Friday, June 30, 2017





Oh my.

I don't know why or where the idea came from, but I got it in my head this week to find a way to get on to my blog again.

It has been so long that I didn't know my password. And my email address is outdated and since been closed down.

But I did it.

And here I am.

I don't have any great stories to tell or musings of my heart to share.

Yet.

But I will. And I can't wait. The past 4 years have been some of the busiest, most fulfilling, most challenging, and incredible years of our lives. I don't know if I could recount all the stories and memories and details. For a long time, that's what kept me from blogging...there was just no way I could summarize or catch up. There were just so many stories to tell, it overwhelmed me to think of filling in this 4 year gap.

So I gave myself a "get out of jail free" card. Not that blogging is like jail. But more that I needed to let it go, to let myself let it go, and not to worry or feel guilty or feel like a failure because I missed documenting four years of our lives.

At least I posted things on Facebook. Sometimes.

So I'm starting over. Starting fresh. I may tell a few tales and record a few adventures from years past, but mostly, I'll just pick right up. Right here.

Its June 30, 2017.

Hello!

Friday, April 5, 2013

Packed Up

This past week we closed on our new house and began life as home owners again.




We've been renting for the past 3 1/2 years, and between living in Missouri, North Carolina and now way out West, there was no reason to buy until we knew we'd be settled.



And so... here we are.

Settled. Well, aside from the mountains of boxes in every room. Haha.

But truly, we are well on our way to being settled. We're putting down roots. We're calling a house our own.



And can I just say that getting all packed up and now unpacking for perhaps the last. time. ever. is just kind of wonderful?




It's scary. But it's wonderful.

This is home. This is HOME.


Thursday, March 21, 2013

Spitting Image

I better date their baby picture before I get confused… cause boy, oh boy, don’t these boys look a like?

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Oldest and youngest.

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Biggest and smallest

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And boy, oh boy, do I love them.

Monday, January 28, 2013

Peter’s Reply

I’m reading through the Bible in a year this year.

I try to do this every few years so that in my regular devotions I don’t lose sight of the whole story, the big picture, if you will. I’m using Robert D M’Cheyne’s bible reading plan, which is great because not only will I read through the entire bible in a year, but will get to read the New Testament and the Psalms twice.

In my daily reading, I came across this portion of Scripture that stayed in my heart and was the cause for meditation for several days, even the whole week.

 

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Matthew 16:16, “Simon Peter replied, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

I echo Peter’s word in my own heart as I bow before my Lord and submit my will to his. You are the Christ. You are the Redeemer. You are the Savior. You are the Son of the living God. And you have saved me.

Little old me.

Imperfect. Sinful. Willful. Disobedient me.

The Christ came to earth, my Christ came to earth… Yes, the very Son of God humbled himself, took on flesh, and bore the sins of the world through his suffering and death on the cross.

No wonder these words have stayed with me. What a wonderful and incredible miracle, that the Savior came to this world to save sinners.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Sweet sweet sweetness

I know you’ve been waiting for these sweet sweet pictures of this sweet sweet guy. Especially you, Mom.

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While I can’t say that life’s been terribly busy, it has been busy. Perhaps more of a getting-into-a-routine type busy, than a my-schedule-is-so-packed type busy.

Which is nice.

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I’m such a planner, organizer, all my ducks in a row kind of gal, that its been really really nice to have had these first months in a new place to settle in and figure out the new normal before the schedule started packing up.

So…instead of running too and fro with things outside the home, we’ve been able to adjust to our new home and to have an inward focus.

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Which, again, is really nice. God is good to allow this time to sort out the kinks and get rid of the dust bunnies.

And I think we’re just about there (if you ever really get there with four little kids! whew!). We’ve figured out what a clean house looks like. Finally. When unpacking, and repacking, and sorting and sifting, often the piles of stuff (okay, the piles of junk that I just insisted we needed to bring with us, only we don’t really use, and don’t really need, but I just couldn’t part with because sometime, someday, we might need to use them) hang out in corners and surfaces and become “normal,” but even those piles of stuff are finally organized or better yet… carried to Nick’s Jeep which was then driven to the Salvation Army and donated for some other person to enjoy (or pile into junk piles and carry with them over the hundreds of miles they move just like we did, haha).

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We’re also getting settled in how we order our days. Its great to get into a home routine, to know what we do each day, and what to expect for the regular type stuff.

