It Is For Freedom...

There are no words to express what the last three months have been like in our family. Rather than share the details, I'll just say a quick and heartfelt thank you to those who were praying and supporting us through this very difficult, sad time in our life.

The Lord has used this time in tremendous ways to grow my husband and I individually and as a couple, drawing us ever nearer to Him. I wish I could say that I've taken every opportunity to build my faith or 'do the right thing', but that's just not reality. I am imperfect, totally.

But this time has been one of change and growth, as I said, and in a conversation with a close friend recently, the question was asked (I paraphrase here), "Why is it exactly that you haven't done anything with your life?" Said friend proceeded to say, "You're a treasure! You're freakin' brilliant and I want to know why you're wasting yourself doing laundry when you have something to say to the world!"

The answer S., is captivity. Which is what got me thinking. What am I captive to? What am I a slave to? From what do I need independence?

This brings me right back around to Proverbs 31, which I talked about last time, because while so many women interpret Proverbs 31 as a beautiful picture of what a woman can be, there are plenty of women, such as myself, who read it as an impossible list of qualities we can never hope to fully attain no matter how hard we try.

My captivity, in spite of my new understanding of this one scripture, stemmed from this same manner of thinking. I have been captive to my own expectations of what my life is supposed to look like, captive to a deep need to meet the expectations of others,

captive to an ideal, captive to a standard, captive to imagined perfection, captive to the approval of others.

And what I find now, is that I have backed myself into a prison cell of self-criticism and self-doubt, knowing that I can never become the impossible ideal I had created in my own mind.
I've spoken before about non-conformity, about my desire to 'take off the hats' of all the personas I was trying to portray, 'perfect wife', 'perfect mother', etc, but clearly this process is more long term than I previously thought and is a journey which must be made with the God who designed me in the first place, pre all my ridiculous interference in the process.

I have since asked myself the question, What if I were free? What if I no longer needed to prove myself to everyone around me? What if I could forgive people? And truly love people? And have a soft heart full of compassion and mercy and the ability to use my gifts without a debilitating fear of failure? What then?

Well then I would write. And I would love fully, expecting nothing. And I could dream impossible dreams without fear of them never coming true. I could cry when I was hurt and laugh when I was filled with joy and release all the painted and wild hopes that have been corralled within me for all these years, waiting and watching for liberty to dawn.
I have spent most of my adult life trying to become something I was never meant to be, trying to conform to an unspoken standard, trying desperately to make everyone proud by attempting to become a quiet-spirited, humble, sweet 'lady' or else meet some specific guideline of perfection for the group that I was in.

But beneath all of my clamoring for perfection and admiration, there was a frustratingly loud voice that would start singing at the most inappropriate times. It sang of courage and love, dignity and hope and honor. It sang in the night when, as a little girl, I listened to my parents fighting. It sang as I wept in the recovery room of an abortion clinic in '98. It sang and sang and sang as I said my wedding vows and held my children in my arms for the first time. And the song that it sang was freedom.

I've said before that my number one rule is Love God and Love Others. Can I be free to do that if I'm trapped in a debilitating cycle of trying to please the people around me, trying to avoid failure and in the process failing utterly? What else holds me captive? To what am I a slave? What keeps me from reaching for the dreams that He has placed in me? He came that I might have life, and life abundantly, so...why don't I?

Because I have never fully understood my value. Not the value in who I would someday be when He was done changing me, the value in my potential; but the value in the person that I am right this minute with no make up on and yesterday's mousse still in my hair. I have been so easily able to see it in everyone but myself and this must be the day when that begins to change because all those wild and painted hopes crave freedom, and so do I.

I can, even now, hear that voice rising up, singing it's song of freedom- and the voice that sings is His.

"The Lord, your God, is with you, He is mighty to save, He takes great delight in you, He will quiet you with his Love, He will rejoice over you with singing... ." Zeph 3:17

Proverbs 31

I found it very interesting that there would be such vibrant viewpoints regarding this scripture on one of my previous posts and so I'm hoping to dig a little deeper and add some fact to what, to me, has always been perception only.

