time marches on

Y'all. It's been too long.

Moving was hard. Settling in was even harder. But I can honestly come to this space now, nearly four months later, and tell you that life is good. So, so good. We still miss our Ohio friends and family something fierce and those rolling hills will always hold a piece of our hearts, but Kansas is now home. And I LOVE that our family of friends is expanding and there is not much cooler than looking at a map and seeing all of the different dots that represent people and places that we love. I never in a million years dreamed that Wichita would be one of our dots, but God did and I fully believe that he has been preparing us for this time and place for years.

Our family just returned from a life changing experience, also known as Tulsa Workshop. Never in my entire life have I ever seen so many Christians gathered in one place. The singing.... there are not words to describe it, except to say that I felt a tiny thrill at the thought of what it will perhaps sound like when we all finally gather in heaven before the throne of God. It was amazing. And the speakers were inspiring, encouraging us to count the cost that is following Christ, but reminding us that there is no greater calling than to live our lives for him. But my favorite part? My most favorite part was walking amongst all of the booths representing different organizations from around the world that are committed to furthering the message and the love of Christ. Carpenter Place had a booth set up and Boss did a fabulous job of sharing his passion for what he does with others. There were also booths for disaster relief, and baby houses in Africa, and Adventures in Missions, and really, too many passions and callings were represented to name them all. There is nothing I love more than people who are following Christ, and within those bounds, following their own passions and dreams. It's beautiful to me, and it reaffirms that we are all here with different strengths and different callings, but for one purpose: to point to him in all we do. It was a great weekend and one that will be filling my soul in the weeks to come.

This coming Wednesday we will pack up our crew once more and head to Ohio for CCFSA's annual children's home conference. To say I am thrilled that Mid Western Children's Home is hosting the conference this year would be an understatement. I often want to pinch myself to make sure that this new life we are living is real. But it feels good and it feels right and I am excited to see what God has in store for our family in the months to come.

Did you know that our oldest son turned four last week? Oh yes, he did. Sometimes, when I am tired, I think about what life would be like if we had stopped having children after the girls. Can I admit this? There would be no more diapers and no more bottles. And no one would need help buckling their seat belt and we would all sleep blissfully through the night. Sicknesses would not hang around our home as long, with fewer people to pass the germs too, and sometimes Satan tries to convince my tired self that this big family idea is a crazy one. But then God gently reminds me that children were his idea in the first place, and if we had never had the boys then there would be less laughter in our home and far fewer kisses. I would not have a little gentleman who loves to open doors for 'his girls' and who dances with me in the kitchen when one of my favorite songs comes on. There would not be superheroes flying around my living room at any given hour of the day and I would never step on Lego's or Matchbox cars. Without my sons, life would be less loud and joyful and full, and I am forever thankful that four years ago God saw fit to make me a boy mama for the first time.

What else? Boss is working long hours, but when you are following your heart it never really feels much like work. The girls are happy. They are in ice skating and Kate is playing soccer for the YMCA (that's a cool story in and of itself that I will have to share sometime, reminding me once more that God is in the details). Luke has finally started crawling and it's pretty stinking adorable. Always needing to do things in his own way and in his own time, Luke has his own little way of getting around. He crawls with both of his hands and his left knee, but he drags his right leg along like a little gimp. He is the best and I often times find myself wanting to smooch him all over. I still dream of more babies filling our home, but only God knows how our baby story will wind up, and for the first time in a long time I can honestly say that I am content with letting him write our story however he sees fit. (As if he needed me to say that. Ha.)

So that's what we have been up to.... in a nutshell. Sometimes our days are full, sometimes they are slow. Sometimes we do school, sometimes we don't and opt for real life learning over the workbooks. Sometimes we are positive and hopeful, and sometimes we are weary and tired. But we are always trusting that God has a plan and that he is worthy to hold the pen in the writing of our family story. Thank you, as always, for sharing in our lives.

settling in

So. We moved.

We actually did it. Two months ago our family pulled away from our beloved Ohio hills and we now call the great plains of Kansas home. It has been an adventure, for sure. This jumping and trusting that God will catch you is not for the faint of heart. Tears have been shed, loneliness endured, and a general stretching has been felt by each person in our family. The first week we were here, I would rise early each morning with a pounding heart. The darkness would surround and I would wonder what in the world we had just done. What were we thinking to leave our family, our community, our safety net behind? But deep breaths and long talks with Boss helped to ease the pain and the fear deep within. And prayer. Prayer sustained me those dark mornings and I wondered once more where people who do not know God find comfort. Because amidst all of the change, my relationship with God and my family are my forever constants.

But other things (namely ice cream, ahem) helped, too. In a place totally new I can still hang a familiar picture on a wall and feel at home. I can walk into a church building, sit on pews and sing songs and read scripture that I know, and feel at home. I can still go to Target, order a tall Chai tea with soy, and browse the isles and feel at home. Because (in our family) home is more of a feeling within. Home is traditions, and comfort foods, and discussions with those that you love, more than it will ever be a particular place. This I am learning.

So that is what these past two months have been. A slowing down, an embracing of our more quiet days, a strengthening of our dependence on God and each other. And as we are slowly beginning to leave the moving fog behind, I can honestly see that though the process has been hard, it has also been good. And I am still confident that being right here in the center of the United States, has put our family directly in the center of God's will for our lives in this particular season.

You should know that Boss is perhaps the happiest I have ever seen him. He is more energized, more full of life, and more excited about how he now spends his days than ever before. It's amazing how dreams realized can inspire a person towards greatness! Sometimes we pinch ourselves to make sure we are not still dreaming, and then we smile because we remember that this new life is our real life. And we thank God for the blessings. The children have made some new friends and are hopeful for more to come. Each new week brings more smiles and fewer tears. Every Tuesday afternoon the three big kids lace up ice skates and head to the rink for lessons. We figured a bold new move required being bold and trying our hand at a brand new skill! I am so proud of how my children, despite their sadness at saying goodbye to the old, are embracing the new and are discovering more of who God has created them to be in the process.

I count my children as one of my greatest blessings in this life and I am most thankful for the closeness and the amount of time we have spent together as of late. Our lives were good in Ohio, but they were busy. And sometimes, amidst the crazy busy of all things good, it is so easy to lose sight of what matters most. But our new, quiet days are bringing us back to the very best, and that is time spent together. I am sure as the months pass and our lives and connections here begin to expand, the busy will creep back in, but for now I am thanking God for this current quiet season we are in.