The homeschooling routine was the hardest, since we were off school the week of Thanksgiving (yes, I’m actually going to go back that far in my discussion!), and then we moved the following week, then took a week to drive out to our new home, and 2 weeks before all our stuff had been delivered, then Christmas and New Years and… it really took a while before we were ready to hit the books full force and even able to get into a school routine.

But with that too, we are just about there. The kids now expect to do school every morning, instead of me trying to convince them over and over again, that yes, regular people do school every day, and that’s what we’d been doing all year until we moved, and yes, I know its hard, and I know you’d rather… etc etc etc. Ya know how it goes.

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Perhaps the best part of our school week is that we joined a local Classical Conversations homeschool group. This group has been an amazing encouragement and support for staying with a regular routine. I love it. And the boys do too. CC is a little more expensive (okay, so really it’s the first homeschool group we ever had to pay more than just a supplies fee—there is a tuition), but it is clearly the best group we’ve been a part of. More for its academics and teaching style than anything, but so worth it and we so love it. We’ve only been going for 2 weeks, so I can’t say we love it because of the friendships and the fellowship yet, but Lord willing, that will come too.

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Nick is getting into a routine at work (well, mostly) and we’re getting used to, (!!!!! and absolutely loving !!!) having him home more. He is through the door at a regular time each day, and is not only enjoying his work, but he is invigorated and rejuvenated and is happier and more laid back than I’ve seen him in years. Not that Nick was ever “unhappy” or ever really “stressed out,” but just not really enjoying his job and all the extreme demands and the high stress work environment that the Army brought… it had really burnt him out. More than I realized too. But anyway, it is wonderful to have my man around so much more, and we are literally soaking in God’s goodness in bringing us here.

And now that I’ve got a husband who is regularly home for dinner again, I decided it was high time to whip up masterpieces in the kitchen again. Haha.

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You all know I love to cook, but having a 4th baby and moving and settling and all that jazz had put my culinary genius on hold. Haha. (I always laugh a little when I call myself an extraordinaire in the kitchen. I mean, I do love to cook, and I can cook fairly well, but I’m practical too, and really have only the Food Network and my own intuition to thank for my expertise, haha, so laugh with me). On hold, until two weeks ago, when we were in enough of a predictable schedule, that after I got all the kids down for quiet time, I started getting dinner ready in my downtime, and what? Wow? Can you believe it? This gal can cook again. And truth be told, I’ve cooked up some dream of a meal EVERY day for the last two weeks (well, except for one fast food run when Nick was out of town). Oh man, did I miss that part of the regular routine. I haven't really cooked anything amazing and new and delicious since before Sam was born. Four. months. ago.

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Which leads me to the last point of this post. Sam. He’s four months old tomorrow and his mama has just finally settled into a routine enough that she took out her big amazing DSLR and snapped a few beauts to share with the masses. Can you believe it? I know its not much, but my camera is not something I’ve even wanted to deal with the last few months. No energy or creativity to figure out the right lighting or the right ideas or even just to pick up the camera and ask the kids to smile. Isn’t that sad? Sigh. Oh man, I’m so glad to be back into a regular groove again. God is good.

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And his goodness is poured out on me in so many ways, not the least of which is this angel of a baby we call Sameram. Boy, do I love him. He is content and cheerful. He smiles and coos and smacks on his thumb (yes, we’ve got another thumb sucker here!). He melts my heart with a single glance, and I love that I’m loving on him again too. Glad to be past the stress and focus on leaving and moving and meeting and greeting and to instead focus on getting my home in order.

At least for a month or two.

Because basketball practice and games, bible studies and homeschool groups, and church, and house-hunting and… well…we’re back to running around like crazy. Haha! Such is life during this stage.

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

A Fresh Start

Oh friends, what a whirlwind these last few months have been. A good whirlwind, with fun and adventure, but a challenging whirlwind all the same.

We left everything we knew, from the Army greens, to our church family, to our beautiful home in the South. And moved West… to the mountains, to a new job… to a new beginning.

I’ve always loved a fresh start. I’ve loved jumping into the newness like putting on a new coat. I love embracing its feel and shape, getting used to its length and the fabric. The trimness. The smoothness. The great beauty and joy of something fresh. Yes, I love it. I love a fresh start. The possibilities… the adventures… the people… I love it.

