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The Lord is my Shepherd. He has provided.
I bask in the wholeness of my family, drinking up my sons and finding in each a unique and intoxicating bouquet. Again I smell, kiss, envelop the child for whom I've trembled. He grows so strong, snuggled in his garments, the tightly-knitted prayers of a multitude. His laughter is a resounding praise to the Architect of galaxies and dragonfly wings.

I exhale into a pillow of His calm refuge. I feel warm rays of relief seep into the window of my soul.
I search my heart for the will and wisdom to teach my treasured ones Your love, for it is all that matters.

I have crawled to the edge of a ravine so fearful and desolate, at which my eyes plead to never again glimpse. Yet, when collapsed on my knees in helpless petition, how much closer I am to You. Your rod has steadfastly conquered lions. Your staff gently nudges me to safety. I am secure in Your stronghold.

I am blessed beyond measure. May I not fail to seize an opportunity to fill another's cup.

Holding hands, my husband and I take humbled, hopeful and passionately prayerful steps, guiding three precious little ones toward manhood. We rejoice that You will persue us with Your love, every breath of our lives, for we are but ignorantly wandering lambs. May we five relentlessly look to You always.

A Tour of Thanks

Happy Thanksgiving!  I wish you all a day of good health, happiness and fellowship. I feel so blessed for the people in my life.  My husband is the most loving, dedicated man I could ever dream of.  He is my best friend, team mate and life partner.  My children bring me unsurpassable joy.  It's hard not to wonder what I lived for before them. My parents just celebrated their 33rd anniversary.  They are so in love and have made love and life together look so easy.  Through example, dedication and sacrifice, they provide (even still) all I need to succeed in God's family. My brother, sister, and I are the best of friends. They are a continual joy and inspiration to me. My husband's parents are the most amazing people, too. Whether it's advising on a recipe or hopping in the car to drive 600 miles to help with the kids, they frequently drop everything to come to our rescue. They love me as one of their own. Sadly, for almost 6 years now, we've had hundreds of miles between us and the nearest family. It has been so hard. We have been blessed, though, to have friends and a church that have embraced us with both arms and have loved us through the lonely times.

I thank my God every time I remember you. Philippians 1:3 NIV

Being our own little 'island' family has been a challenge.  We are both very family oriented, and it's very important to us to that our kids know their family.  We've all worked hard to arrange visits in one state or the other, and occasional video chats.  Somehow, we've kept up a frequency of contact that our little guys are able to remember their grandparents, great-grandfather, aunts & uncles.  Some facet of the distance has been good for us, too.  It has helped us establish our identity as a family and has forced us to develop our own traditions and problem-solving skills.

The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song. Psalm 28:7 NIV

We've had to get creative sometimes with our meals, and Brian has an uncanny ability to withdraw toothpaste from an 'empty' tube.  It seems like just when we don't know how the next bill will be covered, God provides. A gift. An unexpected refund. A raise. It never adds up with human math.

Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to his disciples to set before the people. He also divided the two fish among them all. Mark 6:41 NIV

I woke up this morning, full of joy.  &;A rich aroma filled the air.  I knew my dear husband had slipped out of bed early to start the turkey.  I tried to sneak out of bed, but by the time I had my sweats on, I heard a little voice inquire, "Mommy...?" I saw little Isaac's eyes peeping out of the sheet.  I crawled back under the covers and he whips a calculator out from somewhere and declares, "Button!" We share some giggles and he flashes me smiles that make my heart melt. I look over at Ian, my little sleeping prince, and it hits me that somewhere between two and three, my first baby became a little boy. He looks so grown. What beautiful, amazing little baby men.

Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever. 1 Chronicles 16:34 NIV

Isaac and I make our way to the kitchen. Brian not only has the turkey cooking, but our favorite loaf of yogurt bread is baking and he has breakfast ready. What a man, what a man! He never ceases to impress me. I can't imagine feeling more loved and appreciated. He seems to never tire of service to his family and God. I feel like I have more to be thankful for than I can express or ever deserve.

Now, our God, we give you thanks, and praise your glorious name. 1 Chronicles 29:13 NIV

Most of all, I feel thankful for the unending mercy and grace I receive. I mess up every. single. day. I want to be eternally patient and calm with my boys, but I blow it. A lot. I want to be a shining Christian example to them of love and respect, but I blow it. I want to be a cheerful, pulled-together, always-have-dinner-ready wife, but I blow it. I want to spend time every day reading my Bible, praying for my family and living what I believe, but I blow that too. On all accounts I am forgiven. Graciously, perpetually forgiven.

