Trees

When Laney was in Kindergarten, we learned Joyce Kilmer's "Trees." I have been driving her crazy reciting what I remember of it. She refuses to play and won't even say it with me.

It really stinks that I forgot that poem. It was a good one. 

The first line will stay with me forever:

I think that I shall never see 

A poem as lovely as a tree...


I was cleaning the kitchen when I heard a distant, "Mom! Come look!"

I walked out in the back yard to find my middle kid in the tree in the back yard for the first time ever. My first thought was, "Cool!" There were always trees to climb at my grandmother's house and I stayed in them. I almost climbed up there with him.

Then all I could see was him tumbling out of the tree to the hard ground. I saw emergency rooms, casts and doctor bills.

And I hate that.

Thanks to our insurance, the emergency rooms visits we've had took years to pay off. I don't mean to sound ungrateful for the insurance we have, but there is no dread like seeing a never ending stream of envelopes coming in the mail with hospitals' names on the upper left corner with your name on the front.

And then I got mad at myself for letting money affect my son's joy in climbing a tree.

Or maybe it wasn't really anxiety about the money. Was I worried that he'd get hurt and I feared seeing that pain? Was I inconvenienced by his being in the tree because I felt the need to stand under him to make sure he didn't fall out?

Why is this so hard for me?

As I shoved the little kid up the tree so he could be with his brother, I did laugh out loud at my insanity. I try so hard to be a good boy mom. I intentionally try to let them get dirty, be messy, be loud and let them rough and tumble. I see their love for rocks and sticks and motors and balls and running and gross stuff. And tackling. I didn't grow up around boys and never knew much about them, but I am desperate to be a good boy mom.

And I want them to be Godly men, fathers and husbands one day. I'm absolutely desperate for that.

So how does my not freaking out about my son climbing a tree lead him to be a Godly man? I don't know, but way deep inside me I feel a connection somehow.

I want him to know that I trust him to be careful and make wise decisions. I want to trust him to know how high to go or whether a branch is too weak to stand on. I want him to decide with full confidence if he's making good decisions or not. In that tree or out of it.

And I'm simply horrible at this. I stood there yelling up in that tree, "That's far enough. Not that branch. Are you ready to come down?"

The mom I want to be said, "I love that you are in that tree. I wish I could climb it too! How's the view up there?"

I think I said those things. Later. Maybe. I hope I did.

I have to trust my kids. I have to trust the Holy Spirit in them. I have to let them fall. Both out of trees and in life. Everything in me screams against that. But He's teaching me, and I'm so thankful.

I want, long and desire passionately to be a Godly wife and a fantastic boy mom. {And girl mom, but that seems so much easier. At least in this situation. She climbed in the tree for five minutes and decided she'd rather swing or read}

These boys challenge me. And I'm so glad. 

Leaves

by Elsie N. Brady

How silently they tumble down

And come to rest upon the ground

To lay a carpet, rich and rare,

Beneath the trees without a care,

Content to sleep, their work well done,

Colors gleaming in the sun.

At other times, they wildly fly

Until they nearly reach the sky.

Twisting, turning through the air

Till all the trees stand stark and bare.

Exhausted, drop to earth below

To wait, like children, for the snow.

 

I love and adore you, fall. You are my favorite. 

Pumpkin Patch

We made our annual visit to the pumpkin patch yesterday, but we almost didn't get to go. I inadvertently scheduled another field trip the same day without realizing it. At the last minute we were able to work it out. I was so glad because this is such a special part of the way we love to celebrate fall. 

We were late, rushing to meet our friends, and I yelled for the kids to let me take a picture. They really don't mind doing things like this for their photo-obsessed mother, but they knew they were missing things and were ready to get on with it. I knew that we probably wouldn't remember to do it when we left, so I made them sit quickly for a quick picture. 

The picture from this year made me both happy and sad. 

It made me think back through the years, and so this morning, I took a few minutes strolling down memory lane and gathered the pictures from pumpkin patches through the years. 

I'm not sure who these big kids belong to. Laney, on the cusp of being 10 years old, and the boys, so big. And on a side note, this is the first year it has ever been cool at the farm, even though we go each year. I was very thankful for that. 

Last year, we were really, really hot. This is what I think the kids should look like. Perhaps I'm a year behind in their development. I probably need to catch up. 

This was the last year Laney would wear a "fall" shirt. The last year they were all little. 

This one makes my heart melt. The days were still long and hard, but those faces kill me. 

This year we only made it to the tiny church pumpkin patch right around the corner by our house. That kid in the middle is showing you why. To look at the picture makes me so incredibly tired. And thankful that they are big like that first picture now.

And this is why we didn't go to a pumpkin patch this year. I looked at this picture and had a heart attack. I honestly don't remember most of those days, but how adorable is he? I do wish I could kiss those cheeks one more time! 

 And here were the other two. I love those kids. 

As I tried so hard to encourage a sweet new mom this week, I did so gently. I see now, five years out from these last photos, that the time does fly. But I remember all too well those first days with your first born. The unfathomable exhaustion, the worry and stress, the overwhelming sense of twenty-four hour responsibility, the physical demands on a body just having carried a baby for nine months and then gotten the baby out, not to mention swirling hormones and thoughts only of how to go to the bathroom by yourself  or take a shower at least every couple of days, again, alone. 

I could have cried for her, and given the week that just was, I probably did. 

I so wanted to encourage her, yet assure her that she would blink once and these days would be over. Because it's true. But when some well meaning soul would tell me this in Publix as I struggled to make it through that moment, I didn't believe her. 

Thankfully I found a sweet blog post that perfectly expressed what I could not. I read it tearfully and sent it to her, hoping the the Holy Spirit would use it to comfort and encourage her. 

