Family Ties

I'm sitting on the deck feeling a cool breeze, listening to Vivian cooing in her swing and Daniel sitting in the time out chair...
"ahh done na Mama? All doonnnee!!!"

Summer is upon us and I am finding myself struggling to come back to life with the rest of nature.

There has been plenty of drama recently, and for this past month I've not been writing I've mostly been stuck in the past.

I can't sleep and don't want to write... but I know that if I do it will help. Then maybe I can get back to my usual writing.

Its hard to write this way about something so personal, how to get it out without saying to much?

I will forgive you if you stop reading quickly... 

this may not make much sense to anyone but me and my family.

My grandmother passed away and so many painful, ugly memories from my childhood have been dragged to the surface just by having to attend her funeral. I swear I have been dreading that event since I was in high school,
I knew that it was the one last thing that would force us awkwardly back together again.

If it weren't for my father I would like to think I would have had the guts to just bail on the whole thing. But I'm glad I went... I think.

I feel like I learned something valuable.
There are two side to every coin.

This woman laying the casket was little more than a stranger to me even though we shared a roof for half of my life. I didn't feel she loved me in a deep or real way, I always felt in someways like she was indifferent to me for one reason or another... I can think of a lot of reasons but this isn't the place for that.

But seeing how some of my cousins reacted to having to say goodbye made me realize that there must have been a genuine love between them.... why did they get that and I didn't?

Was it her fault? Her children's fault? My own fault?

Most likely it was and unknowable combination of all three.

It was like it all happened yesterday, like I'm a teenager again losing most of my family to an ugly and impossible situation... one where no one can win or find any value in "being right" because in the end the damage is so severe it could take your breathe away.

It moved me to tears realizing that it was too late now to ever know what might have been if I had laid it all bare and asked her what went wrong and whether or not it could ever be made right.

Whether I could someday stand next to her and read as her grandson did about his genuine sorrow over losing her, his beloved Grandmother.

Truth be told it has been to late for a long time, she hadn't known much of reality for years.

But death is such an incredibly final nail in the coffin of the dramatics and fighting in that family that it is hard to stomach.

It seems to me that an all out battle is so much easier on everyone than the cold long silences and  passive aggressive behavior that has been going on for years.

I wanted so much in that church to play the old silent home movies I had seen of these five siblings from nearly forty years ago and ask them all...
what had happened to this family flickering on the screen?

Because I feel like I've never met them.

It seemed that they were friends, and they cared for each other.

They were smiling and laughing.

They were standing at the beginning of they're lives.

Before husbands, wives, children, illness, jealousy, bitterness, lies, money and death would drive them apart.

There in those old movies was a family I would have liked to have been apart of.

Here in reality is the painful results of people just being people, paying little attention to God's advice to love one another as we love ourselves.

I didn't set out to write this, but I am glad I did because in the end everything I write here is for my kids.

So her you go guys.... what you can learn from this...

love each other and put each other first.

Do all you can do to build and keep strong your relationships.

Even in little ways. Yesterday Tommy, Bella was sick and you went and got her a blanket because you were worried about her.
It was a very small thing that meant a great deal...  keep doing those small things.

Weigh your words and actions in light of the long run, not just how you feel right now.

 Action is much different than reaction. One is thought through and the other is just acting on emotion.

Your emotions shouldn't dictate your behavior.
Always ask yourself how you would want to be treated and then act that way towards your siblings.

 Don't feel entitled and try to see everything you get in life as a blessing.

Don't try to figure out who has gotten more from us. Don't keep records of favors.

And even with all this advice about being kind... don't be a martyr or a doormat.
Speak up for yourself before you become bitter about something. 

Before you've stewed about it for days or years, 

before you have let time and hurt warp your perspective.

 I could think of a lot more to say but I'll stop here. I am not trying to preach to you, I am writing this as much to myself.... probably more.

 I write out of fear and you will know why when you have your own children...
because I see you now all together laughing and running through the grass of our backyard, racing to your swing set, dropping helicopters off of your tree house, blowing on dandelions and making wishes.... and while you wish for ponies, ice cream, and new nerf guns...

I wish so very much that you could just stay this close always, to each other and to me and Daddy.

