If Only....

Lately I've heard myself saying the same thing over and over again in my heart.  I say it differently each time, but the meaning, the core, of my statement is the same.  It goes something like this...

When I walk into the laundry room and see masses of clean and dirty clothes, I might say, "If only I could get caught up on my laundry..."

Or, at the end of a long hot day when I'm worn and frazzled and five pairs of eyes all look to me to provide nourishment, "If only I had planned meals for the week..."

When Jack wants to be held every waking moment, "If Jack would just lay in his moses basket for more than 5 minutes..."

When one of my sons argues with me over an instruction that I have given him, "If only he would just do. what. I. say..."

When brothers have a day filled with bickering, disagreements, and hurt feelings, "If they could just get along!!!!"

When I see my baseboards looking disgustingly dirty or my crazily unorganized closet, "If I just had a little extra time..."

So, I started thinking...

According to what I learned in geometry, an "if" statement should be followed by a "then" statement.  So, what is my "then" statement??  It is...

If Jack wouldn't cry, then I could handle it.  If I had a perfect, ready to go, meal plan,  then I could do this.  If the boys wouldn't argue, fuss, and fight, then I could handle this five kid thing.  It would be within my grasp.  I could be in control. I could conquer it.  I'd have this thing... in the bag.  Game over.  I got it.  The big V.

(Reality check: I just think I could handle it if Jack would be content, etc.  I'm only kidding myself!)

The bottom line, what I've come to after thinking about all this for several weeks, is that it is time for me to lay it all down again.  These "if" statements are all indicative of the fact that I have once again put myself in the drivers seat.  I am trying so hard to keep everything within my grasp, everything under my control.

But, to be quite honest, I'm swamped.  My laundry is piled high, my bed hasn't been made in 2 months, my menu plan is not happening, my counters stay cluttered, my boys are on a very weak schedule, and my personal hygiene is not up to par.  More than at any other time in my life,  I feel as if I am in over my head.

And, it isn't just the visible things.

It is the invisible things, too, the things that keep me up at night, the worries, the decisions, the things we wrestle with but we cannot see.  I can't handle those either.  And, as I sit alone in the dark, holding the sweetest infant, the worries come, the negative thoughts knock.  And, once again I realize that I cannot handle this, all of this.  I must lay it down.  I must give my desires, as well as my worries over, lay them at His feet.

Yesterday afternoon I stood in the kitchen and craziness surrounded me.  Erik Daniel was whining at my feet asking over and over for something I had already told him no to.  Elijah was talking incessantly expecting me to hang on his every word.  Joshua and JCT were talking and laughing loudly.  Music was playing, and the tv on.  And, I was at that moment completely overwhelmed.  The noise level was too much, the pulling and tugging on my arms and legs by my 2 and 3 year olds was overstimulating.  My mind was turning and twisting, swirling filled with lists of things to be done before we had to leave for Joshua's baseball game. I was standing still, in a daze, completely paralyzed by all the life happening around me and inside me.  But, then, I looked down at the infant in my arms.

He was looking up at me, pure peace in those baby blue eyes.  And, when our eyes met, he smiled, so big, so gently, so sweetly.  And, his peace overwhelmed me, caught me off guard. I smiled at the contrast between his sweetness and the chaos that surrounded me.  And, I breathed thanks to God for his gift to me in that moment.

As I thought of that moment over and over again later that evening, I thought of how it is very much like my life now.  Life is spinning, sometimes out of control. Life is full and busy and hyper and loud, and I am at least two steps behind at all times. But, God is staring down at me with eyes filled to overflowing with peace for the moment. If only I will stop and gaze at Him, His peace will overwhelm me.  But, I tend to keep my focus on the busyness around me, the to-do lists, the rat race, and all the while He is beckoning me to come, drop my Martha list, drop the facade that I am in control, and just sit at His feet and soak up the peace that passes understanding.  It is time to give up, fall down on my knees, and  lay all that concerns me, all that entangles me, all that strangles my joy, all that weighs me down, all that keeps me running wide open, all that drives me toward perfection, all the lies, worries, and fears ~ lay them all down at His feet and bask in the peace that only He gives.

The Dry Days. . .

I'm tired.


It has been a month, and everyone tells me sweet and wonderful things...

"You're amazing!"
"I don't know how you do it!"
"You don't look like you've just had a baby!"
"I think you must be made to have children!"

And, some days I feel it.  I feel amazing and energetic and full of life and all that He offers me through it.

But, today I'm tired.  I feel worn.  Tears are just a few blinks away.

God is so good, and I am so tired.

He is still good when I am tired.

He is so very good when I feel worn, ragged, old, and grumpy.

His grace is enough for days when I just can't do it.

His grace fills me when my cup is empty.

And, in these times when I am tired, worn, and much too hard on myself, it is then that He reminds me that He is all I need.

I need to catch my breath...

And, He is my Breath, my Life, the only Thing that fills my cup on the dry days...

and the long nights...

When I sit on that couch holding my sweet infant and the sun is still tucked far away, I can know that I am not alone and...

He is enough, more than enough.

Only He can make dry days bloom beauty and joy and peace amidst the tired, the weak, and the overwhelmed!

Because one thing is for sure, when you have five kiddos and you are tired, weary, and worn, life does not stop for you!!  So, press on!!  If only they would wear the same clothes for a week and let me get caught up on laundry!  Ha!

Pictures from April. . .

I love to be outdoors in spring.  The yard, the woods, they come alive in spring ~ all the colors and smells.  I could breath honeysuckle all year long!! :-)

He appears to be so worried. It is hard to be a baby, so, so hard!! :-)

Best friends.

Sweetness.

Precious.

Fresh air.

 Beauty.

 Love.

My Jack.

He is strength for this weary mama, and His grace, thankfully, fills my gaps.  

I am so thankful.

O, my Strength, I sing praise to you;

You, O God, are my fortress, my loving God.

Psalm 59:17

His Captive

I have a funny little memory that is very special to me ~ a sweet God moment. I was sitting alone on my little twin bed in my high school bedroom, my legs were crossed and I was stressed. I was wrestling with God over a typical 17 year old girl problem. I knew what God was asking me to do, but I was giving Him an earful of what if's. "But, what if... And, then... And, what will I do when..." I was gone, out of control, nearly hysterical arguing with Him!! Didn't He understand all the ways this decision might affect me socially?? Didn't He see how my silly little world might crumble before me?? And, then, in the middle of my crying out, sobbing, head down looking at my comforter, He did something so amazing and personal that I still love to think about it. It was as if He clapped His hands to silence me. He commanded my attention. He broke through my hysteria. And, He lifted my head. Literally, as if His hand was under my chin pushing my head up, it moved. And, my eyes focused on the left corner of my room right beside my window. And, He said to me, "Keep your eyes fixed on me. Do not look to the left or to the right. There are a lot of what ifs and could be's to the left and to the right. But, I am asking you to put on your blinders, and look only at Me. Trust Me."

And, I did.

And, I never, ever looked back.

And, it was a pivotal moment in my life.

And, I cannot tell you how many times as I have wrested through decisions in life, He has taken me back to that night in my mind and said, "Child, do not look to the left or the right. Keep your gaze fixed on Me."

Yesterday, I had another one of those moments. I've been struggling with something for several days now, really struggling, wavering, stressing, lacking peace. So, yesterday afternoon I did what I usually do when I am feeling this way. I stormed my CD collection for anything by Christy Nockels. Because for some reason, so often God meets me there, in one of her songs, in her God-given words. So, I put on my Watermark's Grateful People CD and went on about my business. A little while later I was caught completely off guard by the song Captivate Us. I was holding Erik Daniel, and we stood in front of the CD player and listened as God poured His sweetness over me. He reminded me, very gently, that the answers to my concerns are not found to the right or to the left. The answers are not found in the what if's and could be's. The answers are found in one place, in one place only, in Him. And, even if the what if's are reasonable concerns, they should not have become my focus. They were captivating me which I suppose means that I was their captive! And, like Peter focusing on the wind and the waves, I lost my balance, my focus, my security, and my peace.

