Post Category → just life

today

Today, our house recovers from a whirlwind weekend of celebration. Bedrooms were more than a bit askew when we woke up this morning, proving just how crazy getting ready for church can be — especially on Easter Sunday. Ironing boards, stray “grass” from baskets, laundry piles that hadn’t been touched for three days: our to-do list was obvious this morning. It was also quickly accomplished, thanks to two cheerful boys.

Today, the sun never quite made it out. When dawn finally came, it revealed rain. My planned walk was quickly cancelled, and our morning chores were motivated by a reward of afghans, candles, and All Creatures Great and Small on Netflix. (Overcast spring days can be such a disappointment, but reminding myself that I romanticize such weather when it happens in England helps me to change my opinion.)

Today, I put our Advent-turned-Lenten candle wreath away. Our awaited Redemption has come, and we live in His great victory — today, tomorrow, and the next day. But we also continue to wait and look and live in expectation, groaning with creation, knowing there is a complete redemption to come. We live in brokenness — experiencing within ourselves the wholeness of a new birth, and proclaiming that Good News to the broken hearts, broken societies, broken systems around us. There is life to be had! He has come! And He is coming!

Today, I had school plans and chores lists and hopes for reading out loud. But inspiration swept two boys into the world of Playmobil, and so I slip quietly away, not wanting to interrupt them in this magical moment. Play away, little boys. Pretend and laugh and build and create. The bathrooms and books can wait.

Today, I pray for the grace to be a faithful wife, mother, homemaker, sister, friend, citizen, daughter. How? How to be faithful in even one of those without lacking faithfulness in the others? Because most of all, I’m called to faithfulness to Jesus, and to the will of my Father. And He is happy to lead those who long to be led.

20 weeks

This little baby, growing in my belly, is halfway through his in-utero journey. That is hard to believe. Baby #4 has two big brothers who are ecstatic about his arrival (– “his” being used a general pronoun for human being of yet unknown gender. We like to be surprised at the very end!) He also has a sister who is growing quite infatuated with babies, her baby doll, and being bossy — all the makings of a fabulous big sister, no?

As for me, I’m just amazed and mystified at the fact that a baby, a human being, is created inside of me. And quickly, too! I’m also taken by surprise by the sheer amount of energy required of me for something that is almost invisible to my eye. (Can my shockingly round abdomen fit into the category of “almost invisible”?) I have struggled with deep frustration over my constant exhaustion, wanting to dismiss it as sheer silliness, something that I can surely ignore and just press through. But no. This baby already needs me, and I forget. I forget that I am legitimately mothering four people right now. And I am reminded that this can be a gentle easing into a life more dependent on the Holy Spirit than ever before, if I stop striving and just learn.

*****

A little tribute to my unborn baby seems an appropriate time to make sure local readership is aware of this unfortunate fact. It’s easy to ignore things like this, or make excuses for why action isn’t really required. But the truth is, your actions matter. They matter to bottom lines, to unborn babies, and most of all, to God. This is something Ryan and I are freshly challenged by. More on that in another post.

in short:

…And another long silence here.

Sometimes life is just busy happening, and I don’t write. Sometimes, though, my head and heart are swirling with so many things, and what should be said? what does this mean? what do I think?

In February, we got back into routine: and we all thrive. Boys learned new chores and happily, proudly, rose to the occasion. School work gets done, books get read, piano is practiced, and playing is a wonderful privilege.

I think about holiness, which simply means living a life that looks more and more like Jesus in me. I remember how “friendship with the world is enmity with God” shaped so much of who I was as a young adult. Have I forgotten that? Have I grown too old, too tired, too “mature”? I hope not. I wonder what my idols are, where they’re hidden in the corners of my heart. I don’t want to confuse pregnancy exhaustion with soul complacency — and the one hides so conveniently in the shadows of the other. I ask myself again: What does it mean to be an alien in a foreign land? This is all passing away; do I live like that’s true?

I’m thankful for pilgrims, for patriots, for pioneers. I’m thankful for their spirit that continually sets an example. We (Ryan and I) talk at length and depth about their actions, their decisions, their words. We read Romans 13, and the Constitution, and ponder Lex Rex and what that means for us, in this day and age. We’ve been translated to the Kingdom of light, but we live out this life in families and nations; what does that mean? Things to wonder, and things that make this truth altogether clear: He has set eternity in my heart, and though the earth should be removed, my confidence is safely in Him.

These kids, this home, this church, this country, this passing Age, a King who has captured my heart: this, in short, is what is on my mind.

winter

Once in awhile you’ll hear me exclaim, “Brrrr!”, as I run for a heavier sweater. But that’s as close as I’ll come to complaining about winter. It’s far too breathtaking to wish it away. At least, that’s my [not terribly popular, and for reasons I certainly understand] opinion.

