Beach - Day 1 & 2

I was surprised when my mother-in-law invited us last minute to join her at the beach. We'd be gone Saturday through Wednesday. The first thing I thought of was school, since we'd just missed a week due to Spring Break. I also had things going on that week, but in the end I knew it was a good thing to do.

This decision also included the realization that it would mean me packing, traveling, and executing a vacation with no help. Just me. 

Whew. 

Off we went. 

The 4 year old really struggled on the way down. He literally asked every 5 minutes if we were "there yet?" and he finally melted down into a huge pile of insanity.

I wanted to turn around and go home. 

We pressed on, and after several bathroom stops (and one stop for some disciplinary action) we made it there in a scant 5 hours. 

*sigh*

Okay.

We ran to the grocery store for supplies and dinner, got to the beach house, ate and went to bed. 

That was day one.

Day two was Sunday, and it dawned like this:

We realized that my mother in law sleeps later than we do, image that, so we scampered out of the house for a coffee run, which was a couple of miles northward of the beach.

After I had my hands on some caffeine, we decided to go see the beach. As we drove southward, we noticed the fog thickening until the point where I was struggling to see. It had been fairly clear just an hour before. We slowly picked our way through the fog until we got to the beach. We parked the van and were absolutely in awe at what we saw. 

I had never seen the beach this way. It was eerily beautiful. The noise of the ocean even seemed muted by this heavy veil of fog.

It was so captivating that I couldn't stop taking pictures.

You could feel the mist in the air. It was literally like moving through a cloud. 

The kids were just elated to be at the beach. This pictures brings tears to my eyes, simply from the excitement they had. They literally raced toward the ocean, just so so excited. 

And yes, they were still in their pajamas. This was only the first of our wardrobe offenses at the beach. 

In awe. Swimming in an appreciation of the grandness of the ocean. Of God's creation. Okay, I was at least. I'm not actually sure what they were thinking...

I was also very thankful for this. My kids don't sleep well on the first night of a vacation, I realized. 

Laney dropped in the sand and wrote this. I'm thankful.

Family portrait.

We somehow managed to peel ourselves away from this beauty and head back to the house.

We were going to church!

I was excited. I was eager to experience a different worship environment.

My favorite part was when the 15 sermon was over, and my kids looked up at me with wide eyes and said, "It's over?"

That part was a little different than the hour long sermon we are accustomed to. 

It was a very thought provoking service for me. I think I am most appreciative for the faithful presentation of the Word we receive each Sunday. If we don't cling desperately to the Word, and only to the Word, what do we have? 

My mother in law was so very kind to take us all to lunch after church to her favorite beach resturant. I was more than excited. Seafood is my favorite, but seafood at the beach? Oh. My.

She treated us to alligator. It was really good. 

While we were waiting on our food, Zane drew a portrait of Grandmother. She was kind enough to pose. He gave her the picture when we was done so she could draw her glasses. That was a little above his skill level... 

We had to do the touristy thing.

Getting my previously not-a-tomboy tomboy into this dress was not easy. I had to document the occasion. 

After lunch, Grandmother took us to a really cool park. 

Laney is up in the tower. You can see her arm...

The kids loved the park, and I could have taken a hundred pictures.

After the park we rested at the house for a bit, and Grandmother even taught the boys how to play chess. 

(Or "chest" if you're 4 years old. And if you're 4, you don't really understand how to play and you will probably drive your older brother a little crazy. But that's okay, when you're 4)

And that was day one and two. Just typing all that out makes me tired again! More days, with lots of photos, to come...

I am the moon

The 6 year old was reading his science book aloud yesterday, and he said something that froze the day in place. He was reading about the moon, and I guess I was in a really unusual and rare mood where I overthink things too much and try to spiritualize everything *ahem* but anyway...

He read the following:

The Moon is the biggest and brightest thing in the sky at night. It shines but it does not make its own light. The Moon just reflects light from the Sun.

I got lost for a moment, which I would also like to point out is unusual and rare. *ahem* 

But I really did. 

I thought, "Wow. That's me."

