Post Category → family

sunshine, at last

Is there anything better than a sunny day around 60 degrees, an old pair of jeans, and a trowel? I think not. The only thing that could possibly improve it is if a friend announced that she would make and bring you dinner. (I happily stayed outside even longer.)

I really and truly loved this past winter. There were so many special days with my four little loves, discovering magical worlds in our snow-covered woods, sipping hot cocoa on sub-zero days, reading Narnia in the winter afternoon sun… I didn’t want it to end. Maybe I’m God’s favorite kid, because it honestly seemed like it was never going to end.

Today, soaking in warm sun rays, listening to swallows make their annual nest in our birdhouse, smelling dirt and grass and the spicy scent of beebalm sprouts — I remembered how much there is to love in this season, too.

What’s this? Oh, you know, just my big boy shielding his eyes from the sun. Who knew that would be such a wonderful sight?

life with these littles

It’s been a real-live week. Rainy days, school that’s lasting about 6 weeks too many, teething baby, 2pm that you really would like to be 7pm… Real.

Jameson prayed this morning, “Lord, help us to know that even when we struggle, that’s just part of learning to know You, and that You’ll always be there for us.”

This little boy prophesies almost every morning lately. William prays things with insight I haven’t given him. It’s the Holy Spirit. It amazes me.

And yes, we struggle. We stop and ask for patience, grace, forgiveness. We love God and we love each other, but sometimes we love ourselves more. That’s sin, but 1 John 1.9 is in our hearts lately: He forgives and cleanses. Washes. Fresh start. Try again. And here’s a Helper.

*****

Jameson is playing coach-pitch this year. That’s him, on the left, in the air because he never stopped jumping in excitement. Best news: His Uncle Daniel is coaching him. All of his little baseball dreams are coming true.

He pushes me to my wits’ end, and he makes me laugh. I just love this kid. This morning, he was taking forever to clean the bathrooms. Forever. When I, exasperated, asked what was taking so long, he answered cheerfully, “I’m almost done, Mom! I’ve only got two left!” (He only has two to clean.) He knows how to see life half full!

William is happy and easy-going and smiles huge smiles at Fiona. This morning he kissed her and then informed me that “I think she can really feel the luuuuv when we kiss her, Mama.” Ha!

Beatrice suddenly stuck her arm straight out toward William, fingers splayed. “Wiw-yum, I am forcin’ you!” Huh? Oh!, we finally realized. She’s trying to be all cool and play Star Wars in her toddler-girl way.

Fiona was propped in her little rocker by Jameson, and then promptly surrounded by beaming siblings who were incredibly proud of her for sitting there. “Take a picture of us! Come on, everybody! Smile!” (Said Jameson.) (And yes, Beattie is wearing polkadots, crazy tights, and fishy slippers, with floral sunglasses in hand. Wow.)

my two girls.

Fiona Elspeth. Look at this smile!

*****
Grandma and her little namesake. They really like each other. Grandma would say it’s because they’re both so sweet; Grandpa would roll his eyes, laugh, and mention something about spunk. Either way, it’s fun to see them together.

tender shoots

Some days are just all small and simple, just like the ones that came before and the ones that will come after, but suddenly something beautiful and really big happens. It doesn’t even always feel big. Sometimes, I’m sure, I miss the moments completely. But days of sowing and praying and faith will yield fruit, and just a glimpse of a tender green shoot completely excites me.

This boy. Lanky and long. Learning. This is him, slipping out of his bed to proudly show me his latest journal entry. The journal he begged me for, which he now keeps near his bed. A little record of the Bible passage he’s read, his little thoughts on it, the prayers that are in his heart. A treasure trove. “Psalm 100. Praise, like, wow, it’s like a super power.”

This boy. He lays in bed and asks Jameson about heaven, about knowing that you’re going there. Ryan hears and brings him out to the quiet family room, where the three of us chat about Jesus, about the gospel, about knowing that you’re His. He prays, and then his eyes shine. He beams. The next morning, he beams. I ask in devotions if anyone has a testimony, and he jumps at the chance to say it: Last night, I got saved!

We rejoice. Jameson bounces in his seat, his eyes beaming now, too. “Can we all tell about when we got saved? Can we??”

He runs to the kitchen. We wait. And wait. Finally he appears.

“It was at the dinner table. Daddy talked to me. He drew me a picture, kinda like this, I think.”

He produces his version of this sketch.

“We all are trying to be good enough, to jump far enough, but we can’t and we fall down to the devil. But Jesus is over here, and then He comes to us. And He brings us over when we believe in Him.”

Yes! We all beam.

Can we sing that song for Easter?, they ask. So we end our happiest of devotions:

Jesus is alive!
The angels say.
Be glad, be glad
It’s Easter Day.

*****

“But Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart.”

My heart is filling.