My Concert Debut

Today I make my concert debut on the trombone.  I will get up there and play "Jingle Bells" and "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" with the Beginning Band and hope that the 9-year-old trombone player next to me doesn't laugh too much.  It is amazing the number of sounds that can come out of the end of a trombone!

I'm now totally convinced that every adult needs to try something completely new for the following two reasons:

First, it keeps us from taking ourselves too seriously.  I am seriously bad on the trombone, but in the midst of all the homeschooling and ministries and other heavy responsibilities, I am having a grand time learning to play it!

Second, for the sake of the little people in our lives, it helps us remember what a hard thing it is to learn something new.  When you can sit down at a piano and play a Chopin waltz "just because",  it is quite a humbling eye-opener to discover that "Jingle Bells" is such a difficult song.

I'll let you know how it goes and post some pictures in the next few days.  This should be good hilarious!

Silly Saturday: Road Trip Bliss

Over Thanksgiving, we drove to South Carolina to spend the holiday with Paul's parents and siblings.  The kids are great travelers, but this was our first time traveling with the puppy.  We were pleasantly surprised to find that she is a pretty good traveler too!  She was in heaven on her little bed cozied up to the kids in the back seat.

The picture below is one I snapped at some point during the drive.  I guess next time I need to get her some headphones so she doesn't feel left out...

Gardens and Grace: The Tree in That Other Yard

A few weeks ago, I took a morning walk with the puppy before anyone else had gotten out of bed.  The air was crisp and clear, and the streets were still moist with dew.  It was an absolutely lovely fall morning to walk around my neighborhood.

The last couple of months have been busy, so I haven't walked as much.  Somewhere along the line, summer melted into fall, and the world came alive with color.  I was thoroughly enjoying the beauty of all the hues and textures in the neighborhood landscaping until I rounded the corner and saw it-- a glorious red tree in the front yard of a house on the next block.

Tall, stately, majestic and beautiful-- this grand, flaming-red tree.

In the midst of my admiration-- in the midst of my praise of a Creator who had the paintbrush and creativity to give us good gifts like crimson trees-- where did my fickle, weak heart want to run?

"I wish I had a red tree like that in my yard."

There it is.  I'm ashamed to admit it, but that discontentment had reared its ugly head yet again.

I thought about this all the way home.  How is it that my heart jumps so quickly to comparison, discontentment, and longing instead of thankfulness?  I've been given so much.

A few minutes later, I rounded the corner to my street and was struck by the colors in my own yard.  No, I didn't have a red tree, but the burning bushes and burgundy mums were vibrant and beautiful.

  Some white mums had actually taken on a lovely lavender tinge.

Some of the big trees had already lost their leaves, but plenty of gold remained on the other ones.  Gazing down the block, all of the colors jumped out in their glory-- one long continuous stream of fall beauty.

How is it that I see the gifts in other people's lives so much more quickly than I notice the ones in my own?  As I come to the end of the month of Thanksgiving, I'm struck again by the need to be thankful in all circumstances-- to be content with the things I have.  The Bible says that godliness with contentment is great gain, and I'm learning that the key to contentment is a spirit of thankfulness.

It's not even remotely productive to compare myself, my house, my yard, my children, my possessions, my husband, or my talents with the gifts God has given to others.  It is a tool of the enemy to get me to take my eyes of Christ and put them squarely on myself-- which usually just ends in disappointment and sinful attitudes.

As I pass into December-- the month of Advent and reflection on Immanuel-- I have a renewed desire to count my blessings-- to gaze intently at Christ as the first and best gift, and then be thankful for each good gift that God has given me beyond that.

The yard is now put to sleep, the lawn bags have been loaded on the truck for their composting adventure, and the time for listening in my garden has grown short, but the grace poured down continues.  Spring will come again, but for now, the winter provides time for listening in a different way.  Will I have the ears to hear?  I pray so.

Parent-Teacher Conferences

In the last few days, I've talked to several friends whose kids had a couple of days off last week due to parent-teacher conferences.  Oh, how I remember those days from when I was teaching in a traditional classroom.  They are fun for the kids, but not so much fun for the parents and teachers.

Now, when you homeschool and you're the parent and the teacher, there's really no need for a conference, right?  I mean-- I already know everything the teacher would want to say to me as a parent.  (I also know exactly what the teacher is thinking at any given moment-- which I guess could either be really helpful or really not.)

I do like the idea of the days off though.  Maybe I should schedule some parent-teacher conferences.  I can hear it now--

"Hey kids, I'll be in the family room talking to myself!"

While I'm at it, I wouldn't mind scheduling a conference with the principal when he gets home from work.  I think he's awfully nice.

And smart.

And hardworking.

And handsome.

"Hey kids, I'll be in the family room kissing the principal!"

Silly Saturday: Brown-and-Serve Rolls

This last week, our local grocery store had brown-and-serve rolls for buy one, get one free, so I bought several packages.  These rolls come 12 to a package, so with a family of six, that means 2 rolls per person at dinner.

Apparently, though, that wasn't enough one night, and the kids begged me to make some more.  I guess there's just something wonderful about a warm dinner roll on a cold night.

They were so earnest, that I finally decided to make another package.  The kids were literally standing in front of the oven counting down with the timer.  When the timer went off, Isaac, my 7-year-old, started jumping around the kitchen yelling,  "They're done.  They're done.  Let the roll-eating commence!!"

Commence. (Where do little guys get big words like that?)

Grown-up Girls and Picture Books

A grown-up girl went by herself to the library last night.  Books needed turned in, and the young ones sent a list of items they wanted her to check out.

As the girl walked through the doors into the land of children's books, a lump formed in her throat.  All those books.  Hundreds of books.  So little time. So very little time.

And there was a catch in her breath and her heart.  Picture books aren't on that list any more.  There are still hundreds of picture books left to read, even though hundreds have been read, but the requested books are now long chapter books.

"How can we be so quickly done with picture books?  How can a simple trip to the library be such a stark reminder of how quickly the time goes by?  How can these dear ones grow up so fast?  The time and days and years are flying at breakneck speed as these four tumble and stumble through the lessons that need to be taught and learned.   The children look a little less like children every day.  How does this grown-up girl redeem the time-- and redeem it without becoming overwhelmed at the enormity of the task and the flying minutes?"