As for me? I am enjoying lazy mornings with a warm blanket curled around and a big mug of coffee in hand. Having no place to go most days has done wonders for the stress the last decade of being a grown up had brought into my life, and I am enjoying my mornings with my children like never before. I am loving taking the time to stare at my tiny baby who is growing bigger. We practice standing, and crawling, and we laugh and clap hands. Clapping is a new favorite. My little guy has finally gotten his first tooth, and I am trying to relish it all.... the daily small things that so often go unnoticed in the busyness of a full life. We still do school around the table each day, and there is more time for explaining long division and reading aloud. I must confess that I have felt burn out on the teaching front, but as of this last week, we seem to have found our groove once more.

The move has been hard, but it has also been good. A clean slate, if you will. A chance to slow down, regroup, and press on towards those things that are most important. I just wanted to let you all know that we are still here and all is well. We are settling in to this new life we are living and we thank God daily for directing our steps.

darling daughters

(Sisters. Best Friends.)

My darling daughters. It's late. I should be sleeping, but I cannot rest. My heart is sad, because your hearts are sad, and it's a fact that mama's hurt when their babies hurt. In three days we pull away from the only place you have both ever known as home, and tears are falling daily at the thought of saying goodbye to all that you love. To all that is comfortable and familiar to you.To all that has made you, you. And it's scary.

And my secret is that I'm scared, too.

I have NO idea if we have made the right decision. All I know is that I see God's hand everywhere, and I felt more pain at the thought of saying 'no' to God, than I did when I thought of saying goodbye. So we go, and it feels like your lives are over, but I promise you that they are not. In fact, your lives are really just beginning. In Ohio your roots dug in deep, grounding you to your God and to our family. But in Kansas? In Kansas, I pray that you learn to fly.

Because here's the thing.

You're still you. No matter where you go, you are still you and we are still us. And God is already there, so what is there to fear? And even though it looks like nothing good could possibly come of the next three days, when you feel despair my darling daughters, I want you to remember the cross. Remember that once the entire world lost hope, too. And when it seemed like everything was darker than dark, really, the miracle was just beginning. Because on the third day, Christ ROSE from the dead! And it was nothing the world could have ever imagined, but it was EXACTLY what this broken world needed. It took death for the new life to come, and it's the same for us. We are saying goodbye to the old, so that God can create something new. But we have to go all in. No holding back. We must give our all, if we desire God's hand to be over all.

And I am thankful, my darling daughters, that God gave you the gift of each other. The road is so much more bearable if we do not have to travel it alone. Lean on each other. Support each other. Make each other laugh when you only feel like crying. And when you think you might have lost your way, just reach out your hand. Your sister will be there to grab on tight.

Girls. Remember where you came from. Remember the people that you love, this place that you love. Store the memories up in your heart. Memories of porch times and frog catching, learning to ride your bikes around and around the circle and cookie baking with the big girls. But remember to leave room for new people and new places, too. I promise you that your heart is big enough to hold it all, both the old and the new. Remember that God KNOWS the plans that He has for your life and remember that God is good. He can be nothing else.

My darling daughters, a new chapter is beginning. And with this new chapter comes a new setting, a new cast of characters. But your story remains the same. God is only adding to it, making it more rich, and more beautiful, and more vibrant than the chapter before. One day you will have the pleasure of looking back and seeing how God has woven your story together, page after page, but today is not that day. So today we just grab hands, and press on. And we remember that the miracle is just beginning.

the one on hats

For 31 years I have worn hats.

 

Many years and many hats. And it's funny, because I'm not really even a hat girl. Sure, some of the hats I wore well for awhile before tossing them to the side. Some of the hats I tried out were attractive and suited my personality, but others were a complete bust. A totally wrong fit. Not the look that I was going for at all. And some of the hats I timidly tried out in the past, I still wear today. Now a completely comfortable fit, they are a part of who I have become.

I wear the hat of 'wife', and I do believe that hat suits me well. Sometimes wife looks attractive on me, and other times not so much, but I am learning as I go that it is not really about how I look in that hat anyway. It's about him, the other half to my whole. My partner. I don't wear the hat of wife to make myself look good. I wear my wife hat for Boss. To bring warmth to his life.

I wear the hat of 'mother'. Definitely a hat I tried on timidly at first, but now you couldn't pry that hat from my head if you tried. And sometimes my mom hat is frumpy, and it flops to the side, and certainly there are times it has seen better days. But sometimes my mom hat is so colorful and bright and I know in my soul that the best years are still to come. I love both versions of my mom hat because they are me on this journey, and I will wear that proudly all the days of my life.

I wear the hat of 'Christian'. You notice that I place this hat third, and not at the top of the list where it rightly belongs. This in the name of honesty. Because the truth is that my Christian hat gets pushed down. Every day. All the time. It's somewhere at the bottom of my increasingly crammed closet, but I do make sure and pull it out for special occasions. Like Sundays. And when I need something. I definitely wear my Christian hat when I need something. And it fits awkwardly, like it's not actually sure if it belongs on my head or not, but I slap it on anyway and hope that it fits 'good enough' to fool the masses, without ever really stopping to consider the fact that it does not fool God.

I wear other hats, too. I wear the 'homeschool mom' hat and the 'mom of a big(ish) family' hat. I wore my 'foster parent' hat for seven years. I have tried on the 'photography' hat and the 'runner' hat (that was perhaps the funniest hat of all), before deciding that neither hat was for me. I have worn the hat of both 'nursing mother' and 'bottle mother' and honestly, I liked both looks (gasp, to admit that in written word). I have never worn the 'have your child on a schedule' hat. I should wear the hat of 'homemaker' and 'cook' more often than I do. I wear the hat of 'reader' quite often, because other's hats always seem to be better looking than my own. I dream of wearing a 'writer of words that people read' hat. And if nothing is looking quite right on any given day, in any given season, at any moment of the year, then I go shopping for new hats. Because heaven forbid I should leave the house with a naked head. Because then people might see the exposed me, and then they will know. If I don't have a hat to hide behind, then people will know the truth: that I have no clue who I am.

