Big shoulders....

It's been a tough week here on the homefront....  emotionally and physically draining.

Two with ear infections, one with a ruptured eardrum, all four with fevers, and now one with diarrhea..... and ...

my Mom being so sick with pneumonia back in Missouri.

(she's in ICU now, but I *hope* she'll be out soon)

I've run the gamut of fear, worry, guilt, frustration.... and in between....

should I be with my Mom?  should I be here with my children?  should I be in a loony bin?

It is in times like these that I find the emotional baggage of the past comes to haunt me.....

like a disparaging ghost to shroud my soul in a thick mist of confusion and angst.

I can't find my way.... what should I do..... what are my motivations?

A blogging friend of mine (who just happens to share my name) posted this video on Friday.
And like a breath blown from God himself.... the fog lifted and my way seemed clear.
I need to focus on the family God has given me.... to care for them... to put aside the debilitating worry and guilt and find my way so that I can lead my children, and be a good wife.
(My mom is in good hands... and if I'm needed, I will know.)
And to do this... I need Him to lead me.
.... I cannot do it on my own.... my shoulders are not broad enough to be everything to everyone...
....but His are....

And then... YouTube (as it is want to do) led me to this video....

Wow!  Gut punch. Forgiven.

I'm glad He has big shoulders.

****Regardless of your personal beliefs... these videos have amazing videography.****

The images, colors, settings, and photographs spoke to me as a photographer....

I watched the videos over and over again just for the beautiful images, not just the words.

I hope they bless you as well.

(I have a new favorite group to listen to now, thanks to Wendy!)

Fall Crocus

A taste of spring...in the fall

Lavender and honey...

a tantalizing mix of sweet and savory...

...arms lifted in praise to the One..

..the Maker of beauty...

Fall crocuses are...

new life in the midst of detritus...

a lesson in patience and rebirth...

a precious gift.

A Child's Faith

Does God care about the little things in our lives?

(I used to have no questions, no doubts.... then I grew up and the logical grown-up part of myself took over....)

Is He there to answer our dinky little prayers.... or only the BIG stuff?

(I had come to believe not... I know, I know...."Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father knowing it? But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows." I know.... but the sparrows still die.... and where is He? )

My child-like faith has been jaded, faded, and torn.... I rely on myself and my own bootstraps too often.

But lately, my doubting grown-up eyes have been slowly pried open by the faith of generations around me.... my children and my parents.... tiny prayers sent heavenward... about tiny, minuscule problems...

(tiny in the whole scheme of life)

Tiny prayers about balers not starting and lost contacts..... does God really care about such things?

(I know, I know.... I still have my doubts....but the evidence is convincing to my scientifically trained mind...
but can it be reproduced? quantified? qualified?)

Or is it only quantified and qualified in the joyful faces of the believers?

Joyful faces amazed by God's presence and ready aid when the tiny things in life need help.
Simple belief.

How refreshing.

Won't you join me today in the refreshment with Darcy and Emily?

He Is Risen

(This is one of my favorite Easter songs -- I have many -- probably more than Christmas songs. Yes, I love Christmas and all that it stands for -- but Easter is very special to me. Afterall, it didn't take much to be born for sinful mankind -- but it took EVERYTHING to die for sinful mankind. My gratefulness cannot be measured.)

Was it a morning like this
When the Son still hid from Jerusalem?
And Mary rose from her bed
To tend the Lord She thought was dead

What is a morning like this,
When Mary walked down from Jerusalem?
And two angels stood at the tomb,
Bearers of news she would hear soon.

Did the grass sing?
Did the earth rejoice
To feel you again?
Over and over like a
Trumpet underground,
Did the earth seem to pound:
“He is risen”

over and over
in a never ending round
“He is risen, alleluia, alleluia!”

Was it an morning like this,
When Peter and John from Jerusalem?
And as they raced for the tomb,
Beneath their feet was there a tune?

Was it a morning like this,
When my Lord looked out
On Jerusalem?
He is risen, alleluia, alleluia.

(by Sandi Patty)

Renewal

Spring is a season of hope......
of life.......
of renewal.......
of brilliant green......