Then the truth broke through the musings.

"She redeems it one book at a time, one folded shirt at a time, one dirty plate at a time, one math lesson at a time, one snuggle of a sick girl at a time, one band-aid on a boy's knee at a time, one catechism question at a time, and one "dropping-to-the-knees-to-plead-for-help" at a time.  She redeems it with a never-ending, early-morning, relentless search to find what the Great Author of Time says about numbering our days to gain a heart of wisdom as we live in a time-restricted world."

So as this grown-up girl walked past the stacks and stacks of picture books toward the stacks and stacks of chapter books, she heard her heart say, "Curious George and Pooh, stay awhile longer.  Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys will scoot down and make room.  The kids may seem to be finished with picture books for now, but none of us are ever done with good stories."

Then as she approached the first line of shelves, she remembered yet again that the innate longing for a good book and a good story is a actually a great gift from the Author of the Greatest Story of all...

...the one in which the grown-up girl is the daughter of a King whose Son died to save her life.

Of All the Funny Things...

Sometimes things happen that just make you laugh...

My kids joined a homeschool music association this year, and our oldest three are in beginning band.  I have played piano since I was a little girl, but I've never learned to play a band or orchestra instrument.  During the time I've been sitting in the band room over the last eight weeks, I have been fascinated to learn about all the different instruments.  I'm also so impressed with the fact that the band director knows how to play every single instrument!

This particular music association allows parents to take the classes for free, so I had decided that next year I would join the beginning band class and learn an instrument.  I hadn't picked an instrument yet, but I figured I would just spend the next several years in the beginning band and learn a new instrument each year-- just for the fun of it!

I was talking with the band director this last Tuesday, telling him how much I appreciate what my kids are learning.  I mentioned that I wanted to be in his band next year, and to my surprise, he said I could join now if I could find an instrument!  When I asked if he had a suggestion, he suggested trombone!

I have never pictured myself with a trombone.  French horn maybe, but trombone?

The more I thought about it, the more I thought it would be so fun to learn any instrument, including trombone.  I wrote to a friend that has played the trombone for many years to see if she had any suggestions or knew of any that I might borrow for a time.  As it turns out, she has one that I can use for awhile!

So I guess that now, for better or for worse, I'm going to learn the trombone!!  I just have to laugh.  This is going to be great fun!

Now instead of family practice sessions with a baritone, flute, and percussion (as well as the harmonica my parents sent to my youngest so he didn't feel left out), we will now have practice sessions with baritone, flute, percussion, harmonica, and trombone!

Oh, the noise and the joys!!!

I'll let you know how it goes.  This could be hilarious.

At any rate, it is another adventure for this piano teacher who is constantly preaching to her students to be life-long learners.

I guess it's time to take my own advice.

Heidi playing a trombone.  Of all the funny things!

Dusting or Resting

My coffee cup sits steaming on the kitchen table in front of me, reheated in the microwave for the third time since 9 a.m.  I lean in close to hear a seven-year-old read the part of the story where the Boxcar Children are reunited with their Grandfather.  His monotone, slightly-halting cadence is soft and steady, but he stumbles on fewer words these days.  He's learning fast.

To my right in the family room, a young percussionist is practicing pages 9 and 10 from his band book on the xylophone-like bells.  His audience is the ever-attentive puppy, who is sitting in her crate gnawing on a rawhide bone with little puppy teeth.  I hear the boy keeping time under his breath as his head bobs up and down and his hands tap with the green-tipped mallets.

"One, two, three, four, rest, rest, rest, rest."

Behind me in the dining room-- an altogether different sound.  A beginning baritone player is trying to figure out how much air needs to go down the mouthpiece in order to get an F instead of a B flat.  Warbled notes and multiple tones are slowly beginning to give way to sounds that are more musical, and he's doing his best to work his way through pages 9 and 10 too.

"Boom, boom, (warbly) boom, boom, rest, rest, rest, rest."

Upstairs I can hear a girl on a flute, probably sitting on the toy chest at the end of her bed with a music stand in front of her.  She's fluting away on a B flat scale and trying to hold a note for ten counts today, because yesterday she could hold it for nine.  One more count a day is her goal.  Last week she could only hold it for four, but the band director knows a girl that can hold it for twenty-one, so the blowing and breathing and practice continues.

"Toot, toot, toot, toot, rest, rest, rest, rest."

This indoor cacophany-- this blowing and tooting and tapping and huffing and puffing and reading-- all melds together as I gaze out the window on a gorgeous fall day.  The leaves are blazing gold and red, fluttering their way to the ground in the sunshine, making their own kind of music.

"Flutter, flutter, flutter, flutter, rest, rest, rest, rest."

But then this melody of sound and movement and practicing and resting goes quickly out of tune as I gaze around the kitchen.  Every pot I own is in the sink, waiting to be washed.  Library books, school books, and shoes clutter my view.  The couch is covered with laundry waiting to be folded.  Up on my bed, there is a pile of unmatched socks.  Did I even make the bed this morning?  An epic battle of Axis and Allies between dad and boys is ongoing on the dining room table, waiting for dad to get home from work.  A little bag of popcorn from last night's snack sits on the counter, along with the mail and the ads and the last couple of jalapenos from our garden.  And the dust.  All that dust.  Isn't company coming today?  And piano students? How do I get that dusting done?  What about the bathrooms, and the mopping, and the laundry, and the academics?"

And the cadence of my heart is very different now.  How do I ever keep up with all of these things?

"Teach, cook, wash, clean, stressed, stressed, stressed, stressed."

The booming and puffing and tapping and reading continue, and in my heart there is this banging and clanging and dissonance.

Next to me, I hear the next sentence, read by a small boy oblivious to all of the other noise.

Ah, but then the Conductor of the universe breaks through the noise in my heart and reminds me again of the words that brought life and melody out of the chaos just this morning.