 Right now you are little and it seems easy since you always follow our lead.
But I wish, or rather pray,  that we could be this family always, trying to love each other as we love ourselves, as Jesus showed us, sacrificially.
Sometimes you will need to sacrifice your pride, your time, your right to free speech, your wants,
to keep the peace in this family... to demonstrate love...and that is as it should be.
That is how we learn to love in just a small way as God loves us.
I think living in that kind of love together we could get a glimpse of Heaven on this imperfect earth.

Refiners Fire

Why am I writing this?
Because there is more healing every time I talk about it...
Because It has been eating away at me like it needs to get out...

Because God is good no matter what,
He has a purpose and I need to remember that now...
and this is how I learned that...

How do I begin?
Daniel is ten months old now...

He still seems so little to me, partly because he still loves to cuddle, partly because he is bald, and partly because his brother and sister make him look little...

So I'm not yet itching to have another baby....

I realize this is normal for normal people, 

I think most people don't want another baby until the previous child is two or older...

and that is assuming they want another child at all, let alone three, or in our case four.

I wanted another baby very quickly after we had Isabella.  

Not immediately.
In fact right after I had her I was in such pain and shock that I was actually worried that Tom would be mad at me because I changed my mind...I didn't want anymore children...

For the first few days after her birth that was really how I felt.... 

I felt that way all over my aching, unrecognizable, leaking body.... 

was that last verb too much info???

I don't care...

No one had warned me...well... they may have tried but it didn't sink in.

I wasn't prepared.

and now you know how I felt... blindsided!

But I digress.

So after I got some sleep (and fell quickly in love with my daughter) I realized I would probably never do anything more worthwhile in my life than have and raise this little girl, and amazingly I wanted to do it again.

(I don't say that lightly, whatever I could do.. write the next great novel, make great works of art, win the Nobel peace prize... its still nothing compared to this motherhood thing.)

We found out Tommy was coming the day after Isabella's first birthday.

Bella was 20 months old when Tommy was born.

And we were thrilled, over the moon, a boy and a girl.

Tommy's birth was easier,
I knew we would have more children eventually.

Life seemed perfect as it was though and I intended to savor it for a while.

And then we got the shock of our lives, I was pregnant again 12 weeks after we had Tommy.

The bottom fell out.

I was sure I would never be able to handle three children so close together.

Understandably I hadn't even learned how to handle two.

I would be giving birth again the same week Tommy turned one.

As silly as it seemed I was upset I would take the spotlight off him, I wanted all my kids to have the same things, most of all the same milestones. I wanted Tommy to be celebrated on his first birthday the same way Isabella had been. I already felt like I was failing them all.

It was getting hard to remain calm.

Then I wondered what people would think.

Somehow the number of children we have and how close together we have them has become a thing that is debated in a public setting. I'm certainly guilty of asking people how many kids they want.
It seems like an innocent question but sometimes its hard being on the other end of it.
There are probably as many answers as there are people...

We are leaving it up to God.

We want at least five.

We want to wait until we can add on to the house.

We want another one... but we've lost two since our last was born.

We've been trying but we can't have any children.

We are done.

We are done... maybe

See how complicated this can get?

Here is my honest answer...

I want a lot of kids... I don't know that we'll ever know that we are "done".
Right now we are taking them as they come, one at a time.

I feel like this answer does not really please anyone...
let me explain.
It seems there are a few points of view on this subject where the church is concerned,
do we leave it up to God or do we believe in birth control?
What kind of birth control?
Of course nothing that would end a babies life after conception... but what does that include?
Can the pill cause miscarriage?
Possibly even before you know your pregnant?
As far as I'm concerned the jury is still out on that.
I've heard both yes and no from many different people.

I don't judge anyone who uses it,
I might be worrying for nothing, but I'm just not comfortable with it.

But I know that many people think that is crazy
So when I was twenty four I tried to answer in a way that would seem uncomplicated
rather than attempt to tell the truth. 

Well.... being pregnant with a 3 month old and a 23 month old speaks louder than words.
And obviously even I didn't "plan" on having that many that fast.

But God laughs at our plans.. He has his own.

So I let my emotions carry me away. I didn't pray or lean on God, I cried.

I told my husband over and over that I couldn't do it.