But oh, oh I hate it too. I hate taking off the old and setting it aside. I hate saying goodbye and leaving. I hate the emotional pull to live in the past, instead of the present… to wonder and worry what is going on in the life behind me. I find I want to hold on to my safe and comfortable home, with all its familiar creaks and drips and groans; its strong friendship and warm conversation instead of plunging into this world of coldness and unfamiliarity.

And since early December, this has been my challenge.

This has been my beautiful mess.

This place we now call home is bright and lovely. The mountains beckon us, with their snowcapped beauty and unexplored wilderness. This busy little town, with new shops and new streets, it calls to me, it whispers my name. I’m filled with longing to explore, to taste and see. The new faces, the new perspectives, the new personalities… they are exciting too. I find myself wanting to jump in, converse, and soak.

But I also want to shrink and hide. At times, I’m overtaken with the newness. And instead of being wonderful, its scary. Its lonely. The mountains, the cowboy boots, and the frigid temperatures…it is different. And it is not home. I struggle to be the new person. The awkward person. The sore thumb. The one who desperately wants to be a part, but struggles to put herself out there, to be vulnerable, to let her own awkwardness show.

Its humbling. And hard.

The kids feel it too. “Mom, they ask, will we make new friends?”  “Will there be any kids there?” “Will I have anyone to invite to my birthday party?”

And so together, we dive in. Heartstrings suitably pulled, we press on, as a family with a united front. Not just for ourselves, but this time for the children also.

We join a weekly Classical Conversations group and a Wednesday evening children’s group. We enroll in Upward Basketball. We get library cards and meet the story time ladies. We go to church, Sunday School and evening prayer meetings. We bring Christmas cookies to our neighbors. We walk to the park and chat with locals. We bring dinner to Mr. Milton. We stop and talk with people at the grocery store and at Starbucks. We host meals and play dates. We push. We pull. We work.

And slowly we’re getting there.

But even still I must remember--in my quest to belong and feel part of this new place-- that this world is not my home. I am a stranger. A pilgrim. A sojourner.

And while I may long for that comfortable coziness of home… I must remember that this side of glory nothing will ever fill that need. I’ll never be home. And the reality must yet again hit me: our old home? It wasn’t home either. The home before that. Nope, not it.

Never. Never on this earth have I been home. And never will my need and desire be filled. 

But even still, I need to keep pushing, and plunging, and pressing. I need to keep serving, keep stretching, keep meeting, keep putting myself out there. But not for me. No. Not for my kids either.

But for Him.

To be His instrument. To be His messenger. To be His servant. To bring the hope of Christ, the joy of salvation, the beauty and newness of life that comes from walking in and with God alone.

That’s my purpose. And that’s the beauty of this fresh start—its a chance to share that joy and bring that hope to others.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Lord's Day Rest

Nothing beats a Sunday afternoon nap... except maybe worshipping the Lord at church.





I'm so thankful for both--one day in seven set aside for worship and rest! Wow!

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Infamous

I always wondered what I’d do if I had a skinny baby.

Probably freak out just a little.

Slimness is not something that my kids “do.” At least during their first year of life. They are big at birth, and they just keep getting bigger. Rounder and rounder. Chubbier and chubbier with this great stuff called mother’s milk. Its not that they eat an extraordinary amount, its that, according to the doctors, I make pure whipping cream.

It never takes long before the infamous family double chin appears.

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Doesn’t he wear it well? Oooh, I just love my little double chinned boy.

Monday, November 12, 2012

Blue Eyed Boy

I don’t know how it keeps happening, but we keep producing blue eyed boys. (and it appears Samuel’s eyes are going to be blue as well).

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I admit that I’ve always kind of wanted one of our sons to be the spitting image of his father. Brown eyed. Brown haired. And drop dead gorgeous.

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Okay, so my boys don’t need to be quite that good looking (I’m so not looking forward to fending off the females in the years to come!!) But still, I love the dark hair and dark eyes, and would love for my boys to follow after their daddy.

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And they do.

In so many ways they are their fathers sons. The smiles. The expressions. The way they walk. Talk. Gesture.

But…

There are no brown eyes like their daddy’s here.

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Oh goodness, aren’t his eyes just so blue?

 

*sure wish we’d wiped lunch off his face before snapping these beauties. Nuts.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Pumpkin Patch 2012

Every year we go to the pumpkin patch.

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It doesn’t matter what state we are living in, or which pumpkin patch we go to, but every year we go. It’s kind of a family tradition.

