Easter

My daughter looked at me during the course of our Easter celebration and said, "Mom, I can't remember last Easter. What did we do?"

Hm. I remembered we went to church at night that Sunday, but that was it. 

"I don't remember," I answered. 

"Aw," she said, sadly.

I decided this was incentive enough to document this Easter. And life more, really. I need to do that for them, and for me. 

So this was Easter. 

We started off at church with the 8 am service. I liked this much better than the night church we did last year. I think I would love a sunrise service even. I'm fine with our church not offering that - I just like the "early" morning aspect of being at church celebrating on Resurrection Sunday. I think being worshipping as the sun rises would be something I'd like to try one day.

Worship was so sweet. A long, intensive study in my own Bible study time in the weeks before Easter  of the time in Jesus' life between the anointing of Him in Bethany until His ascension had been simply amazing. I hope to write another post about that soon, so I won't say much about it now, but all of that study had me so excited to worship with other believers about the beautiful life saving miracle of that Sunday morning. 

It was good. 

I had gotten smart and done most of the pre-cooking for our brunch on Saturday. I even put the food in the oven Sunday morning before we left for church, and set the timer for the oven to come on an hour before we got home so that everything would be heated up and almost ready for us to eat. I'm not sure what possessed me to be so organized and well planned. (It was a total accident, I assure you.) 

 My sweet sister cooked the bacon. It's her job every year, we figured out. She doesn't mind. She's good at it. 

My daughter told me that one of her friend's mom makes home-made orange rolls. While I'm sure that this makes me a bad mother, Sister Schubert's orange rolls are one of my most favorite things in the world. So much so that I took a picture of them. 

They are my favorite. 

I think I said that already. 

We ate and talked and even Bella got to be in on the conversation.

She got no orange rolls, though. I'm sure this made her sad.

She even looks a little sad. 

I think I was a little tired by this point. It was all that cooking the day before. 

And the 7 hours of church I went to on Friday night.

It was also a continuation of my birthday.

 That is always a good thing. 

After brunch, we just relaxed and talked some more. 

The middle kid held his own in a game of Scrabble against the middle sister, with some help from her sweet husband. 

Mimi and the girl kid planned a wedding with a wedding planning DS game. 

They both enjoyed that. 

I'm not sure how much of a contribution the baby kid was to the planning of the nuptials, but he enjoyed the snuggling. 

He then decided that playing Cooties with Dad was a better option. 

They both ended up making the same face. 

After pursuing Twitter, I saw so many sweet family pictures of friends in their Easter outfits. 

I recalled the days when I not only preplanned the kids' outfits, but took time to document them in said outfits. 

Like this:

And this remains my all time favorite Easter picture of all time. (It's worth saying "all time" twice) This is so our family. And this is also probably the reason that I stopped taking Easter pictures. 

But I'm glad I have this one. 

It's my favorite. 

I love it so much that I can't even stop looking at it. 

Anyway...

This is how we do family pictures now:

That little kid (trying to dart out of the picture there on the left) isn't the best photographer, but he's still hilariously funny. 

And a stinker. When it was time to get dressed Sunday morning, instead of just letting the boys get dressed out of their "church clothes drawer" (which is really just nicer shorts and tee shirts) I dug out some nice pants and shirts for a change. 

You know, since it was Easter. 

This kid didn't want to wear his "Easter pants" and shirt. After a few minutes of a struggle, I said, "FINE" and he went and got some of his usual church clothes. Then he couldn't get the shorts buttoned and in my quick frustration in trying to get them buttoned, I bled all over his shorts and shirt. (Note to self, when you cook for Easter the day before, and you decide to use the nice, new sharp knives that a sweet friend gave you instead of the dull knives you got as a wedding present 16 years ago, they will probably actually slice things quickly and easily instead of you having to saw through things with muscle and force. This also includes, unfortunately, your finger that you failed to remove from the path of the knife that will even the next day still bleed without a second's notice.) After this speed bump in the dressing game, I lost my patience and sweetly said yelled, "GO PUT ON THE EASTER PANTS AND SHIRT" and then locked myself in my room so I could brush my hair and teeth and smash myself in my own new birthday/Easter dress and get to church before it was over. 