I said things I will forever regret about not wanting another baby so soon.

I knew I would love this child too, but I didn't feel that yet. All I felt was fear.

Fear of judgment.

Fear of pain.

Fear of responsibility beyond what I was capable of handling .

I calmed down at some point but I never felt the way I did when I was pregnant with my other children.

I would randomly have a fit of tears and panic. My heart was not in the right place. I'm not saying fear and worry aren't normal emotions for me to have had... but I didn't turn them into prayers.

I let myself wallow in them and turn them into pity and depression.

On our 3rd anniversary we dropped the kids off at there Grandparents for the night and we headed out for a date. We were going to hear the heartbeat for the first time and then to dinner. 

I remember not being at all concerned that they couldn't find it,
we were only eight weeks in and that was normal.
I was just disappointed since it would have been a nice memory for our anniversary. 

Little did we know at that point we had already lost him.

When we found out at 13 weeks by sonogram that there was no heartbeat,
we also found out that he had stopped developing around eight weeks.

It was a Friday in June. My doctor told me to take the weekend and think about what we wanted to do.
 D & C or a "natural miscarriage".
I had no idea what all that really meant.
We cried and tried to calm down. It was easier to be calm in front of the kids

This picture was taken of them that weekend. Its funny how you can't forget things like that.
I went to bed that night and lost it, I cried forever.

I woke up the next morning early and in pain.
No choice. It was time.
I am not writing this to upset anyone but I never knew what people meant when they said they had a miscarriage. I thought maybe a bad period?
Maybe worse.. but early on I guess I though "how bad could it be?"

I didn't know what was about to happen, I just had awful cramps so I got in the shower.
What happened next was like a mini labor and delivery...
ten times more terrifying with none of the joy... in my bathroom.
I screamed for Tom. there was so much blood and it wasn't stopping.
Tom called 911 and then his little brother to come watch the kids.
He was just a few miles away and was there in minutes.

I was rushed to the hospital, and they stopped the bleeding,  and sent me home.
I went on with my day, even to a graduation party.
We didn't tell anyone but our parents and the older siblings because we didn't want to ruin the day for the younger kids.
It was hard to pretend, but in some ways it was easier too.

We got home that night, and got the kids to bed.
Moments after they were in bed the bleeding started to get bad again.
Even in this I feel that God is so good...
they were in bed when it happened that morning,
and now they were in bed again... they never saw anything, they were never scared.

I however thought I was going to die, I had never seen so much blood.

My mom flew to my house to be with my kids. I don't know how she got there so fast.
I thank God for her because at least if I knew nothing else I knew my kids were safe.

This time Tom rushed me to the hospital, we knew we could get there faster than an ambulance.
When I got to the waiting room the receptionist didn't understand what was happening...

I kept trying to explain that we had been there that morning, we had already lost the baby.

She told me to sit down and someone would call me back.
I pointed to my feet and said I probably shouldn't walk on the nice new carpet.
Blood was pooling and I was furious and dizzy.
She got it and called a nurse... and then we started all over again with the explanations...

The Doctor came... who could hardly understand me.
He was awful....  spoke English badly for a doctor.
He didn't understand and by my third attempt or so I was getting scared I would die trying to explain that this was not a normal miscarriage
this was something else.
Finally I said he needed to see how much I was bleeding
He started to protest, as though he was embarrassed.
I threw the sheet back anyway and showed him.
Every time my heart beat I could feel more blood pulsing out of me.

My mother in law came then, even though it was the middle of the night and she had just hosted a grad party for three or four hundred people.
She talked me through the pains.
She prayed with me.
She calmed Tom down.

She later said to me that she never understood why God had allowed her to experience the pain and fear of miscarriages before we met. But she had thought even then that maybe someday she would need to draw on that loss to help one of her daughters through the same thing.
Maybe there was some strange healing in this then?
God used these hardships to create a bond.


In two hours my blood pressure was dangerously low and I was taken upstairs for a D & C.
I didn't care if I never woke up I just wanted the pain and fear and sadness to stop.
I had to give Tom my wedding rings before going in,
that alone was enough to remind me why I needed to wake up.

