With Great Joy: children

Showing posts with label children. Show all posts

Questions Over Dinner

Over dinner tonight, Isaac (13), asked us all, "If you could choose your favorite thing to eat for each meal of the day, what would you choose?" So, in between bites of pizza (one of his favorites), each of us answered his question.

Ella mentioned that we should get out the jar of road-trip questions. (Before we took our family road trip, I typed out several questions, cut them into strips, folded them up and put them in a jar. A few times during our long days of driving we'd pass around the jar, everyone would pull out a question and we'd all take turns answering it.) We never made it through all the questions, so the jar has remained on our homeschool shelf since then, and it comes out upon request.

Here are the questions we covered last night:

What do you think is your greatest talent or ability?

If you are stranded on a deserted island, and you could choose one book to have with you, what would it be? (Also: movie? cd?)

If you were president, name three things that you would change about our country right away?

How do you think you'll know when you're "grown-up"?

If you won $100, what is the first thing you would buy?

Would you rather be a doctor or a teacher?

If you could ask God one question, what would it be?

They all loved answering these. The greatest talent or ability one was tough for some of them, but it was sweet to see how the other kids all chimed in to encourage their siblings with what they thought their talents were. I love my kids so much. We're having such a grand time during these middle years. They're my favorite people.

Blessings to you and yours today!

~Stacy

Decorating our tree all over again

Have you read the book Night Tree, by Eve Bunting? It's a sweet picture book about a family who heads out to the woods on Christmas Eve to find their tree, but not in the way you might think.

They find their tree and then decorate it, right there in the woods, with a popcorn garland, apples, tangerines, and balls of seeds and honey. They spread out a blanket and with cups of cocoa to warm them, they sing Christmas carols and wait for any woodland creatures to come upon their tree.

We took our tree down just a day after Christmas. The pine needles were falling off and Mark and I were ready for it to go, but our kids were disappointed. Audra, in particular, was sad to see all the ornaments and lights taken down and wanted to keep it decorated. It was then that she remembered the book above, which we'd recently read, and had the idea to decorate our tree all over again, but this time-- outside!

Mark stood our tree up in the garden and we set to work, stringing popcorn, and stringing dried apple slices and craisins, and we made our own seed balls by rolling apples in peanut butter and then in bird seed. And then we ran outside and quickly decorated the tree-- it was cold out there, and we were still in our jammies!-- and ran back inside to wait and watch from the windows.

It was the neighborhood squirrels who found our tree first, crunching into our popcorn with delight. Then, slowly came some Dark-eyed Juncos, and some Varied Thrushes, some House Sparrows and some Chickadees. A Robin eyed the whole affair from a nearby tree but decided against it. A Woodpecker flew overhead but didn't alight. It was such a fun little activity that I feel sure we'll do it again!

A Varied Thrush, interested in the popcorn the squirrels had tossed to the ground.

A Black-capped Chickadee, pecking at another seed ball we hung on another tree.

December happenings and some recommendations!

Hello sweet friends,

A few days ago Audra was wandering about, wondering what she could do, because "no one wants to play with me." She really is such a blessed little girl because so often she does have someone who will play with her, but when she doesn't, it's a bit rough for her.

Sometimes all she needs is an idea, though, of the possibilities, so I suggested that she read Christmas books to some of her dollies, and she countered with, "Or I could do school with them!" And then she was off, cheerily setting up her classroom and prepping her lessons. I was so delighted when I next walked through the living room that I snapped a few pictures:

This little scene reminded me of how I used to do the very same thing when I was a little girl, except that I had imaginary students (all with names and varying personalities, of course!) and I would just teach away in my little bedroom. Who would have thought that years later, I would actually be teaching, and no longer with invisible students in my little room, but my own children, in our little home?

What a gift. I am so grateful.