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This year was no exception. We landed a beautiful autumn day and hit the ground running.

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At this particular pumpkin patch, West Produce, we took a tractor ride around the pumpkin patch, played store and other such country like activities, and of course, posed for pictures by wagon wheels and general stores.

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The boys loved it.

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Friday, October 19, 2012

Mother and Son

Words can’t express the closeness of this bond. Mother and child. Praise God for this new addition

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Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Delivered!

The labor and delivery with my fourth son were both the longest and shortest labor of my life.

Longest and shortest.

And truly, its hard to say which.

In the days leading up to Samuel’s birth, it seemed that I went into labor at least 3 times, only to have it fizzle out once the contractions got close enough to think about heading into the hospital.

This was so discouraging at times, as I’d anticipated this little guys arrival to be early, or at least a week before his due date like all three of his brothers before him. And with all the labor type symptoms I’d been experiencing (hard regular contractions, cervix dilation etc) there were times during the pre-labor period that I felt rather sure that “this was IT.”

On the other hand, there were also many times during the month before Samuel’s birth that I told my husband and friends that “I feel too comfortable to be this pregnant.”  My experiences in pregnancy the previous three times had been that the last trimester is long and hard and super UNCOMFORTABLE. But I didn’t feel that way this time. Whether it was the regular exercise and the healthy eating habits or whether it was God’s pure grace showered upon me, giving me strength and comfort, I don’t know. Probably both. Well, for sure the latter, but I do think the former played a role as well.

As I went through these periods of prodromal labor, I kept thinking, I’m getting close. But then, on other days, I’d be out mowing our 1/2 acre yard in 90 degree heat and think, I feel way too good to be 9 months pregnant.

And so it went. A little labor. A little comfort. A little labor. A little comfort. All the way up till my due date.

Two weeks, prior to my due date (and my delivery date, yes, Samuel was one of the 5% of babies born on his due date), the midwife indicated that she thought little Samuel was in a posterior position. Still with his head down, just his head facing the wrong direction. Sunnyside up, as the laymen call it. And baby’s born in that position tend to not only produce the longest, hardest labors, but they also increase the chances of transverse arrest (getting head stuck in moms pelvis), tearing on delivery, and c-section. Oh, and posterior baby’s very often present with a start and stop type labor that I’d been experiencing.

And well, it made me a bit worried.

Of course, its not impossible to deliver a posteriorly positioned baby. Many women have done it, and babies often turn to a proper position during labor…but delivering a posterior baby had proved nigh impossible my first time round. Isaiah, my oldest son, was born via c-section after days of hard labor, many many hours of pushing, an attempted vacuum extraction all to get that posterior head moved around in a way that allowed delivery.

And so I had flashbacks. Would I need another c-section? Or could I VBAC like I had with my previous two baby’s?

My VBAC’s had been so easy, I knew I wasn’t going to ask or plan for a c-section if I could help it. The midwife suggested several different exercises, as did close friends (thank you, Kelly, Nikki, Alicia!!), particularly the ones found here. And so I exercised my heart out. Every day, 4 or 5 times a day, doing these odd and unusual (but extremely relieving and comforting!!) exercises to rotate the baby.

I kept thinking he had moved some, as I felt kicks and tickling in different areas, but couldn’t be sure. And as time went by, and I continued with the “start again, stop again” labor, I wasn’t so sure. But God was. And He knew. And I think, in many ways, He was teaching me to be active, redeeming the time, but also teaching me to trust Him in new ways.

When September 25th, my due date, rolled around, I was a big ball of emotions. Trusting the Lord (or trying to trust!!) but also worrying that the longer I was pregnant the bigger this baby would be, and the harder it’d be to rotate and deliver him.

That morning though, I woke up with low abdominal cramping and some other symptoms of labor. But no contractions. I was suspicious, but carried on with my morning. I homeschooled the kids, cleaned the house, and went in for my scheduled OB check-up. Of course, when I arrived for my appointment, there were absolutely no contractions or reasons for the midwife to say, “this is IT, head on upstairs.” We actually had a good discussion about where I was at, I expressed my concerns about the baby’s size and gestation, we talked about natural ways to encourage labor and my hubby and I were reminded to be active in that (seriously, as though we needed reminding!!)