I just wanted that documented for posterity's sake. 

The family left late in the afternoon, and we all changed and headed outside. I went for a run to try to work off some of the 8.3 million calories I had just consumed (thank you, Sister Schubert) and then collapsed into my new birthday hammock with my new book that the nice people at the 7 hour church service gave out. 

It was a little light reading. 

With a few thoughts to ponder. 

The guys played football and grilled out hot dogs and hamburgers and loved on the neighborhood cat that insists on thinking that she lives here. 

Not everyone is okay with her thinking that. 

That stinky little kid, now safely wearing clothes of his choice, and I laughed and played. 

And showed each other our muscles. 

Then this big kid came home from a neighborhood friend's house, and I wondered if she grew in the couple of hours that she was gone. 

This is also another post brewing in my head. 

The day ended with some tears from a way too tired kid, but I got to snuggle a sleepy, warm person who will all too soon be gone. 

I won't write that post yet. 

It was a sweet, precious Resurrection Sunday. I'm so thankful for God's gift to us in Christ, and for Christ's obedience to His Father in giving His life on the cross. It's the only reason I live. And I'm eternally grateful. 

Spring Break

I was ready for Spring Break. We all needed some down time with friends. We started off the week with a St. Patrick's Day parade. 

We got ready to take our annual St. Patrick's Day picture. I jokingly said, "Suck it in, ladies."  One of the husbands, who shall remain nameless, said, "You all need to suck it in some more..." Our response was caught on camera. (I may mention that the one who looks least shocked is probably the wife of the perpetrator.)

We let him live long enough to get our photo. 

One of my kids is pretty scared of parades. Still. 

The boys were happier than they appear on camera. I promise. 

After the parade, the kids and I had Mexican with our sweet friend. Yes, Mexican. On St. Patrick's Day. Makes sense, right?

Later in the week, we had lunch and a water play date.

 Somebody was a little nervous about getting his shorts wet. That didn't last for long, and soon he was drenched. (A better mother would have thought to put the kids in bathing suits, but since ours were still safely packed in the attic, we had no bathing suits.)

All of the kids got new, wonderful and amazing shoes. I'm a little jealous. I think. 

We got to visit a friend in the hospital, and this picture just made me really happy. 

Another day we got to go to the airport and pick up a sweet friend. The kids thought this was the coolest thing ever. 

I'll probably get in trouble for this one, but I got some girl time too. It may have involved our favorite - key lime pie. 

The week concluded with a party to celebrate a sweet friend who is about to move to another country. It was in a loft downtown. I took tons of pictures that I'll put in another post, but this is my favorite. And I spent about 2.5 seconds daydreaming about living in a loft like this one. Okay fine, maybe a tad longer. 

I'm not going to talk about her leaving yet. But it was a great party. 

There was also a lot of playing football in the backyard and board games with Daddy. There was sleeping in and coffee/play dates dates with friends. There was a grown up dinner and movie date night. There was even some spring cleaning and organizing. It was good to have a break from school and the routine. Hopefully we got the rest we needed to push through the last part of the school year, working hard to finish out the year strongly. 

I may have said that with more hope and confidence than I feel. 

Anyway, it was a good week. And I'm eternally thankful for good friends.

New Game Plan

My time exercising in the morning is most precious. It enables me to breathe. {figuratively}

I was a little surprised this morning to feel the Spirit urging me to shake things up a bit. 

I have tried to be a runner several times, and while I love most everything about running, I have realized that I am not destined to be a runner. 

Which is fine with me.

But last week I needed to run.

And I did. A lot.

And I sort of loved it again. 

And so today, as I prayed and worshiped, I felt the Lord, dare I say telling me, to alternate running with fast walking up the two hills in my neighborhood.

Huh. 

But I obeyed.

Strength mixed with endurance

I recognized that immediately.

And as I struggle with new levels of faith and trust, I also saw the spiritual implications. 

Strength of faith/trust/hope. Exercising my faith. Working it out, along with my salvation. Feeling it pushed and pulled and stretched and worked out until it's exhausted. 

Strength

Grow my faith.

Make it strong. 

I can't stop thinking about the woman in Matthew 15:21-28.

Her faith was so strong, and Jesus praised her for it. 