I have also been so tired. Several weeks ago, -- well, probably beginning right around this post, I was struggling. And then even when the PMS subsided, I just kept right on struggling, feeling overwhelmed and emotional and just... melancholy; like my usual joyful self was missing. I tried to define it in an email to some friends: For several weeks now, I have been feeling particularly weary and overwhelmed and sort of like my soul is parched. I have been asking Jesus to infuse life and breath into my spirit and delight into our school days. And the words God has put in my mind as I've prayed and talked it over with my husband are to CREATE and RELATE. I really feel like God is exhorting me to slow down and spend more time creating with the kids and on my own, and to take the time to relate and connect with them, specifically during our school days.

I think that in my efforts to organize and plan a smoothly-running school year for all five kids, from high school down to second grade, there are days where it can feel like all we're doing is checking off the lists of things to do, and the creative side of me feels starved.

Mark and I are still praying and asking God to reveal to us what it is that we could change or tweak in our schedule to make it less overwhelming, but for the past several weeks I have eased up on some of our schooling and have focused on creating and relating, and that has helped tremendously.

And then I've just been counting down the days to December, because we take the whole month of December off from school. I always have grand plans that we will bake things for all the neighbors and decorate cookies and do a whole month of advent, etc, etc, etc. But honestly? With family birthdays this month in addition to the Christmas festivities and events and traditions and all the gifts to purchase and wrap, what we mostly do is rest.

On Monday morning I went to the video store and I rented four movies for the kids to watch, as a way to kick off our Christmas break. This is huge to our kids because we don't have TV, and they get very little screen time. So it's a win for them and for me, because it buys me down time and I feel utterly guilt-free about that. ;)
Last night I did purchase this Advent Study from Stone Soup for Five which you can either purchase from Amazon in book form or as a PDF you can download and print (I did the latter), so today, six days into the month, we began that. I just reviewed the first six lessons at the breakfast table and we'll do what we can do in the next few weeks. What I love about it is that there is a coloring page per day, and my kids love coloring, so today we sat in the living room and while I read Christmas books and our current read-aloud, they got out the Prismacolor pencils and colored.

Oh, and I must recommend to you my favorite Christmas CD of the season. I am actually not a real fan of Christmas music. After so many years it sort of all sounds the same to me and I just don't love it. (UNLIKE Mark, who has 1200 Christmas songs on his iPod and announced the other day that he listened to 20 different versions of the same song. In one day. All in a row. *shudder* I cannot even.) But this CD? I LOVE. I've been listening to Christy Nockels' music since back in her Watermark days, and for the past couple of months I've been tuning in to her podcast, because I noticed that she was interviewing people like Ellie Holcomb, whom I love with all my heart. And Christy herself is such an encourager, and a wise woman who loves Jesus deeply, and so I newly love her. That's where I found out about her new Christmas album, and I ordered it. And I love it. You can and should purchase it HERE. I think you'll love it.

Children growing

Okay, I've had more than a few of you mention that it's been a long time since you've seen pictures of the kids and that they are so.grown.up.

Tell me about it.

I can't even handle it.

It makes my heart ache in spite of the fact that this is what is supposed to happen and we want for them to do this growing. So for this post: pictures and updates. :)

Let's just start with my beautiful Ella~

This morning in church there was a young couple sitting in front of us. They have one little girl. I thought of this mother and her sweet little girl and what their days must be like together. It really doesn't seem like it can be possible that it has been fourteen years since it was just the two of us, me and Ella, sharing our days while Mark was at work. We would sleep as long as we could, then lay on our backs and read books together. We chatted and played and did everything together, her and I. When Mark came home from work we'd be waiting at the window and she would squeal with delight at the sight of him. This morning I glanced down the row and let my eyes rest on my dear Ella girl for a moment. Those days are far behind us. Now she's nearly as tall as me. Truly. It sort of stuns me, actually-- how old she is and how fast this has all gone. I love her so.