While they were eating, Jesus took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to his disciples, saying, "Take it; this is my body." Then he took the cup, gave thanks and offered it to them, and they all drank from it. Mark 14:22-23 NIV

What a day to celebrate! It seems amid all the struggles and disappointments, there is always an abundance of blessings for which I express my deepest gratitude.

Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift! 2 Corinthians 9:15 NIV

Happy Thanksgiving!

Here we go a waffling

Today has been a fairly typical day.  I wake up to Isaac's sweet voice on my right, going "broom broom BROOM!" I crack an eyelid, wondering as I do every morning in our blacked-out room, to what time they let me sleep.  Isaac is propped up on a pillow driving a monster truck.

A few moments later, Ian animates and sits up with an enthusiastic "Good morning, mom!", followed by "Is baby making more milk?"  He stopped breast-feeding at about two and a half, rather reluctantly, due to my first trimester discomfort and rapidly diminishing milk supply.  I explained that my body stopped making milk for a little while and was busy building a baby brother, but when baby comes out, my body will make lots more milk. Since then, he's been my milk sentry, making sure baby doesn't leave his post at the milk churn.  

Ian next inquired, "Where's my flashlight?"  I ease open a second eyelid and grunt into a sitting position.  I look down to the floor and see the flashlight among some other toys.  "It's on the floor, being guarded by the Christmas dog."  Ian peers down, giggling, "Well, that's kinda really funny", retrieves his torch and sets off to scare some monsters.

I turn the fans off and the lights on and start gathering the day's clothes.  Isaac swings open a dresser door, says "bye bye" and closes himself up as best as he can.  The glazed-over red-faced expression heralds my next duty.

Ian drags his potty to its position in front of the TV.  I put on GPB, set the sleep timer and head off to make breakfast.  I make a somewhat Mickey Mouse configuration of waffles and sausage and in the midst of peanut butter-ing, I hear Isaac cry.  I mentally triage the situation and determine it's not a pain cry, but more one of annoyance.  Ian's usually pretty well locked-in when the TV goes on, so chances are it was self-inflicted.  I keep spreading.  He keeps crying.  I set down the knife and head toward the bawling.  Ian shuffles out of the bedroom, bound at the ankles by his pants, to tell me "Igick is crying."  That's because "Igick"  is trapped in the bathroom, not yet able to operate a door handle.  Unlike his older brother who was sitting two feet away and able to muster the effort to waddle all the way to the living room, but not....oh, nevermind.  I free Isaac and offer my sympathy.

Ian announces his potty accomplishments, and I take them to be flushed.  As I swirl the pot with soapy water, I ponder with disgusted amusement the irony and frequency with which I find myself performing tasks like this with PEANUT BUTTER ON MY FINGERS.  Isaac decides my sympathy job was lame and starts his 'stage cry'.  While scrutinizing the soapy pot, I verbalize more sympathy.  Not good enough.  Isaac whirls me around by my pants leg so I can also see on his face the utter agony and affliction he has suffered.  I properly comfort him and shoo them to the breakfast table.  Ian sees the glorious waffles and celebrates, "Oh fank you, mom!"  I get two sippy cups of milk poured while Ian is asking for his waffle to be cut into smaller pieces.  I deliver the milk and start to cutting, when I notice Isaac's food has dematerialized.  How does he do that?!

Later at lunch time, the boys plop down at their table.  As I'm pouring drinks, I hear Ian launch into his speed prayer.  It goes something like "Dear God, fank you for God, please bless evy-one. [Arms fling out to perform a giant clap]. AA-MEN!"  I feel a surge of pride that my little guy, who'd often rather bypass the ritual, remembered the blessing all on his own.  Mid-meal, Ian stands up, walks around the table and dutifully slurps applesauce off of his brother's shirt, then returns to his seat.

I take the opportunity to talk about tomorrow being Thanksgiving.  I talk about the time with family and friends, the delicious meal and how we will think about all the things we are thankful for.  I tell them how thankful I am for my sweet boys, their fantastic daddy and the health and happiness God has blessed us with. I tell them I am thankful that Grammy is feeling better from her appendix surgery,  I express my gratitude for the beautiful weather, good friends and that all our needs are met.  I turn to Ian and ask what he is thankful for.  "Straws!"  Well, he does make a good point.