It Was Not What I Expected

Nothing about the wedding day was as I had dreamed it.  I had daydreamed, starry-eyed, during those years of tanned-skin, wild-haired, bare-footed girlhood, swinging on a farmyard swing.  I had dreamed and planned away, but this was not the day I had pictured.  Those dreams included a flowing, white gown and little flowers tucked in my unruly, romantic hair.  They included a tuxedo for my Handsome, along with flowers and more flowers beside a lake…with dappled sunshine giving way to a candlelight evening.  I pictured a medium-sized gathering of faces of loved-ones, and they all wore smiles.  The dream day was crowned with pure joy and well-wishes, and topped off with a humble honeymoon escape to somewhere lovely and simple and adventurous.

But as I stood awkwardly at the back of the decor-less, mostly-unfamiliar, silent church, none of those dreams had come to pass.  I wore a cheap dress, off the rack.  I straightened the tie of my Handsome for the outfit we had pieced together.  We walked up to the altar, us and my beloved childhood pastor, and three witnesses.  And we promised our lives away to each other before God.

We had no idea what we were doing.

 On that day, the things that were absent…the things of my dreams…were just that.  They were things.  And on that day, they mostly didn't matter to me.  I had decided they didn't matter.  Because the bottom line was that those things were not attainable at that time, and all I really wanted to do was to marry the man standing there with me.  And I wanted to marry him right then.

 Looking back, even amidst some regrets of moving forward with such understated plans…because there are regrets over not safe-keeping our future memories with more than a couple "snapshots" of a day that comes 'round one time and one time only…but looking back, even though I have mourned the loss of that girlhood dream, I realize that perhaps the way it unfolded was a more fitting beginning for us.

This marriage adventure.  The thing you have no idea about until you're in the beauty and blood and guts of it.  Because, really, marriage is never what you dream it will be like either.  At least that's my experience, and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one.  For sure there is at least one other person (and I happen to live with him) who would agree!  Still there are all these things that nobody ever tells you to expect about married life.  Or, maybe they do tell you, whether by words or living example, but it all just passes over your heads like a series of swift arrows shot by Cupid.

Nobody tells you how hard it is to try and live unselfishly.  You don't know that after the euphoria wears off in those early days, you may have a personal identity crisis as you change all your ID cards.  Furthermore, living for two really doesn't seem less expensive than living for one, and it really stinks to pay your bills and have fifteen dollars left for groceries for the next two weeks.  It puts a real hammer down on the romance, if you will.  You do not realize at the time, that you're marrying a sinner.  And you certainly, do not realize at the time, that he is marrying the worst sinner of all.  But time tells.  Time shows.  And when you think you're plugging along fairly well, you'll get whacked upside both your heads and have to learn it all over again at a deeper level.

In the painful moments, in the impossible and hopeless moments, whether caused by you or him or some other outside force…nobody tells you that you may feel a fleeting desire to run away.  Maybe they didn't tell you,

but HE has told us,

that if you stop ranting about why you and your way is right and take the time listen carefully, sometimes even needing to strain to hear it, the One who is holding it all together anyway is whispering a way He's provided out, "so that you can stand up under it."  The way out is not out of your marriage.  The way out is to step out of your selfish self.  The way out is to stop placing impossible expectations upon your marriage and life and spouse and self, and to instead gaze up into the only One who fulfills every dream and longing of our hearts.  And this painful, hard, yet beautiful thing needs to be done over and over and over again.  Refining thing, this marriage adventure.

There are other things nobody tells you, such as how incredible it is to have someone by our side whom you know will stick by you no matter what, because he has done so for 21 years.  Furthermore,  that you will do the same for him, because you, too, have a 21-year track record.  You will choose to do this, even when you don't like each other.  Because that, too, happens sometimes, and I'm sure nobody told us that either!  Or if they did, we didn't believe them.  Still the truth remains--nothing compares to the comfort of something constant in a constantly-changing world.

Finally, they don't tell you that at some point, you will understand you don't have to see everything eye-to-eye with this person in order to truly love-as-an-action love him and cherish him and the life you've built together.  How simple it would be if we saw everything the way I see it the same.  But, tell me.  Where's the challenge in that?

