Post Category → marriage

full days, full heart.

Don’t let him fool you. My boys call for me every night to come tuck them in (even though they already have their quilts up to their chins) and kiss them good night. The arms that lock around my neck are strong and wiry and all boy. I love my boys.

I love/hate that every meal would look like this if I let it. I can tell if the book I assigned them is good by how long it takes them to get hungry for lunch. Poor Beatrice. She can’t wait until I teach her to read so she can be part of that world, too. They love to read.

And I never get tired of watching them together. ALL DAY LONG. They love each other so deeply. They are such opposites, and already, I can see iron sharpening iron. They’re learning how to interact through differences, how to point out weaknesses in an encouraging way. I wonder what their future together holds. Maybe just a deep connection each time their paths cross? Or will they be shoulder to shoulder, pursuing Jesus together?

*****

We’ve had a few PJ morning walks, when my little sidekicks wake up before I can slip out of the house. Are they the cutest? I really think so. And isn’t summer all about fresh mornings spent in pajamas?

She sings. All the time, everywhere. Her favorite theme is “When the storms come, You will be there.” Yesterday, as we drove to do errands, her chatting turned to, “When I’m a big girl, I’ll sit up next to you.” I smiled and nodded, imagining trips together and long conversations and a life of having that wonderful person for a friend. She chatted on about, “And I will fill up the car with gas for you! And go into the store and buy the things. And I will order the bagels!!” Apparently ordering bagels is quite the milestone in her eyes.

*****

I know it’s almost July, and I’m still trying to realize summer has started. I’m surprised to look at my gardens and not just see daffodils — in my mind, that’s where we still are. But no. A sea of evening primrose, the start of lilies, baby gooseneck loostrife ready to pop, delphinium waving tall and proud (unless this current rainy day does them in.) And yarrow. Deep, sunshine-yellow yarrow. I’ve never fully appreciated how many perfect little flowers it takes to form one of those beautiful heads of gold.

*****

And food. The food tells me it’s not April anymore. We will eat lots of salad, in place of winter’s pb&j. Along with our CSA’s generous shares of greens, I also planted plenty of kale this year. I hope it does well, because I can certainly eat my way through a LOT of kale in a week.

She enjoys it all as much as I do. She’s a bottomless pit! While the boys sit and read, she quietly eats all of the food. ALL of it.

Sautéed garlic and spring onions, baby kale, lemon juice, and heaps of fresh basil and parsley. It makes my mouth so happy. I forget what fresh herbs taste like!

Making pretty food does something for me. Nothing fancy, just pretty. Edible sweet pea flowers, golden yellow eggs, deep red strawberries, ta-da. Even with a fridge that is bare, it feels like we’re eating like kings.

*****

Growing.

Suddenly, last week, overnight, I went from feeling round and lumpy to being quite clearly pregnant. Funny how that happens. Ryan, the boys, my friends tell me it’s true as their eyes widen and they exclaim, “Hey! Your belly!”

Sixteen weeks of baby growing in there. Already! It’s flying by. Maybe that’s why I’m so surprised to suddenly not fit in my clothes? Perhaps pulling out some stretchy-waisted pants will help me remember: there’s a baby coming.

(I love getting a peek at what this avocado-sized baby looks like. Astounding.)

*****

Even more astounding is realizing ten years of marriage has come and gone. June 25 ten years later was a much more temperate day. It also came and went with much less fanfare, but a quiet shared remembrance that Hey, today is special. This covenant is special.

*****

And this man is special. He’s talented in a hundred ways that I am not (and therefore am all the more impressed by.) He grows. Stagnant and stubborn is not his style. He wants to grow. There is always a sense that we are moving towards eternity as we live life together, because he just wants Jesus. Sometimes it’s hard, this calling to build something that is so here, but with our eyes continually lifted to then, but he crunches numbers hard because it’s faithfulness, and he treats each person like they’re deeply important because they are, and he comes home and gets smothered by adoring children because he needs space but they need love and they’re the most important to him.

He makes the most of life’s moments. He’s not a “at 7pm every night, we’ll have devotions in this particular format” kind of guy. He grabs the teaching moments and sits down right then and helps them learn how to hear from the Lord, and how to process life by His word.

So he grabs paper as soon as he walks in the door and draws a diagram to teach about executive, legislative, and judicial branches, their powers, and the breaches thereof. He talks about the American Constitution. But he talks mostly about kingdoms rising and falling, and our God reigning forever. About living lives that are sown in death and raised to life. This is “home schooling” at its best.

means, ends, and tyrannical tools

You know those “job descriptions” of a mom that include everything from taxi driver to medic? They’re funny to read, and they’re certainly true enough, but confession:

I get things topsy-turvy.

I easily get into Nutritionist mode and forget that that’s not actually my job. Learning about health and nutritions is simply a means to an end: nurturing and caring for my children. I get into Housekeeper mode and suddenly we will have a clean house! Now! OR DIE TRYING!!

My means become the end. And my true end becomes collateral damage.