"For He knows our frame.  He remembers that we are dust." Ps. 103: 14

The Composer of life and music and golden leaves doesn't just know I'm dust.  He remembers.  Knowing and remembering are two altogether different things.  Knowing is important, but remembering is active and conscious and gives way to life and grace and help.

And I suppose that if Almighty God, maker of Heaven and Earth has dust, maybe it's ok that I have some too.  Maybe the never-ending dust glorifies God by reminding me that I am just dust too-- that I am so dependent on Him for everything, and that I can't do this mammoth job of mothering without His help.

Oh, but He knows.  He remembers.  He remembers that I am just weak and frail with a heart easily stressed.  He tells me that His power is made perfect in my weakness.  That promise changes everything, doesn't it?

My gaze falls back on my steaming coffee cup.  I look around at my children, engaged in their little lives and activities, happily making noise and messes, mistakes and music.  And God lovingly gazes down on His daughter, engaged in life and activities, making noise and messes, mistakes and music.

The minor melody in my heart a few minutes ago has given way to an altogether different tune.

"He knows, He remembers, He knows, He remembers....

Rest, rest, rest, rest."

Talking to Myself

This is the conversation that I had with myself yesterday as I was once again working my way through the laundry pile:

"Swim trunks????? What in the world are swim trunks doing in the laundry on October 17th?  The pool closed seven weeks ago!"

"I can't be that far behind on laundry, can I?"

"Hmmmm.... Oh, wait.  That's right.  Now I remember..."

"Last Sunday, the boys spent the afternoon building Lego boats and testing them in the tub.  They must have needed to get in with the boats.  After all, that's what any good scientist would do, right?"

"Whew!!!"

"I'm not as far behind as I thought.  I think I'll celebrate with coffee..."

                "...No, may be dark chocolate..."

                                   "No, there's none in the house."

"Maybe I'll just take a nap."

A Week of Pictures- Day 7: Puppy Math

A little bit of puppy math:

6 (the number of people in our family that wanted a dog)

+18 (the number of months we prayed for one that would be "just the right dog that wouldn't bother our allergies and asthma".)

+1 (e-mail we got from a friend telling us she had met a family that needed to give away a puppy that was part the breed we had been looking for -Rhodesian Ridgeback)

+31 (the day in August that we met that family and the puppy and brought her home!)

+0 (the number of people whose allergies and asthma were bothered by this new puppy-- Nothing short of miraculous and a specific answer to a specific prayer!)

+2 (expensive vet visits-- one for several ailments she had when she came to us, and one for a bad limp that started 2 weeks after she came.)

+1 (expensive surgery needed to repair a torn ACL in the puppy's knee.)

+1 (week of intense prayer about what to do-- What is the path of faith?  What is the path of logic?  Should we keep her or give her away knowing that we had already spent several hundred dollars on vet bills and had no money for the surgery?)

+4 (long phone calls with rescue organizations and a dear friend who was a professional dog trainer.)

+6 (family members that were absolutely heartbroken that we might have to give her up.)

+1 (generous, gracious, anonymous animal-lover that has offered to pay for the surgery.  Again, nothing short of miraculous.)

+ 6 (people in our house who have fallen completely in love with this darling, good-tempered Rhodesian Ridgeback/Springer Spaniel mix that fits our family so well.)

=

1 puppy who is here to stay and

1 faithful God to Whom we trust our future and hers.

Meet our sweet little Leeli:

A Week of Pictures- Day 6: The Nintendo 3DS Cake

Josiah asked for a Nintendo 3DS cake for his 12th birthday.  The cake was a large sheet cake literally bent in half, propped up, and frosted.  We used Skittles, Twizzlers, a Starburst, and frosting to add the details.  Here are a couple of pictures:

A Week of Pictures- Day 5: Sugar Rush

Over Labor Day weekend, we hosted a large gathering for the family fantasy football draft.  We had a fantastic day with two of Paul's siblings and their families, and two of his uncles and their families.

This was the scene on the table and kitchen counter at some point during the day.  I think someone counted more than twenty 2-liters of pop! Talk about a sugar rush!

A Week of Pictures- Day 4: Growing Up at the Beach

When Paul's uncle died, we drove to South Carolina for the funeral.  It was a blessing to be there to support Paul's aunt, and we had the joy of seeing many other family members that we hadn't seen for quite awhile.  Since we were so close to the coast, we took a little time one morning to go play on the beach.

I now have quite a few pictures of our kids sitting in the sand on our various visits throughout the last several years.  To look at these photos side by side is bittersweet.  Same beach, same kids, same girl with a handful of sand, and in some cases even the same swimsuits on different boys, but time marches forward, and these precious ones get bigger all the time.

2007

2012

A Week of Pictures- Day 3: Blueberry Picking

"Berry Picking" was one of the items on our Summer Bucket List.  One day in August, some friends took us to their favorite blueberry farm, and we came home with fifteen pounds of berries!  A few of them even made it to the freezer!  Here are a few pictures...

I've given a lot of thought to the sign pictured above.  We tend to see bees as a nuisance or difficulty, but without them to pollinate the flowers on the bushes, no fruit would grow.  It's true for my life too.  I've often seen the Lord produce fruit through the difficult times and the hard circumstances. 

Isn't it just like the Lord to continue to teach me important things about Himself-- even through unexpected things like a small sign taped to a counter at a blueberry farm?  

A Week of Pictures- Day 2: The Window Herb-Garden

I have a sunny kitchen window that has almost no window sill.  I have always wanted to grow herbs in that window, but I never knew how to accomplish it.  Last spring, I started researching herb gardens and finally found what I was looking for-- an idea for a way to hang them in the window.

Paul grew the herbs from seed for me.  I saved coffee cans, wrapped them in some twine I found in the garage, and purchased two $3 tension rods.  I had some small chip-board letters that someone had given me, so Sarah and I made little tags for the cans.  We also used the letters to spell "Grow in Grace" in the middle of the rods.

I started out with dill, oregano, basil, and parsley.  The dill got really tall and went to seed recently, but the oregano, parsley, and basil are still going strong.  I think next year instead of dill, I'm going to try thyme!