Ah, to have my faith praised by Christ...

And endurance

The ability to run this long, hard race. 

We learned Hebrews 12 in song in school a couple of weeks ago. I sing it at the top of my lungs:

Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

      For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. 

Run. 

And then run some more. And keep running. 

And much like most every morning I huff, "This might kill me..." I think the same about this walk with Him. 

But oh, He is faithful. And wise. And perfect. And worthy of complete trust. And faith. And I will yet hope in Him.

And music not only also helps me breathe, it helps me exercise. This is what I am currently addicted to. This album is free. Please get it. 

{I played "Revelator" over and over and over again this morning}

He will provide

It was the first anniversary of her death. 

She would keep vigil at her graveside for the day. 

We gathered at a friend's house to keep each other company. We would take turns going to sit with her while our kids played together at the house.

It was a subdued day.

I watched another friend, her head bent over her adoption paperwork. 

That was a familiar ache, but there was no time for my aches today. Today was about her. 

Another friend took the first turn. I saw the sadness in her eyes, but there was a tiny bit of fear too. To watch someone you love grieve is one of the most helpless and horrible feelings ever. 

She brushed that aside and said, "I'm going to take her some food. She'll be hungry. Maybe."

I agreed. 

She headed out and I set out to clean her kitchen. I needed to stay busy and my love of cleaning her kitchen always made us laugh.

 Well, other days it did. I didn't feel much like laughing today.

I busied myself with the cleaning and taking care for the kids. The house full of voices and laughter was comforting. I texted her to check on things.

She's okay. 

I was thankful for that. I scrubbed and prayed. More.

Soon she texted, "I'm on the way home. Your turn."

I prayed more.

As the van approached the cemetery, the tears spilled. The memories of the week a year ago flashed like a slide show. I flicked away the tears in frustration. I didn't need to be weepy. That wouldn't help.

My phone sounded and I looked down at the text.

Take an umbrella. She's getting sunburned. 

I laughed with tears still on my cheeks. An umbrella? That sounded funny on this cloudless day. But I smiled at the consideration. 

So sweet. 

I climbed out of the van bumping the umbrella on the door frame. The sight of her sitting by the grave made me catch my breath. No mother should ever ever have to sit by her child's grave. The anger welled in me. Sin. Death. 

I raged at it all as I walked towards her. 

I sat down and looked at her. Her smile was sweet and sad. 

I looked at the new head stone. It was beautiful. There were balloons that said "Happy Birthday" dancing in the wind. She was two years old for only a couple of days. We celebrated her third birthday without her. 

I breathed deep and turned back.

"Did you eat?"

She nodded yes. 

We sat for a bit, not talking. It's easy to do that with her and I love it. 

I looked up and her mom was walking across the grass. She sat and we allowed her some quiet time to soak it all in. Soon another friend came. We all sat.

I thought of Job and his friends. Before they started talking and ruined everything, they sat with him for seven days in complete silence. That had to feel good. Comforting. 

Is that an umbrella? 

A giggle escaped me before I could stop it. 

"Well, she told me to bring it. She said you would get sunburned sitting out here."

I opened it over my friend, and she said, "That does feel better." 

We talked and conversation flowed. We actually laughed and talked. The knot of fear loosened in me. She was comforted. Hurting, sad and forever missing her girl, but comforted.

As laughter floated across the wind, I turned to look across all the head stones. 

You comforted her. You took her through it all. And You will carry her more. You did it. You were faithful. You provided. You were sovereign over every step of the way. You never let her falter. She's still here-a testimony to Your grace. Your sustaining power...

I didn't want to say the words aloud. Not right then. But the praise soared in me. I saw her a year ago. I saw the horror and fear and panic.

Today I saw longing mixed with comfort. 

I think his bright blonde hair caught my attention first. It was bright in the sunshine. I had seen him out of the corner of my eye on the lawn mower as he tended to the grass. Now he was purposefully walking towards us. He shyly but intentionally walked up to us. It was only as he got to us that I saw four bottles of water in his hands. They were cold and the water from the condensation dripped onto the grass.

"I thought you might need these," he said with the same shyness he had approached us with. 