So maybe beginning this marriage adventure with less than the dream wedding really was a more realistic beginning anyway.  To begin with a fairytale would have created quite a catastrophe perhaps, when we realized marriage was much harder and much more wonderful in unexpected ways than I ever could have imagined as I swung my skinny, tan legs high up on that farmyard swing so many years ago.  Perhaps it really was best to fly by our seats with good intentions and hopes for a bright future, with just a couple of special touches and a handful of people who truly loved us standing by.  Or perhaps, it has just been…pure….grace.

Whatever the case, thank you for this incredible, adventurous ride, Mr. Dassow.

For all those things that we missed in the beginning, we did get one thing right--to choose to stand by each other no matter what.

With five states, five sons, adoption hopes, dreams both realized and dashed, and so many challenges and hardships and so much grace and goodness under our belts, I just can't imagine doing it all with anyone else.

I cherish you…and nobody could have told me that I'd feel like I do after twenty-one years.  It really is so much better than I imagined, just in a completely different way.

Hope, Harbored in Quiet Spaces

Unexpectedly, tears filled my eyes as I looked upon that old, weathered, presidential chair.  Worn, stiff, faded, it was just an inanimate object, but as I stood in that 200-year-old study, window overlooking the Potomac, I could sense the life that once sat there.

World on shoulders.  Heavy weight.  There were so many depending on him to fulfill his appointed task, and there was also the One, who watched to see if he would choose to say yes.  It was the hard thing, but the right thing, and so he stepped forward and filled the space that had been carved out for him to fill before the foundation of the Earth. 

He did not walk on water, no, but he did trust in the One Who does.  He was not perfect, but he stood for goodness and exemplified meekness...extreme power....controlled.  Where are our General George Washingtons today?

Where are those who aspire for greatness not for themselves, but for those who will come behind them?  Where are those who would give up absolute power, should it be offered to them, even twice, choosing instead to live a quiet and peaceful life as a fellow servant?

 

When pondering such questions, in the face of current events and heartbreaking news around every bend, such modern-day leaders seem absent.  They are here, though, but many times not where we expect them.  We want to see them in prominent places, and depending upon times and seasons, they indeed may be.  Other times, they are not the ones holding office and powerful positions.  In such times, let us be encouraged and remember that leaders are born at home, and raised by regular mothers and fathers.  Regular, except that the mothers and fathers are brave, and have vision, have hope to release the leaders they are raising when the proper time comes.

Regular people.  Servants' hearts. Doing the extraordinary in quiet and private spaces.  My heart wells up with thankfulness for you mothers and fathers who are doing just this, right now. 

Crazy Love

Few will read this post, and even fewer will understand it.  It's ok, though, because this post really is just for me.  A means to let my fingers fly and spell out the thoughts swirling within my mind and heart.

There was a time, around five years ago, when He began to nudge our hearts.  "There are so many, without," He said.  "You could do something about that," He said.  What began as a little spark, He fanned gently into a flame.  That flame fanned into a fire, until we were left with a choice: to shrink back due to the enormity and impossibility of the task, or to walk forward in obedience into the impossible dream of becoming an adoptive family.  We decided to leap.  We didn't want anything left on the table...we didn't want to look back and say, "We should have...why didn't we."

So, with excitement and still a little trepidation in our hearts, we dove into all the research and paperwork and question marks.  Paid fees, both monetary and emotional.  Collected and filled our house with junk to be sold for treasure, to help bring our treasure home.  Set up sales and sat outside for days in the hot sunshine and in the cold rain.  Watched miracles happen in wads of bills, wet and clean, being pulled out of the washing machine from seemingly nowhere.  Cash stuffed in glove compartment, the exact amount to make up for a disappointing payout from sold jewelry.  My body racked with unknown illness, and unable to continue with fundraising, complete strangers came to us and handed us money.  Friends showed up randomly on doorstep, with encouragement and checks for obscene amounts.  Always, the fees were covered when they were due.