Thoughts of death and life seem quite normal this weekend.....
reflecting on the death and resurrection of our Saviour.....
our eternal hope....
our sacrifice.....
our purpose on this green earth renewed.....
our lives made anew.....

May the contemplations of this Easter weekend renew you and give you hope.

The Heavens Declare

I was reliving last spring..... looking at pictures of my flowers...... dreaming of the spring to come. I found this picture (taken with my old camera) of a spring storm rolling in fast. It was a pretty violent one, but short lived -- I think Pullman got the brunt of it. The colors were so vivid, and the clouds all bumpy and churning. Sort of reminded me of storms that brought tornadoes back in Missouri.

This was last night.
Whenever I see a beautiful sunset, I think of this verse:

"The heavens declare the glory of God;

the skies proclaim the work of his hands."
Psalm 19:1 (NIV)

Mary Did You Know?

I remember the first time I heard this song ...... I was literally crying .... the song is so beautiful. Now that I have children of my own, I am even more moved ..... thinking of how it must have been for Mary. What an awesome responsibility. What an awesome privilege to hold the Son of God and Son of Man .... in your womb, and in your arms.

Mary did you know that your baby boy will one day walk on water?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will save our sons and daughters?
Did you know that your baby boy has come to make you new?
This child that you've delivered, will soon deliver you.

Mary did you know that your baby boy will give sight to a blind man?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will calm a storm with his hand?
Did you know that your baby boy has walked where angels trod?
And when you kiss your little baby, you have kissed the face of God.

The blind will see, the deaf will hear and the dead will live again.
The lame will leap, the dumb will speak, the praises of the lamb.

Mary did you know that your baby boy is Lord of all creation?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will one day rule the nations?
Did you know that your baby boy is heaven's perfect Lamb?
This sleeping child you're holding is the great I am.

To Dedicate

Dedicate: v. 1. to set apart and consecrate to a deity or to a sacred purpose. 2. to devote wholly and earnestly, as to some person or purpose. 3. to make a commitment, a pledge......

Last weekend at church, we dedicated our two youngest children, Walter and Winona, to the Lord. (Reid and Wyatt had been dedicated previously). It was a simple ceremony. Pastor Shires reminded us and the congregation of the stories of Hannah and of Abraham -- how each of them had longed for a child and had promised God that they would dedicate their children to the service of the Lord. And both Hannah and Abraham were called to make significant sacrifices when it came to their children --Hannah to give Samuel to God's service at a very young age, and Abraham to very nearly sacrifice his son to God. (Gulp. Truthfully, I hope God does not ask me to do either of these.)

We have committed to raise our children to love God and serve humankind. As we teach them daily, by example and instruction, we fail miserably daily. We need the help of God, our extended family, our church family, and our friends to support and encourage us with our endeavor.

Dear God,
Please give us the wisdom and strength to raise our children to be like You. Amen.

99 Balloons

Watch {99 Balloons} <---- click.

All I can say is WOW.

Grab some tissues.

Hug your babies.

Say a prayer of thanks.

For All These Many Blessings...

....I am thankful.

.....a lovely place to live

.....a healthy, happy boy

....a loving husband and a beautiful daughter

...boys content and at play.

Thank you Lord, for each day ~ for the hectic, kicking and screaming days, and the beautiful, snuggles and kisses days. Thank you for my family ~ each and everyone ~ near and far. Thank you for friends to share joy and sorrow, happiness and pain. But most of all, thank you for loving even me. Amen.

Jamie Remembrance

My friend Julie sent this to me after my 5 things... post yesterday. It is so sweet. I sure hope I get to see my Jamie again someday. How could God turn away a face like that?

In Celebration of Easter

Easter is my favorite Christian celebration. I will admit that when I was a kid, Christmas was probably #1, but as an adult, Easter means a lot more to me. Sure Christmas is important. It celebrates Jesus' birth. But without Jesus' death and resurrection, His birth would really be meaningless. Without His death and resurrection, we would have no hope for eternal life, no hope for an end to pain and suffering, no hope for a true understanding of love and selflessness.

I really like some of the old hymns about the Easter celebration. Here are a few verses from one written by Charles Wesley. I won't curdle your evening meal by singing it for you, so just imagine a beautiful choir singing.