They said thank you but I only choked back tears. The sweetness of the gesture caught my words in my throat. This sweet young man spent his day with death, yet the sight of grief still moved him to kind action. He wasn't hardened by it. 

I still think of him and hope he's still not hardened, if he's still there.

The icy water was refreshing and comforting. I rubbed my finger along the bottle watching the drips running along my finger. 

You are tangible. You care for us this way. With these gestures. Let me always see them as being from You...

We laughed more. Talked about her. And other things. Silly things. Some theology, as per our usual. We sat quietly. We took turns holding the umbrella. 

I went, got my kids and came back. Her kids came. We sat more. My kids paused by the grave. The girl kid longer than the boys. They took off again, as kids do. They played hide and seek among the head stones. Part of me wanted to tell them not to. To be respectful. 

But then I thought how beautiful. How normal. Death, as much a part of life as birth. To see it as a normal part of life. To know that one day it will be conquered. Until then to see it as something to live with. They ran and chased and rolled down the hill and laughed, their cheeks flushed red by the sun and their movement. As their voices bounced off the hard stone monuments to lives lived and monuments to memories of cherished loved ones, I resolved to love them more. Treasure them more. 

To take nothing for granted. 

Her husband arrived after work. I gave them some time as I wandered through the head stones, reading and praying. 

Then it was time to go. 

The van drove toward home. We were all quiet, the kids tired from a day with friends, me reflecting on the events of the day. It was much easier than I had anticipated. 

Oh, You were here. You came before us. It was all You...

I couldn't stop thanking Him for is provision. I couldn't stop thanking Him for taking care of her. For caring for all of them. 

Later. It occurred to me that He was tangible in so many ways that day.

I called her. I didn't usually. Neither of us like to talk on the phone.

"Did you notice how He cared for you?" I asked. "You got there with nothing. He brought everything you needed. A blanket. Food. Water. Friends. Laughter. And even a stinking umbrella to keep off the sun..."

Her laugh. She agreed.

Me? I prepare for everything. I pack an arsenal. Prepared for every circumstance. Water, snacks, a change of clothes...

Had it been me that day, I would have had a cooler filled with snacks and water and anything else I would have needed for the day.

She stepped out with nothing. 

And He provided.

It was little. Small details. Not a big deal. But to me, it spoke volumes. 

I so prepare for any situation that I sometimes rob myself of the value of seeing Him provide.

She agreed. She said she used to be that way, but the five kids had removed some of that ability to over prepare for everything. You have to go with the flow more with five kids, she said. 

I think of that day often. As I seek to trust Him more to provide for me and those I love, He calls me to remember all the ways I've seen Him provide in the past. I think of the umbrella. I think of the sweet man with water. I think of the food and blanket and laughter.

He will provide. And maybe He provides most when we step outside of trying to provide for ourselves - when we step out stripped of anything we could do for ourselves and ask Him to provide. Perhaps He's waiting for us to stop trying to provide for ourselves and waiting on us to collapse at His feet and say through muffled tears, 

You do it. You care for me. 

And He will. I've seen it. More times than I could ever recount. He will. 

My new favorite homeschool book

We finished The Jesus Storybook Bible in school earlier this year, and I wanted something else to follow it up with that my five year old could relate to. 

On Black Friday, thanks to one of my favorite blogs, I found some amazing Black Friday deals, including one on something called The Gospel Story Bible. 

I wasn't sure it was going to be a wise purchase, but it was such a good deal, I decided to give it a chance. 

I love this book. 

I like it even more than The Jesus Storybook Bible. There are more stories from the Bible, and I love how the author weaves the gospel through each of these stories. I love that it has questions at the end of each story to remind me to ask to see if the story resonated with the kids. Or if they heard it. Not that this ever happens here. They listen with bated breath to everything I say in school. 

Anyway. 

The artsy part of me is in love with the illustrations in this book. I am not fond of illustrations of Jesus at all, but these illustrations are on the more abstract side of things and don't appear to be attempting to depict an accurate image of Christ. This makes me happy. Or at least happier than I would be with other typical illustrations.

But that's a pet peeve of mine, so we can probably ignore that all together. 

The point is that this is a wonderful addition to our homeschool library, but I would buy it even if I didn't homeschool.