Thanksgiving 2012

Thanksgiving this year was special, since it was also Laney's birthday. I wanted the day to be special for her but also be a meaningful Thanksgiving.

We started by cooking on Wednesday. She loves to cook and wanted to cook her own birthday cake. 

Can I say that I adore having big kids?

And this is what our kitchen looks like when we cook. We are messy, messy cooks!

Thanksgiving morning dawned beautifully, and I went for a run. Partially to wake up enough so I could start cooking and partially because I'm sort of beginning to (gasp) enjoy running. 

Or what I probably still need to call "running." 

But gosh the trees. I am already beginning to mourn the passing of autumn. My favorite. 

I came home from the run to find the two musical members of our family having a voice/guitar lesson/practice session.

Daddy was home for four solid days, except for one quick gig one night. The kids were beside themselves with excitement. 

I had gotten a brilliant idea for my cupcake holder, and I sent the boys out in their pajamas to collect pine cones. 

We've been studying birds in school, and we used some of the pine cones to make bird feeders to place around the yard in hopes of attracting some birds we could study.

Here's hoping we attract birds and not squirrels. 

Now I just love the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. When I was in labor, on Thanksgiving Day, we had the parade on. My regular doctor was snow skiing in Colorado for the Thanksgiving holiday, but thankfully I really loved the doctor that was on call. At one point he paused in front of the television with his arms crossed on his chest, and after watching for a few minutes he said, "Does anyone really watch this stuff?"

Allen cleared his throat nervously and nodded in my direction. Thankfully I was mid-contraction and unable to speak at that moment. The doc's eyes got wide and he scooted out the door before I recovered enough to respond.

Soon after, in a fit of labor-induced emotion, I nearly sobbed, "I love the parade. Can we name the baby 'Macy'?"

Allen laughed and said, "Well, yes, if you want to..." 

I sniffed and cried, "Okay. I think I want to."

When she arrived, I decided to go with our original plan of naming her Elane Sue (after my grandmother) and calling her "Laney."

I have to tell her this story every year though.

Our family tradition is to have a big breakfast and watch part of the parade. 

After quickly eating, I head back to the kitchen to watch it in there while I cook. I annoy everyone by yelling periodically, "Look! It's Sesame Street! You guys used to love this part! Look! It's Dora! Remember when you loved Dora, Laney? Look! It's a marching band! My favorite!..."

This goes on until it's over. 

My sweet, patient family.

This year, since it was Laney's birthday, the boys wanted to interrupt our usual traditions to give Laney their presents. They had chosen, and wrapped them, themselves. And they just could't wait. to give them to her. 

Zane knew she wanted a doorbell for her room. 

She loved it. 

Jude chose her art supplies. 

He really knows her love language. Her face says it all. 

Then I got back down to business. 

We alternate Thanksgiving between my in-laws and my family. This year was my family's turn, and since my mom had to work until the late afternoon, we decided to have Thanksgiving dinner this year. I was really excited about this. 

It worked out really well, and I like it better than having Thanksgiving lunch. I had more time to get everything ready, we had time to relax some and I actually had time to do some fun table decorating, which is my favorite. Well, after the cooking and the eating anyway...

We had to take some birthday portraits. (We thought we were funny too.)

Then the family arrived!

The sisters. The wine is called "Middle Sister" and it had a cute picture of "us" on it. 

We were amused by it...

Insert us eating a really good dinner here. It was fabulous. Everyone contributed to the dinner, and it was all just wonderful.

Then it was birthday cake time!

Okay, my mom is in here too, but evidently I can't sing and take pictures very well and you can't see her, unfortunately.

Since it was Laney's birthday, we thought it would be fun to go see a movie after dinner. She chose "Brave" which just happened to be at the dollar theater. 

My sweet mama's girl. That made me very happy!!! 

We ended the day exhausted but happy. 

The next day, Friday, was my recovery day. We ate leftovers and watched movies and snuggled and were just big lazy bums. 

Oh, and my sister came over and the hubs and I had a date to the thrift store. That was pretty much awesome. 

