Soaring to Stillness: Life with the Chickadees

A Letter to my Twelve Year Old

2012-02-08T21:53:00.000-05:00

Dear Grace Girl,

Twelve years ago we welcomed you into our world.

Twelve years....

Days of laughter, frustration, watching you grow and growing alongside you as a woman and a mother. Learning your cries and glances and smiles. Getting to know you.

Beautiful YOU

With a spirit of determination that develops seemingly daily. Your strength astonishes me....You're unique. You move to the beat of your own drummer and have learned this year that the crowd isn't so interesting. I'm in awe of the depth of your passions and of the ways you work to make dreams become reality. It has been my privilege to watch you face opposition and show Christ to others, in your word and response and deed. Your heart is lovely. Truly lovely. Never let anyone or thing change it...except to make it bigger. Never fear being stretched. It's what makes you grow.

You've lived more in this year than I did in decades. I was awkward and duckling-like at your age, and you? YOU are flying. When you took that very first ballet class a few years ago I would've never imagined what our God would do in and though you with your athleticism, aptitude and grace. I didn't dream of you dancing twenty plus hours a week as you approached twelve. I didn't see us travelling around the country on scholarships as you worked at dance with all of you. How could I know that this would become your passion? Some people never find it, the fire that makes them sparkle. I'm so thankful you have. You shine so brightly and reflect Him so well. Praying before you preform, asking the One who created you to shine though you. He does. I'm so thankful.

There have been so many firsts and changes this year, that in some ways it reminds me of our primary twelve months together. We are learning to navigate the waters of as you continue to develop into the young woman that you were created to be. You've been asked to accept more than a child should this year...A year where you lost one of your biggest voices of support and a piece of your heart. I know that the ache you've experienced is not one that will fade easily, nor will that hole ever be filled. I am so very proud of the manner in which you've felt your way through this and the ways in which you continue to honor all that she is to you and taught you about living and loving well. Our girl loved you so much. So, so much. She'd be so proud of you, just like I am.

I love the way you are always looking ahead and planning for the next moment. So much is ahead of you...New York for nationals, Joffrey acceptance...in the year ahead your life will just keep getting bigger. Please be careful to not miss all of the moments going on right now; take the time to be a kiddo for a little bit longer...although you've never really been "kidlike" in how you view our world. I can't wait to experience this next year of life alongside you, my Grace Girl. Thank you for teaching me to see things through your eyes, a viewpoint which is colorful and exciting and full of movement.

I look forward to watching you grow and soar ,sweet one. Spread those unmatched wings of yours and fly.

All of my love forever and ever,

Mumma

A Heart Full

2012-02-07T20:36:00.000-05:00

Sometimes having a heart full isn't easy.

Carrying and learning and stretching...

It causes an ache

Today my heart is full.

Full for my friend that will sit and lie and undergo tests that will measure progression of something she has little control over. She remains fully in the light and shines so brightly. But my heart? It's full of her, those sweet boys that remind me of my girls, and her husband who captures beauty. Her voice and spirit are strong...I'm the one coming all apart reading her script and seeing more in photographs than is there.

Eyes overflow as I read another friend's words, her beautiful acceptance of the way things are and the wistfulness of what has been. Sitting in a wooden chair in the hallway at one of our three dance studios while my Little Bit takes class, tears slide down my cheeks. Knowing a pain like hers, seeing my girls in hers. The sweetness of their hearts...knowing that her thoughts will slide to them, to the future, to the what-may-bes . I've been there.

All the way to the top is what I am today...

Tender

It's a good place to be. A spot where I see more clearly, hear more acutely, feel all the way down to my toes. I know that my tired and heavy heart exacerbate the waterfall that is becoming my eyes, but it's okay. The hallway is dark and quiet, only lit by the screen as I type. I will be the put back together Mama that my Little Joy is expecting when her class door opens in an hour. In these moments of alone, I'll let myself feel and not be strong.

My ear buds in, gratitude music pouring straight to my soul. Reminders of why a full heart is one that always has room for a little more...because that is what friendship is...feeling, supporting, praying, lifting up and under and holding when times are tough because He first loved us.

"Gracious, compassionate, merciful God, radiant holy delight, beautiful Father

victorious Son, source of unchangeable light, great is the Lord and thus worthy of praise,

refuge of strength to the end, righteous redeemer and mighty to save

He's the anchor of hope for the souls of men."

-Ellie Holcomb

...so very thankful for a heart that can fill

Hues of a Winter Sunset

2012-02-06T19:31:00.001-05:00

The view from the school room this evening

O contemplate the heavens! When as the vein-drawn day dies pale,

In every season, every place, gaze through their every veil?

With love that has not speech for need!

Beneath their solemn beauty is a mystery infinite:

If winter hue them like a pall, or if the summer night

Fantasy them starre brede.

-Victor Hugo

Five Minute Friday:Real

2012-02-03T11:50:00.001-05:00

Five minute Friday is here...I'm joining my friend The Gypsy Mama for five minutes where I'll write without editing, backtracking, or second guessing.

Today's topic? Real.

Ready...Set...Go!

Real is what I am at home, when the doors close and the world cannot see me. It's the wince as I get in and out of the car parked in a spot reserved with a blue background and white symbol. It is in the sigh of frustration of not being able to open a bottle without leaning over and holding it between my feet so I can twist a cap. Real is in the little moments of my life that I am often capable of shielding from the world.

Most people don't like it, the real. They pretend it doesn't exist. They don't want it to. Real is messy and painful and oh-so-honest. I prefer truth. The more years I'm given the easier it is to accept myself where I'm at and be okay with who I'm being made into every day. I'm just not sure that someone else will. Real.

I yearn for friendships, for other women, who value what I do. Who love where someone is at, right in a moment. I strive to find others who are not necessarily like me but share a story line that unites us. Being a woman is enough, for don't we share in that? The tired, the expectations, the struggles, the hopes and fears and joys?

Real is the stuff that we're made of. Perfectly and uniquely formed from. Not ideal. REAL.

...In A Breeze

2012-02-02T17:47:00.001-05:00

Today is glorious.

Blue skies with no hint of clouds.

The rain of yesterday shows no trace, no puddles remain.

Sun kisses my head and my just-toweled hair blows in the breeze created when windows of the vehicle are open wide.

Heart filling sunshine.

In working on an attitude adjustment as I flew out of the house to take the girls to piano so I could elliptical at the same time and then on to six dance classes which don't end until 9 tonight, my outlook was stormy. So was my attitude. I didn't like me. I'm sure the chicks we're being kind in their tolerance.

Then, the warmth of the car urged me to open the windows. The open windows created a breeze. The wind made my eyes turn heavenward. In that moment?

So did my heart.

In the moments of silence which is how I ride in the those brief moments the girls aren't accompanying me a song filled my ears. Old, treasured, sung note-for-note as I would've decades ago in choir...

For the Beauty of the Earth

"For each perfect gift of thine,

To our race so freely given.

Graces human and divine

Flow'rs of earth and buds of heav'n"

-Cocher

So very thankful for a God that makes the ordinary beautiful, and whose gifts are perfect and given just when we need them.

Thankful for the reflection that comes with light.

On Moving and Hospitality...

2012-02-01T13:59:00.000-05:00

I grew up in a large metro area in the mitten. We then moved toward the beach with all of it's ah glorious sand and sky moments. Four years later? Back to the mitten.

Then we flew south.

We'd lived under the dividing line when we'd done the Charleston years. I was a believer in warmth and hospitality. I even owned a frame that had a pineapple on it. I decided this time I'd become a rebel and forego the accent and sweet-tea. I was not prepared for the culture shock that would assault our family. I thought we'd done this before, it would be easy and we'd be accepted because our new area was practically a transplant/retirement zone anyway. I thought it would be a piece of cake.

I was mistaken.

We moved in, got the big kiddo registered in the local public school Little Bit wasn't school aged yet, found a pediatrician, a dance studio, and began looking for a church. We attended every neighborhood and work related get-together and went to the subdivision pool at least four times a week. Making friends was a piece of cake, right? Wrong.

In a perfect world, humans are accepting, welcoming, warm individuals. At least you hope they are....

In real life, we are complicated, preoccupied with our own schedules and agendas, and judgmental. I'm not saying EVERYONE is like this, just most of us. We forget to see the big picture because we're in our own comfort zone. We don't like travelling outside the lines. We fumble with being gracious.

I'm not on a soapbox here. I stink at hospitality. It's not my gift or my love language. I'm good at loving people and meeting needs. I have a heart for it. But, in my own home I am not great at hosting others. It is a trait I realize in myself and I work to change. Part of the issue is that I work so hard at making others feel welcome that I tucker myself out. Entirely and completely. At this point I am no longer any fun and I ruin what I've tried to do in the hospitality department. I live daily with my autoimmune issues. I know exactly what they are. Most people never know that there's anything at all wrong with me. I like it that way. I like being normal. Wink....I'm great at it in public. Which brings me back to: When you don't feel 100% most of the time, you can only hide it from others if they leave your home. Hence, my issues with hospitality. I know and acknowledge my weakness.

All of that said, moving was not easy-peasy. It takes work, time, and energy to form strong, lasting relationships. It means letting people in. I'm saying the following for all of us who have moved, who are moving, or who have been in the same community for a lifetime.

OPEN YOURSELF TO THE NEW

The accent might grow on you. The culinary delights may or may not impress. Worship and education will probably be vastly different. ACCEPT.

BE GENEROUS

Take treats. Invite newbies to movies or offer to show them around the local grocery store. Stop the man at the register from calling them "darling" and "sweet-cheeks" (Yes, I was called both and a variety of other things. No, he wasn't referring to my face)

BE WARM

When you're new, accept the help when it's offered. Reciprocate on the invitations even when you feel whelmed. Open your heart and your doors to the unexpected friends. They are out there, just waiting to find you if you're willing. It may take time, but relationships are worth it.

BE GENUINE

It's okay to be who you are, who you were created to be...YOU are amazing. Our God created you. Go ahead and show that unique, lovely, heart-catching person to the world. Be a friend who is real. Who has time. Who is messy. I'm not perfect...and neither is my entire community. We all fit in someplace, it's just in taking the time to figure out where that place is.

BE FORGIVING

You'll probably be disappointed. You're used to friends who sound like you and come from your background. Open yourself up to others. Love them like they are...you'll probably stop checking the list of different and change the title to friend. Look for beauty.

WORSHIP

This may be met with an UGH from some of you. Churches can be the worst place to make friends. In my experience, they are the hardest place to connect. It shouldn't be like this, but it is, more often than not. But...Worship is good for your heart. Period. People will open up. You'll find a niche. If not at that first place then at the fifth. Keep trying. It sounds cliche, but our God is always with you. Always. Even in the new, you are never alone.

Moving is...Exciting. Confusing. Adventurous. It's full of the unexpected.

So are we.

So...

Be the hospitality you wish see in your world.

kthanksbye.

Five Minute Friday:Tender (On Tuesday)

2012-01-31T10:50:00.001-05:00

We spent the weekend dancing in Georgia and I was too busy running the Grace Girl from competition to convention classes to do anything else. Yesterday was make-up schooling and extra loads of laundry I never fathomed this many loads of dark hand wash only as well as bathing the dog because she'd been at the kennel for a few days eewwwww. So, here it comes, a Five Minute Friday: Tender (On Tuesday)

Five minute Friday is here...five minutes where I'll write without editing, backtracking, or second guessing. Five minutes to write because I love it, because it frees me, if only for five minutes...

Today's topic? Tender

Ready...Set...Go!

Tender is how my heart gets when I watch them and don't realize it. Dreaming their dreams and telling each other secrets in hushed whispers as the occasional giggle slips out.

Tender is how she's always approached her big sister, the one who shows her the ropes and gives her the most grief. Her little hands wrap around one that is looking surprisingly like mine these days and I see the tendency for my eldest to act big, to not willing grasp those ballet pink painted fingers and I cry out in my heart, "Please, keep her tender, Lord...soften her."

In the moments where I am able to really see them, to watch them grow and change and adjust in our world, I seek the tender.

To be soft with them in times I am tired and out of patience

For my words and my tone to match when I am about to answer in haste

In the giving of my time when it seems there is none left in our hurried day

With words of their favorite stories and lullabies as I am granted the privilege of snuggling them before bed

I want to be a mother that displays the tender and passes it on, so they might too

STOP

Seeing the Gray

2012-01-26T12:42:00.000-05:00

It all goes back to elementary school and diagramming sentences...

(Taken from the Grace Girl's book)

I was the girl who loved English class. Every single part of it. From spelling to word definitions to parts of speech, I was smitten. I even was taken with the lost of art of sentence diagramming. Yep. That's me. I was a geek.

There are moments in life where I wonder if I should have studied the sciences and not the arts. If becoming an experimentalist would perhaps have given me a different view on the world. If, in being a researcher, I would see things less in black and white...

.and more in gray

Being a yes or no not a maybe girl is fantastic in some areas of my life. I make decisions quickly. I carry through on agreements. I throw myself into relationships wholeheartedly. I enjoy order. I value those who stick to their word. I have high expectations of myself.

I have high expectations of others

I want people to work as hard at things as I do. I have hopes of the professor coming home and switching back "on" to family and turning off his work brain, which at this point in his career is probably too much to ask. I keep telling him I understand how busy he is, how many hours he works, and that this is what it takes for him to get where he's going. I tell him I understand. I kind of lie. I desire for family to grasp what our life is really like...how much time and work go into homeschooling well,what living with a chronic disease is like, how difficult it is to do it the driving and shopping and cleaning and bill paying and all the rest of it solo.

High expectations make things lonely

Life isn't set up like a sentence diagram. Not everything rests on straight (or slanted) lines joined and blocked into neat, set, spaces. It can't all be labeled, classified, and then scripted.

I'm working on seeing things less on a line and more as part of a picture. People don't fall into tight spaces. They deserve room and space to grow...

It's not all black and white.

Maybe, just maybe, I'm starting to see a little gray after all.

Mending a Crack

2012-01-24T19:18:00.000-05:00

In the little moments, I need to remember she's not trying to break my heart.

Her sweetness emanates from her in a way unmatched by other children...

She's never known me as a physical force like her sister has; as she grows she won't recall how I used to change furniture around because I was bored with the look of the room. She hasn't done those quick trips to the hardware store in search of the perfect paint color to change up the walls. I used to do that. Often.

She'll never remember that I was able to easily push her for what seemed like forever on the swing, her wispy curls blowing in the breeze as she called out, "MORE, Mama, MORE!" in that baby voice I can still hear in memories...lost to her will be the pictures in her head of me following her up the steps of a slide like I did with her big sis.

Her recollections won't include me running after her as she took those baby steps from tentative to full speed. She doesn't recall back that far and it hurts in a place that no bandage will ever heal.

Today, the weather was perfect. Sixty-three degrees with sunshine touching our hair and warming our backs. The day called us to come outside and enjoy this respite from winter gray. She asked, hopefully this morn, if we might go outside and play once we finished our schooling. I replied in the affirmative and said a quick prayer that her sister would school quickly, for the Grace Girl is now the source of outside joys. With a Mama who doesn't always move well and has to be careful with sunlight, my eldest has taken over the dream keeping, games of tag and sidewalk chalk and all of the festivities that I used to enjoy with her.

One more crack in my heart. A girl sometimes asked to do things she need not because a disease limits my ability.

My big did not finish early. In fact, we schooled down to the wire and then did a quick twenty minutes of choreography revamping for an upcoming solo before heading across town for hours of lessons.

On our way home, my Little Joy asked if perhaps heading outside was still in the cards...

She started it with, "Boy, Mama, it's so sunny I have to put on sunglasses...."

I knew where this was headed, and started to smirk

"Do you think, maybe, well, we could play soccer?" Then answering her own question, she continued,"Wait, you can't run. We can't play soccer.I've not been able to do that in a long time."..."How about basketball? Can you play basketball with me?" My heart cracked again as I replied, "Angel, you know my hands and wrists are bad. I'd love to play with you but I can't. Maybe I can watch you play?" "No Mama, I want to do it with you..." Disappointment filled her voice. Disappointment filled my heart.

I deal with these autoimmune diseases of mine. I don't wish for what is not part of my life. I don't lament what could be. I am thankful instead for what is. But, sometimes, what is hurts. The girls learn all sorts of things about empathy, compassion, patience, gratitude. I'm thankful for this. I love that we have more time to snuggle and read stories and learn languages. I adore that I can be a part of their dance and studio time and every competition, convention, audition and practice. I am in awe of the wonder of them and the beauty that is their growing up. I am speechless with gratitude. It could all be very different; I know this and I seize every single opportunity to be with them.

But today? Today my heart aches with the wanting to do things with her that she'll remember outside of me not being able to, if that makes sense...

Then, a quiet honey-filled voice from the backseat breaks the silence

"Mama, how about I ride my scooter? We don't have to go far, but maybe we could go past that first turn? Perhaps that will work? I don't want to hurt your hip too much, but I do want to be with you...May we do that? Please Mama...you don't have to take the dog, I know she'll pull too much...."
. . . . .
So, that was precisely what we did on this light-filled Tuesday afternoon. We secured her helmet and off we went, making long shadows on the grass and slow progress in our distance. She'd dart ahead and then wait for me to catch up. We enjoyed easy conversation on big subjects, like the fact that she never plans on leaving me, even when she grows up. "You are my favorite person," she tells me, "I love you more than anyone else in the world. Ever. Except for God.You are perfect for me." My Little Bit. The child we prayed would be extraordinary not ordinary. Our girl who's name means "God has answered"...In her I see the One who made her and I give thanks.

That fracture in my heart begins to mend itself together just a bit.

All of the "what-if's" related to my physical are left in the dust today. She sees my heart. Loves me as I am. Accepts all of it and doesn't mourn for what she's never known. As she grows, she may have to adjust her perspective on my normal. The Grace Girl has. For these hours, though, we're playing outside with the sun kissing our cheeks. Smiling. Together.

I am beyond thankful for her little heart. Mothering her is an honor. A blessing.

A GIFT

2012-01-23T06:00:00.000-05:00

Sometimes we get wild and crazy around the nest.

We cook.

Confession: I can cook and in cook I mean put lots of ingredients together from scratch and make something delectable and I used to do a great deal of it. My kitchen was permeated with the smells of chicken, soups, chili, roast...the list is endless. I would lovingly prepare foods that my husband enjoyed and my children tolerated. The chicks are not meat (any color) and potatoes gals most of the time. They eat, like, well, chicks. They go for fruits and veggies, salads and whole grains. They love lentils. The prof often shakes his head in amazement. It's not that they don't enjoy the occasional carnivorousness meal, it's that when given a choice between a grass fed burger and a bowl of lentils with peppers. It's lentils. Every. Time.