I've struggled again with old issues that seems to constantly rear their ugly head here lately. 

And I'm continually reminded that there is nothing, and I do mean nothing, good about me but Him. 

I offer nothing. Anything good or decent or kind or loving or wise or humorous or gentle or patient or hard working or dedicated or patient... (did I say patient twice?)

well, that's just all Him

Because I'm none of those things. 

But that's okay. I'd rather have His good than my good, since my good is bad. 

The science book went on to say that the Moon always keeps the same half of itself to the Earth. 

No one had seen the farside of the Moon until 1959 when the Luna 3 probe orbited the Moon and sent back pictures.

{{I can't be the only one who thought of Pink Floyd when I heard him read that part.}}

But again I thought, "Wow."

Am I careful to only let one side of myself be seen? 

The psudeo-Godly part?

The "I've got it all together and I'm pretty good at this life thing" part?

Or am I transparent to let Him shine more and allow more glory to be given to Him in that He shines brightly where I am so very, very weak?

Then. 

Last night as we were driving home from church, I was flipping through my iPod looking for music for my daughter. She is currently in love with Sara Groves, and I knew I had a few random songs of hers that I wanted to play for Laney.

I saw this title, "You are the Sun." It's a live version of Sara playing at a women's correctional facility that I got for free a while ago. I had not ever listened to it, so I pressed play.

Well.

You are the sun shining down on everyone
Light of the world giving light to everything I see
Beauty so brilliant I can hardly take it in
And everywhere you are is warmth and light

And I am the moon with no light of my own
Still you have made me to shine
And as I glow in this cold dark night
I know I can't be a light unless I turn my face to you

You are the sun shining down on everyone
Light of the world giving light to everything I see
Beauty so brilliant I can hardly take it in
And everywhere you are is warmth and light

And I am the moon with no light of my own
Still you have made me to shine
And as I glow in this cold dark night
I know I can't be a light unless I turn my face to you

Shine on me with your light
Without you I'm a cold dark stone
Shine on me I have no light of my own
You are the sun, you are the sun, you are the sun
And I am the moon

Have I mentioned lately how freaking cool the God we serve is? I mean He's busy holding this universe together and yet He sees fit to bless me with these seemingly tiny yet so monumentally  amazing non-coincidental occurrences. It leaves  me speechless and so very humbly thankful. 

I'll never be a light unless I turn my face to you

I pray that as I struggle through some beautiful yet impossible things the Lord has handed me, that I will keep my face turned to Him. I want to bathe in His warmth, His love. 

Praise the Lord.

Praise the Lord from the heavens,

praise him in the heights above. 

Praise him, all his angels,

praise him, all his heavenly hosts. 

Praise him, sun and moon,

praise him, all you shining stars. 

Praise him, you highest heavens

and you waters above the skies. 

Let them praise the name of the Lord,

for he commanded and they were created. 

He set them in place for ever and ever;

he gave a decree that will never pass away.

Psalm 148

Without you I am a cold dark stone

Spring Break

Honestly, I didn't expect much from this Spring Break. In my mind, it was going to be hard to top last year's Spring Break

I shouldn't have worried. This year's Spring Break was even better.

We had a great day at the park on Monday.

Tuesday Laney went off with a friend and they boys and I had planned a play date with some other friends. When a virus invaded our friends' home, we post phoned that playdate and had a park play date instead. That was good. That night I got to go have dinner with friends. Evidently, it's been much too long since I've been out of the house without kids:

This was our first attempt. We got tickled looking for Sandi behind me, trying to figure out what Allie was doing, and at the sweet server that couldn't figure out the camera. At least Rachel is in this one.

I wasn't the only one that lost it. Alli did too.

Okay, fine. I had really lost it by this point. 

I mean like really, really lost it. And yes, I'm brave putting this up here. And Allen's favorite line is, "Oh, I can hear that laugh." (I'd also like to point out that no one even had a margarita. This is all natural. Or maybe that's a bad thing)

Okay, we (I) pulled it together. Whew.

 I guess this would be a good time to say that I'm so very thankful for the amazing ladies God has placed in my life.