And Can It Be

And can it be that I should gain,
An int'rest in the Savior's blood?
Died He for me, who caused His love,
For me, who Himself to death pursued?
Amazing love! How can it be?
That Thou, my God should die for me?

No condemnation now I dread,
Jesus, and all in Him is mine!
Alive in Him, my living Head.
And clothed in righteousness divine,
Bold I approach the eternal throne,
And claim the crown thro' Christ my own.

Amazing love! How can it be?
That Thou, my God, should die for me.

Meet Logan

My sister-in-law Cindy sent this to me. Maybe you've seen it before. I thought it corresponds nicely with my post on pain and suffering from last Saturday. Maybe we all, (myself included) need to just go back to the basics with our beliefs. Children seem to grasp the basics so much better than we adults do--no muddying of the faith. Careful now, you might need your Kleenex handy.

The Problem with Pain

I am going to play turtle and stick my neck out. Hopefully no one chops it off before I can retract again. I have been pondering this subject a lot in the light of Walter's burn, but it has been a struggling point with me most of my life. Why does God allow pain and suffering, especially of the innocent? What is the purpose, if any? Is this a question I should even be asking?

I was pondering all of this the other day as I was cleaning up one of my flower beds (it looks lots better by the way). I do some of my best thinking while pruning, weeding, and cleaning beds. After the last "Mom, can you find me another salamander?" went back inside the house, my mind began churning. Is there a purpose in all of this, or is it simply just what happened--no blame, no rhyme or reason--just life. Does God really care about each sparrow that falls? If so, why doesn't he keep it from falling? This is a slippery slope that I don't venture too close to the edge of very often. Of course the obvious answer is sin. But isn't God more powerful than the devil? I know all the pat answers, have heard them all my life, but they don't work for me anymore. Life on earth is too complex for pat answers.

I still don't have the answer. One of my friends, Vicki Broeckel wrote in a note to us, "We can't measure God's love by our circumstances--the cross is the measure of His love to us." I like it.

Sticking my neck back in my shell now.

Here is a picture of the salamander by the way.

Baby Steps

Do you remember the movie "What About Bob"? The story is about a psychiatrist and his multi-phobic patient, Bob. The psychiatrist is busy promoting his new book "Baby Steps" about how all things are manageable if you just take them one little baby step at a time. The upshot of the movie (sorry to spoil it for you if you haven't seen it) is that the psychiatrist and Bob end up switching places. The doctor goes insane and the patient goes to school to become a psychologist--all because of baby steps. It is a fun movie--good comic relief--but also true about so many things in life. "Baby Steps" would be very applicable here in our home today. Adjusting to home life is definitely going to take some baby steps on both Mom's and Walter's parts.

Walter is adjusting pretty well. For the first hour on the way home, Walter seemed so amazed to be out in the wide world. His big round eyes took in everything, he ate a Krispy Kreme donut, he smiled and smiled. Then he took a LONG nap. He slept in his own bed. He exchanged his E-rex pajamas for a well-loved sleeper. He ate granola for breakfast and put on normal clothes for the day. The next baby step for Walter is actual baby steps.

Mom, on the other hand, woke up this morning and immediately was overwhelmed. Almost one month of being away has really done a number on the living quarters. Winona is teething and quite fussy (for her), Walter needs lots of attending to, and there are piles and piles of laundry and mail and stuff, and flower beds that need uncovering. Baby steps, baby steps, baby steps.

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Dear God, Here is Wendy-- cashing in on your promise.

Pondering the Past and Present

Standing in the present next to Walter's crib, holding his hand and feeling his hair as I comb my fingers through. I hear Winona sucking on her binky as she falls asleep. I see Walter's gentle smile as he enjoys the physical attention. I smell the yummy tomato bisque soup from HMC cafeteria that is waiting for me to eat it (yes they do have some good food). I think back three weeks ago-- fear, turmoil, confusion, pain.