Dinners are healthy. Nutrient packed. Full of protein, minerals and vitamins, carbs and enough fat to keep little bodies growing. Food is usually natural and rarely processed. We do not often eat out to save money ... money that goes to keeping dance studios in business. Healthy but simple...Lentils and rice, hummus and pita, whole grain bread with peanut butter, pasta and fresh tomato sauce, soup and lots of it, gluten-free mac and cheese. We live on the wild side.

When my Daddy-O sent me a bean cooker shortly before Christmas, I laughed. OUT LOUD. Beans are his thing...he's into food marketing and sales and knows all sorts of things no one else does about that little protein and fiber packed food. Our family started eating a ton more of them since he took over this specialty; we've even grown quite fond of them. My Dad? He's amazing at soaking and sorting and spicing them so that they taste like the ones that come out of a can. I cheat. I don't use dry. I want my lentils ready-to-go. Poor dad...I must be such a disappointment to him.

I could've taken the gift one of two ways:

(1.) My father had given up on my ability to cook and was trying to show me the light
(2.) My father loved me and wanted to make my life easier and save my wrists from a can opener.

I went with the second option.

It took awhile with the crazy that was November and December, but Little Bit and I finally got our cook on this past weekend. It was the easiest thing I've ever done. Seriously. I decided on step two that if this bean cooker ever quit on me I'd promptly purchase a new one. I liked their page on fb (yes, it has twelve whole fans) and felt incredibly geekish. Friends, I've got to tell you...I'm never going back.

Not only did the entire process take less than an hour, it is healthful. There are no preservatives. It's so easy even a child can do it. I can make rice, soups, and a variety of other good things in it easily.

I'm in food love.

Little Bit and I sorted and rinsed and laughed. We spent an hour in the kitchen on a wet Saturday and made memories she'll treasure forever. My wrists didn't ache from a can opener and we have dinner for three different nights next week.

I'm thankful.

My Dad texted me the following after I messaged him pictures of my girl cooking and the beans we made:

After writing this...I'm wondering which of his girls is "getting so grown up"...his daughter or his middle grandchild.

Counting gifts:
-For a dad who loves me enough to send me a "just because present"
-For time in the kitchen without winces
-For dinner ready for a week to come

*Disclaimer: In no way was I compensated for my opinions or pictures of the EZ Bean Cooker. Yes, that's it name. Seriously. I am just a girl who received a gift and fell head over heels. No kickbacks for this whatsoever...

Five Minute Friday:Vivid

2012-01-20T19:19:00.001-05:00

Five minute Friday is here...five minutes where I'll write without editing, backtracking, or second guessing. Five minutes to write because I love it, because it frees me, if only for five minutes...

Today's topic? Vivid

Ready...Set...Go!

Vivid

In my mind I see all the colors of her...

purple for that hair color that went awry

Irish green for those sparkling eyes

creamy smooth of a face not oft touched by sun

tan spots spattering her cheeks

the blue of her living area which became a bedroom that matched mine

gray Iowa skies on a minus three December's eve

yellow happy returns lilies we placed in her garden

red for the cowl neck she wore

black, a cozy blanket her dad brought the last time he visited

distressed wood on the bedside table

crystal sparkles in the lime slush

a rainbow cascade in her laughter

pure sunshine out of her smile

She was vivid. Vibrant. Beautiful.

It's how I'll always see her in my heart..

Stop.

Here

2012-01-18T06:00:00.000-05:00

"Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you..." -Coldplay

I desire to follow the light. Have it create a fire in my bones for something more...I want to do more, be more, create more. In the little moments, where I'm not just a wife, mother, teacher, dance driver, housekeeper, and chef, my voice cries out from under the place I've hidden it. "I'm here," it says, "YOU'RE HERE. BE VISIBLE. Make me heard."

Has anyone else ever felt the like?

As women, as wives and mothers and career followers and seekers of word and truth and the often hard of life, perhaps...well, perhaps sometimes we lose our voices. I know we've worked to create them through suffrage and rights and equality laws, but really? In trying to prove that as women we're equal we've squelched our voice. The one inside. The smallish one that could roar if we'd let it. If we had the courage to be ourselves and not who we think we're supposed to be in order to fit into the mold we've poured for ourselves.

"How do I make you heard?", I ask, anticipating no answer, "How do I fix this?"

In the stillness, I pour over my heart. I listen. I quiet my body and pay attention. It takes energy I do not possess and searching I fail to anticipate. It goes on for a good portion of a night. Then, He answers. I need to keep the light in focus. I need to use it as more than just a cursory illumination, but a deeper one, one that will brighten the path and bring peace. I don't need to fix me. I need to let Him in to do it. Opening doors shut to pain and rejection and relationships where I was always less than. Listening for a voice that does not always mimic my own.

Being me. Visible. In the dark and in the light. Accepting myself as I am, flawed and broken and in need of fixing. A woman with a voice calling out from a small place, with unchased dreams and dinner on the stove. That's the woman He came to fix. To save. To fill up and make bright with light.

You are enough. You do enough. You are loved. I see you....Be a light. Reflect ME.

I hear all of these things in the quiet of the night.

He'd tell you the same thing, so I will state it here for your eyes to see and your heart to believe...if not today then someday soon.

YOU are enough. YOU do enough. YOU are loved. YOU are seen. Today and everyday I love you.

"Be still and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10

Tied Up Tuesday

2012-01-17T16:52:00.000-05:00

Tuesdays around the nest have done a one-eighty this month. It's more than a little bit of crazy that our "off" day you know the kind, the day where you don't have to leave the house for any outside activity has become perhaps the most filled day of the week. I want to follow that with an UGH and a drawn our sigh, but the chickadees enjoy flight, so I'll be kind and refrain.

I have, however, come up with some alliterative terms that go with our Tuesday schedule. They include:

Topsy-Turvy

Turbulent

Tiring

Today has gone from being our long schooling day to one where we start in the darkness. Instead of lunch at the normal hour, I pack the babes into the car and drive to one of the studios where the Grace Girl is putting in the hours to make her dreams a reality. The prof will pick her up when he's done with work roughly five hours after I've dropped her off and tonight she'll head home to finish reading Homer's The Odyssey after she grabs dinner. I'm thankful he's not travelling most weeks, as Little Bit will dance albeit much closer to the nest for an hour and a half this evening as well. Aye-yai-yai.

I've chosen to look for gifts in the crazy otherwise known as Tuesday. Today I'm counting uninterrupted time with my youngest among the greatest of these...we've laughed, she's read War Horse and has enjoyed two hours at the piano unbroken by her sister's schedule. She's practiced her lessons, composed some originals, and found the Laura Story song Blessings that a friend sent to us for the girls a few months ago. Ever my fearless chick, she's taken to the challenge and is sitting and playing it as I write. She is beautiful...inside and out.

Just like that, my Tuesday is looking up. It's funny how a change of focus, of perspective, can do that for a gal...

...A double strand of pearls might make the difference too...

I'm counting gifts with Ann ... will you join me?

1. Gift that made me laugh? A lovely face who seemed to already know my heart on a Skype call

2. Gift that made me pray? Hours awake in the stillness of the dark

3. Gift that made me quiet? The remembrance of a sweet friendship

Five Minute Friday : Awake

2012-01-13T14:18:00.001-05:00

Five minute Friday is here...five minutes where I'll write without editing, backtracking, or second guessing.

Today's topic? AWAKE.

Ready...Set...Go!

Awake

What I do before the sun climbs into the sky so that I am able to exercise and pray and have a few moments of time unblemished by noise and the thoughts of the day.

Awake

It was what I was not today when the alarm went off and I tried to pretend that I didn't hear it's call.

Awake

How I want my heart to be to the world that surrounds me, with all of the messy and beautiful combined.

Awake

The Grace Girl at 1:30 am trying to process all of the "new" around her. New classes, harder curriculum, new friends who have half a decade on her, new dance and new styles. So much new for a heart that is still just waking up... which leads to troubled bedtimes and notice of the passing hands of the clock.

Awake

AND

...grateful to be so.

STOP

Baby Steps

2012-01-10T05:00:00.000-05:00

In the days before Little Bit joined our world, I was the queen of moment capturing, printing, dating and filing. The pre-digital camera days were full of snapping shots on 800 speed film with our 35mm Minolta from every angle. As soon as the last image was taken I'd rush out to the Exchange we were military during those years and immediately have the film developed. When it returned, I'd promptly pick it up and meticulously caption and date the back of each picture, which would then be lovingly and immediately put into the next slot in the book. If I had a title for those years, it would be, "I dreamed of scrapping"...mostly because I planned on creating masterpieces with the images as soon as my Grace Girl went to school for a few hours a day.

Ha Ha Ha....this is me laughing at my decade ago self. I had such big dreams.

In late 2003 all of the organizational photo beauty ended. It mimicked those scenes in the movies where the main character allows all of her plants to die, except I was the leading lady and my 4x6 shots were the plants. I was in the middle of a difficult pregnancy with an almost four year old and a husband pursuing his PhD full time while also maintaining one weekend a month in the Reserves to give us extra income. I was proud of myself for simply remembering to capture memories. I was trilled when I was able to date them accurately it's an odd gift of mine, being able to look at a picture and recall the date down to the day of the week even years later and then get them back in the envelope with their negatives.

With the summer of 2004 came a new babe, an apnea monitor, Synagis shots, and a digital camera. In tears one fall day I told the then-to-be prof I couldn't do it all and the baby was going to grow up without any developed pictures and she'd think she was adopted and we loved her sister more and....and he promptly went to the store and bought me a new camera. A digital one. Sigh. Reason one million and three I love that man...I planned on printing the digital files monthly and putting them straight-away into books. Planned being the operative term; it never happened. For a few months I printed and labeled. Then I went to online dating and labeling. Then just remembering to back them up. By this point Little Bit was almost four and we flew South and took up a new residence. I reveled in the fact that in just a year, both kids would be in school and I could organize my photo disaster. I'd make memory books of their first years...I'd put all of it in books. I'd convert all of the 35mm film negatives to digital to further save precious memories. I was still dreaming the big dreams.

Our first year south was the stuff great tragedies are made of...one child adjusting well and one wanting to go "home". She broke our hearts with her sweet eyes and mournful cry. Schooling here wasn't all it was cracked up to be; the "gifted" program met just once a week for an hour and she was a full year ahead in all subjects even though grade wise nothing had changed. She was bored. Lonely. Frustrated. In the hope of continuing her adoration of learning I offered to bring her home. Yep. Homeschooling. A new world for all of us. Suddenly, my kids are going to school freedom had vanished. Just. Like.That. I waved goodbye to it with all but one regret...my pictures...my memories.

We jumped headfirst into homeschooling and I tackled it with everything in me. I'm not sure how the kids and I survived that first overly ambitious and stressful year, but that's another story. We also began competitive dance here we'd done it for a year up north previous to the big move and doubled our dance classes. My free time went from caring for a most delightful and easygoing preschooler during the day and having a clean, well-organized home worthy of house beautiful to me crying every Friday night because I couldn't get it all done. I'd always been the girl to do it all myself. My digital files? Just as they came off the camera. Not dated...but backed up. At least they were backed up....

Fast forward to this summer. I purchased a new hard drive to triple back-up the files as well as a scanner to digitally restore the early years shots and save all of the negatives as files. I was feeling ambitious. I vaguely recalled my big dreamer self of yesteryear and she made me smile. Surely during the long days of summer I'd be able to get those photos done once and for all. I purchased ten new albums to put everything into, as I'd given up the idea of scrapbooking until the kids didn't need me as much. I sorted, labeled, organized by year. It was beautiful. My girl earned a free trip to Nationals for her dance solo...we traveled to NYC for almost two weeks. My photo queen ways crashed. We came home and it was time to schedule curriculum and start dance and do workshops. Summer was over. The scanner sat, unopened, behind my comfy schooling chair. We started Algebra and English and Latin 1 and threw ourselves into academics. We lived. I continued to capture our moments and some of the guilt over the pictures began to wane...it only took a decade. I decided that it was more important to catch the milestones than get them into books...that all of my regret at the not having done was far more detrimental than the not actually doing. I decided I'd work in baby steps to get things on track. I backed up all of our videos that the man promised he'd edit onto a drive. On a cold, miserable day in October I gathered all of our VHS and 8MM tapes and took them in to be converted by a professional to files I could easily save to the new two terabyte monster I'd purchased to preserve memories. Baby steps. Two weeks ago I pulled all of the files off of my phone that I'd edited and shared and posted. I sent them in for processing within three months of taking them. Baby steps.

Why am I sharing all of this? Because you can do it too...that thing you think you'll never get under control or that organizational pitfall you look at and then squint your eyes tight at so it seems tiny and maybe like you're imagining it??? You can do it. You CAN.

You can dream big.

Even it it takes a decade to get started.

One Word 2011- ACCEPT

2012-01-09T14:30:00.001-05:00

I love the concept of one little word by Ali Edwards.

LOVE IT.

I spent a great deal of time at the close of 2010 and beginning of 2011 deciding which word I should choose for the year...

I hemmed

I hawed

I prayed

I desired to choose a word that would remind me, encourage me, challenge me.

In my heart, I knew the term that should be put into practice...I fought it. Tooth and nail. I did not desire to use this word in my every day, in the hard. I'd always prided myself on being a go-with-the-flow gal. This one word? It would show the inner workings of my heart and challenge me to not just say I was okay with things but, rather, BE okay with them.

For.

Real.

My word?

ACCEPT

Accept. One little word that rocked me to the core in 2011. I thought that my word would relate mostly to my health. That's what I planned on it relating too. You know, because, um, I'm the one in charge. Wink.

As I was blogging in my head throughout the last few weeks of 2011 *yes, I realize this is probably an ineffective method of communication with all of you sweet souls who stop by here to see what's going on, and for this I apologize* it hit me that accept was the most perfect word for our year. Burying it deep in my heart, adding it to each prayer, asking someone who knew me well to challenge me if she didn't see me making it a part of my day.

When my word chose me otherwise known as when the Lord put a word on my heart I had no idea the roller coasters I would ride emotionally and physically. He did.

Through disease progression, loss of mobility, friend's illnesses, monumental changes in schedule, triumphs, tragedies, death... throughout all of it I chose to accept. I didn't realize early on how invaluable making this word part of me would be to my heart. He did.

Because...

He IS.

Once again I'm hemming and hawing. I'm praying. I'm asking for wisdom as I ponder words that float though my brain. I am being both thoughtful and intentional.

But this year? I'm thinking about choosing a less loaded word. A word like fun. Grin.

That's not really true...I just wish it was...I'm waiting on my heart.

Do you do something special every year? It could be making a resolution or choosing a word...It could be a list of things you hope to accomplish? If you'd like prayer for it, share it within the comments, and I commit to praying for it and for you daily.

As for my 2012 word? I'll be sure to let you know...

Three Simple Questions

2011-12-14T12:48:00.001-05:00

Where are my thoughts today?

Am I stressing over preparations, schedules, kids, work?

Where is my focus?

Is it inward or am I striving to be a light?

What is the condition of my heart?

Am I taking the time to cultivate relationships with others?

I've been asking myself these three questions every morning before I rustle the sheets and exit the covers. In the time between my eyes starting to flutter open and the pulling on of my sneakers, I'm working on being heart intentional.

I've found that it's not enough lately to simply pray before I rise...my thoughts are too scattered with the day scrolling behind my lids.

I have to give it all to Him...

He knows my needs, my plans, my hopes. He was there first. He created and gave me this beautiful life that I am so very privileged to experience. I do not take that lightly. I do sometimes lack in the remembrance of giving it all back to Him. I tend to take and hold on tightly, rather than releasing when the time comes... In the asking of three simple questions, I remember...It's not mine. It is His. He came to have a relationship with me.

I pause in wonder...

He came as a baby to poor parents. He was born in a manger, full of stinky, loud animals. He was human. He knows what this world holds and how we think, feel, and react. He came as a baby...because HE loves us.

His heart was intentional, His thoughts were for us, His focus was on a weary, dark world.

He came at Christmas.

It's about the coming. The showing up. The willingness to be used. That is what I'm hearing when I ask myself those three questions.

What do you hear when you ask yourself questions such as these? How are you preparing your heart for Christmas?

"Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you;

he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find

a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger..."

Luke 2: 11-12 NIV

Finding the Merry

2011-12-13T12:52:00.000-05:00

Congratulations...

The winner of the David Crowder Band "Oh for Joy" album is Kristin Smith.

I loved hearing all about your favorite carols and songs for this season; it seems that for all of us, music is both a heart and memory aid.

. . . .

It's been a crazy few weeks around here. The prof has been travelling and doing a ton of project work which translates to I've been going it alone since he went to Spain in October; hopefully this will change in the next few weeks so he may actually enjoy the holiday. I've been searching for a new dance studio for the chicks loooong story where their hearts as well as there feet will find joy. Christmas decisions, shopping, ordering, wrapping and then sending have been a solo experience USPS is a super fun place to stand in line for an hour. Add all of this to the normal homeschooling, wife/mother duties, bill paying and house maintaining and I've not felt a whole lot like myself lately. I've not felt very merry.

All that said, I know I'm not alone. Most women experience pieces of all the above during Christmas. Single, married, kids or not, we feel responsible for making sure the merry is in the Christmas.

We expect too much of ourselves.

We watched our mothers pull it all together seemingly with small effort. The homemade cookies, beautifully decorated fresh-cut tree, lights on every outdoor bush.

I'm not that mother. Neither was my mother, although she did do most of those things very well and appeared to be so to the outside world.

My mom baked and decorated well into the early hours of the day. Everything was from scratch. She was our room mother, painting ornaments with Santa faces for our classmates and organizing elaborate parties back in the day when public school allowed them. Our tree was perfect. Every light just so. The exterior of our little home was inviting and well lit and no bulb needed replacing. But inside? We were on edge and it wasn't something out of a Hallmark channel movie. My parents were often at each other, the dog ate any and all toys we left on the floor and the peed by the door when she didn't get enough attention, and sometimes it took four tries to get the homemade pie crust right.

I work at NOT replicating my Christmas memories for my children.

My goal here in the nest is to create some merry.

Instead of baking I head to our local spot for goodies. I'm sure the mixer will get pulled out at some point in the near future for a batch of shortbread cookie making, but until the schedule clears I'm not going to stress about perfection and home-baked goodness. If I stay up trying to be the one who always gets it done, I'm half the mother/wife/teacher I need to be in the morning. I've learned that downtime is as important, if not more so, than confectionery goodness. I can pay a bit more to create that for our family.