Whew. That was good.

Wednesday we went back to the new park we loved so much with sweet friends.

Zane was ready.

We rolled down the hill.

And I do mean all of us! It was so much fun, although I was picking grass out of my hair the rest of the day. It was worth it though.

We ate our favorite local take out, and for desert we had donuts and cup cakes.

That was good.

Really good.

Have I said lately how much I love cupcakes?

We read books, rode bikes and scooters, played on the playgrounds, walked and played.

That night we had a "camp out" with our friends. These were the three most excited kids ever. Can't you tell? Oh yeah, by this time they were exhausted from all the fun.

Thursday was St. Patrick's Day.

This is the 3rd annual local (and I do mean very local) St. Patrick's Day Parade!

See, I'm holding it together here. I can behave, when I need (want) to.

We hit Sonic for 1/2 price slushies.

We finished the day at the dollar theater where Mimi met up with us!

Friday we finished up the week by going with Daddy to the science museum.

The kids were thrilled, and I mean thrilled, to find that their favorite game was back after a brief absence. They would play this thing for hours.

We then made a surprise visit to a sweet family we love so dearly. The men sat in the back yard and chatted while the Mrs. and I sat on the front porch with our ice water and fruit and watched the kids run around and around. It was this beautiful, peaceful scene from Americana. I felt like I was in a Normal Rockwell painting.

Then I let the dog out of the house accidentally and the men and kids went on a mad dash through this Americana to retrieve the fugitive. {{So much for the peace.}}

The Mrs. and I jumped in the van and drove to the rescue. That's how we roll. On the journey we found a garage sale and spend the better part of an hour picking through a gentleman's garage. That was an adventure, let me tell you. We laughed and chatted with neighbors from this little town. Walked down the sidewalk and waved at neighbors who called greetings from their porches. I am so in love with this little town.

We nearly outstayed our welcome, we were having so much fun, but we headed home to pack off the two older kids for a spend the night party with my sister.


By the end of all this fun, I had the most monstrous headache I'd had in a very long time. After the big kids left,  I crawled in the bed and let Daddy take care of everything. I decided that I had simply had too much fun. Is that even possible?

{{But there was no rest for the weary. The next day, we were off to the beach. Without Daddy. I needed to get some rest for that adventure.}}

It was an amazing week filled with so much fun. We came away from it feeling thankful for friends and family. Truly blessed.

Sk8Rboy

Sorry, I couldn't help the title. I should have, I know.

Jude and Zane are into skateboarding. They've had the skateboards for awhile, but I guess seeing the skaters at the park inspired them.  They disappeared into the garage yesterday and literally stayed there except to come in to do a bit of school and to eat. 

I am praying my brains out that they don't get hurt. We are still paying off an ER visit from last year. Or two years ago. I lose track. Admitedly it was from illness and not injury, but still. When I see danger, I see $$$. Not the well being of my kids, mind you, but money.

Yes, I'm a bad mother. 

{{I blame insurance.}}

I'm also learning to not hover and drive them crazy about not getting hurt. 

I'm learning.

And I think I need anti-anxiety meds. 

Anyway, these videos are short, and they make me really, really happy. 

Oh, and my vanity must apologize for the state of our garage. It's getting gutted and cleaned OUT really soon. Trust me. I'm about to put on hold my tree-huggingness for a weekend and fill a dump full of all that junk. Soon. :)

Thoughts on yesterday

My mom sent this to me this morning in response to my post yesterday. It's good...

Do you ever struggle with God’s sovereignty? Do you wonder why he has ordained for you to face the things you face? Are you ever tempted to doubt his goodness or question his love? Or do you experience rest of heart even when your relationships are messy and your circumstances are difficult? The following words are about where the rest can be found.

I did it again and again when our children resisted our instruction and correction. I did it again and again when they debated a command or questioned our plans. I did it again and again when they opposed our authority and quested for self-rule. I did it again and again for two good reasons.