When it was over it was still dark.
I sent Tom home to sleep and then I let it go.
All the fear and sadness.
I Begged God to forgive me for not really wanting this baby. I felt like I was being punished.

Even as I thought it.... it didn't ring true.

God is love.

I wasn't being punished and what I had said didn't cause this to happen.

But God did allow it when he could have stopped it.

Why?

Why does God allow suffering when he could spare us?


On this side of heaven we won't ever get that question answered completely.
I know that I am a better person for having gone through this loss.
And I think that is part of the reason.

I am more compassionate.
I understand something about loss now I didn't understand before.

I know what I have because I saw what I lost.
Even at only eight weeks this baby had fingers, toes, tiny little eyes.
No bigger than a kidney bean, but a baby just the same.
This "miscarriage" was our baby.

I don't take my children for granted as much as I might have,
my easy pregnancies with them are more of a blessing now and less an expectation.

My bond with Tom is stronger because we leaned on each other,
and my relationship with God is deeper now because, in desperation I finally turned to Him.

I was reading yesterday that when we suffer deeply a void is opened in us... we ache.
But we also realize our deep need for God,
He wants to come in and fill in the gaps that loss and tragedy have torn open within us.
He allows us to hurt so we will turn to Him for help.
God's "help" in my case didn't involve letting me have this child.
But in the end its forgiveness, and a place for me and all my children in heaven with Him...
if only we will choose Him... and ask for salvation.

The strange twist for me in this story is this...

 Daniel Elijah.
 And on the day before Thanksgiving God gave us the joy of hearing that strong heartbeat once more.
I have never been more thankful.

But I was struck by the fact that I couldn't have had them both.

The baby we lost would have been born just a couple weeks after we heard Daniel's heartbeat.

I loved them both, and it gave me comfort to know that God was in control of all things.
Because if God would have given me a choice... I couldn't have made it.
I didn't want to lose that baby...
but I also wanted Daniel.
And it was the fact that I couldn't have had them both that made me decide I didn't want control of my life,
It's a daily choice to give my life to God.
By praying, obeying, trying to bless others the way I've been blessed.
  I am not who I should be or who I want to be...
but its in the suffering that God will change us little by little helping us to be more like Jesus.


For You, O God, have tested us; You have refined us as silver is refined. ~Psalm 66:10

Brought to you by The Letter G and the Number 3!

I was having a bit of a rough time on Sunday.

I am overwhelmed by all the things we have going on lately, 

seems like every free moment gets taken up with something... even when it's not work,

parties, picnics, birthday's, weddings, showers.

 

 I love social things... I just love sitting at home watching my kids play while I'm talking to my husband too.

Also I can never find anything to wear when we have to go out.

So after nap and dinner on Sunday evening Tom sent me to the store alone.

The man knows me (Thank you God for such a husband) ... 

retail therapy is my thing, even if it was just for some milk and bread.

But he wisely told me to look through the clothes as well, get a new top or something.

I have a slight fear of shopping by myself as much as I enjoy it, I always go overboard.

He gives me a twenty and I use the debit card for ten more.

 You know.... there is always just one more thing that will complete me, 

and make everything right with the world.

A few months ago I bought a couple things to add to some other outfits.

In particular I found an awesome purple cardigan that was on clearance... 

I know it wasn't more than eight bucks.

I really wanted it in green more but that color was still full price at twenty and even I... 

the queen of wasting money... couldn't do it

Now every time I try to get dressed I think of that green cardigan and how it would be perfect with this or that or the next thing, and I regret not buying it.

Last night.... looking through a rack of three dollar stuff, nothing looks too promising.

not just on the rack but in the week ahead...

the weather stinks (no outdoor projects getting done), 

the other car needs fixed (I mean like ten things need fixed all at once),

the kids need to get to the dentist (and my goodness they Hate the dentist),

the dog needs to go to the vet,

the list goes on... and gets deeper and more personal than I can share.

and I get sucked down further into worry and self pity.

God don't you care!? 

I am so tired.... I miss my husband.

Ok... I know you care... but could I get a break please?

My break came right then.... 

One green sweater left, wedged in there where no one could see it.

The green sweater I had to pass up before, now three dollars.

Or twelve quarters...

Or less than a happy meal...

(with none of the irritation of the drive-thru!)