I have to be honest and say first, I've always hated this scripture. It brought to mind a few women I've known or counseled with over the years who took it to a very extreme place. A place of timidity, rigidity of opinion, lack of thought and creativity and moreover, a place where freedom and strength, also known as feminism in some circles, were shunned. As someone who takes great delight in the freedoms of women, the strength that we can and do exhibit so often and with such greatness, the beauty and power that women like Maya Angelou have embraced with such grace, I have often been quite offput by this scripture and it's detailed and exhausting description of what I 'should' be doing at every given interval of my day.
Knowing that only truly remarkable fakes could pull off even a vague impersonation of this 'ideal woman', I gave up entirely, a surrender to failure which is undoubtedly more common than the lovely ladies in the church pews would admit. I also quietly allowed a large and imposing CANYON to spread between myself and the God who inspired such ridiculous and impossible instruction to be penned as a 'gift' for women. This is obviously not something we can agree on, God, so let's just not talk about it, shall we?
Having discovered relatively recently that in fact there IS a God, and knowing that He is wholly loving, failed to make a difference in my mind for this controversial passage. There are things I can never understand and never be, lets just leave it at that. In other words, 'Look, God, we just started speaking again. Let's not dredge up all that old stuff again, hm?'
But He has a way of doing just that, bringing up all those old things that we've tucked away to be dealt with later. So this is my later.
Here's the way I, and so many other women around the world, read Proverbs 31. And please note here- this is not the actual passage, but one woman's interpretation- and before you judge, understand also, that I know this isn't REALLY what it says.

"A wife of perfect character and form, who can find? God values her the most because she's better than you. Her marriage is completely happy 100% of the time and her husband is proud of her perfection. She never says or does anything against his will or opinion and is a bright blessing to his life because of it. She labors constantly within her home and never sits down to read a book or take a bubble bath or smoke a cigarette. She is wealthy enough to have servants and she's nice enough to treat them well. In spite of this wealth and service, she still makes all her own clothes, cooks all her own meals and never actually sleeps because she's made of sterner stuff than that. She is so industrious that she has enough for her family and the family next door as well, clothing and feeding all their kids too.
Her husband is a hunk and spends his considerable free time on currency trading. He has a lot of friends and they're all jealous of him.
She is a seamstress, a merchant, a trader and a vintner all at once and makes a considerable fortune on each vocation.
On top of all of this, she is also incredibly wise and intelligent and many come from far and wide to hear her speak. She is completely secure in the future because she knows how amazingly capable she is and because they're wealthy after all, so what's to be afraid of?
She never sits, never sleeps, never worries, never weeps, never yells or spanks or fails to read all the labels on her groceries to make certain they're all organic and don't contain red 25. And of course, because of all of this, her teen children, who are pimple free and full of peace, love and harmony, rise up and tell her what a bang up job she's done on every darn thing. Her husband never has an affair with a coworker, develops an addiction to pornography or beer or is ever late for dinner because this wise, beautiful, intelligent, smoldering woman is waiting at home with a meal made from scratch on a table she carved from the oak out back.
Many women do good things, but only the one who matches this description is worthy of love and due respect.

I imagine that for those of you who love Proverbs 31, seeing it butchered this way is a bit annoying. But you have to understand, there are those women out there who read it just this way, as a judgment on us, a hopeless task that we can never fulfill and one that would change us, mold us, into a cookie cutter Christian female without personality, practically without personhood at all. This verse is not beautiful to us, but damning, depressing and frankly, boring.