All the while, while living and loving and growing our family at home, I chronicled the journey, wrote love notes to our unknown child whom we knew was out there....somewhere.  Then suddenly, it all stopped.  We waited and watched and waited some more.  Waited for the direction.  Waited to see how He would cover the next fee...but He never did...because the fee never came due.  Everything became a standstill.  We watched others realize the fruition of their call.  We hung on to our shred of hope that things would work out for us the way we'd hoped, too.

I remember the day she stopped by our home.  She was picking up a box of junk to be turned into treasure to bring her own little treasures home.  Our conversation turned from the mundane and polite, to the deeper things in life.  I expressed my sadness and frustration over seemingly living in a stand still.  Feeling a sense like we had life on-hold for something...but that something didn't appear to be anywhere in sight.  Meanwhile, we felt tight...stifled...needing to grow in so many ways...so expectant.  "You must find it hard to dream anymore," she said, as my eyes filled with tears at the realization of the truth of what she said.  She was so correct.  It was just so hard to dream anymore.

Months turned into years, and He began to move in our hearts again, though not in a way we had expected.  "Because everything is standing still," He said, it's time for you to move.  This time, He was calling us to m-o-v-e.  Once again faced with a choice: to walk forward in obedience, or to let fear paralyze us.  Once again, we knew we didn't want anything left on the table.  We didn't want to look back and say, "What if we would've...really, we should have."

So here we sit, out of Ur, and away from our loved ones and places.  Out of Ur, but not yet in our Promised Land, this is a difficult place to be.

Today we take down our Christmas tree.  Just a tree, but this particular year it's symbolic of so much more for us.  A Christmas out of Ur, and yet it felt like home with our family here with us.  Time spent cherishing and celebrating, it is now time to take down the tree.  It's time to move forward in obedience and with grace and with courage, even though at times we don't feel like it.  We're not home here, even though this is where He called us to go.  Somewhere, there's home, but we do not yet know where that is.  Again, He's calling us out.  Why does He think we need so much practice with this obedience?  It creates an uncertain and uncomfortable feeling, yet there's hopeful expectation at the knowing that all His ways are good.

I've felt this way before, and indeed continue to feel this way with regard to our adoption process.  We heard the call.  We made the choice.  We made the move.  We experienced miracles.  But we did not (yet?) reach the Promised Land.  It's crazy.  This crazy love which keeps us moving forward, pursuing what He has for us, believing in something we cannot see. 

When Irritation Leads to Peace

The vibrant colors have given way to muted shades of gold, copper, and brown.  It's still autumn, but winter is knocking gently on our door. 

It's a completely new experience for us.  For the last sixteen years, we saw golden leaves beginning in August, which waxed quickly before waning just as fast with a sucker-punch from winter.  That is fall in Alaska, and we would have been "punched" several weeks ago.  Instead, we're in the throes of fall in Tennessee.  Both are so different; both are so beautiful.  Seasons of change.

We have seasons in life as well.  Some come softly and linger, while some of them hit us with the full-force of a Northwest gale and refuse to quit.  But unlike the cycle of seasons, life seasons are often not so easily predicted. 

It's nice when we can expect what to expect, but to have everything wrapped up so neatly doesn't leave much room for unexpected blessings, does it?  I love such surprises, so living life unwrapped, so to speak, is appealing to me for that reason.  However, what about the "unwrapped" seasons that go on with no apparent answers, with no obvious surprise? 

Our family has been through a season of tremendous change during this past year.  It's been a crazy combination of exhilaration, heartbreak, joy, hope, and dashed expectations.  And though we are settled, we remain in limbo. 

I feel time ticking, and I am full of questions.  Where do we go from here?  Will these healings be complete?  What about other journeys you've called us on?  Adoption process at a stand-still...what about that?  God whispers to me in the midst of all my questions.  He gives an answer which at first seems so irritating.  "Be still and know that I am God." 

Be still?  Are you serious?  "Yes," he whispers again.  And then I am reminded of all the knowns in the midst of the unknowns.  The knowns are the things that have happened already.  They are also the things that are true.  So many of them are things to be thankful for. 

Where do we go from here?  We continue to listen to His voice to lead us, and we thank Him for bringing us to where we are.  We live well, and enjoy all the fullness and beauty that the days hold--right here.