Take this morning, for example. Yes, it was freezing cold! But thanks to a warm fleece and coat Ryan bought for me, and wool for my head and hands, the cold doesn’t do too much damage. It was just enough to make me feel alive. I walked as briskly as I could, but had to stop often. This sort of morning can’t just go unnoticed.

The morning light on fresh snow? Diamonds, opals, pearls, silver. So delicate.

January, in a nutshell.

January was, in many ways, exactly the sort of month I anticipated: slow.

And not just slow. It was definitely a shift into survive where necessary, so that in the important things, we could continue to thrive.

It was a month of many, many naps for me — and lots of days where I never got out of my pajamas. Several mornings found me on the couch, and while my three care-takers perhaps didn’t always contribute to a very restful nap, their tender words and awkward attempts at tucking me in with afghans blessed me so very much. I don’t want to forget William’s sweet kisses on my forehead this past month.

Things had to slip — anything more than basic cleaning had to wait for a second trimester burst of energy, and that’s okay. Getting into a school routine after the holidays took a bit longer than I may have planned, but I don’t think Jameson’s future was too terribly affected. I did not even once want to write on this blog, because there just wasn’t energy for extra thoughts. There are seasons, and I think I’m starting to learn how to receive grace and direction for this tired and yucky one.

Taking our days more slowly, and trying to just hold on to the important things, meant that—amazingly!—I was able to walk almost every morning (save for this past week of sub-zero!) I’m really, really thankful for those 30 minutes of fresh air and exercise each day. I glanced through my journal recently and found an entry in August, praying for the Lord to give me ideas of how I could possibly incorporate regular exercise into my life. So more than being thankful for a morning walk, I’m just thankful that the Lord hears us and answers.

I also am five successful weeks into a Read-Through-the-Bible program. Another huge success, as I’ve utterly failed every time I’ve tried such a thing for the past 15 years. (I read through it so easily when I was 16, and haven’t been able to since!) Laugh if you want, but I googled “Bible plans for moms”, thinking there’d be some bite-sized option out there, and I found Bible Reading Plan for Slackers and Shirkers. Somehow, it’s working, and I’m really enjoying the variety of each day. Another thank you to the Lord.

Regina, my midwife, came this month and brought her handy-dandy list of high-iron foods. I’m trying to get a jump start on my iron levels by downing Floradix like crazy, as well as eating spinach omelets, almonds, bran flakes, apricots, hummus, and lots of other iron-rich foods. Staying on track with such intentional eating isn’t always easy when I’m too tired to care, but the boys remind me to take my Floradix and eat my bran flakes. They’re excited about this baby, after all!

Jameson is doing well with his school work, which we’ve kept very basic this month. He has reached a point in reading where he is inspired by his own accomplishments. Each book that he “conquers” just fuels his passion for learning more. He’s a natural at math. In every subject, his learning curve is focus. He loves to help me, and the “bigger” the job, the better. If he senses that I’m depending on him to take charge of something, he eagerly rises to the occasion. If anything, we have to have talks about being too helpful!

William is just pretty happy all the time. He loves his Playmobil, much more than Jameson (who prefers the mental challenge of a new Lego set to engaging his imagination), and he’s often in a corner of the family room, lost in the world of knights and dragons and castles. He also loves to be read to—still!—and so I try to grab a minute here and there to cuddle with just him and read him a favorite story. He’s less excited about work than Jameson, but he’s learning diligence and responsibility, and he loves to care for Beatrice and me.

Beatrice is changing every day. She runs through the house on her tip toes, clutching her dolly. She is experimenting with terrorizing her brothers, and has perfected her protest of “Noooo!” She’s cuddly and spunky and loves to make us all laugh with her antics. Books are her favorite: she pulls them all off her toddler-height shelf, and then chooses from the pile on the floor. Picking them up is not her favorite thing to do, but obedience in general isn’t her favorite thing. She always sizes me up when I give her a command, determining whether or not I really mean it. Spunky, I tell you!

The absolutely best part of this past month, though, has been watching both boys being drawn by the Holy Spirit, and genuinely responding. Whether it be in worship at church, family devotions, while reading a biography of Amy Carmichael, at a prayer meeting, or listening to a sermon, I have been beyond blessed to see their tender hearts shining in teary eyes. Ryan and I have been asking for fresh passion and surrender to the things of the Lord, and it’s spilling down to our kids. Biggest thank you of all to the Lord.

So, here we are. I’m coming out of my fog, and looking forward to feeling more like my usual self — but at the same time, realizing how much God doesn’t need me and my best self to accomplish His purpose in our lives. I’m so thankful. He holds our days, present and future. That’s a good place to live.