I came across a piece recently, which puts some of the actual proverb (not my parody) into a clearer perspective, at least for me. This is a character sketch of the proverbs 31 woman, taken from the Woman of Faith Study Bible


" Ahh, the noble wife. Busy, Busy Busy! How does one woman find time for so much?
That's it! She is not one woman. She's all of us- and none of us. In a time when most women were not taken very seriously apart from childbearing, the writer of this proverb dared to present a picture of a woman as a glorious, vibrant, competent and intelligent creation of God. The imagery is as relevant today as the day he wrote it. As we put some of the noble wife's talents into a modern context, we recognize her in ourselves and in our sisters.
Some women might go after quality clothing for their families and shop at several supermarkets to find the best buys. They fill their houses with plants. Their pantries are well stocked, their bathrooms are laden with plenty of toilet paper and fresh towels.
Some women contribute clean used clothing and food to the poor. They give birthday parties for disadvantaged children and tutor slow learners. They rock newborn babies at the hospital, wash windows for the elderly and take in foster children. Their homes are gathering places for neighborhood kids.
There are women for whom no job is too challenging or too niggling. They chop wood for the fireplace, mow the lawn and shovel snow. They repair the toaster, put up shelving, balance the budget and debug the computer. They also dress attractively, quilt and sew and sell homemade gifts on consignment.
A Godly wife may impress her workplace with her good judgment and reliability. She plans the weeks activities to make sure the important things come first, both at home and at work. She prays and sets family goals with her husband. She encourages him, asks about his day and shares her insight. On special occasions she may invite friends from his or her work to dinner.
A wife of noble character wears many faces and fills many roles- roles that can change with the seasons of her life. In essence, she draws her strength from The Lord to lay down her life for those she loves. Her creative industry may fill her day with countless activities or only one or two to which she gives herself deeply. Her reward? Her children adore her. Her husband cherishes her company, trusts her judgment and brags about her to all of his friends. She will be remembered- long after she is gone- not as a woman who beautifully knit a sweater or successfully balanced a budget, but as a woman who sought the Lord first of all."

Reading Proverbs 31, I have to assume that it isn't a to-do list of virtues or I'd be overwhelmed before I even began. It simply isn't possible to be all those things at once, or even a fraction of all those things, really. But as is often the case with God, quite often when I believe He's speaking judgment on me, He's actually speaking Mercy.
This passage needs to be exclaimed in every church, from every pulpit and spoken to every woman we meet. And it needs to be spoken in this way; not as an impossible task or a divining rod of spirituality, not as a measuring stick to gauge our failures and successes- but this; as an endless list of possibilities for who we are and who we can be.
This is not a passage of condemnation- or at least I've found a way to read it so it no longer strikes me as such- but one of limitless possibilities for freedom in who we are as women, to be whatever we're gifted to be in whatever way we're able. It isn't describing one single woman who miraculously accomplishes so many tasks, but describing all of us, living such vastly different lives, using our myriad talents and loving within our own individual marriages/ relationships. We are each of us so different, so purposefully different, that it would be a cosmic waste to conform to one rigid standard or tradition of living.
I believe this passage is a great and wise instruction on how to use our talents to make a way for ourselves in this world, and also a reminder that we aren't all the same, but are each so valuable to Him for those differences. Where one can sew, another might build, and still another write or sing or bake or rockclimb or sail or play drums. And all are 'worth far more than rubies' to the One who formed us, who gave us our gifts and who is always so faithful to provide ways of using them.
I've come to discover that these verses are not a means of separating the wheat from the chaff, the spiritual giants from the poor losers, as I have often seen myself, who can't get their act together in the wife/mother role- but rather a celebration of all of our differences and the beautiful tapestry we can become if we choose to love one another beyond those differences, and actually, love because of those differences. In terms of a 'to-do' list for my spiritual life? My number one rule of 'Love God and Love Others' still stands firm.

What Summer?