A Week of Pictures- Day 1: Summer Sewing

I haven't posted pictures for awhile, so I thought I would recap some of the things we've done recently by posting a few pictures each day for the next week.  

I love to sew but don't get much time during the school year.  I am also still learning, so each new project is a good challenge to expand my skills.  Amazingly enough, I actually completed nine or ten projects this summer, although I don't have pictures of all of them.   Here are just a couple of the completed projects:

I needed pot holders, so I made some!
 (You know you've been married awhile when you cut up the raggedy towels that were once a plush wedding gift and use them as insulation in pot holders.)  Life is just too short not to have a set of red polka-dotty pot holders, right?

This is a bag I made for a birthday gift, and with a few modifications, it turned out to be completely reversible.
 It was a new pattern for me, but it is a keeper!  I love the black and white.

Here you can see a bit of the inside with a big pocket!

If you have worked on developing a skill, I'd love to hear about it!  As one dear friend said to me once, "God is the Creator, and because we are made in His image, He made us with the innate desire to create."

That's something I'll probably continue to ponder for the rest of my life...

Julia Child I am Not

It was a rough week in our household.  We seemed to be attacked from all directions, and I am very thankful that it is Friday!

To top it all off, I had some particular cooking struggles this week.  Lest anyone should ever get the mistaken impression that I have it all together, let me set the record straight!

To begin with, I'm not a connoisseur of the culinary arts.  Cooking is a task that I gladly do to care for my family, but it's not a love of mine-- mainly because I hate cleaning up the mess from a large cooking project.  We've also struggled with food allergies, so that wipes out roughly 67.4538% of all recipes.  I enjoy some new recipes from time to time, but I am not a chef at heart.   What I make for my family is fairly simple and usually fills up the tummy-- or should I say, six tummies.

Anyway, the following is a recap of our incredible unusual dinners this week.

Monday-- Menu:  beef rice-a-roni, loaf of Italian bread, and salad.  Reality: the boxes of beef rice-a-roni turned out to be chicken rice-a-roni, which I didn't realize until I had browned the ground beef and was ready to dump in the seasonings.  We ended up having the delectable strange combination of taco meat with tortillas, chicken rice-a-roni with no chicken in it, a loaf of Italian bread, and salad.  (I rescued the browned ground beef with a packet of taco seasoning thanks to Josiah's suggestion.)

Tuesday- really rough day.  Menu: hamburgers on the grill with chips and veggies.  Reality:  The beef wasn't thawed, so I put it in water to speed up the process not realizing that there was a hole in the plastic.  Soggy, smushy, water-logged ground beef met me an hour later, and after sobbing at the kitchen sink, I was lovingly rescued by my husband who took us on a surprise ride to get dinner out instead.

Wednesday- Menu: Spaghetti with meat sauce and salad.  I'm still wondering what happened to the other jar of sauce that I am sure was in the cupboard.  Instead of having meat with our sauce, we had sauce with our meat (over noodles that were two different varieties).  The homemade garlic bread would have been great too-- if I hadn't run out of butter.  No Italian cooking TV gigs for me anytime soon.

Thursday- Menu: Chicken and dumplings.  This one actually made it to the table.  I'm not sure, but the sauce may have been slightly scorched when I was trying to start laundry while cooking dinner.  I don't always multi-task very well, but once in awhile we need clean undies and socks to go with our chicken and dumplings.

So what's for dinner tonight?

Paul is cooking.  Grilling, I think.  Maybe hamburgers, but I haven't gone anywhere near the fridge to see.  I don't want to jinx it.

Julia Child I most definitely am not.

Reflections On Two Years With Only One Car...

One bright, sunny Saturday in June of 2010, we had a terrible car accident.  A girl pulled out in front of our van just as we went through a green light, and we had no time to stop before we broad-sided her.  Our van was totaled, but thankfully, none of us were seriously injured.

In order to purchase a new van, we decided to sell Paul's car and share one vehicle.  We figured that if we could even make it six months, it would be a big financial help.  At the time, I knew I was going to be the one to give up the use of the van most of the time, but Paul's flexible schedule meant that I could probably use it if I needed it.

The down-side was that the kids and I were unable to do many things that we wanted to do.  I just simply couldn't get them to sports leagues, ballet classes, and other activities.

I kept telling myself that I could make it for six months, but then the months turned into years, and I confess that I started to resent the situation.  Paul did everything he could to make sure I had a vehicle when I really needed it, but realistically, he needed to work.

Then last winter, the Lord began showing me that my resentment had turned into outright bitterness.  I would go to band concerts and other events for family or friends and then cry all the way home because our kids couldn't do those things.  I felt trapped and angry.

As the Lord convicted my heart about this awful sin of discontentment and anger, He also began showing me all that He had actually given us by taking our second car.  I began to see the ways He had blessed our family by drastically simplifying our life and schedule.

For example, sometime in the last two years I re-discovered that I love to ride my bike.  As soon as Isaac was off training wheels, we spent many afternoons riding all over our neighborhood.  We even watched the Lord miraculously provide bike locks this last summer, so we spent quite a few afternoons biking to the pool!

I also realized that we have read hundreds of books in the last two years.  If I had been out running around my town from activity to activity, we wouldn't have spent nearly as much time in the magical places we visited in our books.  An unexpected benefit of all the reading we've done is that all of my kids are now voracious readers themselves. This summer I was literally stunned to hear myself say, "You may not read for the rest of the day.  Please go play."  Who would have ever imagined that being homebound would play a huge part in their love of reading?

We've played countless board games and tromped through the woods.  (I have never loved nature like I do now.)  We've collected leaves and made muffins.  Oh, how I cherish those times-- happy times spent at home with my kids, enjoying their company, teaching them about botany and astronomy, and spending hours with Johnny Tremain and the Swiss Family Robinson.  I'm pretty sure I would have missed out on many of these things, because I have always struggled with being intentional about how I spend my time with them.