Will the healings be complete?  We don't know, but we thank Him for taking the seizures away from a son, and for providing a diagnosis and plan that has evaded me for the last two years, and for giving us access to the best eye doctor in the U.S. for another son.

What about the adoption process we began in 2010 that has gone seemingly nowhere?  I have no answer for that either, whether it is meant to come to fruition or was a test of obedience.  But we thank Him for increasing our faith and for the miracles He has worked along the way.

What additional questions would you add here?  What are the answers that evade you in this season you are in?  I most likely wouldn't have your answers, but I can point you to the One that has them.  I can almost guarantee that if you listen closely, you'll hear Him whispering, "Be still..."  It's irritating at first, but that's ok.  God is not threatened by our irritation.  What's even more awesome than that, is that when we choose to be still even though we don't like it, suddenly, there is room for us to give thanks.  We give thanks in the midst of our questions, for the knowns and you know what?  An unexpected blessing occurs afterall.  We realize it's ok to not have the answers.  We are filled with joy as we focus on the giving thanks.  There's so much to give thanks for, and we are filled with peace.

Thanks.  Peace.  Joy.  Those are good things to be had in any season.  

Peace For the Moment

A stray sunbeam glinted off his little blonde moppet this morning, his eyes squinting and facing the heavens, as gold whirled all around him.  There was pure wonder and admiration in his face--soaking it all in--this miracle of the seasons changing was not lost to him.  I looked at him through the upper-story window, fuller-than-full with the beauty of it all.  I wanted to capture it on film, but to try would mean to miss the moment entirely.  So I just stood and soaked it in.  Sometimes, we just need to be still.

We need to seize moments like these.  Amidst the whirling and twirling and never-ceasing of life demands, these times can easily go unnoticed.  How many moments do I miss?  While I'm staring down at the vacuum I'm running, or on my knees scrubbing misses around the toilet?  When my eyes are pasted to a page or a computer screen, and a little voice (or 3 or 5) beckons, will I look up?  If the house becomes quiet because the smallest occupants seized the moment and ran out into the rain, will I run out and join them?  Will I choose to do this, or will I just be held captive by the noise and worry in my own mind, missing moments all the while?

I never knew life would be like this.  I never knew it would be so beautiful and yet so messy and so, so unrelenting.  There are so many people and things to love and yet life is also full of constant demands, full of noise.  I never knew the noise would surround me but also clamor in my own mind, from the moment I wake until the moment my eyelids close again at day's end.  I never knew I would need to be intentional about finding moments of solace--to breathe, to pray, to think straight.   Furthermore, I never knew that "solace" would come to mean something so different as I went through various stages in life.  What once required a solo trek to a mountain top, now must be accomplished surrounded by a din that threatens to level the place.  I do not wish for things to be different.  I do long for me to be different.  I long to be molded and changed so that peace will come easily no matter my surroundings. 

Thoughts tumble around in my mind like those whirling, golden leaves.  Not all the thoughts are quite so beautiful.  Some need be snatched up, like my sons jumping and reaching up to catch the leaves before they hit the ground.  They need to be snatched up and held captive and made obedient to the One who stands like a solid, immoveable rock at the center of my whirling, chaotic life.  Sometimes there's so much floating around that I can barely see Him, but He never moves, and He never changes.

Everything else changes.  There's a change in the air in my life, in my family.  I feel it stirring, though I don't understand what it will look like, where it will lead.

"From where I'm standing
Lord it's so hard for me to see
Where this is going
And where You're leading me
I wish I knew how
All my fears and all my questions
Are gonna play out"

-Casting Crowns

When the leaves cascade all around and down, they seem to just land wherever.  I don't just want to land wherever.  Just as I need to be intentional about seizing moments or taking thoughts captive, I want to be intentional about where I'm going.  As I wait for the winds of change to happen, I also need to be intentional about living fully here now.

I need to trust that what ought to be, will be.  I need to trust that what's supposed to be now, is.  I need to soak it all in, be still, and yet be ready to move when He says, "Go."

"If there's a road I should walk
Help me find it
If I need to be still
Give me peace for the moment
Whatever Your will
Whatever Your will
Can You help me find it"

-Sidewalk Prophets

 

How Can This Be?

