Grateful Acres

Henry in his happy place (on the tractor) Ruby in her happy place (in Daddy's arms, holding her own apple) Jonathan in his happy place (halfway up a cedar tree that I grew up playing in) Ya know how as Mommas we often feel like 97% of the stuff we say to our kids goes in one ear and out the other? So often they are moving so fast that I don't realize how much they retain as they wiggle and race and jump and motorcycle-noise circles around me. One of my boys retained and regurgitated something recently that really hit me. As he recited my words to his brother, I heard it differently and more deeply than I had meant it the first time. We were in the car going somewhere or another (seems like half the profound things any of us say happen to be said in the car...). All the kiddos were buckled into the back seat, and as we winded around the beautiful, scenic corners toward Daddy's shop, J leans toward H and says, "Brother, when we fight the devil wins....

I think it's about time for a family-update. Most of my writing is about all the things going on inside MY head... but all the while my children are growing and changing, and our family dynamic is growing and changing. I document the change going on in my heart because I don't want to forget the thoughts and processes that get me to each place, and family is the same. I don't want to look back someday and wonder how we got where we are... I want to have LOTS of memories, LOTS of pictures, and well, LOTS of blog posts :) Jonathan. He is settling in to life right now. He has the occasional rowdy streak or stubborn flair, but for the most part he is happy to run, to play, to wiggle and pretend and make helicopter/motorcycle/race car/monster truck noises. He loves to beat box (yes, my 5 yr old beat-boxes...), and is learning the lyrics to songs he hears a lot. He has moved to the grade-school Sunday school class at church, leaving Henry in charge of the preschool class ;)  A...

Josh took the boys to his shop with him so I could go to Roo's appointment just-me-and-her. I'm so grateful that he did, because waves of familiar fears came washing over my heart the whole way there, requiring my whole being to battle for the surrender to allow Christ to reign. A week or so ago Roo was diagnosed with a hernia, and I felt a tiny pang of fear. I had noticed it during a diaper change, and called out to our Creator. At her one-year appointment we showed it to her doctor, and he referred us to a Urologist. With each diaper change I felt fear rising, squeezing my lungs and throat a little more each time. I've tasted the bitter anguish of letting go of the child I held in my arms. I've prayed for healing, laying hands and begging from my knees for mercy. I've invested my whole heart in faith that the Healer could re-arrange genetics, undo a diagnosis, and breathe life where there isn't any.  I've tasted the unexplainable peace and strength t...

Last night all my kids were down and quiet by 8pm! I had cleaned the house Friday afternoon, and we were all gone the whole day on Saturday, so the house had stayed clean. There was only a small pile of laundry, we were caught up on our TV show, I didn't have any events to plan, he didn't have any worship sets to put together, no one was coming over, and neither of us were going anywhere. My husband and I wandered around our house a bit... not sure what to do with ourselves! Then I remembered something: I used to scrapbook! A little bit in shock, I pulled out some dusty stacks of photos and paper, stamps and ribbons, and spread them over the kitchen table. ((Do I remember how to do this??)) I glued some things down on an album I started a year or so ago, and then began to thumb though some old photos. Boy... the time has gone fast. As I flipped through the photos in my box, in backward chronological order, I watched as my kids' cheeks got chubbier... their legs got shor...

People always tell me to treasure my kids while they are little. In the middle of my exhaustion, piles of pee-saturated laundry, and sticky everything, I think "I am!". I DO drink in their smell when a sweaty little person pauses long enough to let me scoop them up on my lap. I DO kiss their sleeping cheeks every night, and breathe in deep, savoring the moment. I DO rock them to sleep as often as they will let me. I feel sad when each haircut makes them look older, and when each milestone gets passed. Sometimes I long for the freedom and quiet that will partially return as my kids take on more and more independence. Often I grow weary in the daily, nitty-gritty, constant training required in these early, road paving years. Most days I feel like the weight of the previous day has just barely lifted when the new day begins. But I'm learning that training hearts is much heavier (and scarier) than night-time feedings, or colic. It's much harder to teach (and model? :/...

All the chairs stood obediently in rows, except for a few pushed aside by a couple of hands-on, wiggly boys  that follow me everywhere I go ;) People came in a few at a time. Some surveyed the obedient chairs as they passed through the door way, scouting out a route to their desired location that didn't involve any of the usual empty, "Hi, how are you- I'm good how are you- good".  Other people ignored the chairs and scouted people instead. They mingled and laughed loudly, tugging their kids along.  Over the sound system the meeting was called to begin, and  the minglers joined the sitters in the unmoving rows of chairs. The music began, and little pockets of people began to engage. Hands were raised, people stood to their feet or hunkered down into a quiet place among the crowd. Corporately, yet individually, the people interacted worship-fully with their Creator.  The chairs used to be an invitation, with their open seats waiting to be occupied. The chairs...

Do you ever feel like sticky, fly-trap paper? Weird, I know. Let me explain: I log on to our online banking to transfer money and pay bills... a little bit of stress and anxiety presses against my heart. I finish and log off and move on to the next thing on my list. Screeches from the next room reveal that a few of my kids (whose names will remain... un-named?) are, in fact, fighting again. Frustrated, I turn down the heat on the burner, wipe my hands, and head toward them hoping I can deal with the issue before the pan burns. Someone woke up early from nap time, just as I was walking away from my to-do-during-naptime's and toward a few minutes of soul-rejuvenation. Weariness comes knocking, as I set aside the quiet time I craved to meet the needs of someone a little smaller, and with a few less tools for life. In just three encounters that were maybe three minutes each, this is what stuck: stress, anxiety, frustration, and weariness. Sometimes my sticky paper gets full ...