To begin with, my wife and I had brought children into this world who thought they didn't need us! Like us, each of them at some point fell into believing they were far more knowledgeable and capable than they really were. Like us, they often assumed that their intentions were noble and their plans were sound. Like us, they tended to think they were capable of determining what was best, even when they lacked important information and experience. Like we often do, they simply felt they were in possession of a better way.

But there was a second reason I did it again and again. Our children were too young to grasp the abstract, strategic, and often theological purposes underlying my instruction. Even if I explained everything in as age-appropriate a way as I could, they would still have no actual understanding. They just did not yet have the categories or the capacity to grasp the parental logic behind the plan or command.

So I did the same thing again and again. I would kneel down in front of them at eye level and say, "Please look at Daddy's face. Do you know how much I love you? Do you know that your Daddy is not a mean, bad man? Do you know that I would never ask you to do anything that would hurt you or make you sick? I am sorry that you can't understand why Daddy is asking you to do this. I wish I could explain it to you, but you are too young to understand. So I am going to ask you to do something—trust Daddy. When you walk down the hallway to do what Daddy has asked you to do, say to yourself, 'My Daddy loves me. My Daddy would never ask me to do something bad. I am going to trust my Daddy and stop trying to be the Daddy of my Daddy.'"

God does the same thing with you, over and over again. He meets you in one of the difficult hallways of your life, kneels down before you in condescending love, and asks you to trust his loving and wise rule, even though you don't have a clue what he is doing.

He knows there are many times when your life doesn't look like there is anyone ruling it, let alone someone wise and good. He knows there will be times when you will wish you could be the author of your own story. He knows that at times you will be overwhelmed by what is on your plate. He knows that his plan will confuse and confound you. And he knows that real rest cannot be found in understanding, because, like my children, there are things, as a limited human being, you simply do not have the capacity to understand.

Real rest is found in trusting the Person who is in control of the things you don’t understand.

He is willing to have the conversation with you again and again, and he has made sure that his Word assures you of his rule again and again. (For just a few examples, see 1 Chronicles 29:11-12, Psalm 103:19, Psalm 115:3, Proverbs 21:1, Isaiah 46:9-10, Daniel 4:35, and Ephesians 1:11.)

Paul Tripp

Link: 

http://www.desiringgod.org/blog/posts/real-lasting-rest

Am I ready for this?

I plopped down in my school chair at the school table, ready for a first day back after two weeks off.

I was ready.

Coffee in hand, schedule out. 

Let's hit it.

Not 15 minutes into school, tears started pouring down my daughter's face. 

I sent the boy off to play {"What? Play? No school?" He happily scampered off.}

What gushed out of my sweet daughter was weeks of pent up feelings, thoughts, emotions and prayers that she had been struggling with on her own.

I had no idea.

As I sat and listened to her, my emotions flooded together. I struggled and mentally cried out, "Oh, Lord. HELP!"

As she shared her heart, what flew against me was that she had wrestled with an issue, just she and the Lord. She asked Him for direction, and He gave it to her.

She said, "Mom. He told me what to do. I finally heard Him..."

She'd been wanting to hear His voice. Wondering when she would.

And what she came to me with was such an assault on my senses. Huge grown up issues that she had been wrestling with and wanting answers to.

And she confronted me, with tears and gentleness, about why I haven't shared things with her that she wanted to know. 

As we talked, I had my open Bible in front of me. I kept touching it for reassurance, sharing with her God's plan and God's Words.

I'm so out of my comfort zone here. Gone are the days of potty training, Sesame Street and sleep issues.

Here we are. Teaching and learning how to follow Christ in all of His ways.

I'm not ready for this.

Or am I?

Have I spent enough time in His Word? Have I prayed enough. Have I meditated on His Word enough? Enough to parent well through these hard days?

Maybe. Maybe I am ready.

It was hard. Hard to look in her eyes and confess through my own tears that I hoped she wasn't sorry that I was her mother. That I worked hard to be the kind of mother that she could love and be thankful for. 

This was not what I bargained for when I sat down in my school chair.

