Author Archives → Danica

spring: a blur of goodness

It’s a rainy Wednesday afternoon. Percival is napping, girls are enjoying the rare treat of a movie, older boys are studying, and I found myself wandering for a moment, looking for a plan that would appeal to my current energy level. At last I decided to organize and upload photos — and oh my! I was aghast to see it’s been since Christmas that I have done such a thing!

Busy, of course, doesn’t begin to describe life with this talented, energetic, growing tribe. Throw in a full basement renovation of 2000+ square feet, and of course a pregnancy, and you have one interesting spring!

But oh my, the best busy of all. Life poured out and then received — pressed down, shaken together, running over. The smiles and laughter, joy and encouragement, music and art, and just plain old help I get from these kids far exceeds what I give — of that I’m very sure.

Beyond the walls of this home, dearest friends who bring strength and vitality, family that is so dear, opportunities to grow and bless — so much.

Reflecting on such a large lump of time as January till now reveals this, over and over:

B L E S S E D

And were I to suffer the loss of all things, simply knowing the grace, mercy, and unfathomable love of Jesus would still leave me with overflowing cup. To add to those immeasurable gifts the twinkle of Jameson’s smile, the quiet “I’ll do that for you, Mom,” that William offers so faithfully, the effortless laughter that bubbles out of Beatrice’s soul, the energy and creativity Fiona brings to every situation, the sudden need for a hug that brings Cecily to my side, Enid’s sparkle and vivacious sweetness, the hysterical and endearing unfurling of Percival’s personality, the dearest of husbands who tends the field of his family so faithfully, a home that is warm and so much more than sufficient — where shall I stop? Yellow daffodils welcoming spring, joined by pink tulips, acres and acres of green grass and trees to explore, a mother and father who have spent hours just this spring investing in my children and their gifts, talented workmen who have made a shapeless space into bedrooms and more, friends who delight in giving unexpected gifts and words of encouragement, fellowship that goes long into the night and still not long enough, nieces and nephews whose faces light up in the presence of the Lord, a pastor who has loved our kids and laid down hours and hours showing it…

Perhaps it is the end of pregnancy, but I suspect it is the goodness of God that brings me to tears.

Yes, the end of pregnancy. A few weeks away. It suddenly consumes more of my thoughts — what to eat and when, how to get up off the ground, what exercise to do, how to arrange the pillows at night. What to name this new life. I have not fully wrestled through the fact of labor and delivery, which never gets smaller or easier in fact or imagination, but I forge ahead knowing that I am pursued by goodness and mercy.


































2022 Book Reviews

This year’s reading list was shorter than in years past for a lot of reasons, but one being that I broke one of my major rules: always have the next book ready and waiting. Crucial!! But here are the books I managed to read, along with my review and brief thoughts:

Another Gospel, by Alisa Childers
10/10
This book was fascinating and incredibly helpful in seeing past the smoke screen of progressive language and themes all around us.

The Gospel Comes with a Housekey, by Rosaria Butterfield
9/10
I loved the genuine challenge in this book to understand the gospel — that Jesus laid aside His heavenly comfort to bring us redemption. Following in His footsteps will cost us as purpose to love as He does.

You Who, by Rachel Jankovic
9/10

Another fabulous book that brings much clarity into secular and progressive themes that have gotten woven into our Christian thinking. Turns out finding our identity in Christ is the most fulfilling and abundant way to live!

How Green Was My Valley, by Richard Llewellyn
Unfinished

The library wanted their books back after several months of me hoping they wouldn’t notice, and so I didn’t get to finish this one. I’ve often wandered back to the lives of these Welsh miners since and thought about the haunting way beauty and pain are interwoven in the story.

Devoted: Great Men, Godly Mothers, by Tim Challies
8/10

A compilation of short biographies, interesting and inspiring. One take away is to be challenged in diligence as I teach and train and pray for my children; equally as impactful was realizing none of these mothers were anything close to perfect, and yet their impact, by the Spirit of God, was immense.

Dying in the Wool, by Frances Brody
4/10

Interesting mystery, fine writing, but inappropriate passages I had to skip over. I hate that.

Gates of Fire, by Steven Pressfield
9/10

For a busy mom, this was quite the endeavor, but I loved it. Not for the faint of heart. Fascinating, and as good stories do, made our Ancient History study come to life in a whole new way.

Love After Marriage, by Barry and Lori Byrne
9/10

Sound, solid, biblical, and helpful resource. God’s goodness can be our experience, as we walk in obedience to the Holy Spirit in our lives.

Our of a Far Country, by Christopher Yuan & Angela Yuan
10/10

A book you won’t put down.

Ordinary Men, by Christopher R. Browning
7/10

The writing was a bit dry, but the content was sobering.

