Three years

It's been three years since I've been here. I stopped writing here on purpose but now I'm ready to be back, writing bits and pieces to keep a record of our family life.

There's no way to recap three years, nor would I want to. Some things are the same: living and working in the same spots, traditions for holidays and family time and such, homeschooling the kids, et cetera.

Some things are not the same. Billy and I, we've GROWN. In every sense of the word. Grown in confidence, in perspective, through facing hard things head on and letting them change us to become change-influencers in our worlds.

Our family, it's grown too! The biggest change of all is that we added sweet baby N last July through the astonishingly God-touched process of his adoption. We are in relationship with his birthmom (blessing to us all). My hands were the first to touch his body as I got to deliver him and immediately start skin-to-skin and breastfeeding. It's a one-in-a-million story really (babies are miracles, aren't they?). With adoption, we realize that there is a wound in him that he doesn't realize yet. Someday I know he'll have thousands of thoughts and emotions to sort. But today he's extremely loving, affectionate, and energetically happy. I'm soaking that in. Deep. And I pray that our love (and our family and community's big love) and eventually his Heavenly Father's love will lessen the hurt's influence. [I have tons of thoughts on adoption and I'm working those thoughts out experientially, through our story and others'. Sometimes I imagine those thoughts will get set into words here. And if we adopt again, that will grow my perspective too.]

So with this blog...I'm not trying to get a zillion readers or to write for anyone or anything in particular really. Just writing to chronicle. To remember God's faithfulness. To occasionally process out loud. To help my feeble memory in the future and to give my words a place to land.

It's nice to be back.

State fair

Ferris wheel, bumper cars, art, shaved ice, roller coasters, petting zoo, carousel, stunt show, animals on display, funnel cakes, friends, and family. For the third year (tradition!), we enjoyed ourselves to exhaustion at the state fair last week.

Isaiah 61, Luke 4, and me

Luke 4:14-21

And Jesus returned in the power of the Spirit to Galilee, and a report about him went out through all the surrounding country. And he taught in their synagogues, being glorified by all.

And he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up. And as was his custom, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, and he stood up to read. And the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written,

"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives
and recovering of sight to the blind,
to set at liberty those who are oppressed,
to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."

And he rolled up the scroll and gave it back to the attendant and sat down. And the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. And he began to say to them, "Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."


It's my understanding that because of the oral culture, and because the Jews often memorized huge amounts of their scriptures, quoting the beginning of a passage would immediately bring to each listener the memory of the entirety of the passage. So when Jesus began to quote Isaiah 61, each person in the synagogue would hear the rest of that passage in their mind. Incredibly, he claimed Isaiah 61 was written about him--and that it was fulfilled in him.

Isaiah 61

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
       because the LORD has anointed me
       to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
       to proclaim freedom for the captives,
       and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor,
       and the day of vengeance of our God;
to comfort all who mourn;
       and provide for those who grieve in Zion--
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
       instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
       instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
       instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
       a planting of the LORD
       for the display of his splendor.


Jesus transforms ashes, mourning, and despair into beauty, joy, and praise--for the display of his splendor. He has done it in millions of lives--including mine.

My eyes are slowly opening to some of the ways my ashes, mourning, and despair can be used "for the display of his splendor"--and then I can view these same bits of brokenness as beautiful, joyful reasons to praise.

So today I praise God for not only saving me, but for personally working each detail of my life into something beautiful.

Does he even care?

Hava lost Sweetie Pie (baby doll extraordinaire) at the end of our family trip in Mexico. A good cry is had over darling Sweetie Pie from time to time, even though it's been well over a year. Yesterday was one of those sorrowful moments for Hava.

Hava: "Mom, I asked Jesus to bring Sweetie Pie back to me."

Me: "Oh..." (not sure what to say because that would be a straight-up miracle).

Hava: "Even if I have to wait until the end of my life, I would like to have her back."

Me: "Do you think Jesus even cares about little girls?"

Hava looked me straight in the eye and said with total confidence, "Yes, He does care about me."

Me: "Oh, Hava, I'm so glad you know that for sure!"

Do you know that Jesus cares for you? That He cares about what you've lost and your private (even petty) sadness? 

Do you believe that He holds His own in His hands, and no one can snatch us away from Him? Not even ourselves!

Jesus knows Hava's deepest thoughts, needs, fears, and He knows her future.

He knows what is in her heart--and He alone can heal her wounds. I'm so glad she trusts His care!

Painting

There are downsides to homeschooling. For example...my house will never stay clean for more than 2 minutes at a time, and I am the only "bad guy" when it comes to undesirable schoolwork (except the principal, who does get called in from time to time). There are no subs. Some days, more things go wrong than go right.