For 31 years I have worn hat after hat, all in the name of finding myself.

And then yesterday, this:

"I stopped trying to find myself and decided to seek God." - Mark Batterson from his book All In.

To think that it really could be that simple. That there really might be a divine reason that I actually don't look good in a variety of different hats. To think that less really is more, and God really is more than enough. To think that in the releasing of the hats is where I would find God, and in Him is the very me I have been searching for all along. Oh, goodness gracious, the freedom I think I could find if I could really let it all go.

And simply seek God.

It's worth a shot, I do believe.

Lookout, Kansas, my naked head just might be coming your way.

the story of kansas

(Image found HERE)

So. Have you heard? Our family is moving to Kansas.

Oh, goodness gracious. Kansas! Three weeks from today, our family of six will pack up this darling duplex and head west to a state that never before existed to me outside of the Wizard of Oz (one of my girlies favorites, thanks to their Grandma).

I wish we could go to a cute corner coffee shop, grab a cup of chai tea, and I could share with you all of the incredible ways God has made himself known in this move. For sure and for certain, I've never known His presence more than I have in these past several weeks. It's a crazy peace that I have, despite the sadness of saying goodbye to our home and our family who will remain in these Ohio hills. But the way that I see it.... is that sometimes you just have to jump. In order to make room for God to work, in order to chase a crazy dream, in order to be obedient to God's call, sometimes you just have to jump and trust that He will catch you on the way down. So, we're jumping.

The crazy dream began nearly a decade ago.

 Boss and I were newly married, our oldest was then a one year old baby, and we were already tired of climbing this worlds never ending ladder. We were tired of the long hours spent on things that held no meaning, tired of spending our days, hours, minutes on gaining possessions we are promised will pass away. We longed for purpose. So, we flew to Albuquerque, New Mexico and there we found what we were looking for. We flew to Albuquerque to become house parents, to live with children who were not our own. Children who had been handed a rough lot in life and who needed the love and structure that only God's design of the family can fill. We served in Albuquerque for two years under the direction of a good man. A quiet leader with a sparkle in his eyes. Ivy Harper taught us what it meant to be selfless, to spend your days giving away the best that you had to offer to a hurting world. Ivy has passed on from this world now, but I wish that we had told him how his leadership greatly impacted our lives. How he shaped our vision for the future. I wish Ivy could know how he touched the life of my husband. From the very first time that Boss sat across from him in his home office, he knew that one day he wanted to lead like Ivy. And when he came to bed that night he told me as much. But we were young, and restless (and more than a little bit foolish), and after almost two years we moved on. We moved here, to our home in Ohio, where we have served with Mid Western Children's home for the past seven years. Mid Western is more 'home' to me than anywhere else on this earth, and our years here have been some of the best of our lives, I'm sure. But the dream of leading never left Boss' heart.

Fast forward to the middle of this past September, and a few crazy connections and one Christian Chronicle ad later and Boss had applied to be the CEO of Carpenter Place, a Christian children's home in Wichita, Kansas. Two days later they called for a phone Interview and two weeks after that we were heading down as a family to visit Carpenter Place in person. And all I can say is that God was there. We saw Him all over the campus, in the faces of the people that we met. And while our hearts literally broke at the thought of leaving 'home' and the life that we have built here, there is no denying that God was saying GO. So when they called to offer Boss the job, we said YES.

During his interview they asked Boss 'why Wichita'? And Boss answered, why Houston? Why Albuquerque? Why Pleasant Plain? Because we go where God calls. We try and follow His leading. We jump and trust that He will catch us on the way down.

That's the story of how Kansas came to be. That's the story of Boss' dream come true. And we are confident that right in the middle of the United States is right where God wants us to be.

So, we jump.

made for more

It's that time of year again. The time of year where the Boss man heads back to work, big yellow buses begin to roll by, and children everywhere head back to the classroom. Unless you are one of my crew. And then you stay home.

When Boss and I first made the decision to home educate (over four years ago, now), we knew there would be things we would be asking our children to 'give up'. The special first day of school excitement, the holiday classroom parties, skipping with a best friend to the playground after lunch, and the general feeling of goodness that comes with being a part of something that is larger than yourself. And sometimes when I think about it for too long, even four years later, I still get sad that my children are not a part of those things. I worry we have scarred them in some way by keeping them from the traditional American way of life.

But then I am reminded.

Deep in my heart I am reminded that my children were made for more than this world. They were put here for a purpose, to embrace their calling as a Christ follower should they choose to give Him their lives, to fulfill the plans that God has for them. Plans that include knowing God more and more each day and pointing others to Him on their journey. My children were not put here to get caught up in all of the current cultural trends, to be swept along with the world as it spins madly around and around again. And for all that my children have had to 'give up', there is one thing that they have gotten to keep. Each other. Our family does life together. Every single day, all day. The good, the bad, and the ugly of it. And that is what I love most about this journey of home education. I love that we do it together.

I know there are those who do not believe home education is for them. And personally, I am good with that. We all have different stories, different heart stirrings, and I believe if we are committing our ways to the Father he will guide us in the direction we should go. But for us, homeschooling provides the hope that we can hang on to our children's fragile hearts. For us, homeschooling allows us the day in and day out opportunity to mold the little people God has blessed us with into men and women of big faith. Soon enough our children will fly the nest and our steadfast prayer is that they will fly stronger and more assuredly because of their years spent in our home.

This year our focus is books, books, books. We will squeeze core work in, too, but the majority of our time will be spent with our noses in the cover of a good book. I want my girls to read solid stories about ordinary people who turned their lives over to an extraordinary God. I want them to see that God has had a plan all along. For his creation, for the people that lived in Bible times, for the country that we live in today. And I want my daughters to be inspired, to know that God has a plan for them, too. We will read about Christopher Columbus and Anne Frank. George Washington and Helen Keller. We will see how God continually uses faithful people to fulfill His purposes time and again and really, is there a greater lesson that my children could ever learn? I don't think so, and I am excited to see where this year will take us.