I ordered ~~almost~~ all of the gifts online this year. There was no perusing of the shelves or walking miles from the car to the store. I didn't do it. I did miss being out and having comparison choices in front of me, but the whole find, order, arrive at the door concept was incredibly attractive. Note to self: purchase cookies for the poor postman who keeps running up to my door and ringing the bell to announce the arrival of gifts.

My girls lament the fact that we've not decorated outdoors. I usually hang roping garland strung with lights the length of the wrap-around porch. Sigh. On this one, I feel a bit bad, but when given the choice between three hours spent on outdoor decorating and that same period being used for catching up on history with the grace girl, it's history any day of the week. We've got an incredibly challenging curriculum in Omnibus 1 -- The Odyssey and the complete Narnia series are on tap this month. It takes time and patience, and those are two things I'd rather give to my babe than the lights and evergreen boughs.

All that being said, our home was full decorated by mid-November. We've enjoyed Christmas cookies, lights hung on garland which hangs from the banister, a lovely tree, and plenty of carols and cocoa. I work on making memories with my babes that will last, that are free from stressed undertones and harsh words. I've work on putting the merry back in Christmas, even it means that some of the what's traditionally included looks to be missing this year.

But that which seems to be missing? It's all in the eye of the beholder.

I encourage you to find some merry and stop lamenting the missing...to figure out traditions that work for you and your family...to give up a little perfect and find a lot of joy.

Carols

2011-12-08T12:04:00.001-05:00

Music is a HUGE part of our home. My Little Bit hums and sings and twitters everywhere she goes and in all she does...much to the dismay of her older sister. I sang to the chicks in the womb, we play tunes constantly, and both girls have a strong affinity for the piano. Silent Night? Not in our home. Smirk.

With it being the Christmas season, we've changed up our playlists and found new favorites for the Pandora stations. I've always felt that Bing, Frank, and Judy do it best with the classics, but this year we've expanded our repertoire outside of the norms to include David Crowder Band's new album, Oh For Joy. It is honestly the best Christmas album I've heard in ages. Seeing as it's Christmas, and giving is so much better than receiving, I'll be gifting an iTunes copy of the album if you leave a comment below by midnight on December 10th. I know hearing it will be good for your heart, your spirit, your joy levels.

My all time favorite carol is Oh Holy Night. All. Time. Favorite. Here's DCB doing it justice:

What are some of your favorite carols and songs?

A Satin Ribbon

2011-12-07T18:55:00.001-05:00

The tree comes out the weekend after my birthday, usually going up amid shouts and cheers for our boys in blue as I carefully unwrap precious ornaments given decades ago.

The small pieces of cloth, glass, metal, and wood are treasures in our home; Each piece gave me pause.

I stood, remembering the friend who so lovingly stitched our "Yard of the Month" ornament while we were in the Navy together. Those years when the grace girl was toddling around and I was ripping out bushes and changing landscaping in officer housing...giving attention to something that stayed done for more than four minutes with an active babe in the house. It was the three of us, a time where work didn't come home with the man because it was classified and our nights and weekends were all ours to shower our girl with stories and play and attention.

Then came the block "M" for the years of the PhD and little bit joining us...the hospital she was born in bearing the same title as the University where her daddy studied, taught, and did research. The place where she spent weeks in the NICU and the place we still support with our hearts on autumnal Saturdays.

The glass heart caught my eye and it caused a deep breath, knowing it was on her tree too, we each had one, tying us together.

A littler lower sits the log cabin cloth, quilted by my gram's hand years ago, playing a song and reminding me of all that was good in her.

I gazed at the faces of my babes in frames scattered round the tree, with two shoes, four years apart, hung on the horizontal and remembered how we searched high and low to find that very same ornament for little bit's first Christmas.

I found Cinderella, nestled in the branches, gently twirling her skirt and recalled the year we went to Disney World and all a chubby cheeked three year old wanted to do was go and visit "Cinder-hella". She was almost cherubic in her look then, a look long past as she's now reaching my cheekbone and sharing my shoes. But that year? She loved princesses, the ornament, and the replica of Cinderella's Castle she received as a gift.

Front and center went joy and the ballet slippers. One for each of my chicks. Full of spirit and grace and laughter.

I thought the tree was finished. I thought it had everything it needed on it this year.

Until tonight...

....When a most treasured and appreciated package arrived on my porch. A new ornament from a new friend...one I've actually been blessed with hugging in real life. Across the miles, she included me in her extended family Christmas tradition. Her beautiful script flowing across the front of her card, my eyes all welly, I bounded down the stairs, grabbed a hook, and finished our tree.

A simple satin ribbon sets it apart from the others, but I think it looks like it's always been there, don't you? It made me think about the ways in which we hold our memories and how they are triggered. How sight and tradition are such powerful parts of our story.

I'm so thankful for friends, new and old. For hearts that stretch across state lines and hug ours in unexpected and appreciated ways. For emails that share openly. For prayer requests. For girls who nestle in the hallows. For the first flakes of snow that made their appearance on the way home from tumbling class...

Eyes Wide Open

2011-12-05T20:43:00.001-05:00

"The secret to joy is to keep seeking God when we struggle to see where He is."

-Ann Voskamp

Sometimes, the easy thing to do is give up.

...to stop trying.

....to stop caring.

...to stop doing.

We struggle to find Him in the places that are shadowy. We don't look closely; we merely glance, then sigh in frustration at our seeming night blindness.

In the dark, we shut our eyes, squinting them tightly against any light that may peek under the lids.

A bright that desires to come in, that steals under cracks and corners and shows as a sliver and reflection in places where we try to hide from it.

Light that warms, heals, brings rest to the weary soul.

It's in the struggle that we find out who we are, what we're made of, who He's making of us in the glorious mess we've made of ourselves.

In the struggle we find that it's not as much about seeing Him as it is the knowing Him.

It's about finding light in reflection.

In the shadows.

Our God is right there with us in dark as well as bright.

It is all about having eyes that open in the dark and gaze through the fog, seeking the clear view just beyond our grasp.

That's where the joy is.

It's in eyes wide open on the journey.

Grateful for....

eyes that open so very wide

Counting Blessings

2011-11-21T12:46:00.001-05:00

"We give thanks not because of how we feel...but

because of Who He is..."

-Ann Voskamp

This is a week of thanksgiving, in word, in deed, in practice.

A week where we pause and count our blessings, give our thanks.

A week to remember...

strength

growth

sorrows

laughter

upheaval

peace

joy

There is gratitude in the remembrance; allowing ourselves to visit the year with fresh eyes and an open heart, seeing what we may have missed in the hurried of the day.

Giving thanks in all things, because His purpose is present even in the shadows. They shape us, define us, allow us to find a strength within that could only come from Him. In the dark, we are hallowed out and space is shaped for Him to come in. Our invitation, most often, is when we are in the dark places.

The thanksgiving? It is a response of gratitude. Of joy. It is an acknowledgement of the One who gives us all good things in His time.

His time. Not ours.

This holiday we celebrate once a year? This thankful we express on a Thursday in late November as the last leaves fall from the trees and family gathers 'round? This heart response? It should be a regular guest at my table. Welcome. Invited. Cherished. Nurtured.

It's easy to pick apart the foul, the ugly, the insignificant. I'm challenging myself to continue to hold tight to the grateful. The thankful. The response He calls for and I long to give at the end of a long day, week, month, year...

I count the gifts every day. Every. Day.

I search out the beauty in the ordinary. She may be hard to see, but she's always there, waiting to surprise me at the most unexpected of times.

I cherish. Big time.

It's not easy. It's a choice, this thanksgiving in the heart. I make it because He loved me. First. Always. He created it all...

He created YOU.

I'm thankful.

"Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you

were called in one body. And be thankful..."

-Col 3:15 ESV

Physical Therapy

2011-11-17T15:59:00.001-05:00

Sometimes, the rain and temperature drop combine for a caustic combination on the body.

I tell my chicks that our walk for today is on hold, seeing as one of my ribs doesn't feel much like cooperating with the rest of the cage. Sitting up straight is virtually impossible. Deep breaths take work.

UGH.

The eldest conspires with the little. They are supposed to be studying for a Latin exam as I lay flat on the floor, the only position offering relief at this point.

A plan has been reached.

"You take her arms and I'll grab her legs and we'll both pull, okay?"

... WHAT???

Tiny hands encircle my wrists, stronger ones grasp at my ankles. The dog decides to come and lick my face. I'm trapped. Protesting quickly turns into belly laughter as they both start pulling in opposite directions.

Round 2, all pulling at once...I grabbed the camera between giggles

I'm not in any less discomfort as I type this, but a smile nudges at the corner of my cheeks....

Physical therapy for the day? Check.

Heart therapy? Double check.

Today I'm thankful for girls who do the silly to make my heart smile even when I'm not there yet...

Puddles

2011-11-16T14:37:00.001-05:00

When life gives you puddles...

Grab a partner in crime

Take a leap

Hold on tightly

Laugh with abandon

Rest

Make a big splash

Empty your boots

Begin afresh

Unexpected

2011-11-15T13:09:00.001-05:00

;
Last week, I missed the Gypsy Mama's Five Minute Friday. We were travelling to Greenville, SC, for a dance competition and convention for our grace girl, and I don't have wireless in the vehicle.

Today I'm downright exhausted from the travel, the waiting, the stress and three consecutive mornings which began before five a.m., but I desire to write. I just need a bit of inspiration.

So, I'm choosing a grace offered to me in the form of "Unexpected"...

Five minutes, no editing, no turning back. Writing for the joy of it all...

Unexpected
. . . . .
Unexpected. The word which defines six out of the last seven days.

Synonymous with the likes of : unforseen, unlooked-for, surprising, abrupt.

The definition of my heart at each new turn and bump and rise in the road.

The events of last week were completely out-of-the-blue. How we dealt with them was even more surprising. Proud and shocked in equal measure at how the professor blanketed his babes with protection. Amazed at the maturity of the chicks. Thankful for the support of friends especially those here in this world of mine and family who offered support. The love was unlooked-for but completely appreciated. My heart? Humbled.

Our girl danced with her whole heart this weekend, which was not unexpected. She is one that goes full speed ahead and chases her dream with abandon. This child, our eldest, does everything full force. We were hopeful that all of her dedication and effort would show. Complete precision as she competed and earned a second overall for her solo...maturity in a situation far beyond her years. She went on to compete all weekend at the convention for a title which would earn her a repeat trip to NYC (her goal for the year). On Sunday, her name was called above all of the runners up. Awarded the Junior Female VIP title -- unexpected. Deserved.

Today, I'm thankful for the unexpected in our lives. The way it challenges and grows us beyond measure as we discover strength within and reach for dreams far beyond a normal grasp.

Stardust Underfoot

2011-11-14T13:15:00.001-05:00

"It is never easy to keep reaching for dreams. Strength and

courage can sometimes be lonely friends. But for those

who do reach for stars, they walk in stardust."

This weekend, we chased dreams with our grace girl.

She reached.

She sparkled.

Joy was in her eyes.

She soared.

Stardust was underfoot.

First Step

2011-11-10T11:23:00.000-05:00

Her maturity astounds me.

How this girl woman at the most unexpected of times shows me how to accept what seems unthinkable and unfair and cruel.

Her arms wrap all the way around me, the cap of her hair no longer nestled at my chin but at my high cheekbone.

No tears are shed.

Her sister, a wisp of a lass, sobs when I break the news.

My grace girl? She envelopes the little in her chest and repeats what I am already murmuring..."I'm so sorry, sweet pea, so sorry...we'll find something else, we'll make it alright...He'll make it work out the way it is supposed to..."

I believe it.

I believe that there is a bigger plan in place in our lives.

I know I am not privy to all of the details.

I trust, most times, blindly.

I incorporate the trust, the belief, the letting go into my life and consequently theirs.

Faith.

Not that things are all going to turn out rosy, but that they'll turn out according to His plan.

I'm thankful I'm not in charge of this ship, because today? Today we are in choppy waters. No threat of sinking...but yesterday we did take on some water. We hemmed and hawed and heaved buckets, circled up as a family, and chose a new course.

Today I'm trusting that the God of the universe has His hand in all of the messy as well as the beautiful in all of our lives. I'm not sure what the next step is, but I am willing to do the footwork.

For me, today, that's what belief and faith look like...taking that first step.

Living Big

2011-11-08T13:27:00.002-05:00

My friend, Sara, lived life loud.

Her voice was heard far and wide.

She had weight in this world.

She was...

beautiful

loved

cherished

spirit-filled

Sara lived in such a way that she will be carried, in speech and heart, forever by those who followed her blog and walked beside her in life.

On Sunday, after an afternoon spent tossing leaves and smiling for the camera, I tuned in to the internet campus of Crosspoint church. I spent some time in worship that was out of this world phenomenal. I had a box of tissues at the ready in case my heart came out through my eyes.

It did

Blake spoke of happiness, of joy, and of the difference between the two. It was the same talk we'd had with our girls that very morning. Sigh.

He stated it was a choice, this joy choosing.

My sentiments exactly

The sermon was thought provoking and challenging and incredibly well done.

Just like one of my favorite people who no longer treads ground down here

A few months ago, she and I would've gone to this service together, which we sometimes did on Sunday nights when the chicks didn't need me for anything. We'd sit and watch together and pretend we were side by side, then discuss what we'd learned and felt and heard.

Two nights ago?

I'm sure we were.

To link to the sermon, notes, or audio, click here...

Or, if you'd prefer, just hit play below...

I love you, sweet friend. Thanks for living in such a way that HE was visible in you...

Action Verbing

2011-11-07T11:43:00.001-05:00

Courtesy of the fabulous Abby at Me.Photography

A Whirlwind Weekend:

Dance practicing

Shrub trimming

Lazy Susan transplanting

Worm playing

Mud covering

Football yelling

Extra sleeping

Pew sitting

Mercy learning

Hair curling

Outfit finding

Shutter Clicking

Look sharing

Heart smiling

Hand holding

Kissing

Internet churching

Tears falling

Memories circling

Joy choosing

Good nighting

Sweet snuggling

Whispered praying

Eyes shutting

. . . .

That's what our weekend looked like...What happened in yours?

Five Minute Friday: Remember

2011-11-04T13:21:00.000-04:00

Today I'm linking up with The Gypsy Mama and trying out her five minute Friday. For five minutes I'll write, unscripted and unedited. Today's topic? Remember.

Ready, set....Go.

REMEMBER

I can't remember what it's like to live not feeling every joint I've been given.

The joke around the nest is that I still have all of my original parts.

Every single one, even when I feel that they need a lube and oil.

I'm grateful.

The chicks mouths gaped in awe on on an evening not too long ago as I told stories they probably thought they were fairy tales about...

Dancing

Playing soccer year round

Running miles, long and hard, the breath coming from the deep and the exhilaration filling all parts of me

Remembering...

...twirling in shoes pink and soft, feeling beautiful.

...long hours on the field in all weather, on and off for over a decade.

... how it felt when my feet barely touched the soil and I was lost to everything except the thoughts churning in my head. Miles logged daily to compete with the man who would someday be daddy to the blue eyed girls sitting rapt before me.

...the way the sun kissed the top of my head and the fluid motion I was able to continue as I pulled off a fleece to cool my too warm body.

...freedom. In every step, as my legs worked as God intended in a rhythm which caused my heart to soar.

...when it all ended and the shoes went back on the shelf, to be used only for gardening and looking the part.

. . . .

I remember, but I do not regret.

My thankful outweighs the heavy of the memory.

I finish up the story, laughing with my babes at how different life is now.

Slower
Quieter
More purposeful

Grateful for the remembering of fall days spent flying...

If only for a little while.

Sunrise

2011-11-03T10:15:00.000-04:00

"Something about the sunrise

reminds me of your

faithfulness..."

-Ten Shekel Shirt

I awoke to the dark

Lying in silence, thoughts swirled

Music filled my head

The lyrics a balm to my soul

Praising in the darkness

Praising from the shadows

Praising because I can

I should

I will

Rising and dressing, tiptoeing down the stairs

Phone in hand

Greeted by this

Coincidence?

Never.

Gratitude?

Always.

"From the rising of the sun unto the going down of the same, the Lord's name is to be praised."

-Psalm 113:3

Swirling in my brain? Ocean by Ten Shekel Shirt

Ocean (Album Version) by Ten Shekel Shirt

Years Pass...

2011-11-01T15:05:00.001-04:00

This morning I got lost in the remembering...

Instead of bustling through my schedule and checking things off the to-do list, I paused and looked over my shoulder

Carving with my Dad (I was 12 days short of 5 years)

Belle 2004

October 2005

2006 Cinderella and a tired trick-or-treater

Fern and my little pumpkin 2007 (yes, we got mileage out of the pumpkin)

First Year in TN 2008

Oct 31, 2009 Disney for Daddy's work conference

Glamour Girl and Pebbles October 31, 2010

Little Witch (Professor Petite) 2011

As I was perusing the Halloween shots, I came across this one, taken seven years ago today...

November 1, 2004

Seven years ago...

My girls were four and the all important half and almost three months ... I thought I'd never sleep again and wondered how I was going to shop for Christmas with two little people. I recall making dinner and thinking it was strangely quiet...too quiet. I peaked my head around the doorway from the kitchen to the main room and found them like this. I remember it like it was yesterday. Sigh. Little all secure on her sister's lap and big fully in charge of the situation.

We lived in a grad school ~~shoe box~~ townhouse on a large university campus where, on any given autumn Saturday, we listened for the roar of the stadium if the windows were thrown open. We owned one car, didn't have a dog, and the man was serving in the reserves while working on a PhD full time. It was busy. Chaotic. Challenging. Amazing.

November 1, 2011

Today the man has the degree, we're living in the south, we have a home and a dog. We still cheer for the same team and the chicks still love being together. It's busy. Chaotic. Challenging. Amazing.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

Burrs In Her Hair

2011-10-31T13:15:00.000-04:00

She walked out bundled, braided, carrying a peanut butter sandwich and applesauce just in case she did not prefer the dinner available at the farm.

One quick kiss, a reminder to stay with the group as they explored the maze.

A bus ride of over an hour...on the big yellow tank she used to take to and from school each day before we made the move to homeschooling. Her exclamation priceless as she was dropped off, "Look! Number 227...I rode it every day. What are the odds?"

Flutters in my stomach as I let her fly

Random texts arrived throughout the hours she was away with sparse details. The lack of communication showing, more than anything else, that fellowship and laughter were plentiful in the dark, crisp see your breath air of this late October nigh.