But, other days are such lovely reminders of why we've chosen homeschooling for our life right now. Last week, the weather was gorgeous. We had a list of schoolwork to complete but the kids had acquired a cardboard box. It was already disassembled, ready for painting. The only thing on their "list" was painting the box. I could tell they wouldn't be able to think about anything else until this pressing need was taken care of. The sun was warm and the breeze was refreshing. So we took the paints onto the grass and took care of business. Schoolwork waited a bit. Patiently, it turns out. 

And my kids were so pleased to create, make a mess, and get a "yes" from Mom. I even sat still in the grass while they worked. To be present in their joy.

Running away from home

If only I could remember every funny, cute, and clever thing my children say. They crack me up every day...and often make me stop to think.

Today I wrote down Hava's reflections right after this little conversation:

(Hava was pensive; poring over the bedtime story book, showing the prodigal son running away from home on one side and him feeding pigs on the opposite side.)

Me: Hava, what are you thinking about?

Hava: Something on this page. What do you think it is?

Me: Pigs?

Hava: No.

Me: Running away from home?

Hava: Yes.

Me: Are you thinking about running away from home?

Hava: Yes. And I’m thinking about my father. (pause) No, not my father. Actually, yes, He is my Father.

Me: What do you mean?

Hava (tearing up): I ran away from my Father but then I decided to come home.

Me (trying not to grin): I’m so glad you decided to come home.

Hava: Me too.

Lately I’ve been reminded of the importance of study in the Christian’s life. Equally essential is to have the softness of a child’s heart who realizes that “I once was lost, but now I’m found. I once was blind, but now I see.”

M-O-M

David loves the letters on our fridge door. He's forgotten that they sing songs if you put them in the matching contraption. Sorting, naming, and rearranging are his favorite letter pastimes. Tonight, he searched through and found some random letters and announced they were M, O, M.

"M - O - M!  M - O - M!" he sang.

I asked, "What does M, O, M spell?" knowing he can spell the names of his family members.

"Jesus!" was his happy reply and he sped off to another activity.

He's right. I mean, he's wrong, but he's right.

I am the voice of Jesus to this child. This child who adamantly denies that he's ever done anything wrong. I am the hands of Jesus to this child. This child who used to be so "tough" and now cries and whines and just generally needs all of the time. I am the love of Jesus to this child. This child who is going to teach me more about mothering (I just know it) then my other two children combined. I am the truth of Jesus to this child. This child who is going to need plenty of correction, prayer, and caution from his parents.

Despite the fact that I don't always love mothering (for it is messy and inconvenient and exhausting every day), it is a high and holy calling.

A calling I asked for. And mourned when it was delayed with our miscarriage. And many times have grieved and mourned for friends when they cannot seem to achieve this sticky spiritual calling as they desire.

I sometimes suck at mothering. I've never actually considered listing my kids on craigslist but I have considered considering it. I usually forget that a house covered in completed puzzles and stacks of books and hundreds of cut-up paper projects and dirty shoes means my happy family lives here. I correct my kids too much and I don't smile at them as often as I should. I get moody and distracted when they're watching. Sadly, some days I'm portraying too much M - O - M and not so much Jesus.

But I'm growing. Trying to consider what agape love is and how it applies to mothering. Knowing that staying connected to the vine is the only way I can continue to grow and bear much fruit--fruit in their lives especially.


[P.S. Dads are just as important--or probably more important for displaying God to their children. My kids are blessed to have their Daddy!]

Then this would be our real life

Our resident theologian is also known for scribbling, screeching, and she's just beginning to read a few words. But boy, oh boy, that girl does put serious thought into every topic of discussion, each bit of 1st grade history she overhears, and every single story read to her.

I wish I had a recording of all her insights. Rarely, I run to write down what she's just told me. Tonight our dinner conversation went like this--in part--there's no way I could remember all of her verbal processing.

Hava:  It’s better to cry than die. Why?

Me:  Maybe because when you die it’s the end of your life. And if you cry, it’s not the end of your life.

Hava:   Dying isn’t the end of your life. After you die you have a new life in heaven.

Me:   That’s true. Heaven is like your real life.

Hava:   If Adam and Eve hadn’t sinned, then this would be our real life. (pause) What’s sin?

Me:  Doing or thinking or saying something different from what God wants.

Hava:  I asked God in my quiet time today to help me not do bad things anymore.

Me:   That’s a good prayer to pray.

I get this kind of talk all stinkin' day long, every day of the week. Her latest interest is making up poems and songs. Yesterday's song went "I love to adore, I love to adore, I love to adore Christ the Lord" and today's poem was "Put my little penny pack on my teeny tiny back" (interpretation is left to the audience, apparently).

Hava the five-year-old is quite a delight to get to know. I'm enjoying relating to her now that she is a big girl and really enjoying seeing the world unfold before her watchful eyes.

Growing

Hello, it's been a while and it's so nice to see you again. (-:

Yesterday, the kids went swimming for probably the last time this year. The water is cold. But they were happy to be splashing around!