One other thing the Lord showed me is how much I had been over-committed outside of my home.  By taking away my vehicle, he also took away my ability to be too busy with other activities and commitments.  To be painfully honest, I'm not sure I would have learned such a lesson otherwise.  Those other things weren't wrong in themselves, but it was painful to realize that my husband, children, and home needed more of my undivided attention than they were getting.  Maybe it took a car accident and the loss of a vehicle to teach me a little about redeeming the time with this family-blessing that God has given me.

As we approached this fall, it was obvious that we were going to need a second car.  There were just too many schedule conflicts to share the one car anymore, so Paul leased a vehicle two weeks ago.

It has been an eye-opening change.  I made the funny realization this morning that my van isn't magically filling up with gas every so often.  The "ding" and gas light on the dashboard startled me!  I think I can count on one hand the times I put gas in the van in the last two years.

I'm now able to go where I want when I want, and to be honest, it's a bit of a wistful change.  Paul and I were forced to communicate and work together to share the one vehicle, and I hope we don't lose that.  I also hope I don't forget the lessons God taught me about my own heart and priorities.

My bike is still in the garage next to five other bikes, and there are some lovely fall days ahead.  If you can't reach me, I'm probably out tromping through the woods or riding on the bumpy path through the neighborhood golf course.  I have a mile-long list of books to read to the kids, and the blueberries we picked this summer are in the freezer waiting for their grand moment in a muffin.

Maybe the final lesson I learned here is that sometimes God is actually giving us gifts when it seems like He is taking something away.  In the end, He took away not just a vehicle and over-committed schedule, but my ensuing discontentment and anger as well.  He replaced it with the good gift of being less attached to things and more like His dear Son.

And that, my dear friends, has turned out to be worth far more than a vehicle ever could have been.

More than the Sand

Ps. 139: 17, 18-- "How precious to me are Your thoughts, O God!  How vast is the sum of them!  If I would count them, they are more than the sand.  I awake, and I am still with You.


Psalm 139: 17, 18

I woke up heavy today,
Like the rain clouds in the dark morning sky.
A feeling of uncertainty, concern;
What is it I've forgotten?
The same way I awaken so many mornings,
Cares of the world so soon on my mind.

Can a waking be sweet? serene?
I can't shake that rain-cloud
heaviness that
floods
           in
                just
                       as
                             I
                                wake.


Lord, this is the day that You have made.
So I will awaken
                             and
                                      rejoice!
For Your thoughts to me are precious,
More than the sand on the shore.
I awake!
And I am still with You.

Today's Yesterday

School schedules, doctor appointments, homeschool groups, church activities, bills arriving in the mail.

The nightly check of the calendar for the next day-- (What to do tomorrow?)

The nightly check of the bank account-- (What is due tomorrow?)

The voice of God that echoes as my mind jumps ahead to worry about things that haven't even happened yet--

"Take no thought for tomorrow..."

"Take no thought for tomorrow..."

"Take no thought for tomorrow..."
Matthew 6:34

For the "tomorrow" of two days ago, is today's "yesterday". 

And God was there.

"And lo, I am with you always." Matthew 28:20

Old Jewelry, New Priorities

When a girl sells old jewelry that now holds little sentimental value for her (despite the fact that it once meant a great deal)...

When she happily decides to use the money for the last payment on an appliance...

She once again realizes how much her priorities have changed.   (Or is it really how much God has changed her priorities?)

For while she knows there's nothing wrong with enjoying beautiful things like jewelry, she realizes that holding on to things that don't mean much causes life to mean less in the long run.  As days and homes are clogged with stuff, the things that are true priorities-- like husbands, children, friendships, and a growing relationship with God-- often get buried in the energy-zapping, never-ending, maintenance-demanding piles.

Grace upon grace upon grace, leading us along, giving us new minds and hearts...

...and priorities.

Silly Saturday- The Kitchen Chalkboard

About three weeks ago, Paul helped me paint the kitchen a lovely gold color.  Shortly after I put back up my cute, shabby-chic chalkboard on the freshly painted wall, I came around the corner to find this:

Paul must have been giving the boys a tutorial on flag football plays.

Look out, Better Homes and Gardens.   We have Gold Buff paint accessorized with deep red curtains, a white framed chalkboard, and the final perfect decorating touch just in time for fall-- a quarterback running to the right.

If George Muller Registered His Kids for Band...

What would George Muller, the great hero of the faith, do if he had a 12-year-old boy who had begged for many years to play the tuba? (Of course, it had only now recently become a possibility since you have to be bigger than the tuba to play the tuba.)

He would pray as he registered that boy and his homeschooled siblings for a homeschool band.

He would pray on "new-family orientation night" as the band director talked to the boy and gently listened to his 12-year-old dreams.  He would pray as that wise band director encouraged the boy to start on a baritone instead-- it's smaller, a little easier to lug around, but still makes the transition to a tuba a great possibility down the road.

He would pray as he found out that a good, used baritone is anywhere from $600-$2000 to purchase  or $70 a month to rent. (Gulp.)  He might ask that boy if he's interested in the triangle instead, but he would smile when that boy said he'd really like to play the baritone.

He would search craigslist and Ebay, call music stores, and gather information in order to make a wise decision, but he'd still pray to the One who created music and brass and notes and songs-- pray that somewhere out there might be a baritone for a young boy, knowing all the while that the Great Giver of Music could provide one instrument among all the thousands of instruments.

And then he'd watch God provide a baritone to borrow for the year, one that's already owned by the band, one that's providentially not being used currently, one that will cost only a miniscule amount for the whole year instead of $70 a month.

Then he'd fall to his knees with tears of thankfulness, and he would get on his blog to tell his dear friends that nothing is too hard for the Lord-- that God has provided miraculously yet again.

Yes, that is what George Muller might do, if he had lived in the age of blogs and craigslist and homeschool band.  But prayer?  That transcends all technology and the information age.  The God of George Muller is my God and hears my prayers, even for things like instruments.

Once again, this great man of God who believed in the power of prayer and trusted in the unfailing provision of an Almighty Father reached down through the centuries to instruct and cheer on a mama who needed a baritone...

... for a 12-year old boy desperate to play the tuba one day.

Just this morning, He brought one that my son can use this year for just a small fee!  What a provision and answer to prayer!