Ella is always singing. She is cheerful, sweet, kind, thoughtful, responsible, prayerful, compassionate, encouraging and helpful. She has a great sense of humor. She loves all babies and little children. She loves to bake. She plays piano beautifully. She loves to read and is an excellent writer. She loves being outside. She knows so much about birds and flowers and seeds and plants. She loves to garden and tend all living things. She is creative and loves practicing her handwriting with me. :) She plays with and leads her younger siblings well. She loves God so much, and for that I am most thankful. She is a dear girl and has grown into a sweet friend of mine.

Then there's my Isaac, who is imaginative, creative, soft-spoken, thoughtful, thorough, brilliant, sensitive, kind and gentle boy. He is such an artist and he loves to figure things out. He likes to draw comics and writes stories and still astonishes us with his great LEGO creations. He is so inventive. He loves baseball and whittling with his knife and puzzles of all kinds. He is grateful and thoughtful. He is the first to offer to pray for me whenever I'm feeling sick or when he can tell that I am stressed. He will come up to me and say, "Mommy? Can I pray for you right now?" And proceed to lay his hand on me and pray fervently. He has a genuine faith and strong, quiet conviction. He reminds me so much of his daddy.

Isaias is eleven and my most helpful and hard-working child. Any time he sees me in the kitchen he comes in to ask if there's anything he can do to help. (That's SEVERAL times a day, mind you. I'm in the kitchen a lot.) He is goofy, playful, and teachable. He is all boy, and loves being outside and doing anything active. He likes to read, he likes animals, football, and he is a kind boy. He has grown so much in truthfulness and in his faith. He is physically strong and is growing such good spiritual muscles, too.

Adelia is my eight-year-old full of energy and questions. She is so social that she constantly wants to talk and know what's happening next and who's doing what and what did that person say and why can't I do/have this or that? She is always loudly bounding around the house trying to find someone who will play with her. She has a great sense of humor and keeps us all laughing. She loves snuggling up on the couch and being read to. She also loves the water, and would swim every single day if she could. She is generous and feisty and stubborn. She has grown so much in empathy and in recognizing when she's in the wrong, and is learning how to accept no and not to argue with mommy about every single thing. She is the one for whom I most often take to my knees in prayer for during this season of parenting, asking God to grant me wisdom, understanding, graciousness, and kindness rather than exasperation or anger. She is a delight, and I can't wait to see how God will use her strong personality for His glory.

Audra is seven and sweet. She is cuddly, sensitive, chatty and creative. She is our paper crafter. She always has some paper craft in process-- and we are all often stepping around her piles of paper scraps and tape (dollhouses made of cardboard and cardstock, whole life-sized creatures taped together with paper, board games, dolls and toys. You name it and she's made it with paper.) She loves to be outside, and is also a little nature lover. She holds my hand wherever we go and still tells me I'm the best mommy in the whole wide world. (She's also currently the smiliest for the camera!)

Settling into rest, and an update on Isaac

Hello, sweet friends!

How are you all today?

We are well. I actually came down with some weird virus Friday night, so I spent all of Saturday in bed, with a fever and achy body and migraine-like headaches. It was fairly awful, but with sickness also comes the kindnesses of my family: sweet get well cards from two of my girls, a kind son who comes up quietly, several times a day, and asks if he can pray for me, and then lays his hand on me and prays fervently. Another son who comes and asks if he can rub my neck for me. And my man, who took the day off to spend with the kids so that I could actually rest.

Sunday came and I felt slightly better, but we stayed home from church and ended up spending time in the yard and garden. It was so restful. Sunday night came, and it dawned on me that I didn't have any lesson planning to do. No weekly clipboard sheets to print out, no math lessons to assign, no new morning time material to find.

We are done for the year. (!)

Monday came, and again I marvelled at all that is now not on our plate. It's actually quite staggering, how much space is suddenly in our schedule. We had a lazy morning, did our chores, and headed to the library. We got stacks and stacks of books and came home, sat on the couch, and read a whole lot of them. It was so satisfying, not to feel like we had other things to get to, something else school-ish to do.