On reclaimed Weekends

It seems that about every 6 months I pass by my calendar in the dining room- look at the mess of appointments, playdates, church obligations, BBQ's, small group nights, volunteer stuff- and then, in a frenzy of rebellion, I cross out about half of what's on there, cancel appointments, drop off comittee's, refuse to attend one more BBQ no matter how fun it might be. My friends have most certainly been the victim's of these schedule clearing shinanigans and while I hate to disappoint people, I also have to go " STOP!!! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!" Which is where I find myself today.
And without fail, liberating my schedule always leaves me feeling FREE and able to breathe. I have a friend who shall remain nameless, and she's the worlds-best-multitasker. She cooks for potlucks, plays in the worship team, has a bazillion friends that she makes time for regularly, works part time, has two kids and one on the way...and she's still nice!! Give me 1/2 of that schedule and I'd be climbing the walls or running naked through the woods. So, I ask you, HOW does she do it?? If you're out there C., I'll just ask you- HOW DO YOU DO IT!?
Here's a brief recap of our life since March:
T-ball Tues and Thurs with games on Fri and sometimes Sat, gymnastics on Mondays, ladies bible study on Monday nights, small group with some friends on Wednesday nights, church on Sunday during which Ryan does sound, back to church Sunday night to help with sound and set up for the dinner they did for those who came for the Sunday night service, Ryan's truck's clutch goes out...two days later the tranny is discovered to be 'siezed up' and needs replacing also, too expensive, scrap the truck, borrow the Honda from Father in Law, air conditioning goes out, temps climp to the high 90's (of course they do), school's getting out, 2 parent's nights which Ryan and I split up for because they're also t-ball nights, gymnastics performance night, engine on my new-to-me Subaru goes out and needs to be replaced, put new engine in, IT goes out...ahem, right...put NEW new engine in car, all of this resulting in 3 weeks with only one pimpy Honda to drive the family around in...I score a landscaping job, do another pro bono for a pal and get another one from those two, Subaru goes back to the shop, I do a 4th landscaping job free of charge (it was for my mother)- all of this while; planning a trip to Mexico for August 1st, caring for 9 Scottish Terrier pups, cleaning up after a city sewer main breaks outside our house and floods our basement with poo, dealing with a refrigerator and washing machine which go out within a week of one another.....the list goes on. Seriously, it does.

All of this to say, I WANT MY WEEKENDS BACK. Starting Saturday. You're all my witnesses. I vow to pack a picnic and head to the zoo with my family. I will stroll, not run, through the exhibits and make time to stop and see the primates AND the bears. I will eat lunch on the grass with my husband of 9 years and watch the kids play unhurried. I will. I will. I will.
I will not forego the zoo trip to 'squeeze in' a coffee date with friends, a quick shopping trip or a bit of work on someones yard. I will not look at C.'s life and wonder why I don't have her energy and spunk and niceness, because realistically, it doesn't matter. I need more down time than the average person and this last 6 months proves it because I'm half crazy, I can feel it. *sigh*

Except for that appointment with the optometrist, I really should do that on Saturday. But I bet I can sqeeze it in in the morning...

On prayer

Alright, I have to tell you- I thought I knew this and perhaps you did too- which is why I'm announcing it like this. Because it hit me like a baseball bat a few weeks back and has radically changed my life, this unparalleled discovery, this unbelievable happening.
Did you know...get ready for this, people. You may want to sit down here...Did you know that

God is Actually REAL?

Wait, wait- don't hang up...this isn't preachy, I promise.

