Over the weekend we took the kiddos to a farmer’s market downtown. The sights, the smells, the fresh. It was precious to see their eyes light up. “Ooooh, look at that?” We drunk it all in slowly walking down the crowded center aisle. The light breeze and cool of the shade provided a respite from the heat of the early afternoon.

We were in no rush. There was nothing but time to spend. Just enjoying it all. There were no expectations. No begging for sweets. Just delight.

“This is similar to what it will be like in Africa, loves.” My voice broke into their amazement.

“We’ll probably buy our food from markets in Africa.” Matt encouraged.

“I like it! This place is so neat!” Came a delighted six-year-old.

The other girls still all Ooo’s and Awww’s.

Call me sappy, but a little knot caught in my throat as God reminded me that He is preparing us. One day at a time. One new culture at a time.

Thank you, Lord.

This past weekend we receive the news that we are approved to go to Africa. Now we’re on to the job matching phase.  So we can now talk about Africa with certainty. It is coming.

Praise the Lord, Africa is coming.

It was a night I will never forget. March 27, 2015. But it really began months earlier. Family devotions seemed to perk more questions than her little body could verbalize fast enough. She had to know why. She had to know it all. Right. Then. Every night. She just had to know.

I remember weeks earlier calling it a quits in the middle of a homeschool lesson. She was troubled. Her brow furrowed. She unleashed an hour and a half of question after question. Old Testament. New Testament. She needed answers. Pictures. Explanation.

I came to my women’s Bible Study group begging, “Ladies, this child is grilling me!” Not rebellion. Not frustration. She just couldn’t get enough. She needed to know.

And then it went quiet. And I wondered if that at was it. And she had forgotten.

A few weeks later it began again. More. She needed more.

She started talking more about sin. And it’s results. The bible verses starting to become more than words we repeated. Could it be true for her?

We let her wonder. And wrestle. It’s her walk. It’s her journey. It’s her choice.

Then came the night. We gave our usual hugs and kisses. Three little ladies tucked in to bed tight. But something was wrong. She couldn’t go to bed.

I came into the room and instantly knew she had more questions. He lay at her side in the quiet dark as she led the conversation. Her eyes were searching. Her face was torn. Her heart was wrestling. Could it all be true for her?

I climbed in beside her. And the questions began to be different. She began answering her own questions. He guided her gently through His Everlasting Words. Familiar verses broke light on her face. And yet she just kept repeating, “but my sin, all my sin.” And it was in that moment that we realized He was speaking to her heart. Her guilt lay open, bear on her mind. She could not avoid it. And her only question, “How are you sure that you’re saved?”

Acts 16:31 “Believe in the Lord, Jesus Christ, and you will be saved.” That’s it, Rachael. You just believe. There’s no fanfare. No audible voice. You just believe and then God does the rest.

Light hit her face. “I want to pray” she said with clarity.

She said a simple prayer. Acknowledging her belief in Jesus, agreement that her sins separate her from God, and her desire for Jesus to be her leader and guide as Lord of her life. Simple. True. Sincerity. And then that smile. That calm. That peace. That joy.

The next morning she couldn’t wait to tell her sisters. She even began encouraging Abi to trust in Jesus for herself. She shared the news over the phone and in person. It is HER story. Her new life..

And since then she has been hungry for the Word. Her questions haven’t ended. I mean, this is Rachael we’re talking about, dear ones. She is a THINKER! But there is this peace. This PEACE that has taken hold of her. She doesn’t fret about knowing anymore. She knows! And she is not afraid. Not afraid to take big steps because she knows Jesus is worth it. She knows it for herself.

She is His.

And He is hers.

And just like that through her beautifully sincere surrender she has become my sister. The most wonderful little sister I could ever have.

• Unspeakable Grace.

*** I received Rachael’s permission to share this in respect for it being her story and not my own. She agreed with a big smile. Love that little girl so!

(Eden)

Forever my baby.

(Hannah)

No matter how the time may fly.

(Abi)

They’ll always be my babies.

(Rachael)

Each and every one.

– Thank You, Lord, for the beautiful gift of them. I am so undeserving of such grace.

Nap time can be hard. Especially when you’re two years old. And you’re the only one out of the big kids that has to stop what you are doing and go to bed. 

She’s made some advances. Accepting her fate. And climbing in after hugs and kisses without complaining. 

But some days it’s hard. Being awake is just so fun! There’s giggling to be had and squealing too. And then she’s told the dreaded “five more minutes”. And then she finds herself stowed away in her bed. Demoted to the “little kids” bracket. It’s Hannah’s personal life goal to be a big kid. Napping just doesn’t fit.

Yesterday was one of those days. Tears hit. “I don’t want to nap” called over the baby monitor. I hadn’t made it to the room yet. One last pair of hands to wash up after lunch. 

And then the monitor went silent suddenly. And I came in to find this: 

  
A big sister’s compassion had emptied the contents of her own bed of special loves, surrounding Hannah with friends. You almost can’t find her in there, she’s so loved. 

My little Blondie has such a beautiful heart of love for her little sister. Such a sacrificial giver.

It’s so sweet how they care for each other so.

– Thankful, grateful and beyond blessed. 

She toddled around today for nearly an hour holding this little green cup. 

  
It had come from the bathtub where she first took a fancy to it. It fit just right in her hand. Mr. Green cup made jailbreak from the tub and even survived a vigorous drying from the dreaded pink towel of doom (just ask Eden how awful that fun-stopping towel really is!). 

We could hear Mr. Green cup clicking on the kitchen floor as she crawled.

Tapping on the walls as she marched through each calculated step. This. Foot. Next. She used Mr. Green cup to regain balance. 

Then during her nap time nursing session, Mr. Green cup joined us… naturally.

Until at last he fell from her sleeping grasp as she sank deeper into my arms. 
I don’t know if Mr. Green cup will be forgotten after nap time. But I can tell you one thing: when her little post-nap eyes open, she will find Mr. Green cup there in her crib. Just waiting. 

Because to her, Mr. Green cup is important.

So that makes him important to me too.  

– Adore her so.  🙂

Yesterday my little ladies each had a blood draw to complete some medical testing protocol for the missions board. I prayed over them for a few days and we chose not to inform them of the process until utter last minute so as to alleviate as much anxiety as possible. We strategically divided our more dramatic loves and went Noah style, two by two, into the back exam room. First up was my cohort: Abi and Eden. I chose for the Shakespearen candidate to go first. 😉

When we got into the room I informed her of the test’s procedure. Her face immediately went sour but she wearily climbed onto the table. The doctor and her med assistant were FANTASTIC at explaining each part of the process in kid language and reassuring Abi along the way. A few tears were shed at the needle’s pinch but Abi easily collected herself thereafter, happily selecting an Elsa sticker and an orange Popsicle as she watched more of Disney’s Tangled. 

Next up, Eden smiled and waved until she began to be restrained. Then panic began to sink in a bit. I leaned over her and rubbed her cheek with the stick’s cry. And once the bandaid was applied that was it. All fear was gone. 

Matt took the last two victims after their vocalized Popsicle envy while Abi, Eden and I returned to our waiting room distractions. Ten minutes later Matt returned with two bounding children and a report that Hannah was nervous but leaned into Matt, flexed her self-control and never cried once. Rachael shed a few tears but moved on quickly. 

No drama. No phobias. And Abi even thanked the doctor on the way out.

That, my dear friends, was the hand of God at work.

We celebrated their bravery at Chickfila where everyone knows that dreams come true. 😉

– Thankful, grateful and beyond blessed!