Time alone with my little, rare in years past, is becoming plentiful. My grace girl is growing up.

A text that the bus is exiting the freeway her little sister long since put to bed and the man, just home from Spain, heads to pick her up.

I waited in the rocker, trying to appear nonchalant about her arrival back in the nest, failing miserably.

The grinding of the garage door signaled her homecoming. She bustled in, face rosy from the cold and aglow with the excitement of her adventure.

Her dialogue almost too fast to follow, she told tales of ...

lads wearing shorts

fried Oreos

a hayride where she thought she'd freeze

how someone jumped on the table and of her sandwich falling in the dirt

the corn maze where her group finished first

one black widow spider on her pumpkin,then her subsequent scream and toss of it

a bus ride home, full of rowdy and chaos and pure fun

I sat, listening, taking in her tone and all that's unspoken about the growing up that went on tonight.
Gently I brushed her locks, removing burrs caught when boys jumped from behind stalks to scare her...treasuring the sweet smell of hay coming off of her head as she recounted her night. She grabbed a snack and headed to bed after kissing us, her feet on the stairs quiet as not to wake our little.

She's growing up

This morning, she woke, full of stories and smiles and laughter in the remembering of details.

With a rapt audience she related her experiences...

Listening again, I took it all in...

Capturing them as my heart does...Flannel clad with earnest eyes and a knowing smile, the best of friends never missing a detail in the other's life. The sweetness of sisters, growing up together.

. . .

Cherishing the moments

Cultivating Gratitude

2011-10-27T15:03:00.000-04:00

We're ~~big~~ HUGE believers in giving thanks.

Showing gratitude in both word and deed.

In our home we pen thank you notes up the wazoo (I'm quite sure it's a lost art form at this point).

At dinner, we tell one amazing thing that happened in our day and describe why we're thankful for it.

We carry lunch sacks of food in the car to hand out to the homeless we encounter at stoplights. You can laugh...my man did when he first heard about it...

We regularly donate to food pantries and rescue ministries.

When we pray? We start with our thanks and then move on to the other things...

However, I've found one of the best ways to teach the girls gratitude in giving is in the sponsorship of Compassion children. We write letters, send birthday and Christmas gifts, and sponsor monthly. Our chicks love hearing about the lives they touch on the other side of the globe. Our hearts, as parents, melt when they suggest purchasing goats and chickens as gifts. Smile.

We're trying to teach them that it is both a choice and a responsibility to give. We desire that the gratitude they feel for what we've been given will pour our and bless others, near and far. We hope to demonstrate by example that it is far better to give than to receive.

How do you cultivate gratitude in your heart and home? We do it with compassion...for each other and for those we've yet to meet, with a heart of thanksgiving.

Finding Her

2011-10-26T19:21:00.000-04:00

Today, I felt her everywhere but could find her nowhere.

So, I did something I've neglected to do for well over a month...I grabbed my phone and
headed outdoors, a daily occurrence when she was alive.

I heard her in the crisp fall leaves beneath our feet

I saw her reach in the arms of my eldest, flung heavenward with

face upturned to the sunlight

She was there in the solitary leaf gently drifting from the

pile, unconcerned with remaining in the neat bundle

of all the others....

She was exuberantly present in this grin and in the joyous

release of leaves as they flew high and fluttered down slowly

in the warm fall air...

I'm quite sure I felt her here as I gazed out

into the quiet of the backyard as the sun began

to set behind one of her favorite trees...

(note the sparkle in the grass which only appeared via the shot)

So, I looked with my heart and I found her everywhere....

In the beauty present, all around me, that my eyes were missing due to the veil of my grief

In everything we enjoyed together, from the sound of crunching leaves to the

feeling of sunshine warming our hair

In the making of freckles on skin paled by days spent inside

In the taking time to capture the moment, as I would have, if we were doing life

together as we so often did

In the laughter of my dancing girl as she looked skyward and suddenly said, "Oh, Aunt Sara would

adore a day such as this...the smell of fall, the blue of the sky, the crispy leaves....remember

when...."

In the breaking of my heart in her remembering

In allowing myself to do something that was like breathing when it came to her, I found her. Shutter clicking in capturing moments, something we did seamlessly together, I felt a small piece of the empty fill, if only for a second

I saw Him, too...

In His knitting of our hearts, in His presence never leaving me as I lost her, in the friends I've found because of her, in the beauty of His creation that I'll never take for granted again because I've seen it through her eyes...

Tonight, as the sun sets, I am choosing to give thanks in all things and for all things...even in the pain and the dark and hard. In the messy of my heart, I choose Him...and I choose to remember and hold on to the memory that is now her.

Pearl Buttons

2011-10-25T16:35:00.000-04:00

She knows how to stand, both feet firmly planted on the floor, without the slightest movement.

A picture of stillness, so rare in someone her age.

My girl, the one who twirls everywhere, never skips a beat when I ask her to grind to a halt.

Patient

Sweet

Understanding

She knows the quiet concentration required; statuesque she remains.

My internal dialogue is awash with frustrated tones, pursed lips, hints of anger, and an occasional word that I'd never speak out of my head crossing my brain....pure frustration for her that at seven she's prohibited from bounding around as I try to catch the back of her frock, a normal for most.

Our eyes lock in the mirror, and she smiles gently at me. She asks, "Would you like me to find something different this morning? I can always change this afternoon...." Her baby blues showing empathy as she holds my gaze.

Sigh

"No, I'm almost there, only two left...", my words trailing off as I once again tackle the task at hand.

So she stands. Perfectly still. In silence.

Hearing me take a deep breath and exhale, she knows I'm done. Immediately she spins, the skirt lifting airily as she beams in my direction and says joyously, "YOU did it!"

I look her squarely in the eye, reminding her it was a joint effort and I couldn't have done it without her.

buttons down her back

. . .

Today I'm thankful for pearl discs that fit into minuscule holes, baby blue eyes, and for my girl who possesses unending patience and a beautiful heart.

Remembering the Now

2011-10-24T08:00:00.000-04:00

Overheard in the nest ...

"If I was a sewing machine manual, where would I be?"

"That seriously sounded a whole lot like Jonathan Edwards..."

"I think he was drunk. That's the only thing that could explain it."

"Get out of the toilet! Toilets are NOT for drinking out of...Now she smells like a toilet!" (in reference to the dog)

"She's better than I am at piano...even if I practiced as much as she does there's really no way I'd be that skilled. But I don't care if I'm amazing at piano, so it doesn't really matter."

"Mama, I really appreciate you sewing my antlers for me."

"What does the ___word mean?" My response: "Where did you hear THAT?"

"How many people does it take to sew a comb on a headband? Two...especially when the Mom's hands don't work and the wearer has to hold the elastic while said mother sews with both hands. Two people. Four hands. Pitiful."

"Do you think they'll realize we're using a bra strap as a chin attachment?"

"How about we both sleep with you? We'll lay on each side of you and we promise not to move..."

"I felt such a peace, Mama. I knew that there was no more pain. I felt it during church before you told me."

"You found her. Thank you for finding her."

"Daddy said WHAT? He showered in the dark because you have to use your room card to turn the lights on in the walls of the hotel? Where is he? What kind of establishment is he sleeping in?"
. . . .

I love the chicks.

I'm thankful for their expressive nature, their intelligence, their sarcasm. I don't want to forget them at these ages and stages.

They grow quickly, they change so; The big goes from independent and knowledgeable to needing reassurance in a heartbeat. My little, full of life and so purposeful with her words. I want to capture them here forever. I want to...

Squish them down

Stop them from growing up.

I can't. I shouldn't. I know that it's impossible. My head knows it. My heart works toward it.

Today, something is different. Today I hear, "Remember to treasure them. Love them with all you have. Give them the patience you don't feel. Listen to their words. Look into their eyes. See their hearts."

Today I look to savor their hearts.

I listen to their words.

I capture them, enjoying them in this moment.

I hug them longer, tighter, with more purpose as I snuggle them underneath their covers.

Choosing to remember the now with gratitude, I kiss them goodnight, knowing that tomorrow is another day to cherish.

Thankful for our tomorrows...

For antlers to sew

For Largo on the piano

For great literature and thoughtful conversation

For small hands that still reach for mine as we cross a street...

For the gift of seeing life through their eyes.

Rain

2011-10-19T20:55:00.002-04:00

"Thanks for showing me that even on the darkest, rainiest days

the sun is still there, just behind the clouds, waiting

to shine again." -Lisa Harlow

It's dark and rainy here in our neck of the woods. It was lovely yesterday...glorious actually. The sun shone and the sky was the most beautiful shade of cerulean with the thermometer reading well over eighty degrees. Tonight? It's in the forties and the chicks are asking me to purchase their winter coats. Yesterday we wore shorts. Today it was cozy grey sweats.

Ah, change...I feel it with every part of me. My body told me the mercury had dropped in the wee hours of the morning, as my sweet husband whispered, "Are you sure you want to go exercise?" I half groaned in the affirmative, planted my feet on the floor, and propelled myself forward knowing that my time on the machine would be longer than usual to combat the gloomy skies. My heart feels it, as it's now been over a month since my sweet friend Sara went radio silent. My mind is buzzing with school and dance schedules as well as the dread that comes when the man travels out of the country if only for a bit over a week.

Change

Isn't is amazing how quickly it comes about? How, in the blink of an eye, our lives seem to spin as if on a dime and we're headed in a completely new direction? Honestly, it's the speed of change that seems to throw me for a loop.

When that dime spins, I choose to remember I am not alone. I have my chicks, whose laughter holds echoes of sweet promises yet to be and whose eyes shine and sparkle and look to me to make the most of every second we are together. There are friends with hearts as wide as the day is long, and a husband who chooses to come home to me every day no matter what. I recognize the awe in all of this. I am thankful.

Choice

Today I chose to stand in the rain. Willingly. I allowed it to drip softly upon my upturned face. I stood in the stillness and listened for the song that is created when a force of nature collides with man made things. The drip and plop and splash as water hit the windows and gutters and roof. With eyes closed and face upturned, I took it in with all of me. Allowing myself to feel, to experience, to cherish this storm. Knowing that although I may end up a bit soggy, I'd be better for it, both literally and figuratively.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow I trust that the sun will shine, with all her glory, when I least expect it.

Tonight

I'm thankful for rain that renews, darkness which helps me search out the light, and for the glorious orb in the heavens, reflected tonight in the light of the moon..

Response

2011-10-18T08:55:00.004-04:00

I'm reveling in the quiet of this morning.

In the stillness of the world awakening, I'm taking the time to breathe in the beauty of what today may become.

May become

A big part of how my today unfolds will rest largely on my response to her events. Am I greeting her willingly, with open arms and a ready heart?

I am

Because He IS

The way the sky appears when lying beneath trees;

I heartily recommend taking the time to notice details from a new perspective...

Modification

2011-10-17T13:47:00.002-04:00

Modification (n.)

1. The action of modifying something.

2. A change made.

3. A small alteration, adjustment, or limitation.

I've been making a myriad of modifications around the nest lately, such as changing out shorts for cozy cable knits, switching lemony linen throw pillows for cream sherpa fleece, and altering my ever-too-long pant collection.

Changing

Switching

Altering

Three words that are synonymous with the concept of change and are found in the definition of modification.

I've spent most of my life coping with Senor Change, and my letter to him would read something like this:

Dear Sir Change,

I see you've decided to visit me again. I guess you've failed to recall that we are not bosom buddies. I don't care for you. I wish you'd leave. You make me feel all sorts of upset inside. Remember when I was young and you caused such enormous upheaval in my life? I do. I also recall you wreaking havoc on my teens. And my twenties. Not cool. Oh, and this decade? You've visited far too often. Please go away. I don't desire to be stretched, changed, altered, modified, or further limited.

Most Sincerely,

Shannon

p.s. If you see your friend, Status Quo, I'd be happy to meet her, seeing as she's never been a part of my life and I'm quite sure no one has introduced us yet. Just sayin'...

I know that modification is a necessary part of life. I realize it helps me grow. I know that most of it comes from Him and I'm thankful for it. I just sometimes wish that the flow of change wasn't so constant. I want to hit pause.

I don't desire for my days to quit changing. I enjoy the newness of each morning. I usually greet it willingly. I do. Honest engine.I just hope at some point to get my feet underneath me before something else comes my way. I'm seeking out time to breathe. It would be lovely if one thing would stop fusing before another started and if I could figure out a way to get more rest so I was more capable of dealing with everything going on in my world and I could learn to be a bit more careful and gentle with myself, as I am my own harshest critic.

That said, I decided to start small...in my moments and in the choice of response. I've learned about embracing change and adjusting my attitude to do the same. Being thankful for what I'm learning as it occurs, not as an afterthought. Seeking out the beauty.

For the gratitude I need to express in order to change my heart? It's there..it's in the choosing.

"This one step--choosing and sticking to it--it changes everything."

-Reed

Needing Alteration:

I schooled, seam ripped, and

worked on adjusting...

Noticing

2011-10-14T18:09:00.000-04:00

I feel like most parts of my life are simply fluff lately...have you been there? That so much of it is just background noise trying to distract me from the big stuff.

I want to notice the big stuff

Stuff is a poor word choice, but stuff it is...what keeps us busy and what we're reaching for and what we do all day? It's mostly just stuff.

But what I'm missing? It's the true blue in the sky and the way eyes crinkle just before all of the happy pours out. Not perceiving it almost causes pain.

I've taken less time this month to discover the world around me. I miss that feeling, the one that comes with the cherishing of the moment. You know it, right? The anticipation of something and then the complete calm that comes with the joy of the experience?

This morning, I figured it out... I'm seeing everything as I normally would... It's all in my response to the world. It's in the noticing.

Taking notice

Taking the time to experience. Sharing it with those around us...doing life together.

Together

It's the way it should be done. Side by side, sharing burdens and blessings.

Won't you join me? I would love to do life together with you here.

"A friend is always loyal, and a brother is born to help in times of need."

Proverbs 17:17 NLT

Comments Anyone?

2011-10-12T13:23:00.002-04:00

Hi Friends,

I've switched up the comments to Disqus in an effort to answer you all more quickly. Blogger was good enough to save the originals. Yet, for the life of me, I've yet to figure out how to answer them from the dashboard.

Sigh.

With all of that said, is there anything special you'd like to see here on the blog that I can tweak with design? I would like to make this more user friendly for you, so comments are appreciated and will be taken under advisement.

Oh, and for someone who is tech savy, could you tell me how to post a blog to twitter so it shows up as a bit or something of the like? My skills lie in teaching intranstive verb forms and trichotomy these days (for our 7th grader) along with latin and long division (for our sweet 3rd grader). The joys of homeschooling are that you recall the learning of your youth without moving forward into tech savy-ness.

Off to finish piano theory with my little...we're studying transposition!

Keeping On...

2011-10-11T12:12:00.000-04:00

This morning it took all I had to slip from beneath the warm, cozy blanket and pull on my worn track shorts and tank.

It was dark. Cold. Rainy. The digits were closer to six than seven. Way too early.

I didn't want to go. But I did it anyway because that's what I do. I stick to the plan, follow the rules, stay on task. No matter what.

I'm disciplined. I'm not saying this in a proud or haughty manner, just as a matter-of-fact. It's a part of who I am. A friend used to tease me that I should have remained Catholic, because I am great at making something ritual.

So, I get up. I put one foot in front of the other, and I keep on keeping on.

I want to nestle back under the covers. I want to spend the day in the abyss that is my heart.

That's not life. Not mine anyway. I homeschool, exercise, study the Word, and do a massive amount of driving to the chicks' activities. I pay bills, manage the household, clean from top to bottom, and make sure all are fed. I care for everyone. There's not time for me in my day. I need to find moments.

Please don't take these words as a complaint. I am beyond thankful for our home, our girls, my life. I am grateful I am capable of maintaining my current speed and course. I know it could all change in an instant. But today? Today I am tired. I ache. I am lonely. I desire to hibernate, and my cave sharing buddy is gone.

So, I take a deep breath, open my bible, and lean on these words:

"Come to me, all who are tired and weary, and I will give you rest."

Matthew 11:28

I choose to rest on His promise today. I choose to let Him minister to my heart. I will seek Him when I feel the crazy of life creeping it. He calls me to it.

In times like these, I see the benefits of being a "no matter what" girl.

Lonely Eyes

2011-10-05T22:04:00.001-04:00

Today I took the time to gently lift her into my arms and sway around the kitchen. Laying aside all of the I have to's and instead looking her in the eyes and noticing the lonely.

Wondering if my eyes look the same

I stopped cleaning up dinner and unloading the dishwasher and pulling out the vitamin regiment for the 'morrow. I started listening to the quiet of her heart. The place that was calling out for more of me in the regular moments.

Scrolling through the music on the phone, I found her song. The one I've sang to her since her NICU days. Choosing it carefully, pushing play, watching the wonder in her eyes. She did not realize it was on our devices.

Wonder replacing lonely

My little is still small enough to fit on my hip, even at seven. I tell her it's God's gift to me, being able to tote her when she gets tired or hurt or just plain lonely. Growing up isn't easy. Neither is being grown up. Knowing this, I hold her tighter and we glide around the island, cluttered with dishes to be put away. Not in this moment, though, for this moment? It's ours, hers and mine, with little arms wrapped around my neck and calves resting on my hips.

Together

I remember that she needs me in her moments, not the shell I feel I am this week. I remember how much I need Him in mine, and as we move I ask my God to give me wonder to replace the lonely. I assure Him I know that we're doing this together. I thank Him for these moments.

Ordinary

Sacred

OURS

Today, I give thanks for the moments.

The Power of Words

2011-09-30T13:57:00.001-04:00

Before Sara died, she asked me to speak at her wake. She didn't desire that I share with others memories of her. Rather, she asked that I speak about who she was in this world. She told me that she wanted people who came to see her as I spoke. She also told me I wasn't allowed to cry. It would, she stated, "Make things less effective." Love her. A friend who was present asked that I (Shannon) put it up for all of you, who were unable to join us at the service, to read.

. . . . . . .

Gail Caldwell wrote: "It's an old, old story. I had a friend and we shared everything, and then she died and so we shared that too."

Words are powerful. Uniting. They shape our view of the world, ourselves, each other. Words, in the best cases, make us immortal. Words are how I found her. Faith is what brought us together.

A friend send me an email, asking me to pray for a mother who knew she was going to lose her baby girl and carried her to term anyway. I immediately prayed, and then got online to read something called a blog. First time I'd read one. In. My. Life. I took in the entries from first to last, with tears streaming. My heart ached. I prayed. I returned again and again to follow this mom's story. In the process?