Sitting in the present as my fingers type my thoughts-- I am tired, relieved, scared, but mostly thankful. Thankful to a heavenly father that has allowed us this miracle. Things could have been so much worse. I am not of the belief that if you live a good life, follow God's rules, be as perfect as any person can be that you and your family will escape all sorrow and pain. There are too many good people that experience physical and mental pain for that to be true. I do not pretend to understand God and just exactly how much of each and every detail of every day that he directs. It is a mystery to me. So I am just thankful that I am sitting in a hospital while my little boy heals instead of mourning over a tiny gravestone.

I have found that all the painful things in my life, physical and emotional, have served one purpose: to make it so I can understand another person's pain--empathize. I hope Walter will feel the same way someday.

Wound Care 101

It's not very much fun for Walter or Mom and Dad. Luckily they have some good sedatives to help with anxiety and good pain meds. Although some of the skin is sloughing off, the tissue underneath is nice and pink. Yesterday right before I left to come home I got to help with the wound care and give Walter a bath at the same time. He was really sticky from all the medicine that he spit back out when it was forced into his mouth. I guess he is doing better today about just taking the medicine when it comes. He also walked 10 steps today! The first he has walked since Sunday. They have an excellent little therapy room for kids with a large fish tank full of tropical fish, big push carts, and lots of toys. He likes the colorful fish. He also likes all the ambulance sirens he hears day and night. He has to point out the window every time he hears one.

Here are some pictures of his wound yesterday.

We also got some good news today. The social worker came and talked to Randy this afternoon and said that since we are a "special case" they would make an exception for Winona to stay the night as long as they had a private room for Walter. Most of the time if someone called me a "special case" I might be offended! But this time I will take it and say "Thank you", and send up a prayer of thanks to our heavenly Father. So, life will be easier now. Thank you for all your prayers. I know God is listening and helping us.

Here is a picture of Walter resting with his ever present binkies and watching Dora--two of his favorites.

Confessions...

I am tired. I am tired of being the go to gal, the one-stop-shop, the laundry girl, the short-order cook, the nose and bum wiper, the source for all things unreachable. I won't even go into the house cleaning part because frankly, in that area I am severely lacking lately. I am ashamed to even think these words, much less write them. But in all honesty, they are still there. Most days I can push these thoughts away--ignore them, not even come close to thinking them. Then there are other days where I would give anything to have just 2 hours without any little voices clamoring or any tiny hands pulling (and not feel guilty for having those 2 hours).

I do love being a mother, I really do--honestly. I love the beautiful spontaneous smiles of my baby girl. I love the soft pats on my face from Walter's hands. I love the look of rapture on Wyatt's face when he has made a new discovery. I love to sit back and watch Reid think his way through a problem. I wouldn't trade my life for anything, anywhere. Becoming a mother has taught me a lot about sacrificing, putting myself last (not always successful at that one), choking down cutting remarks (not always very good at that one either), and begging God for more patience. But being a mother has also taught me a lot about love--unconditional, all-forgiving, even when you are dog tired love.

I have this cross-stitched poem on my desk--right next to my computer monitor. My mom had it when we were little and she handed it down to me before I even had children. I guess she knew I would need it!

Give me patience

when little hands

tug at me with

ceaseless small demands.

Give me gentle words

and smiling eyes

and keep my lips from

hasty sharp replies.

That when in years to come

my house is still beautiful,

memories it's rooms may fill.

~

Believe me, I need to read and apply it every day--sometimes more than once a day! I am sure "in years to come" I will wish for little clamoring voices and tiny hands pulling. But for now-- Dear God, please give me patience....

I Saw God Today

I've been to church, I've read the book,

I know He's here, but I don't look

Near as often as I should

Yeah, I know I should

His fingerprints are everywhere

I'd just slow down to stop and stare

Opened my eyes and man I swear

I saw God today.

I got my face pressed up against the nursery glass

She's sleeping like a rock

My name on her wrist,

Wearing tiny pink socks

She's got my nose, she's got her mama's eyes

My brand new baby girl

She's a miracle

I saw God today.

Although my baby girl is three months old today, I still love this song by George Strait. Every baby is a miracle, a gift from God. How could any mother think otherwise once she felt her baby move inside her womb? Once she held her baby and looked into it's eyes, felt the tiny fingers curl around her own? I believe there is no way to explain the wonders of a new human life without the touch of God. Too wondrous, too awesome, too beautiful for words.... I saw God today.