Grateful Acres

My boy leaned his warm, wiggly body against mine. He really doesn't fit on my lap anymore, but I squeeze him on anyway. His legs dangle most of the way down mine, and his upper body just barely fits against my chest. The worship team started a new song, and his little hands reached to wrap my arms around his stomach. He wanted to be held tight, and he settled deeper against me. I was singing, and I knew from when I was a child that he could feel the vibrations of my song against his body. Something about holding your child during worship makes the whole scene more vibrant... it engages my heart differently than when I'm alone. Then I felt something beautiful against my palm- the vibrations of HIS little voice! I squeezed his chest a little tighter against mine, and in unison our voices (and hearts) sang to our Creator. It was so brief, and so, so beautiful! I was struck by the symbolism of what I had experienced: that must be a taste of what God feels when our hearts are li...

Remember a couple summers ago when I wrote a post about Ruby's birth story, and the week of  emergency room craziness that ensued immediately before? Insane Birth Story, Second Edition: LilyAnne's fluid levels had been low for a month or so, so we were attending bi-weekly appointments to do stress tests and ultrasounds to keep tabs on everything going on inside. Jonathan begged each appointment for me to request that the doctor "get her out" at that appointment, because he just "neeeeeeeeds, to see how cute she is!".  All the kids were with us at our last appointment when we got the diagnosis of "fluid levels too low, go induce", and Jonathan let out some excited yells, "YEEEEESSSS!!! YEEEES!!" Everyone's excitement level immediately went through the roof, and mine was accompanied by a mild amount of this-is-going-to-hurt-so-bad panic :) We took some fun family shots right before going in to document our excitement (can ...

Last month Josh and I celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary! Some dear friends of ours met up with us for dessert on our night out, and ended the evening by praying over us (it was awesome). They thanked God for the seven years He's given us, and asked Him to bless the next seven. That got me thinking about the number seven... on the "seventh day" God rested. So I began asking God to bless this  year with REST.  In our first year of marriage we moved, got pregnant, and I quit my job. Just barely into our second year we had Jonathan, and Josh dipped his toes into youth ministry. In our third year we had Henry, moved, and bought a business (that year was NUTS!). In our fourth year we began gutting and remodeling a house with Josh's parents. In our fifth year we briefly held Evelyn, moved again, and switched churches. In our sixth year we had Ruby, bought a new machine for our business, dove head first into youth ministry and worship ministry. In our seventh yea...

This has been one strange pregnancy. Baby girl looks fabulous, is measuring to a decent size (and by decent I mean she may be a big one!), and is moving happily and peacefully in her warm, safe space. My body, however, has been on the fritz. The first two go-arounds (haha, get it...) were textbook-boring. My doctor teased me about it each appointment, lovingly, and with deep wisdom. I had some usual aches and pains, weak bladder, swelling, 18-point-turn to roll over at night, but I passed every test, and nothing alarming or unusual happened at all. Raising my boys has given me lots of grey hair already, but carrying them was the least of it! Most of you know my story with Evelyn. Carrying her was more a spiritual season than a physical one. I passed the 28 week mark this pregnancy a handful of weeks ago (28 weeks was when I delivered Evelyn), and thought of her. I looked at my round belly and all that comes with that, and remembered how different her presence inside me was. Her...

I'm sure you've seen birds fly in "V" formation.  Know why? The bird in front breaks the wind, and the flapping of it's wings generates an updraft for the birds behind, making it easier for them to fly. Birds rotate being the front-bird so that each can have a turn working to lead the pack, and have time to rest in the updraft of another.  Birds also have to be positioned strategically in order to gain the updraft rather than the accompanying down-draft. Their wings have to be in sync with each other, and close together. Read about it here, if you like... http://www.bbc.com/news/science-environment-25736049 This week my man was a front-bird. He and I have the joy of leading worship together often, and in the days proceeding his turn leading, we feel the resistance. There is so much joy in what we do together, him as the front-bird in worship, and me close behind him- surveying the open sky before us, feeling the support and resonance of the rest of the fl...

Sometimes I walk through the mud. I feel it forming thick clumps on the bottoms of my shoes, and seeping, creeping up my pant legs. After a little while I stop trying to keep the mud to a minimum, and get a little careless- letting the muck and grime splash up on the hem of my shirt. It seeps and creeps there, too, and I start to feel suffocated by it. Finally I abandon all cleanliness and knowingly wipe dirt from my hands across my face, feeling rather immersed and far from a spotless, sparkling bride.  Sometimes the progression from mostly-clean to complete-mess takes me months to accomplish, and sometimes it happens in the first 3 minutes of my day. I know too well the sinking feeling of the first splashes of darkness. When I come to get clean I have another set of choices to make: Do I turn my head down in the sink and splash my face clean... I feel a little better, refreshed enough to move on for a short while before the rest of me cries out to be washed. Do I ta...

  There's something strikingly special that happens in our hearts when a child of our own chooses to rest in our embrace. The man carried his world on his shoulders. The load was heavy, but he is strong. His heart and his muscles ached under the weight as he diligently, relentlessly held fast. The man stepped through the door into a busy, noisy, life-filled living room. His attention was immediately drawn to the smallest child, who did her best to keep up with the rest. She wanted to always be front-and-center, always in the middle, never left out. She was full of life and spunk and mystery. Her little mind and mouth couldn't form words yet, but her eyes were beautiful windows into her teeming, joyful heart. The man bent to the little girl and offered wordlessly to lift her into his arms. She accepted, and up she went- he lifted her many times higher than she could stand on her own, and she felt safe in the strength of his big frame. Suddenly being small felt good, and sh...