Harumph

*arms crossed*

My dad made me come back here.

Well, not MADE me like when I lived at home. But he did something so him: he publicly complimented this blog (granted, to a small public).  Benign, sure. But sneaky on his part. Because it made me go back and look at it again. Which made me think of how old the last post was. Which made me think and remember the lost year; an eventful one, unaccounted for. Which made me want to wrangle the words to express and have a record somewhere that I exist and live and struggle and win and lose and keep trying. And when I can resolve to keep trying I want to tell others, anyone who will listen, to keep trying. And if only one person hears the "keep trying" drum and is strengthened and encouraged to keep trying, is it worth it?

If the missionary goes out, pours his guts out in front of the heathens and spends himself on a message of greater glory - and one person sees the greater glory and it changes life for them, is it worth it?

Well, the numbers on that aren't great. But, I gotta say: Yes. As reproduction goes, if one yields one then that's considered sustaining. Its not amazing, but its something. I mean, John and I are two humans and we've yielded 3 humans thus far and so maybe not all growth should be exponential. Especially since, in the case of this blog, most of what I'm saying probably isn't all that great and no one should really be listening all that closely anyway.

....

Its because I read a comment I hadn't read before that someone left on the blog about forgiveness that said they were encouraged by it. "I needed to hear this today" or something along those lines. Gosh. I'd really love to available to give someone what they need today. A little something to keep going.

....

So, eyes askance, squinting at this screen through thinly veiled distain, I cave (cave into what exactly? the resolve to not be lazy anymore? I dunno. it should probably say, "i discipline myself" but that's not fun to read, is it?)

Now for gratuitous pictures of my children: this was on our way to a great trip to Chicago,

...and this is having arrived back in town. At 11pm. Troopers, these two.

Preachy McPreacherson

I won't lie to you. I've been conflicted.

I'm "cooling" on the idea of having a blog because why do I have it? I hoped that it would be an opportunity.  So that distance or schedule would not get in the way of a sitting-at-the-kitchen-table-over-coffee-style chat - while obviously one-sided.


I like the idea of journaling. I like writing. I like stories and hearing stories from others. I like hearing about the best thing thing that happened this week. Or the hardest thing. I like what someone learned about their child or their husband.

I don't like preaching.

And EVERYBODY preaches. Especially the news.

I watch TV. I really love PBS. It shows me lives and cultures that I would otherwise never have seen. But they can be VERY preachy.

Facebook can get preachy. Twitter is a preach-a-thon. And music isn't exempt. It just seems that everywhere I've looked for a while is telling me what to do/not do and how to think/not think.

I'm just topped-off. I'm overloaded on opinions. And that's where I get conflicted.

I'd like to share my life with people. But part of my life is developing, practicing and then possibly scrapping entire systems of values - the "why" behind what I do. Making me, depending on the reader, one more opinion thrown out there in a static-y sea of buzzing thought.

So, personally, I'm on a quest for truth. The Word of God is truth. Jesus is truth. And, I'm leaving everyone else to their opinion.

So please, don't take my word for it.

The Ways of Boys

I am number 4 of a total of 5 girls. My childhood home was all estrogen, all the time. Due to this, I've had a Ripley's Believe It or Not-style fascination with the ways of boys in general. As if males were an anomaly. Because in my family they were. What do they do? More importantly in this case, why do they do it?

Jesus answered my lifelong curiosity with some boys of my own. Well, I guess it really started with getting married, but that's different.

Side bar: Let's just quickly qualify the point that I am differentiating within the general topic of "males" based on relationship. I had friends, cousins and other outside male relationships like that. And I willingly married one but, qualifying it on relationship, my definition included "man" and "romance" and "flowers" and "love notes", etc., in other words, its biased.

All that to say, my everyday understanding of boy begins with my 6 year old, especially non-verbal son. So, as I have questions like "is this a personality thing or do all boys NOT talk EVER?" - my son isn't the one to ask for insight into himself. And this comes into play especially with school. And here is where I thank difficult circumstances for the much better outcome: I got book on the library about boys and their brains!

No, seriously, that's the punchline. Author Michael Gurian had done years of brain study on boys and men and the male brain. THANK YOU, SIR! And has come out with some books to talk about what makes boys so unique and great (because, frankly, they get kind of a bad rep if you think about it).

I've read through (ok, skimmed for the pertinent parts) 3 of his books about adult male relationships, how boys and girls learn differently and the need for boys to have a higher calling. Very, very interesting stuff. I've changed some of the ways I relate to my son, but especially in the ways I try to motivate my son or give him greater meaning. My 9 yr old daughter has even come back to me to tell me a tip or two she has used in her relationship with her brother. Bottom line: useful.

So, do you have a boy in your life? Go out to your library (of which I'M SURE you already have a card, because you support your community) and get The Wonder of Boys.

[End Public Service Announcement]

Birthday Holiday

9 years ago I was much dumber.