Or THREE DOLLARS

This may seem silly too you, 

It sure seems silly to me.

But for that moment I  knew that God cared and he had shown me in a way only He and I could understand.

I love it when Gods love for me is immediate and personal and silly.

And I love my green sweater too.

He is Risen.

Tonight we talked about Easter with the kids,

in the vain hope that somewhere in the blur tomorrow they will remember..

Its not about my pretty new dress,
or my white patent leather shoes.

Its not about the cool necktie... just like Dad's.

Its not about the chocolate rabbit the size of my forearm.... 
(that one was for me!)

Its not about the money in the Easter eggs we found.

Its not about the stuffed puppy or the sparkly pony Nana got me.

Its not about the delicious ham....  
(that one was for my husband.)

Its about Jesus.

"God's Son!", Isabella shouts.

We say yes... remember how God took Sheba to heaven?

"Evan?" Tommy asks.

"Yes... but I miss her..." Bella says sadly.

God made a way for us all to go there by giving us His Son.... Jesus.

He died for us... for all the bad things we ever did or ever will do.

He was punished instead of us... even though we were bad...
not Him.

And then to prove he was God's Son, 

and show us we would all live forever in Heaven, he rose again, 

He came back. 

"So we can go there too?" Bella asks.

Amazed.... she is always amazed when we tell her.

At first when we explained Heaven she was afraid... to her the thought of not coming "home" was scary.

She wanted familiar, known, comfortable.

I can relate... I think most of us can.

But once we explained more... always joy, never tired, or sick, or lonely.

"Are there toys?" she asked.

I said yes without thinking...God is a God of love, he is our Father, 

His Son loved Children and often exemplified there faith and devotion... of course there must be toys!! 

 That was all she needed to hear :)

Hopefully by the time she's headed home she won't care about toys anymore.

Hopefully, she will just want to stand face to face with her Lord and her Savior and say Thank you.

John 3:16 “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because he has not believed in the name of God's one and only Son.

1 John 3:16  This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers.

Sheba

So remember when I said the reason I had three small children and a puppy, was a sad story? The time has come to tell it... stop now if you don't feel like crying.

There is our Sheba.

When we got married (almost five years ago) I told Tom I needed a dog. I had moved strait from my parents house to our new house and I had never not had a dog. The house seemed quiet and empty. So about 2 days after we got back from our honeymoon I stopped by the humane society. He wanted a German Shepard. I wanted a puppy. And there she was... just waiting for us. I made Tom come see her right then.

I was in a little playroom with her and just as he was outside walking by the window to the main entrance she decided to make sure he knew what he was getting himself into and she pooped on the floor right in front of me.... He took a little more convincing after that but only a little. 

I remember feeling so bad for her the first few nights we had her home, she would cry at night, and I would try to reason with Tom to let her come sleep in our bed or at least our room. Eventually he let her sleep in our room but not until she was fully house broken. By the time we had two kids and had moved our bedroom to the second story, she no longer cared about us but preferred to sleep right in between the kids rooms on the first floor. She was so protective of them. 

always nearby.

 

Here she is watching someone in the neighbors driveway from just outside our play yard.

I know a lot of people who have dogs worry about how they will react when a baby is brought home... Sheba didn't enjoy the crying at first. For a few days she would come running every single time Bella would cry but other than that she did just fine.

Once when Isabella was a newborn Tom and I were doing yard work while she slept in her stroller. Someone came out of the neighbors house and Sheba went nuts. It was the first time the baby had been out in the yard and I guess Sheba felt it was her job to protect her. I never her saw her like that before, hair raised, growling, she immediately got between the baby and the neighbors house until the person was gone. That was when I knew we had the right dog. She was never what you would call brave, but if she thought those kids were in any danger she was a mother bear. 

I don't want to make her seem like the perfect dog. For her first year of life she had a majorly bad habit of chewing on trim. Tom was not at all happy about that. Once she actually dug a hole in the dry wall in our hallway. Again.... not a happy hubby. 

