Too Much Irony

It had been a rough day.

I was driving to the store to do some grocery shopping while feeling cranky and discouraged. The kids had been acting up and we’d been cooped up in the house because of bad weather. Even though now they were at home in bed and I was out for some time alone I still couldn’t shake the cloud hanging over my head.

Suddenly, from the trees by the side of the road, dozens of little birds appeared and majestically flew overhead. As I watched them fly I thought to myself, “How amazing! There still is a world out there where things soar and fly unhindered. What a good reminder for me.”

Feeling somewhat uplifted, I turned my eyes back to the road just in time to see something splatter on my windshield. One of those majestic, free birds had just pooped on me.

I sighed.

It had been a rough day.

For the Lansberry Family

Since most of you who read this blog also frequent my siblings’/friends’ blogs you’ll know by now that Margary Rose Lansberry was born early Monday morning. Every baby’s birth is a special and amazing event, but Margary’s was especially wonderful. She is the direct result of a lot of people praying a lot.

I remember weeping over the loss of the Lansberry babies that never breathed in this world. And I prayed for God to be merciful and to grant life to the new baby that was alive inside of Theresa. And God said yes.

When I saw the birth announcement email and James’ jubilant blog post I felt an inexpressible joy bubbling up and I just had to thank our good God right then and there for the marvelous gift He’d given to my friends.

The Lansberry family fall into that category of people that I’ll probably never get to be very close to in this life, but we’ll have a ball praising God together in Heaven. So, for now I’ll watch Margary grow up from afar (as I watch the other Lansberry kids) and I’ll remember the miracle of her birth and someday when we’re all together in the new World then I’ll tell her how I prayed for her and then we’ll turn and together thank our gracious Father- to His face.

What do you say, Margary? Is it a date?

I See the Moon and the Moon Sees Me

Beautiful, slightly creepy- or both?

Just in Case You Were Interested

Here is a picture of the coffee cup mural in my kitchen. For those of you who know our kitchen, it's on the door that leads out to the back room.

My Jumbled Thoughts

Since Jonathan- I mean Fritz- recently posted about missing our childhood, all sorts of thoughts and feelings in me have been bubbling to the surface so I thought I’d try to write them down. They may not be very coherent, but here they are.

I really miss my mom. So many times have I asked God why He took her away from me. Did He really have to take my mentor away? Did He really have to take away the one person who could understand how I was feeling usually better than I knew myself? Did He really have to take away my best friend?

Whenever I do something new with the house- maybe paint a mural of a giant coffee cup in my kitchen or a red-winged blackbird in the front hall- I always wonder what Mom would have thought about it. Most likely, she would have looked at my latest work of art and smiled hugely and said “Oh, how cool!” and she would have stared at it and gone on to say what exactly she liked about it and how great the colors looked. And then she would have talked to Joshua to make sure that he appreciated this work of art in his home as much as she did (and of course, he would have.) And then she would have asked me if I’d be willing to paint something in her house next. And I’d know that she meant every word of praise that she said because she’s the one who taught me to be creative in the first place.

My mom taught all of her kids to go against the grain of society and to be interesting, creative people. And since my style of creativity most resembled hers I always felt that she had a special appreciation for my art. She was the master artist and we kids were the apprentices. And now the master is gone and it’s up to us, her children, to share art and beauty and creativity with this gray world. Now I’m the master artist in my home and I am teaching my children to be artists. But sometimes I wish my master were back here. Sometimes I don’t want to be the master. Sometimes I wish I were still the apprentice.

There are many times when I’ll be struggling with a some issue and I’ll remember something mom said years ago and then I’ll know what do or how to respond in the situation. I think that’s the way it’s supposed to be and I hope that when the time comes for me to leave my grown children that they will be able to see some wisdom in my words and actions.

I’d hate for someone to think that just because I write about my mom that I don’t appreciate or admire my dad. It’s quite the contrary, I assure you. Rarely a day goes by in which I don’t talk to my dad and quite often both Joshua and I turn to him for advice and guidance. My dad is my pastor, my daddy and my friend. And even though he may deny this, he is very wise and I have been extremely blessed to have been raised by this man.

I think the greatest thing about my parents was the balance they created. Mom was artistic and emotional and Dad was logical and rational. My dad taught us to think. My mom taught us to feel. As parents they balanced each other out so that we kids were taught to have a proper amount of both art and logic.

But even though I still have my dad, I miss my mom. Moms are the ones who comfort us when we’re down. Moms are the ones who can sense when we’re under too much stress and then offer to babysit so that we can get out of the house for a bit. Moms are also the ones who can explain and sympathize with the funny quirks of pregnancy, parenting and marriage. Dads give wisdom and guidance. Moms give hugs and warm meals.

I keep telling myself that if God took my mom away that means that I don’t need her anymore. It’s hard to believe sometimes, but when I’m feeling the emptiness of the hole that my mom left I have to know that God has provided something else to fill it. My mom will never be replaced, of course, but somehow God has brought me to the point of not needing her anymore. He would never have taken away something that I needed.

At this point, I could say something schmaltzy like, “I know my mom is watching us from above and is here with us in our hearts.” But I won’t sport with your intelligence like that. I do know that my mom is a part of that great cloud of witnesses that the Bible tells us about and while I don’t understand how the saints in Heaven relate to us down here, I do know that we are connected by the same Love and the same blood that saved us all. I’ll see my mom again, of that I’m sure. I wonder what she’ll look like then. I wonder who I will be then. Can she see my art that I’ve created? Does it matter if she can?

There is so much that I don’t understand. You’d think that someone who has known so closely the bitterness of death would understand it a little better. But I’m content now to be confused. My God has given me all the knowledge I need for the tasks He’s given me. And that’s good enough for now.

Great Song Lyrics

You spoke my world into existence
Designed my mind and soul even knowing
That I would be the one to break your heart

But you sent Your only Son to be our Savior
You sent the living King to be our servant
And bought me with a price I can’t imagine
So I belong to you

---Building 429 "I belong to You

Things We Never Thought We Would Have To Say

"Stop jumping on the toilet."

"You can have a cookie, just put your pants on first."

"Don’t eat the floor."

My Son Has Found His Calling

Today Malachi had a really cute thing going. He was standing on a pillow, facing a chair while holding a book. He would open his book, look over the top of the chair and say, “Good morning. Please stand.”

It took me a minute to realize that my little boy was imitating his Grandpa B. by trying to lead a pretend worship service! The pillow was the “stage,” the chair was the pulpit and I’m guessing the book was supposed to be a Bible.

We gave Malachi his name (meaning “my messenger”) knowing that he would indeed be a messenger of God to this fallen world. And I’ll admit to having hopes that he would someday express an interest in becoming an ordained pastor. I just didn’t think it would be happening so soon...

Yes, This is My Life

Yesterday the kids and I were trying to get ready to go outside to play. I had succeeded in getting Malachi dressed earlier so now it was a matter of getting Lily to put on the clothes I told her to wear and getting myself dressed and presentable while keeping Malachi out of trouble. Here are the steps that we had to complete. This is pretty typical preparation for a trip to the great outdoors.

1.Tell Lily what clothes to wear for the umpteenth time
2. Trip to the potty for Lily
3. Pick out skirt for myself
4. Put said skirt on the hall floor while waiting for Lily to complete potty trip
5. Check email while still waiting for my turn at the potty
6. Hear Lily finish potty adventure and tell her again which clothes to wear
7. Hear splish-splashing sounds coming from potty room and catch Malachi playing in the toilet
8. Be thankful that Lily actually remembered to flush the toilet before Malachi got to it (this time)
9. Take my turn in the potty room and go back to the hall to get my skirt
10. Stare bewildered at the bare space of floor where my skirt lay a minute ago
11. Interrogate children about the whereabouts of the missing skirt
12. Receive all matter of unhelpful answers such as, “I don’t know.”
13. Follow Malachi to my bedroom where he is convinced the skirt is hidden
14. Try to follow his reasoning as he points to one of his daddy’s shirts saying, “Right there!”
15.Thank Malachi for his help and redouble efforts to locate skirt
16. See gas meter man out window and hope desperately that he won’t ring the doorbell and see me in my comfy, but unpresentable sweatpants
17. Finally discover the missing skirt tucked away in the dirty clothes hamper where it was placed by some well-meaning toddler
18. Don skirt, get coats and shoes on everyone and head outside
19. Play outside for approximately ten minutes before discovering that Lily has inadvertently been playing with wet tar
20. Start the next adventure of the day

More Cuteness and More and More...

I'm sure not getting tired of posting pictures of these cute tykes, but if you are getting tired of seeing them then, uh, stop visiting this blog, I guess. Anyway, they're just so cute I really feel it's my duty to mankind to share the adorableness with the less fortunate.