I don't know where you are in the story of your own life, but I want to dare you to dream BIG. To hand the writing of your story over to the very Author who created you in the first place. It is our prayer and the focus of our family this school year. The constant handing over of the pen, and then handing it over once again. And who knows? The beautiful chapter that we (you) have been longing for might only be but a page away.

on making it count

Beginnings are usually scary, endings are usually sad, but it’s what’s in the middle that counts. (Hope Floats)

And that's where I am in life. In the glorious middle, striving and hoping every single day to make my days count. My middle finds me in Ohio, married to a really good man. A really good man that I do not deserve. He folds laundry and sweeps floors and washes dishes and changes diapers and earns the paycheck. He tells me that I am beautiful and he dances in the living room with our daughters and he makes our boys smile. I take him for granted and I shouldn't. My middle finds me the mama to four children, and my oldest is nine and most days pass too quickly for comfort. Because the only thing growing faster than my children's bodies are their feet, and the screen door swings open as they exit with the early morning sun and it doesn't swing back shut until that morning sun is setting low. And there are bellies to be filled and baths to be had and then it is off to bed with a kiss and an I love you. And as another day passes I wonder aloud, did this one count? Did I make the most of my day, my time, my life? Because you only get one. One life to make count. And the truthiest truth is that most days I feel like I didn't. I slept too long or sat too long or spent too many minutes reading about other's grand lives while wishing mine was something other than what it is, instead of determining to make my one life the happy that I dream of.

I read on a sign today that bold change requires bold commitment. And I want that bold change in my life. In the story of our family. Not change in our setting. Our setting is my happy place. And not change in our cast of characters. I wouldn't trade my family and friends for the world. The bold change that I long for is a bold change inside of me that spills outward and up and all around. The bold change that takes someone (me) from merely existing through life to fully embracing it. Because I am tired of busy and debt and extra weight. And I am tired of snappy tones and frustration and discontent. And I am tired of just 'waiting' until this or that happens and then and only then can our happy begin. Because our happy is now. Right here in this glorious middle. And I fear we are living some of our very best days and we don't even know it, because we are living our days in this world that is spinning out of control.

In the heavenly realm the first are last and the last are first. Less is most definitely always more and God is always more than enough. He is everything. But most days I don't choose to live with a heavenly mindset. I choose to get caught up in the current of our culture. Our world where the first and the prettiest and the wealthiest are the most important and where we can never have enough. Of what, I don't actually know. I live in a realm where God seems nice, but it doesn't seem like he is really real. At least not in an alive and active kind of way. So I walk around in this world where we have it all wrong, and I continually bump my head as I try to turn myself around. Because this world I am living in is exhausting and in the inner most places of my soul I know that I was made for more.

And so that is what I am seeking. This more. This more of God. And scripture says that if I empty myself before him then he will fill me up. And that if I seek him I will find him. And it will take bold commitment but it will be worth it for bold change. Bold change in this glorious middle where I currently find myself, so that at the end of my days I can find that they did indeed count.

glass half full

A summer afternoon rain is falling, lightly tap tapping against the windows.  On the stove sits a flickering candle, filling our darling duplex with scents of cranberries and orange. Light quilts are tucked around, soft piano music fills the air, and my littlest love is resting peacefully on my lap. And for the first time in weeks, my heart feels totally and completely full. Full of goodness and hope and joy.

I am, by nature, a glass half full kind of soul. But for the past several weeks my cup bordered on empty. It made no sense. God had answered our prayer for a new home, and a new baby boy was in my arms. Boss and I celebrated ten years of love in May and we are constantly surrounded by good, good friends who inspire us on a daily basis to live life sold out for the Lord.. Our four children are healthy and happy and growing .

I could count my joys, but I could not feel them.

I just hadn't felt like me. Not since we brought our little one home from the hospital some two months ago. Some might have called it the baby blues. Some might have said it was exhaustion wearing me thin. And I don't know what it was, but the longer my cup bordered on empty, the greater my thirst for more became. And I began to feel as though the life I was living did not matter in the grand scheme of things.

On paper my days are nothing significant. I have no grand title or degree. I am a mother.  I nurse babies and wipe bottoms. I put peanut butter on bread and I peel apples. I correct character in my children and wipe away tears caused by hurt feelings. I visit with friends, spend too much time on the Internet, and avoid doing the laundry at all costs. This is how I spend my days. And recently, although I adore my children completely, my life was feeling like not enough. Like perhaps I was made for something more. So I would sit on my couch and nurse Luke, and as the milk flowed, so did my feelings and sometimes my tears.

And then yesterday, THIS....

Somebody said that there’s this restlessness among the next generation of women, that they fear more than anything – wasting their lives. I’ve felt that before. Feelings can last for years but they can lie and change your forever.

So, look — There’s no fear: You aren’t wasting your life when you’ve poured out for eternity — wherever you are.

There’s no fear: You are doing something great with your life – when you’re doing all the small things with His Great love.

There’s no fear: You aren’t wasting your life – when you aren’t wasting opportunities to love like Christ.

- Ann Voskamp (A Holy Experience)

And just like that my cup began to fill once more. Because with every bottom that I wipe and with every apple that I peel, I am pouring out and into my children. And the small things don't have to remain small when a big God gets involved.

The point of this season of my life, is to point my children to Him. In all things. And that is more than enough.

So today our Luke is over the two month marker. The new baby fog has lifted and I am ready to carry on, each day discovering a bit more of what it means to live a beautiful life. And I am full. Full of goodness and hope and joy.

nine

So. She turned nine, which means I have now been on this journey of motherhood for nine years, too. I remember clearly the night she was born. I labored hard for twenty two hours before they finally placed her in my arms and I became a mother for the very first time. Of course she was perfect, all pink skinned and blinky eyed. The love was instant, but the confidence that 'I could do this' took time. At twenty one years old, I wasn't ready for all that becoming a mother would require of me. I wasn't ready to be up all night (because someone had to watch her to make sure that she kept breathing), and I wasn't prepared for all of the time and the energy and the sacrifice that goes into growing and nurturing a tiny person. Most days I felt inadequate, a girl who still needed her mother, instead of being the girl who was the mother.

But the love was always there, the constant that kept me going, determined to get this mothering thing right.

And over the years that blinky eyed girl turned into an inquisitive toddler, and then a precious preschooler, and now she stands before me, stunning, at nine years old and reminds me that we are halfway through our journey of being mother and daughter. And then I remind her that our journey together is not half over. She very well may leave our home in nine more years, but I will be her mother forever and ever, no matter how old she gets.