And then we talked about c-sections and inductions. I’d have one more week to go into labor on my own, and then a induction would be necessary, if the induction failed (because they were limited in the types of drugs for induction with a VBAC), then a c-section would be indicated.

I left the appointment still pregnant, and with a pink slip to schedule my induction for the following week and a non-stress test too. I seriously just about cried.

Thankfully, my hubby was with me, and the kids were with a good friend (thanks, Kamilah!), and so we went for a walk to unwind and to be “active” in encouraging labor to start on its own.

Well.

Sure enough. It did.

As we walked, contractions came on about 5 minutes apart. Sometimes hard. Sometimes long. Sometimes easy. Sometimes short. I was so hopeful that this was IT, but given the number of times (3) that I’d had labor start up only to fizzle out, NO WAY was I going to go into the hospital until I was absolutely certain.

So we kept walking, putting in a mile or two. To my delight, the contractions got harder and steadier, down to about 3 minutes apart. We walked over to the car, and as soon as I sat down and buckled in, the contractions slowed down to about 10 minutes apart. Sigh. I nearly cried again. We decided to go out for lunch and get Thai food for a treat.

On our car ride, my contractions stayed very hard (had to stop talking in order to breath and concentrate), but didn’t get any closer. We grabbed our take out and headed home to eat.

But no sooner was I out of the car, and moving again, than the contractions sped up again. Nick insisted that we not linger at home very long. (I think he was more convinced that this was IT, than I was). I managed to get a few bites of lunch in, and rocked on the birthing ball a few times too, before we headed back to the hospital.

I wasn’t quite feeling a sense of urgency, but good thing we didn’t wait at home any longer, as Samuel was born barely 30 minutes after arriving at the hospital.

We got up to labor and delivery (I insisted on walking, I didn’t want the contractions to slow down and fizzle out by staying stationary). I was still laboring so calmly when we reached the unit, that the secretary actually sent us out to the waiting room. I know he was probably thinking the same thing I had been: “is this really IT? normally women in labor are crying and yelling” I think I will always laugh about that.

Even funnier was that the waiting room was PACKED with pregnant moms and dads and relatives etc. I had a horrified thought that they were all awaiting L&D beds in front of me, but then quickly realized, I was the only one in the waiting room that was actually in labor!! As it turns out, I must have horrified them, as they were just there for the Tuesday, Labor & Delivery Unit Tour. Haha. That just cracks me up.

So we left the waiting area, and I labored with Nick in the hall through a few contractions before we were brought back to a room. I think the seasoned nurse that checked me knew how far I was beforehand. Seasoned L&D nurses just know. And by that point, I did too. I was 8cm and in transition and hurting something awful now. The midwife was quickly in the room, as were the nurses. We had a few moments to get acquainted, and review my medical history (VBAC, history of big babies, and a potential posterior presentation) before my water broke. I was so thankful for Nick’s help and support in articulating our concerns and making sure they understood my needs, because there really wasn’t much time for chit chat.

Samuel was born 4 minutes after my water broke. One contraction, about three little pushes, and there he was. A smoking 10lbs, 1oz, and 22 inches long!

Wow! What an experience! My labor was just over 2 hours long, if we can actually call it that. Nick was wonderful, helping me through each contraction, and encouraging me during the most intense part. I couldn’t have done it without him. The midwives were amazing too. I was so thankful that they knew what they were doing, and didn’t insist on many formalities before the baby arrived. So often, they are trying to fill out paperwork, start IV’s, and all the typical admission processes, but they saw where I was, heard Nick explain, and just let me focus and “get it done.” They made sure (at Nick’s adamant request) that Samuel had turned to an anterior position before I started to push (which he had, praise the Lord!). They also helped prevent birth trauma for me by easing Samuel out, with pressure points, stretching and massage. And yes, I yet again, escaped without a stitch or tear.

Wow!  So fast, and intense, compared to the long wait and early prodromal labor I’d had before. God was so good in every moment of it. Giving me strength and stamina. Allowing Nick to be by my side. And in getting us to the hospital so that this big boy wasn’t born in the car!!

And wow, what a big boy too!! I had been saying that if I went too much further, I’d be delivering a 10 pound baby, but no one believed me (except Nick!). Every midwife and nurse that I saw, insisted the baby was in the 7-8lb range. Even the midwife that delivered him, felt my belly and said “I don’t think we have a LGA (large for gestational age) baby in here.”