A Look Behind My Mask

As you all have been reading this blog of late, you may or may not have picked up on the fact that these last several months have been really tough for me. In the early months of this pregnancy I struggled with a vicious bout of depression. Even though I knew that the reason I felt the way I did was simply because of my hormones and the crazy things they like to do, I still couldn’t get past the feelings of despair that plagued me daily. This has gotten better in recent weeks, but I still have “gray days” occasionally when I can feel a gray Curtain falling around me and I am utterly cut off from any signs of life and hope. I had trouble writing or talking about how I felt then, but I’d like to try to communicate now just how hard life was for me. One reason I want to write about my depression is so that someone else could know that they are not alone and that there are others- yes, even Christians- who have felt this same thing.

There is no way to gauge when it started or even how it all started, but one day I found myself in a blackness that felt impenetrable. I couldn’t feel the way I knew I should feel. I couldn’t love the way I wanted to. I couldn’t bear to wake up in the morning and I hated going to bed because I knew that morning was coming and I did not want to live another hopeless day.

I remember many times when I could not even form a coherent prayer and all my heart could utter was, “Father, please help me just to be alive right now.” I remember feeling so ashamed of the different thoughts that would run through my head. Thoughts telling me that I was a terrible mother and that my children and husband would be better off if I were dead. Thoughts that said there was no way I could handle having this next baby and wondering if it would be better if I miscarried. These thoughts were always the worst during the day when the kids were acting up and dirty dishes were still sitting in the sink from breakfast and Joshua wouldn’t be home from work for another five hours. Those were dark days. There were many times I didn’t think I would ever make it through. There was no light at the end of the tunnel for me. And I was so alone in that darkness. I did know enough to never act on my feelings. Even on my darkest days I knew that I would never even attempt to harm myself or my children in any way. God granted me grace enough to keep my sanity. And for that I am grateful.


Through this time I tried to not let most people know how I was struggling. If someone asked how I was feeling, I’d smile and say I was fine and then try to change the subject. Perhaps I should have let others in on the secret of my anguish, but I couldn’t bear the thought of receiving some useless sympathy that would only make me feel worse. Joshua, of course, was so sweet in the way that he was patient with me. He was understanding when the laundry wasn’t done and usually offered to pick something up for dinner if it had been a particularly bad day. My dad, too, was an encouragement to me. But even though these men helped me limp along, what I really wanted was another woman to talk to who could understand how I was feeling. I think there are some women who I could have talked to, but I just didn’t have the energy to reach out, ask for help and let them in on my dark secret.

I don’t know how I would have survived without the love of my God to carry me through- even though on most days I would feel like God was floating somewhere out in space a million miles away from me. Even when I felt like He must not be the loving Father I thought He was. Even when I felt like He might as well not exist for all the good He was doing me. But then on those days when the Curtain was lifted ever so slightly and I could see the sun again, during those brief, beautiful moments I could see clearly how my faithful God had led me through the darkness and I knew that when the time came for the Curtain to fall again He would be with me- not floating out there somewhere in my imagination, but living, working and breathing in my very soul. The Curtain could never block Him out. It could block out the sun, my will to live, and any ray of hope, but it could never, ever separate me from the love of my Father.

Just this past week, I was praying before bedtime and I could suddenly feel the gray Curtain slowly starting to fall. “Oh, God,” I prayed, “please don’t let the Curtain fall tonight! Please!” To my astonishment I could feel it being lifted and then it vanished. I heard Jesus whisper that He would not let it fall tonight or tomorrow. The next day I could feel It hovering around the edges, but I remembered Jesus’ promise to me and I knew I could fight It today. I even wrote on the top of my “To Do” list, “The curtain will not fall today” just to remind me.

Perhaps someone reading this has felt the gray Curtain of depression. Perhaps you, too, have felt the empty ache that comes when nothing on earth seems to matter anymore and the feeling that you are alone, so alone, in this losing battle. If you claim Jesus as your Savior from sin then He is your Savior from this, too. Cling to His promise that He will hold you in His loving arms. Cling to this promise even when it feels like you are clinging to empty air. If you do not claim Jesus as your Savior then repent! Acknowledge that you are lost in your sin and that He is the only hope you could ever have to live in this life and in the Life to come. Believe that He- and only He- can save you. I know this is true because He saved me.

How grateful I am to serve a God that knows the pain of living in this fallen world! How awed I am to know that He has conquered this pain and that one day the Curtain will be gone forever and that I will never again feel separated from the One I love.

My Cute Family

Alyssa

Here is a picture of my newest adorable niece. Isn't she precious? Here's "Uncle Josh" cuddling this cute addition to the family.

The Unmasking

This song spoke rather directly to me since I struggle so much with opening up and showing others the “real” me. This is a problem that is very prevalent in the Church today. If that’s going to change then we need to be the ones to share our weaknesses and make ourselves vulnerable to others. We need to be the ones to unmask. If we don’t start the process, who will?

Stained Glass Masquerade

Is there anyone that fails? Is there anyone that falls?
Am I the only one in church today feelin’ so small?
‘Cause when I take a look around everybody seems so strong.
I know they’ll soon discover that I don’t belong.

So I tuck it all away, like everything’s okay. If I make them all believe it,
maybe I’ll believe it, too.
So with a painted grin, I play the part again so everyone will see me
the way that I see them

Chorus:
Are we happy plastic people? Under shiny plastic steeples?
With walls around our weakness and smiles to hide our pain.
But if the invitation’s open to every heart that has been broken
maybe then we close the curtain on this stained glass masquerade.

Is there anyone who’s been there? Are there any hands to raise?
Am I the only one’s who’s traded in the altar for a stage?
The performance is convicing and we know every line by heart.
Only when no one is watching can we really fall apart.

Chorus

But would it set me free if I dared to let you see
the hurt behind the person that you imagined me to be?
Would your arms be open or would you walk away?
Would the love of Jesus be enough to make you stay?

Chorus

Stained Glass Masquerade by Casting Crowns

A Few Haiku

When days are gray
only night
is certain


the morning comes with rain
and yet
the sky's tears are beautiful


in this dark day
clouds obscure the sun
even now- You are

Just for Kicks

Some Good Blogging

Check out this post :
House of the Sick (or Stop Being so Stupid! You Stuck-up, Self-Righteous, Arrogant.....)

As you can probably tell by the title, it's one of Mr. Fritz the Grand's posts in which he shows forth the bold honesty that we've all come to love about him.

Good News from a Proud Aunt

Ladies and Gentlemen,

As of this morning Joshua and I have a brand new niece in the world.
Alyssa Laurel Wismar was born to Mikael and Christen Wismar at around 7:40 this morning. (Christen is Joshua’s sister.) Alyssa was a breech baby so she was born via c-section and daddy, mommy and baby are all doing well. I haven’t seen her yet, but I have it on good authority that she is really cute with an adorable nose.

Congratulations, Mikael and Christen!!!

A Very Happy Birthday Wish

Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you,
Haaaaappy Biiiiirthdaaaay deeaarrrr Caaarrieeeeee!
Happy Birthday to you!

( Just imagine you're actually hearing my charming voice belting out those words.)

Carrie, have a terrific birthday. May God bless you tremendously in this new year of your life.

I love you!!!!!

A Thought on Instincts and Doctors

As a culture, we are growing increasingly dependant on doctors. Somehow the doctor’s role has been upgraded from that of a good addition to a society to that of the Almighty Physician who can cure all our ills. What ever happened to trusting our own built-in instincts in the matter of our health? It’s even gotten to the point where most of us have stopped trusting our own instincts because we feel we need the doctor’s approval to take care of our health and that of our families.

There have been several times when something has happened to one of my family members and I had a gut feeling about it, but I decided to call the doctor “just in case” and go through the hassle of setting up an appointment and waiting around at the doctor’s office only to hear the doctor tell me to do exactly what I was going to do anyway.

Another option for those times when even the most intuitive person is stumped, is to ask a more experienced person for advice. So the next time one of your kids develops a strange rash why not call your mom to see if she ever had a similar experience with you or your siblings? Or perhaps an older woman in your church? Maybe a wise next door neighbor? Obviously, if someone is injured waste no time calling relatives and get that person medical attention. But do we really need to call the doctor at the drop of a hat?

To be clear, I’m not a doctor hater. I am very pleased with my family doctor and there are a couple of medical professionals in my church whose opinions (and friendships) I value highly. The medical field serves us well and we should be grateful for the care we receive from it. But let’s make sure that medicine is serving us and we aren’t idolizing it. God gave us humans the amazing ability to understand our own bodies. Yes, sometimes we do need the aid and wisdom of a highly trained physician, but does that have to be our first and only option? Wouldn’t you rather hear from a friend, “Oh, I remember when my kids had a rash like that. This is what I did...” or from the doctor, “Here’s your prescription. That will cost you...”

Anyway, this is just a thought.

Adiel's Words of Wisdom

7. The next time you find yourself standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes while stretching your leg by putting it up on the counter and wearing purple pajama pants with little pictures of ballet shoes and violins printed on them- ALWAYS BE SURE THE CURTAINS OF ANY NEARBY WINDOWS ARE CLOSED.