And I prayed for her a lot. I won't ever forgot how hard those days were, nor will I ever say to a young mom, "Just wait until _____ stage. It's so much harder."

No. It's all hard. Just different kinds of hard. 

But the take away for me is the same. That even as I get tired and discouraged in this stage of life, I will remember that it's over all too quickly. And even as I sit now and see a Saturday full of chores and sole responsibilities today for these three ever changing kids, I know that He is strong in me and that soon I'll be sitting in a quiet house, looking back at pictures of Pumpkin Patches from years past, wondering where the years all went.

And that helps me allow Him to be strong in me and do today well. 

Eyes on the Sky

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.




The heavens are telling of the glory of God; And their expanse is declaring the work of His hands.

When the mysterious author of Hebrews admonished his readers to run the race"...fixing our eyes on Jesus..." I sort of took that literally.

(and i'm feeling a little cranky about not knowing who wrote hebrews. it seems important today.)

I know that there are lots of ways to do that Scripturally and figuratively, and I've struggled to do those things. Keep your eyes on Him, I mean. 

I also stare at the sky a lot.

My mom has always said, "It feels good to let your eyes look as far as they can" and I agree.

Especially since I read about a prisoner that lost a lot of his vision from being in a small cell for years. 

But it's more than that. It's seeing God's creation screaming His praises. It's seeing that I am such a small speck of dust in the grand scheme of things. It's reminding myself that if I keep looking here, I'll get discouraged, weary and frustrated.

It's hard to feel those things when you're looking up. 

So I set my eyes upward, toward Him. It helps me praise Him, talk to Him, and see that He truly is sovereign over all. Especially my tiny, brief life. 

I also have become accustomed to snapping pictures of the sky with my phone. I have no idea why. I like capturing the beauty, I guess.

It's odd, though, just a bit, to be this fixated on the sky. And I'm sure the neighbors that exercise at the same time I do each morning wonder why I stop periodically and take pictures of the sky. 

That's okay, though.

I was delighted to hear our pastor mention the other Sunday that while walking across the parking lot to come into the church, he noticed the clouds, and proceeded to exclaim about their beauty and how they shouted God's glory.

"I get that!" I yelled on the inside.

That made me feel not quite so odd. 

At the risk of looking like one of those cheesy videos from You Tube, I had to put here some of my favorites. They make me happy. And peaceful. 

This was an amazing morning. This was literally what I saw facing one direction:

And when I turned around, this was the opposite direction:

And then in the fall, my favorite season, there's this; a perfectly cloudless sky, so blue you can hardly stop looking at it. That screams His glory too...

Apps for School

A fabulous and amazing mama recently told a group of us about two apps called "Stack the States" and "Stack the Countries." I put them on my phone and soon the kids were fighting over who got to play. I was skeptical at first, but soon the kids were yelling the names of the states and the capitals and pointing them out on the map. 

And guess what I had done?

Nothing. 

Well, I mean while they were playing I was doing 1,298,398,529 other things, but I wasn't actually teaching them about states. 

Now I'm not advocating that letting your kids play on your phone is the best way to teach them. I am saying that there are fun ways to teach kids things that they enjoy with technology and this can help take  some of the pressure off of the homeschooling parent. 

I found this the other day, and I'm putting it here for reference:

Helpful apps for school

(link)

I think I'll check some of these out and see what else they can teach themselves. (joke. sort of.)

Come Like You Promised

COME LORD LIKE YOU PROMISED

JUST LIKE YOU SAID YOU WOULD

DO NOT DELAY

COME WITH HEALING IN YOUR TOUCH

COME WITH FIRE IN YOUR EYES

JUST LIKE YOU SAID YOU WOULD

COME WITH GRACE AND MERCY

COME WITH JUDGEMENT AND MIGHT

JUST LIKE YOU SAID YOU WOULD


COME RIDING ON THE WIND

THROUGH CLOUDS OF GLORY PIERCE THE SKY

JUST LIKE YOU SAID YOU WOULD

COME AND BRING US BACK AGAIN

LORD COME RESTORE YOUR BRIDE

JUST LIKE YOU SAID YOU WOULD

Come, Lord, please. Come.

 

Not because we're weary of death. Not because we're tired of sickness, evil, pain and destruction. Not just because its hard to bear loved ones' pain. Not because we live with the knowledge that so much of our world lives with poverty, hunger, oppression, persecution, thirst and are dying without the knowledge of Him. Not because we wrestle with why we don't. Not because the church is in desperate need of healing. Not because children suffer at the hand of ones provided to protect and care for them. Not because Satan continues to wage war on us all.

Come because we long to see Your face. Come so that we may look upon the One who obeyed to the point of death on a cross. Come so that we may praise You for an eternity. 

Come to right all the wrong. 

Come so that no more mothers have to bury their babies. 

We know you wait, so that more will hear. So that more will come to know. And we want that. Help us to turn from all that distracts us. Help that to be our passion - our drive. Forgive us where we've failed to show You to a lost and dying world. 

Help us live here, and wait well. Help us wait for You. Working while we wait. So that more will hear. 

A quick thought about money

Even typing that title made me laugh.

There ain't nothing quick about the concept of money. 

I've wrestled with this for years, which makes me nothing other than probably more tired than some other people. 

I stumbled across this article a bit ago, and I haven't stopped thinking about it.

It really nails down some of the things I've always wanted to articulate, but never took the time or forced myself to get out. 

And honestly really thought, "does it even matter?"

It does matter, but sometimes it seems like attacking a glacier with an ice pick. 

And who am I to attack a glacier, me, oh lover of shoes?

Anyway, here is the article. Just read it:

A response...

(link)