May this boy and his newly-borrowed baritone ring out with low notes of highest praise.

Great Giver of Music, thank You.

Summer and Winter and Springtime and Harvest...

Everyone who reads this blog on a regular basis knows that I absolutely love summertime.  I love the sunshine, warm weather, relaxed schedule, extra playtime with the kids, and extra time for doing things that I can't do in the school year (like sew and read).  I'm most definitely a summer girl.

I have found over the years, though, that this love of summer produces a certain amount of dread and anxiety as fall and winter approach.  The days will be shorter, the sunshine won't be out as much, the schedule picks back up, and the responsibilities get heavier.  This year has been no exception.

Ah, but isn't it like the Lord to come in and bring truth in unexpected ways.  He spoke to my heart a couple of weeks ago to the point where I find myself anticipating the coming of fall like I never have before.  This may seem like a small thing, but it is a big hurdle in my own life and attitude.

I was at a prayer breakfast for homeschooling moms, and we sang a few songs together including "Great is Thy Faithfulness".  I have sung that hymn hundreds, maybe thousands of times.  We even sang it at our wedding.  I would say it is a personal favorite, but one verse popped out like it never has before.

"Summer and winter and springtime and harvest,

Sun, moon, and stars in their courses above,

Join with all nature in manifold witness,

To Thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love."

As I was singing, it hit me...

Summer and harvest both proclaim the faithfulness of God.

Summer AND harvest AND winter?

And not just proclaim, but join with ALL nature.  I had to let it sink in for a few minutes.

Could even my beloved summertime flowers, gardens, and sunshine be joined by leaves, cold weather, and snow in proclaiming the goodness of my God?  And joined in manifold witness?

Manifold.  Many fold.

                    A thousand-fold?

                                         A million-fold?

Manifold.

Witness to what?

To Thy GREAT faithfulness.

And enduring mercy.

And everlasting love.

To most people, this may not seem like much of a realization, and it's something I've known mentally for a long time, but what about my fickle, frail heart?  It's not always so quick to follow the truth that I know in my head.  I don't notice the "joining in manifold witness" as quickly as I notice the shorter days, cold weather, dead grass, and gray sky.

The truth that changes the looming drab into a buffet of anticipation and color is knowing that I'm heading into an autumn where God IS and where He will most definitely be praised.

How like my Lord to sing His truth over me once again-- to redirect my heart and mind to His glory in every time, every season, every change.

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided...

...even when the thing needed is the grace-filled truth that helps a summer girl say hello to autumn.

Great is Thy faithfulness...
 again,
 and again,
 and again.

Checking In Quickly

I apologize for my long silence.  We were just getting settled in after our eventful camping trip when we received the word that Paul's Uncle Ed went to be with Christ last Tuesday morning.  After weighing the options, we decided to travel as a family to Myrtle Beach for the funeral.  The kids knew Ed and loved him very much, and we were flexible enough in our schedule to be able to drive down together.

We left last Thursday and just arrived home again last night.  I think we spent more than 32 hours in the van in the last several days, but it was a good trip.  The kids are amazing travelers, and I don't think I heard a single complaint the whole time (although Paul's "Car Bingo" helped us pass many hours as we searched for all of those easy-to-find items like a West Coast license plate and a dinosaur)!

I'm extremely glad we all went down.  Despite the sad reason for a reunion, funerals have the effect of bringing many family members together in one place.  Along with spending time with Ed's wife (Paul's Aunt Linda), we saw two of Paul's uncles, another aunt, two cousins, and all of Paul's siblings.  We also had the opportunity to love on Paul's mom and dad for a few days.

Ed's favorite song was Michael Card's "Immanuel", and it was my privilege to play that song along with other favorite hymns and songs at his funeral.  He has been quite ill for many years although his death was still unexpected.  I think we are all rejoicing that he is no longer struggling physically.

The Lord was gracious to us on our long drive.  We have literally driven thousands and thousands of miles over the last thirteen years and have never once had a mechanical difficulty with a vehicle.  About four hours into this trip, a sensor in the van went out, and we ended up at a dealership somewhere along our route.  Two hours later we were back on the road with a new sensor that was covered under our warranty.  (We were less than 2,000 miles away from the end of the warranty when the sensor went out.)  Praise be to God for protecting us and allowing the problem to be fixed quickly.

Now we are back home settling in again.  Since we were in Myrtle Beach, we did take the kids to the beach on Saturday, and we made a couple of trips to the pool where Paul's parents live (more x's on the bucket list!).   I'll try to post some pictures in the next few days-- as soon as I figure out our new camera.  (Our old camera never did recover from the shock of the canoe incident!)

So on we plod, being reminded again that life is fragile and fleeting.  We don't know much, but we do know that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.  Ed's healing is finally complete, and for that, I am very thankful.

Thunderstorms, Tents, and The Capsizing of a Canoe

After a very full few days, we are back home from our camping trip!  I'm pleased to report that we returned with all of our children, all of our belongings, and most of our sanity. (Well, we probably returned with as much sanity as we left with, but that's a different post!)

All in all, we had a fantastic time!  We picked Josiah up from summer camp on our way, and it was so wonderful to be back together again out in God's creation.

Other than the obligatory mosquito bites and campfire smell, our trip was uneventful-- unless you count a torrential thunderstorm our first night and the capsizing of one of our rented canoes the second afternoon.  If you count those things, it was a grand adventure that our kids will never forget.

I've never experienced a thunderstorm from inside a tent before.  A few of the thunderclaps were so loud that they caused us all to pitch to the floor.  Then we would sit up and laugh hard when the rumbling stopped.  I don't know if we laughed to send the fear scurrying or if we laughed to keep embarrassment at bay.  Either way, we would scream and laugh, talk about making a run for the van, and then decide to just stay put as another torrent of rain came pouring forth from the heavens.

The skies cleared up just in time for us to build a fire for marshmallow-roasting before bed.

On the second morning, the owner of the campground took the kids out into the river for "Kayaking 101".  They did really well learning to paddle and steer a little boat-- something that helped immensely a few hours later.