My Brown Eyed Girl

More Silliness

I gave Malachi a haircut today. Here are some pictures of him showing off his new 'do.




Doesn't he remind you of Calvin from "Calvin and Hobbes?"

A Thought From Your Father

"He who continually goes forth weeping,
Bearing seed for sowing,
Shall doubtless come again with rejoicing,
Bringing his sheaves with him."
Psalm 126:6



Remember this.

Adiel's Words of Wisdom

5. Once a child reaches an age somewhere between eighteen months and two years ALWAYS DUCT TAPE HIS DIAPERS. It only takes one little piece of duct tape across the front of the diaper to secure both little straps and ensure that the diaper will stay where you put it the whole night through. Otherwise, you never know where you may find that diaper come morning.
The diaper duct tape rule also applies anytime a child is sleeping while wearing only a diaper. ( During the hot summer months, for example.) Diaper straps loves to get got on blankets, sheets, etc. and pull right off.
(Obviously this only applies to disposable diapers. I have no idea what would secure a cloth diaper. Suspenders, perhaps?)



6. During pregnancy, be sure to keep a lively sense of humor because nothing works quite the way it’s supposed to when one is big with child. For example, if, sometime during your third trimester, you decide that you want to roll over in bed do not be surprised if you find yourself stuck mid-roll with your arms and legs waving in the air in a desperate attempt to create enough force to complete the roll. This is perfectly normal. Also do not be surprised if you find your husband shaking with laughter during the whole episode. This, too, is normal and he is just following my advice by keeping a sense of humor.

Malachi's Birthday

We celebrated Malachi’s second birthday last Saturday. (His real birthday is the 29th of this month.) Since he is the little boy that he is, he loves trucks so that was the theme of his party. Here is the cake I made for him.


He loves to “fix” things so we got him this tool set.
He actually blew out his own candle! It only took three or four tries.
Here's Chewy getting a ride in the dump truck that Grandpa B. got for Malachi. Between the dump truck and his new hammer our furniture is going to be awfully dented.

He got quite the assortment of trucks and various truck-related things. So what if we have to buy a larger house now to hold it all?

Happy Birthday, Malachi! I love you!

Adiel's Words of Wisdom

I hope you all are paying attention to my words of wisdom. They could spare you much pain and frustration down the road.


4. Never use your bare hands to wipe off dried oatmeal from the stovetop. You could cut your finger. ( Ouch, it hurts to type this.)

Adiel’s Words of Wisdom

Here are a few tidbits of wisdom that I’ve picked up through my own experiences.

1. Always butter your corn on the cob after breaking it in half with your hands.

2. Attempting to spackle walls while making dinner is not a good idea.

3. Remember to remove your contact lenses before flossing with spearmint flavored floss. Once that minty wax gets on your fingers... yeow! It's enough to burn your eyes out. (This same rule applies to chili pepper.)

The Bards Will Sing of This

We are trying to instill the trait of bravery in the little man of the house. To that end, Malachi has been dubbed “Bug-Killer.” His habit, upon seeing a bug or anything that could possibly even remotely resemble a bug, is to scream in terror and run away yelling, “A bug, a bug!” So we are teaching him instead to try to squish bugs or at the very least to fearlessly shout at them to go back to their own homes outside.

Today the kids were in Lily’s room playing when I heard a commotion emitting from that room: “Eeeee! A bug, a bug!” Malachi came running to me to insure that I had heard the distressing news. Thinking it was only a piece of fuzz or perhaps a fruit fly or some such thing, I handed him a tissue and told him to go squish the bug. When I followed him into the room a few seconds later to see if he had conquered the lint I saw Lily standing safely behind Malachi as he was bravely trying to squish a spider closely resembling Shelob in size and grossness. In spite of Malachi’s valiant attempts, the spider had evaded the squishing so I grabbed the tissue and delivered the killing stroke. Then we all trouped to the bathroom and flushed the descendant of Shelob, tissue and all, down the toilet.

What bravery my little bug-killer showed! Now that I’m done laughing about it I’m ready to burst with pride. This is how boys become men- by learning to squish bugs.

More Cosby Quotes

"No matter how calmly you try to referee, parenting will eventually produce bizarre behavior, and I’m not talking about the kids. Their behavior is always normal, a norm of acting incomprehensively with sweetly blank looks. But you will find yourself strolling down the road to the funny farm- like my mother, who used to get so angry that she would forget my name:
"All right, come over here, Bar- uh, Bernie... uh, uh Biff...uh- what is your name, boy? And don’t you lie to me ’cause you live here and I’ll find out who you are and knock your brains out!" "


"We have always been against calling the children idiots. This philosophy has been basic for my wife and me. And we proudly lived by it until the children came along."

And the classic Cosby parenting quote:
" I brought you into this world and I can take you out of it."

Camping

We’re going camping tomorrow and I can hardly wait. We’ll only be staying one night, but I’m already dreaming about everything I love about camping: the feel of crisp morning air on my face when I step out of the tent, watching the coffee boil over the fire, sticky, gooey s’mores, the sound of leaves dancing over my head, the way a campfire looks so awesome and powerful and beautiful at the same time, the stars as they show off their brightness in a way that can never be seen in the city.

I have so many good memories from my childhood camping days. There was the time I lost my shoe in some mud and got to go to a nearby mall to get some replacements- what a treat that was for a little kid! I’ll never forget that three-legged bear that visited our campsite- twice. Good thing our fearless mom was there to scare him off. (Dad was back home working that time. Of course if he had been there that bear would never have shown up. Strange things only happened when Mom was around.) I remember Seth (or was it Jonathan?) partially melting his sneakers as he tried to dry them by the fire. And, of course, I remember the fact that it rained every single time my family went camping.

Camping was always an adventure when I was growing up and I can’t wait to give my kids some great memories, too. Though I certainly hope bears and rain aren’t necessary requirements for good memories.

Cosby Quotes

These are some quotes from Bill Cosby’s book Fatherhood. I’ll keep posting them as I enjoy rereading this classic that every parent should read at least once.


No, immortality was not the reason why my wife and I produced these beloved sources of dirty laundry and ceaseless noise. And we also did not have them because we thought it would be fun to see one of them sit in a chair and stick out his leg so that another one of them running by was launched like Explorer I. After which I said to the child who was the launching pad,
“Why did you do that?”
“Do what?” he replied.
“Stick out your leg.”
“Dad, I didn’t know my leg was going out. My leg, it does that a lot.”
If you cannot function in a world where things like this are said, then you better forget about raising children and go for daffodils.



All five [of my children] ran to the same car door, grabbed the same handle, and spent the next few minutes beating each other up. Not one of them had the intelligence to say, “Hey, look. There are three more doors.” The dog, however, was already inside.



About childbirth...

Meanwhile, [the doctor] was still sitting there, waiting for the delivery.
“Look!” I suddenly said. “Isn’t that the head?”
“I believe it is,” he replied.
“Well, go get it.”
“It’s stuck.”
“Then get the salad spoons, man.”
So he got the salad spoons, the baby came out, and my wife and I were suddenly sharing the greatest moment in our lives. This was what we had asked God for, this was what we wanted to see if we could make. And I looked at it lovingly as they started to clean it off, but it wasn’t getting any better.
And then I went over to my wife, kissed her gently on the lips and said, “Darling, I love you very much. You just had a lizard.”

A Morning Surprise

This morning Joshua and I woke up to find that we each had a little Care Bear lying next to us in bed. Apparently Lily had snuck into our room while we were snoozing and left us some little friends to keep us company. I was touched at her cute thoughtfulness. “How adorable!” I thought, “She didn’t even wake us up. I’ll give her a thank you hug when she gets up.”
And then I noticed which Care Bear had been given to me- Grumpy Bear.
Hmm... I might need to have a talk with that little girl.

One of Those Pictures...

Here we have the adorable flower girl accompanied by the handsome ring bearer.




Anyone have any ideas for a caption for Malachi’s expression? It's rather priceless isn't it? (You may want to enlarge the picture to get the full cuteness of it.)

The Ringbearer

Unabashed Bragging

Every evening after dinner we have a Family Worship time during which we read the Bible, sing a psalm and pray. It’s fun watching the kids try to be involved in the singing and Joshua and I try to sing so that they can understand the words and sing along as best as they can.

One night, while we were still eating dinner, Lily decides to show us how well she can sing Psalm 100. Her little three-year-old voice rises as she sings the first verse from memory and it’s not until she reaches the last line that she pauses, looking slightly confused, trying so hard to remember that final line. Suddenly, from the other end of the table, Malachi’s warbling, not-quite-two-year-old voice pipes up as he adorably and accurately finishes the psalm. We, the proud and amazed parents, applauded enthusiastically.
Aren’t my kids great?

