubub of a home that is teeming with life, and this voice like a gentle wind winds it's way past my cheeks. He calls to me until I respond. Morning snuggles, a bottle, some cereal... He calls me still with that wind. Schoolwork, housework, washing diapers, He calls to me. When I turn my attention to the wind I feel a sudden urge to gather my tool belt. My instinct is to grasp at my sword and strap on my traveling boots- the King is calling for me to follow Him, and I prepare for battle, for adventure and dazzling sights. He is Magnificent, a mighty and powerful King- always advancing His beautiful, victorious kingdom, and I'm thrilled to be invited along! What are we doing today, my King? He takes me gently forward, to the most unexpected of places. His mind is not on high slopes or raging rivers, He takes me in to the garden. In where the vines grow over my head and I'm shaded

I've stepped into a new place, laced with both familiar and unknown. Familiar is the wind sweeping and slashing around me, blowing bits of past and future in unpredictable swirls, messing up my hair and pulling at any loose clothing. Familiar is the resolve of muscles held tight in their place, and familiar is the sword raised above my head. Familiar is the stake I drive into the ground before me, the refusal to turn from the truth I know and taste, despite the storm. The unknown stands before me now, that wind still stirring and messing, pushing at my frame. The unknown is a softening inside me- not the kind of softness that allows for doubt, but the kind that gives way to unclenched muscles and a crumpled form on the ground. It's the kind of softness that feels vulnerable and... unknown. The truth is still in my eyes, but my posture has changed. Most of my being wants to rise up and raise that sword, stepping back into the stance of contending that I know so well. But thi

Their selfie, taken after my eavesdropping was discovered Most of today was rather normal: the usual sibling squabbles, the usual morning snuggles, the usual, the usual, all the usual. But part of today nearly caused my heart to explode. I had mostly cleaned up lunch, and was beginning to prepare an emotionally confused Princess for some quiet time in her castle. Two little boys strutted through in only their underwear, and I snagged them on their way by, "Um... what are you doing?" [Usually underwear-only is a sign of great mischief, so I was on high alert.] "Mom, we need to work out so we're strong so we can protect you and our sisters, and then we need to pray." [These are actual words. Verbatim.] I led that half giggling, half melting Princess into her bed for a solo tea party with her dollies, and began preparing little Butternut Squash for her nap. In the meantime those underwear-clad boys redressed themselves, went into their room and closed

I've been whispering to God lately that I want to write again soon. It's something I love to do, and I often feel something bubbling inside that when it rises to fill enough of me it spills out onto this blog to be shared. But lately as things stir inside I've felt that writing hasn't been the right outlet. Some of that is that God is teaching me to minister in-person, on-the-spot, in uncharted waters. He's stretching me beyond the comfort of being able to re-read my word choices before posting, and beyond the comfort of processing something with Him extensively before sharing. He's teaching me to have confidence in knowing His voice, and to respond right away without fear. ("teaching", not "taught"... I have a lot to learn!) This week the urge to write has been stronger, and I've been searching and asking Him where to go. I have felt Him calling, calling, and I come to Him and He doesn't give me any instructions. He calls again and