And Just Like That

And just like that, as quickly as the two lines turned blue, the Lord is changing me. Encouraging me, once again, to lay down my fears, to lay down my anxieties, to lay down my selfishness, to lay down the idolization of order and control and a sparkling clean house. 

To rest. 

In Him. 

The tears come, and my husband smiles, and then, in a bathroom that needs washing as much as the people standing in it, the Lord speaks to my heart those words that soothe like balm, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

Am I, myself, ready? Absolutely not. Am I on my own, able? In no way. But one thing is sure. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. He is ready. He is able. And He is sufficient. 

Lord, help me to rest in You. 

 --------------------------------

Should our Father will, we are anticipating welcoming baby #4 come late Spring. We hope you'll join us in giving thanks to the One who gives, as well as, the One who strengthens us for all that He wills. 

"...Blessed be the name of the Lord." Job 1:21

The View From Here

Because

Because nothing brings out a smile on a toddler steeped in the post-nap grumpies quite like saying, "Wanna decorate the cake with sprinkles?!"

Just Judah

Twenty months and the naughtiest of them all. 

Lover of milk. Preferably in a bottle. 

THE reason for the lock on the snack cabinet. 

 Always covered in whatever he's eating. 

Saying "Hi!" is kinda his thing.

Proficient climber of anything and everything in the house-crib included. 

Grunter and yeller {and does it with gusto, I might add}. 

Sits down when he knows a spankin' is coming his way. 

Professional waver. 

T.V. turner-off-er.

Cup stacker. 

Flower picker. 

Total water dog-the toilet's his fav! 

Biggest blue's. 

Dancin' fool. 

Weighs just two pounds less than his oldest brother. 

Longest sleeper in the house. 

Giver of the tightest hugs and the wettest kisses. 

 Stealer of our hearts. 

Just Judah.

Weekends Are For...

racing your brother in the rain.

How We Say PRESEASON!

Nine Years of I DO

 

Today strikes nine years since our two became one. Nine years since our boy-girl selves waited at opposites ends of the isle, love struck and optimistic about the future. Nine years since we made a Covenant before our Lord and then set up in a tiny apartment in a sketchy part of town. Nine years since we declared, overcome by sheer passion and the wonder of it all, that we'd never let the flame that we thought was love, grow dim. Nine years. 

It's not a lot, nine years, especially compared to those who have been wed a lifetime. It's definitely not worthy of celebration by the world's standard. It has no claim on pearls, silver, or gold and for certain there are no slots notched  out for it at the local card store. But how this 9th anniversary resonates with me more than any of the others, simply because I now understand that the sheer passion and wonder of it all is not enough. Love must be done. 

Love is in the purposeful touch even when the kids run rampant below and dinner threatens to burn. It's running to a drug store in the middle of the night  for cough drops or massaging a tight neck after a hard days work. It's completely stopping what you are doing to get something off a high shelf. It's really listening to the other person, even if that person is talking about records :) It's smiling more , saying, "thank you" more, and giving more. It's leaving a note tucked between the sandwich and the chips or an "I Love You" phone call, despite the fact that work is swamped. It's bearing each others burdens. Simply, it is done. 

Claiming to love is not enough.

Passion is not enough. 

Love must be done. 

"...let us not love in word or in tongue, but in deed and in truth." 1 John 3: 18

So I thank you, my sweet husband, that every day of these last nine years, in quiet, self-sacrificing actions, your words have given way to deeds. Coffee brewed, steaming in cup, as my not so peachy self stumbles down the hallway. Taking me and waiting with me each time I have to go to the ER with a migraine. Bathing the boys every night so I can have a few minutes of quiet "milking the cows." You have compassion for where I hurt, concern for what troubles me,  and grace for when I fail. And it's been in all these deeds that your "I do" has taught me that love really is all about the do. 

Happy Anniversary, Darling. I love you so much.   

 

Back Again

I have to admit, this post has had me pondering for most of the day. A coffee cup and a half deep this morning and I thought I'd be up to the task. Fail. "Don't worry, naptime is just around the corner," I told myself. Fail. And now here it is, 9:27, and I am still fumbling for how to start and what to write. So I think for the sake of getting a blog posted, I will just write. {Because who couldn't use a little more unedited run-on sentences in their life?!} Just stick with me people, there will be pictures!

Anyway, July was busy, busy and HOT! Coupled with the heat was also the fact that we had our longest run without rain in ten years. Seriously, it was hot! So, the boys and I spent most of our time at our local splash park or at Target or Wendy's {where the air conditioning flows like milk and honey!}. And while our summer camping plans were dashed due to fire restrictions and closed state parks, we still managed to find lots of outdoor time and plenty of things to climb. 

Despite the lack of rain, state wide fires, and the raging heat, for some reason Jer still thought fireworks would still be a good choice. As would letting Uncle D help the big boys set off Roman Candles. Ay-yay-yay, I will never understand boys and their love for fire. But that sense of awe  and look of amazement over the "grand finale." Priceless.

And as for those of you with littles, check our this tremendously brilliant idea for protecting tiny fingers from sparkler burns. Poke the sparkler through a large plastic cup and light! My neighbor told me about it and I thought I would pass on the burn-free love.

As for things non-fire related, I will move on to one of the sweetest days of our summer, an afternoon of blackberry and apricot picking. 

 A couple weeks ago, the boys and I met up with our sweet friends, Ben and Zek, and their momma, Sally, and mowed through a friend's backyard, if you can even call an acre of  FREE FRUIT a backyard. Oh the joy! We picked and ate and ate as much as we picked. And fed the kids whatever we had on hand, just so we could keep picking.

I'm not sure how much we ended up with collectively but I managed to make 15 pints of jam with my stash. {Recipe here} And for those of you who have done it, then you know what a labor of love it is. But man, what a thrill when you hear those lids pop! Yes, I am expressing my excitement over canned goods. No, I am not 97. Moving on...

Some people read People. Some people watch reality t.v. I browse Pinterest. Warning: It's more addicting than Trader Joe's White Cheddar Popcorn. I saw a clothespin bag tutorial on there and had to make it. Along with 9,643 other things. Oh, the inspiration. Check it out!

Last, I will leave you with my sweet A.B.Ham, as his brother likes to call him, and his pal, Char, at Music and Movement at our local library. And I promise to be back. Back with updates. Back with the happenings. Back with life. These little men are growing by the day. Until then...

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