A New Life Begins

This past Saturday, my dear sister-in-law, Jen, became Mrs. Jason Jacob. This wedding was a long time in coming and Jen and Jason had gone through some struggles before they could finally be joined in marriage. The couple met in India several years ago when Jen went there on a missions trip. Jen was able to visit Jason only one time since then. After struggling to get Jason his visa and being apart for what felt like an eternity, Jason set foot in America for the first time ever about two weeks ago.
It was amazing and moving to witness the joining of two people that I care so much about.
May God bless the new Jacob family as they seek to serve Him.

Congratulations!

Sunflower Lily

Which is better?

Quotable

Marriage is like a fine wine- too much of it can make a man woozy- er, I mean, the longer it ages the better it gets.

Yeah, that’s what I meant to say.

Thank You, Thank You- Again

I’m thankful for the feel of the sun on my toes, the sound of a waterfall, the butterfly kicks of my baby, having a dad that lives nearby, having a pastor that lives nearby, peppermint patties, my washing machine and Little Caesar's five dollar pizzas.

My Grandma Gardner

On Saturday I went to a funeral. The funeral was in honor of Mary Virginia Gardner. A lovely woman, I knew her simply as Grandma Gardner. The thing about Grandma Gardner that I will most remember and most miss is her smile. She had a smile that would light up a rainy day and when that smile was pointed at you then you felt like the sun had come out just for you. Even when she lived in a nursing home and her memory was starting to deteriorate still that smile never wavered and whenever we’d go visit her she always met us with her sunshine.

It wasn’t just a happy chance that Grandma had such joy. No, the reason for her smile was her faith in Jesus. He’s the One who gave her that smile to use to bless others. And so I’m convinced that when I see her again in our real Home she’ll be wearing that same smile only it will be even bigger and brighter than it ever was here.

Yes, it hurt to say goodbye to Grandma Gardner, but Death’s sting cannot compare to the joy of life and smiles everlasting. We, her family, will cry now, but pretty soon the same Person that wiped away Grandma’s tears will wipe away our tears, too. And that thought makes me smile.

A Song

Winter Song

It’s not snowing outside
The grass isn’t green
The sky is bitter
And the cold is grey

Chorus:
Hope fades when winter lasts for years
Spring comes too late
The barren ground cries out for life
But the call fades on the wind

Sometimes I light a fire
Just to warm my hands
But fires need fuel
And I’ve run out again

And it’s so cold out here

Chorus:
Hope fades when winter lasts for years
Spring comes too late
The barren ground cries out for life
But my call fades on the wind

And yet there are some days
When the sun breaks through again
And the trees all turn to diamonds
It’s still cold out
But the beauty takes my breath away
And hope breaths on the wind

Chorus:
Hope fades when winter lasts for years
Spring comes too late
The barren ground cries out for life
And hope breathes on the wind
Yes, hope breathes on the wind

And it’s still cold out here

Short, Sweet and Over

I’m back! I enjoyed my little blogfast even though it was only a little over a week long. It was nice to have some time to think about my cyber life without worrying about trying to post something interesting. I realize I’ve gone longer periods of time without posting something before, but it felt different being intentional.

I chose today as my comeback day for a very important reason. Check out the post below and you’ll see why.

Happy Birthday, Handsome!

Today is my dear husband's 26th birthday! What better way to honor him than to write a blog post about him for millions to read? Okay, so maybe there are just three of you reading this. Hey, I can still brag about my man to three people.


I first met Joshua at our church and then got to know him better on his college campus at a Bible study that my dad was leading. The first thing that attracted me to Joshua was his obvious gentlemanlike nature. (Oh, and he was really cute!) As we started courting I got to see that besides being sweet and gentle he was also a young man in love with his God and I knew that he was a man that would be an excellent husband and strong spiritual leader.

Over four years later I know that I was right. Sure, he has some habits that drive me bonkers, but he remains a firm, loving, kind and gentle leader. I can say without a doubt in my mind that I am closer to my God and more faithful to Him because of how my husband has led me. And I see Joshua leading our children the same way.

And besides all this, Joshua mows the lawn, fixes things around the house, changes diapers, puts the toilet seat down and buys me chocolate when I need it. Have I got the perfect man or what?

Joshua, thank you for loving me and for taming this shrew. It’s because of you that I know what a Godly man looks like.

Happy Birthday, Dearest.

For Your Information

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Why I Wear This Fabric- Reason #1

I’m not usually one to care what the going fashions are and actually, most of the time I think what is popular looks a tad on the silly side. But this summer I was pleased to see the long, romantic skirts hitting the streets and enjoying a moment of fame. “Yes!” I thought, “Now I won’t totally stand out for a change!” You see, on an average day you will find me wearing a long, sweeping skirt. Whether I’m scheduled to do laundry, scrub floors or even play tennis, I’ll be wearing that skirt. To some people this is not a new thought, but I know that there are many out there who may be boggled as to why I would choose to wear a skirt when could be wearing jeans or shorts. Here is just one reason for this oddity:

In our culture there is an obvious feminist movement underway. Women are trying to prove that they can do anything a man does and that there isn’t a difference between the sexes- everyone is equal. Well, that just isn’t the case.

“For man is not from woman, but woman from man. Nor was man created for the woman, but woman for the man.” 1 Corinthians 11: 8-9

“And I do not permit a woman to... have authority over a man. ... For Adam was formed first, then Eve.” 1 Timothy 2 12a -13

“Husbands, likewise, dwell with them with understanding, giving honor to the wife, as to the weaker vessel...” 1 Peter 3:7

In our increasingly androgynous society, there is a great lack of men and women who are willing to differentiate between the sexes. And yet, didn’t our God do just that? He created us to be different.

My husband and I are ever trying to understand the differences between us and how we, as Christians, should be demonstrating these differences. One obvious way is how we dress. Before all the hullabaloo of feminism started, this culture had a certain dress code: men wore pants and women wore skirts. Even today, despite the effects of the she-woman movement, no man in his right mind would wear a skirt out in public. In our culture a skirt remains a symbol of femininity.

And now we return to my long skirt. One reason I wear this skirt is to display to the world that I am a woman and I’m proud of it. I am not attempting to be a man- that would be unnatural and unbiblical- I am content being what God made me. Someone could argue that our culture has changed and now pants are fully acceptable for women to wear and still look feminine. But you have to ask the question: How did it become acceptable? Did a group of women decide that wearing pants would better enable them to submit to their own husbands and be a helper to him? I think not. Wasn’t it rather yet another step in the progression of a “woman’s rights”? Isn’t a woman wearing pants a symbol that she is equal to a man? “Look, she’s even wearing the same clothes as he is!”

Clothes reflect who the wearer is. A soldier in the army wears camouflage, a doctor wears a white lab coat, a nurse wears scrubs and even a fast food worker wears a uniform. Their uniforms remind them of who they are and it displays their identity for all to see.

It is important to note that there are situations, events and cultures in which the right and even more feminine thing to do would be to not wear a skirt. Different cultures have different ways of expressing masculinity and femininity. We are not responding to those situations and cultures. We are responding to our culture, the time in which we are living, and the situation we are living in. God made men and women to be different, with different roles and duties. To act like we are the same would be in direct rebellion against God’s will. And yet, isn’t that what a woman is doing when she dresses like a man?

“A woman shall not wear anything that pertains to a man, nor shall a man put on a woman’s garment, for all who do so are an abomination to the LORD your God.” Deuteronomy 22:5

Rhinos

We when to the Erie Zoo on Saturday and believe me, we had a tough time figuring out who had a better time- the kids or the parents. The animals seemed really active that day and some of the highlights of our trip were the two polar bears swimming, a herd of kangaroos hopping and these two rhinoceroses. I don't think I've ever seen a rhino actually move before. They were always lounging in the sun whenever I'd see them. I was amazed at how giant and powerful these creatures are.

They seem so dinosaur-like. Aren't those horns something? It seems incredible that those legs can carry that body. Wow.

A Flutterby

A Quote

As I’m reading through the Lord of the Rings again I am realizing that much of the story that follows Frodo and Sam's journey isn't really about Frodo and the Ring at all, but about Sam, the clumsy, but loyal servant.

This is one of my favorite moments in The Two Towers:

"Then suddenly straight over the rim of their sheltering bank, a man fell, crashing through the slender trees, nearly on top of them...

It was Sam’s first view of a battle of Men against Men, and he did not like it much. He was glad he could not see the dead face. He wondered what the man’s name was and where he came from; and if he was really evil of heart, or what lies or threats had led him on the long march from his home; and if he would not really rather have stayed there in peace- all in a flash of thought which was quickly driven from his mind."

My Cute Little Banker

Doesn't he look like a cute, chubby banker?

The Silence of God

This is my favorite Andrew Peterson song. Not many Christian songwriters talk about those times when you feel hopeless and God sounds so quiet. Appropriately, though, the song that comes right after this one on the CD is "After the Last Tear Falls." That is a song about the hope we have. I'll post those lyrics sometime, but for now...