Some days I still feel inadequate. Our issues are no longer how to get that pink skinned baby girl to sleep through the night, but rather how to get our growing girl to always walk in the light. Gone are the days where I just wanted silence, and in their place have come days of teaching our daughter to use her voice for good. To speak boldly for the Lord. The fragile, innocent infant is no more, and in her place now stands our nine year old girl. Her heart is still fragile, but her body and mind are strong. Her innocence slowly being stolen by the sin in this world. And most days I feel like a mess. I am too strict on some things, frustrated when I should have been patient. I don't spend enough time investing in her life, and I use the words 'not now' and 'later' far more than I should. I blink and she's another inch taller and another month has passed us by. And I just want to go back. Back to the days where she was my baby. But time has taught me that there are no do overs. There is only today.

So today, I do the very best that I can. Today, I hug her a little bit tighter and for a little bit longer. Today, I look her in the eyes when she speaks to me and I care about the things that she cares about. Today, I laugh at her jokes. Today, I don't say 'later'. Today, I love her nine year old self with all that I have. 

And together, we journey on.

Happy ninth birthday to the girl who made me a mother. There is no one else that I would rather journey with.

dear children

My Dear Children,

Today was a good day. A quiet Sunday. We worshipped God this morning and your dad did yard work. We picked up Subway for lunch and everyone was happy (minus Em. Subway is not her thing). After lunch you played outside with your friends. I am not sure what you played, but I am sure it involved frogs and Ninja Turtles. Maybe a little bike riding. Your dad spent his afternoon building a shelf for our new(ish) home here, while I nursed your baby brother and napped under my favorite patchwork quilt. Sunday afternoon naps are the best. Remember that. We had dinner with our friends and neighbors, and before we came in for the night daddy took us for a ride in the golf cart. All of us. Now that our family number comes to six, two of you must stand. It is usually you girls, but you never seem to mind. Tonight we rode as the sun began to set. The soft rays burst through the clouds and it was beautiful, so we stopped by the office to stare for awhile before moving on. We drove over the dam, around the lake, and up the lane. All around us were deer, and bunnies with white cotton ball tails, geese, and squirrels. We all liked the bunnies the best. As we drove home along the road the fireflies began to dance and I noted in my heart what a charmed life I lead. It was just an average Sunday, but it was our day. Another day in the story of this life that we are living together. And I just wanted you to know that today's page held beauty and contentment. I am so very grateful to be your mother. I have dreamed many big dreams in this life and not all of them have come true. But this dream, the dream of our family, it has come true and my heart is so full when I think of your dad and of you four, my dear children. I love you. I always will.

Mama

Life Lately

Life has been busy in our little world. The good kind of busy. The busy that involves the daily doings of raising four children, sharing conversation and community with friends that we cherish, and really just celebrating life. All the many parts of it.

Somewhere in the span of the calendar pages turning, Boss and I celebrated ten years of marriage. A decade of love. To be honest, the night we had set aside to celebrate together did not go as planned. Luke was two weeks old at the time, we were tired, and we both said things that we should not have said. But at the end of the day, there is still no one else on earth that I would rather be sharing my days with. Both the good days and the bad ones. For me, Boss is it. And I thank God that he feels the same way about me. We ended our anniversary with I'm sorry and I love you. And I looked into the eyes of the man that I love and I prayed for many decades more.

Two weeks after our anniversary, this little fella turned one month old.

Luke is such a sweet little love. He reminds me most of his biggest sister, as he is a content, quiet little guy. Unless he wants to eat. Then he makes sure you are aware of his hunger. For the first time ever I am committed to nursing, and I will say that I love seeing my tiny guy begin to fill out. Our bodies are awesome and this entire process of pregnancy, birth, and then nursing my infant for nourishment reminds me every single day that there is a God. The way he designed the creation and sustainment of life is nothing short of amazing to me.

What else?

Yesterday this sparkly eyed girl turned seven. Seven years old. Kate was our most challenging child during the first two years of her life, but she has grown up to be the most charming and delightful little girl! She is a wonderful daughter and the very best sister. I love her so much and I am blessed to be her mama.




























Jack is now potty trained. We started working on it the very same week that we brought Luke home from the hospital. You know. Because I had nothing else on my agenda. But I am so proud of my biggest boy! He may or may not have recently gotten in trouble for showing every single person that he meets his new underwear (which involves dropping his drawers for all the world to see), but in his defense, Batman is pretty cool.

And then there is Emma. She is such a help to me! The perfect oldest child to our crew. Lately she is maturing so much and growing up before my very eyes. I am thankful she is mine.

 So that is a glimpse into the life of our family lately. Our life that is good, and sweet, and exhausting, and challenging, and hard, and wonderful all wrapped up in one. And I am thankful for all of it. For every one of our days together.

Recently our church family lost a wonderful man. Boss and I often list the couples ahead of us in this life that we admire, that we want to grow to be like and to model our family life and marriage after. Only two couples ever make our list. This man and his wife are one of those two couples and my heart is so saddened over his passing. But I will tell you this. Knowing him and now watching his wife tread through these dark days so gracefully, most definitely makes me want to know God more deeply. Knowing them makes me want to live each day more fully. Together. As a family.

I know that the Lord is at work. All around us and in our family. And I am so very thankful for this life that I have been given and for the people that I am blessed to share it with.