Captivate Us, Lord Jesus, set our eyes on You. Devastate us with Your mercy falling down. . .

It is my prayer ~ to be His captive ~ no one else's, nothing else's.

Ovewhelmed

Yesterday was a good day.

Every once in a while I have a day where it is like the blinders of busyness come off, and I realize, as if for the first time, that. . .

I am soooo blessed!!!!!!

I have the privilege of being a mama to a brood of young men, and, not to mention, I get to be the wife of the man of my dreams!!!! Yes, there is stress, overwhelmingly so at times, and there are meltdowns and boo boos. And, no, I do not know what tomorrow holds for us. But, there is today, and today is good. And, that is all I need to know right now. And, my heart can rejoice in this moment, in this day, in this life!!! Thanks to Jesus Who is ever patient with my, in general, lack of gratitude!!!

And, yesterday was one of those days where I was, for a lack of better words, overwhelmed.

For hours yesterday our swimming pool was full ~ four little boys and one big boy and the woman that adores them unceasingly!

We swam and played and grilled and ate and talked and laughed and splashed and carried on like the crazy family that we are!

Then, we shared some food with our neighbors, bathed the boys, and put their worn out, clean little bodies in their warm cozy beds.

And, after that, Erik and I sat poolside and talked for awhile before deciding to swim once again!! It was a beautiful night in our little piece of the country! The sky was full of stars and the trees of fireflies.

And, I was overwhelmed again and again and again.

Playing Quarterback. . .

We watched a good bit of football on Saturday, so I am not sure what game was on when I heard it. If I had to bet, I'd say Alabama/LSU. Though I was cheering and sorely disappointed when LSU lost, something one of the commentators said about the Alabama(I think) quarterback caught my attention. He said, and this is an extremely rough transcription, "I'm proud of him. He took some risks during this game, and he doesn't usually do that. He needs to take more risks. You can't be a great quarterback if you are afraid to take risks. And, yeah, some of the risks hurt him ~ the ball was intercepted, he lost some yards. But, he has to learn that you can make mistakes and move on. The game goes on. And, you know what? You can even be successful after taking some risks and making some mistakes. You can even be successful after making some mistakes in a game against a team like LSU. And, he needs to know that. He'll be a better quarterback having learned that."

I don't remember what I was doing. I was not sitting and watching the game. I was probably cleaning up the kitchen while taking care of boys, etc. And, I had heard nothing before this little quote, and I heard nothing after, but this commentator had my attention and spoke deeply into the hidden fear-filled places of my heart.

First of all, I don't want to play quarterback. Yes, I would enjoy the accolades that a star quarterback receives, but I am perfectionist, and I fear, terribly, making mistakes, doing things wrong, disappointing someone, shouldering the responsibility, and having regrets. Regrets ~ especially terrify me. But, what if later I wish that I had. . . or what if later this leads to. . . And, so I struggle. Because we all have to play quarterback sometimes. There are some decisions that only we can make for ourselves. It is one of the reasons I love to be married. Erik says, "Jump!" And, I say, "How high?" I love to follow. I actually enjoy being told what to do. I have to watch myself because without realizing it at times I let my little ones order me around. They say, "Juice!" And, I say, "Will that be white grape, purple grape, or apple?" I love to please, and I love to serve ~ but making big decisions, taking big risks? No, not so much.

So, today I find myself in the quarterback's cleats, ball in hand, eyes searching the field for open receivers, and I am about to get sacked. I woke up at 2 last night debating the same age old debate, and it kept me awake until 5. I wrestled, prayed, thought, debated, you know the drill. You've done it, I'm sure. And, now I am worn out, emotionally, physically, and spiritually.

So, why am I so afraid? Why have I not learned what the above quote says?

I'll tell you why.

Because I believe in playing it safe.

I like safety nets. I like seat belts and car seats and air bags and safety harnesses and fire alarms and helmets and knee pads. I'm not a risk-taker. I feel like I am living on the edge and being risky when I cut my son's grapes into halves instead of into fourths.

Seriously.

I have a huge choking fear, but that is not important here and now in my present state of indecision. I'm just saying. . .

I have issues with risk-taking. But, sometimes, you have to do things that might upset someone else. And, sometimes the right thing to do is the hardest thing. And, one of these days I am going to sacrifice the pleaser in me. And, then, maybe, finally, I will be able to see clearly without looking through other people's eyes, but rather looking at my situation through my God-given eyes. Why, oh, why do I worry so about what others think? About failing? About perceptions? About not being perfect?

Maybe this is my game. Maybe this time I will take risks instead of playing it safe. Maybe. And, maybe I will learn that the game will go on ~ good decision or big mistake ~ the game will go on, and I will learn that in the end I'm okay, and my kids are okay, and it is all okay.

But, I'll never know if I never take a risk.

Down. Set. Hut. . .

The Hardest Part About Going on Vacation. . .

is coming home.

Period.

End of sentence.

Erik, the boys, my mom, and I spent the end of last week and the weekend at a resort in Destin. We had an amazing time. Playing with the boys, feeling their excitement, their enthusiasm, their utter joy made me feel young and free and to use a very surfacey word ~ happy. I had the best time. We ate at restaurants where the ocean breeze blew through our hair. We laughed out loud. Erik and I went out on two, count them, two, romantic dates in one week! And, on one of those dates I felt his heart, his soul as he talked to me, so deeply that I realized once again what it means to "be one." I got to shop with my mom, watch a few good football games, go canoeing for the first time, swim in a gorgeous pool with mosaic frogs spitting water on my head :-), take a few leisurely strolls oceanside, and listen to my boys howl with laughter. It was wonderful ~ everything that a vacation should be.

But, unfortunately, now it is over.

And, my heart is sad.

About an hour ago, I looked over at the computer and a beach picture that I downloaded last night flashed up as part of our screen saver. And, as my eyes fell upon the image, I literally felt my heart drop and my tummy churn. A heaviness and a strange longing came over me. What I wouldn't give for another day, just one. more. day! As a family we have so many vacations to look forward to, and I thought about that a lot as I took in the last few days. These fun vacations of chasing little boys in the sun will not be forever. We are so blessed to be enjoying them now! But, this vacation in many ways was special. The last six months have been, for a lack of a better word, serious. They have been hard and sad, difficult and busy, painful and overwhelming. They have ushered a new season into my husband's life and mine and the boys' lives as well. And, the warm ocean air was like a healing balm to our mending hearts.

But, yesterday we had to come home.

And, it has been more difficult than I ever imagined it would be.

Vacations, true vacations, are funny things, really. Because when you are away, you virtually forget that your other life, your real life, even exists. You live in the moment. You make plans no further than an hour or two in advance. You feel carefree ~ laughter comes easy, as well as, tears.

And, then upon returning home, you are reminded, abruptly ~ I might add, that real life does very much exist, and it is depending on you. And, quickly we are once again swept up into the ordinary, everyday life that we live.

This morning I woke up at five to a to do list so big I didn't even take the time to sit down and write it. I just dove in head first and completely overwhelmed. I have mountains of laundry, an entire mountain chain, actually. My mac isn't working, and our PC is slowing dying. I have bills to pay and so many thank you notes to write that I am scared to start. I sent Joshua to school only to realize at 10:00 that I forgot to put his spelling and his speech notebook in his backpack. I have phone calls to make, moms in touch meetings to begin, checks to order (how did I let myself run out completely before I reordered??), bags upon bags to go through and put away, counters full of clutter to put away, grocery shopping to do, a dog to pick up at the vet, and dinner to plan and make. Not to mention four children to diaper, nurse, feed, and help do homework. So, I'm not sure what is more difficult the back to life, back to reality aspect of being home or the inner longing to be alone with the ones I love most with no responsibilities except to fill our days with as much sun and fun as is possible in 24 hours.

Erik will have to work late tonight in order to catch up on the days that he missed. And, he has college Bible study on Wednesday night, a Jr. College game on Thursday night, a high school game on Friday night, and a duathalon on Saturday. We are back to the busyness that is our life in this sweet little town in which we live.