Mark asked how things went, our first Monday of no-school, and I made some remark about how the kids are probably a little unfamiliar with this more relaxed mama of theirs-- (she's more silly and more playful and fun). And I told him that it truly feels good to settle into only being mama, and to check out of my teacher role for a season.

Today the younger kids were getting restless. I suggested board games, but that wasn't a hit. The rain is coming down hard outside, watering our garden for us. I made three batches of playdough and pulled out all the cookie cutters, rolling pins, and knives. They've been at it now for more than an hour. At first they were all pretending they work in a bakery and they were fashioning all sorts of little cookies, pies and tarts, and calling me in every few minutes to show me their creations. Then they played "Chopped" (which they've seen all of two times), calling out a meal --I've overheard spaghetti, kabobs and hamburgers so far-- setting the timer, and then all working individually to make it. Then one of the kids- the preassigned judge, judges their entries. ;)

* * *

Isaac update: Last week I was becoming increasingly anxious about Isaac's health. He has been the same-- still making 4-5 trips to the bathroom every day, with an almost constant urge to go. He still has mucous and blood intermittently. His throat still feels "snotty". He spends nearly 30 minutes in the bathroom each time, so we're talking HOURS out of his day are spent in the bathroom. This has been going on for more than four months. He's tired of it, and has been increasingly discouraged (hence my increasing anxiety).

I pressed in to the Lord again, asking what we should do for him. I keep asking God to lead us, to direct us to answers regarding his health. We don't know what is going on with him, but God-- Creator of his body-- does. I keep asking that God would reveal it to us and impart His perfect wisdom to us. And I keep asking God to heal him, and continue to entrust him to God.

We feel like we've given it ample time to work it's way out of his system, whatever the elusive It is. I spent Friday afternoon on the phone again with Children's Hospital, talking to the nurse a few different times, talking to scheduling, trying to get another appointment with the gastroenterologist. They want us to drive to Seattle to get updated labs. (And--- they can't get us in for an appointment until the end of August.) I also researched a naturopath here in town that could do food allergy testing for him.

On Saturday evening Isaac told me that he'd only gone to the bathroom ONCE. ONE TIME. And it was "normal". (So... not diarrhea.) You guys! My jaw dropped open. This is startling, considering these past several months. I was floored, and just thankful even for this one day of rest for his body, for this one day of reprieve.

On Sunday, he did not go AT ALL. Not once. He told me and I shook my head, in total wonder at what God has done. I don't know if He has healed him or if He is just giving his body rest (both of which we've prayed for), but either way, I am SO thankful.

Monday, he went again, ONCE. He said it was normal, just like it was "before all this started."

I don't have an update yet for today, but I am so incredibly grateful for even these three days of rest for his body; for God's goodness and for His temporary (if not permanent) healing.

Thank you for your faithful prayers, dear friends.

Today: Meals and School

This morning I was up early-- our days go so much better when I am-- and exercised, had a quiet time, and showered. The girls were arguing because one daughter (lets call her Daughter 1) wanted the little pink shorts for her doll that were being worn by my other daughter's (Daughter 2) doll. So of course Daughter 1 just took them off and began putting them on her doll. I instructed her to give the shorts back-- don't take-- and instructed my other girls to please try to find Daughter 1 something she would be happy having her dolly wear. Then, after that pronouncement and mid-way through my shower, I re-thought that, remembering the verse "It is more blessed to give than to receive" and wondered if I shouldn't have gone the other way and instructed Daughter 2 to just let her have them. Aagh. I don't know. By the time I was out of the shower, Daughter 2 had shared half her doll clothes with Daughter 1 and they were both happy (and Daughter 1 had apologized for taking them), so I guess they worked it out. I went and commended Daughter 2 for sharing and told her of the verse I'd thought of in the shower; and how happy I was that she had been generous.