The Silence of God

It's enough to drive a man crazy; it'll break a man's faith
It's enough to make him wonder if he's ever been sane
When he's bleating for comfort from Thy staff and Thy rod
And the heaven's only answer is the silence of God

It'll shake a man's timbers when he loses his heart
When he has to remember what broke him apart
This yoke may be easy, but this burden is not
When the crying fields are frozen by the silence of God

And if a man has got to listen to the voices of the mob
Who are reeling in the throes of all the happiness they've got
When they tell you all their troubles have been nailed up to that cross
Then what about the times when even followers get lost?
'Cause we all get lost sometimes...

There's a statue of Jesus on a monastery knoll
In the hills of Kentucky, all quiet and cold
And He's kneeling in the garden, as silent as a Stone
All His friends are sleeping and He's weeping all alone

And the man of all sorrows, He never forgot
What sorrow is carried by the hearts that He bought
So when the questions dissolve into the silence of God
The aching may remain, but the breaking does not
The aching may remain, but the breaking does not
In the holy, lonesome echo of the silence of God

The Thunder

I had written this some time ago for my Quotes and Thoughts email. Yesterday as my family and I were driving home from Maryland there was lightning flashing in the clouds above us and I was reminded of this so I thought I'd share it with you all.

We were driving on I-90 in the middle of the night. In the darkness around us a storm was raging. We saw streaks of lightning flash across the sky spreading out like tree branches and we heard the Thunder. Thunder that shook the very earth. Thunder that broke through the air resounding even more loudly than the sound of the rain pounding on the roof of our car. I was afraid. I thought of the Israelites around Mount Sinai as God spoke with thunder. I felt small, weak, and helpless driving beneath that Sound with nothing but the thin walls of a minivan to shield me from the fury.

As we traveled we were listening to music and this is what I heard:

"I am hanging on every word you say
And even if you don't want to speak tonight
that's alright, alright with me
'Cause I want nothing more than to sit
outside Heaven's door and listen to you breathing
Is where I want to be."

Somehow the soothing melody and lyrics contrasting with the terrible storm thundering above us moved me greatly. God was speaking to me in the Thunder. He told me about His strength, His power and His rage. Then He spoke of His gentle love to me and His sweet protection of me. I felt like I was indeed sitting outside Heaven's door listening to my loved One speak.

Oh, I fear for the unrepentant sinners who will feel His wrath and be utterly unprotected from it! But how sweet it is for His beloved children to see His awful fury and to know that we are saved from it through Jesus.

Thank you, my Savior! I will spend eternity thanking the One who saved me from the Thunder.

My Boys

Thank you, thank you

I’m grateful for rain on a warm day, juicy tomatoes ripening in the sun, pillows, chocolate, the sound of a toddler laughing, the sound of two toddlers laughing, books, my eyebrows, a hot cup of tea, air conditioning, a hug from my husband.

Father, forgive me for taking these small graces for granted. I pray that You would make my amazement and gratitude for them grow every day.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.

A Movie Review

Due to my father generously agreeing to watch the children for us, Joshua and I were able to go out on a real date last Friday. We went to see the newest M. Night Shyamalan movie, Lady in the Water. I would highly recommend this movie- but not to everyone. Let me explain.

Shyamalan has created something of a name for himself with his trademark twist endings. Lady in the Water does not have a twist ending. It is a Fairy Tale. I walked into the movie theater knowing to not expect a twist ending and so I was able to fully enjoy the story as it was, but I fear that the general public will not be so understanding.

Shyamalan has gained my respect for his ability to tell a story in a beautiful way. The way I like to describe his movies is that I view them each as an intricate painting. The story, characters, colors and music all combine to create something that is truly breathtaking and never fails to bring tears to my eyes. That is what I was expecting when I went to see Lady in the Water and I was not disappointed.

The characters are amazing in this story. There were many characters that would have been out of place in a “typical” Shyamalan film, but that fit perfectly in this one. This movie is definitely a different genre for Shyamalan having more comedy that his other films and more rather unusual characters, but it just goes to show that a truly talented storyteller doesn’t have to be confined to a certain mold to create a beautiful story.

Shyamalan has a role in this film that is perfect for him and it is obvious that this role meant a lot to him in the way he played it.

So, if you insist on expecting to see a movie that is identical to Shyamalan’s other movies then don’t see this movie. But if you want to see a good movie with a moving story, fantastic characters and gorgeous music then go see Lady in the Water.

Introducing...

Ladies and Gentlemen, I have the honor of introducing, for his first public appearance- the youngest member of the Gardner family- Baby Vos!


Okay, so the picture ain't something to write home about, but I'm so proud of it! He is healthy and cute and that's good enough for me. He is about eleven weeks old now and growing fast. The sonogram showed that the hematoma (blood clot) is still there, but it doesn't seem to be affecting the baby at all. I would like it to not be there, though, so we're praying for that blood clot to disappear.
By the way, we obviously don't know if this little tyke is male or female so he'll be referred to as "he" for the duration of his stay in my belly.

My Frailty

Sometimes I wish I were a kid again. Some days the weight of my responsibilities feels so heavy and I want to dump it all on someone else. I want someone to fly in and clean the house, play fun and educational games with the kids and then make a delicious, comforting meal. But there’s no one here to do that. Except me. If the house is going to get clean then I have to do it. If my kids are going to get the love and attention they need I have to give it to them. If I want to eat a home-cooked meal tonight I have to cook it.

Sometimes I just wish that I could be a kid running to my mommy. My mommy would give me a hug and tell me that this is just a phase in my life and that I’m doing a good job and that she’s proud of me. My mommy would make everything all better. But she’s not here. I am the mommy and it’s my job to make everything all better.

I love being a mommy, but even more I love being a child. If I didn’t have my heavenly Father daily giving me the strength to wash dishes and fold laundry then I would fail and I would always feel the way I’m feeling right now. But I have to remember: this is just a phase in my life, I’m doing a good job and my Father is proud of me. At least that’s what my mommy would say.

Memories

So you all probably know by now that today is the third anniversary of the day my mom got to leave this world and see the one Person that Christians everywhere dream about seeing. While I figure there’s really no reason to be sad today I’d still like to commemorate this day by remembering some of the wacky things about my mom. Enjoy.

1. Mom is up to her elbows in raw meat- the makings for a whole heap of meatballs. Dad decides to surprise her and walks in the door with a single rose and a sweet note for her. I suppose I should mention now that she was also coloring hair ( multi-tasking, you know) and so she was wearing an ugly, junky shirt with smelly goop in her hair while up to her elbows in raw meat. The lovebirds look at each other, laugh hysterically and kiss. Now that’s true romance.

2. Gaby, Mom and I are at Barnes and Noble enjoying coffee at their cafe. We decide it’s time to leave and get our jackets, ponchos, etc on. One problem: Mom somehow has trouble finding the head hole in her poncho and is flailing her arms in the air about half enveloped by black poncho yelling, “Help!” Gaby and I did the only reasonable thing for two teenage girls to do in that situation- we pretended we didn’t know that crazy woman and walked away mustering what dignity we could.

3. It’s a cold November morning and we are all cozy in our warm beds. That is, until Mom flings open our doors singing at the top of her lungs and announcing that it’s time to go for a picnic. We look at her like she’s lost her mind, but by then we are awake anyway so up we get and out we go for the best, and coldest, breakfast picnic I ever had.

4. My wedding was only weeks away and Mom and I were up late making an insane amount of mini muffins to freeze for the reception. At about four in the morning we decided that it was the perfect time to go have breakfast at Perkins. So after the last batch of mini muffins was out of the oven, we hopped into the car and went off for an extremely early breakfast. As we sat in the booth at Perkins I looked at Mom and I realized that we were making a special memory that I would cherish for years to come. And I was right.

An Attempt

This is my first attempt at something resembling Haiku. Don’t worry, I won’t make a habit of this- I’ll leave that to Raquel.


white plastic bag
dancing
with the wind

Painful Living

A couple of weeks ago I had to make a trip to a local pharmacy. My prescription wasn’t quite ready yet so the kids and I sat in the waiting area where the only other occupant was a big, tough-looking man. The man started looking at Malachi with a soft expression on his face and commented on how cute Malachi was (I agreed with him, of course) and then went on to say that his son was about Malachi’s age when he passed away. I was stunned. I asked him how his son had died. The man said that the baby’s mother had propped a bottle in his mouth and he had drowned in his own formula. A call from the front desk announced that the man’s prescription was ready and he got up and left. I had walked into this building just hoping to pick up my medicine and I left laden with grief.

I was driving through the city of Erie doing some errands and I see in a nearby house a small banner hanging in the window with a single star on it. Someone had left this house to fight in a war and had never returned.

I log on to Juno to check my email and I see the headlines telling me the death toll from the latest bombing in some part of the world.

I’ve watched the people I love get sick, decay and die. And I‘ve known the heartache of losing a precious baby.