While they swam, I got down on my hands and knees to see if I could find any blades of freshly planted winter grass. I did find a couple short blades...certainly not a lush lawn. I sighed and hoped we would have at least some soft grass for the kids to play in during our beautiful fall and winter months.

Today I awoke to find a yard full of green. While I slept, the lawn appeared. It's growing! Immediately I remembered a speaker from the homeschool convention who said "No one plants a lemon tree and looks for lemons two months later. Fruit trees take years to produce." I'm not growing lemons--and I'm only slightly interested in growing grass--but I am growing people. Sometimes I see buds on their trees. Other times, blossoms. And I'm confident fruit will ripen for harvest later. How helpful to remember that all my repetitive, sometimes tedious, never-ending work in my orchard will not produce fruit for today. No, the harvest will be enjoyed for many years to come if I care for my little people well today. And tomorrow.

When I get a whiff of fresh blossom scent, I'm hopeful. One day I'll wake up and see that while I was busy working and waiting, my children were developing under the surface. The Master Gardener is at work, if only I will work under His expert care myself and entrust my garden to His touch.

Spring 2012 recap

Hello summer! At least hello summer here in Phoenix--we're swimming and have ended all our school-year activities (not counting school itself). If it's not summer where you are, I'm sure the rain is just as nice as a refreshing swim.

The end of March was a momentous event that I can only hope you have had the privilege of attending--an Underwear Party!

We wore clothes.

But the party was all about little boy underwear, on a little boy who took a major step toward big boyhood.

Hooray!

There were gifts,

games,

marshmallow treats with chocolate,

and kids dancing in their underwear (not pictured, for your sake--and because I sometimes have creepers on the blog).

Then came Easter:

John had breakfast out with Dad to celebrate completing his first Awana Sparks book as well as the twenty-one review sections.

The first week of May we spent six relaxing days on a secluded beach with thirty family members to celebrate my grandparents' fiftieth wedding anniversary. (That's a lot of numbers!)

View from the back porch:

This... is Beach Olympics:

Sanfords + clan:

Us 5:

My mom and dad with their grandkids:

The adult siblings. We had so much fun together before, during, and after our trip!

Our family is so boring and rigid; why do we go on vacation with them??

Not!

I'm still feeling rejuvenated from our time away. I can't always say that after a vacation with small children but shelling, swimming, laughing, playing games, and going barefoot in the sand all week was amazing. Equally amazing was not cleaning, cooking, or driving anywhere. aaahhh...so wonderful!

Once home, we finished Awana with the Sprouts award night. I helped in the Sprouts class this year and although I liked every one of those thirty plus Sprouts, this one is my favorite:

And now, bring on Summer!

6.5

John is more than six and a half now...and such a classic six year old he is. He is still sweet and impressionable like a little kid but opinionated and thoughtful like a big kid. His favorite activity is still (for sure!) playing. All day. Every day. With whomever is willing to join him. He wears his poor dad out with building marble tracks, throwing darts, bike riding, games of tag, and requests for new coloring pages printed off the computer.

Homeschooling John has become more of a task (rather than just fun and games) as the novelty wears off, but he is progressing well. He's beginning to read and has a good grasp on the phonics concepts we've covered so far. He completed his Awana book early and will be finishing the book review by next week, earning himself a breakfast out with just Dad.

Oh yeah, Dad is popular around here.

I just cook the food.

But at least John truly appreciates good food. He is a rewarding guy to cook and bake for, with frequent exclamations of "oh yeah, I love this food!" and "Mom, this is soooo good" and "Thanks Mom for making this...it's my favorite!"

Watch out John, in a few years I'm going to make you my co-cook!

This incident at the library a few weeks ago still makes me smile:

We were at the library to play and John immediately raced over to a group of kids around his age. Seeing what they were doing, he fell in beside them naturally (kids are great at that!). Pretty soon, he questioned a boy about his age "What's your name? I'm John!"

The other boy said "I'm Mark."

John thought for half a second and then proudly exclaimed "Your name is in the Bible!"

um...that's when I felt awkward for John. The Bible?? I'm imagining Mark thinking. wrong.

Mark said, "And so is your name! Matthew, Mark, Luke and John! We're Mark and John!"

John and Mark wore very happy faces at the realization that they had both made it in the Bible.

And I bet that John still remembers Mark's name; he is good at remembering names and details from people's lives. That will definitely be an asset over the course of his life.

I'm so curious to see who John will be in ten or twenty years. I'm pretty sure he'll still be sensitive to others, that he'll always appreciate a tasty meal, and that he'll still feel a strong bond with his dad. Everything else is a mystery that I'm excited to experience alongside him.

I'm so thankful for John!


These pictures are random but fun ones of him:





I can see John as he'll look as an adult in this picture:



These next few are all with cousins (John is the oldest cousin on both sides of the family):






First roller coaster ride!