Then I went to prep dinner. We're having Peruvian Chicken tonight. Chicken with paprika, cumin, lemons and garlic cloves, with sweet potatoes. Sounds good, right? Anyway, I had to cut up a whole chicken, which I'm not sure I've ever done before. Generally I buy them whole and go this route. As I was cutting into the chicken with my very dull knife, I was muttering about how it's no wonder people don't usually do this, and it might be the very last time I do. Sheesh. Thank you, butchers everywhere.

Photo from the cookbook Meals Made Simple, p 116: Peruvian-Style Chicken

(If we like this recipe-- it's a new one; we'll see-- I already plan to revise it and do the whole thing in the crock pot next time around. I just like to try to follow instructions the first time.) Anyhow, all those pieces of chicken are currently marinating in a bag in the fridge and it looks to be delicious.

We gathered at the table for breakfast at around 9:15, and the kids ate leftover Rhubarb Pound Cake (sans some lemon zest, and with yogurt and cream cheese and sour cream (in place of *just* the sour cream)), because that's how I roll. (In that I use what we have on hand, and we were low on sour cream but had some yogurt, but low on yogurt but have cream cheese.) It was scrumptious. And they had leftover egg casserole, too.

my oft-used recipe for Rhubarb Pound Cake

Then we started morning time. We read from the Bible-- about Jehoahaz and Jehoiakim and Jeremiah this morning, read Proverb 16, sang four verses of the hymn There is a Fountain, read our poems (Bilbo's Walking Song and The Cow), and prayed together.

This morning's prayer list:
-Abby's theater performance and upcoming surgery
-our friends who are on a road trip
-another friend who is struggling with several auto-immune diseases and who is going on a strict diet beginning today
-for our Compassion child in Ecuador, her and her family's safety because of the recent earthquake,
-for the presidential election-- (my two littlest girls praying fervently for God to soften the hearts of those running; for them to follow Him.)
-for the refugees

We moved into the living room and did picture study-- our second from Jean-Baptiste Camille Corot, where Ella described the painting to the others, who listened, then asked questions. Then they all got to look and comment. (While Ella was describing, I was in the kitchen making my breakfast, then I ate it while they were all looking at the painting.)

Then I read-aloud from Peter Duck (#3 in the Swallows & Amazons series) while the kids drew or colored or played quietly.

Mark stopped in for coffee as I was reading aloud, and the kids headed outside shortly afterward for outside time. After seeing Mark out and making myself a latte, I started writing this post. And smelling these lovely peonies from the garden that adorn our table:

I called the kids in after about half-hour, and Isaac asked if he could stay outside because he was working on something. He's been whittling with his knife. [Update: Wow! He just came in and showed me what he made! I'm impressed.]

Isaac's knife, carved from a stick. He just needs to sand the blade to smooth it some more.

The rest of the kids are indoors now and working independently from the list on their clipboards-- math and history and cursive and such things. I'm amazed I haven't been interrupted twelve times, but alas, I haven't. So I'll get to publish this post and then make the rounds and check in on everyone, then maybe respond to some emails and clean the kitchen and then it will be time for lunch.

I hope you're all having a wonderful day!

Eight.

I used to be really faithful about writing birthday letters to my kids. And then I stopped. I am trying to get back into the habit mostly because my kids treasure the letters I have written. I have them all in a book and they will pull them out and read them and are so delighted to read of the younger versions of themselves and their siblings. So I begin again.

My dearest Adelia,

The story of you coming into our lives is one I treasure, because it almost didn't happen. I was so afraid of all the what-ifs, and I had to take time to allow the truths of God's word to sink into my soul and chase away all my fears. And He did, and we said yes. And we brought home a failure-to-thrive baby that was you. It would be another six months before you were officially adopted, but from the moment you were here, in our home and in our arms, you were ours. Our hearts pretty nearly ached for all the love we had for you.