After delivering this 10 pounder, I kept having nurses stop by the room and say, “we heard there was a 10 pound baby born in here!!” and funny thing was, they kept asking me where his mom was!! I’d laugh and say, “It’s me! Right here! The one in the hospital gown.” Yes, I guess that even after labor and delivery I just looked too good to have had such a moose. Haha.

So there you have it. My longest and shortest delivery. My biggest baby. And another story of God’s goodness and grace. Praise the Lord!

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

He Has Arrived

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Samuel David

“Asked of God, Beloved”

Born September 25, 2012 at 2:24pm

10lbs 1oz, 22inches

Monday, July 23, 2012

Vacation without the Kids

I know its late to write about, but back in June I had the incredible opportunity and privilege to go on vacation by myself.

And it was so much fun, and so relaxing, and so refreshing, I have to blog about it so I can look back and remember what a true luxury it was.

It all started when a friend mentioned The Gospel Coalition Conference in Orlando, FL coming up in June. Her hubby is deployed and she thought she might leave her kids with her inlaws and go soak in the good news of the gospel at the retreat. The idea sounded so good, I mentioned it to Nick, and he unhesitatingly agreed that I should go.

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In fact, he insisted. Despite the $$ cost of the conference, lodging, food, and travel. He wanted me to have the chance to get a away on my own, without the kids, and to renew my faith and outlook on life, and to sit under pure and beautiful preaching of God’s word that I so often miss while keeping kids still in church etc. etc.

And so that settled it. No way was I going to argue. I’d just been handed a 5 day vacation to Orlando, FL with a good friend (we actually invited many more friends to join us, though it ended up just being the two of us). Take it! My hubby arranged to take 5 days off work to stay home with the boys, which was no easy task (both in getting the vacation time, and in surviving three little bundles of energy for 5 days) and sent me on my way.

We drove down to Florida on a Thursday. It was a 9 hour drive, but the time in the car flew by. My friend, Becky, and I talked the entire way. Catching up, sharing life experiences, mulling over deep questions, and meditating on the Lord. And literally the time flew by. We couldn’t believe how fast the trip went. Or how easy it was to make stops. All we had to do was see a Starbucks, run in, get our lattes, hit the bathroom and jump back in the car. None of the unbuckling, rebuckling, “hold my hand,” walk across the parking lot, “no, don’t jump on the chairs,” “please stand still in line,” “oh I wish this Starbucks had a drive thru, and “oh no, this bathroom only has one stall.” Nope. Just in out and in 5 minutes. So easy, I almost felt guilty.

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The Women’s Gospel Coalition Conference started on Friday afternoon, so we checked into our Double Tree Resort, and lounged at the pool both Thursday evening and Friday morning. I don’t know that I have ever (???) sat poolside and just relaxed like this. Perhaps I did a few times before kids were born, but just sitting and swimming and reading at the pool, without worrying about anyone of my kids drowning was such a luxury.

After a leisurely morning and an incredible breakfast at the hotels restaurant, we headed off to the conference. And had our hearts willed with gospel message after gospel message. It was incredible. It had been a long time since I’d heard so much uninterrupted solid preaching and teaching. Literally, we attended 18 one hour long sessions filled with the gospel, gospel, gospel in the course of 2 and half days. It was truly incredible. We heard from John Piper, D.A. Carson, Elyse Fitzpatrick, Nancy Leigh DeMoss, Tim & Kathy Keller, Noel Piper, Paige Brown, Jenny Salt, and many other influential authors, teachers, and preachers.

I think what I was most amazed with, was how solid everything we heard was. For a women’s conference, I had expected there to be more fluff. More touchy feely kind of feministic type stuff to have worked its way into a conference for women. I mean, wouldn’t you? I also kind of expected it to be more light, instead of true solid exposition and profound teaching. And isn’t that the stereotype anyway? That women want to hear about women’s issues (marriage, parenting, homemaking etc) instead of the gospel message and expository preaching? I fell prey to the stereotype and was OVERWHELMED with how good, uplifting, refreshing, and amazing the pure gospel message is. And oh boy, I needed to hear it. I needed to be there, to soak it in, to drink it up, to renew my faith and purpose and reason for living.

No, I do not live for my kids, for homeschooling, for cooking culinary masterpieces, or gardening the best garden, I live for Christ because he died for me. And the gospel needs to be at the center of all and everything that I do. ALL and EVERYTHING.