As I look, even know, out the back door at her as she walks in the grass, thinking, pondering and praying, I know that I have to trust Christ to care for her. I know that I am teaching her how to be obedient to Him, to hear His voice, to be in His Word and to serve Him forever. I know that He will continue to carry her like He has the past few weeks. 

And what else did I learn from today?

As I asked her to trust me, to trust that I knew, guided by the Spirit, what was best for her, I heard God whisper to me, "And this goes for you too. I know what's best for you."

As I asked her to trust me, I heard God whispering, "And you have to trust Me."

This parenting thing. It's tough. It makes me rely on Him more. Seek Him more. Pray more. Cling more.

And you know what? It makes me tired.

Is it bedtime yet?


I hear my daughter singing and catch a glimpse of her twirling, in a new hand-me-down dress, past the door of the room where I sit, exhausted in so many ways.

I see the lightness of heart in her. I see the bounce in her step. I hear the lilt in her voice as she sings. Loudly. She feels lighter. A burden shared and then, released.

And strangely I feel more weighed down. I know what she faces. I  know what she's up against. I know what seeks to steal her away. I know what wants to take her joy. I know the devices he uses. What God created that He meant for good that she was questioning me about today. He will try to use it against her.

But greater is He that is in us, than he that is in the world. (1 John 4:4)

I'm so thankful for that. As I go, to pay bills, gather tax documents, clean, cook and direct the bedtime routine, I feel the song sweetly echo in my thoughts...

Perfect submission, all is at rest; 

I in my Savior am happy and blest, 
watching and waiting, looking above, 
filled with his goodness, lost in his love.

I struggle to release my burden to Him who says that His yoke is light. His burden is easy. (Matthew 11:30) He carries the load.

He is my resting place.

Shells

The kids and I love to collect shells at the beach. We walk along, scooping up shells and wash them in the waves.

I was the designated shell bag holder. As the boys would scurry to me, holding piles of shells dripping with wet sand, they would exclaim each time, "Look, Mom! Look at this one!"

I would admire each one before it was dropped into the shell bag. 

I noticed not long into our shell expedition that my shells were only complete shells. I only picked up perfect shells with no broken parts or missing pieces.

The boys picked up any shell that caught their eye, even if it was just a fragment. 

I found myself wanting to say, "But that's just a piece of a shell..." but I didn't. I let them drop those pieces in the bag. The pieces came to rest among my whole shells.

And you know what? That is so me. 

I don't like broken. 

I don't like it when I'm broken. 

I feel like when I sin, or when I fail, or when I fall, or when I stumble, I have to clean my self up and "fix" myself before I come before God.

I feel like He won't love me until I get myself all squared away and "clean" again.

I have a hard time worshiping when I've stumbled. Even when I've asked forgiveness and repented. I feel like God is mad at me. I feel like I have to do pentance until I'm clean again.

It cheapens the Gospel. It nullifies what Christ did on the cross. 

And I hate it.

It carries over into relationships too.

I don't ask for help.

I just shut down and figure it all out.

I'd much rather say, "I really fell apart yesterday, but I'm fine today" than to say, "I'm falling apart. Please help me."

I've never been so aware of this more than lately.

It's hard to be vunerable and say, "Help me." I hate to admit, "I'm struggling."

I'd rather say, "Leave me alone until I get this worked out."

For me, it's even more difficult for me to allow someone to help.

But for the first time in a long time, I feel the pull to allow. To accept help. 

To ask for it.

And even more than that, I've felt the pain of not allowing someone to help. I've felt the pain of seeing what the words "I can do it by myself" can cause. We need to be needed. We need to be allowed to help. We need to hear the words, "I need you..."

It's okay to let someone help.

I want to be able to accept help humbly. I don't want to act like I can do this by myself, because I can't.

I'm learning that just because you ask for help, that doesn't necessarily make you a burden. It doesn't mean that you are a weight. It doesn't mean that you are asking for too much.

I don't have to be whole all the time. 

How much do I love that my boys found beauty in brokenness? How thankful am I that they love me so much in spite of all of my brokenness, both in parenting and in being a child of God?

Hi. My name is Amy. I am broken. And that's okay.

I'm learning to see the beauty in being broken.