I remember a woman, many years ago, telling me her thoughts on Heaven. She said that she didn’t understand much about Heaven and so she was content to enjoy living here on earth and not worry about Heaven right now.
I wish I could ask her: What earth do you live on?

Christians, we cannot afford to live in a fairy tale. This world is full of grief, pain, hatred and despair. Accept that fact. Do not hide from it or become hardened to it. Now go to this fallen world and give to them the only thing that can bring hope in this darkness- Jesus.

A Review

While my crazy out-of-town relatives were visiting I got to enjoy the experience of playing Polaris for the first time. I can honestly say that it is the best role-playing game that I have ever played. I don’t claim to be a great RPG connoisseur, but I am a creative person who loves being a part of a good story and that’s exactly what Polaris gave me.

The thing about Polaris is that the system is never a distraction, but rather a marvelous tool to use to create intriguing characters and an intricate story. Instead of there being one all powerful GM, each player has ample opportunity and is, in fact, forced to contribute to the developing plot. Even during character generation all the players have an influence on everyone else’s character sheet.

I’ve never been one to enjoy dragon slaying and cool special effects so my characters have always been the more mellow, innocent-turning-to-evil types so this game was perfect for me in that it is possible to run a full story all the way through without lots of blood and guts and other unseemly things (except demon possession, that is.) On the other hand, Seth, the game geek, was itching for a good brawl or two so when we played together we had explosions and sword fighting in the opening scene. And yet, I still loved it!

I’m not going to get into technical talk about the system, or art work, etc. If you want technical talk about this go to Seth.

All I’ve got left to say about this game is that whether you like the dramatic and romantic stories or if your tastes run more toward exploding lemmings and demon possession- you’ll like this game.

No More Goodbyes

My crazy week is finally coming to a close. I actually have some breathing time and I can make dinner now without tripping over a half a dozen kids. And I'm all bummed out about it. As crazy and chaotic as life has been here this last week I'm disapointed it's over. I suppose it would be easier to let go of all the chaos if I didn't like all those people so much.
I liked having my family mostly together for a brief period of time. I liked being an on-location aunt again (a stressed out on-location aunt, that is) and I loved being with my friends again. Yes, my siblings (that includes siblings-in-law, too) are my friends and frankly, when they leave to go back to their homes I'm lonely.
I think I have one, maybe two people that I'd call a friend that isn't related to me, but really my family is my friends and they live so far away.
Yesterday I was sporadically sobbing for short periods of time throughout the day (pregnant + over-tired= emotional woman) so naturally my thoughts were turned toward Heaven. In Heaven I'll never have to say goodbye to anyone- ever again. No more goodbyes. Can you imagine it?
Even though it was chaotic and at times stressful, having my family here in Erie was a picture of Heaven for me and saying goodbye to them was a picture of death. But death and goodbyes is exactly what Jesus died to save us from.
Someday we won't have to say goodbye anymore. Until then I'll keep enjoying these little tastes of Heaven here on earth.
I love you, my family. Thanks for being my friends.

Countdown to Chaos

Tomorrow the semi-quiet that I am enjoying now will be temporarily lost as our household will expand from four people to an even dozen. It’s not so much the number of people that’s freaking me out, but it’s the fact that we’ll have twelve people here, several of whom are curious toddlers/ babies, while trying to pull together a family reunion (did I mention that will be held at my house, too?) and during the whole of this I will be valiantly trying to not vomit on anyone as my morning sickness continues. Oh , and did I mention that Joshua is in the middle of a big, stress-inducing project at work?
I’m thinking it’s going to work out well, though. Half my houseguests will be pretty useful setting things up for the reunion and the other half is really cute so I really can’t complain.
Maybe I should be exploring my options here. Let’s see, I’ll have several live-in babysitters for a week! Hmm... maybe I could get used to this.

Good News

This last Thursday Joshua and I got to hear the sound that we had most wanted to hear- our baby's heartbeat. This little child right now looks pretty much like a blob, but it is a beautiful blob.
So far things are looking pretty good, but the doctor did notice a small blood clot or bruise thingy so we’ll need to get a follow up sonogram in a few weeks. The nurse I talked to didn’t seem worried about it at all and rather sounded like she thought I was being paranoid for wanting more information about it. I’m trying not to worry about it, but we would still appreciate prayer for this little one’s safety.
I’ve been learning a whole lot about my God during this time of uncertainty about this baby. There are a lot of times when He says no to our requests, but I think that just maybe this is one of those times that He is Saying Yes. I hope it is.

Color Me

Despite the fact that this blog is full of the stuff of pinkness, pink is not my favorite color. Brown is. Now, some may say that brown is a dull, boring color and some shades of brown are. But the color I’m talking about is the rich, deep chocolate brown that makes you think of fall and sitting by a fire with a hot mug of cocoa. I’m sure my favorite color says something profound about me (besides the fact that I like chocolate), but I’m not willing to analyze myself. So instead I’m going to pick on a bunch of you by stating what color I think best describes your personality. Ready? Here goes.

Joshua: You, my dear, are a dark blue. Dark blue has a deep, amazing beauty to it that is not obvious at first, but rather takes a second look to decipher. It also has a comforting and enriching aspect.

Gaby: Even though you are the “Orange Queen,” I have to say purple for you. Purple is a tricky color to define because there are so many different shades and interpretations of it. Some see it as a dainty color while others see it as bold. It’s the combination of these two traits that makes it so beautiful.

Raquel: I think you’re brown. Brown has gotten a bad rap for being boring and predictable, but sometimes some people see it in its true form: a rich beauty that is deep, yet simple and comforting.

Jeremy: You’re yellow. (No, I’m not calling you chicken.) Yellow can be rather alarming at first, but then once my eyes adjust to its brightness it becomes to me a cheering, uplifting color.

Seth: Black. I mean really, did you expect anything else? Black can be mournful, but also peaceful and soothing in it’s simplicity.

Crystal: You also are blue, but not too dark. Blue is safe, but in certain shades it can be very daring and shocking.

Jonathan: Green. Green surprises me a lot. It tries to sound like a boring color, but it really has a vibrancy that is unexpected and very welcome.

Carrie: Light brown. It’s not as deep as dark brown, but is rather more gentle and soft. It blends well with many colors to give them a greater richness and warmth.

James: Red and I’m talking fire engine. Red is pretty much in your face and blunt. That’s not a bad thing. And it also brings energy to whatever it touches.

Theresa: Pink- I don’t mean pastel! Pink is vibrant, bold and extremely fun. Some shades can be a little bizarre, but it mostly brings the sense of femininity with it.

Dad: You’re a tricky one. I think you’re a blue. Somewhere darker than light blue, but not as deep as dark blue. Your blue has a neat quality in that it is somewhat predictable, but with a depth that is unexpected.

Barb: Orange. Orange can be everything from soft and cozy to bright and exuberant. And whatever shade it is it always has a crazy, but lovable edge.

So there you have it. I hope I didn’t offend anyone. I’d love some feedback to see if you all think I got even close with all my artsy psycho babble. If nothing else, maybe you’ll look at colors now in a whole new way.

Cutie Pie and Rice Crispies

Weird and Freaky

Kids Say the Cutest Things... Sometimes

So there we were, sitting in our living room under the ceiling fan on a miserably hot day and I was not handling the heat well. My dear husband tries to cheer me up by saying to Lily, " Go tell Mommy she's pretty."
Lily looked at me and then looked back at Joshua and said with a slightly puzzled look on her face, " Mommy's not pretty- she's cranky."
Ah, the honesty of children.

The Last Tear

This picture is a project that I have wanted to do for some time now. Andrew Peterson’s song, “After the Last Tear Falls” is one of those songs that clings to your heart and refuses to let go. The line in the chorus: "...and we’ll look back on these tears as old tales" is what inspired this photograph. I have this picture, framed and matted, hanging in my living room with that line written on the white matting beneath the photo.

I was thinking about this picture less than a week ago while I was sitting on my couch next to my dad crying because I thought that I was going to lose another baby. Can it really be possible that I will look back on these tears- the tears of a mother mourning for her baby- as old tales? Yes. Even these tears.

“You number my wanderings;
Put my tears in Your bottle;
Are they not in Your book?”
Psalm 56:8

Well, It’s Official

I guess I must be officially pregnant now. Just a couple of nights ago I was feeling queasy so I ate a pickle with a bowl of raisin bran. At least it’s better than pickles and ice cream. And it did make me feel better.

Good News!

I’m sure most of you know this by now through various means, but I thought I should post it anyway: There is another Gardner baby on the way! God has answered our prayers. He is so good!
This pregnancy is not going as smoothly as I would have liked, though. My progesterone levels are too low and that can be a sign that a miscarriage is likely. I’ve started taking progesterone supplements to try to help my body along, but there are no guarantees. ( But what pregnancy ever has the guarantee of a healthy baby?) So even though it is entirely possible that God may take this child away from us before he is born, I am still rejoicing in this little one. And I will still say that God is good!
Thank you to all who prayed that God would give us this baby. Now I ask that you would pray that God would let us keep him.