Thirteen years.

Thirteen years ago, this son of ours made us parents.

I was completely clueless as to the immense joy and pain that accompanied the little bundle in my arms.  I had felt the changes beginning as his heart beat away so beautifully in that secret place...before he was born.  But the day he was born...the moment he was born...something new was born in me too.  And something else began to die.

As I carried him in my womb, life was overwhelmingly, nearly completely about me.

How I was feeling.  
How my body was changing.  
The things I wanted to obtain for my dream of having this new baby. 

Of course I thought about him, and dreamed about him, and loved him desperately.  I wrote him letters, talked to him, and played him songs.  I changed my diet to better nourish him, exercised, slept more, and made all my prenatal visits.  I also loved his daddy, my husband.  But to be truly honest, I must see and say that my life revolved mostly around myself.

"Yet she will be saved through childbearing—if they continue in faith and love and holiness, with self-control."           1 Timothy 2:15

Miraculously, marvelously, with thanksgiving, I am saved from eternal death by faith in Jesus.  So what is up with this verse in 1 Timothy?  While I think this verse points to a couple of things, I believe one of these truths is that through mothering, we are saved from ourselves.  Please don't stop reading if you've never experienced childbirth...

Mothering is amazing and full of unspeakable joy.  It is also hard.  Crazy hard.  It requires every last bit of strength you have, along with the realization that no matter how strong you are, it is not enough.  Supernatural strength required here.  This is what I mean when I say that when my son was born, I began to die.  I had to admit to failure.  I could not do this on my own.  I couldn't even do it with the help of other people, even though that help is welcome and necessary.  Bottom line: I had to begin to let go of the self-preserving hindrances that keep me from desiring to give of my life for others' good. 

In His wisdom and mercy, God has used motherhood to gradually give me desire to live for the good of others.  So, in His wisdom and mercy, He has also used motherhood to kill my selfishness.  This paradox of dying to live is a repeating theme, isn't it?  I may as well disclose right now, that my selfishness is not yet dead.  Oh it's dead spiritually...as far as the east is from the west...ever since the day that is emblazoned on my heart and mind...when I realized God wanted me....and I said "yes."   But those sinful habits, they run deep, and this dying process is slow. Yet I see victories, and I love Him so much for working those in me.   

I am so grateful that He gave me this little-guy-turned-young-man for helping to teach me these things.  Unknowingly, by his very presence and needs, my son works alongside His Creator to teach me that life and death are so intricately related.  Indeed we must die...to live.  This is true in so many ways.  This is the truth that creation is screaming over and over and over.  I want to hear this.  I need to hear this, over and over and over.  

All of our children work with the Creator to teach this to us all.  All of our children--whether born of our own body, or from another.  Whether living in our homes under our care, or in our lives by some other means.  Biological child, adopted child, grandchild, niece or nephew, neighbor child, Sunday School student child....they are all screaming this over and over and over.  We must die a little, bend a knee, and bend an ear to hear it.  Not all screaming is loud, you know.  But if we are women we were made to mother, in one way or another.  We must hear this message, so that we may live.  

 

 Happy 13th Birthday, "Wise Bobcat."  We couldn't be more proud of the young man you've become.

She Has a Limit...Even if Involuntary

Boyland is on the heels of the stomach flu, which has been on the heels of a two-week illness for this mama.  Exhausted from waking several times to empty puke buckets, and still experiencing the last (hopefully) nagging symptoms from my own latest illness, I am feeling nearly the best I've felt in...months! 

This past year has been difficult for me physically...and mentally.  Nothing major, and yet majorly life-impacting.  So many wonderful moments have been had in this precious family of mine, though there had been a heavy cloud hanging over me, making it difficult to truly enjoy.  I have enjoyed life....it's just the simplest things had been a struggle.  The simple tasks of our daily rhythm had left me completely taxed, feeling as though I were running a deficit that could never be reduced.