Saturday was college football day. After a day of rest I was in cooking mode again, and I cooked up a storm. We ate and watched football and hung out all day. 

It was wonderful.

And it was finally cold enough for another of my favorite things:

The boys liked being near the fire, but it "burned their eyes." Thankfully they had their safety goggles to put on. 

This helped tremendously, they said.

Thank goodness for that. 

One last leftovers dinner. 

I adore leftovers. 

Now there's nothing left and the kitchen is all clean. 

I'm sort of sad about that. 

Sunday was a sweet day of fellowship with our faith family which I am so profoundly thankful for. I then had a two hour nap. The day ended with another fire and time for me to document all of this loveliness here. 

None of us are ready to get back to the real world. I love Thanksgiving so much. It's one of my favorite holidays. I keep the table decorated through this last week of November and keep celebrating this month I love so much. I'm not ready for December yet. Thankfully we have another week of celebrating November!

It was a wonderful Thanksgiving. The Lord is always faithful. 

Caverns Field Trip

I have always wanted to go to some caverns that aren't too far from our house. Luckily one of our  homeschool groups scheduled a field trip there. I was probably a little more excited than the kids were...

It looked like we were driving into the end of the world...

This just made me happy.

This is clear (and gray) quartz. We were deep embedded of our study of Revelation at the time of this field trip, and these just reminded me of Revelation 21.

I was slightly ready to stop seeing Revelation everywhere.

This is your standard postcard shot. 

I considered getting one of these for the backyard.

The kids "panned" for gems. It was fun and all the kids enjoyed it. This also reminds me that we were supposed to study out the different gems we got that day.

Um, yeah. Homeschool field trip fail. 

The girl kid found some clear glasses in the gift shop and asked me to get them for her. I hesitated, but they were only three dollars and since she was trying to be just like her mother, how could I resist?

That is going to come to a screeching halt soon enough, so why not encourage it for the short time it lasts?

This was the perfect time of year for this field trip. The scenery was breathtaking. 

Waiting to go in the caverns. This shot was accidental, but it makes me terrifically happy. 

So. Walking down into these caverns was simply an assault on all of my senses. At once. It was amazing. I needed a few minutes to take it all in. It was just surreal. We sat through an informational lecture that was really interesting. They told the history of this particular cavern and a lot of information about the rock formations and things like that. I really liked all of that.

Then. They did this thing called "Total Darkness." I have not in my adult life been scared of much, but when they turned off all of those lights, I was slightly panicked. Part of it was because I also have never experienced dark that all encompassing. You could almost feel it. They kids did fine. I was about twenty seconds away from turning on my cell phone and ruining it for everyone. 

I am fine with never doing that again.

I'm afraid of the dark. That dark. Who knew?

And back to Revelation for a second. (I know. I was ready to be done thinking about Revelation too.) When reading and studying the bowls and seals and wrath and destruction, the overthinking planning part of my brain thought (seriously) "Where would I go? Where could the family go?" And I thought of caverns like these. "We'd be safe there! From the fire falling from the sky! From the stinging locust! From the drunk lady on the..." Never mind. Really. 

Trust me. I hear the absurdity of that. But it's true. And after the "Total Darkness" debacle, I literally thought, "Well, that won't work." I mean, we wouldn't have cell phones for long, and the flash light batteries wouldn't last long and then what would we do? And this cavern didn't have the water supply that we would need, although all the water is going to dry up anyway...

As ridiculous as it sounds, I'm glad I got to see this fleshed out. I saw how silly it was to try to plan my way out of Revelation.

I'm only typing this all out to (hopefully) remind myself later how ludicrous it is to try to over plan... anything.

So we'll just call this a lesson learned.    

Ahem.

Anyway...

We saw a "light show," which was Christmas themed. 

We toured the caverns, which was really cool. 

After that the kids did a huge maze. I refused to go in. I told one of my friend's husbands that I already knew I wasn't a fan of mazes. I am not a fan of being lost. I sort of do that in real life, literally and metaphorically, enough. I'm sure it's not a control thing at all...

Ahem.