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One of the simplest and best take home messages I received was from Don Carson, the president of the Gospel Coalition. It was just a small part of a large exposition, but it hit home. He said, “People may not remember anything you said, they may not hear your preaching or your sermons etc, but they do remember what you are passionate about—so what are you passionate about? What do you care about most? Is it the gospel? Does it exude from you? Does it influence every statement, comment, Facebook post, and interaction you have with others? Are you known for the gospel? Or are you known for your big house? Your gourmet cooking? Your stories about your kids? Your political views? Your business savvy? Or are you known as one who is passionate about the gospel?”

Oh man, it was a beautiful convicting thought provoking message that I hope I’ll always carry with me. I thought about my day to day interactions, how I talk and speak with my kids, friends, husband and family, and how they are so rarely filled with the gospel. Do my children know me as one who loves the gospel? Or do they think I’m most passionate about them sitting still in church or putting their shoes on the right feet? What comes out of my lips more? What do I teach and discuss and tell them about all day? Is it how to be obedient (law) or is it that Jesus saves sinners (grace)? Of course they need the law, they need to learn to obey, but they need the gospel more. They need to know that Jesus died for sinners like them, for children who can’t obey. That there is hope and redemption in Christ for lost and foolish people like us.

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I could go on and on. It was such a good conference and time away.

I sure missed my hubby and kids though. It was so sweet to come home, refreshed and renewed and to be greeted at the door by my four favorite men. Praise God!

After we ate dinner together and relaxed a bit, I poured out my heart and experiences and learning to Nick. I told him I didn’t realize how tired and apathetic I had become, how lazy and disheartened I was, or how much I needed The Word of God to dwell in me richly. And by contrast, how uplifted and encouraged and zealous I was again for the Lord and for His work after hearing God’s word preached so faithfully.

Nick was so delighted by the new light in my eyes and the encouragement I received, he told me he thought I should get away every year for something like this. And what am I, crazy? I didn’t argue!!! I just gave him a big huge kiss. I don’t know about every year, but just that he wanted to give me this opportunity again was an incredible thought. Especially because my next getaway will involve him watching 4 little boys on his own.

Brave and wonderful man of mine.

 

* you can listen to all the lectures from the conference online at The Gospel Coalition

Friday, July 20, 2012

Baby of the House

Noah has been the baby of the house for 2+ years now, and let me tell you, he loves his baby status. Loves it.

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He loves climbing (and fitting!) on mommy and daddy’s laps. He loves snuggling and being held. He loves holding hands. And he LOVES asking for help with everything… even if it’s a skill or a task that he can accomplish on his own.

And of course, he’s so darn cute, and he’s only 2, and he’s THE BABY, we’ve let him get away with the extra neediness. But the reality of having another baby has hit us this past week. The pregnancy has flown by and my due date is coming up quickly. And our dear Noah is in for a shot of cold water, as the painful “dethroning” process will hit before we know it.

So we’re working at preparing him, gradually, and a little more each week.

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We’ve done lots of little things the past few months… like making him walk and instead of being carried. Training him to sleep in a big boy bed instead of his crib (this was actually an effortless transition!!!!!! We can’t believe how well he did. I don’t think he EVER got out of bed, and still doesn’t get out of bed until I come open his door in the morning). Having him sit on his own (instead of on our laps) during church. Encouraging the older two boys to include him in their play (Noah is often left out, since he can’t build with small Legos etc)

We’ve also been working at different little skills. Taking off his own shoes and socks (yes, he “really” can’t do that on his own). Cleaning up his toys as part of the routine, instead of “only if the bigger brothers aren’t doing it fast enough.”

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This past week, I started showing him lots of pictures of baby’s and pointing at my tummy and telling him that we’re having another baby soon. I show him pictures of his brothers as infants, pictures of other baby’s, pictures in books and magazines etc. And do you know what this little bugger says every time he sees a picture of a baby?

“That’s Noah!!!”

With as much delight and joy over seeing “himself” (not really himself, just a cute little swaddled bundle of baby in the pictures), as you can imagine.

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Haha! This kid is so stinking smart he KNOWS he’s the baby. And oh my goodness, isn’t that cute? Just makes me want to coddle and cuddle him all the more. So anyway, pray for Noah, and pray for us, that we’ll help prepare him and ease the transition. And that he’ll love his new little brother and that it’ll be a happy occasion when “big” baby meets “little” baby.

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