I just think that the older I get the more I appreciate the good times and, perhaps, the bad as well. And, I am realizing that things will never be perfect, and for a perfectionist that is a big realization. But, somehow, magically, they appear perfect in hindsight, perfectly sweet memories created and woven together by a good and loving God. And, I can't wait to write about them. As soon as my crazy life and my crazy PC give me the opportunity to do so!

Nothing More

I just poured my last cup of morning coffee. Whether or not I will make a second pot at nap time has yet to be decided. I'm leaning toward chai today for my afternoon cup of peace.

About three feet from me are two little boys playing together nicely. JCT and Elijah are playing with their little superhero action figures while Erik Daniel is crawling from one end of the downstairs to the other. He is presently under the kitchen table chewing on a plastic play cooking utensil. I can hear three things aside from the obvious children playing sounds.

One- the gentle hum of the washing machine cleaning the guest room sheets from Pop's visit this past weekend.
Two - the CD player playing the song I walked down the aisle to - Cradle Prayer by Rebecca St. James.
And, three - the roar of a lawn mower cutting our grass.

Life is not perfect here in our neck of the woods, but it sure is good. Ours is a happy home. It may be, at times, chaotic and loud, but it is always filled to the brim with love and laughter.

The older I get, the older my children get, I am realizing that the greatest things, the most wonderful, most memorable things are not certain major events, vacations, or milestones, they are the everyday ordinary things.

Things like waking to Erik's soft sweet kiss every morning. Like the fact that all our little boys still want to sit in our laps when they first wake up in the morning. The fact that nothing makes my big boy's day like a surprise lunchroom visit from Mommy. Listening to Erik Daniel belly laugh when we play peek a boo. Almost tripping over JCT's frog boots sitting outside the backdoor. Watching Joshua run to the car with pure joy at the end of long day at school. Getting to be the damsel in distress that my sons fight to rescue every afternoon. Pushing my boys on the swing set and playing hide and seek. Making dinner while children play at my feet. Dinnertime conversations and the smile dessert brings. Watching Erik throw the football with the boys at sunset still dressed in khakis and a dress shirt. Bubble-headed boys laughing and playing while Daddy tries to bathe them. Kissing and tucking clean, sweet smelling little boys into bed after a full day of play. Moonlight walks with Erik when we take the dog out for the last time before bed. Ending the day sitting beside my love on the couch discussing his day, my day, how we are doing, how our kids are doing, and our plans for the upcoming weekend. Falling asleep holding hands. Waking sometime in the dark of night to the familiar sound of my baby's cry. Stumbling in the dark to find my sleepy baby crying in crib, picking him up - his crying instantly stops, and soothing him back to sleep the way only Mama can. Then waking once again to Erik's soft sweet kiss.

Comfy, cozy home love. There is nothing like it.

I could ask for nothing more.

Heart Yearnings. . .

Have you ever wanted something really badly but felt that God was saying, "Not now," or, "Not yet," or maybe just simply saying, "I have another plan. Trust Me." But, your heart aches a little because you want it so badly.

I'm going to let you in on a little secret. I am a homeschool mom want-to-be. I remember the first time that I heard about homeschooling. I was in high school, and I remember wishing that my mom would drop her life and homeschool me! I loved the idea. My big sister homeschooled her older four children, and several of Erik and my very best friends have chosen to homeschool. And, their kids are awesome ~ confident, full of Godly character, well-mannered, and do awesome in social settings. These parents don't homeschool in order to shelter their kids. Their kids are involved in lots of activities and more importantly lots of ministries. The fact that their kids are not exposed to certain things until later is simply an added bonus, their main motivation for homeschooling is simply to be able to spend more time with their children ~ time they use to not only build an awesome relationship with their kids, but also they are using the extra time to focus on character issues and spiritual growth. The Daniel in Erik Daniel came from Erik's Godson who is one of these amazing kids. It has been such a joy for us to watch as God has used Daniel's parents to mold him into the awesome young man that he is today. And, he is just one of many. . . ahem. . . Tim Tebow. . . :-)

And, I'll be honest, it bothered me last year that Joshua's teacher got to spend more time with him during the day than I did. I missed his sweet face at lunchtime. I missed him when I walked Rain while the younger boys napped. I missed him off and on all day nearly everyday. I do think that kids need to spread their wings, to be out in the world, to be away from their parents, but to be gone so much when they are so very young is simply hard for me to swallow.

Thus, I felt the desire welling up in me to homeschool him at least for the early years. I love the idea of homeschool. I want the folders, the lesson plans, the choice of curriculum. I want to spend hours teaching them scripture ~ growing in them a love for God's precious Words. I want to have school outside on a blanket under the shade of one of our Oak trees. I want the boys to say the pledge to a flag hanging from my front porch. I want the high fives when they finally get something that we have been working hard on. I want the trips to the nursing home, local orphanage, and not to mention the fun field trips we could go on. I want the bonding of brothers through hours and hours of outside playtime. I want to do science lessons in the backyard ~ hands on, of course. But more than anything I want the time with my boys. Time is a slippery slope, and it is a rich commodity. Before I know it, Joshua will be out of elementary school, middle school, high school, and college. Whew! But, I will say that mostly my desire to homeschool is selfish. I am happiest, most at peace (imagine that with four boys :-) when my children are all around me! I love them. I mean it. Like crazy. And, they say that in second and third grade the kids at our school have 2 to 4 hours of homework a night. So, between homework and extracurricular activities where is the time Erik and I desire to pour spiritually, emotionally, and playfully into our children? I must admit that I fear we will get caught up in the activity, lose sight of the goal, and be carried away with the tide and before we know it they will one by one be gone. Makes me want to get pregnant again! :-) (Just kidding!)

Little disclaimer: I am writing this so that when Joshua and his wife are grown, married, and have kids they will know that Erik and I sought God's face like crazy about the decisions that we made. I want Joshua to know, and I have shared all this with him, but he is only 6, so I feel compelled to journal it. Just for the record, I do not feel that it is God's will to pull all Christian kids out of the public school system. I simply do not. That would be too easy, and God is not about easy. He is about us seeking Him face down with all that we are and listening to his sweet whispering deep within our souls. On the flip side, I get frustrated with the stereotype that says homeschooling is sheltering, overprotecting, and holding a child back socially. When done well, homeschool is not like this. The important thing, I am learning, is that it is not about whether we homeschool or send Joshua to school, it is about our listening to our Creator and allowing Him to lead and guide all of our decisions ~ and modeling this for our children.

Okay back to the story. . . So, last year we prayed about homeschooling, and we felt we were to send Joshua, and God confirmed this to us in little ways and big ways but that is another story. Anyway, I have been praying fervently since the middle of the year last year that if God wanted us to pull Joshua out in first grade that He would make it clear. I prayed that He would reveal it to Erik without my saying anything to him. I waited. Nothing happened, but I really wanted to homeschool, and the summer was well underway. (And, by the way Joshua had a great kindergarten experience. This has nothing to do with his school only to do with my heart.) So, I broke down and told Erik what my heart was screaming. So, he began praying with me. We have prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed. I can honestly say that besides the health of his mother we have never unitedly cried out to God for anything with this much fervor. But, He wasn't really showing us anything either way. And, I wanted so badly for Him to let us know in undeniable ways that Joshua. should. stay. home., but He didn't. So, we have been uncertain for the last few weeks. Our uncertainty coming from an inner peace that we were both lacking about homeschool. And, I must admit as much as I have wanted it (still do) something just wouldn't settle. Something just didn't feel right. But, I had one last hope. . .

In the first grade their are 5 teachers. One has taught for years and is supposedly WONDERFUL (also known for being great with little boys - raised 3 of her own), then there are three that are good, and then there is one that several people warned us that we do not want Joshua to have. One mother, through tears, told me of her child's experience under this particular teacher. So, Erik made the decision that if Joshua got her the deal would be done -bring him home! I think that I was the only mother hoping that my child would get this teacher! Erik and I prayed so hard, and the night before orientation we were leaning heavily on the side of homeschooling. But, then I woke up at 1 a.m. to feed a sweet little fuzzy headed baby, and I couldn't go back to sleep. I stayed up until after 3 wrestling with God and with myself. I kept crying out to God, "Don't be silent. Speak Your Thoughts. We want what You want! Why can I not hear You, see You, feel Your heart on this! Don't you want me to do this? Don't You want me to homeschool?" So, when we got up the next morning I told Erik about my restless night, and we made the decision that I would go to orientation without Joshua. We needed confirmation. I felt so uncertain that I was supposed to bring him home ~ so uncertain that I needed to hear that he had been put in the class of the teacher who would close the deal for us.