How about a day where you get to face all of your ridiculous fears?

He joked after I confessed my Total Darkness trauma that we could have a high tower that overlooked a pit of snakes and we could just have a cornucopia of realized fears. 

That made me laugh. Except I'm not afraid of heights and I'm definitely not afraid of snakes. But dang that darkness nearly did me in. 

Anyway, this nice daddy took about 2,962 kids into the maze by himself while the mamas sat outside and had some good conversation. (Insert me being deeply thankful and blessed by the mamas God has so graciously placed in my life.)

Since we had a crazy busy day this day, we headed out shortly after. This was a great trip, and I'm thinking a cavern tour might be in my future. As long as I can figure out this darkness thing. And while I'm not studying Revelation. We can all be thankful that I'm not studying Revelation again for a little while. 

Goodness. 

Laney is 11

It was 11 years ago tonight. 

A rough couple of weeks were coming to a close. 

I had gone to my normal doctor's appointment not expecting anything out of the ordinary. I had seen a new doctor, and after examining me, she exclaimed  "You're four and a half centimeters! You need to go home and get your bags packed because I'm probably going to see you back here at the hospital tonight to deliver this baby..."

I called my husband before I had even left the parking lot and asked him to get off work early and come home as soon as possible. I called my mom and asked her to come to the house when she got off work too.

I went home to a quiet house and finished packing my hospital bag. I was crying, a ball of nervous excitement. I knew it was my last night as a person that wasn't a mother. I sat down to wait on my husband and mom to get to the house. They arrived. We all sat in the living room and waited.

And nothing happened.

Mom went home and I went to bed, fully expecting to wake up in the middle of the night in labor.

I didn't.

Matter of fact, I didn't go into labor for two and a half more weeks.

That was a long two and a half weeks. 

I sort of gave up on ever going into labor.

Thanksgiving approached and my sister-in-law sweetly excused me from doing anything except showing up to her house. The night before Thanksgiving day we got pizza and the husband kindly watched "Legally Blonde" with me. I went to bed and slept for about an hour before I woke up with excruciating heartburn. I headed downstairs for some milk and met Allen on the stairs as he was coming up to bed. After the glass of milk I returned to bed only to find that I could not get comfortable. I tossed and turned and finally realized that I was contracting and doing so pretty regularly.

I didn't want to wake up the sleeping husband who had just fallen asleep. I turned on the television and started watching Thanksgiving episodes of old sitcoms. After a couple of hours of timing the contractons they had stayed regular, and  I knew I had to wake him up even though he had only been asleep for a short time.

We headed to the hospital and waited until 7 am to call the family.

Soon twelve family members were all in one waiting room waiting on our first child and the first grandchild, and great-grandchild, to be born.

They waited until 5:39 that afternoon.

I apologized profusely. That was a long wait.

It was worth it, though. 

I got my daughter. 

There aren't words to describe how much I love this girl. She is my heart. She takes me to the edge of my sanity. She delights me and challenges me and sanctifies me and teaches me and loves me and makes me laugh. I love being her mother and I pray that she will always be my friend. I pray that she will always be thankful that the Lord gave me to her as her mother. 

As we approach these preteen years, I sometimes find myself eyeing her with complete trepidation. We are alike enough to completely clash some days, but for the most part our desire to stay in harmony outweighs any lasting conflict. 

There are days I miss the baby that she was, but I can honestly say that I like being her mom more with each passing day. She's complex and smart. The person that she is growing into truly amazes me. She is far smarter that I ever was at her age, and I have to work hard to stay a few steps ahead of her even now. I stay amazed at how easily she retains information and how much she loves to learn. 

She is funny and makes me laugh. She is a complete klutz just like her mother. She is musical just like her daddy. She is responsible and takes care of me and her brothers too. She has her bad days, and she will always have some struggles deep within. She will have to work harder at some things than her brothers will, and there are days I pray fervently that she follows Christ all her life. 

She had a depth of spiritual knowledge that makes me so thankful for the work the Lord has done in her. I'm grateful that He saved her. I'm thankful for the work He has done in her and pray that work continues. 