Numerous times I've tried to ascertain what was going on with me.  I thought it was just "a new normal" of sorts, having completed a pregnancy in my *ahem* older child-bearing years, and having completed the nursing year with my little guy.  As he weaned and I began sleeping through nights, and I still felt cruddy, I realized that wasn't it.  Then I thought we just had too much going on.  I began striking things off the calendar like a mad woman, until there was nothing left to strike off.  I still could barely pull myself out of bed in the morning, and the tears still welled up several times every day.  There were so many things I wanted to do...simple things with my boys, things around our home, things to help out neighbors and friends.  I felt powerless.

Since May, I've struggled with repeated illness.  Not just a few days of a cold here and there, but infections that knocked me flat-out for a couple weeks at a time.  They would hit me every three to five weeks.  I did everything I could think of to strengthen my constitution--eating extremely healthily, disciplining myself with an earlier bedtime, taking various supplements, praying for health and wisdom.  It seemed I was doing everything, and it wasn't good enough. 

Finally, I felt the nudge to be proactive and see my doctor during one of my non-ill windows.  I'm SO glad I did.  After two doctor's opinions and a ton of lab testing, we got the information that helped get me on-track.  Turns out I had been fighting Strep chronically, despite several antibiotic treatments.  I also was fighting re-activated Mono infection (I had Mono in high school and the virus never leaves the body, just lies dormant unless you become extremely worn-down.)  To top it off, I was hypothyroid, which wreaks all sorts of havoc on the body, including depressing the immune system.

When my doctor called me with my test results, I cried.  I cried because I finally saw there was a reason for feeling so bad, and I cried because I saw hope for feeling better.

Within a few days of being on an antibiotic to kick out the remainder of the Strep, and being on a thyroid med, I was in tears again....because I felt like a completely different person.  Jessica was back.  It wasn't until I began to feel good, that I realized the extent to which I'd felt so terrible, and that it had been that way for a long, long, long time.

Any of you who know me, know that I'm not a medicine-taker.  I took a little Ibuprofen after my last couple births, and that was a big deal to me.  Whenever I've been on antibiotics, which unfortunately has been a lot over the last year, it's been because I've been direly ill.  I'm more what you'd call...an "herbs 'n' spices-type o' gal.  I can see, however, the blessing modern medicine is when it is truly needed.  I am SO thankful for antibiotics when they are needed, and I am SO thankful for this thyroid medicine.  I hope I won't need to take it forever, but I'm so thankful it's available for me to help strengthen my body at this time.

Why am I taking the time to articulate all this?  I don't know.  Maybe for my own remembrance-sake.  Maybe so I'll remember God's faithfulness, and that He chooses to let us walk through difficulty for certain seasons.  As I've been going through this trial, I've been remembering that nothing can touch me that has not passed His approval.  That's a hard one to swallow at times, but it is truth.  Because I know God's character, I am assured that He is good, and He is good, ALL the time.  If He's allowing me to have a hard time, there's a very good reason for it.  I don't need to know the reason why (although I would really like to know sometimes.)  His plans for me are good, and His plans for me are to prosper me and give me hope and a future.

One thing that I've learned, and I'm trying to really grasp and not let go of, is that I do have a limit.  I tend to think I can "do it all," and I even enjoy the thrill of "pulling it all off."  However, my life should not be defined by what I do, it should be defined by who I am.  When I'm so busy doing, I'm most likely missing out on just being.  I am after all, a human "being," not a human "doing."  (Not sure where I heard that, but I like it.)  Who I am, miraculously, is an imperfect-yet-spotless-in-His-eyes daughter of the King and Creator of the Universe.  I can rest in that.  There are tasks appointed to me, by Him, for each day He chooses to give me breath.  That is not dependent upon how I'm feeling on any particular day.  Whatever a day has in store for me, if I am just "being" His daughter, I can count on Him directing my tasks.

Nearly all the days this past year that I've been sick, and there have been many, the biggest goal of mine was to get through the day as self-preserving as possible, so I could get to bed as early as possible, with the hope that in the morning I'd feel a little bit better so I could get on with doing life.  What a waste.  How selfish.  This last month or so, I've been trying to focus on the fact that even if I'm flat-out in bed sick, there are tasks for me to fulfill in those days that only I can fulfill.  Could it be that the things I thought were so important to get done were not my appointed tasks for those days?  Maybe all these sick days have been allowed so that I would remember my greatest task is to, like Mary, sit at the feet of Jesus.

