– Thankful, grateful and blessed.
By Firelight
The other night we decided to have our Family Devotion by firelight. We had recently had our chimney inspected (thanks Gene) and been cleared to have fires in our house. In any other context, having as fire in one’s house would be frowned upon, but we assured our concerned Rachael that it’s okay to have a “bonfire” in our home. (Funny how she wasn’t so trusting of our judgement at first since all of her experiences with fires have been outside).
So post-bath, we enjoyed a nice cup of hot chocolate each and settled in around the fireplace for with our family Bible.
It was fun to celebrate our first fire of the season with the awe of our small and antsy-pants kids. =)
– Here’s to many more fireside experiences this season.
Not So WordLESS Wednesday…
This Wednesday I wanted to share a picture, but this one requires a few more words. So it’s a “Not so Wordless Wednesday” over in these parts, but next week I’ll return to the more wordLESS side.
This is copied from an email. I had debated whether or not to share this, but I decided to share this because I think God will reap the glory.
“Matt was cleaning out the bathroom today when he emerged with it on the way to the trash. “Suppose we can throw out your old pregnancy test?” He chuckled. I had forgotten I had held onto it from when we first learned we would be welcoming our third child to the household. “I guess that one came to fruition, huh?” I laughed back as he tossed it in the trash and returned to his cleaning. I remember choosing not to throw it away so quickly. Something about having miscarried Alivia before made me want to cling to the hope of getting to see the next baby’s ultrasound. It almost solidified more in my mind that even if we lost this baby, she was real. Alivia felt like such a haze of misfortune and I just wanted to hold onto something real. I could not protect the baby, no more than I could protect Alivia.
I remember coming home with the first set of sonogram pictures. Our little peanut-baby. And wondering if we’d ever get to a second set of pictures this time. I trusted God. He gives and takes away and makes the best of every situation – even the hurts. I put the pregnancy test back in the bathroom cabinet. It still showed positive.
The second set of pictures came at 12 weeks and it was like a breath of fresh air. But there also lay the reality and the sting of past loss. I chose to hold onto the pregnancy test. It still showed positive.
I could have thrown it away when I first felt Hannah move. She was clearly proof in herself that thus far God had chosen for us to keep the child. But I left it put just for a little while longer. It still showed positive.
And when we came home from the hospital holding our precious Hannah in our arms, the test got pushed to the back of the cabinet some sleepy morning in search of the toothpaste. It got lost somewhere in the new challenge of raising three little ones, on a handful of hours of sleep. It still showed positive.
—
I fished the test out of the trash. [Don’t freak out, it was on the top. (hehe)] I just wanted to take a picture. So I grabbed the sonogram pictures from the fridge door and brought them over to the swing. I laid them on her sleeping little body, beside the “gangrene test”, Matthew and I had joked about. I took a picture.
Sure you can count me weird.
But I just wanted to remember how it felt…
to be standing in front of an answered prayer. ”
– Thanks be to God.
That Beautiful Adventure in Her Eyes
I remember babysitting a lot while in high school. My church had a lot of young families, providing a lot of babysitting opportunities. I remember the fun times, endless candyland games, and various obstacle courses designed in the hours of entertainment. I also remember the first time I met families, that opportunity to smooth over the introductions and read a child quickly to figure out what kind of challenges presented themselves once the parents waved goodbye.
I had nearly completed the fall transfer of clothing. The girls were growing again (funny how that always happens) and the last of the cooler weather clothes needed to make their way into the closets from the boxes. We have been blessed with hand-me-downs from a few generous families and thrift-store loving little ladies from our church. My girls are thrilled with anything new to them.
Maybe it was the way I did her hair yesterday, in her two Laura Ingalls Wilder braids. Or maybe it was the last of the “toddler” style clothing exiting her wardrobe. Or maybe it was her laying on the floor this morning repeating a book for memory, “reading” to her sister. Or maybe it’s in the way she always seems to find an imaginary wayward chick to nurture back to health. Or maybe it was seeing my baby Rachael in Hannah’s eyes.