I also love that this year she has a "real" birthday - she will always be a Thanksgiving baby. 

She had her voice recital last week. She did really well considering we all questioned whether or not she would actually go through with it. As I watched her with her friends on stage doing what she loves, I was proud and scared too. She's growing up. My days of parenting her are becoming less and less. I pray that she has a good foundation that will last her a lifetime. 

I'm also just really really glad that I get to be her mom.

This is how you lose your soul

It was August. 

We had left our beach vacation after a mere 36 hours into it due to a hurricane headed straight for our condo. 

The husband was starting a new business, and he decided that since we were home, there was work he really needed to get done.

So the kids and I hung out at the house. For nearly a week.

We had fun, but we were a little out of sorts. Not bored, but just sort of stir crazy.

I'm glad now looking back that we rested for a bit.

Mainly because a hurricane of a different kind was brewing, and it was headed straight for us.

Busyness. 

The insane sort of busyness that slowly bleeds your soul dry.

And I was unprepared for it. 

I remember us leaving our first flag football practice and seeing one of the dads running across the parking lot, two small boys in tow. He was yelling over his shoulder, "We have to hurry! We have another practice across town and we're late...!"

We got into our van and inched our way out of the parking lot with all of the other families that had come to a sport practice of one kind or another and finally merged onto the main road clogged with weary commuters trying to slowly make their way home, and as we barely creeped down the road I thought, 

This is how we lose our souls...

We are so busy. We are so busy we don't think or feel or breathe. We just keep spinning constantly every day until we collapse into bed way too late at night so that we can get up way too early the next morning so that we can do it all again.

And then we die.

Really.

This entire life of ours spins and spins and then it's over. 

And it made me sick inside. And a little panicky.

I whined to the husband, and he said, "You got boys. They play sports."

Well, okay.

I mean, I understand that. 

I guess. I mean, I wanted them to have a fun thing to do. They spend all their time with me, and I really thought them having something fun to do outside the house would be... fun.

I don't think I really thought it through all the way. 

I narrowed my eyes at the husband and said, "I have spent the last 5 out of 7 days/nights in some way doing something with flag football. That is not okay with me."

It felt good just to whine about it.

The girl kid was also doing an extra voice clinic. That meant that the only night that we weren't busy during the week was Tuesday. That night quickly filled up too. Saturday mornings were now dedicated to football games, so that meant there wasn't a morning where we weren't up and at them early. 

I felt like I was going a little crazy.

And the whole world is like this. Everyone I knew was like this. When you greet someone and you say, "How are you?" they would respond, "We are so busy!"

And now I found myself saying this too.

Why?

One thing the Lord was clearly showing me here was that I needed to get out of my house. I need to be around people. I need to interact with people other than those in my own tiny little world.

I got that.

And it was nice. To meet new people and be around different folks. 

Okay.

And I realized that I cannot be at home all the time. 

I got that.

But how do I be this busy and not lose myself?

And getting this busy made me feel disconnected from God. 

I really, really hated that.

And then I hated even more when I started feeling okay about being that disconnected from God.

That made me really panicky.

I hated having one eye on the clock in the morning when I was spending time with Him. I hated knowing that I had only a certain amount of time and then I had to move on. I hated feeling the clock ticking all the time.

I hated how I felt: scattered and tired and emotional and in the middle of a giant mess.

The up side was that I didn't have time to think. 

I see why people get this busy. It's sort of like being drunk. You're numb and like a robot. 

Nothing real happens. 

We anesthetize ourselves so we don't have to deal with what's going on inside of ourselves.

And by "we," I mean "me."

And I think we use our kids to do that, for the most part. There's plenty for them to do, and you can literally spend all of your time shuffling them from one thing to another. 

I ended up this way, and it was quite by accident.

I kept wondering, "Why? Why do we do this?"

To avoid the realities of life? To avoid what's deep inside of us? Because life didn't turn out the way we had hoped it would so we pour everything into our kids and into making our lives busy so we don't have to think about what could/should have been? 

