for Gabe on your first birthday

How has a whole year already passed us by?  A year filled with struggle, and sleeplessness, and adventure, and joy.  So much joy.

Your smile can light up a room, my little lion man, and you certainly have your father's charm.  As well as his dreamy, blue eyes.  They perfectly compliment your kind face and your strong, broad shoulders.

It's safe to say that you stole our hearts from the moment you entered this world, but that love has only grown more love as the months have stretched on.  The way you are ever the inquirer.  The way you watch your daddy's every move, and want to be a part of his world.  The way that you laugh at your big sister and patiently endure her antics.  The way that you only have eyes for your mama--at least for now.

We are praying for you, dear boy.  That the Lord, Jesus would cause you to know and love Him.  That you might be a man of courage and conviction.  That you would live in a manner worthy of your calling. And, though I dread the thought, that you might patiently wait for a girl to come along who loves Jesus and will faithfully serve along side you in the work of the gospel.

Happy Birthday sweet Gabriel.  You are a precious gift from God.

beauty for Friday

 
It was, as I have said, a fine autumnal day; the sky was clear and serene, and nature wore that rich and golden livery which we always associate with the idea of abundance. The forests had put on their sober brown and yellow, while some trees of the tenderer kind had been nipped by the frosts into brilliant dyes of orange, purple, and scarlet.
 -Washington Irving, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow 

extra grace for today

This morning we are weak and weary after a night in which the two littlest members of our household aligned themselves at bedtime and waged war against rest.  I struggled to have patience and a good attitude this morning during oatmeal served with a side of tantrums, and felt desperate for what would become of the day.

Finally, after I forbid my three year old from singing any more at the breakfast table, the Lord broke in.  Sweet Piper is so resilient, and held my hand as we pleaded with God for our day.  That we would live it in a way that is worthy of His calling on our lives.  That He would give us extra grace and rest.  We need rest.

Our prayer may not have been so eloquent.  More like, "God, please help us.", amidst tears of exhaustion.

Next, Piper asked me to read from the Jesus Storybook Bible.  We landed on the story of A Little Girl and a Poor Frail Lady from Luke 8.  Of course, I was struck by the miracle of Jarius' daughter being brought back from sickness and death.  But that isn't the whole story.  God is great in the way that He can put His glory on display in doing the impossible, while teaching us not to overlook the small details.

Jarius had enough faith to go to Jesus when his daughter was ill, however when his servants came to him with news of the child's death it seemed that all hope was lost.  But the frail, old lady they met along the way simply wrecked me.  She felt certain that if she could simply touch the robe of Jesus, she would be healed.  And she was.  And what's more, hope was not lost for the little girl.  A beautiful picture of the day we look forward to when the sad things of this world are made untrue at Jesus' return.

We cried out to God for help at our breakfast table, and He replied with simple instruction on faith.  He said to us, through the story of this faithful, sickly woman, You believed, and now you are well.  

Lord, I believe.  Only help my unbelief.

His mercies

She is nine years old with no understanding of forgiveness other than to ask for it.  So she does, every day, for the same mistakes.  Little does she know that He nailed it to the cross long ago.

She is a teenager who's been sold a feel-good gospel and a Jesus who is our "homeboy"  It seems like God should be...bigger.  He is showing her how great her need is, and how much greater her Savior is.

She is entering adulthood, and hides her doubts with an air of certainty and self-righteousness.  God is breaking her heart and showing her His great love, for her and for others.

She is a new mom who every day listens to the whispers of the enemy:  You aren't enough.  You don't contribute.  You fail daily to be patient, and clean the house, and keep it together.  The Father of light is daily giving her grace, and wrapping her heart in His truth:  I've made you new, and that is enough.  I've given you a task, and that is a contribution.  My grace is sufficient for all your many failures. 

Praise be to God that His mercies are new every morning, because our need is new every morning.  The wonderful thing about our Savior is that He didn't save us; He is [every day] saving us.

thankfulness

Today I am relishing the blessings that the Father continually heaps on us.

For eleven years since my love took me on a walk in a field and asked me to be his "girlfriend", the start of something-we knew not what.  Last night as we crawled under the covers Zach asked me if I would do it all again.  The answer was a resounding yes!