A Letter to Luke

Dear Luke,

Tomorrow will be one of the very best days of my life. Tomorrow will be your birthday. Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

For nearly two weeks I have not written in this space, but have instead been silent, my heart and mind able to focus on nothing but your coming. How does a mama properly prepare to meet the newest love of her life? How does she savor the final days of carrying her baby inside, her belly heavy with child? How does she store deep in her heart the way that it feels when her son moves inside of her and how can she hold on to the feeling of the gentle sway of his small body as he shifts? These things my heart wonders. So I have been silent. Content to simply take it all in, as tonight you rest under my heart, yet tomorrow, Lord willing, you will rest in my arms. Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

These past two weeks have been long ones. My body is tired. Sleep has not come easy. There were many nights where I thought tonight is the night he is coming! only to wake the next morning disappointed. It has been emotionally draining. For so long now I have wanted to meet you. And tomorrow I get to. Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

I wonder what you will look like, my sweet child number four. Will you have hair? Dark, thick brown hair? Or some other color that would be a marvelous surprise? Or perhaps you will be beautifully bald. Emma and Kate cannot wait to meet you. For sure you will be smothered in love by those two who have already dubbed themselves your second and third mama's. Jack cannot wait to teach you how to eat ice cream and how to fake burp. Such serious things a young boy must learn from his big brother. Your daddy cannot wait to hold you. I know he will cry when they place you in his arms. He always does. And me? I cannot wait to see the blink blink blinks of your baby eyes as you take in the new world around you. I cannot wait to stroke your soft skin, to nuzzle your small body close on my chest, to breathe in your baby smell. Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

Luke Wesley Perrin, never doubt that you were wanted from the very beginning. Never doubt that you are loved. Forever and ever. You are my son. The baby that I prayed for, that my heart desperately longed for. I love you to moons on sticks and back again.

Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

Love, Mama

childhood

 

One of my biggest failures in parenting has come in the form of screens. My children's small faces have been in front of them far too often. It was especially bad last year. Our old life on Fieldcrest Lane was quiet, mostly retired couples on our street, no other children to play with. So my children stayed inside. Sure, they played with each other, but when they grew tired of toys the screens came on. And I allowed it, even though my heart was against it.

But here? In this new space? Life is more as it should be. Spring has finally sprung in Ohio and my children are soaking up the first warm rays of sunshine that this year has had to offer. As soon as their school lessons are over for the day and their bellies are filled they hit the ground running, all three of them, the old lures of the screen forgotten. They ride bikes, play at the playground, and scavenge the campus with their friends for frogs. Yesterday they caught so many that my front yard looked as though a slimy green plague had come upon it. And at the end of the day, my children come home sweaty, stinky, smiling, freckles popping, and with cheeks rosy.

And it is exactly as this season of childhood should be.

Because one day my children will grow up. Perhaps, at some point in time, a prince will arrive for each of my daughters and the days of frog catching will be over.

But that day is not today. Thank goodness that day is not today.

my heart overflows

As I near the end of this pregnancy, I find that along with my body that is beginning to slow, so are my words. My thoughts are many, but my words are few. Gratitude for this simple life that I have been so blessed with is filling up all of the extra space that is not being filled up by my sweet new son.

My heart overflows.

You all know that we recently moved back home into staff housing (a darling little duplex) on the children's home campus where Boss works, where we previously served as houseparents for five years. Only now we live across the street from our old house where we used to live with our foster girls. And you want to know something? I used to sit across the street, in my old living room, and stare at this little duplex. Towards the end of my house parenting days I was a bit overwhelmed. My heart was torn in so very many directions. I loved both my family and our foster girls with all that I had, and I never felt like there was enough of me to go around. If I was being a good foster mom, I was not always being the mama that my own children needed. And if I was being a good mama to my three, I went to bed feeling as though I had not met the needs of the teenagers that day. I loved with most of my being, and finding balance was not my strong suit. So I stared at this little duplex. At the time, my friend (who is an exemplary mother) called the duplex home. And sometimes, if the blinds were left open, I would see her sitting on the couch chatting with her teenage daughter, sharing life together in the same way that I want to share life with my own daughters when they are teenagers. And I secretly told God that I wanted that. I wanted to be here in this place, on this campus which is our home, and I wanted a season to be just mama to my children. It was more of a wish, but I knew that God knew the longings of my heart. And today here I am.

God's blessings are not lost on me. He heard my heart longings and he provided. It was not on my timing, but it was in his. And it has turned out so much better than I ever could have imagined. Because today I sit here, full term with my second son. And Boss is asleep downstairs, our first son resting soundly next to him. And the girls are upstairs snug in their beds. The school room is almost put together, the crib has been assembled, our table is small, but with just enough space for our family of six. Tiny newborn clothes await a washing and my hospital bag sits by my bed. And it all feels like a dream, this blessed life that I am living.

There are hard days, for sure. Boss is running all over town, keeping Fieldcrest Lane market ready while continuously putting our home together here. Emotions are running high with all of the change that has taken place and with the anticipation of a new brother to be added to the bunch any day now. And there are still financial stresses. But mostly there is peace. Peace and gratitude. Because the baby will come when he is ready, and when we leave the hospital? We will bring him home. To this place. This place that I longed for, perhaps without really knowing that I longed for it, but God provided it for our little family anyway.

My heart overflows.

the very real me

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(This post is linked to Raising Arrows Welcome Home Wednesday)

Oh, goodness me, I am a dreamer.

I dream of a happy marriage and many children. I dream of making our home a haven. I dream of family adventures, a cute little camper to travel the country in. I dream of writing words that make a difference in the world around me. I dream of living a life that matters, of serving others until it hurts to do so. I dream of being more, of doing more. I dream big.

And sometimes, if I am being completely honest, those sweet children that I said were part of the dream (and they are), and that home that I want to make into a haven, sometimes I feel as though they get in the way of me finding the real me. Because surely there must be more! I sometimes feel that if only I could push it all aside, if I could lay the responsibility down, then maybe I could really shine! If I could peel back the layers of motherhood and homemaking, then maybe I could find what it is that I am meant to do. Who I am meant to be. Maybe I could find the very real me. And it's true. Sometimes I am so busy living in the land of my dreams, that I forget to live life well in my reality.

But God has been teaching me. He is always teaching me.

This motherhood and homemaking is for but a season. And a short one at that. God, in his infinite wisdom, designed it that way. There will come a time when my body will no longer be capable of carrying a child. I will always be a mama, but one day my chicks will leave the nest (and then I will sob like a baby). And I will always be the keeper of our home (wherever that may be), but the day will come when my responsibilities to our home will be less. The load will lighten. And then I will be free to pursue other callings. But for today, for right now, my calling is here. In my home and with my children. And there is no other setting that I am better suited to shine than this very setting that the Lord has placed me! For this very season! I am doing exactly what I was meant to do. Mama is who I am meant to be.

And I can't tell you how freeing this lesson learned has been.