I'm not playing around here, honestly. And I certainly don't want to get 'religious' because as most of you know- that's really not what I'm about. But apparently I'd been going along thus far in my life really thinking that I knew this, when in fact, I did not. Not really. My prayer life sucked, to be frank. I just didn't do it unless I had to. Big investments, big problems, enemies that I wanted God to smite...or is it smote?...whatever, the point is that I approached prayer with the same hopeful, yet doubting regard, that I used to approach my magic eight ball when I was a kid.
Does Bobby like me???? *pleaseohpleaseohplease* shake the fabulous eight and wah lah! Yes, Bobby does like you and you will live happilyeverafter in a condo in Malibu.
Enter religion and the system changes to...
God, please keep the kids safe at school today and protect Ryan as he travels and pleaseohpleaseohplease let us be able to support our family this month... *shake the magic eight translates to 'say the magical phrase 'in Jesus name' at the end* and wah lah! Sometimes yes...sometimes no...sometimes wait. Just like the ball. And your odds are just about as good in prayer as they are with the little floaty triangle that HOLDS YOUR ENTIRE LIFE IN ITS INANIMATE HANDS!
I am reminded of our trip to Reno a few years back and my brief stint on the penny machines. I prayed more on that trip than ever. Put in my crisp one dollar bill and, you guessed it, *ohpleaeohpleaseohplease*...push the button and...darn it. Another dollar, another button push...disappointed again.
My prayers were EXACTLY like this with the same warning going through my head- 'prayers are based on chance and are for entertainment only. They are not intended for investment purposes." And do you know why? Because my belief in God was about as authentic as my belief in the floaty thing in the magic eight ball. I wanted to believe. But I just couldn't. I didn't know how to make myself believe in something that sounded too good to be true. so-
I asked God to introduce himself to me, to prove his reality if He was willing. And I went on with my life as if nothing was different, just waiting for the moment when He'd speak or one of the shrubs in my yard would catch fire...something, anything...that would tell me that he heard me.
In the meantime, I cared for my children, cleaned my house, went on playdates, did the laundry and I spent a week house sitting for my mom. It was during this time that I accidentally spilled a bottle of bubble bath in her jacuzzi tub. Everyone knows what happens when you do that right?

So there I am, bubbles literally over my head thinking it's awesome and laughing so hard I can hardly stand up. Ryan hears the laughter and comes to investigate. Bubbles everywhere...over the bath edge, all over the floor, up to the windows. We had to scoop them up and pile them in the shower to wash them down. Clean up was horrible- but the experience was so FUN, so full of innocent delight.
You think I'm getting off track, don't you? I'm not. Keep reading.

The following week my friend Holly suggests a prayer time with she and her friend Shelly. This particular time would be spent focusing on my 'original design', my internal makeup as God intended it when he created me. Skeptical? I was too. Because how do they know, right? Supposedly they ask God and He tells them. Even more skeptical? Me too. Because they could easily make something up. But I love Holly and I trust her in spite of her weird prayer life in which she actually believes she can hear from God. Shelly I don't know as well, but that worked out in my favor as I was about to conduct a very unprofessional scientific experiment.
I asked myself what I hoped to receive from this process and the answer was simple. Undeniable PROOF that God exists. Didn't have to be real to anyone else, but it needed to be absolutely clear to me. And it had to come from Shelly. I didn't know her as well, she didn't know me or my life- so I reasoned that if something personal, something she had no way of knowing, came about in this prayer meeting and came only from her, then that would be enough for me.

I began the time with my usual humor, cracking jokes, making fun- but trying to be as sincere and humble as I possibly could. This seemed silly to me, but I was willing to listen because who knows, right?

We're in the middle of praying, Shelly and Holly are saying words like jovial, spoken for, ingenious, justice, imperial.... All supposedly from God as He speaks it to them...words that were for me, my design as He intended it...sounds pretty good huh? and then Shelly stops and says "Lord, don't make me say it. Please don't make me say it."
uh oh. What does that mean? I'm getting pretty concerned and Shelly's holding her head in her hands....this is bad, I can feel it.
"ok, Melissa. I don't know what this means. And it sounds totally silly and I really don't want to say it, but I'm going to anyway."
Holly and I are looking at her suspiciously, looking at one another...and Shelly says,
"Bubbles." Long pause and we both ask simultaneously, "Bubbles??"
"yep. That's it. I don't know what it means, but that's it. Bubbles. Oh, and He delights in you."