Grace to be Sane

Yesterday was one of those days. The kids and I all had colds so Malachi was snotty and coughing, Lily was cranky, plus Joshua was in Canada for the day on business and wasn’t expected back until late. To top it all off I was trying to pull together dinner for eleven people with a surprise birthday party thrown in for good measure. So there I was, exhausted, sick, and overwhelmed with the crankiness of sick kids. It was when I was trudging upstairs from the basement lugging a basket full of laundry that I desperately prayed, “Lord, please help me. You’ve gotten me through greater trials, now just help me get dinner on the table.”
And you know what? He didn‘t just help me throw some food on the table, He made the whole evening so pleasant. The new recipe I tried for dinner turned out well, the dining room was decorated nicely, and even the margarita glasses looked festive all rimmed with sugar and topped with an orange slice. Everyone enjoyed dinner and we all had a good time with each other.

All this made me realize once again that our God not only cares about the big, high holy things we do, but also the small, seemingly unimportant things of these earthly lives. I also realized that there isn’t one thing that I do that doesn’t totally depend on God’s grace. Whether it be raising children, being a good wife, having a dinner party or simply trying to get the laundry done- all these things are done only because God wills that they are done.

I suppose the next time I’m tempted to take pride in my clean house or a successful social gathering I should remember that if God had left it totally up to me I would have flopped big time. If I believe that my God is really as sovereign as He says He is, well then I guess there’s just no room for my pride.

“A man’s heart plans his way,
But the LORD directs his steps.”
Proverbs 16:9

DQ and My Little Dog

This evening we went to the local Dairy Queen. The kids enjoyed their sundaes and I enjoyed the fact that they didn’t spill or drop them. On our walk back home we stopped to splash in a puddle which was fun until Malachi decided he was thirsty and that dirty puddle water was just the thing to quench his thirst. So there he was belly down in the parking lot behind our house, lapping up water like it was the most natural thing in the world. Well, I suppose it would be the most natural thing in the world- for a dog.
So this latest incident has further heightened my suspicions that my son is part dog. He likes to chew on shoes and play in the toilet and once when we tickled his belly, he shook his leg like crazy. Weird, huh?
That’s my boy.

Oh, the Cuteness!

Just a Thought

This is the magical time of day. As the sun sets, it sends its light to stream in through the windows to transform everything it touches to pure gold. Mind you, this doesn’t happen when the sun is awake and fresh. No, this magic only happens as the tired sun is leaving the sky for the night.
Just like “a flower in a crystal vase... lights up the room as it withers away,” somehow as some things fade away they give even more beauty than when they were first born. The same must be said for us. Is the death of a saint ugly? No, it is the final bloom of beauty that reaches around the world and up to the heavens as our Lord and His angels rejoice at the homecoming of a precious child.

A New Beginning

“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”
- Semisonic “Closing Time”

Our kitchen project is coming along nicely. As I type this my hands, arms, forehead and hair all have splotches of brown paint on them. Today I painted the doorposts between the kitchen and dinning room. Anyone who has ever lived in this house should know what that means- I painted over our height chart. Granted, this was a newer chart that had only a few names with marks next to them to gauge that person’s height, but still it was the principle of the thing. I was painting over my memories.

I know I’ve mentioned this type of thing before back when I had an email list instead of a blog, but I’m still struggling with the fact that I am the one that is changing my childhood home and undoing the work my mom did here. This has also been coming up as I’m working in our yard, trying to turn it back to grass. It’s so weird to be digging up the rocks that I helped to put there in the first place. There are some of them that I can even remember picking out at the creek because their shape or color was so extraordinary.

I know it’s okay to change things in and around this house. I know that I should change things here because this is my house now. But it still feels weird. And it still hurts sometimes.
In a way, I am glad that I get to be the one to redecorate this house. I think it’s healing for me. I’m not trying to sound all psycho-babbly or anything, but I really do think that. Sometimes I have a hard time letting go of the past so this situation really is the best for me. You can’t hold on to the past when you’re painting over it.

I still have my memories to hang on to and when those fail I can always borrow a few from my siblings. My mom’s kitchen was an amazing place and I hope that my kitchen will be just as wonderful. I hope it, too, is a place where delicious food is prepared as if by magic and a place where too many people try to cram themselves into. My mom’s kitchen doesn’t exist anymore- that is, it doesn’t exist in its material form. It is still an amazing place in our minds, hearts and memories. And no amount of paint can ever cover that up.

That's Why We Say Thanks Everyday

Thanks to James' blog post, What if there were no DSL?, I've been struck with all the blessings that God has bestowed on me. I'm sitting here at my computer (we don't have DSL by the way) just being happy that I live in a house I love with a small bunch of people that I absolutely adore. I love the life my God has given me- one I certainly don't deserve. Our God is so good it boggles the mind.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

My Therapy

I’ve always known that I’m not quite right in the head, but I am becoming more convince of it every day. For example, there’s the fact that I like to clean. I mean, it’s scary the way I enjoy dusting. Yesterday I decided that I wanted to clean really well in the living room. I moved all the furniture, cleared out all the toys that had gotten stuck under the couch, swept, “Swiffered”, and dusted. I even dusted the floor molding and yes, even the tops of picture frames. To a bystander I wonder if the room even looks that different from before I cleaned it, but to me it feels like a breath of fresh air. I think I was able to keep my sanity yesterday simply because I knew that the floor under my couch was dust free. It’s weird I know, but that’s what being a homemaker does to some people.

Risk Is Right

Security. Insurance. “Just to be on the safe side.” Sound familiar? As Americans we are obsessed with the idea of being safe and not taking any risks. Why? Because we’ve been taught that we have to succeed. Failure is deemed the worst possible thing that could possible happen. Now the question is, Are we as Christians supposed to be buying into that mindset? The answer is obvious: NO!

I’ve been reading a book by John Piper entitled Don’t Waste Your Life so a lot of these thoughts are either from this book or because of it. Something that he writes very strongly about is the idea that risk is right. Jesus calls his followers to risk everything for Him. When He first called his disciples they answered His call by leaving everything. They left their families, their jobs and their possessions behind. That’s some risk. How about that poor widow who gave her last two coins? Again, a huge risk, but Jesus says nothing but praise of her. He doesn’t launch into a speech about how she should have planned ahead and saved her money or invested it. Instead He says that she did exactly the right thing. And think of any martyr you have ever heard of. Is there any greater risk to take than to put your life on the line?

Here we are in modern America. How does this willingness to risk everything show in our lives? As I‘ve been reading Piper’s book and asking myself that same question, these are some questions I’ve come up with: How do I spend my money? Do I give enough of it away or do I hoard it and claim to be “saving for the future.” When I speak to others am I too concerned with being politically correct and not offending anyone or am I bold in my speech? Do I care too much about what others think of me or am I willing to be thought a fool for the sake of the Gospel?

I hope I’m not coming across as if I have all the answers to how every Christian should live his life. I’m clueless here. I’m simply paraphrasing what I’ve read in a book written by a man far wiser than I am. I have many more thoughts on this topic, but they will have to wait for another time. I hear my children stirring in their rooms and it’s time for me to put aside my rant and start mothering.

I’d like to leave you with a very important thought. No matter what you risk and no matter how you fail, Jesus will never leave your side. Hunger, famine, nakedness- even the sword cannot separate us from His love. He is, and will always be, our only true security.

A Long Short Story

Once upon a time there lived a boy named Carl. Carl lived with his Father and Mother in a nice, but rather small house. Carl was the kind of boy that grownups call a “nice boy.” Carl did well in school and he got along well with other kids, but he didn’t have a best friend. Sometimes, especially on rainy days, Carl felt a little lonely.

Carl’s parents were very nice people. They were the type of grownups that kids could actually talk to. Carl and his parents did talk quite a bit about lots of different things, but their favorite thing to talk about was Carl’s uncle. His uncle was very rich and lived in a great big house someplace far away. Carl didn’t know how far away it was because he had never been there. Even though his uncle wrote lots of letters to Carl, he had never once sent an invitation to come visit him. So Carl has never met his uncle, but he knew he was a very nice man. Carl and his parents, who had never been invited to the uncle’s house either, would talk about this uncle say how splendid it would be to get invited to his house and they would dream about all the nice things they would eat there and think that maybe he would give them lovely gifts- and not just on their birthday, but on every Tuesday and oh, my, how they dreamed about that house!

One Thursday afternoon when Carl came home from school ready to show his Mother his report card ( if you remember I said he did well in school so you can bet there were a lot of good marks on it) his Mother told him some surprising news. His cousin, Karen, was going to come live with them for a while. Carl had never met Karen and he wondered what she would be like.
“It’s too bad she’s not a boy,” he thought, “ we’ve could’ve been best friends.” But Carl decided that he was going to be very nice to Karen anyway. Carl was that sort of boy.