*****

You’ll hear me and so many other home schooling mamas say, “Your curriculum is a tool, not a master. It’s there to serve you, and not the other way around.”

I think of that this week. I have lots of tools in my box — not just my “mom” box, but in my “life” box. But too often I stop seeing them as tools to serve me in my goal as disciple and disciple-maker, and I begin serving them. An organized home is a blessing as I raise children who love order and work and peace. But an organized home is a terrible slave master, showing no mercy, when I let it become tyrant rather than tool. Healthy eating is a serious responsibility with lifetime effects, and I want us to be responsible with these bodies. But nutritional eating is a master that will drive you to the brink of nervous breakdown if you let it become your end, and not the means. Those are just two examples, but I’m amazed at how well that applies to every single good endeavor. (Being On Time to Church, Family Devotions, Modest Dress, Coupon Clipping, Real Play Only, Chore Charts, Gas and Mileage Savings, Bible Study Attendance, Exercise, Good Book Reading, Theological Studies… All fabulous tools and terrible Masters.)

*****

Who’s in charge here?

That’s a question worth asking myself regularly.

What’s the End (knowing and loving Jesus, and loving those I’m called to in a way that shows them Jesus), and what are the means? The end usually requires the means (don’t throw babies out with bathwater), but let’s not get lost somewhere in the middle, chasing our tails.

Hone my skills with the tools in my box. Learn how to use them. Walk by the Spirit, knowing which tool to use when, and when to lay your favorite one aside for a season. The Holy Spirit isn’t a tyrant: when I feel like I’m slave to a dictator (including my own selfish desire for clean and quiet), chances are I’ve lost sight of the Goal and have become servant to a tyrannical tool.

Down with tyrants. I’m all for freedom.

*****

Because we all like pictures in our posts:

today.

Today was a real day.

Real exhaustion.
Real tears.
Real love.
Real need.
Real tenderness.
Real togetherness.
Real correction.
Real forgiveness.
Real weakness.
Real strength.

*****

I almost bailed on going outside. I really did! I was just so tired I was falling asleep standing up. But I figured, if I’m going to do that, there’s no reason I couldn’t do it outside. Right?

Two hours.

120 minutes slipped by while we got completely caught up in warmer temperatures, sun on our faces, exploring the woods, and brushing snow off an “ice rink” on a frozen-over clearing. I stood with my face to the sun, and then looked out over the wide field. Three little people, all in their own little worlds, laying face down in the snow, studying and feeling and being mesmerized.

It was the perfect day for 15 acres of country.

I felt beyond blessed.

*****

She sings. For two hours, she treks and falls and sings the whole time. Then she recounts every detail at dinner time and ends with, “And wasn’t dat pun [fun], Mama?” So, so fun, little lady. Because you are.

William made maze after maze, hoping to stump Jameson and me. He also escorted Beatrice and me back to the house at the end of our day, making sure to clear branches and hold our hands. Gem.

This boy. He just loves me, and it amazes me. He cares about me and notices me. He’s quick to help if he senses I’m tired or down. It doesn’t matter how rough a morning may have been, he’s cheerful and whistling and setting a pace of joy for every activity. He forgives me, long before I repent. A true gift.

And this is what she did for two hours, only zipped inside my coat inside my ergo. Snug as a bug. We “skated” and danced and climbed together. I sang in the middle of the woods at the top of my lungs, and she never stirred. Happy to be near me. Always.

There were toes to be warmed, of course.

…and toes to be examined. Must not have a stray fuzz in there. That would be bad.

Love this baby.

Love all these babies.

Love these babies’ daddy.

I am blessed.

end of june

[I tried to insert pictures, but got frustrated with a flickr glitch. Click through if you want to see them!]

Last Monday was our 7th anniversary. Seven is closer to 10 than to 1. This year, our special day landed right in the middle of deadlines for Ryan, so celebration looked like a smile in the morning, roses ordered and delivered last minute, and saying at the end of the day, when Ryan looked up from his work, “So, seven years, huh? Wow.”

Just like most other special days, the best way to celebrate something is to just do it fully. (This makes me think of Psalm 116:12-13.)

I took a few pictures of the day, comparing it with a smile to our lives seven years ago. You know: special hairstyles and make up compared to finally getting a shower sometime that afternoon. And other comparisons that made me deeply thankful: two individuals who were “one” in word but still learning how in deed, compared to a family of five who lives life together in purpose and love every day.

*****

Our family of five will take a “real” vacation for the first time this year. A little house on a lake, shallow beach, boats and fire pit: these things have my little boys very, very excited. A whole week, rain or shine, to just take the moments as they come. Okay, that has me excited, too.

William has been practicing his summetime-and-the-livin’-is-easy.

*****

Another stage of our renovation is nearing completion. Do I sometimes just sit in the lamplight and soak in the loveliness? Yes, I do.

Also, on the increasingly rare afternoon that all three children are asleep, I sit in the sunshine and soak in its loveliness.