1776, by David Mccullough
10/10

I love this sort of read, and while I certainly don’t think of myself as ignorant about the Revolutionary War or the men who played significant roles, I came away knowing these men and admiring them even more deeply.

The English Village, by Martin Wainwright
8/10

This book has me wanting to rewatch all of my favorite BBC shows, and also brought me back to How Green Was My Valley over and over. Interesting and fun!

Christmas memories


We watched “That Thing You Do” all together, and then made up some beds for four little girls under the tree. Well, not exactly under. Enid was a bit disappointed to find out that I was not, in fact, going to move all the presents and put her pillow directly under the branches. They fell asleep in the glow of Christmas lights and anticipation.


We spent Christmas Eve day making food for the evening, playing games, eating bagel sandwiches, taking naps, and finally got dressed for the evening’s celebration. Rain followed by ice followed by a blizzard of snow and intense wind made the whole day an adventure, and even our short drive felt harrowing.




Our gathering was small, thanks to nearly impossible weather, but beautiful and special. My older boys spent plenty of time over the past week helping to set up and tear down, as well as ushering and singing in choirs and doing special readings. Beatrice played piano and it was just lovely, and the two older girls sang with several other children as we lit our candles and paused to understand that LIGHT has come to rescue us from darkness. It was so special.





Then we were home, turning on music and lighting candles, pulling out the food and getting ready for our family “party.” We ate our food and drank eggnog, laughed and talked, passed out gifts purchased by siblings for siblings, and then put on the new pajamas we give them each year. We were exhausted and slap-happy, starting to show the beginnings of what would be a week full of virus, and most of all, delighting in how fun Christmas Eve is all together.






Daddy and the older kids all slept in while Percival and I lit candles and started the fire and made coffee and just waited. Finally they stirred and we began a day full of excitement and gratitude, new games and new books to read and piles to organize, food flops and food successes, and dropping like flies (at least Enid and Mama and Daddy) as the day progressed. A Celtics game, delicious vanilla pudding with berries and cream, and to bed we all went, only to wake to another vacation day together, with plenty of space for vitamins and rest, more games and trying out new crafts, pulling our house back together, and just being.


…and finding great joy in older sisters’ gifts.

A December album

Just a little photo-album-post, for my own memory’s sake:


Beatrice quietly slipping into a more and more helpful role — one afternoon she rolled and cut over 100 linzer “heart” cookies while I wrapped gifts. Game changer.


My heart catches a little when I see this. William blew me away singing the part of Amahl in my mom’s stellar production. He sang in the stratosphere, the music was challenging and he did it effortlessly, his presence on stage was endearing and sweet and tear-jerking. Something about a boy soprano is such a bittersweet thing: even as I listen and savor, there is the knowledge that, more than most things in life, this is incredibly fleeting, and once gone, will never return. Perhaps Percival will take the torch someday, but for now, I think we have heard some of the last amazing Dunphey boy soprano singing for awhile.


Breakfast out on a leisurely Saturday morning — such a rarity I can’t even think of the last time it happened. Pure enjoyment!


Finding pictures of favorite decorations — we all love this little toymaker!


My mornings by the tree are usually quite solo, and I love taking in this view.


Hundreds of cookies, pounds and pounds of butter, and plates to share wherever we go — it’s a blessing to enjoy and give abundance.


The kids and I, along with two sisters and their families, made a day trip to visit our grandparents. The kids all played piano and ukulele and sang and were generally happy and excited and the biggest treat for everyone who lives at the Center. A long, long day of driving is so worth the joy we leave and the love expressed.


Finding this little crew, happily singing “Twelve Days of Christmas” together.


Partying hard at the Ockrin’s was a bit much for this little lady.


Someone lit all the candles for our first dining room table meal and had to take a picture. I don’t blame them!


Rare, and a favorite: sitting all together by candle- and tree-light, eating Christmas cookies and reading Christmas stories.


This. How I love these girls, love their affection, love that in the midst of so much busyness and commotion, they find my hand to hold or my lap or my neck to squeeze.



Cecily turned SEVEN! Oh my, what a treasure she is!! Her heart is so tender and sensitive, her humor so developed and hysterical, her smile so full and unabashed.


Sometimes I see something like this and my heart catches in my throat — something so simple as sitting and laughing together at a random moment of the day, and yet, someday sooner than I know, it will be the rare treat that only happens through great effort and planning around holidays and summer visits.


We did our family shopping trip without Ryan, who was home with quite the virus. St. Lawrence Bookstore was the destination, and we were successful without too much agony, and now bags are stashed in my room, waiting for the great Wrapping Afternoon.

And now, a few more sleeps, a few more busy days, a few more Advent books to count down… *sigh*

Christmas Time is Here…

We’re on that fast train called December, hurtling along, express style, toward 2023.