It was a very rainy day. I prayed all the way to school. I prayed for clarity, for God to speak, for me to know as I walked those familiar halls. But, in my heart I just knew that he was going to get one of the "good" teachers which really wouldn't make a statement either way.

So, I walked in the school hardly making eye contact with anyone, dodging questions about where Joshua was, and shaking like a scared cat. I could hardly fill out my paperwork. My hands were shaking so badly! After I went through the process, I walked up to a good friend of ours whose job was to tell me what classroom to go to. . .

This was it. . .

My heart was literally in my throat. . .

She handed me a sheet of paper and said the name of his teacher with a knowingly sweet smile. . .

He got the AWESOME teacher. :-(

So, I smiled a somewhat fake half-smile back at her, told myself that this was not over, maybe I won't like her, maybe God will give me discernment in the classroom ~ discernment telling me that we should homeschool Joshua. . . Just because he got the wonderful one did not mean that this was right. I would have to feel within my spirit that this was right, and I was not there. . . yet, anyway.

I got to the classroom. She greeted me at the door, motherly, sweet, asking about Erik's parents right off the bat (never met her before). She told me to pick a seat for Joshua. Of course, I picked a place front and center. She sat in the seat next to mine and talked with me as I filled out more paperwork. Here are a few excerpts. . .

Me: I really have issues with being away from my child all day. It just seems to be such a long time. . .

Her: I agree. Know that you are welcome in my classroom anytime. I do things the same if you are here or if you are not, so you are more than welcome to come observe anytime you like. You can just sit back and watch, or if you would like to come and read to the class, I would love that!

Me: I really like to bake. I don't know how many fun things you do in first grade, but if you let me know, I'll bake something related to your theme. . .

Her: Oh, we do lots of fun things in first grade! And, I love to bake, too. We actually bake a lot in the classroom! We will make butter. We will make applesauce, biscuits and jelly. We will do lots of baking right here in the classroom. And, on the days we bake, I love to have an extra set of hands. I would love it if you would come and help on those days!

Me: Well, what about homework?

Her: Well, I have a different philosophy than some of the other teachers. Every night they will be sent home with a different reader which they will have to read. These readers will take only 2-3 minutes to read for most children. I give homework on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday nights only, and it will take no more than 30 minutes to do and that includes the time it takes to read the readers.

Me: Well, what about tests?

Her: They will be tested every Friday, but you will be well informed of what will be on the tests. There will be no surprises. In fact, the first test will be simply for practice. I'll be easy on them. I was a mother, too.

Good grief.

I was beginning to feel my control grip loosening, as God seemed to be whispering, "I have prepared the way for him. . ." I could literally feel the little pieces being put together before me. It wasn't just circumstantial. God was speaking peace to my soul.

Ugghhh.

A few minutes later a little boy that we know came in with his grandparents. The little boy and his family are patients of Erik's. The sweet teacher got down on his level and said, "S., I want you to sit by your friends. I know that when I go somewhere new I like to sit by my friends, so I want you to be able to pick who you sit beside. And, I don't mind if you talk sometimes. There will be times when it is fine for you to talk to those around you. But, when I stand up at the board and when I am talking, you have to be quiet and listen. As long as you can do that, I will be glad to let you sit by your friends." The little boy said he wanted to sit by Joshua.

As I walked around the room looking for a red flag from God, I noticed that the names of Joshua's classmates were laminated and placed in rows on a bulletin board. I began to read the names, and my jaw dropped. Out of 5 classrooms, Joshua's two very best friends were in his class. One of the boys he has played with since he was 2. The other he met in kindergarten ~ they were inseparable last year. Both a little on the timid side, they clung to each other like crazy last year. I never dreamed that God would put them in the same classroom again! The thought never even crossed my mind. Then, I saw the clincher, and I had to smile. Among the names of Joshua's classmates was. . .

"Jesus."

Seriously, Jesus is in Joshua's class. My heart chuckled. God has a sense of humor that absolutely floors me at times. So, I glanced back at the teacher, smiled and said, "Well, I feel much better knowing that Jesus will be in Joshua's class." She smiled and said, "Me, too!!"

I can't wait to meet Jesus! As if no one has ever said it to him, I am going to say, "Jesus, I have always wanted to meet you face to face!!!!!!" :-)

Oh, I digress. So, I said goodbye, walked out into the hall, (somewhat in a state of shock) and if all this was not enough, I saw her. She is a pastor's wife and for months she has been on my heart to talk to about Moms in Touch. And, there she stood waiting in line with two of her children. I took a second to talk with her about my heart for praying for the our children, their teachers, the school, and the school board. She was very interested, and we made plans to talk further about it. I walked to my van in the rain half laughing at how clear it all seemed ~ Joshua to be in school and me to pick up where I left off with Moms in Touch. I called Erik and began the conversation saying, "You are never going to believe this. . ." I could hear him smiling as I told him of all the little things that for us added up to God saying, "Not this year. . ."

But, that is not to say that He will not say "Yes!" to me homeschooling next year! :-)

Year by year following His lead, it makes this journey an unpredictable adventure!!!

Following Free. . .

In this world. . .

but not of it.

So, how do we know where to draw the line? I like precision. perfection. But, God asks us to read His word, to seek His face, to trust and obey. And, that looks different for you and for me. He didn't call all of us to send our kids to Christian schools. He didn't call all of us to go overseas as missionaries. He didn't call all of us to live in really cool towns with megachurch pastors that inspire us to live like Christ daily. He called us to different places and different missions. And, that is really hard for me.

Ever since I became a mom, it has been a huge passion of mine. And, I have wanted to do it well. I spent the first two or three years begging God each morning to send me a mommy mentor. I wanted someone who lived close to me that I could meet with on a regular basis, someone who could inspire me, someone that I could imitate. But, my prayer was never answered. No Godly mama came out of the woodwork of my small town and asked me to follow her as she followed Christ. And, a few years ago God revealed something to me about all this. Basically, He said, "If I had given you what you asked, you would have followed her and not Me. I called you to something unique to you. Now keep your eyes on Me."

I tend to obsess over purity. This world is amazingly corrupt, and I long for my boys to be pure. But, you can't even watch a football game anymore without seeing commercials, cheerleaders, things that could lead their sweet little minds astray. And, that drives me crazy. I really like the whole raise them in a bubble idea. It seriously appeals to me, but unfortunately it is completely unrealistic.

I watched the Dugger boy get married on TLC's 17 Kids and Counting a few weeks ago. And, in many ways it reminded me of Erik and I. Although, we had kissed a few times before our wedding day. Not many times though, Erik wanted so badly for both of us to be pure that he would call off all kissing from time to time. But, anyway, I couldn't get that silly Dugger boy off my mind for several days.

Then, I went to lunch with my friend Sara. And, we spent a lot of the meal talking about King David and Queen Esther. We discussed our views of purity, and asked each other questions like, "How could God call David a man after His own heart after what he had done?" We discussed different things in the Old Testament like men that had several wives, or kings with concubines, things that baffle us. And, thoughts of our conversation followed me through the next couple of days.

And, over the next week, because I am seriously obsessed with my sons' purity, I continued to ponder all these things. In my mind I compared and contrasted my Erik with the Dugger boy. Erik grew up in New Orleans by parents who were not overly strict. They trusted their boys a good bit. He went to a Christian private school, Christian in name only, I assure you, and he was allowed to date without chaperones. And, the Dugger boy grew up homeschooled and very much monitored by his loving parents ~ little to no TV and limited access to the internet, and no dating ~ he found his wife through courtship. The two have marked differences in their background.