Our plan that day was to rent two canoes (the place we stayed is a campground and a canoeing/kayaking outfitter) and canoe down a river through a national wildlife refuge.  The trip was supposed to take 4 1/2 hours and cover about 16 river miles.  We planned to stop for some bird-watching and snacks along the way.  It was still very cloudy, but the guy that put us in the water said that the sun was supposed to come out later that afternoon.

Everything started out well.  I was in one canoe with Josiah and Isaac, and Paul was in the other with Micah and Sarah.  Other than a few mishaps canoeing into trees, getting stuck on some fallen logs, and knocking spiders out of the trees into the canoe, we were moving along just fine.  (Who knew that one treachery of canoeing is spiders falling out of trees when you bump into said trees? Eek!)

About an hour into the trip, I had just gotten stuck on some fallen logs when Josiah, who was in the front of my canoe, looked behind us and yelled, "They're in the water.  The other canoe is upside down!"

At that particular spot, the river was narrow and full of rocks and downed trees.  Paul, Micah, and Sarah had gotten dumped over when the current knocked them into a large tree branch.  When I turned around, I could see that Paul was struggling hard to keep the large canoe from sinking while the twins were floating through the water trying to catch our belongings and a lost paddle.  Praise God that the water wasn't very deep or fast in that spot and we were all wearing life vests.  Providentially, because I was stuck and my canoe wouldn't budge, I wasn't struggling to stay nearby.  I had the twins swim over to me, we retrieved our things as they floated past, and then they climbed up onto a log and got into our boat, shivering and crying.  Meanwhile, Paul was still trying to get the canoe turned back over.  When he finally did, it was full of water.

After about 30 minutes of tipping the canoe to get the water out, bailing out the rest of the water with a cut-off water bottle (it takes awhile when you're bailing 12 oz. at a time), calming the twins down, and discovering that everything in our fancy "stay-dry" bag was soaking wet (including the extra clothes and our cameras), we were finally underway again.  A few hundred yards down-river, we found the lost paddle caught on some more downed trees.  I had prayed specifically that God would stop that paddle somewhere so we could find it, and He answered that prayer with another log!

At that point, we had many miles and several hours to go to meet up with the van that would take us back to the campground.  I found myself in knots most of the rest of the afternoon.  Paul kept trying to remind me how blessed we were and how God had taken care of us, but my mama-heart was anxious every time either canoe got stuck or looked like it might tip even slightly.  We got the twins paddling right away to warm them up, and a couple hours later, the sun finally came out.

Eventually the river widened, the going was much easier, and the kids (and the mama) began to enjoy the trip.  They were such troopers-- all four of them paddling most of the way.  About five hours after setting out, we arrived at the pick-up point to meet our ride.  Aside from sore muscles (and Josiah declaring that his "blisters had blisters" from all of the paddling), we were all in one piece.

God really protected us that day.  Our only casualty was our camera, although thankfully everything on the memory card is likely still there-- (hence the reason there are no pictures of our camping trip yet).  I'm going to be reflecting on that canoe trip for a long time-- the providence of my getting stuck just before the other boat capsized, the shallow water, the hard work Paul did righting and bailing out the other canoe--all while standing chest-deep in the water.  I'm also going to be pondering how it helped when the sun came out, the obstacles and twists and turns of the river, and the spiritual parallels to the experience of those in the canoe farther ahead yelling instructions to those behind them on the journey-- "Stay to the right up here.  Be careful in this spot!"

Compared to that adventure, the rest of our trip was truly uneventful.  We had a great evening by the campfire (I loved learning about cooking over a fire), we all slept hard, and we arrived home late the next day.

I'm certain that there are many more camping adventures in our future.  The kids are now officially hooked!  I think Paul and I had the chance to remember how much we enjoy taking trips like this.  We decided long ago that we would always try to give our kids experiences, not things.  God was good to give us a safe, albeit adventure-filled few days, and I'm thankful for the chance to get away from the hustle and bustle of our everyday life.

So a few more items have been crossed off the summer bucket list, and memories were made that will last a lifetime.  I guess the only thing I can add is this:

God is very good...

To protect His children...

To give us the opportunity to make memories together...

To allow us to experience the beauty of his creation and the majesty of His thunder...

and

To bring us back home again after teaching us many things about Himself.

The Two-Person Tent

Almost thirteen years ago, Paul and I were given a two-person tent for a wedding gift.  We both enjoy camping, and we had registered for a tent and sleeping bags thinking we would have great times going up into the mountains of Colorado on little weekend excursions.

When we came home from our honeymoon, I started back into my teaching job, and Paul started a law practice.  Six months later, we found out we were pregnant with our first baby.  As it turned out, we never used that little tent before Paul went into the Army and we moved away from Colorado.

Fast-forward thirteen years.

In the years since we were given that little tent, God gave us four kids in less than five years, and we had nine different addresses in five different states (I still struggle to remember my zip code-- seriously.).   Somewhere along the line, the kids used the tent as a play structure a few times, and then it got ruined in our last move.  Sadly, we never went camping in it.

Next week we will celebrate our thirteenth anniversary, and how will we celebrate?

We're taking the kids camping for the first time.

Instead of breakfast in bed, it will be bacon over a campfire.  Instead of lazy days in a romantic resort, we will spend a day on a lazy river in two rented canoes.

And I couldn't be happier.  Or feel more blessed.

Because with the "for better or for worse" (and we've had our fair share of both in the last thirteen years), came the blessings of a family and a love that hangs on tight through the good and the bad-- precious gifts from an Almighty God Who loves us with an everlasting love and holds us in the palm of His hand.

I can't think of a better place to tell God "thank you" than sitting beside a campfire in His woods in the early morning with my family sound asleep...

...in our new 8-person tent.

When God Speaks Through a Bird's Nest...

Several weeks ago, I was sitting in the family room reflecting on a conversation with my sister in which she said she believes that each room in a house needs three things: something growing, something from nature, and something from the ocean.  As I looked at the room, I realized that while I already had a plant and had set out some of my favorite seashells, there was nothing from nature.