I found Sara.

Our friendship was wildly unexpected. I linked to gitzengirl.com and as I read I heard her voice. Honest. Full of Faith. Strong. True. Her words? They were her, and like a book waiting to be opened, I dove in. Heart first. Because that's how all of the great things in life are to be done. I sent an email explaining the similarities in our stories and assuring her that I'd never written to someone like this before, I wasn't creepy, and um, if she had some time, could we possibly correspond? She immediately replied with an, "Of course! I'd love to get to know you..." And, as it's said, the rest, for us, for was history. Day in, day out, doing "life" together. Only now, knowing what I do about her, does this response make me laugh. I'm quite sure that is how Sar answered every single person who contacted her. .

Sara did everything full throttle, both feet in, filled with intention and limitless enthusiasm, shown by the sparkle in her eyes for what most interested those she loved. She told me that the most important gift you could ever give someone was your full and undivided attention. Sara got it. She knew that to live well meant to treasure moments and seem them as gifts. She chose joy. Not happiness, which is as flimsy as a shirt blowing on a line in the breeze, but true heart joy which sustains through obstacles, disease, death. She make the hard choices.

Every

Day

She chose community . Using her words to a build a life when her body failed her. She shared her faith boldly. She was real. Alive. Present in every moment. She made those around her and those who shared her world via her words desire to enjoy their days as she would have...

No going back

No regrets

...taking the time to feel the sun kiss their cheeks and cause freckles, which she so missed seeing on her own. Sara lived.

Every

Single

Day

She was a daughter, a sister, a friend. She loved to sing. She loved to dance. She made the world's best volcano cake. She adored cheese...and Oreos, frozen and dipped in peanut butter. Some have called her inspirational. She was, but not intentionally. Honestly though? To me? She's simply Sara, my best friend. The one with the snort-filled laugh who made up songs for everything. She had eyes that twinkled and hugs that filled you up way past overflowing. She was my heart.

And here she is, proclaiming that it's not about her, in full Sara-get-the-last-word fashion. But this time? I have to disagree. Because it is about her, what He's done through her.It's about her taking the time to teach us through her words and her beautiful life how to be genuine and honest. How to love the Lord and follow Him. How to make our lives more outward focused than in. Loving well. Living well. Choosing joy. That was our gitz. And because here, in this place, she deserves the final word, I'll leave you with hers...

"Make it about Him, not you. Enjoy every second. Choose joy."

Well said, good and faithful servant. Well said.

...

Loving Well

2011-09-20T14:04:00.004-04:00

It's as much a part of me as breathing, this friendship she and I have woven together. In and out, up and down, encircling us. Never ceasing. Never slowing.

None of the breaks, skips, or hiccups that usually occur in relationships. Not a one.

We came together so seamlessly I don't remember what my life, my days, my moments felt like without her beside me, even in a figurative sense. I know it sounds odd, the stuff of science fiction movies and creepy music, but our relationship has been like that from the beginning. I wake up when something happens to her or when she dreams and cannot bring herself out of it. She knows when I've hit my bottom and swoops in to scoop me up.

Even our night times overlap. That silly red sports car she drives in the non-waking hours? It shows up for both of us. I tell her geniuses choose green and she laughs. I am thankful to hear it so strong, so clear. Her laughter is the mix of all things beautiful; soft undertones of leaves hitting each other as they fall, deep echoes surprising even me, knowing where it comes from inside of her, the final crescendo of a snort, which starts the process over anew.

Then I wake up, check the phone for the familiar green blink in the upper right hand corner that signals all is right with the world. I blindly feel for our necklace, the one she and I wear together, willing it to return to it's normal twinkling sound that is airy and so much like the upper notes of her. It is eerily silent. It has been so since Thursday. God's way of showing me her stillness. Even the chicks notice, asking, "Mama, why are you so quiet? We can't hear you coming anymore...."

We were supposed to spend, as we've called it, "the highlight of our twilight" together. Not apart. Not with her there and me here...I knew this was coming when we both stopped joking about it. I knew it. I knew that Christmas would be our last one together. I wanted it to be so special for her. Jay and I discussed it, with tears streaming down my cheeks as we drove those snow covered Iowa highways. Our girl was getting tired.

She and I have often discussed her purpose here in this world. She is strong, so determined, so filled with the Lord. I love all of these things about her. Sara lives out our God's desire to for her to be a light. He is visible in and through her. She loves people well. She is everyone's best friend. She's a resting place, buddy, sounding board, laughing partner, encourager. She's so much more to so many...

She's the other half of my heart.

She calls my husband brother.

She loves my babes as her own.

I've tried to see the world through her eyes for so long that I doubt I'll again view it through mine; this is one of her many gifts to me. The way I feel the sun touch and warm the crown of my head, taking a moment to close my eyes and lean into the breeze and find the beauty in the simple. A gift from her. I could name a thousand gifts alone that come from our familyship as she has named it, but perhaps the greatest of all is one that cannot be named. One only felt. The wholeness of a love that fills your being and will not let go, even when time and space separate.

She has loved me well, and to do the same for her, I had to utter words that sliced me to the core. Syllables in a chain that have since doubled me in two with the deep grief that comes with silent, wracking sobs. Loving her well meant letting her go.

"...I'm praying for you. I asked Jason (last night) to start asking God to release you from this world. It seems like an odd prayer request for someone whom you love more than life, but I think it's time that I asked him to join me in the request to our God. I know you're never complaining, but this world is making you weary and closing in..."

And her response

."...but I know that prayer can't be an easy one for you... because I know who you are to me - you're everything - and it would be so hard for me to let you go. but I imagine me there with you all the time. my hand on your shoulder every day, and it allows me to exhale. I do wish for that."

She is ready to go. Her purpose here finished, or maybe just begun. I've watched twitter and blogs go insane with her words, her contagious enthusiasm, her joy. Her family has surrounded her. Everyone who knows Sara is stronger, better, more beautiful in spirit. We listen more closely, hug more readily, really let people in to our hearts. Loving others as our Father does, without judgement. Loving them well.

She's given all of us that.

But here, in these four walls where her face was a regular on the counter as I made dinner and we talked via Skype, we mourn, we miss, we wail, and, as she and I referred to it, become all "welly" at weird moments. Liquid coming up from a place deep inside which feels as if it may never be whole again. The flip sits unused this week in the cabinet, hidden from view so my heart doesn't have to process what we're losing.

Once again, my heart whispers so she can hear, "Run, sweet love, run to your Father. In this moment, may you be free, be whole, be healthy. May you feel my love...."

Tuesday's Child is Full of Grace

2011-02-08T13:16:00.004-05:00

Eleven years ago you entered our world.

Small.

Red.

Making your voice heard.

Three separate due dates: March 4^th (actual), January 28^th(for my health), February 6^th (for yours).

On Tuesday, February 8, 2000, you decided you’d join us. At your own pace, in your own time; forty two hours of labor, most of it without great progression. Then from 4 to 10 in a hour and six pushes later, you arrived.

I had not allowed myself to fall in love with you. The doctors told me that I carried antibodies that could cause your death if the pregnancy made it to 36 weeks. If. That was the word throughout the weeks you grew and developed. If you made it, if I made it, if my kidneys held out. They told me I wouldn’t get pregnant. I did. At week six they suggested I terminate when bloodwork came back showing more strikes against both of us. I refused. They were wrong. I decided, then and there, that they were wrong. That we’d make it. Together.

Those days were not easy. Anything worth loving never is. I went through full day “morning” sickness and the disease which fought you with antibodies waged war with my organs. We trusted. We prayed. We hoped. We prepared.

A room arranged and painted. A crib assembled and waiting. A rocking chair in place. Your name? Chosen months before you arrived. Little did we know how it would fit you perfectly. He did.

I remember walking into your nursery and standing, letting my gaze flit around, and imagining what you’d sound like there...

Your laughter

Your cry

Your voice

My kidneys gave up and they said it was time for you to come. An amino was done. You simply weren’t ready. So I waited. I waited for you.

More drugs given to mature your lungs, another week’s wait.

I remember leaving for the hospital with our bags packed, knowing it was the last time we’d get in the car as two. The silence and darkness in the garage as the door went up and we pulled into unchartered territory.

Two full days in labor; you’d show up when you were ready. Little did I know it was how you’d do most things in your life. At your time, in your space, at your pace; from the start you showed us YOU.

At 9:53 P.M. you entered the world. Daddy cut your cord, Uncle Ryan took your first pictures, and the nurses placed you wrapped in the standard issue blue and pink hospital blanket on my chest. I remember staring in wonder into your bright, inquisitive eyes. Little did I realize that the determination they showed from the start would continue in the years to come. Your gaze, steady, challenged every part of me to do better, be better, love more.

You came into my heart in that moment...The look that passed between us acted as a key and you let yourself in.

I know it isn’t easy being the oldest. I was the oldest. I know you don’t always feel that things are fair. They sometimes are not. I know, in moments, you feel displaced by the sweetness that is your little sister. You are not. You are my firstborn. I will forever love you longest. I know that we battle because we are similar and you strive for justice in everything. It isn’t easy being your age in this world with parents who care more about the state of your heart than your happiness. Someday you’ll be a Mama and you’ll understand. For now, just know how much we love you and that you and your sister are our top priority. Being your Mother is my toughest job. It’s also my greatest privilege. Being your mother is one of life’s greatest gifts, and I don’t take it for granted. Not for a single moment.

...Tuesday’s child is full of grace...

Little did we know when we sat on the bench by the sea and chose your name that no other would so perfectly suit you. Swinging there, feet barely touching the planked boards, we dreamed of you and put your first and middle together. Double favored, how we named you...and then, born on a chilly Tuesday in early February. Perfection.

So, sweet Tuesday's child, with a first and middle name both meaning grace:

May you enjoy your eleventh birthday, my dear firstborn. Life would not be as vibrant, beautiful, or exciting without you in my days. I am thankful for all the parts of you that make you unique and amazing; the fire in your eyes, the determination of you, your love for those around you, your sensitive heart, your out-of-this world abilities, your smile, your laughter, and your serious nature. YOU are fantastic.

I love you,

Mmm-Ma (what you’ve taken to calling me since Mama sounds too young to you these days)

Thoughts on Thursday

2011-02-03T14:45:00.004-05:00

It was my intention to do a wordless Wednesday, but the computer got wacky and wouldn't process. ARGH.

After a night off, it seems as if things are moving in the processor department again.

Here's Little Bit's memory verse for the week...I'm taking it to heart as well.

So thankful we don't walk this road alone.

2011-01-28T14:01:00.003-05:00

Taking five...

1. The Big's solo costume came in via UPS. We were all extremely thankful it arrived, seeing as she needs it to compete next weekend in GA.

2. My brother. sil, and niece left North America to live overseas for at least the next four years. Most likely for their lifetime...it's for work and I know they'll love it, but saying goodbye via phone and Skype was bittersweet.

3. Little Bit finished second grade math and is almost done with second grade english. She's only six...Looks like I need to order new curriculum and write into ABC asking them to do a show called "Dougina Howser". Wink.

4. We played rousing games of both Quirkle and Bananagrams all weekend. I highly recommend these to anyone who wants to have fun but not spend hours at a time on a game.

5. I spent a lot of time in prayer. God really kept me on my knees this week...I usually pray a ton, but my heart was extra burdened. Between my best buddy just not getting any better, Joanne in a coma, baby Scarlette taking a few dives in the NICU this week, and all of the Williams clan battling the stomach junk, I've just been petitioning up a storm for many that I don't know but my heart hurts for... I'm constantly in awe of how our God unites us.

She Needs

2011-01-27T14:19:00.003-05:00

She needs a friend.

She searches it out in me, her Mama.

The one who sets the rules, makes her brush her still falling out baby teeth, tailors her curriculum, disciplines, and tucks her into bed at night.

I look forward to the day where I am less parent and more friend, but that is a good decade or more in our future. She desires it now...and it makes me wistful that I cannot yet gift it to her. For the time being, I am charged with shaping her heart.

She needs a comrade to pal around with, giggle, and share secrets...with which she can be a goof.

Her soul, sweet and tender, often bruised by the unkindness of those around her.

She’s always been

Sensitive

Intuitive

Reactive

In one-too-many ways, grown-up before her time

Being incredibly intelligent doesn’t help things; other ten in less than two weeks eleven year olds don’t enjoy better yet prefer conversations with adults or consider those three to four years older “peers”. Most of the tweens she knows are into Tiger Beat magazine. She’s never flipped though the glossy pages. She prefers discussing our Compassion Child to chatting up Justin Bieber. Her heart is heavy, even troubled, with the weight of the unknown for missionaries she holds dear to her little heart. She’s able to pretend that I can do anything because I once did...effortlessly in her eyes. She doesn’t want to see my limitations. I’m often asked to push them aside so that she can continue to perceive me as completely whole because the reality terrifies her.

She has “friends”. I’d consider her popular, both with parents and peers. More individuals than she could count on both hands and toes consider her a buddy. Her laughter is shared and multiplied and her shoulder is often used. Like a magnet, she draws people to her with sweetness and an open, beautiful heart. But where does she place her burdens? Like a kettle, she holds them till steam comes out and the whistle blows. Everything falls apart and she feels alone.

My rational heart knows that this is a trying, difficult age. I’ve navigated not always successfully this maze she’s in and I wouldn’t voluntarily experience it again. Okay, in honesty, I’d rather have all of my toes amputated than be her age. At eleven I was heavy with the weight of steroids and medication, rode a short bus, and used a wheelchair, all while attending a public school. It was a time I’ll forever refer to as “the dark years”. I’d rather be almost any age than eleven. I, of all people, get it. But she’s not me...she’s beautiful and petite and well received. Her eyes sparkle and her smile warms. She thinks she’s okay going it mostly alone, but she’s not.

I know.
I’ve been there.

So, I pray. I ask God to give this girl of ours, the one with the sweet, feisty, tender heart, a friend. A buddy. One who will accept her where she’s at, cheer for each and every accomplishment, and support her through thick and thin. I’m asking Him for a girl who shares her interests and her faith.

A big request? You betcha.

But I’m counting on it being filled, for it’s His desire that we’re in community with others...whether we’re eleven or four times that number.

“As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another...” Proverbs 27:17

A Ditch (Part 2)

2011-01-25T16:50:00.006-05:00

I said last Thursday I'd back on Monday...

Or, on Tuesday....smile

Because Monday? It got away from me.

___________________________

...He was there with me.

I was not alone. I mean, I've sung the perennial favorite What a Friend We Have in Jesus and read the poem Footprints more times than should be allowed by law, but coming to the realization that He never leaves me was to say the least daunting.

In fact, if examined from a logical viewpoint, even a bit creepy, as pointed out to me by my then three year old. “Mama, does God watch over you when you’re sleeping?” asked Little Bit as I snuggled her into bed a few years ago. Never skipping a beat my reply was, “You betcha!” “Even when you get out of bed to go to the bathroom,” she paused “Is He there, too?” She sounded slightly nervous at this point, and I was beginning to get her drift. My response, blithely, was to the effect that she’d never need to be weary of the dark again. Unfortunately, I should have been a bit clearer, because to this day the kid can’t sleep with the door to the bathroom ajar.

From a spiritual standpoint, although still slightly unnerved by the notion, I find the concept that we’re never alone comforting. People will disappoint me. I’ll do ridiculous things and punish myself indefinitely for them. I’ll end up in the ditch and will show too much pride to ask someone to come beside me and maybe even beneath me and lift and push and pull me up, but even then?

He’s with me.

The Creator of the heavens.

The One who spoke the stars into being.

This God who became man, lived on this earth without sin, and died for all of mine.

He’s with me.

I need to start getting out of my own way. I need to realize that hoping for control and actually having it are two completely different concepts. I need to willingly give it over to Him instead of clutching it in my hands until it’s worn and twisted and wrung so hard that the writing is no longer legible. It whatever it is was never mine to begin with. It has always been His...much like I have. I’m loved, and I’m certainly not alone in these trenches.

In fact, if I was to open my eyes and glance, I’d see hands outstretched all over the place. Sleeves rolled up ready to lend a hand. Because our God? He never leaves us anywhere alone...and He always makes sure we have a way back out.

For this? Thankful does not seem to cut it.

But...don’t be surprised if all of the bathroom doors in the house are shut tight when the last light is extinguished this evening. Wink.

Take 5

2011-01-21T12:29:00.004-05:00

Friday is all about taking five...five minutes, five instances (good, bad, or ugly), five memories, five reasons to be thankful for the week or simply grateful that it's over.

1. I'm most thankful this week that my amazing husband let me fall asleep on the couch last night. Yes, seriously. Best three hours of my week, hands down. I've not been sleeping consistently, so when I fell asleep during the second showing of White Collar at 11p.m., he sat next to me and let me snooze...until I woke at 1:40a.m. Although he had to leave for work at dark-thirty, he remained there because I looked so restful and he didn't want to wake me. What did I ever do to deserve this man?

2. I chose not to get groceries last night because all of the handicapped spaces were full at Kroger. All the close spots were gone too. Seriously, has no parking lot engineer ever heard of the Americans with Disabilities Act? Sometimes I wonder. It was one of those days where you feel every joint before a storm starts, I had Little Bit in tow (as usual) and needed a bunch of heavy items. I just didn't feel like lugging, trucking, and loading. I've never just gone through the parking lot of a store and left because there was no room at the inn, but it was slightly liberating. We had the basics (cereal, almond milk, bread, pb&j) but needed the good stuff. The items you use to make meals. I thank God my family loves me. A lot.

3. One of the caveats of homeschooling is the fact that it is difficult to reason taking a snow day when you do not leave the house to school. Sigh. The district has amassed six of them so far in our neck of the woods, but we haven't taken one yet. I tell the chicks that they'll appreciate schooling now when everyone is making up later. I'm not sure my Big is buying the logic.

4. The professor is teaching two classes this semester in addition to doing research. I miss him. His brain goes other places when he gets uber busy. I am so thankful for the fact that we are well employed, but when he suggested finding a job on a warm, tropical island the other night, I almost began packing. Then I sighed as I rejoined reality.

5. My eldest babe continued work on her solo for dance this week. I'm seriously in love with it. I could watch her and listen to the music for hours. She's done three lessons and is almost ready to compete with it starting in two weeks. I'm feeling large does of gratitude for the dance room we put in this summer... It's allowed her to go in and learn choreography in about three and a half hours total and come home and clean it on her own and given me the gift of not having to sit at the studio while she works. Phew. I prefer home to anywhere in the world.