But, yet both were pure when they married. And, both claim to love God. And, I can honestly say that no one has ever been more of a picture of Christ to me than my husband. He is a selfless soul. He loves God with passion and not just words. He lives it daily. Period. And, if I knew the Dugger boy, I'd probably say the same thing about him.

So, now I am going to attempt to come full circle in my thoughts. As I watched the Duggers, part of me wanted to pull Joshua out of school and home school him, to shelter him as they do their children. But, then I thought of my Erik and how he has impacted lives all along the way from his early school days to his medical residency days. His residency director said it best when he said of Erik at his residency graduation ceremony, "Erik is the gospel in tennis shoes." He is Christ to others at church on Sunday and Christ to others on his 3rd night of call in a week. He leaves an impression everywhere he goes. And, if I knew the Dugger boy, I'd likely say the same thing about him.

So, what does God have for my boys?

I'm just not sure. But, I know one thing. It is for them to be like Christ, to walk like Him and talk like Him and act like Him at home, at school, at work, in all of their lives, in every single moment of every single day, breath by breath.

And, though I know that it is God's will for my boys to be pure, to remain pure, holy, set apart in this corrupt generation, I also know that just like with King David and Queen Esther, He is much more interested in their hearts, in their relationship with Him than He is in their legalistic purity. I say this not at all to downplay purity. It is my desire that my boys are able to experience what Erik and I have been blessed to experience going into our marriage pure. But, it is my even greater desire that they experience a true, genuine, intimate, daily, walking breath by breath relationship with their Creator.

So, I guess what God showed me through all of this is that He calls each of us to follow Him daily, to walk with Him, and to allow Him to lead us wherever He desires to lead us. And, if that means that God wants us to pull Joshua out of school next year and home school him and teach him daily what it means to walk with Christ and not just go to church or walk an aisle, then, glory to God, we are all there! And, if God leads Erik and I to keep Joshua in school, to trust Him to walk with our little man there, and through the years, to use our little man as a catalyst there, then, glory to God, we are all there, too!

I guess this is what freedom in Christ is all about, but, man, is it hard for me. Most days I'd prefer a book of dos and don'ts. Following a plan, a schedule, a list is easy but following Christ that is an entirely different thing! He is like the wind, blowing to and fro, wherever He chooses. Unpredictable. Reckless. Free. Following Him takes discipline, focus, and a humble, teachable heart. It takes being quiet in a very loud world. It takes love and patience. It takes perseverance. It takes all I have, all that I am, and that is exactly what He desires of me.

He has more faith in me than I do in myself that is for sure!

Goodness, I love Him!

Sweet Days. . .

Being a mama is hard.

So, hard.

And, I am discovering that it only gets more difficult with each new stage. First, there is the lack of sleep stage/fussy baby stage. I remember with Joshua trying so hard to figure out why he was crying. Was he hungry, did he need to eat? Or, was his tummy hurting, and in that case feeding him might just cause him more pain? Or, was he simply overtired? Do I let him cry himself to sleep or is that cruel? It all seemed so difficult, so confusing, and though there were a thousand books out there to read, none of them were written about Joshua by someone who really could give me the answers that I wanted/needed. Unfortunately, he didn't come with a detailed owner's manual.

Next, there is the temper tantrum stage. Oh, Lord, have mercy on my soul! JCT has this stage mastered. This stage lasted about 2 months with my Joshua, but my JCT, my darling JCT, has been in this stage for nearly 2 years now! And, though, I can honestly say tantrums don't happen often, when they do, they aren't fun, and I do not like them, not one little bit. Elijah began this stage a few months ago, and so the two have overlapped on me, and, really, there should be rules against such.

And, I guess that I would have to say the next stage involves letting them leave the nest for a bit of time each day to go to school. Oh, my heart! My heart has left my body, and he is walking around at school all day. And, this stage can be so hard when feelings get hurt, when things are seemingly so unfair.

I called my sister a few months ago to complain. Her first four were born all in four years. So, she completely gets my life. And, I bow before her majesty, the Queen mom, because she now has double the number of children that I have. And, every time that I call her to complain, I preface my complaint with, "I know your life is a lot more difficult than mine, but remember back to when you only had four kids. . ."

So when I called this particular day, I was looking for empathy. Four needy children clammoring around me was driving me insane! I mean really does Elijah have to be held 24/7? My arms can only bear so much, and Erik Daniel needs to be held, too. And, JCT wants help with everything! Can't he play something that he can do by himself, something that doesn't require my constant attention. I mean really there is only one of me. I can only be stretched so far, and I am warning you guys I may break. Seriously, break, break into a billion pieces on the floor.

But, you'll never believe it, instead of empathy from my sis, I heard her sighing sweet sighs, as I described the details of my seemingly difficult life. The gist of what she said in response to my complaints was. . .

"Those are such sweet days, Erin. Enjoy them! There are wonderful things about having teenagers. They are independent. They are fun. They become like friends to you, but, Erin, they are gone so often. Between school and sports and work and church and friends, I don't see them that often. Family dinner has become a joke. I make dinner, and we all eat it on the go. When we do things "as a family," it is usually just Kurt and me and the little girls. The big kids are just gone so much now. The days that you are in right now are hard physically. The days that I am in right now are hard emotionally. I know it can be difficult, but those days are so sweet. Really, Erin, they are. Enjoy them. They'll be gone before you know it."

And, something in her voice sounded a bit like a longing, like she missed these days that she called "sweet." This truly impacted me. I think about her words nearly every single day. She has altered my perspective. The reason that I know that her words have impacted me is that I had this conversation with her before Thanksgiving, and I still can't get it out of my mind.

Now when I look at the little one standing at my feet, pulling on my pant leg, saying, "Com-on! Pay wit' me! Com-on,"I envision him as a teenager walking out the door, kissing me goodbye, and going off to do whatever it is that God called him to do that day, leaving me to do my housework alone, with no one to follow behind and mess up everything that I straighten, with no one to beg me to let him help fold laundry or put away clean dishes, with no one standing at my feet begging me to hold him or "pay wit" him. And, my heart pauses as I look at the sweet face of the one looking up at me, and suddenly I am not as frustrated, not as overwhelmed, not as aggravated, and not as impatient. And, I feel drawn to join in their play, drawn to kiss their chubby soft cheeks, drawn to hold them close, to sit and watch Diego with a child in my lap, drawn to soak up each moment of their childhood before it is gone. . .

All the stages are sweet. I love them all, and, at times, I dislike them all. But, all in all, the stages are wonderful, each is precious to my heart. I have watched my Joshua grow into a little man at school this year. And, this, more than anything, has made me realize that Kristin is right ~ time does go by so quickly. They will not be babies forever, even if it seems like it some days. I will not always have a baby in tow. One day shopping trips will be easier, dinners out at restraunts will be easier, traveling will be easier, but I won't have babies. I won't have little ones flocking to my side. I will never be here again.

And, there are wonderful things about being here.

Yes, here is a wonderful place to be.

I wouldn't want to be anywhere else,

anywhere on earth,

other than right here, right now.

Life is good.

Often it is hard.

But, it is always good.

How could it not be good when I get to spend my days with these smiling faces?

Sweet days.

From an Acorn to an Oak Tree. . .

Today is perfect. It is cool and overcast. So, I began praying early this morning that God would be so generous as to allow this tired young mother an hour of peace in the afternoon. I prayed that the gray, dreary day would cause my young ones to fall fast asleep at naptime. And, guess what. . .

It is 1:06, and I am sitting at my computer desk, a hot cup of coffee by my side, and only the muffled sound of white noise coming from my various baby monitors. Peace. Thank You, sweet Lord, thank you.

As I drove home from JCT's preschool I was thinking about trees. They are so beautiful in Autumn. I was thinking about the beautiful hickory in our backyard. And, I was thinking about how maple trees stand out with their lush orange colors this time of year. . . and Bradford Pear trees with their burgundy hues. And, I can't leave out the Crepe Myrtles that look like literal flames with all their yellow, orange, and red colors intertwined. But, oak trees, those big huge oak trees, they don't really stand out during this season. I'm sure there are some gorgeous Oaks out there, but most of the ones around our home simply turn a dull orangish brown, and there isn't a lot of glory in dull orangish brown.