I'll be honest people. I didn't get it. It wasn't until a day or so later, making a bath for my kids, pouring their bubble bath into our tub at home and watching the bubbles spread over the water, that I remembered that incident when we were housesitting. The spill, the laughter, that delighted, indulgent experience and in that moment I knew....undeniably, without a doubt, that HE had spoken to me. I sat there on the edge of my bathtub and laughed with joy. It caused me to draw all my wondering and exploration and questions into one reasonable conclusion; yes, people, there is a God. And he can see you in the bathtub. He delights in your laughter and finds joy in our play.

There is a God. This is HUGE. This is why they call it the good news. You know that feeling that you get when you're looking at your life and saying, "There's GOT to be more than this." Well, I'm here to tell you, yes, there is. We were designed to search for that, created to wonder if there wasn't more to it than just our own for-the-moment happiness. We were designed to search so that we could find what we ultimately need.

I've begun to pray about EVERYTHING. I prayed for strawberries the other day. I'm not kidding. I don't even know why I did it. I just had a craving for strawberry shortcake and right in the middle of the very brief, random prayer I get a knock on the back door. I was expecting my mom, so no surprise there- what WAS surprising was the giant bowl of garden grown strawberries in her arms. THIS KIND OF THING KEEPS HAPPENING TO ME! It's unnerving and cool at the same time.

So I'm just telling you- that if you have doubts or are just one of those people who says, No way- I'm not buying into the whole organized religion thing...that's ok. But I'd recommend this simple test. As sincerely as you can, ask God to prove his reality to you, to make himself known to you, to make it undeniable (if only for you). Think of it as an experiment. If nothing happens, you've lost nothing. If something happens, you've gained everything. These are much better odds than the penny machines in Reno or the magic eight ball. God is not silent, he is not absent, he is not an uncaring entity removed from humanities suffering and pain. He is real. He is real. I have to keep saying that over and over because it's so amazing, so life changing, so incredibly beautiful; this good news. He is not an inanimate object who's answers to our prayers are at His every dictatorial whim or which are so carelessly random that they have no impact on our lives.

And finally, in light of this, I have found one thing to be absolutely true; there is no trial so great, no pain so disabling, no wound so deep that His great love, his mercy and his ultimate realness are not more powerful and beautiful than those things which we encounter day to day. Why did it take me so long to get this??

"I lift my eyes up to the hills. Where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot slip- He who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed He who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord watches over you- The Lord is your shade at your right hand;
The sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.
The Lord will keep you from all harm, He will watch over your life;
The Lord will watch over your coming and going
both now and forever more."
Psalm 121

She's at it again...

Summer seems to be the one in our family who is always saying things that crack the rest of us up. There's one in every bunch.
Here's a recent conversation that took place in the car on our way across town:

Summer: "Mommy! Look at that bird in the road!!"
- I see it as it flies up onto a telephone wire above us-
Me: "Ooh! Summer, that's a dove. Isn't it pretty?"
Megan: "I thought Dove's were white."
Me: "Not all the time. I had a dove when I was a kid."
At this announcement, all the kids say in varying ways with equal amazement (As if I've just told them that I previously owned a water buffalo), "YOU DID?!"
Me: "Yeah. And mine was grey with a pretty brown band on its neck. But I hated it."
kids: "Why?!"
Me: " Because it cooed ALL the time! Constantly! It never stopped!! It was horrible!!" I start imitating the cooing noises of the bird in question with exaggerated enthusiasm. I hated that bird. Thinking about it still irks me...but anyway...so, I say "It was like a cooing alarm clock going off day and night! It was terrible!"
And Summer says...

" Well, maybe he wanted you to take the band off!"

Making Cupcakes and Singing Opera

Making Cupcakes and Singing Opera

When I look back over my marriage it seems impossible that nine years have passed. Just crazy. And to have been able to stay home rather than working, care for my kids, homeschool them when necessary, have coffee dates with friends or just read a book when I felt like being quiet- has always felt like somehow I was cheating the system. I won't lie to you- there have been moments of guilt.