A Ditch (Part 1)

2011-01-20T14:46:00.004-05:00

I've planned to do this post in a few segments, a little now and a bit later; I'm working on thoughtful consideration.
_________________________________________

Have you ever been in a ditch, either literally or figuratively? Were you able to climb out? Did strangers appear and lend a hand, or was it close friends and family?

Or...

Were you left, alone, just wondering if you’d ever be rescued?

I’ve never literally been in a ditch. We’ve had car issues of course, and I remember a few accidents and being “stranded” as a kid, but in a ditch? Nope. However, I’ve seen multiple cars in a such a spot. Cell phones come out and friends arrive. People stop.

I think that physical ditches are a whole lot easier to escape from. You might need a tow truck, but generally, you are visible there. Given aid. Lifted up. Freed.

It’s the figurative ditches that tend to do us in. The ones that people have no idea we’re trapped in...Maybe we’ve fallen there, or maybe we’ve dug them for ourselves. Nevertheless, we’re in there, and most likely?

We. Are. Stuck.

And it’s seemingly the most lonely and uncomfortable spot in the whole wide world.

It’s cold. Icy air sinks and is trapped by the earthen walls surrounding you.

It’s dim. Even though the sky is visible above, shadows come and tease with their movement.

It’s quiet. Sounds are muffled.

It’s isolated. Not necessarily visible from the road and to other travellers.

It’s where you are...alone.

Or at least if feels as if you're solitary. Dwelling on your own island. Having a "Guess I'll go eat Worms..." moment.

It's a horrible place to reside.

I've been there. I've actually looked my sweet husband in the eyes and with pure certainty whispered, "I'm drowning. Seriously under water. I need you to throw me a line. Poste haste."

Did I do this when I went into the ditch? Um....No. I hemmed and hawed and felt slightly sorry for myself. I'd convinced me *and everyone else for that matter* that I could do it. ALL BY MYSELF. It's one of my most extraordinary talents; ask the sweet man of mine. He'll tell you a million times over that I'm the most self-sufficent person he's ever known. My mom and best friend would say the same. I generally don't ask for help, I take care of everything on my own, making sure the house and kids and activities run ship-shape and on-schedule (note: say that in your head with a Brittish accent, it sounds so much lovlier that way). I figure, if I use humor and accents as a distraction, you'll be less likely to see me as you should in this situation. Full of pride. Without humility. Alone. Afraid. Not willing to ask for assistance the instant I went into the ditch.

Why? Because I was trying to do it all I'd put myself squarely in the ditch. I was making it about me by trying to prove to others that I was capable (totally not my intention). I was in the ditch because I was unwilling to see that I wasn't alone. The God who created the universe was there as well. I just wasn't opening my baby blues and looking around instead of just ahead, realizing that He was there with me.

Silly, eh?

The rest of my ditch experience will be detailed on Monday, after we "take five" tomorrow...

Sparkle

2011-01-18T18:18:00.004-05:00

I've been quiet for the last month, mostly due to the fact that the holiday and travel in addition to school, dance, and real life was pretty much all I could handle. I'm working on getting back into the swing of things and figured when Sara needed an off day I'd jump back into blogging. Yep, that's how all the wildly overachieving kids do it...guest posting on GitzenGirl. Wink. I plan on being much more regular. It's good for the spirit, and reminds me that I'm something other than a mother and wife and homeschooler...

Sparkle.

Such a simple word; it brings to mind images of stars in the night sky, engagement rings, and bright, wonder-filled eyes.

Sparkle.

I’m taking liberties and off the cuff calling it a scientific phenomenon that was witnessed and documented copiously with digital images.

Sparkle.

It is what five humans are capable of doing when put together in a cozy condo for four glorious days.

We did all of the “usual” stuff...trips to Sonic for Happy Hour, a stop at Hy-Vee for soup and crackers, movies on the bed, filling the dishwasher, doing laundry, loving all over the white pooch, writing with a calligraphy set, and working on our creative flair with stencils and colored pencils. We opened gifts, sang, laugh, cried, and prayed. There was even fingernail painting and the two oldest in the house I won’t mention who is really the oldest and who’s the runner up managed to put on makeup every single day in case the camera came out of nowhere. I think we both secretly hoped it would.

The ultimate goal was to capture the moment and freeze it in both perfect stillness and absolute motion so our eyes could witness later what our hearts were holding now. I wasn’t sure it would be possible, but between the two of us Canon toting shutterbugs (with Jay thrown in for good measure) I figured we’d get a few shots. Golden memories that my camera shy sidekick would allow me to print and display.

In total, hundreds of images were amassed. Some were off center, others blurry because I’m still working on shutter speedand aperture and all of those other big fancy camera words that make photos pop. Sara’s, of course, were the bee’s knees. As I was going through the pictures on the camera and transferring them to external storage, I had a nagging feeling that there was something weirdly similar in all of the shots. I was tired, it was late, and I decided I’d go back and figure it out later when the kids didn’t need my help with piano and I wasn’t making dinner and correcting math and grammar homework and preparing Jay’s lunch and setting up the teaching schedule for the next day and folding the laundry and yelling at the dog to STOP BARKING NOW.

In complete honesty, it’s a miracle I went back to these photographs so quickly. I’m the girl who meticulously documented my first girl’s days, complete with date, time and location. Even if I didn’t scrapbook them, they were organized and booked.

Then came Little Bit, and it all went out the window. It will be a miracle if it ever gets done, but that’s a post for another day
.
Hence, back to the photos, and the similarity. At first glance as I paged through snapshots, the rational part of me was looking for the parallels. I noticed clothing, lighting, and location. That wasn’t it. Then, it hit me.

We SPARKLED.

Not in a new engagement ring sort of way, but in a full of love and joy and completely and utterly surprised in every moment by God’s wondrous grace sort of way.

I’ve decided that it’s the way friends look when they’re crazy comfortable with each other. How babes appear when basking in the love of adults who simply adore them. How a married couple seems when nothing in their life is ordinary and they seek to view every single day as gift.

Sparkle.

It’s what we did for the hours we spent together, sharing moments. I didn’t realize it then, but it’s what the camera captured in every shot. It was the moment, frozen in both perfect stillness and absolute motion. Forever paused, my eyes are able to look at what my heart captured.

Guess what...just thinking about it?

I’m sparkling.

__________________________

Take 5

2010-12-03T11:53:00.005-05:00

This has been an off week here in the nest...I'm attributing it to all of our activities resuming a "fast forward" mode after Thanksgiving weekend. Or, perhaps it is just me. Either way, there's never a dull moment around here.

Taking 5 is about moments. We've enjoyed them aplenty.

A highlight of the top 5...

1. Our leggy wonder danced at an event which benefits Children's Hospital called "Fantasy of Trees". On the eve of Thanksgiving, we watched our girl do both Kickline and Bollywood. I keep marveling at how she's grown, but realized she still looks bitty next to all of the other lasses. A big treat of the evening was having one of Little Bit's dearest friends (and mine too) come and join us to watch our Big. My absolute favorite part of it all was watching maybe the sweetest six and seven year old on the planet walk around, hand in hand, looking with wonder at sparkling trees and gingerbread houses. It was magical...JUST LIKE THEM.

2. My parents came to visit. It was unexpected. I didn't have anything ready. We were supposed to travel to parts north on Thursday, but our Big had been battling a nasty sinus infection that just wouldn't go away and I didn't want to put her though ten hours each direction in a vehicle. I called them to break the news on Tuesday night and my sweet folks said they would come here. I'm quite sure they were in granddaughter withdrawal. The girls enjoyed every single minute of it.

3. I Christmased the abode. I know, adding -ed to a word doesn't necessarily make it a verb, but we're cutting edge like that over here. Wink. I also declared, with the decidedly chilly weather, that brrrrrr"ing" would become an additional part of our vocabulary(as we've experienced uncommon and downright frigid temps as of late. Just ask my friend, Robin...as a fellow southerner and lover of Christmas, I'm sure she agrees with me. Honestly, no one I've ever seen does this amazing holiday more homey and warm and, to use my sister Sara's word "glowy" than Robin. I aspire to her decorating prowess. I am quite sure I'll never make it. It's okay to dream.

4. I've done the elliptical every single day for the last three weeks. I'm just throwing that in here because I need to stay the course. I don't use it to lose weight, keep off holiday goodies, or because I like being physically fit (although the last two are nice benefits). I use it because I want to keep moving with the chicks. My husband tells me he's never met someone with so much determination as I'm climbing out of our cozy bed at 5:45 am into freezing morning air because I keep the house cold during the night to save money on heating costs. I tell him that it's my only choice if I desire range of motion. I wish I had more options, but I am thankful for movement, so I'm sticking with it.

5. We decorated cupcakes with friends yesterday in lieu of the traditional cookie baking and decorating. It was fun to watch the girls create masterpieces with frosting, sprinkles and brightly colored sugars. I labeled the event "a bellyache waiting to happen", but in all honesty it was gads of laughter and shared memories. Bonus? I can count it as both art and home ec for the week.

I'd love to hear about your week...why don't you link up so I can come visit? Just click below and follow the instructions to link to your Take 5 post. When it asks you to choose the web or a file for your thumbnail, choose web. Then it will take you to a list of the images on the page you are linking to and you’ll be able to choose a photo for your thumbnail.

Take 5--Thankful Edition 2

2010-11-18T22:44:00.006-05:00

My friend teased me about the fact that we already did thankful edition over here at the nest. I laughed and wrote back that there is never a limit on being thankful. I think we get so busy living that we sometimes forget gratitude. I do not desire to forget. So, this week, we're giving thanks again, for things big and small, for the opportunities we are given and those we let pass us by. Thanks. It's a small word with so much heart. It lies firmly in mine this week. I am so thankful.

1. I'm thankful for our groomer. Her name is Kim. The life she leads is not easy; she's supporting her adult son and granddaughter by making Fido look amazing. I am no longer able to bathe and trim our pup easily. It's too hard on my hands, back, hip and arms. I pushed forever not willing to give up this task that saves us money, but gave in about a year ago when I found Kim. She loves my pup and is as gentle with her as I am with my girls. I am thankful.

2. I'm thankful for godly women in my girls' lives. My friend, like a sister, encourages the chicks and acts as a sounding board when life is rocky; they look to her for gentle hugs, laughter, song and leading. Their dance teacher, who loves the Lord with her whole heart and serves Him in a variety of ways, both by nurturing little souls here and bigger ones abroad, spends hours a week shaping their form and hearts. My mom, who loves her granddaughters without judgement and sends cards weekly to remind her girls that they are loved and treasured. Little Bit's friends' moms...sweet women who raise their girls in the same fashion we do and have simply been a gift by allowing us into their group. For women who exemplify the presence of our God, I am thankful.

3. I'm thankful for my husband, who provides all of us with shelter, food, and the necessities plus more than I ever dreamed. He puts in grueling hours and does not get enough thanks; he's expected to just change his hat from prof/researcher to dad/husband/listener and playmate as soon as the ignition shuts off in the garage. Many days I know it is not easy to do so, and I appreciate the ways in which he loves us. I am thankful.

4. I'm thankful that three years ago I chose kids over career. I do not regret the time I put into the world outside our door, nor what it taught me about the abilities I possess and who I could be. I had a choice, sought wise counsel (my then eight and four year old gave input) and made up my mind. I am thankful.

5. I'm thankful for the opportunity I have to home school. It is rarely easy and usually takes more patience and energy than I possess, but it is proving, once and again, to be a gift. My sweet babes are excelling and growing and and learning. I have the privilge of bearing witness. These years will pass quickly and all too soon my chicks will leave the nest. I'll will never regret giving our kids the choice of learning here in our home, at their pace, with cirriculum geared specifically for them. I am thankful.

What causes you to pause and give thanks this week? I'd love to know...Just click below and follow the instructions to link to your Take 5 post. When it asks you to choose the web or a file for your thumbnail, choose web. Then it will take you to a list of the images on the page you are linking to and you’ll be able to choose a photo for your thumbnail--I can't wait to see what appears!

Take 5--Thankful Edition

2010-11-11T22:48:00.006-05:00

It's a most excellent day to kick off our Take 5--Thankful Edition because today is a day for which I'm supremely thankful. Today was the day that our amazing God chose to bring me into this world and gave me the opportunity to live. For this? I am thankful beyond words.

Here are five other thankfuls I have for today...I'm looking forward to hearing yours.

1. Grace. I know it sounds trite, but it's something for which I'm truly thankful. Grace by which I have been saved, grace by which I go, grace alone. Thankful.

2. Laughter. The way the twinkling tones of my daughters meld together and lift my heart. Every. Single. Time.

3. Family. Nuclear and other. Lifting me up and making me whole in areas I didn't even realize I was lacking. Allowing me to grow. Change. Bloom.

4. Knowledge. I am so thankful for the opportunity to learn and guide. Sometimes it's all in finding the teachable "heart moments".

5. Nature. I'm not the biggest fan of being in nature, but I'm a huge lover of nature. The feel of the breeze on my face, closing my eyes and allowing the sun to warm me, the sound of rain on the windows...I will never take any of these for granted and will forever be thankful for every moment I've been given to enjoy God's splendor.

I'd love to hear about your week! What are five things you're thankful for? Big and small. People, places, things or ideas are all appropriate.

Just click below and follow the instructions to link to your Take 5 post. When it asks you to choose the web or a file for your thumbnail, choose web. Then it will take you to a list of the images on the page you are linking to and you’ll be able to choose a photo for your thumbnail.

Take 5

2010-11-05T13:02:00.008-04:00

Hi Friends! It feels as if I'm a day late and a dollar short this week, but even taking five is allowed to be a bit tardy at some point...right? It's before noon on the west coast. That's my convoluted reasoning and I'm stickin' to it.

Here's our five in a nutshell for the week:

1. On Saturday, we put together a Mr. Potato Head Pumpkin. Seriously. It was glorious. No carving, no pumpkin guts (much to my big's dismay) and a super cute Pirate for our porch. It didn't light, but the amazing grapevine pumpkins did that I found at Target. Ah, how I love Target.

2. The girls got all gussied up on Sunday to grovel for candy. I don't particularly enjoy Halloween, but we go for fall festivities instead of spook. Little Bit had our neighbor enthralled with both her Pebbles costume (complete with dog bone hair accessory thank you Riley) and her description of how she believed there should only be Happy Halloween Houses instead of haunted ones...our sweet girl.

3. The prof has participated in a conference all week, so I've been on my own. I have loved every minute of the girls. We ate dinner out on Tuesday as a date and looked around for Christmas ideas. It is a gift to be their mama.

4. The dog has almost been released into the wild multiple times, even though she celebrated her 3rd birthday on Sunday. Lulu has taken apart the trash, ripped three toys apart, and wet the wood floor. She's showing her lack of patience with my not being able to walk her lately. The line is, "If she wasn't so great with the kids..." Sigh.

5. Families are difficult to deal with. It has been a particularly trying week on this front, and at this moment all I can say is that my prayer life is very active. Like, 24/7. I am a woman with a heart that calls out to God all the time. This week? It's been like it's echoing off of the canyon walls I'm so insistent. I know He's here. I just wish I could see Him in all of it.

I'd love to hear about your week! Oh, and a heads up for next week; we'll be doing five things were thankful for...big and small. People, places, things or ideas will all be appropriate. I'm going to cheat and do six, giving you one now: Fresh Fruit Lime Sonic Slushes....ah, how I love them during Happy Hour. I'm thankful for Happy Hour too...okay, I'd better stop and get Mr. Linky posted :) Have a fabulous week, dear ones. This week? I'm thankful for you. Okay, I just double cheated and used two. I have a whole lot to be thankful for in this world.

Just click below and follow the instructions to link to your Take 5 post. When it asks you to choose the web or a file for your thumbnail, choose web. Then it will take you to a list of the images on the page you are linking to and you’ll be able to choose a photo for your thumbnail.

Take 5

2010-10-29T00:01:00.000-04:00

Hello, friends. It's been a windy week here at the nest. Just like in Little Bit's favorite movie, Mary Poppins, storms have been brewing and things are changing. Change isn't necessarily bad; it's just different. It's the adaptation that takes adjustment.

So...let's take 5!

1. We were invited to our second neighborhood party here in the great state of TN. I washed faces, brushed hairs, and got us out the door and across the street. The chicks had a blast in the jump castle, the prof played basketball and was asked if he was a former pro you should have seen the man grin, and I managed to appear social. It was a success all the way around.

2. On Sunday morning, we attended an amazing Gospel concert instead of going to our regular church. We loved it. Little Bit was fully into it and the Big, although slightly uncomfortable, actually ended up clapping. Having roots in Deee-troit, the hubs and I enjoyed it thoroughly. It took us back to our church youth choir days where we took spirituals on tour one summer thank you so much Mr. Randy Bonser. IT ROCKED.

3. I made dinner for a friend who'd had surgery. It's a gift to be able to show the girls love in action. Then I made three containers of soup to freeze in case it ever becomes cold. Um, I haven't cooked this much in six months more like a year. Really.

4. We did "stuff" that makes the house feel like a home. After two and one quarter years, I put liquid soap in decorative containers, covered the Kleenex box on the main floor in stainless steel, purchased matching towels for our bathroom, and hung a few pictures. It's the first time I've been sure that we aren't going anywhere in the near future (we've always moved every four or so years as the man has finished a job or done schooling) and I'm thinking it might be okay to continue making this place ours.

5. I took the memory foam chair pad to dance. I sat on it. In front of people. A whole lot of people. I did it three days in a row. Folks, I park in a handicapped space and all, but good heavens, I fake it good. This week I just couldn't. It was equal parts liberating and humiliating. 100% of it? Growth.

What happened in your week? I'd love to hear! Just click below and follow the instructions to link to your Take 5 post. When it asks you to choose the web or a file for your thumbnail, choose web. Then it will take you to a list of the images on the page you are linking to and you’ll be able to choose a photo for your thumbnail.

Take 5

2010-10-21T23:39:00.012-04:00

Yippie for Friday...we've made it through the week. Seven more days removed from the lazy days of summer. Those are the moments that I'm missing this week. Ones of quiet and sleep and a lack of rigid scheduling. How about you, is there anything you're missing this week?

Missing isn't always about wanting what you do not or cannot have in the present. Sometimes it's about looking back a bit wistfully and noticing what you need to work on incorporating into your days.

Here are 5 things I'm missing this week...

1. Having family close. After two years you'd think I'd be used to going it alone. I'm not. I miss the girls being able to laugh with their grandparents, and my mom and dad having the ability to really "see" them as they grow up.