I didn't grow up loving nature like I do now, but in recent years the Lord has given me a deep love of the outdoors and the beautiful paintbrush that is expertly wielded by His Almighty hand.  I have to ponder-- Can you love the Creator without also coming to love His sovereign omnipotence so marvelously displayed in all things from the tiniest seed to the largest mountain?

In the midst of my ponderings,  I was suddenly inspired to begin my quest for something from nature to put on our large mantel.  I was still testing different arrangements and objects when Paul came in from outside and surveyed my progress.

"What I'd really like to have up there is a real bird's nest," I commented to that man that I love so well.  

"But... really," I had to ask myself, "How often do you come across an abandoned nest?"  I figured I'd just wait and keep my eyes open, and maybe someday I would find one. 

A few days later, Sarah and I decided to take a leisurely walk on a Sunday afternoon.  At one point, she looked over at a large tree and exclaimed, "Mama, look at this!"  On the ground underneath the tree was an empty little nest.  

I stood there absolutely amazed.  Could God have heard and fulfilled even my tiny longing for a bird's nest?

We brought it home, cleaned it out, zipped it up in a bag, and put it in the freezer for a few days in case there were any mites.  Now it sits on the mantel with a picture of a bird tucked up in the top.

I have spent much of the last several months poring over Matthew 6 almost every morning, finding promises that carry me through hard days, uncertain days.  As I've run to the Word, I've also looked out the window and watched the birds flit around the yard in the early morning sunshine.

"Look at the birds of the air, " Christ says to my fearful heart.

  "They neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns,

and yet your Heavenly Father feeds them.

  Are you not of more value than they?"

Matthew 6:26

A few chapters later, He says,

"Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?

 And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.

  But even the hairs of your head are numbered. 

 Fear not, therefore;

 you are of more value than many sparrows."

Matthew 10: 29-31

I know He hears all of the little prayers and longings of each of our hearts, yet in the grand scheme of life, hard times, famines, wars, and other giant issues we face, a bird's nest for my mantel seems so tiny.

But is it really?

Day after day, night after night-- that nest sits on my mantel, and I think of these verses...

And His promises...

And my own fears that go flitting away as He says, "Look at the birds of the air..."

Can God really speak through a bird's nest?

Absolutely.

On turning 40...

I celebrated my 40th birthday a couple of weeks ago.

I was blessed with a wonderful day surrounded by my husband, children, and precious in-laws.  They showered me with love and kisses and fun presents like a watering can, flip-flops, and a bracelet that grows over time as beads and memories slide onto the silver band.

So what do I think of 40?  I think I have plenty of wiry, gray hair beginning to appear on my head.  Those creases around my mouth and eyes?  I think they're here to stay.

More than anything, though, I have now lived long enough to know that I don't really KNOW much at all.

But I know this...

"O God, from my youth

 you have taught me,

 and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds.

So even to old age and gray hairs,

 O God,

 do not forsake me,

 until I proclaim your might to another generation,

 your power to all those to come."

Ps. 71: 17, 18

The Summer Bucket List

I've always been fascinated by the people that make these "bucket lists" of the things they want to do before they "kick the bucket".  The lists usually go something like this:

1.  Go on an African safari
2.  Climb Mount Kilimanjaro
3.  Ride to the top of the Eiffel Tower
4.  Read War and Peace
5.  Sing at the Sydney Opera House
6.  Read every Dr. Seuss book 5 times

(Well, I'm not so sure about that last one, but it sounds like a worthy goal, right?)

Anyway, I saw a great post on another blog about a mom that makes a Summer Bucket List with her kids every summer.  Imagine the thought-- a fantastical, dream-filled list of everything they want to try to do before summer kicks the bucket!  I thought that sounded like a great way to soak up the summer and redeem the time (not to mention eliminating the mournful conversation I always have with Paul in September that starts with "Where in the world did summer go and what in the world did we do?")

I was tremendously inspired by this idea, so I sat my little gaggle of blessings down and said, "Family, what should we try to accomplish this summer?"

We now have a big chart on the fridge of all the fun things we'd like to do-- play dates with buddies, berry picking, making pickles, going to visit Great-Grandma on the other side of the state, mom/dad/kid dates, bike rides, having some families over for dinner, and a whole host of other exciting things.  Most of them are very low cost, although two trips to Cold Stone Creamery and a family trip to a Detroit Tigers game managed to sneak their way onto the list.  We'll see how much we can actually accomplish by Labor Day when the bookshelves, pencils, and textbooks begin calling to us and we have to drag our sun-tanned faces back to the table for very "non-bucket-list" things like math facts and very non-exciting, handwritten essays about exotic places like Mount Kilimanjaro and the Eiffel Tower.

So now I'm sending out e-mails, setting up play dates, looking for fun places to visit on day trips, and heading off to our neighborhood pool with four little sunscreen-smelling, goggle-wearing, towel-wrapped people.  It has been fun to see the kids cross things off and anticipate each thing we get to do-- no matter how small or simple.  They're loving being intentional about how we spend our summer.  It has also been a good exercise for this mama that struggles with a tendency toward all work and no play. I'm learning to work hard at finding things that will build up the joy in our family as we play together.  That is most definitely a lesson I need to learn.  Maybe that's why God in His providence caused me to stumble across that other blog post.

It will be interesting to see the list at the end of the summer.  The kids put "Pool" on the chart 30 times.

Literally.

As of tonight, it's 3 down and 27 to go.

Oh, yeah, and just in case you're wondering-- I don't have a bucket list, but I did read War and Peace cover to cover once (emphasis on once) and sang with a music group at the Sydney Opera House.  I'm not sure, but I would be willing to bet big bucks that I've read every Dr. Seuss book at least 5 times to at least one of four tiny people.  As for Mount Kilimanjaro and the Eiffel Tower, I guess I'll have to be content with those exotic, er... interesting, handwritten essays.

For now, though...

...Sunscreen, here we come!

Gardens and Grace- Consider The Lilies

Consider the lilies of the field...

...how they grow...

...they neither toil nor spin...

...Yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these...

...But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?

Therefore, do not be anxious...

Matthew 6: 28-30