As a mommy, there are five little sets of Jesus' feet for me to be sitting at.  If I take time to focus in on one of these little ones--to sit on the floor and put a puzzle together with them even though there are scads of housework and paperwork to do, for example--I am sitting at the very feet of my LORD.

How

Amazing

Is

That?

It is good and right for us to give thanks in everything, even in sick days.  Not so easy, but good and right.  There are lessons to be learned and goodness to be had in the trials, or they wouldn't be allowed to be a part of our story. 

Roller Coaster

I certainly don't blog much, considering how much I love to write.  Life has had us on a roller coaster this summer, and there hasn't been much time to think things through, much less put them to words.



 "You know, when I was nineteen, Grandpa took me on a roller coaster.  Up, down, up, down.  Oh, what a ride!  I always wanted to go again. You know, it was just so interesting to me that a ride could make me so frightened, so scared, so sick, so excited, and so thrilled all together! Some didn't like it. They went on the merry-go-round. That just goes around. Nothing. I like the roller coaster. You get more out of it."


(Brownie points for anyone who can name that offensive-in-some-scenes, yet-has-some-strong-points-to-it movie.)

Indeed, I will take the roller coaster over the merry-go-round any day, but that doesn't take away the fact that this life path we've chosen has me quite whipped and jolted at times.  Life is quite simply--FULL--and although I'm so thankful for that, I'm also tired.

We have had some brief, "quiet" (it's all relative, you know) reprieves.

 

But mostly there's a constancy.  There's a blessed constancy of meeting physical needs and mental needs and spiritual needs and also little-boy-talk and preteen talk and education planning and  meal planning and meal prep and meal clean-up and snuggling and "doctoring" and paperwork and more paperwork and  Mt. Laundry and I won't go on because I've lost most of you anyway (!) Life throws in the death of a parent, some very emotional reunions, two gonna-kill-me Strep infections, a trip to the ER, the adoption process, no time to process any of it, and you've got yourself a roller coaster. 

I'm also learning that as your little ones grow into bigger ones, it causes you to be even more aware how short the days really are.  So much that needs to happen, so many things that we want to do, yet not enough time for any of it.  You routinely feel like your day just began and yet it's time for the nightly bedtime routine.  You're ready to start out the week but suddenly it's Friday.  You still feel like a new mommy, but you wake up with a 12-year-old.  Our pastor just spoke about this very thing.  He said basically, that it doesn't seem there's enough time in the day for everything...because there isn't enough time in the day for everything!  Even still, everything has its proper time.  The Word says so, and I believe it.  

How imperative it is, then, that we live the fullness of our current season--whatever that is.  We can't afford to be wishing ahead or pining for before.  This is the moment God has given us to live--right now.  There are things that can only be accomplished now in this season, that we may miss, if we give into the distractions of before or later.  We aren't guaranteed anything else...

ahhh....besides the after of this life...which will never end...and there WILL be time for

every.

thing.

It's ok then, and even preferable, to ride the roller coaster here, even if you get a little whipped and jolted.  Even if it seems everyone around you is moving forward and you feel like you're treading water.  Even if you feel you can't get to all the things you want to do.  What's important is that you get to all the things you should do--those things that can only be done in this season.  Those things that God put you here to fulfill.  The proper season for the other things will come, even if not in this lifetime.  I want so much for my life to be poured out completely...to live fully in each season I'm given.  I want it more than comfort.  I want it more than predictability. 

Thank You, Lord, for my roller coaster.  Give me the grace and wisdom to fulfill those things which can only be fulfilled during this season.

The Halloween Thing

Every year I think on this, and I'm always curious to hear others' thoughts on "the Halloween thing." I hope you all will share a little with me in the form of a comment, about how you see this holiday.

So here's my Halloween history: Growing up, I loved Halloween. I plastered our house windows and doors with cardboard cut-outs of pumpkins, ghosts, goblins, and the like. I'm amazed my dear parents put up with it; it was seriously tacky around there from October 1 to November 1. One year I even fashioned a ghost out of a sheet and hung it in a Pine tree. I loved the spooky music sung in music class, and the homemade haunted houses put up in the local communities. I loved perusing the Halloween aisle at the local dime store (that's what we called it--the "dime store"--ha!)