I was surprised by a pregnancy. And 9 months later, after a long, difficult labor and emergency C-section delivery, I had my first baby in my arms. A little girl who was more beautiful than I deserved. I was happy. I was NOT ready. And like most new moms I was starting down a road of low levels of consistent stress. Everything was a 1st. I didn't have much experiential understanding. You know that gauge inside every mom for her child that reads "Happy & Healthy" on one end to "Dangerous & Life Threatening" on the other? My needle was all over the place. Was that fever ok or terrible?

Thank you, God, for your graciousness. Its a gift, not a reward.

My daughter turned 9 yesterday. In some ways, she is someone I want to be when I grow up. If I were her age, I'd want to be her friend. She's THAT great.

6 years ago (and 2 weeks) I was a bit more ready for baby #2. It seemed there actually WAS room in my heart to love another baby! And yet, I loved this little boy uniquely. Probably because he was a whole new, unique person. I was also more relaxed. It was easier to just love without caution. I found that I loved my little family and I wasn't sure that I would. I mean, I really really love them. They are still my favorite people. In the whole world.

But something unlocked in my heart with this last baby.

I don't just appreciate new life now, I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT!

I am deeply moved by the face of a newborn. Its not just "hope" or "the future" or "life", its deeper and stronger and bigger than those words. Its bigger than any of the words I know or have used before. I feel...intense about new life. Its become a cherished gift to me.

Which makes children an incredible honor.

My baby is 1 today. (yes, I have all September babies, go ahead and giggle)

We tried for more than a year for him. A very long, sad year. And the other two had been praying for a baby longer than that (before Mommy was even ready!). He is cherished by this family. I don't think we've ever been upset with him. Frustrated, sure, but we are just so thankful for him and his whole self that spilling, hair-pulling, lego-wrecking and the demand for Mommy's attention is all worth it.

Bottom line. They are all so worth it. All the babies. Everywhere. And that's smart.

Put Your Hand To Something, Honey!

Inspiration! (I love that the word for a creative light bulb over our heads is the same word for breathing in - genius!)

I'm a creation creative advocate. Ignore the grammar issue and stay with me, we're going somewhere.

If God's first handshake to us, the first impression, in Genesis was "God created" (Hi, I'm God. I'm so creative I am The Creator), then I'm guessing that the creative element of being human is a big part of the "image and likeness" tag we wear.

That established, I'm a real cheerleader for creative endeavors.  

Put your hand to something, honey!

Do something new. Create something. Do a craft or bake a cake or install flashy rims on your car but do something with your hands. Write. Imagine. Because (and here's where we put the big equals sign) it will yield (or =) the reward or fruit of a certain...nearness...to God. (there's gotta be a better word out there, but I'm in a rush - the baby's asleep)

In my opinion, it opens up the doors to greater knowledge, understanding and emotional connectivity to eternity since the greatest concentration of image and likeness would seem to be found in our spirits and thus tapping our creativity means tapping into our spirit.

So. This is a super article about writing.

Go on. Get started.

Who's The Boss

I homeschool my children.

Homeschooling is a weighty lifestyle and value choice. Its deviant in that it breaks from a cultural norms and like other deviations requires great effort.

My sister does not homeschool her children. She weighed and considered and chose to use her local public pre-school. And while it would seem that we are odds on a very deep, lifestyle value level, we still manage to remain friends.

I love her very much. She loves the Lord, like I do. She loves me. In this case, while I am beyond convinced that I am making the better choice for my children's education, I do not pretend to know what's best for her children. Though, believe me, sometimes a voice in my head tells me I do.

In caring for each other, we will challenge each other's choices and thus, values. And while, there must be a peaceful medium between hands-off neglect and judgmental control, I do not claim to know where it is.

And so I wrestle with the Lord and His ultimate purposes for others and myself while in between those two places. I wrestle with people who are right all the time and those who can't make a decision. And I have no hard and fast answers. These are just things on my mind these days. But I still want to know.

Separation Anxiety

I dropped my daughter off at camp this week.

She's 8. It was the first time she was going to an all day event. It was only 5 days long.

But sure enough, day 2, I dropped her off on my own. No family in tow, just her and I. I kissed her sweet braids and she trotted off (she's has the funniest, floppy run. this one'll never be an athlete). I went back to the car. Lonely. I went grocery shopping. Lonely. I bought more treats that I usually allow. Lonely. John noticed the treats and figured it all out.

I reflected like I haven't reflected before. Probably because I haven't had that much quiet before. I saw each of my little ones getting more independent as they get older. Then the day where they love some stranger more than they love me or their dad, for the first time. They'll marry that stranger and then my job will be....over.

I mean, I get that it won't be OVER over. Just different. But, let be honest, it'll be over. Being mom is my job. I love this job. I have other passions and callings that will probably become more of a primary focus at that point, but still. That's a big transition.

So, for a while there, I missed my little ones. And their little kisses, hugs and affections. I missed their little laundry and the way they fit on my lap.

Camp's over. She's back. I HAVE little ones now. But I was grateful for the vision of the future to help me live very much in my today.