It always takes me by surprise. One minute we’re in September and I’m catching my breath from the summer, settling into a routine for what feels like the first time all year, and the next minute it’s almost over.

Time presses us, doesn’t it? It heals wounds and brings growth, and it cuts short and signals death. Forty of these ever-flowing weeks brings us to the birth of a new baby while simultaneously carrying me along, ever closer to my end.

But were time and money infinite, we would find ourselves lost in a sea of priorities with no urgency to actually choose any. Instead, they are anything but infinite. We are anything but infinite, and don’t we know it, deep in our souls. And so each tick of the clock is a crossroads, a decision point: what will be the things that matters to us? (There is a Kingdom outside of Time, whose rule is infinite, and investment therein brings eternal rewards. I highly recommend, with each movement of the second hand: choose Jesus.)

*****

This past week we said goodbye to November, full of thankful hearts as we gathered the Sinclair clan for food and fun. Pilgrims and pumpkins were packed away, Diana Krall began her yearly reign from our kitchen speaker, and Christmas appeared.

We decorated, made cookies, prepared dozens of teacher/CFA volunteer gifts, watched Christmas movies, lit candles, got our tree, ironed holiday clothes, and inaugurated the season with the kids’ CFA Christmas concert.

We also got hit with a tummy bug, several days of a fever for Percival, horrible rainy weather instead of snow, had gobs of study for Greek finals, basketball practices, and had to cancel our very first holiday gathering.

Our “tree day” summed up what so much of this fall has felt like: not quite to plan, not exactly how we’ve usually done it, plenty of divide and conquer, with Ryan and I trying to keep the big picture in mind as we work with a new set of variables. And it also summed up the goodness of God I’ve been basking in: years of working very hard to build a family where love, servanthood, and right priorities shape us, and now seeing those values genuinely take root in the lives of our older children. Suddenly a day can seem to go awry and yet stay absolutely on course because we are pulling together, smiling, serving, keeping our eyes on the prize. And so, when that tree was vertical and watered, lit and decorated, and we all sat together eating rum logs, although the day had lacked “magic,” what we ended up with was even better. We had persevered together, repenting along the way as needed… and by George, we’d gotten that tree up!

And so here we are: a month to celebrate well, purposely carving out time to reflect, enjoy, beautify, and create. May we all serve and bless as we go, giving generously, and receiving the small blessings that surround us and the staggering blessing available to us all through the kindness of Christ, our Savior and Friend.

the law of giving

Give, and it shall be given.

That’s a rule, a law, of the Kingdom of God. Like gravity pulls without us trying, like Newton’s laws pre-existed Newton by thousands of years, the law of what you sow = what you reap (and every derivative of that law) rules our lives without our trying and even without our understanding. It simply is true: sow and reap. Sow more, reap more. Give, it will be given.

I’ve thought about this often over the last decade or more as I’ve contemplated what sort of woman I want to be “when I grow up.” I aspire to be someone of not just some strength, but of great strength; of not just some capacity, but of great capacity; of not just a bit of grace, but overflowing with the fruit of the Spirit. How do I get there from here?

The Holy Spirit has spoken so clearly: it’s not by guarding what strength I have, making sure I never am pushed anywhere near my breaking point. It’s not by pulling back from the edges of my capacity — which somehow makes me feel like I have more capacity because look, extra! It’s not by keeping myself from situations that press me past my current grace-flow and expose the dirt in the bottom of my vessel. No, not at all.

It’s by giving. Allowing myself to be given. Pressed, pushed, poured out. I start to worry my strength is collapsing, my mental and emotional capacity is at its limit, and I’m losing my temper right and left. I want to slip into survival mode, self-protection mode, and pull back. Too much, that’s too much, I’m drawing the line and saying NO.

But who’s asking? To whom am I saying no?

Because if this path of pressure is actually the forging fire of the Spirit of God, then my answer needs to be YES, and here’s the thing: I feel my lack and it’s not an illusion — I’m really and truly not enough. But He isn’t in the business of making me the best version of me; He’s forming Christ. This forging fire? I will come forth as gold.

And so I remain, I don’t run. I give and when I’m empty, He supplies my seed for sowing. The strength that came from my sheer stubbornness and bossiness erodes so quickly, but that is when He gives strength to the weary — Holy Spirit strength. Do you see what’s happening? I give all I have, empty myself, and then He comes and supplies — and the supply He gives is supernatural. I’ve poured myself out and find that I’ve been refilled — but with stuff that is of heaven. Gold.

Love, joy, peace. Patience, kindness, goodness. Faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.

Signs and wonders. Healing and miracles.

Give, give, give.

Get all the way to the bottom of yourself. Because we want the good stuff. We want Jesus.


(Pictures of Beatrice finding the joy of giving as the oldest sister and the oldest of this newly-forming gang of “youngers.” She is a treasure.)