Romans 15:13

Romans 15:13-- May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.

God of all hope,
Do this for me--
Fill me with joy
In uncertainty.

God of all hope,
Grant this to me--
Peace where the road
I cannot see.

In valley deep
My heart is lost,
Fearful, frail,
By harsh wind tossed.

And looking round,
The way concealed.
No path is seen,
No end revealed.

So looking up
My only trust--
Great God of hope,
See You, I must.

God, You alone
Make me abound
In hope
When there's no way around.

God of all hope,
Do this for me--
Give joy and peace
And victory.

He Giveth More Grace

The text of the following hymn has been with me for many weeks now, playing over and over in my thoughts and heart.  Somehow, the Lord lets the needle on the record player of my mind get stuck at,  "He giveth and giveth and giveth and giveth and giveth..."

Maybe that by itself is part of the giving.

He Giveth More Grace
By Annie Johnson Flint

He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase,
To added affliction He addeth His mercy,
To multiplied trials His multiplied peace.

His love has no limit; His grace has no measure.
His pow'r has no boundary known unto men.
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus,
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again!

When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,
Our Father's full giving is only begun.

His love has no limit; His grace has no measure.

His pow'r has no boundary known unto men.

For out of His infinite riches in Jesus,

He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again!

Much to Say, Nothing to Say

I haven't meant to be gone so long.

I think about this little thinking-and-writing spot of mine so often.

Yet, on some days, I have much to say and nothing to say-- all at the same time.  Sometimes the "much to say" is uttered in breathless, care-filled prayer to the Lord-- a groaning and sighing more than a speaking.  Sometimes the "nothing to say" is because I think that there's not much excitement in writing about our little trivialities of living and learning.  These are hard, uncertain days for our family, and it seems that right now in particular, life is more just plodding than anything-- one muddy footprint following another, with few grand adventures or great epiphanies to report.  The days are cold and gray, my garden is asleep, and I am inside tending the child-garden with the tools of grammar, science, math and Chinese checkers.

Oswald Chambers says, "Discipleship is built entirely on the supernatural grace of God...We do not need the grace of God to withstand crises-- human nature and pride are sufficient for us to face the stress and strain magnificently.  But it does require the supernatural grace of God to live twenty-four hours of every day as a saint, going through drudgery, and living and ordinary, unnoticed, and ignored existence as a disciple of Jesus.  It is ingrained in us that we have to do exceptional things for God-- but we do not.  We have to be exceptional in the ordinary things of life, and holy on the ordinary streets, among ordinary people-- and this is not learned in five minutes."

I love that quote.  I drink deep from it often and am reminded that being sanctified is a life-long process, not a quick sprint.

That line of muddy footprints... they're mine.

By His grace, we'll keep plodding.

Back to the Blog

It's been a few weeks since I've had the chance to add to this little blog of mine.  Between Christmas concerts, Christmas preparation, finishing up school, church activities, family activities, and a trip to Minnesota to see my sister and her family, I haven't had a lot of sit-down time to think out loud and write about life.  Today we finally started getting back into a regular routine.  I feel like the theme of my day is "back to school, back to schedules, and back to the blog"!

So here I sit, almost a month after my last post, reflecting on the busy weeks and the work of God in the life of our family.  Exactly a year ago today I brought Paul home from the hospital after the surgery in which the doctors removed a perforated portion of his colon.  What a life-changing start to 2012.  I am overwhelmed with thanksgiving to ponder the grace that has been poured out on our family this last year as God has healed his body, provided for us, and brought us past those terrible digestive episodes that were such a part of our daily existence for more than 2 1/2 years before the surgery.  Praise be to God for His healing of my husband and His miraculous provision for our family.  The last year was a time of immeasurable growth in all of us, but sometimes it was so raw that it was hard to find the right words to express it here.

As we move into 2013, I plan to be here at my blog as often as possible, reflecting on the things God is teaching me and the ways that God continues to be active in this family with whom I share my days.  I never want to portray our life as picture perfect, because it's far from it, but instead I want to be honest through the work in progress-- each of us falling on the grace of God at every turn for help as we venture through this life.  We are a real family with real messes, real dust, real laundry piles, real days where we just want to give up, real fears, real joys, real blessings, and above all, a real God who carries us on this journey heavenward.  We don't plod alone, and along the way, I'm learning a bit about finding the sweetness, even on hard days.  I hope you'll join me as we adventure on through the months ahead!

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...