It's hard to think these things at the YMCA when your kids are happily at flag football practice. 

You feel sort of abnormal.

Maybe I'm over thinking it all. Maybe we can just be happily super busy and have deeply committed, active, intimate relationships with our Savior. Maybe this is just a joyously happy busy season of life, and when the kids are gone we settle back into a slower paced existence with our spouses, content to just be alone with them moving slowly through life for a change. Maybe we are allowing God to do a work deeply in our hearts and spirits more than I think we are, and there is fruit later from this season of life, and we will reap in joyous plentitude all that we are sowing in our lives now.

And by "we," I mean "me."

I'm reading a book on prayer, and this quote jumped out at me this morning:

Many Christians give in to a quiet cynicism that leaves us unknowingly paralyzed. We see the world as monolithic, frozen. To ask God for change confronts us with our doubt about whether prayer makes any difference. Is change even possible? Doesn't God control everything? If so, what's the point? Because it's uncomfortable to feel our unbelief, to come face-to-face with our cynicism, we dull our souls with the narcotic of activity.

It's easier to be busy than to think.

I get that. 

I also worry that when I'm this busy that there is the potential for me to mess it all up. I'm too tired to be kind to my husband. I'm too busy to listen to the depths of my daughter's heart. I'm too distracted to teach my sons how to be men of God. The house certainly isn't clean and we aren't eating healthy food and I'm bossy and nagging and weepy and angry and stressed and not good for a lot of anything positive, much less eternal.

Then our first sermon from a sermon series on prayer happened. 

I sort of knew that it was going to kick my butt. The Lord was gracious enough to have prepared me for that beforehand. I knew it was coming.

Luke 17 ~

And just as it happened in the days of Noah, so it will be also in the days of the Son of Man: 

they were eating, they were drinking, they were marrying, they were being given in marriage, until the day that Noah entered the ark, and the flood came and destroyed them all.

It was the same as happened in the days of Lot: 

they were eating, they were drinking, they were buying, they were selling, they were planting, they were building; 

but on the day that Lot went out from Sodom it rained fire and brimstone from heaven and destroyed them all.

I think mine would look like

she was cooking and baking and eating, and schooling and doing laundry and cleaning, and teaching and reading writing and running and trying to lose those exasperating 15 pounds, and dying gray hair and laughing and watching zombie television shows and doing lots of good in Your name and texting and listening and sharing and studying and talking and...

then she died.

(The Bible doesn't point out all the evil that society was doing during these times. Just the happy, normal business of life.)

So maybe that's not so bad. Maybe that's what we all want. Have a good education, get a family, and nice house, enough money to go to WalMart when you need to, go out to eat, take a vacation and be nice.

Don't get too wild and crazy. Don't talk about the Bible too much. Don't get all weird and make people feel uncomfortable. Most definitely don't ruffle any feathers. Just be nice, normal and go with the flow. Be ordinary. 

Then you die and stand before Christ, and you and He can hash it all out. There's grace, right? He understands. He understands that I had a house to clean and kids to get to football practice. 

I'm sure of it. He understands. 

He just wants us to be happy.

This is what my busy soul thinks, anyway.

Reflections on Revelation

We studied Daniel when Zane was a baby.

I'll never forget studying in the bed each night with commentaries spread all around me, trying to do so quietly, barely moving as not to disturb his little baby body snuggled next to me. I remember sitting in the floor sharing with the ladies of our Bible study group while he crawled over my legs. I remember literally being on my knees asking God to help me understand the complexities of the last half of Daniel. I remember making manipulatives and dancing them across the floor trying to explain verses and chapters. I remember being so completely exhausted at the end of that study, and I remember asking the ladies to do Revelation.

And I remember the resounding, "NO!"

Not that I can really blame them.

I have wanted to study Revelation since then. I tried a time or two on my own, but I felt the longing to study it with someone. I waited patiently, trusting that time would come.

And as God so often does, the opportunity to study Revelation didn't come when or how I expected it, but I also recognized the opportunity to grow in trust of this God. So there it was: a sermon series. 

I was a little nervous and very excited.