But suddenly I realized that she is a little girl. The toddler has long gone, never to return. She is one of those little girls I used to love to babysit. That little girl I spent a summer nannying, studying and investing in. She’s like one of those babysitting kids I couldn’t wait to get to watch, only I get to keep her for a little while longer.
She’s on the edge of schooling. Growing. Changing. Independently blooming. And her little browns remind me of the ones I see in old photographs of a small, auburn haired adventurer who used to care for imaginary forest creatures whom had lost their way and needed a mother.
I always thought she looked a little like me. When Abi came along it sealed the deal. Abi is her Daddy. Rachael is a little variation of me. But it’s so odd and amazing and tear-provoking all in one to watch her grow into my most distant childhood memories.
She is brilliant and curious and wild and gentle all in one. She is independent and just wanting to be held all at the same time.
And while three little ones encourages my day to be filled with wiping noses, picking up stray toys, dishes (if I can get to them), and laundry and more laundry, there is something about that smile of her’s. That smirk of delight mixed with a little wild excitement. That smile of contentment and joy in discovering something new. That light in her eyes… she’s just so alive. And I want nothing more than to drink it all in, living in the imaginary world of rescued chicks, fairy cottages, and ballerina concerts.
I adore her. She is such an utter delight.
My Rachael.
– thankful and blessed.
Still on the Playlist
I had a conversation with a dear friend, …oh it must have been a few weeks ago by now. The girls were all sleeping, my friend’s kids were knocked out as well, and we enjoyed the quiet households giving us the opportunity to share in each others’ lives.
I don’t even remember quite how we got onto the subject, but we blasted back to the very beginning of our marriages. I enjoyed learning about my dear friend’s transition from her Mother’s house to making a home of her own with her husband. And it was fun to take a walk down memory lane with her back to the old one-bedroom apartment that Matt and I stepped foot in after saying our ‘I do’s.
Well after the phone conversation ended, the memories swirled.
That broken bathtub drain clogged with a washcloth so I could do the mounds of dishes piled up, evidence of no dishwasher and a cutting-board sized counter space. Two full, full-time workers and then school and then internship. The late night hours waiting for Matt to return resulting in me falling asleep on the couch.
When we got married it was not in ignorance. We had seen divorces have their affects on families and kids. We were blessed to have also seen marriages, our parents, held together by Christ and prayer. We knew the statistical odds. We knew it’d be work. And we knew it’d be worth it.
But never in my wildest dreams could I ever have imagined it’d be this good.
Here 5 years later, rocking my youngest of three daughters, the praise of our Lord pours from my heart. Thanks be to the God of firm foundations. Thanks be to the God of uniting hearts. Thanks be to the God of hope and forgiveness. Thanks be to the God who has built our marriage on Him and Him alone.
I remember my roommate and best friend at the time putting together our wedding slideshow. She gathered together the old baby pictures of Matt and I, infusing two separate stories and sharing the years of memories captured in the hearts of our friends and families in attendance. She asked me to pick the background music. A few songs came to my mind that she easily found on my music playlist. Then by some near mistake, she came across the song. The song that captured the very heart of the commitment we were offering each other. “We Build” by Nicole Nordeman.
I wanted to share this song with you, but could only find it in terms of a past flood video so please enjoy the words and ignore the pictures for the purpose of this blog. 😉
“It’s bigger than we thought
It’s taller than it ought to be
This pile of rubble and ruins
It’s taller than it ought to be
This pile of rubble and ruins
The neighbors must talk
It’s the worst yard on the block
Just branches and boards where walls stood
It’s the worst yard on the block
Just branches and boards where walls stood
Did it seem to you
Like the storm just knew
We weren’t quite finished with the roof
When it started?
Like the storm just knew
We weren’t quite finished with the roof
When it started?