For lattes-with a dash of pumpkin spice and a pinch of cinnamon dolce- delivered right to my doorstop by a mother-in-law who serves us so well, even on her birthday

For this wondrous season, which fills my soul with delight and makes me think I can do just about anything.  The golden hues and chilly breezes are undeniably the work of our creator, painting his glory all across even this temporary home.

For the gentle snores coming from the rooms of our sick babies.  These germs and  and fevers are for the birds, but I'll take the extra cuddles.  Just when I think I can't love 'em anymore.

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on children and fears

Sometimes at night when I am tip-toeing up the stairs with a sleeping baby draped over my shoulder I am tempted to believe that they are mine; that I can protect them; and I can make sure that no harm ever comes their way.

I'm cuddling my little guy and administering regular doses of tylenol to make the cold and fever go away, but how do I teach him about the least of these--no medicine.  no full bellies.  and definitely no mama cuddles.

I'm making our sassy girl all cute and putting bows in her hair, but will she ever know what it's like out there for so many beauties?  We tell her that her beauty comes from a love that is inside her, from being made in the King's image.  Will she be heartbroken when she finds out that so many like her are told lies from the enemy-- that men only want one thing, and to be desirable is to give it up or worse, sell it to the highest bidder.

The truth is, my biggest fear is that the only thing I teach my children is that the American dream, wrapped in a picket fence, a college degree, and 1.86 children, is all there is.  Every day we walk the line between wanting our children to have every opportunity, and wanting them to be willing to give it all up for the calling of Jesus.  Don't get me wrong, the suburbs need the gospel.  I just don't want to fool myself into thinking that the gospel needs the suburbs.

We are still new at this, so the question remains:  Will giving our children every thing cause them to miss out on everything?

on moving and moving on

We like to consider ourselves frugal.  Dave Ramsey would be proud, as we managed to leave school with no debt and generally choose to buy things when we need them with what we have. 

So it would seem that we had lost our heads when we bought our house.  We became intoxicated by a dated, abandoned fixer-upper that promised more entertaining space.  A home that our children would grow in.

The dreams we had for our home should have foreshadowed something greater, but still we pressed on.  We spent a whole year in our house wishing for what it could be.  We saw potential and painted until we were drunk on the fumes, and even gutted a whole kitchen.

No sooner had we come home to our dream kitchen than the Lord began to tug at our hearts.  I remember a conversation with Zach right after we finished that massive project.  He teased and asked if I was ready to move anytime soon.  I shot back with, "Not unless we can take this kitchen with us."  Dramatic irony, if ever there was. 

We are so thankful for the time we have spent here on Fredericksburg Drive.  I love the mature trees that are starting to turn brilliant shades of gold as you make your way down our winding street.  I love that we brought our boy home from the hospital to a nursery that wasn't quite finished.  I love that I got to watch our Piper girl turn from a baby into a little girl full of curiosity in this playroom.  And I really love the kitchen that Zach and I poured every ounce of designer we have into.  And with that:

We are putting our house on the market.  

It seems weird saying it out loud.  Like when you repeat a word over and over again, until you begin to question whether it is really even a word at all.  The details are yet to fall into place, and we often ask one another whether what we are doing is foolish.  We are not sure when or how or who would want this place.

But God... We know that He is rich in His goodness.  We know that He has things in store for our family that are so much greater that our plans.  We know that Greer, just fifteen minutes up the road,  feels so close and so far away.

the beauty of living in community

We are smack dab in the middle of the unknown; a notion that has hit us like a ton of bricks as we have begun the process of developing community in a new place with new people.  People who are younger than us and cooler than us.

We sit on our hands and shuffle our feet, avoiding eye contact, as we make small talk about who we are and where we are coming from.  We try to find common ground and pray, simply, that someone will feel kindred.

The truth is, we were under the impression that we were still "young"; maybe even "hip".  College didn't seem that far removed, until we found ourselves breaking bread with college students.  And now it's not the studying and dorm life that I miss, but the open mindedness about the world we were entering as new adults--and the endless possibilities therein. 

We got in the car to come home tonight.  I immediately questioned my every move.  Is my laugh obnoxious?  Do you think our kids are too rowdy?  Perhaps we talked to much?  The enemy will play this track on repeat throughout the week-- his greatest weapon in drawing the believer out of the community that they so desperately need to survive.

The beauty of community is that it happens in spite of our insecurites and quirks because it centers on a common theme.  Ours is hope.  Hope in a sure thing, that King Jesus sits on His throne and He reigns.