My current job is to live the life I have been given well. To love, nurture, and care for my husband. To raise my children to be disciples for Christ. To make our home a haven. These roles make up the very real me and they are enough. I don't have to keep searching. My calling is clear.

brilliant, and beautiful, and brave

I recently made a new friend (love that!). We drove home together from an event the other night and as we rode along we went through the usual 'get to know you' small talk. My new friend began to tell me of  her young daughter. Her face lit up when she shared with me all of the qualities that she loved about her girl. She used words like brilliant, and beautiful, and brave. And I could actually feel the love and admiration that this mama had for her child flowing right out of her heart.

 

And I wondered, do I speak of my beloved children often enough in a positive light?

 

Being a mama is hard work and our sweet children often get a bad rap for being, well, for just being children. As mama's, we talk about how noisy they are, how much bickering can happen amongst siblings, how our little one still won't use the potty consistently (this is a current in my world). And sometimes the talking is okay (though do make sure your sweet children are not within ear shot!). It's nice to know we are not alone in the mama world. But for all of the negative talking that we do, we need to make sure that positive talk of our children, their behavior, their unique gifts is happening all the more. And sometimes we need to positive talk where our children can hear us! Our children need to know that we are proud of them. That we are privileged to be their mama. Every child should have the honor of hearing his or her mother say that they are brilliant, and beautiful, and brave. 

 

So tonight I am going to shine some love on my sweet Kate. My middle child that I never want to feel as though she were overlooked.

 



 

Somewhere amidst the crazy that has been this past month, my Kate turned into a reader. Every day she wants to read! The same books over, and over, and over again. And she always laughs at the same silly parts. (I love her laugh!) Teaching Kate how to read took two whole years. It did not come easy. But it was important to her, so she never grumbled, complained, or gave up. And now she is soaring and is so, so proud of herself. I am proud of her, too. And I find her to be brilliant.

My Kate has twinkly eyes and the very best smile. She has a tender heart. She loves nurturing small children, playing with dolls and stuffed animals, skipping and laughing with her little friends. Kate loves all of God's creation, every animal and person. As we were moving, she collected all of the change that she found (under couch cushions, behind the fridge), so that she could give it to Jesus to help another in need. (Lest you think she is perfect, she also announced that she would be keeping the dollar bills that she found for herself...) Kate's heart overflows with compassion for this world. I find my daughter to be beautiful.

This world can be scary. People, especially other children, can often be mean. But Kate sees the best in everyone. If a child is left alone on the playground, Kate will be their friend. If Boss or I say something that is not nice about another, Kate is quick to remind us about using uplifting words. If Kate is ever unkind, her heart truly grieves over her sin. Including others, being a good example, admitting when you are wrong... all of those things are hard for most adults, but they come easy to Kate. She is not scared to walk a different path than the rest of the world. My daughter is brave.

Our children are not a season to be endured. They are amazing gifts to be celebrated! Crafted and given to us specifically by our Maker. Our children are brilliant, and beautiful, and brave. As their mama's, let's make sure that they know it.

settled

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I do believe that we are beginning to get settled into our new nest.

This darling duplex is smaller than any space we have ever called home, and ironically enough, soon we will bring our new family number up to six! Yet despite it's small size, I think that I am falling in love with this new space. It seems to be the theme of our lives so far this year, but as with everything else, our family is finding that less is often more. And already, this small space feels like so much more. More than we have ever had before. More peace, more bodies snuggled into one space, more smiles, more feelings of this is so right. Because it is so right.

I am so grateful for this chance to start fresh. I know full well that it didn't have to happen. A fresh start does not come along every day. So I will do my best to see each new day in this small space as a gift. To be grateful for the grace that was given, another opportunity to get this thing called life right.

Tonight at supper (cinnamon rolls, eggs, and homemade granola mixed with yogurt and banana), I looked across the table at my king. He is oh, so handsome to me. I looked at him and thought of this life that we are building together. And I laughed, because while most of the world is climbing up, we always seem to be headed back down. Back down to what matters most, we say. And I am good with that.

And if it is true? If any home can be a castle when the king and queen are in love, then there has never been a more splendid duplex in all the land. Because this man, these children, this space? They are all I need to feel settled. They are all I need to feel at home.

lesson from the lady on the bike

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We are moving Wednesday morning (as in the day after tomorrow) and this past week has been a frantic scurry of finishing up home school cooperatives, work, and packing. Packing, packing, packing. I will admit that despite this move being an answer to prayer and something we are incredibly grateful for, I have found myself becoming a bit nostalgic as of late. I really did like this silly old house and our life on Fieldcrest Lane. Our home here sits on a picturesque plot and in the land of nostalgia I tend to forget all about the broken heat pumps, the broken water pumps, the leaky ceiling, and the thousands of dollars we have poured into this place that we did not have. I close my eyes and all I see is charm. The children swinging high on the tree swing out back, cooking hot dogs over the fire pit, picking apples from our trees. And my heart gets a tiny bit sad that we are leaving. It feels a bit unfair that we have struggled so much with our finances this year, and I am tempted to feel sorry for our family and to feel jealousy towards those who have 'more'. Just keeping it real. But God is always so good at meeting me right where I am.

Yesterday morning our family was driving to church and we passed a woman on a bike. The bike was loaded down with belongings and the woman was wearing a furry white coat, peddling hard against the wind. Boss pointed out that the woman on the bike can often be found attending our church. I nodded and agreed that I had seen her before. And I felt slightly guilty for the 'woe is me' attitude I had been sporting this past week. There we sat in our moving vehicle (one of two that we own), our children nicely dressed, just going through the motions of getting to church. No effort or energy was being exerted on our part. To the woman on the bike, those speeding past in cars must look as though they have it made. I must look as though I have it made. Because the truth is that I do. I have it made. Only I  can't see that truth when I am pouting.

And then our minister? He did it. He preached on pursuing poverty. On laying everything we have at Christ's feet to be used by him in whatever way he sees fit. On valuing people over possessions. On not letting our desire for money and things be greater than our desire to do God's will in our lives. And then our minister challenged us to open our wallets. To take out whatever change we had. To come forward and put our offering, large or small, in the plate to be given to those who enter our church building looking for a hand up. To empty ourselves before God, trusting that he will provide when we have need. .