I loved dressing up and trick-or-treating. We lived outside of town, and so when I was little, Mom would drive my brother and I around the countryside to friends' and relatives' homes to trick-or-treat. We would stay and visit a few minutes with each (or sometimes much longer than a few minutes...or so it felt to an anxious little trick-or-treater!) Every year, I looked forward to our friend Charlotte's homemade popcorn balls, and my Aunt Verlie's big bag of candy (which out of many, many bags of candy, was labeled with my own name.)

When I got a little older, I would stay overnight at a friend's house in town. We could do the traditional, walk-down-the-sidewalk-and-go-door-to-door trick-or-treating....and so the progression of this holiday began... As my classmates and I got older, Halloween evolved into overnights with a gory movie. I positively shudder to think of the things I put into my mind. I certainly would not view these types of movies now, and CERTAINLY would not allow my kids to watch them. During these high school years, other classmates preferred it to be a mischief-making event...and later into an excuse to party (not in a good way.) Kudos to my mom and dad...they kept a pretty good eye on me and I really didn't participate in the Halloween mischief. I would have if I'd had the chance, though, and I remember many who did. They got into all sorts of trouble (if they were the lucky ones who got caught...aka the ones who had people who cared enough about them to catch them.)

During college, for students on-campus, Halloween was all about the dressing up and drinking...house parties and bars. Unhealthy. Scuzzy. Skanky. Not a good thing to be a part of...and as I grew in maturity and became a Christian and grew in my Christian walk, I realized that.

As a young-married, I loved decorating at Halloween time, but stuck to the cute pumpkins and little black kitties. We moved to Alaska, and the decorating charm wore off as my cute little trinkets froze in the ground or whatever. Let's face it--pumpkins and snow just don't really go all that well together.

We had our first baby...and to have my own little dolly to dress up however I wanted was SUCH fun. At 3 months old, Little Wise Bobcat was my own little red chili pepper and he was ADORABLE. We drove him up to visit the grandparents at their cabin. (The year before he was born, I dressed up our dog--yes, our DOG, as a princess and we drove up to their cabin to "trick-or-treat"!) We visited and ate candy. What's not to like about that?!

Baby #2 came along and of course I had to dress up my newest dolly. He was an adorable baby lion and the big bro was a fireman. Adorable. We were invited to a harvest festival at a local church, which had a little hot dog supper and games/prizes for small children. Lots of fun and we did that for the next few years. The only exception was the year we tried a larger festival at the fairgrounds. YUCK. We spent 1/2 the night in notoriously long lines, about 1/4 the night trying to distract our babies from seeing some horrendously gory costumes, and the other 1/4 the night playing games. I was becoming very disenchanted, as I thought about the years to come. Is this something we really wanted to put time and energy into?

Through these years, I have noticed something else. An upping of the ante, you might say. Gone, for the most part, are the "cute" Halloween decorations I used to see around and about. Marketed and displayed in their place, is a whole host of really, really disgusting decor. You know what I'm talking about. Things designed to strike shock and fear in a person. It used to be fun to check out the seasonal aisle. Now I find myself avoiding that area of stores entirely, particularly if I have the children with me, even needing to avoid certain stores for the entire month of October, in some cases.

Jessica, you're going a little overboard here!!!! Maybe I am. But...am I? It is my job to instill and encourage goodness in my children. Do these other things really have any place here if that is my goal? As children of The King, we ought to be encouraging faith in our children--not fear. The roots of Halloween are pagan...and dark. Honestly, and unfortunately, those things were a draw to me as a kid; it was harmless fun, right? I was fascinated by the spooky music, the witches and ghosts, and scary stuff. I know we could ignore those aspects (and we do) and make a big deal out of the dressing up in a good way and the candy and things. However, then we'd be setting the stage for the kids to always expect something to go on during Halloween. We'd be ever-so-subtly instilling in them that celebrating darkness is cute. There's a progression to it all. