angel...

my dear sister wrote a post on her blog this morning that brought so many memories back - memories of a newborn baby girl that i never met, the tears at the thought of a sweet, abandoned baby girl, umbelical cord still attatched, nestled in a bloody shirt in the back of my brother's pick-up truck on a cold, dark, lonely winter morning.  the wondering at the pain that the unknown mama was feeling...

the paramedics named her "angel".

and 10 years later, she is still thought of, still hoped for and still loved.

10 years later, my heart hurts even more for her mama...

happy birthday, sweet girl.

i love him...

*so* much!!!
(name the movie:))

it's in my heart...

yesterday, my little boy turned 5 months.

5 months.

i remember a month before he was born, thinking about christmas and how my baby would be six months old, his personality would be coming to the surface, i would be getting comfortable in the motions of becoming a mom of three...

but those 6 months felt like they would be a lifetime away.

my experiences were based on my previous two *first 6 months* in full blown post partum depression. where every moment, every cry, every feeding, every changing seemed to be too much.  where i would sit on the floor with a little one on either side of me and weep as i wished to be anywhere but where i was.

i loathed the day i ever dreamed of becoming a mom.

i loathed myself.

i loathed my children.

i loathed the God who gave me my precious gifts.

i remember sitting in my doctor's office with tears streaming down my face, full of shame as i confessed that while i *loved* my children, i didn't really feel anything for them other than they were 2 little bodies who i needed to take care of.

my heart breaks now just writing that down.

as much as i tried to force myself to *feel* something, as much as i desparately longed to love my daughters completely, there was something in the way...something that was bigger than me and my will.

i joke now that all i needed was zoloft and Jesus - but really, it's true.

it's taken me time to be *okay* with needing help...to admit that i have needed the help i've been given.  to be okay with being a statistic - especially when the thought that needing something alongside Jesus can be very taboo in some circles of Christian thought...

and so, when i had sweet elias, i was prepared for the endless days and nights.  the feelings of drowning, the staring at a wall for an hour as my babies cried around me...

i'll be flipping my calendar in just a few short days.  another month will have passed and i'll wonder where it went.  it hasn't been all sunshine and roses.  i still have my moments of sitting on the floor, wondering what i did with my life, but they are very few and very far between...

this post has taken a very different turn than i meant it too...kind of like my blog, so i hope that you can bear with my thoughts a little bit longer...

3 1/2 years ago i started this blog as a pictorial journey.  3 years ago, this blog turned into something more...something more than just smiling pictures of strained carrots and bright green poop.  it turned into a record of my journey with tony, my children and my faith.

at first, i was worried.  so worried that if i began writing about Jesus, i would offend someone.  or i would be seen as some odd fanatic whose thoughts about Jesus were a little...too much. 

but did i worry about writing about the crazy antics of my children?  the mundane daily things that seem to fill my life?  did i feel ashamed to write about my sweet, amazing husband?  did the pictures i post cause me to wonder who would be offended or bored or think i was an over-the-top mom?

of course not.

why?

because my heart is full.

of them.

and a heart that is full can't help but spill over onto whoever happens to walk...or browse...by.

unashamed

so should i be surprised when my heart is desparately full of love for Jesus that it spills into my writing, into my conversations, weaving itself into the simple stories that He then turns into amazing moments that speak directly to my heart, wooing me and drawing me in?

again, of course not.

i heard something profound today.  maybe not so profound to some of you, but it hit me like a cleated foot connects with soccer ball.

sometimes we let our fears of not knowing enough, not being smart enough, not being eloquent enough stop us from sharing Jesus with those around us.  we (and i have been SO guilty of this) feel that unless we have the magical formation of words down perfectly, there's no point in sharing our faith because we'll probably screw it up anyway.

i smile, because when i present lyla with something new and she doesn't know how to do it, she immediately sits down on the floor and yells that she "gives up" and "it's hopeless".  and i have to kneel down, get close to her face and ask her to take a deep breath and assure her that she can do it, because we'll do it together.

and i can't help but wonder if He does the same for us.  if He leans down near and whispers to our terrified souls, "lean on Me. rely on Me."

because i know i'm not smart enough.  i know i'm not eloquent enough.  i don't have the ph.d in theology that would give me the answers to the theological questions that have loomed out there long before i was born.

but i do know what i have.

i have a heart that is falling in love with Jesus.  a heart that longs to share what He has and is doing in my life.  a heart that longs for others to know the same Love that mine does.

and so i share.  timidly at times, more boldly at others.  but i can't not share about the One Who is Love Incarnate. Who turned my broken, unfeeling heart into one that can't contain what He has poured in.

so i willingly spill over what's in my heart...

for Him.

ah, livie...

hearing a *crash* coming from the living room monday morning, i rushed in to see what the lastest casulty was. something looked different, i just couldn't figure out what.

and then it hit me.

the big christmas tree in the corner that was the latest addition to our house was no longer standing as it should be.  no.  it was splayed across the floor in all it's christmas-y glory.

with a small, blonde head peeking out from underneath it.

later that evening i shared the tale with tony. he replied by saying, "well, at least she learned her lesson and won't be doing that again."

i paused and shared what livie stated, surrounded by evergreen and christmas ornaments...

"that was *fun* mama!!!  wanna do it again!!!"

silent and holy nights will *not* be happening here...

He knows...

i was unable this morning, due to this cold that won't let go of my girls, to attend my weekly tuesday bible study.  knowing this last night, i downloaded the session online that i knew i was going to miss, and once all the little ones were snug as bugs and sweet husband had left to go watch his manly football game with all his manly fellow football watchers, i pulled up tony's comfy office chair and snuggled in with my sleeping little man and prepared to learn.

to be honest, i was tired; mentally, physically and spiritually.  when i saw the session was 53 minutes and 50 seconds long i paused.  i didn't know if i would be able to get through.

but my soul craved a connection with Jesus.

and i clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, He would meet me in coziness of the office.

and so i watched.  and learned. and my heart was filled.  and my soul was prepared to handle what God had deemed me capable of handling today.

which, i haven't done with the grace i would have liked to.

anyways...

you  know my post about my house?

how much i love it, want to hug it?

below i've pasted what was in my devotions this morning, that i read this afternoon after waking up from a crying-induced nap.

He knows.  He knows my heart.  He knows how to reach me.  He knows what words, what illustrations will bring a balm to my wounded heart.

He is good. Oh, He is good.

He is faithful.

and He knows you - what will draw you even closer to Him.

my heart is filled with love for my Savior, because, though it was in the form of a devotional email sent to my inbox, i feel like He Himself sent a personal love note to me, reminding me where my home is...

********

Charles H. Spurgeon
November 10, 2009

Morning Reading

The eternal God is thy refuge.

—Deuteronomy 33:27

The word refuge may be translated "mansion," or "abiding-place," which gives the thought that God is our abode, our home. There is a fulness and sweetness in the metaphor, for dear to our hearts is our home, although it be the humblest cottage, or the scantiest garret; and dearer far is our blessed God, in whom we live, and move, and have our being. It is at home that we feel safe: we shut the world out and dwell in quiet security. So when we are with our God we "fear no evil." He is our shelter and retreat, our abiding refuge. At home, we take our rest; it is there we find repose after the fatigue and toil of the day. And so our hearts find rest in God, when, wearied with life's conflict, we turn to Him, and our soul dwells at ease. At home, also, we let our hearts loose; we are not afraid of being misunderstood, nor of our words being misconstrued. So when we are with God we can commune freely with Him, laying open all our hidden desires; for if the "secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him," the secrets of them that fear Him ought to be, and must be, with their Lord. Home, too, is the place of our truest and purest happiness: and it is in God that our hearts find their deepest delight. We have joy in Him which far surpasses all other joy. It is also for home that we work and labour. The thought of it gives strength to bear the daily burden, and quickens the fingers to perform the task; and in this sense we may also say that God is our home. Love to Him strengthens us. We think of Him in the person of His dear Son; and a glimpse of the suffering face of the Redeemer constrains us to labour in His cause. We feel that we must work, for we have brethren yet to be saved, and we have our Father's heart to make glad by bringing home His wandering sons; we would fill with holy mirth the sacred family among whom we dwell.. Happy are those who have thus the God of Jacob for their refuge!