I opened my wallet and found a dollar bill. It didn't seem like much, certainly not worth walking forward for. I almost snapped my wallet shut when I saw her. The woman in the white coat, the one we had passed on her bike on our way in. She had shown up and she was walking forward. I have no idea what she gave, but that's not the point. The point is that she gave. Someone with so few earthly possessions found the strength to empty herself before God. And she encouraged me to do the same. My dollar went in the plate.

I left church with a different attitude. This house on Fieldcrest Lane is lovely, but it is not necessary. And the money we have poured into it this past year? Not at all how we desire to be spending our funds. There are people in this world, people right here in our community who are in need. And it is not God's desire that we should be spending all of our 'spare' change on our possessions as we have done this past year. He desires us to pour out ourselves, all that we have, before him, instead of pouring out ourselves, all that we have, on a picturesque lifestyle. Needless to say, my pouting has ceased.

I do pray that our property on Fieldcrest Lane sells quickly. And once it does, I pray that our family will have the courage to do with our funds what we should have been doing all along. Giving them right back to the one who so generously gave them to us in the first place.

On Faith, Family, and Flat Stanley

 

I am kind of in love with our home school community. Okay. I am really in love with it.

Tonight, my oldest daughter was in the musical that she has been practicing for all year. Flat Stanley. My oldest daughter is a lot like me. Her diva comes out at home and in small settings where she feels comfortable and confident. But in a large crowd she is content to simply be part of the group. She loves showing up, working hard, having fun, and being involved. That is enough for her. She has yet to try out for a major role in a play, always happy to be in the background. Maybe someday she will try for more. Maybe not. Either way, she shines.

The play was cute. My daughter did have one dance scene that she has worked really hard on and tonight she rocked it. Her diva came out for the crowd for two whole minutes. But the play was not my favorite part of the evening. My favorite part of the evening was sitting in the church sanctuary with more than one hundred other like minded people. Every time we gather together as a home school community I get chills. And I feel so thankful and blessed for this community we have chosen to be a part of.

Here's the thing. I believe there are a million different ways to do life right (as long as you are walking with Christ). There is not a one size fits all method. God made each of us different. Unique. With different callings and different paths. And this is our path. The one we have chosen and feel so humbled to be walking down.

Sometimes I think homeschooling gets a bad rap. A few weeks ago, I was even called 'silly' (by a woman I respect and admire) for the choice Boss and I have made in educating our children. I hear all of the time that home schooled children are too sheltered. Unsocialized. That when faced with peer pressure or difficult choices in the future, home schooled children will crumble. Or rebel. And that parents who keep their children at home are not preparing them for the real world.

But I have to wonder, what real world am I to be preparing my children for? Because if I am preparing them to climb corporate ladders, to chase the world's standard of success, then I am okay with not preparing them for that. I would rather my children walk in the opposite direction. And it's true. My children could crumble one day. And they might rebel. Again, there is no one size fits all method. If homeschooling was sure to guarantee safety and success, I believe all parents who love their children would do so! Only there is no guarantee. But my hope and my prayer is that by being truly grounded, in both God's Word and in our family, that my children won't crumble when times get tough. That they would be rooted enough in family and faith to stand strong. And as far as being unsocialized goes, I suppose that depends on your definition of what type of socialization is important. Because it's true. My children are not surrounded by peers their own age day in and day out. But instead they are surrounded by a variety of ages and I love that! My daughters have friends who range in age from three to sixteen and they truly consider each one of them, no matter their age, a friend. It's kind of beautiful. And I don't think Boss and I are silly for sheltering our children. In fact, I am happy to do so. The real world comes at each of us eventually. And I am thankful that for just a little while my little ones hearts can be light. The heavy will come soon enough.

Homeschooling was not in our original plan. And had we chosen a different route it would not have meant we loved our kids less. Or more. It simply would have been different. And I have no doubt that no matter the route I would have done my best to be the best mama I could be. But I am thankful for this route. This path. This journey. And I am thankful that we are able to travel it together. As a family. And on nights like tonight, I am most thankful for the like minded community that surrounds and encourages us as we seek to raise our children to be disciples for Christ.

Yes. I am kind of in love with our home school community. Okay. I am really in love with it.


(image by Denise Owens Photography)

thank goodness i'm crafty

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According to the above picture, I am quite crafty. Awesome. Because my craftiness is all I have going for me at the moment. My brain is gone. Perhaps the current person I am making is stealing my brain cells? I have no idea. All I know is that my brain is completely shot. Seriously.

Some examples:

- My mom kept my children one afternoon last week. After they returned, I could not find my diaper bag. I searched for a bit, came up empty handed, and then just assumed I had left my bag at my mom's house. Three days later I found my diaper bag. In the refrigerator. Right next to the fruit cups. And what is most alarming to me is not that I placed my diaper bag in the fridge in the first place. What is most alarming is that for three days, every single time I opened the fridge (which is quite often these days), I never once noticed a giant bag sitting on the second shelf. I have no words.

- My sweet friends recently threw me a small baby sprinkle, where my super talented and crafty (in more ways than making people, although she did conceive triplets..... naturally) friend blessed me with an adorable handmade quilt for my new son. With his name on it. And my first thought upon reading the name on the quilt was that is not how you spell Jack. Obviously. Because my new son's name is Luke. And it was awkward because I shared this revelation out loud. At that point I wished I had had no words.

- Back in January our small group at church planned a video scavenger hunt. Celebrate Cincinnati. Cool, right? We set the date for April 13th. And if anyone had asked, I could have told them the date. My oldest daughter has been practicing for a play this entire school year. The date of the play? April 13th. And if anyone had asked, I could have told them the date. But never once did I put the two dates together. I assumed (until just a few days ago) that I was attending both events until a friend on Facebook mentioned that she could not attend the scavenger hunt because she was attending my daughter's play. Duh. Clearly, so was I. What if my friend had not mentioned the fact that both events were on the same night? Where would I have wound up? The possibilities are endless.

- Our children attend two different home school cooperatives on two different days of the week. On Wednesday I drove to Monday's cooperative without thinking. The empty parking lot alerted me to the fact that I was at the wrong church building, so I headed back out in a different direction and took a new route........ back to the very same church building with the empty parking lot. No worries. The third time was the charm and we eventually wound up where we needed to be.

I have no clue when my brain will return. Or if it will return. I am slightly worried that I will live in this perpetual state of crazy forever. But hey, at least I'm crafty. There's always that.