2. My best friend. Skype, twitter, texting and the telephone are all most fantastic and I definitely feel her with me all the time, but there's something to be said for just being able to "be" together.

3. A well-behaved dog. I miss having one. Ours is sweet and fluffy and oh-so-good with the chicks, but well-mannered she is not.

4. Time. I miss it. I am not sure where it goes everyday, or how it escapes from me, but I miss feeling like I have it.

5. Fall. It's still 80 degrees here in my neck of the woods. I'm thankful for the warmth and the sunshine. I'm missing the crisp air and crunchy leaf piles of late October in the north. Oh, and donuts, fresh from the cider mill...I miss those too.

What happened in your week? Is there anything or one that you're missing? I'd love to hear! Just click below and follow the instructions to link to your Take 5 post. When it asks you to choose the web or a file for your thumbnail, choose web. Then it will take you to a list of the images on the page you are linking to and you’ll be able to choose a photo for your thumbnail.

Take 5

2010-10-15T00:03:00.015-04:00

My five for the week are painfully slow in coming...I'm going to blame it on grading period brain. With that excuse in hand, here goes....

1. The Big started pointe this week. Yep, satin shoes, ribbons, lots of sewing. Talent and hard work has brought her this far. She usually keeps me on my toes. Now she's on hers...

2. We've finished ten weeks of school--an entire marking period plus. Both girls are doing swimmingly and I'm only mostly tuckered out.

3. I've not turned on the air conditioning or the heat for thirty days. Waiting for the electric and gas bills this month looks a whole lot like a child anticipating Christmas.

4. I bought the husband a new shower head. Ours came with the newly constructed house two years ago and um, well, stunk. It trickled where it should have pulsed and dripped where it should have shot. In short? Yuck. He might just love me forever and ever.

5. Little Bit and I headed to Home Goods to look for the shower head. I wasn't expecting the Yuletide to be in full bloom. I started humming carols (a no-no before mid-November in the nest) and then panicked because I realized I wasn't sure what my style-de-Noel is...homespun, traditional, glitzy, partridge-and-a-pear-tree filled? Ugh. It all looked so magical and made me wish for snow while wearing Nike running shorts.

What happened in your week? I'd love to hear! Just click below and follow the instructions to link to your Take 5 post. When it asks you to choose the web or a file for your thumbnail, choose web. Then it will take you to a list of the images on the page you are linking to and you’ll be able to choose a photo for your thumbnail.

You: Create

2010-10-14T18:23:00.008-04:00

I have to admit, I just contributed to the creativity this week.

With girls? It's all about color and sparkle.

I found and supplied the paint and glitter stickers along with a smock.

The idea arose after the prof and I discussed the joy of playing with boxes as children. Throw me a bone here...did anyone else do that? You know, when your parents or a neighbor or long lost relative purchased a new appliance and it came in that huge cardboard box that had the amazing ability to transform into a house/spaceship/retail establishment? Hours of enjoyment...I'm sighing and smiling just recalling those moments.

Well, following the aforementioned conversation, I arrived home from using the elliptical to find this in our family room:

My dynamic duo had assembled a whole bunch of Amazon boxes to form a submarine. This project had "Daddy" written all over it. There was a new captain in town, and her boat was purposefully headed to the depths. I am quite sure that Little Bit created ahem clearing throat it was all Dad one of the most accurate cardboard control panels EVER. The child was preparing to dive, had the helm, and was removing sea life via her torpedoes with deadly accuracy.
Once Little Bit removed herself from the controls, she surveyed her new vehicle with a critical eye. It was missing something...

Color.

Flair.

Sparkle.

So, out came the poster paints, brushes, and floral glitter stickers.

With Woody, Jessie, and various stuffed animals along for a voyage, she headed to the beach.

As her Mama? I was asked to accompany the crew...of course I replied in the affirmative! How could I ever resist this face? After a bumpy, loud passage, we arrived at our destination: Isle of Palms, SC.

She brought the vessel ashore, I disembarked. It was a trip I'll never forget.

Thanks, Little Bit, for being you...spunky, self-assured, laughter filled and creative. How I adore sharing your days.

Take 5

2010-10-08T00:01:00.001-04:00

Taking five is all about capturing the moments. Five, to be precise. Good, bad, or ugly...they all make up the week. Remembering them is what life is all about. Here in our nest? It's all about the remembering.

1. Our Big went away for the first time to a weekend camp. Gads of middle and high school kids from church were in attendance. Four coach buses. One new sleeping bag. A gallop-filled horseback ride on Luke (all the horses were named for biblical persons or characteristics). She learned, worshipped, laughed, grew. I think her wings may be a bit longer.

2. The prof and I experienced our first duo of days with Little Bit as a solo kiddo. Glorious is the only way to describe those sweet forty-eight hours. It was interesting to note the difference in the "feel" of our home...Our chicks are definitely their own little people, right down to the way our home hums when they are in it.

3. We went to the pumpkin patch. Twice. The first one that we pulled into was scary to say the least. The dude running it had on one very holey wife beater and the "patch" was thirty pumpkins in front of a lean-to. No joke. Thanks to the Droid, I mapped us to another farm about 15 minutes further...complete with hayride and corn maze. We got lost in the maze. I slightly freaked out after an hour. I thought about Google Earthing myself out of it. Narrowly decided against it when I realized how much fun my Boo was having leading us around.

4. I tried a fried Oreo. Correction: I tried a small bite of a fried Oreo. Verdict? Quite unhealthy in a doughy goodness way. It made me yearn for a real Cider Mill/Apple Orchard and fresh cider and donuts.

5. It became oh so cool here in the South for a few days. Amazing. We wore jeans and I thought about breaking out the fingerless gloves for the dance waiting room. It's currently back to tank tops and pants, but that is a HUGE improvement on the weather. I love wearing my jeans; they make me seriously happy.

What was stupendous or ho-hum in your days? I can’t wait to hear about your week! Just click below and follow the instructions to link to your Take 5 post. When it asks you to choose the web or a file for your thumbnail, choose web. Then it will take you to a list of the images on the page you are linking to and you’ll be able to choose a photo for your thumbnail.

Wired

2010-10-07T17:28:00.005-04:00

Wired.

I'm wired. Purposed. Planned.

I believe that what we're wired for is where we excel. I've come to believe that sometimes we're purposed for some things for a period and others for a lifetime.

As a child, I was a nerd. Honest to goodness, teacher had to come and touch my shoulder to get my attention while I was reading kind of nerd. Bookish. Quiet. I excelled in school. I was a decent big sister, the kind who always looked out for her little brother, the one who brought him along to friends homes and played Barbie meets GI Joe/Transformers/Skeletor as his whim dictated; I used constructs more than my Strawberry Shortcake dolls. I also once fed him a dandelion, but that's another story. I excelled.

As a teen, I was still completely type A when it came to school. However, I found that a great group of church friends makes a girl bloom, the gift for which I will forever be thankful. I played soccer, ran track, sang in the church and school choirs, took up dance, sang in a musical, and fell in love. I was intensely competitive and social, linked to others while growing and exploring who it was I was being purposed into...

In college, I majored in english and minored in psychology. I worked with kids, special needs students, and photography (not all at the same time). I pushed and learned my limits. Still bookish, wired for perfection, set to be "on". All part of the plan.

I married my high school/college love. We moved 900 miles from our hometown for a new job and in short order we had a baby girl. Not planned or expected, but rejoiced over. Our eldest entered our world full of vigor and life and spirit and kept me on my toes from day one. Perfection went out the window. Patience learned while working with students came into play. The lens of my life had changed, and I chose to be molded along with the tide. Becoming a mother was a quick, wild ride, and I wasn't sure I would be good at it. I was used to excelling at things, and I was afraid at this I might fail miserably. Would I break her? Could I avoid making her like me? I wanted my sweet babe to be carefree...not so adult and not so difficult on herself. But, from the moment she was placed in my arms, I knew.

Wired. Purposed. Planned.

Our firstborn was not an easy baby. She had reflux and she didn't grow quickly. She screamed nine of the twelve hours we were awake together for her first nine months. When my mom asked me how I was able to stand it, I replied, "She's a baby, she can't help it." I didn't know any differently, so for me, this was how babies were. Our big grew, showed her tenacity and wit...I wasn't sure how I'd keep up with her. She was full of life and adventure and because of her I made friends in a new part of the country; I wouldn't have done it on my own. Our girl taught me that I was self-reliant and that she wouldn't break and I couldn't break her...that she was her own person and I couldn't make her anything. I was given an oportunity to lead, guide, nurture, set boundries, and love. But make? That wasn't up to me.

Four years later we moved again, back to our roots. The husband started graduate school and I set to figuring out how to be an adult with a child surrounded by a bunch of college students. We lived in an international community, had exchanged a home and yard and dog for tight grad quarters, and our now kid was praying for a sibling. I, too, was missing the feeling of a baby in my arms, the soft skin, coos and sweet smell all mixing together into that luscious heaven that is infanthood. We proceeded cautiously, and Little Bit arrived just over a year later. Bliss. She was sweet and small and oh so pink. I was in heaven. With the Big, I'd learned that babies can't be broken and it's impossible to love or hold them too much. Purposed.

With two girls and a tight budget, I took on a job. I helped begin and then ran a small company that grew and flourished. I learned that I was skilled at things other than being a wife and mother. However, working eighty plus hours a week with a five and one year old wasn't all it was cracked up to be...I was still stay-at-home, but how still was I? How much did I have left to give to the little people that played quietly, stacked blocks and read books while I worked the phone and spent endless hours packing orders?

Sometimes, you just know. You realize it all in a glorious instant that in Hollywood would shine with thousand watt bulbs popping in your eyes. You know. IT.

IT...that thing for which your are uniquely and gloriously wired. Purposed. Planned. I knew.

My IT? Motherhood.

Take 5

2010-09-24T12:16:00.022-04:00

It's been a week of movement here in the nest. The chicks are growing and stretching their wings and, at times, my patience. Our five are mostly enjoyable, sometimes undesirable, always memorable. Five minutes, five moments that you desire to savor or discard. We're taking five...GO.

1. On Saturday, Little Bit decided she liked the dog. Santa brought us Tallulah Mae two years ago for Christmas, when the prof finished his grad program. The youngest has been yea or nay on her ever since...until Saturday, when I caught this glimpse of my girl and her new best pal. I was thrilled.

2.Due to the fact that we don't have the Big Ten Network (it's not even offered here in the South via our cable provider) we miss multiple Michigan games a year. However, while on the road to the beach I figured out that we can listen to the broadcast via my Droid. I was in heaven. I also realized we could "watch" (play by play on the field) on the computer. My man, using all of his technical prowess, contrived a new set-up Saturday just for me. My best buddy did her part as well, making sure she commented on each run. She even offered to let me watch it via her TV and Skype. But I had to leave for dance. Story of my life.

3. The eldest spent the week reminding us of the following: She's a tween, life is changing, and we might make it out alive. Might being the key word. The Lord spent it reminding us of His sweet moments of tender mercies and of how we are supposed to love with His heart.

4. A small group ensemble from the company team preformed at an event in World's Fair Park on Sunday. Legs was her sweet, sparkly self. It was fun to watch "You Better Work" one last time. Especially since I'd finally gotten RuPaul's singing out of my noggin after a long summer stretch. Oh well...we all have a cross to bear...

5. Although the calendar states that Fall has officially arrived, the thermometer hasn't taken notice. We've hit day 79 of temperatures over 90 degrees. I'm completely over it. The chicks have loved it, as they've been able to swim five out of the last seven days. It's September, people. I come from the North, where, just like white, outdoor swimming is an emphatic NO after Labor Day. I guess I still have gads to learn about becoming a belle.

From Clay to Porcelain

2010-09-21T18:04:00.006-04:00

A clay pot sitting in the sun will always be a clay pot. It has to go through the white heat of the furnace to become porcelain.

-Mildred Struven

I've decided that the examination of the spot that one places her tush would be a good blog topic; actually, it may be a series of posts. I could be way out in left field like way way out but honestly, the locations we park our posteriors tell a whole lot about day and our lives. Some rarely pop-a-squat, while others spend hours in one position. I am usually up and down, rather than in a sitting position. My spot changes by the hour and sometimes by the minute depending on what the chicks' schedule holds. Location isn't always about comfort (it's usually never about this) but generally about view.

My view...early yesterday afternoon

Our eldest is feisty, spirited, and strong willed. She's also graceful and sweet, with a soul as deep as the river is wide. She's a gift. When she's not putting me through the fire...wait, that should read especially when she's putting me through the fire.

Legs is incredible. A girl who always knows what she desires. However, her route to the destination is sometimes laborious. Especially for me and the professor. Balancing patience with the knowledge that she's growing and pushing exploring boundaries. Finding her own path. Setting her limits. Learning to express herself appropriately. That final one? Where we come to a time worn battleground, once again. The girl who is not yet a woman feels she must accept and understand things as an adult. Not realizing that some events in life are not explainable except through faith. Not fully understanding that someone can love you and love God and choose to follow a path that is yet unseen. Not accepting that love means letting go and continuing to care in spite of geographic location. All of this while knowing that she should accept and deal differently but unable to do so because of maturity, age, kidhood. Sigh.

Parenthood is all about the fire.

I'm learning that in life, as she and I walk though these fires, we will not be burned Isaiah 43:2. I, as a mother, am being refined for what is yet to come, what He has before us. While travelling this road albeit rocky with my girl of grace I'm changing...from a clay pot sitting in the sun to a new vessel. I'm not as hardy and strong. I'm a whole lot less coarse. I have some splinters from where leaks may spring. But no longer am I ordinary clay. In the process of all of this growing up via the white hot furnace heat I've become more fragile. My skin is thinner, I break more easily, I've hollowed out a bit. I'm approached differently than I was a decade ago, a mother with a dimpled toddler who looked young and fresh and full of plans. I've come to know that parenthood means being able to lead, let go, trust and hope (not necessarily in that order). I understand that heat brings transformation, maturity, beauty; it converts clay to porcelain.

Which brings us back, in a roundabout way, to parking ourselves. Who we choose to be seated near, and where the seat is located. You can't fully tell from the above shot, but my girl chose to burrow herself in my lap after a particularly long jaunt through fire. With her head on my chest, I held her, stroked her hair, and rocked. When I used the camera on my phone to capture the memory, she asked what I was taking a picture of ...

My reply? What love looks like.

Parenthood. Fire.

Clay. Porcelain.

Growth. Love.

Take 5

2010-09-17T12:23:00.005-04:00

TGIF

I'm not a TGIF'er, but as of today I may be a convert. Seriously. I don't know about anyone else, but coming back from three days at the beach is enough to make a gal long for sun and sand indefinitely. Even when that girl deals with an illness where sun isn't supposed to part of the program. Good chicks can break the rules some of the time, right???

Our take five for the week, in no particular order

1. Last Thursday (yes, I know I'm going on a day eight, but this was a highlight of the month outside of sun and sand) I was able to spend over two hours on Skype talking to my best friend. Amazing. Little Bit did a show for us and Legs was at dance, so I honestly was able to just see and talk to her for over 120 minutes. It was glorious, grand, and just what my heart required.

2. BOTH of the free photo books I made arrived in the mail. I am seriously impressed with the quality, look and feel of the Picaboo book I created with our professional family photos that sweet Abby captured almost a year ago; Shutterfly arrived this morning and we sat and flipped through the pages, lost in memories. I LOVE THEM. Being able to digitally scrapbook and catalog moments makes me feel like I've accomplished something outside of being a wife, mother, and homeschooler.

3. The chicks created and sent my Mom birthday cards that were thoughtful, creative, and just plain fun. I mailed them, along with the Hallmark version I purchased, on time. This was an accomplishment in and of itself this week. They arrived today on her birthday and were a reminder that she's loved to pieces even though we're much farther apart geographically than I enjoy. Happy Birthday, sweet Mom of mine.

4. Following church, an extra dance practice for a special event this coming weekend, grocery shopping and leaving my wallet behind only to realize it five minutes later after picking up Legs from the aforementioned dance practice and then having to go back to Super Target to retrieve it, and a Sonic stop during happy hour, we did all of the first fall trimming. The beds, plants, and yard look fit and fantastic. Phew.

5. After donning maize and blue we cheered and hollered from 3:30 to 7 on Saturday evening. Go Blue!

Take 5 Friday

2010-09-10T23:30:00.004-04:00

It has been an amazing, whirlwind week full of memories, laughter and moments to cherish. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

1. On Saturday, we surprised the chicks with an extended weekend getaway to Wild Dunes in South Carolina. They were shocked and thrilled, in that order. I planned and packed in a day--a never before and probably never again feat.

2. Little Bit experienced the ocean and beach for the first time. Ever. Legs grew up living 20 minutes from those waters, but our little boo had never felt the waves lap on her legs or the breeze swirl through her hair. It was magical.

3. We were able to relive moments and memories. So much of our bigs littledom took place in Charleston that as we drove in to the darkened city it was a road filled with remember when and over there...although long past, it brought back sweetness.

4. We took our first true "vacation" as a family of four. Seeing as the little bit is six, it was long overdue. I'm not saying that there haven't been vacations, but that they've not occurred with just the four nuclear members of our clan.

5. The girls got time with the professor. He didn't open his computer while they were awake or take calls that came in, as they inevitably do. My man made his babes feel like the most important thing in the world. He shielded them from waves, built sandcastles, and took video. It was a gift that I don't even think he realized he was giving and one that they'll recall for the rest of their lives. His job is hectic and harried and requires more of him than we'll understand; for these precious days he showed the chicks they were all that mattered.

So many other things are happening that are worth posting as part of my take five on this Friday, but for today? Well, I choose to cherish these moments and make the most of them. Each and every one.

Take 5

2010-08-27T13:13:00.016-04:00

sparkling grape juice to brighten the end of our week

Hello, dear Friday, we welcome you back with open arms and a toast (non-alcholic of course!!)here in the nest. Here's the overview of what's happened this week...

1.On Tuesday we hosted a party for the professor's grad students. He suggested we should have one late last week and I agreed (I'm a crazy woman). Thus, invitations went out post haste, food was ordered, and decorations were purchased. I reserved our neighborhood pool house. We were expecting 12 and 20 arrived...it was a fantastic get together.

2.The road comission is doing major construction on the road where our library sits. I despise getting in there to grab books that I use for our homeschooling lit, but broke down and made the trek yesterday. The chicks are quite pleased.

3.I received a package in the mail from my dear friend, Sara, yesterday afternoon. I may sleep at some point in the near future. 'Tis what dreams are made of...