And the worst of them all... on the day after Christmas while I was pregnant with Bella, we were going to dinner with my husbands whole family. We had been at his parents house all day because he was hunting with his Dad. So Sheba was there with us. When it was time to go to dinner we decided to lock her in the bathroom so she wouldn't "go" in the house..... not smart. When we came back she had tried to dig her way out... through every wall....  there were seriously deep scratches three feet up the wall all around the small room. We all agreed that given another few hours and she might have made it out. I thank God everyday that the bathroom needed remodeled anyway, and every time I'm there I feel bad it hasn't happened yet!

So if you've done the math you could figure that Sheba should just be turning five this month. We had to have her put down in September, she was losing weight, not eating, going into kidney failure. We went to two vets and neither could explain it. We know she didn't get into anything chemically that could have caused it. The best they could guess is a rare bacterial infection that they can get from drinking standing water. I guess it doesn't much matter now anyway. 

Staying with her while they put her down was so incredibly hard. I felt so bad in that moment for all the times I brushed her off or yelled at her when I was really frustrated with something else. You always realize to late what you could have done better. It was harder still because she was with us from nearly the beginning. She was our "practice baby", our wedding gift to each other. It was not just the end of her life but the end of a chapter of ours.... one I thought still had a long way to go.

  

I know that she is in heaven. I keep telling Bella that when she says she misses her. When we first had to tell her I explained that she was really sick (which Bella could see) and that the only way for her to get well was to go to heaven where God could heal her. Somehow explaining it to my kids made it easier for me to understand as well. 

So what made me write this today in the first place? Two things...

First, we went outside to play today for the first time since we got Jack in the late fall. And I realized just how much I missed Sheba. Don't misunderstand. I love Jack too. But I couldn't trust him.... yet. He will get there I'm sure, but I didn't feel as safe today. I didn't know that he would be the first one to hear anything that was nearby. I took that for granted with her.

Second, Isabella looked out the door this morning and said " there goes Sheba... I miss her so much mama." I was confused for a few minutes until we worked it out that she was actually pointing to an airplane. I guess in her three year old mind, the only two things we talk about being "up in the sky" are airplanes and heaven. To her they had somehow become one and the same. She said "I miss her but she can't come back and play with us, right mama?" I said no but I'm sure she is happy now and just waiting for us to come and play with her someday... and I really do believe that.

 

Faith like a Child

The other night Tom was playing with the kids... he is the fun parent in this equation.

Handstands, wrestling matches, hide and seek.... he does it all.

I just do everything else.... anyway....    

They were running in circles around the kitchen when (for some reason) Isabella wants him to jump over her.

So he did, kind of  ' leap frog ' style....

She of course is tickled and says "Do it again!"

He says "I can't! I'm too old, my knees hurt!"

I say "You are getting really old, nearing thirty."  

He muttered something about a divorce...

... just kidding....

Then Isabella says "Don't worry Daddy, when you get old you get to go to heaven!"

Faith like a child....the students have become the teachers, or rather they have always been the teachers!

I've learned more from these kids in the last four years than I ever did in the previous twenty-two.

A few days later Isabella came to me crying about her knees hurting (she calls them her elbows... we are working on it).  I am assuming it was growing pains and I was about to ask if she wanted tylenol when she said "Will you pray for me?".

Wow.... that wouldn't have occurred to me on my own...

So that is child like faith? Going to our heavenly Father first, before we try all the other possible solutions.

How many times could I have saved myself grief, irritation, heartache, worry....if I had just gone to Him first?

In prayer, in His word, in just sitting still for few worship songs in the middle of a bad day.

They are watching us, 

mimicking us,

trying to learn from us everyday.

Little do they know we are learning just as much from them.

Tell it to your children,
and let your children tell it to their children,
and their children 

to the next generation. 

Joel 1:3

Love...

So once again it is February 14th, Valentines Day... a day all about love (and greeting cards, and fancy dinners, and chocolates...)

So what is Love?

Love. ( according to Websters Dictionary)

Function: noun

Middle English, from Old English lufu; akin to Old High German luba love, Old English lēof dear, Latin lubēre, libēre to please

Date: before 12th century

(1) : strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties (maternal love for a child)   

(2) : attraction based on sexual desire : affection and tenderness felt by lovers

(3) : affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests (love for his old schoolmates)

Not very inspiring huh? I like Gods definition much better.

Love (according to God):

  

1 Corinthians 13

. 1 If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am become sounding brass, or a clanging cymbal.2 And if I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.3 And if I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and if I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profiteth me nothing..

So anything you can do, give, or be is meaningless and purposeless if you do not have love in your heart.

 

Love is patient, love is kind

 

It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud

 

It is not rude, it is not self‑seeking

 

it is not easily angered

 

it keeps no record of wrongs

 

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

 

It always protects, always trusts

 

always hopes, always perseveres. 

 

 Love never Fails.

I can't love this way all the time, or even most of the time, but God can and does.

And we know and have believed the love which God hath in us. God is love; and he that abideth in love abideth in God, and God abideth in him.1 John 4:16

 Happy Valentine's Day!

Decorating with Memories

Decorating the Christmas Tree.... with a preschooler, a toddler, a baby, a puppy, and a very tired Daddy.

Tis the season to take some extra Tylenol, grab a Big cup of coffee, and plaster a smile on my face until bedtime.

Daniel, my darling five month old angel was sleeping nearly the whole time, he didn't even make it through putting on the lights before he was seeing visions of sugar plums... on this day he was, hands down, my favorite.

I won't lie like some mothers do... I have a favorite, it just changes day by day, sometimes hour by hour.

Tommy... Tommy two two!!!! He wanted to follow his Dad around the tree in circles as he put on the lights. He unfortunately is not as fast and is easily distracted so he mostly kept tripping Daddy up.

Then he wanted to pick up any and all debris on the floor and hand it to me piece by piece:

"UH OH mama.....ewwww.... UH OH mama ewwww ... UH OOOHHHH..."

and so on.... very very loudly. This was made worse by the fact that our vacuum clogged up about eight times... no joke. Poor Tom spent more time trying to fix that vacuum than he did decorating the tree. (I guess I should be grateful that someone was willing to do the job by hand if all else failed)

Then he wanted to put on the decorations with me, however he was confused. He would take the ornament stick his hand in the tree and just let go, never ever occured to him to try to hook it on a branch. So he became the "runner". I gave him the ornament, he gave it to Daddy.

If you have a repatative job you are dreading I suggest you find a two year old.

Last but not least Isabella, let me first say that from the start of the day, way back before we even got the tree, this child was simply discontent with everything we were doing.

We were eating breakfast, she wanted to go.

We were at the tree farm petting the dog, she wanted to get the tree.

We were hunting for the tree, she wanted to go back and see the dog.

When she said " I wanna go home, I'm cold." I nearly lost it.

Don't act like you haven't been there.

On this went until we were putting up lights, when she begged and asked and begged for us to turn them on please please please.....

When we were finally putting up the decorations I was trying to explain to her what they were,

Isabella's First Christmas

Mommy and Daddy's First married Christmas

Great Grandpa Brugere's VERY old hand decorated ornament....

That was when all the stress of the day fell away a little, and I was a bit humbled by my inability to see the big picture.

This is the only Christmas we get for sure.

Think about it, we are not necessarily going to be here next year or even next week.

Chances are we will.... but what if?

Would you spend more time at the mall? Look harder for the perfect gift?

Buy them more toys? No... you would spend time and make memories.

All the ornaments were really just reminders of all the memories. 

I remember the first year we were married we couldn't even afford to buy a First Christmas ornament for ourselves. So I wrote our names and the date on a cheap silver ball... and now it is my favorite. 

Isabella and Tommy's First ever ornaments, a pink quilt and a stork carrying a blue bundle, and this year we will add Daniels. 

My first Christmas ornament, I can picture my mom telling me about it every year.

My husbands Grandfather, his namesake, who I never got to meet. We have been given his ornament that he made when he was just eight years old. It has seen countless memories made from its perch at the very top of the tree.

   I'm going to try harder this year not to forget the reason for Christmas. Not to let it get lost in the shopping mall, the parties and commitments, or the tantrums we deal with day to day. 

Its all about God, coming here to show us his love, his heart for his creation. Putting his plan into motion that night in Bethlehem. A plan to one day bring His children home for good.

Isaiah 12:2  Surely God is my salvation;
                   I will trust and not be afraid.
                   The Lord, the Lord, is my strength and my song;
                   he has become my salvation.”