moments with george...

i love the name george. have i ever mentioned that?

well, i do.

my first experience with a george was a huge st. bernard, who sloppily and happily loved me when i was 5.  george was also a girl.  i loved, loved, loved going out to the farm and seeing her.

and one day, she wandered off alone and never came back.  lyla was given a stuffed st. bernard  puppy when she was only a few months old, and the first word out of my mouth was "george".  of course, as lyla has learned that she can name things herself, with the name of choice lately being "lyla", this puppy, in *my* mind at least, is george.  helps to keep some of the memories i hold dear, close.

i always wanted an "uncle george". no idea why...i just did. having never voiced this request, it wasn't until i met my great-uncle george that this wish was realized. from the first moment we met, i loved my great-uncle george.  and he loved me.  he always made me laugh, always made me feel cherished, even when i couldn't get my grandpa's VW up the hill because i couldn't figure out the clutch.  he just smiled patiently in the car behind me and cheered when i finally, fin.a.lly, after 25, yes, *25* attempts, made it.  (did i mention that i lived on the flat, flat prairies most of my life, which meant i learned how to drive on the flat, flat prairies??)

the name "george" always makes my heart grow soft.

last night on the couch, sandwhiched between 2 freshly bathed little girls who couldn't seem to get close enough as they waited for their new movie to start, i forced  myself to stop thinking about everything i *still* needed to get done, forced myself to memorize what it felt like to have little arms and legs trying to entwine with mine. sweet, pudgy hands playing with my fingers. soft kisses placed with the utmost gentlness on an owie on my hand.

i forced myself to embed each moment in my mind because i know there will come a time when the movie that is eagerly waited for won't be "curious george", the entwining fingers will be reserved for the boy that is liked, when my home will be empty, save the echoes of squeals and giggles in my memory.

so, i hold on.

and i don't feel silly as my eyes fill with tears over a cartoon monkey who amazingly no-one appears weirded out by.

one of my sisters posted a quote today on her facebook from max lucado:  "if God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it."

i look at my own fridge, filling up with the pictures lyla brings home each day from preschool and the joy that her art brings me.  "really?" my heart seems to ask...how could the God of the universe feel that way about me?

and it hit me tonight as again, i snuggled with my oldest little one and played with her hair as she fell asleep; He watches over me.  He finds joy and great delight in me. i'm not being tucked into His memory for future muzings, i'm engraved on His hands.  His involvement in my life isn't to prepare me to leave His safety, His involvement is to prepare me for eternity with Him, where the air will be filled from the echoes of my thankfulness for loving me, for choosing me, for making me His own.

from an old dog, to a dear man, to a cartoon monkey - i love how all three have pointed me to the One Who has willingly walked the highs and lows of this journey with me so far.

and if i am going to be completely honest, there is a small part of me that hopes when He trades my old name for my new one, i'll hear His voice whisper...

"george."

happy 35th birthday...

i love who you are.  how much you take joy in being a daddy.  i love that 9 years of knowing you have allowed me to see deeper and deeper into you heart.

and i'm more in love with you now then i have ever been.

you are a man of integrity.

a man of passion.

a man of conviction.

a man that i feel safe confiding in...

sharing my life with...

raising my children with...

35 years ago, you took your first breath. but really, 35 years ago, my greatest gift was born...and i didn't even know it.

i love you.