A few days later Karen arrived. Carl was surprised! He hadn’t thought his cousin would be so fun! Carl and Karen liked each other right away. Karen had such ideas about fun things to do and amazing games to make up and play and change the rules halfway through and all sorts of things that Carl had never thought to do before. Sometimes Karen did things a little backwards and thought Carl was being silly for wanting to do things the normal way.

Karen loved to splash in puddles during a rain storm. Carl had always been told that he should never go outside when it was raining or else he’d catch a cold, but Karen said that was just something that grownups have to say and no one really believed it. So every time it rained Carl and Karen were outside splashing around like their lives depended on it.
Carl was never lonely now. He almost forgot what it was like to be alone. He and Karen did everything together. It seemed that everything they did and every game they played was better because Karen was with him. She somehow made the sky bluer and the rain wetter and the air was always sweeter when it whipped her hair about. She would tell Carl stories about how trees were really people in disguise and Carl knew she must be right because when she told him where to look for their eyes and noses and fingers he always saw them right where they should be.
“Karen,” said Carl one day after they had been singing with an old maple tree, “ Will we always be best friends? No matter what?”
“Oh, Carl,” said Karen, “Of course we will. No matter what.” And they shook hands on it.

One day- quite a long while after Karen had first come to stay- Carl was walking home from school carrying a large rock that he had found at the playground and he knew Karen would love it and get very excited about it. The rock was rather heavy and his arms were getting tired, but he didn’t mind at all. He couldn’t wait to give it to Karen and see her eyes light up as she thanked him. And then she’d drag him to the backyard and show him exactly where to put it and tell him that it was the most beautiful rock she had ever seen. Carl was thinking about all this as he walked in his front door. His Mother met him in the entryway with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Carl, Karen isn’t here anymore. She got an invitation from your uncle to go and live with him and she had to leave right away.” Carl was stunned. He dropped the rock. It fell on his left foot, but he didn’t feel it. He turned and ran out the door. He climbed their favorite tree and cried for a long time. Eventually he went back to his house for supper even though he wasn’t hungry.

As the days passed Carl tried to get used to not having Karen with him anymore, but as hard as he tried he couldn’t do it. Nothing was the same without her. The trees hid their faces and didn’t talk to him anymore and when it rained the puddles didn’t ask to be splashed in. Carl tried to jump in a few, but he just got wet. He tried to not be mad at his uncle for taking Karen away. After all, he could invited whomever he wanted. But it just didn’t seem fair. Carl remembered when he and Karen would sit by the pond and talk about how nice it would be if they got invited to go to their uncle’s house together. Karen had always heard about their uncle the same as Carl had and they both thought that his house must be the nicest place in the world. And now Karen got to go live there and Carl didn’t.

One day Carl had to stay home from school because he had a headache. He tried not to think about the fun games Karen would have thought up to keep him from getting bored while he was sick. Instead he looked through all the letters his uncle had ever sent him and read and reread all the parts that talked about how nice his house was. Carl’s Mother came into his room holding a tray with his lunch on it. She set the tray on his bed, kissed his forehead, asked if he needed anything else and left the room. Carl started to eat his lunch and was surprised to see an envelope sitting on his lunch tray. It looked like a letter addressed to him. It was from his uncle! He ripped it open thinking that just maybe it had some news about how Karen was and if she missed him and if she was coming back soon. Imagine his surprise when he saw that it wasn’t a letter at all- it was an invitation! A plain white card with nine words written on it: “Come, my boy, it is your turn at last.”

Carl jumped out of bed not even noticing that his headache was gone. He ran to get his suitcase from his closet and then suddenly realized that there wasn’t anything he wanted to bring with him. He ran downstairs to the front door and throwing it open, he ran outside.
The next thing that happened was very strange. Instead running on the sidewalk in front of his house, as Carl had expected to be, he was running across a grassy field and his neighborhood was nowhere in sight. Instead there was only one large house some distance away and it was toward this that Carl was running.

As Carl was running he started to notice the strange new surroundings. The grass he was running on was softer and greener than any grass he had ever seen before and the sky above him was bluer and closer than the sky he was used to. There were small ponds scattered around with lush exotic looking flowers surrounding them. The house Carl was running toward was bigger than he had thought at first- it was more like a mansion really, but not stuffy and stern like some mansions can be. This mansion was airy and friendly and when the sunlight hit it the house looked like a bright cloud floating in the blue sky.

The other thing Carl noticed was the enormous amount of people that were walking about and talking in small groups and some were sitting by the ponds dipping their feet in the cool, clear water. As Carl got closer all the people stopped whatever they were doing to look at him and they all smiled and waved. Some even called things to him, but he wasn’t quite close enough to hear what they said. A couple people started cheering when they saw him, but he had no idea why. And then he didn’t care why because there, straight ahead, running toward him with her hair streaming, was Karen. He started running even faster and in less time than it takes to write it all down he was hugging her and she was hugging him and saying, “You’re here at last! It’s even better than we imagined it! The trees here dance and the flowers smile all day long! Look at this rocks here- did you ever think it possible? Even the pebbles look like diamonds! Carl, I’ve made something for you! Come on, let me show you-”
But she broke off what she was saying because walking toward them was the owner of the beautiful house and the gardens and the stones that looked like diamonds- their uncle.

As his uncle got closer Carl could see that he was smiling. And it wasn’t that polite smile that grownups sometimes do, but a real smile, the kind that hurts your face if you do it for too long. Carl knew that smile was just for him. Now he knew why he had wanted to come to this house so much. It wasn’t the house or the nice things and it wasn’t even Karen. The real reason Carl had wanted to get to this house was to see that smile. Carl walked slowly toward his uncle and sank to his knees, burying his face in grass before his uncle‘s feet.
“Thank you,” Carl whispered, “thank you.”

My Thoughts

(This is one of those posts that I'm not too sure about posting. Sometimes being honest is a scary thing.)

Mother’s day is in two days. I find that I am having a hard time coming up with the right words to express how I feel about that day so I will have to rely on pictures and quotes to speak for me.

Lay down your sweet and weary head
Night is falling- you have come to journey’s end
Sleep now and dream of the ones that came before
They are calling from across the distant shore

Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see- all of your fears will pass away
Safe in my arms
You’re only sleeping

What can you see on the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea a pale moon rises
The ships have come to carry you home

And all will turn to silver glass
A light on the water
All souls pass

Hope fades into the world of night
Through shadows falling
Out of memory and time
Don’t say we have come now to the end
White shores are calling
You and I will meet again

And you’ll be here in my arms
Just sleeping

-From the Return of the King soundtrack





I hate the taste of tears
It makes me think of pain
Of pieces of my shattered heart
Flowing through my veins


I guess what I’m trying to say is this: I hurt. I miss my mommy. I hate Mother’s day.
Well, I guess I can find the words to express how I feel. I don’t think I’ll always feel like this. Perhaps a day will come that my heart won’t shrivel up at the sound of Mother’s day’s approach. Maybe someday, but not today.

A Prayer Request

As you, my faithful readers, well know my husband, Joshua, and I have two beautiful little kids. And you also know that we are eagerly anticipating the day that God will add more little tykes to our family. Here’s where it gets complicated. Late last year, in the beginning of October I had a tubal pregnancy and we lost that little baby. Any medical professional will tell you that once someone has an ectopic pregnancy the chances of it happening again are greater than in someone who has never experienced one. So here I am, impatient to be holding a little baby again and yet I’m scared. What if it happens again?

Naturally, I’ve been praying about this a lot. The more I pray the more Jehovah has been giving me peace. I keep telling myself to trust Him- He’s never failed me yet. But what I HAVEN’T been saying to myself is: “ Don’t worry, God won’t let it happen again.” Because you see, it may very well happen again. I am not saying this out of bitterness or despair, but simply out of honesty. Yes, it may be my loving Father’s will that my heart break again as we lose another baby. It may be His will that Joshua and I never again know the joy of holding a newborn child of ours. But then perhaps it is His will that we will be blessed with thirteen more healthy babies that will grow into Godly disciples. I don’t have a clue what He has planned for our family, but I do know that whatever it is will more beautiful than I can imagine. And I need to remember that beautiful does not always mean painless.

So as I have been praying for a healthy baby to hold and love I’ve also been praying that God would do whatever is in His perfect will to do. And I pray for the grace to be able to accept it.

Having opened my heart to you all and showed you my fears, will you please pray for us? Pray that we really would trust Jehovah with the future of this family. Pray also that He would indeed grant us our desire for another child. And then watch with us as we wait to see what our good God will do.

It Has Begun!

The desire to redo our kitchen has carried on through many generations- well, two at least. But, behold, just a few weeks ago the change has finally begun! We have started with the sink area and are going to slowly work our way around the rest of the room. It’s going to take some time, but it will be well worth it!
( My siblings and Jeremy, please try to control your emotions. I know this transformation means almost as much to you as it does to me. )


Before
After





It's so shiny isn't it?