So, anyway, as I pulled into our driveway an old brown Oak tree in our backyard caught my eye. And, I began to think about it's apparent lack of color and that reminded me of a book that I purchased recently.

I was at Fred's. I never go to Fred's. Never. Nothing against Fred's, I'm just a Wal-Mart girl. But, nonetheless, I was in Fred's, and I saw a beautiful hardback book by Max Lucado for 5.99. And, with a name like, The Oak inside the Acorn, how could I turn it down? So, I bought it, brought it home, and forgot about it. . .

until I saw that Oak in the backyard ~ it reminded me. So, I brought the babes all in the house. And, quickly wisked Lijah off to his crib for naptime. It was as dark as late evening in his sweet quiet room. Next, I nursed Erik Daniel and rocked him in my arms until his little eyelids fell. Then, I lay him in his bed to rest. Ahhhhh. . . .

Almost there! JCT asked me to carry him to his room, so I knew he was tired! I carried my 40 pound baby up the steps and lay him in his trundle bed. Then, I went to the boy's bookshelf, found the almost forgotten book, sat down beside JCT, and began reading. . .

I knew that I would like the story because I love acorns. The boys love to hunt them, and I love the thought that mighty Oaks come from these cute tiny little acorns! I often think of my little boys as acorns. And, the book did not disappoint.

Last night at Moms in Touch we prayed that our children would "be the person God created them to be." We prayed that they would not look at others and wish that they looked like or were gifted athletically or intellectually like those around them. We prayed that their confidence would rest in the fact that God loves them, and He created them with a purpose only they can fulfill.

Contentment. Confidence. And, a sense of Purpose.

If only I had already read this book, I would have brought it with me to our meeting last night. It speaks perfectly to this prayer for our children. I spent so many years longing to be prettier, smarter, more athletic, more outgoing, a better cook, more creative, taller, more organized, more decisive, more confident, more healthy, etc. And, I still struggle with this. In fact, it is a common prayer that I pray. . . "Lord, help me not to look to the left or to the right, but to look only at You." I am easily distracted, easily drawn to compare myself to others.

And, that breeds a lack of contentment, confidence, and in it I lose the sense of purpose God placed deep in my heart ~ that internal compass that keeps me on His path.

And, I think that is why this book touched me so.

I sing the same songs to JCT everyday at naptime. And, one of them struck me today as I cradled my sleepy acorn in my arms. These words came out of my mouth in a somewhat melodic way. . .

"And, one day when you're older and taller than me, I'll say I watched you grow like a beautiful tree. . ."

I have little acorns clinging to my branches. We are all very comfortable with this situation. I hold them close, and they cling to me. But, one day God will call my little acorns to leave my branches, fall to the earth, and stand on their own.

And, it is my prayer, little men, that you will grow to be strong Oak trees, or Maples, or Hickorys, or Orange trees, or whatever God called you to be. Be that. Don't try to be like your friends or eachother or even your sweet Daddy. Be who God created you to be. It is the easiest and best thing for you to be. And, I cannot wait to see the unique ways that God has gifted each of you. He has a special purpose for each of your lives, and I can't wait to know exactly what that is!

Cling tight to me little acorns, and I will hold you close. But, one day when God whispers to your sweet heart that it is time to let go, go forth, little acorn, go forth and be. Be all that He called you to be.

I love you, my little men.

Your Mommy

The Crunch Beneath My Feet. . .

When I was little girl, we lived in Memphis for two years, Germantown, to be exact. And, the neighborhood we lived in was very pretty. There were lots of large southern style homes with yards covered in big trees. And, it was during these two years living in this neighborhood that I discovered my two favorite sounds.

The first is the sound of horse hooves on concrete. If you haven't heard it, buy a horse. It would totally be worth it, well maybe. . .

Anyway, I was at a birthday party about 3 houses down from my home, and it was at this party that I first heard this wonderful sound. The parents of my friend rented a horse for her party, and we all took turns riding the horse up and down their driveway. I fell in love, not with the large beautiful animal, but rather with the clip clop of his feet. . .

The second sound that I adore is the sound of autumn leaves crunching under my feet. I am so silly, even though it was over twenty years ago, I still remember the day, the very day that the beauty of this sound first occurred to me. It was overcast and chilly, and I was walking to a friend's home in a cove just down the street. Leaves covered the sides of the road. I remember purposefully stepping on the leaves just so I could hear them crackle and crunch beneath my shoes. It was then that I decided fall was, hands down, my favorite season.

Fast forward 20 some-odd years. . .

Yesterday JCT and I took Rain out for his midday potty break. It was a sunny day with a cool breeze blowing. We held hands and walked slowly from the house to the road. Leaves covered the sides of the road. So, I did what I always do when I see leaves in the road ~ I stepped on them so that I could hear their crunch.

I asked JCT, "Did you hear that?" And, he looked up at me confused, "What?" "Listen, " I implored him, and then stepped purposefully on a dry brown leaf. "What sound did that leaf make?" I asked him. "A ccccrrrruuunnchhhhhhy sound," he answered smiling as he looked in front of his feet carefully for a leaf to step on. We spent the rest of Rain's potty break taking turns stepping on leaves and listening to them crackle and crunch beneath our shoes.

I loved every moment of it. I love JCT, and I love the sound of crunching leaves. It was such a joy to share one of my favorite sounds with him. It may be silly, but the memory of the two of us holding hands and crunching leaves under our feet is precious to me. Perfectly precious. You simply cannot buy memories like that. They are worth far more than money!

Selfless, Sacrificial Love. . .

And, so here I sit on a peaceful, easy Sunday morning, a half full cup of warm coffee at my side. Erik took Joshua, JCT, and Elijah to church, and I am at home with little bit. The house is calm. The baby is sleeping. Soft music is playing. I just finished my preps for this week's Moms in Touch meeting. I have about 45 minutes before the big boys return, and I have nothing that has to be done. Well, technically, I have a load of laundry waiting to be washed in the washer and a kitchen that could be straightened and a floor that is filthy and. . .

But, for now I am choosing to be still. In this stage of life, time to be still is often hard to come by. . .

I have been thinking a lot lately (surprise!). Erik and I had the privilege, thanks to some sweet friends, to see the movie Fireproof yesterday. And, I left the movie in deep thought. I was overwhelmed. It was a truly beautiful movie.

Lately I have been thinking about something that I think about a lot.

Selfishness.

I am selfish.

There, I said it.

And, I am married to the most selfless man alive, and since our wedding day that is the single area that he has challenged me in the most. He has challenges me by example alone. He never preaches. His actions are enough. And, it is fairly easy to be selfless when the person you are laying down your wants for is doing the same for you. But, it is another story completely when you are sacrificing your desires for little people who don't yet grasp the concept of selflessness.

I do for others, but deep down I want to meet my own needs first. Take for instance the mornings. I want to get up early enough to meet all my needs before I have to start meeting everyone else's needs. I want to get up in time to sit still and enjoy a cup of hot coffee, to take a nice long shower, to get dressed and make-up on before I have to make Joshua's lunch and get everyone ready for school/preschool.

Enter fourth child.

Now I am clinging desperately to every ounce of sleep that I can get. I rarely rise before 6:30. Some mornings I get a shower, often I don't. By the time I get to my cup of coffee it is cold, and I end up warming it up over and over and eventually the mug is forgotten in the microwave until the next morning when I go to put another cup of cold coffee in the microwave for warming.

It is the typical life of a mother, I guess. But, for me it was predestined. God knew that I needed to be broken, to be forced to learn to lay down my desires for the little ones that He placed in my womb. They have stretched me, challenged me, and taught me more than anyone thus far on my life's journey. And, I pray that on the other end of all this, that I will be different, chiseled, sharpened, selfless.

Maybe it is because selfless love is on the brain, but it seemed to me that sacrificial love was the theme of the movie Fireproof. God's sacrificial love that loves unconditionally even when we reject it over and over, it is still there. And, Caleb's learning to love Catherine selflessly.