4.Evening and morning temps are bringing just a hint of fall...and I'm opening the windows and loving every second of it. Do note that "fall" means seventy degrees around here. Bliss.

5.I've instituted a "thirteen hour" policy for downtime in our household that is applicable to the girls on school nights. This means that 13 hours after they awaken they need to go back to bed. We all need the rest and I need the moments without voices. I LOVE the happy sounds of my girls, but sometimes I just need silence. Or White Collar/Covert Affairs/Burn Notice. Lovin' USA and TNT during the summer :)

Pinkies up, darling...

juice and oat bran...no better start to the day

Take 5

2010-08-13T17:00:00.003-04:00

Ah, glorious Friday, how I've eagerly anticipated your arrival for the better part of the week...however, I'm currently at a loss as to why...

Here's the take 5--five minutes, five moments or thoughts, five reasons to be thankful or look ahead...

1. On Saturday we visited the Titanic. You heard it here first, folks, the Titanic has docked in East Tennessee. The girls and I were first class passengers, the prof was the 3rd Officer. Dad ended up as John Jacob Astor, and Mom as Molly Brown. We were all famous, if only for a few hours.

2. I've been exhausted all week. I currently resemble the crypt keeper. I'd rather favour Julia Roberts. Maybe the use of Lancome would improve the state of my face, or, perhaps I should think about taking a nap...

3. I'm not the biggest fan of humidity. Neither are my hair and knees and hips and fingers and elbows and hands and wrists and... I think you get the picture. It's currently hovering around 92% here at the nest, with a NWS heat index of 108 degrees. No end in sight. Big sigh.

4. We began schooling this week. Early mornings, long afternoons, and protests at bedtime that tiredness isn't felt. I want to join the under twenty camp. SIGN. ME. UP.

5. We're taking care of the Samoyed meaning we go over and feed and love him multiple times a day across the street while our sweet neighbors take their youngest to college. I'm thankful I have time with Legs and Little Bit before I have to approach this milestone, but at sixth and first grades, respectively, I know the moment will come sooner than I wish...so I am thankful for today.

You :: Create

2010-08-12T10:01:00.018-04:00

My buddy, Sara, hosts a weekly link all about expressing one's creativity. In and of herself, Sara is probably one of the most creative people I know...everything she does results in excellence and beauty and I consider it an honor to be called "friend" by this amazing woman.

When we went to visit her a few weeks ago, I had planned to do something that would bring color and beauty and life to her world. I desired to gift her with something that would last far beyond the days of our trip, and which would remind her that she's thought of and treasured every single day. I also needed something completely maintenance free, as I didn't want my sweet friend to have to call anyone in to assist her in caring for what we would do...

My project began at Home Depot, where the chicks, the Professor and I carefully perused the rows of perennials. As a side note, flower selection is far greater in East Tennessee due to to yearly temperature ranges, but I was quite pleased with what was left in Waterloo, IA.

The girls each helped choose a plant and I picked the remainders. The man of our house stood and bent and lifted and pushed the cart. Even here at the nest, he's a fantastic help with the projects that I usually scheme um, dream up for us. He even has an uncanny scary sixth sense of when I am about to attempt something far beyond my energy and strength level and arrives home to rescue give me assistance when I most need it. He's a man among men, and I'm forever thankful that he chose me.

In my planning, I'd sworn (as in "I do solemnly swear") that I was only using perennials for the grand scheme. However, as I was standing looking at the flatbed we were pulling toward the checkout, I made a snap decision; the sunflower was a necessity. I'd gone with blooms that would require only rainwater and a mix of sun and shade, but the brilliant plant with petals of yellow was too much for me to leave behind. I grabbed it, a bag of mulch to match my own beds, a long handled shovel, and a container of miracle grow to round out the supplies.

We returned to Sar's and set to work...J removed pavers and dug holes, I pointed and placed and covered with dirt and mulch. The lasses ate and played frisbee and gave pointers, and my friend and her mostly companion watched from the door wall, snapping moments and laughing and generally looking pleased with the project, which was the intent of the whole endeavour...to give her life and color and joy all in one...something to look at and remember every single day how loved and treasured she is...love in the form of plants that will ebb and return with the seasons, a "garden" that I can come and tend...the promise that I'll keep returning to her door.

Our You::Create for the girl who began the concept:

And the buds with the meaning which best express our hearts...

Leftovers

2010-08-11T12:13:00.007-04:00

As a child, I looked forward to leftovers.

Okay, at this point we'll all take a moment to acknowledge, well, my, um, weird unique traits.

I liked knowing what was coming the next day. The routine, the plan, the constancy of smell and taste. I took comfort in the fact that Mom had prepared enough ahead of time to tide us over in case she didn't feel like cooking the next evening. In all honesty, we had leftovers because Mom overprepared. She made too much, anticipating my brother and me consuming more than humanly possible. Suffice it to say, we were well loved children, but that's another tale entirely.

Bringing me back to...leftovers.

Have you ever noticed that some things taste delicious the second time around? Chocolate cake for breakfast, meat pie, and mashed potatoes turned into pancakes all being prime examples. Other items though, change consistency and color and begin to look pale and mushy and, well, gross. It's the latter that I've been thinking about recently.

Why? Because lately I feel like leftovers. Old. Undesireable. Slightly off. Globby. Pasty. Alone on the plate. Not able to give or present my best to anyone. I even have checked to see if I'm going green and mouldy...written in jest with a grain of truth ringing through.

I don't feel yummy or desirable or even pleasant to be around. I'm not currently feeling vibrant or peppy or like I'm drawing others toward me. Which is a huge problem, because I constantly desire to be a light and reflect Him.

Feel. Therein lies the problem, as it's not about how I feel. My God doesn't intended that I present myself according to how I feel at a particular moment in time. He requires that I give all of me all the time. Sigh. Seriously, though, how is this done when all I feel like is day-old refrigerated grilled zucchini now there's the visual picture I'm sure you wanted in your noggin that has gone mushy?

I guess I'm supposed to move forward in steps, like the song from an animated Christmas movie which proclaims, "Put one foot in front of the other, and soon you'll be walkin' across the floor...put one foot in front of the other, and soon you'll be walkin' out the door." I'm not feeling like walking out the door currently, but once again, it's not about what I feel. It's about what I do.

One foot in front of the other. Less feeling and more DOing. There are chickadees to chase, sprites that are not content to ride a current. My chicks? They soar.

Three cheers for flight.

Take 5 Friday

2010-08-06T08:39:00.004-04:00

Five moments. Five minutes. What amazing or really not so much occurred in your week?

I'll admit, it has been one of ups and downs here in the nest...we've had fantastic and flat out flip-flops, but each second has been memorable and completely full of life.

1. We were able to spend both Friday and Saturday with our Sara, who spreads more love into our lives than one could imagine...we painted, make a volcano cake, watched movies, laughed, cried, and sang from Annie. Don't let the girl ever tell ya she can't sing, because I'm just sayin' even with restricted air and an infection and pure grief she has about the loveliest voice this side of the Mississippi. No bones about it. I know this one probably violates the whole concept of a "moment" but honestly I'm claiming it as a million moments wrapped into one so cherished my heart may almost burst trying to hold it all...

2. We made it home mostly unscathed after way too many hours in a car. The girls loved on each other. I only drank one coffee from Daddy Starbucks what Little Bit called the establishment as a babe even though the duration called for multiple. The trip? Completely and totally worth it.

3. I was able to determine what has been causing the Eldest Chick's fits that have hit the nest like a furious tornado/hurricane/force of nature for the last month or so...big and grown-up feelings in such a smallish body, which is a post in and of itself.

4. I decided that I slightly despise temperatures over 90 degrees, and when they go over 100??? Well, forgetta 'bout it...

5. My Baby turns six today. Wow, that was difficult to type. She's lovely and sweet and full of life and joy and everything that makes women want to be mothers...

Loving this week...

Take 5

2010-07-30T13:52:00.005-04:00

This last week has been a complete gift. Unexpected joys. Laughter. Hugs that fill you inside and take up any space that feels even the slightest bit empty.

So.Thankful.

1. Someone whom I love, currently serving overseas on a short term mission, is headed home soonly. She's been able to effectively communicate the word and show love HIS LOVE to those who desperately need it. She's been spreading hope and joy into other's lives. She's invested. I've been honored to partner with her in prayer, and she's returning stronger than when she left. I can't wait to have her rejoin our lives and see the changes in hers.

2. The professor is an amazing guy. He chooses every day to love us, to stay committed to me, and to take time off from his research and crazy busy schedule to drive halfway across the country with the girls and me. He pretty much just rocks.

3. My sweet chickadees spent fifteen hours in the car at the beginning of the week and in about 24 hours will do it all again. No whining, no complaining. Best travellers HANDS DOWN. They are amazing.

4. I made it all the way to IA and can still move. A miracle in and of itself.

5. I chose to save my favorite for last...I was given the gift of friendship from possibly the most incredible woman in the universe. She's beautiful, strong, hilarious, joy-filled, gracious, compassionate, giving, loving...the list goes on infinitely. I've been able to spend the last 48 hours with her and my heart is full. Sara doesn't just write about joy, she lives it. Chooses it. Spreads it.

SO. THANKFUL.

Take 5 Friday

2010-07-16T01:35:00.004-04:00

This has been a very difficult week. Thus, my five will probably reflect the fact that I'm thankful we're heading up to a weekend and a new seven days ahead. I'm going to honestly work to find things I am thankful for though, so maybe this will turn out better than I think...

1. Last Friday I received the phone call that broke my heart. I learned to function through the pain.

2. The professor left Sunday for a week in Cape Cod, MA. I wasn't able to travel with him because my body will no longer let me go 19 hours each way in a vehicle. This makes me hopping mad.

3. I was reminded of the good in others specifically by two amazing women who are loving on my friend, and by the countless others loving her from afar.

4. It finally rained. Yes, I know this one is weak, but I am grasping, and am most thankful that I was able to not use the irrigation system this week. I'm also a lover of storms how they sound and not how they make me feel and the drops colliding with the window panes were healing to my soul.

5. I did very little sleeping this week. Sigh. Nothing like your neighbor's car being broken into, backing up to a farm, knowing the strong man in your life is out of town, having your heart so full it could burst, and vandalism all colliding...but the flip of this was that I was able to make use of The Mom Creative photo deals, design a free canvas from The Canvas People, made a digital album with 40% off at Shutterfly, and order Little Bit's prints we went last October to add to her Disney Autograph Book.

Here's to a new week, the return of the husband, and the hope that is present in my heart...

A Piece of Me

2010-07-13T23:43:00.005-04:00

As the mama bird in this nest, I often feel that pieces of me are going in a million different directions; paying the bills, balancing budgets, schooling the chicks and accompanying them to dance and piano...in essence, keeping the nest. I flit and fly trying to get everything done. I was unusually unsettled Thursday evening, more preoccupied than normal because a piece of me was hurting. I spent the early hours of Friday in prayer and woke to preoccupation, checking texts and twitter, keeping the phone close.

In the late afternoon my phone rang as I was working on piano theory with Little Bit. It wasn't a number I recognized so I let it go to voice mail, thinking it was simply a mistake. Five minutes later, same number. This time I picked up, the question mark in my voice. My stomach dropped as my heart broke; all I wanted to do was take flight. A piece of me was hurting.

The call left me shaken and ready for action, but what was I to do? I prepared dinner with barely a murmur. My chicks watching me and trying to figure out what was ahead. The meal on the table, an "amen" said, I headed up to the sanctuary of the bedroom to breathe for the piece of me that was in agony.

A piece of me...

The piece that resides in Iowa.

The piece that has made her home a haven and has graciously accepted the changes and challenges that come with a chronic illness that just plain stinks.

The piece that loves a furry guy named Riley, adores Padma, and hitches a lift with George.

The piece that has been so ill for the last month that she's barely audible on the phone, but when she laughs I can feel it over the 800 mile spanse that separates us physically.

The piece that shows Jesus in every single word she utters and types and with each action she takes.

The piece of me that outside of my God, the professor, and my sweet little chicks makes me feel whole.

The piece I didn't know I'd been missing until she showed up, full of joy, in my life.

On Friday, this piecethe woman I am honored to call my heart sister named Sara (aka Gitz, GitzenGirl and Fritz) got a call that her Dad had died suddenly of a heart attack. Sara's dad, Mike, was a light; he shined so brightly one almost needed to wear shades in his presence. He was joyful, giving, kind, gentle, incredibly hard working, and full of life. Sara tells me he didn't know a stranger and everyone felt better just being with him. For those of you who know Sara, I think you'd agree that his qualities are mirrored in his girl. He was her first boyfriend, her favorite dance partner, and the man she cuddled with during movies on slow Sunday afternoons. Her Dad. This piece of me was in agony and there was nothing I could do but pray and lift her up to our heavenly Father, the One who sustains her through every peak and valley, the One who gave her to all of us to love. Sara inspires love. She unites people. Glorifies God. I would bet and I'm not a gambling woman that if you know her you'd claim her as a piece of you, too. Gitzen Girl doesn't just choose joy, she exudes it.

Which is why it is physically painful for me to watch her go through the valley she has to now travel through. She's not alone...she's surrounded by an amazing group that is loving on her when the rest of us cannot. Alece immediately hoped a plane and took flight to be at Sara's side just 48 hours after returning from a 12 week fundraising trip for ThriveAfrica. She's being His hands and feet. Susie, who let the world know with both grace and beauty of the events that were transpiring via the blog was waiting at her doorstep as she got the news, and has made sure that Sara isn't alone, even for a minute. Susie is His hands and feet. I know she's not alone, but I so want to be near her. I'm sure that everyone who loves her does...But right now she's ill physically with an infection she's been fighting for weeks and she's heart broken. A piece of me is hurting...and I can't make it stop.

I usually don't plead with my Savior. I am a go with His flow kind of gal. I trust His plan and His amazing design for my life and the lives of others. This weekend? Well, that whole train of thought went flying out the window. I begged. I pleaded. I grovelled. May have done a belly and face plant; a piece of me was hurting. I wanted her healed. Pronto. I wanted her physical pain and circumstances to not interfere with her ability to grieve. I wanted her body to be whole so she could have the opportunity to mourn alongside her family. I wanted to just take it all from her, every fuse, ache, infection, labored breath. I'd take it all because she is a piece of me.

There has not yet been any miraculous healing hey, a chick will continue to hope but perhaps a more fitting and Gitz-like story has been unfolding daily. The infection that has been plaguing her for weeks isn't progressing further than it had on Friday even though she's talking and crying and more active than normal, she's not shown signs of other infections even through she's been around a multitude more than she usually sees, she's been able to participate in the family viewing, in the wake, and will attend her dad's funeral virtually because others like Katie who was able to help set it up and Alece who will sit beside her and Susie who has done more than any of us realize have been His hands and feet. All of this for a piece of me.

Alece posted on loving our Sara here , so please go check it out and participate if you feel so led; she's come up with some amazing, tangible ways we can all show our support and affection. (In) Courage , where Sara is a regular contributor, gives an amazing way to show our love here . Jessica's site encourages prayer and describes how to send her an honest to goodness ink and paper card.

Which lead me to the following conclusion...she's not just a piece of me, she's "ours". We love, come together for, and support her. She inspires this in each of us. By her reflection of Jesus, she claims pieces of us. Her joy, her passion, her determination, spunk and humor all reflect Him. Even while grieving, Sara's life reflects her relationship with God and draws people to Him. At her lowest, He is still glorified. Sara reflects Him in each situation and circumstance.

I hope someday people desire to claim a piece of me...because like amazing, strong, beautiful, loved beyond measure Sara I want to reflect all of Him.

Take 5 Friday

2010-07-08T22:21:00.007-04:00

We all made it through Leg's Independence Day Marathon...with our heads attached. While experiencing it, we weren't sure anyone would make it out alive.

On Tuesday evening, Little Bit fell asleep on my chest as I sang her a lullaby. I can't remember the last time it happened, but it was sweetness to my soul.

Legs attended a middle school event at church every morning this week. She was fed spiritually and I had time with the little to paint nails, curl hair, cuddle and watch musicals.

Sonic was 3 for 3 this week on the quality(think of the three t's--taste, texture, tang) of my fresh fruit lime slushes purchased during happy hour. Unheard of but greatly appreciated.

I set aside time twice this week to talk to my friend on the phone. Just for me. Without interruptions well, not too many. Pure bliss.

Tell me about your week the great and not-so in the comments. Looking forward to your Take 5

Sing A Song

2010-07-08T11:28:00.004-04:00

I have the great honor of studying God's Word with my chickadees

I learn about His heart and theirs at the same time

I am constantly amazed at the depth of question and understanding that come from little hearts

There is pure, childlike faith

Trust is evident

Joy is obvious

Sometimes, there is laughter

Yesterday Little Bit and I sat down to dive in together. Her big sis was at church better learning how to both speak and listen to her God. Boo and I were sitting at the kitchen table, finishing breakfast and studying together. We read chapter 2 of the beginning (aka Genesis 2) and continued on to the Psalms. After we both recited a Psalm aloud, she stopped me by placing her little hand atop mine. "Mama, why are we not singing these?" she questioned. I paused and replied, "Well, they don't have any music with them...and I don't know exactly how David intended they be sung, so...." I trailed off as she looked at me expectantly. Quickly Little Bit came up with a brilliant in her mind solution, "Well, how about I give you a sound and you go ahead and just sing it." I sat, puzzled, working through her suggestion and trying to find a creative way to deny her request. Then, she gave me her "sound" and declared with a smile I find irresistible "Go for it!" What was I to do? Tentatively I began; as I finished a line she'd provide me with a new tone. We continued on for three Psalms in this manner and as I finished up we were both beaming and laughing. I've sung Psalms,but they've been put to notes and measures and timed out. Our time together was completely spontaneous and not always very harmonious but I'll treasure it in my heart as a precious memory with my babe. I love the way she was able to go outside the lines and follow her desire to worship as she saw fit. To Little Bit, the Psalms were just words unless we sang them. When given music her heart music they came to life and became worship. Today I was prepared. I went right for Psalm 36, first reading, then placing it to music. Music that had already scripted to suit it. It was beautiful and she beamed with pleasure. But tomorrow? Maybe we'll do it her way again...

Psalm 36 v. 5-7

"Your love, O Lord, reaches to the
heavens,
your faithfulness to the skies.
Your righteousness is like the
mighty mountains,
your justice like the great deep.
O Lord, you preserve both man and
beast.
How priceless is your unfailing love!"

To sing along with us today, click here and enjoy Psalm 36 at it's best with Third Day leading http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QEF7IoQ3eUk . We look forward to worshiping with you!