It started really well.

I plunged into this enigmatic book asking God to do a work in me.

And He did.

I wanted this to be a life changing study for me. I really did. I wanted to learn things that would change me forever. I wanted to raise an ebenezer that I could look back on for the rest of my life as a result of spending time with this book.

I decided I needed something tangible to keep my mind stayed on what I was studying. I chose this beautiful carnelian bracelet. {The lady that made it lives in the Canary Islands, and receiving a package from there was almost as fun as the bracelet inside.} I haven't taken this bracelet off since I received it. I love to rub the stones and feel the coolness and smoothness of them under my finger.

I am so very addicted to the tangible.

(And He who sat there had the appearance of jasper and carnelian...Revelation 4:3)


I studied and studied this book. I studied until I dreamed about it. I studied until I talked about it to nearly everyone who would listen. I read commentaries and articles and listened to sermons and taught it and thought about it and longed to have deep discussions with hot cups of tea until the early hours of the mornings. I stayed up late and got up early.  I studied until I was sad and nervous and discouraged and fearful and wanted to quit this life and run away.

I'm sure that's about ninety percent all the wrong things to do. But that's what I did.

I opened one of the books that I use for the kids in school one morning and these words leapt off the page at me:

I heard the imploration, "See the big picture." Stop studying the intricacies and step back. See it as a whole. What is the main message? What is the big picture?

I'm not good with the big picture.

I like the intricacies.

I like charts.

We got no charts.

{I'm still a little bitter}

But I learned something in that too. I'm learning to ask myself more, "What is the big picture here?"

In life. In my walk. In God's plan for my life. "What's the big picture?"

See? I'm practicing.

I also learned not to be too hard on myself here. I didn't walk away from Revelation with a perfect understanding of this book. Or even a perfect understanding of why it's okay not to have a perfect understanding of this book.

But God was so gracious to remind me of the first time I studied election. I studied and studied and came away from that study just as confused and broken and sad and searching as I did when I started.

God said, "Rest." So I did.

I studied it again later. I came away from the second study not as confused but still sad and less trusting of God. I felt like everything I had known had been wiped clean but I still didn't know what I truly believed. I felt unsettled and exhausted.

And God said, "Rest." So I did.

A sermon ushered me into my third study of election. I wearily opened the Bible and thought, "Here we go again."

And this is where God did a work. He showed me new things in verses I had read so many times before. He took me on a journey through Scripture and led me through this study with such sweetness and light, and I came away from it rejoicing in His perfect plan. I still couldn't fully wrap my mind around election, but my need to explain it all humbly crumbled to the desire to embrace it rather than process it.

It was good. Now I see this beautiful plan of God's woven all throughout Scripture and wonder how I missed it all before.

As I wrestled with the way I studied or failed to study Revelation, God poured out His grace in reminding me of this other journey. He reminded me that I have a sweet foundation of what I did learn in Revelation this time and there will be a time to study it again and build on this foundation.

I am so deeply and profoundly thankful for that.

We start a new series tomorrow in church. As Revelation fades into the rear view mirror, I find myself oddly sad. Tears drip down my face as I think about closing this book that seemed so daunting just a few weeks ago. I don't want to leave it behind. Ringing true is Revelation 1:3

Blessed is he who reads and those who hear the words of the prophecy and heed the things that are written in it...

I am sentimental by nature, but more than that, I want to remember what I learned. I want to stay changed. I want to be challenged by these words still, even after today.

Perhaps what I want to remember the most is the simple summary that rang from the pulpit and continues to echo in my head over and over again:

our God wins

Despite what my humanistic eyes want to see and what my deceptive heart wants to believe, this simple truth has the potential to change every single nuance of how I live. And I want to continue to strive to let it.

And oh I want to worship this way every single second of every single day~

"Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power and riches and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing...To Him who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb, be blessing and honor and glory and dominion forever and ever." 

Farewell, Revelation, for now. I promise to think of you often. And I look forward to spending time with you again. I'm really thankful you are the most spectacular and unimaginable ending to this great Canon I love so much.