Grateful Acres

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...

He bumps his boundaries with a battering ram. Each pound is harder, but the boundary remains steadfast, inflicting all the damage of each collision onto him. Abrasions and scrapes become deep bruises and breaks. He bumps the boundaries no matter the pain because he is looking for the edge of his domain. He is looking for freedom and safety, purpose and his name. Her little eyes squeeze tight, and that sweet little mouth hangs open in sobs. She lets her lower half limp and drag, lowering herself to the nearest solid surface. Emotion springs from a tiny prick, cracking and shattering her little vessel with explosions of unnecessary pain. She can't see beyond her tears, so the whole world feels temporarily sour. She, too, needs safety, warmth, embrace. The front door opens, and someone very special walks in. There is no need to call for them- everyone knows. They drop everything, jump down from their places and run! His embrace fits them all at once, sweaty, messy, mop-top and a...

I searched and searched and I simply cannot find in photo form what I saw. This is the closest. The floor was clean and smooth, and indescribably shiny. I was wearing white, and I couldn't see Him, but He was there right before me. He offered his arms and I accepted. The muscles in my back still felt the tightness of holding a sleeping baby, and she wiggled and smashed her nose into my chest. My six year old's feet swung and kicked the chair next to me in time with the music. Every thing and every one else faded and we were all that was left, and that shiny floor. He swept me gracefully, smoothly around in a fairytale dance, singing love over me. My body just rested and breathed, and  I heard only His  voice, echoing deeply through the open room.  I experienced a strange overlap of the spiritual and physical for just a short time during church this morning, and it was beautiful.  The spiritual is just as real as the physical, and I feel MORE alive w...

Time for a family update! Something rather unusual happened this morning. I woke up before anyone else (baby went back to sleep after her early-morning feeding, and I stayed awake), and after I stumbled around our semi-dark kitchen for awhile preparing my coffee, Jonathan came downstairs. The sunrise was beautiful and pink, and it was such a rarity to have Jonathan wake up first. Normally Henry is the first one up, and he's been gifted with lots of volume, so most mornings he wakes up J and almost everyone else :) Sissy often manages to sleep through the commotion of two not-so-little boys starting their day, and likes to lay in her bed and talk to herself, snuggle her zebra, and I think enjoy the only portion of her day that will be quiet and alone. Jonathan and I snuggled up onto the couch for a few quiet minutes. His body is so big now- his head comes up past my shoulder, and his feet stretch down next to mine. His hands are getting rougher, and his arms and legs have young ...