I walked away from the movie, once again, challenged to give myself away to my God, my husband, my children, and my world. And, it isn't just the challenge to be selfless because I, alone, can do that ~ at least until I run out of steam. But, it is the challenge to love selflessly, because that is supernaturally inspired, and I alone cannot do that. I need the selfless love of Jesus overflowing out of my heart to love like that. Fill me, Lord. Because so many times, I lay down my desires over and over and end up feeling empty, martyred, and that doesn't feel pure, right, or selfless. That is me in my own strength attempting sacrificial love, and it simply does. not. work.

So, I am asking my sweet God, to fill me with His love, fill me to overflowing. Help me to die daily to those around me. Help me to be more concerned about meeting their needs and less concerned about meeting my own. Why do, I doubt? Why do I feel that if I don't meet my needs no one will look out for me, and my needs will go unmet. You are El Shaddai the all sufficient God, and You alone will meet my needs. I know in my head that if I concern myself with loving others and putting their needs first that You will take care of mine. May my heart believe it fully, too. I need not worry. You see me. You know my needs. You know the ones that are selfish and need not be met, and You know the needs that are necessary. I am safe in Your care. I lay my desires before You, and I pray that You will help this selfish little heart give itself away for Your glory, and never my own.

Bittersweet

I am head over heels in love with my new little man. He is a sweetheart. Pure peace. I am so thankful for his little life and for all that he adds to our family. We adore him.

A few weeks ago I had this strange fear that after he was born I would be so overwhelmed by having four children that I would for the first time struggle with post partum depression. I didn't tell anyone about my fear, but it was very much there. So much is changing in my life right now, so much is going on that I often feel a bit in over my head. Usually I am excited for the birth of a new baby, excited to nurse again, excited to hold and cuddle a new little one. But, this time I was so overwhelmed that even though I was excited I could have waited a month or two or three or eight.

But. . .

as soon as Erik placed Erik Daniel on my chest, everything changed. Completely. Wholeheartedly. Depression is the farthest thing from my present mindset. I am more at peace, more at ease, more joyful, and more patient with the big boys than I was 2 weeks ago. I love having a new little one in the house. I really love it. I cannot tell you how content and at peace I feel.

And, this is a good thing, but also it has also been very bittersweet. . .

Last week I was catching up on laundry that I had let pile up for a week and a half. I had about 4 baskets of laundry waiting for me to wash and 2 more baskets ready to be folded and put away. I decided that it was time to get down to it. As I began sorting darks and lights and delicates, I came across the navy blue Orvis shirt that Erik wore the morning Erik Daniel was born. Emotion overwhelmed me, and I put the shirt up to my face and tryed with all my might to smell something that would take me back to that day. But, all I could smell was the fading scent of Erik's cologne. I gently layed the shirt carefully into the darks pile and continued on with my work feeling a little bit on the melancholy side.

Then, later I took the baskets one by one to my bedroom and began folding and sorting them on my bed. As I neared the end of the last basket something again took me aback. Underneath several bath towels lay several maternity shirts that I had worn the week before Erik Daniel was born. One of them, my "Deliver me, O Lord" shirt, I had worn to the hospital the morning that I went into labor. Emotion again swept over me. I gently folded each of the shirts as a strange saddness crept over me.

It is over ~ and it may very well never happen again.

And, I love it.

I truly love being pregnant, giving birth, and having a tiny little one in my home.

We have always said we wanted to have 3 or 4 children. I decided when we were pregnant with Elijah that it had to be 4. I didn't even want to consider that Elijah might be my last.

Now, we have had our fourth, and it is so bittersweet ~ so much more than I ever imagined it would be. Everything hits me. From his cord falling off to seeing him smile for the first time, I am paying so much more attention to each detail. I am highly aware of each little baby milestone.

I love where our family is right now. In fact, the other day I threatened to put a brick on Joshua's head if he didn't quit growing! He just laughed at me! I guess it will always be this way. I don't want Erik Daniel to stay a newborn forever. Eventually I would get tired of the broken sleep. And, I cannot wait to see who God made him to be. I do want my boys to grow up to be husbands and daddys. . . eventually. Thankfully, that is a ways away, but when the time comes for them to go out into the world, when the drive off to college, when they get into that limousine with the girl of their dreams - birdseed in their hair - and they blow me one last kiss out the window, it will be bittersweet.

And, that is okay. It is okay for it to be bittersweet. Because I have poured my life into them, because they have been my world, this whole parenting experience with each new era will be bittersweet. It will be sweet because I will be thrilled for them, and bitter because I will miss the days past. I will miss being pregnant. But, I will never regret that I wrapped my heart around these little guys even in the womb. I will never regret that I have embraced each stage no matter how hard, no matter how precious. I have loved it all (at least, all that I have experienced up until this point!).

And, so today I am embracing the day, embracing my darling, precious, tree frog legged newborn, embracing my plump, strong, 16 month old, embracing my opinionated, silly 3 year year old, embracing my sensitive, leader of a 5 year old, and embracing my tall, handsome, hardworking husband.

And, here he is again, my sweet littlest one. . .

Parenting is Not for the Weak, or is it?

You have to be a tough cookie to be a parent. And, I for one am not a tough cookie.

I am not strong.

I am not hard.

I am soft.

I am weak.

A weak vessel.

I always have been, and I always will be. My husband says that I am stronger than I think I am, but I'm not so sure. It doesn't take much to break this little girl. . .

especially when she is 39 weeks pregnant and just sent her precious oldest son off to kindergarten.

And, so when the speech therapist called to talk to me about a few things she had noticed about Joshua's speech, I fell apart. Evidently there are 3 letters that he doesn't say just right, and she feels that he would benefit from some therapy.

What? Excuse me, did I hear her right? Did she say that my Joshua isn't perfect?

News-flash for Mommy.

Because, in my eyes those cute little l's that he says like w's are perfect. Perfectly cute, and I love the way he talks, and I never really noticed them before she pointed them out to me. And, how come some stranger noticed something about my son that I didn't notice?

And, I miss him. And, I am overwhelmed as it is. I thought that I was doing good just sending him off to school - this alone has been hard enough. Now, they are telling me that he needs speech therapy. And, I am pregnant and everything seems like a much bigger deal than it really is right now.

So, I went to her office and met with her Tuesday morning after I dropped my little boy off. For the first time Tuesday morning, he told me he didn't want to go to school. And, after I dropped him off, I drove around for a minute to collect myself because I know how weak I am - especially when my little boy is sad. And, I felt fragile, ready to fall apart at any second. But, I pulled myself together as best I could, and I entered the school to meet with the speech therapist. I think I was in her office 5 minutes before I fell apart. So, I sat there across the desk from this sweet lady with a box of kleenex in front of me crying as she described this process to me. She kept apologizing and saying, "I'm sorry. I am upsetting you, aren't I?" I kept assuring her that my tears had little to do with Joshua's speech problems and more to do with the fact that Joshua had been sad to leave this morning and that I have a gang of unruly hormones reigning my emotions. Weak. So, very weak. It was quite possibly one of my most embarrassing moments - except it lasted like 30 minutes. Classic Erin.

I planned on stopping by the Principal's office to discuss my desire to begin a Mom's in Touch Group for our Elementary school after I left the speech therapist's office. But, needless to say, I didn't have the strength, confidence, or emotional stability to do anything but run to my car with my head down and sunglasses firmly in place. As I drove off, I called Erik to tell him my sad little story.

In the time it took me to tell him about the meeting, Joshua's sweet teacher called my cell phone, Erik's cell phone, and our home phone. Not reaching us at any of the three numbers, she called my cell again and caught me as I was pulling the van into our driveway. The therapist told her about my little falling apart episode in her office, and she was calling to check on me, to assure me that Joshua was fine, and that he would in no way be singled out from the rest of the class for therapy. A day doesn't go by that I don't thank God for her. No doubt God hand-picked her for my little man. . . and for me, too.