So we build
We build
We clear away what was and make room for what will be
If you hold the nails, I’ll take the hammer
I’ll hold it still, if you’ll climb the ladder
If you will, then I will, build
We build
We clear away what was and make room for what will be
If you hold the nails, I’ll take the hammer
I’ll hold it still, if you’ll climb the ladder
If you will, then I will, build
On any given day
We could simply walk away
And let someone else hold the pieces
We could simply walk away
And let someone else hold the pieces
The lie that we tell
Says it’s better somewhere else
As if love flies south when it freezes
Says it’s better somewhere else
As if love flies south when it freezes
What I’m trying to say
In some clumsy way
Is that it’s you and only you for always
In some clumsy way
Is that it’s you and only you for always
So we build
We build
We clear away what was and make room for what will be
If you hold the nails, I’ll take the hammer
I’ll hold it still, if you’ll climb the ladder
If you will, then I will, build
We build
We clear away what was and make room for what will be
If you hold the nails, I’ll take the hammer
I’ll hold it still, if you’ll climb the ladder
If you will, then I will, build
What I’m trying to say
In some clumsy way
Is that its you and only you, not just for now, not just today
But its you and only you for always
In some clumsy way
Is that its you and only you, not just for now, not just today
But its you and only you for always
So If you hold the nails, I’ll take the hammer
I’ll hold it still, if you’ll climb the ladder
If you will, then I will, build“
I’ll hold it still, if you’ll climb the ladder
If you will, then I will, build“
“We Build” speaks of emerging from the tragic moments, the tougher trials and challenges and choosing to build. Matt and I don’t have a pessimistic view of our marriage, but we do know there will always be trials and challenges and circumstances outside of our ability to rise from.
But instead of accepting the lie that “it’s better somewhere else” we must choose to build… together.
It’s that security of choosing the mindset that “it’s you and only you, for always”. When you start there the choice is to build now or have a harder time building later. But not building is not a choice.
Matthew, I love building beside you and with you. I am blessed beyond measure at the graciousness you extend to me through Christ. Thank you for teaching me with a humble heart how to build. Thank you, Lord, for breathing your truth into our marriage. Please, Lord, help us and hold us together because it’s so easy to be “prone to wander” when we look to ourselves to keep this marriage healthy.
I wish I could convey to you the reassurance I see in his eyes. It’s something that just can’t be put into words unless you have felt that kind of commitment. So many walk into relationships with a “hope this works out” mentality. And I must tell you that not one day of our marriage have I ever, nor will I ever, fear Matthew leaving me for “something else” or “someone else.”
So many times this confidence has been laughed at as naivety or immaturity. But I find it quite the opposite. I know that Matt’s soul is the Lord’s. His commitment to me is through his level of commitment to Jesus. For it is through Christ that he is even able to offer me a lifelong commitment. And just as it is a daily denying of self for the cause of Christ, Matt has chosen to daily work on our marriage. (And I likewise).
Sometimes daily working on our marriage looks like ignoring my flaws. Sometimes it looks like grace. Sometimes it looks like holding me accountable… even when I don’t want to hear it. Sometimes it looks like sitting next to me, holding my hand and not asking me to talk. But it always looks like, no matter what the day has held for us, it always looks like snuggling each other before we fall asleep.
See, no matter how flawed and frustrated and annoyed and selfish we have been, we have chosen our “for always” here on earth to be together. It’s not a commitment that can be changed by circumstance. It was decided once … until death. And it’s that commitment that keeps us coming back to apologize. We can joke, because otherwise the next 90 years are going to be mighty quiet and frustrating if we don’t apologize now. 😉
It’s hard for me to put into words. It’s hard for me to convey my appreciation, adoration and confidence in my husband’s heart. He chose our marriage in his mind. And he is one stubborn man. 😉
And I’m so blessed… so very blessed to build with him… no matter what.
– we build.
Wordless Wednesday: I Wish!
Wouldn’t it be nice if we all slept this solidly?
Sincerely,
one jealous Mommy.
😉