You were so tiny. (We used to give you your baths in the bathroom sink; that's how tiny you were!) The label failure-to-thrive that was given you at birth now astounds me when I think of it. Because, my girl: you positively thrive. You are full of life and passion and will and sass and oh, you are funny. You have so much to say and so.many.questions. You ask questions every two minutes. You are noisy. There is nothing quiet about you. You do everything fully and loudly and with zeal. You are generous. You are friendly with every single person you meet. You are the socialite of our whole family. You are impulsive and you are strong and you are brave. I see all of that in you, every single day, and I think of the grace of God who has fashioned you so; who took the tiny little you and flourished her into your eight-year-old self and all that you are. He is so good.

(And this is the part you may want to skip over for the next few years, at least. You'll think it's b-o-r-i-n-g. ;) But it belongs here.) I have learned so much about being your mama. I have learned that behind your tough exterior you hide your insecurities. And behind your stubbornness is a need for grace and kindness. God has patiently instructed me over and over in regard to you that kindness leads to repentance. You respond well to silliness; to tickles and a gentle chiding of humor to smooth your furrowed brow. You won't often initiate affection, but you need it and you want it. You like your back scratched and me to pull you onto my lap and hug you and pull you beside me on the couch and read to you. (You will grab my arm and try to tuck it around you-- which sometimes makes the turning of the pages difficult, but we work it out-- and you want the blanket over us, no matter what the season.) I have also learned more practical ways of being your mama. I have researched and learned (thank you, internet) how to take care of your curls and your beautiful brown skin. There is so much I don't know and it is often a challenge but it is a part of the story of us, isn't it?

Eight. These are the things you love at eight years old: Tiger. (Our cat.) More often called Buddy from your mouth. I often tease you that you're more excited to see the cat than you are me-- or anyone else, for that matter-- in the mornings. ;)

You love being read to. I will agree to read to you-- one book, I'll say-- and you find the longest story on the shelf. And about twelve others. You are active, and like to do anything the boys do.

You have learned this year to sit and play independently, but never quietly. You are generally singing at the top of your lungs or yelling loudly as you play throughout quiet times.

You like playing Barbies, jumping on the trampoline, and pestering your siblings. (Ahem. The last of which we're working on, constantly.) You love drama and sometimes when things are mellow I think you like to go stir something up just to create some action. ;)

You love to swim, and when the sun is out, you will talk incessantly about swimming. (Nevermind that you don't actually know how to swim. Yet. No matter. You will learn because you love the water.)

You love to ride your bike but you'll groan if we're going for a walk or a hike because that's just not moving fast enough for you, I think. ;)

You always wish you are about ten years older than you are, because you think that with age comes a phone, a tablet, a computer, and keys to a car. (One of your favorite questions is, "When I'm ____ (fill in the blank with any age), will I get a phone?" You haven't yet figured out that the answer is always no. ;) Along all the gadgets you want at that magic age, you will also want all the trips to McDonalds you can squish in (ew!) and any movies you want to see, and swimming whenever you want. ;)

You LOVE sour cream. Sheesh, girl. We always have to watch you when there's sour cream on the table because you would pile it on and eat it all up! Sour cream is your love language. Well, that and jam. And burritos. Casa. And breads of any kind.

You are really good with numbers but have struggled to learn to read, and I know this is frustrating for you. I keep telling you that you will learn in your own time, and some things have come easily to you (learning to ride a bike, for instance, or chatting with anyone you meet) have been more challenging for your brothers and sisters. In the meantime, we'll keep reading to you and eventually you'll get there and will forget there was a day when you didn't know how. :) You like school because you want to do what "the big kids" are doing, but you like short lessons and need lots of assistance to keep you on task, because you're easily distracted and will often get up and go do something else.

You love to be "in the know" and want to be the first one to know what we're having for dinner (so that you can announce it to everyone else), or where we're going (so that you can inform everyone).

You revere your older brother Isaac and you love trying to make all the other kids laugh. You also know how to laugh at yourself, which is a gift in itself.

My prayers for you are for a tender heart; one that is responsive to our instruction and to the ways of God, and for kindness. I also pray that God will hone your passion, your strength and will to be used mightily for His purposes.

You are a delight, my girl. Beautiful and abounding with life.

Happy birthday to you,
Love, your mama

Stories

My Audra (6), will often ask: "Mommy, will you tell me the story of the girl and the boy who prayed and prayed and prayed for a baby and then God gave them one? And then God gave them more babies? Can you tell that story, mommy?"

It's her favorite story.

A few mornings ago, she tucked herself into bed with me to snuggle and chat. Her head was nestled on my shoulder and we'd been talking for awhile when she asked for the story. I was reluctant at first, wanting instead to get into the shower, but I agreed. And I began as one should always begin stories, with once upon a time....

Once upon a time, there was a girl and a boy who loved each other so much that they got married. After they'd been married awhile, they wished for a baby, but no baby came. Many months and even years passed, and still there was no baby. So they prayed and prayed and prayed and waited and waited and waited and they kept praying and they kept waiting, and then finally, one beautiful day, God answered. And when the girl discovered she was pregnant, she immediately ran out to her car to go find her husband at work. (She didn't even grab her coat, though it was a very rainy day.) She saw the boy she loved and she ran up to him, and with the rain pouring down on both of them, she told him he was going to be a daddy....

And so the story goes, from my first pregnancy, to the next, to our first adoption, to the next adoption, all the way to six years ago when God gave us the gift of her, my dear Audra. As we get closer and closer to her little self entering the story, her eyes are eager with anticipation and her smile gets wider. Sometimes I add in more details, sometimes more description, but the outline of the story remains the same. The older kids love this story, too, and they will often tag on details they know and each of them love it when it's their time to enter the story.

As I'd been talking, all cozy under the covers with my Audra, Ella had joined us, and there I was, sandwiched in between my oldest and my youngest. The girls giggled when I first slipped and said "daddy" (as I always do) and then we came to Audra's entrance into the world, and I talked a little about her birth and our delight and then said, "And that's the end of the story."

Immediately I realized that it wasn't, actually, the end of the story, and so, haltingly, and through tears, I went on. "Actually, that's not the end of the story, is it? After we had Audra, we continued to pray and long for another baby, and-- years later-- we found out that God had made another little baby, growing inside of me. And then our baby died. And six months later, He again began to grow a baby within me, and that baby died, too.

...That's kind of a sad ending to the story, isn't it?" Ella squeezed me and agreed it was. And Audra said something about being sad that the babies died. And in an effort to give the girls a happy ending, I said I was so thankful for them, and that I loved being their mommy and that I am so richly blessed that God has given them to me. When they had started chatting about other things, I slipped away to the shower, and there I wept.

* * *

My heart is hurting. Around me everywhere is the hustle and bustle of this holiday season, celebrations, parties and smiles; songs and lights and the joy and the anticipation.

And I'm a pretty good pretender. I am smiling, I am showing up for the celebrations, but right beneath the surface is the grief; the lump at the back of my throat and the sorrow that sits in such sharp contrast to the joy of this season.

Yesterday I spoke with a dear friend on the phone, and when she asked me how she could pray for me, I thought of the two choices before me: I could give her a "surface request", and tell her to pray for our health and rest in the midst of what will be a very busy week, or I could go deeper, and tell the truth. So I went there, and with my telling came my tears, and I sat on the edge of my bed, cradling the phone and weeping for the second day in a row.

It was two years ago, in early December, when Mark and I told our kids that a new baby brother or sister was growing in mommy's tummy. We were near-to-bursting with the news we had kept to ourselves for several weeks, treasuring it and speaking of it in hushed tones when it was just the two of us, marveling at this answer to prayer. There aren't words to describe how happy our kids were. We talked and planned and dreamed and celebrated together for a few precious weeks.

Then on Christmas Day, 2013, I was so sick I could barely sit up. We were at my mom's house-- there for our traditional Christmas breakfast which would be followed by the Christmas story, then songs, prayer, stockings and gifts. I tried to sit at the table to eat, but excused myself to the guest room to lie down. I had a high fever and chills all day. All I could do was sleep. I was so sick I didn't even care that I was missing out on all the fun. When my fever broke, and I was more coherent, I began fearing for the life of my baby; I worried about what this fever may have done. In early January we went for our ultrasound and there was no heartbeat. I don't know if it actually was the fever that instigated my miscarriage, but that is the day marked in my mind and heart as the beginning of the end of our baby's tiny life. Had our baby lived, we would be celebrating this Christmas with a little one, toddling around all the wrapping and presents, touching the ornaments and lights on the tree, pointing and jabbering and delighting us all.

However, that is not our story.

Before I hung up the phone yesterday, my friend encouraged me to journal and process this grief, and yes, even this year, two years later-- and not push it down and pretend it away. Good counsel, that.

Yet when I sat later with my journal open and pen in hand, I didn't even know what to pray, what to ask. So I prayed simply this: that He would sit with me in my sadness. And He does. And I am reminded of this truth: He is Immanuel, God with us. And therein is the happy ending to all sad stories.

There is a greater story. A story with angels and dreams and danger, twists and turns and surprises (a stable? Really?) A story that the prophets foretold, a story that opened here on earth with words, not on a page from a book like the stories we read- but from the mouth of an angel speaking to the young girl Mary. Then we turn the page in the story and find Joseph being visited by an angel in a dream. And we read of the instruction to name this baby Jesus. The story shifts and there is peril- the evil King Herod who wants the baby Jesus dead. Then the wise men who followed a star (a star!) to find the child Jesus and worshiped him, then were warned in a dream not to return to evil King Herod. The shepherds, listening to the settling down, nighttime noises of their flock of sheep, and peering up into a dark sky only to suddenly see that same sky alight with an angel- an angel! Can you imagine?- and one who was talking to them. How stunned they must have been. And then not just one angel but more of them? This is THE story. May we all be filled with the wonder of this story; of Light come into darkness, of Immanuel, God with us.

End of the Year Thoughts & A Garden Walk

This week stretches ahead of us with literally NOTHING on our calendar: just a whole string of days at home with no school, no evening engagements, no commitments whatsoever. [insert deep sigh of relief right here]

It's been a busy year.

The past few weeks people have been asking me and the kids, "Are you done with school yet?" (Yes, we were done early last week.) I kept thinking about it in terms of the *kids* being done with studies and school, and it being their summer break and how happy I am for them....

It took all of last week before I realized how much easier MY life is without the addition of schooling. All of a sudden I have no school-related questions coming at me from all five kids every day (Where is the pencil sharpener? Mommy, will you help me with this math problem? Where's the history book? Mommy, can I narrate to you? Mommy, can you look at this? Mommy, I need some more of these pages printed. Can you read this and see if I misspelled anything?) All those types of questions? Done. No stack of things to correct in the evenings, no lesson plans to come up with (just yet), no looking at the week ahead to see what we need to accomplish, no writing everything up on the dry erase board each day, no hands-on sitting through a dictation lesson or a kindergarten lesson or a math lesson. I am sort of stunned at how much is suddenly off my plate. I seriously feel like a full-time job has just ended.

For many mothers the end of the school year means they're suddenly ON: the kids are home, you have to keep them occupied for the hours a day they were previously in school. For a homeschooling mother? The end of the school year means rest. Blissful, much needed REST.

So happy summer break to ME! And my kids! :) And you and yours if you're summering with us.

Care to take a walk with me through our garden this morning?