After I got home, Deana B. called to see if I wanted to meet her at the Mexican restaurant for lunch. Ummm. Yes. (Since both her mother and my mother are in town awaiting the birth of Erik Daniel, we have automatic babysitters!) As I entered the Mexican restaurant, I prayed, "Please God, I am so tired of crying. Help me get through lunch without crying again." I sat down, and I could tell that Deana could tell that I had been crying. But, being the friend that she is, she never inquired about it. She just told me about her morning and gave me time to gather my emotions, my thoughts, and my heart before I shared it with her.

Deana B. is, in my opinion, strong. And, just being around her makes my little weak heart feel strong. Somehow she just exudes strength, and I left lunch feeling once again like I could, in fact, handle sending my son off to kindergarten. I could, in fact, handle the fact that he needs speech therapy. I could, in fact, handle the surging emotions and hormones that at times feel outside my control.

Between Deana B. and my mom, I was feeling back on track - sort of, anyway. Later that afternoon, I held my head high, shoulders straight, sunglasses on top of my head, eyes clear, and I entered Joshua's school. First, I asked to speak to the principal. She was excited about my desire to begin a Mom's in Touch Group, saying that they could always use prayer! Then, I asked to speak to the speech therapist again. I looked her straight in the eyes, apologized for falling apart earlier that day, told her I was 100% on board, and asked her to let me know what I could be doing at home to help my little man.

And, as I drove home with my little darling one chattering on in the back of the van, I thought about how difficult it is to be a parent. How difficult it is to love someone so much. How dangerous and unsafe it is to feel so much. And, here I am about to bring another little one into this world. Another little one that I will love beyond my wildest imagination, another little one that will break my heart over and over again each time I see his little heart break.

No, parenting is not for the weak. Earlier that day I doubted the fact that I should ever have become a mother. I am too weak. I can't handle it. But, I was reminded as my sweet Joshua chattered on and on in the backseat about Batman and Wobin, that God didn't expect me to be strong. He doesn't have expectations that my weak little self can't meet. He doesn't mind my weakness. He simply wants to be my strength. And, I need Him, breath by breath, tear by tear, I need Him.

No, parenting is not for the weak. It takes great strength to be a parent. And, I'm not talking about the kind of strength that one can muster up on his or her own. Parenting calls for supernatural strength. The kind of strength that is only available in a daily, walking, committed relationship with the one and only Strength-Giver. I thank God for the verse that says when I am weak, then I am strong because it speaks volumes to this weak vessel. I don't claim to have strength, but I do claim to belong to the Strength-Giver, to find my refuge in Him, my safe strong hiding place.

So, maybe, then parenting is for the weak.

At least, maybe it is for the weak made strong.

My Letter to my Joshua on His First Day of Kindergarten. . .

Joshua,

The day before you started kindergarten we were discussing Erik Daniel's arrival. You were asking questions about how he would come out of me and when he would come out to be with us. Then, you asked to watch the video of your own birth. You love to watch yourself "be born." So, I pulled it out, and we watched as Daddy pulled you out from under a sea of green paper cloths covering me. I watched your face light up as you heard yourself cry, and as Dr.Y announced that you were tinkling on him! And, then I saw it, baby boy, I saw the first moment that I layed eyes on you, my precious priceless first born son. . . I saw the tears in your Daddy's eyes, and I was taken back in time. . .

Then, JCT piped up, "I want to see me be born, too!!" And, as I searched for his birth video, I put in at least 5 unmarked videos of you between the ages of 0 and 2 years. I had forgotten how adorabley cute you were - saying your A, B, C's, singing Jesus Loves Me, and opening Christmas presents. Oh, me. . .

Later that night I told Daddy all about the videos that we watched. He said, "Why do you do that to yourself knowing that he is going to go to kindergarten tomorrow?" Until he said it, I had not even put the two together.

But, sure enough, as we drove you to school the next morning, all the images of those home videos came back to me. I saw your sweet little baby smile, your toothless grin, and I heard your sweet baby voice saying "ma-ma" and singing my God is So Big.

But, I'll be honest on the way to school I felt strong. I felt good. I was ready. And, so were you, my big man. You were excited! We got to school and took a few pics of you and Daddy. . .

and of you and me. . .

Then, I walked you into your classroom.

Your teacher greeted us and told us where to hang your bag and lunch box. So, we did that, and then she motioned you over to some little boys doing puzzles on the floor. I hugged you and then you left my arms to join them. I was doing great if I do say so myself.

But, then, your sweet teacher reached her arm around me and gave me a hug, and in a soft voice she said, "It is going to be okay. . ." And, as she said it, she slipped a little handmade bookmark into one of my hands. I didn't even look at it. I knew at that moment that I was a ticking time bomb, and I. had. to. get. out. of. there. asap! I quickly walked out of the door and smiled at one of the sweet administrators that we know and the principal who were standing at the main enterance. And, as soon as I got past them, I could hold it in no longer. I cried. All the way to the car, all the way to the house, and after I got home, I cried for you.

As I hugged your Daddy good bye yesterday morning, our hug, in the middle of the parking lot, was the hug of a couple embarking on a new adventure, a new era. In my mind it was likened to that of the hugs we hug when we find out that we are pregnant or that we hug after one of our sweet sons are born. It is the hug that says, I feel this just as much as you do. No one else on earth may know how you feel, but I do. We are doing this thing together. It was a precious memory for me. I looked up at him with big teary eyes, and he looked down at me with sweet understanding. I pray that you will grow up to be a husband and father like yours.

After I got home and settled in, the crying stopped for a minute. But, then I went to get something out the fridge, and I saw your sippy cup sitting there, and I started crying again. I sat down and took a few minutes to read the poem on the bookmark your teacher handed me. This is what it said. . .

The First Day

I gave you a little wink and smile as you entered my room today.

For I know how hard it is to leave and know your child must stay.

You've been with him for five years now and have been a loving guide.

But, now, alas, the time has come to leave him by my side.

Just know that as you drive away and tears down your cheeks may flow

I'll love him as I would my own and help him learn and grow.

For as a parent, I too know how quickly the years do pass.

And, one day soon it will be my turn to take my twins to class.

So, please put your mind at ease and cry those tears no more.

For I will love him and take him in when you leave him at my door.

Needless to say, my baby, the tears flowed freely after reading this sweet poem. I thank God for giving you such a precious teacher! I am praying for her daily! Mommy has such sweet friends. I think I received 15 text messages and calls the first hour after I dropped you off alone! And, Deana B. and Afton brought Mommy and Daddy a sweet happy and a sonic drink! You know how Mommy loves that Sonic ice - especially when I am pregnant!

JCT and I spent the morning making first day of school cupcakes for you!

And, I prayed for you all day trying to imagine what you were doing at that very moment. Were you eating lunch? Had you discovered the special gummy treats that I stuck in your lunch box? As I drove to pick you up, I became nervous. What if you had a bad day? What would I say and do? What if you started to cry? I waited in the pick up line until it was my turn to pick up my little man! You walked out to me and gave me a big hug! Then, you got in the van and buckled yourself in. As we drove off I asked, "How was your day?" You said, "Fine." That didn't tell me enough. . . So, I asked, "Did you like it?" And, you said. . .

"I loved it."

And, my heart melted. I felt warm tears, happy tears, burn in my eyes, tears of relief. I love you, and I so want you to be happy. I know we will have hard days and bad days. But, I am thankful that your first day was a good day.

Then, we took cupcakes to several of your friends, got sonic drinks, and went to see your sweet Daddy at work! It was a fun afternoon!

For dinner I told you that I would make you whatever you wanted. So, I asked, "What is your very favorite thing that mommy makes?" Your answer. . .

"Macaroni and cheese." You are a simple man, easy to please.

And, so I made you mac n' cheese and served it to you with chicken on our family's red special plate!

It seemed you grew a few inches in those hours we were apart yesterday. You seemed so grown up, so mature. But, sometime late in the evening before bedtime, you curled up in my lap and in your best baby imitation voice you said, "Joshy missed Mommy today. Joshy loves Mommy so much!" And, I kissed your sweet forehead and your sweet cheeks and your sweet lips and your sweet temples, and I assured you that I, also, missed you!

I am so proud of you, my little man, and I love you more than you could ever know. . .