Now, one could argue that raising children is work and I agree. But in my case, I actually like my children quite a lot and would rather hang out with them than just about anyone. They're funny, respectful, sweet tempered little people and I can honestly say that I enjoy my role in their lives. It is one of very little difficulty, to be honest.
So when Ryan called the other day at two in the afternoon and asked what I was up to, it seemed totally natural to respond, "I'm making cupcakes and singing opera." But you know- it got me thinking. Aside from the literal work it takes to hit those high notes in Pie Jesu, I live a pretty charmed life. I garden. I read. I go to the river and sit in the sand whenever the mood strikes me. I bake cupcakes and sing opera and have coffee with girlfriends and play the piano. I go to the zoo and the movies and...and...and...
Now, thrown in there are several thousand loads of laundry, household organization, cooking (which doesn't count because I'd rather be cooking than just about anything- so that has to go in the 'playtime' column), PTA meetings, Book Club meetings (Megan's, not mine), menu plans, grocery shopping on an increasingly tight budget, sick kids occasionally, more laundry, dishes, vacuuming, dusting, scrubbing toilets and coping with children whose natural tendencies are to be little teeny sinners. But still, even with the majority of my day taken up with those mundane tasks, I can't help but think I'm wonderfully blessed not to have a nine to five to worry about.
I won't say that I wake up every day thinking that I'm the luckiest person on the face of the earth, because typically I hit the alarm and am running the moment my feet hit the floor, making sandwiches, packing lunches, brushing hair, inspecting clothes and teeth and attitude before shoving the kid's in the car and hustling them off to school. But there are moments, like tonight as I fussed with plants in the garden or this afternoon when I sat reading in the sun or Wednesday when I baked cupcakes and sang Pie Jesu in my kitchen, that I think of the marvelous ways that The Lord has blessed my life and taken me from the literal homelessness/familylessness of my past and given me the world on a postage stamp lot in a tiny orchard town. These things bear consideration and contemplation and it would be wise, but probably unlikely, to remember these rich and colorful blessings as the years go on. So, this post is meant to honor those blessings, to show my thanks to a God who has an eye for detail and never fails to bring things full circle, and to let everyone in on what we've been up to lately...just as an added bonus;)

Our school's spring performance

One of our pretty girls

Summer's 7th Birthday



coupla cute chicks, if I do say so myself...




aria-inspired creations



sharing a dance

a picture from last summer just to mix things up



It's my ever increasing prayer that God will teach me to "Number my days correctly, that I might gain a heart of wisdom", to see them for the fleeting breezes that they are and fill them with all the things that are most important.

“Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery that it is. In the boredom and pain of it no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.”.
-Frederick Beuchner

Batter Up!!!

I'm still catching up to the fact that my baby's five year's old...and now suddenly I find myself in the role of a t-ball mom; helping with concessions, calling teeny tiny kids(whose helmets seem too big for their small heads) up to bat, cheering wildly for a game that isn't scored. I am repeatedly shocked by how quickly time has flown by and occasionally I long for the days of bottles and pacifiers and blankets. And then I come to my senses and hear myself yelling, "RUN, NOAH!! TAG THAT KID OUUUTTT!!!"
It's exciting, I tell ya. Just thrilling. I'm a pretty competitive person by nature and I really have to watch myself at his games so that I don't get TOO obnoxious while still being loud and supportive, which he is still young enough to think is wonderful. In the process, I am learning about baseball, something I had ZERO interest in previously.

*team pictures*

*Coach Josh and Noah having a 'man to man' moment*

Ryan's an assistant coach whenever he's able to get off of work in time for games and practices and is really enjoying the involvement and Noah's having a blast and really likes his coach. It's a great family activity and so fun to get out in the community and see folks we know!
I never thought I'd say this, but there's NOTHING like a warm evening, the smell of hot dogs from the concession stands and a ball game going on...seriously, NOTHING like it....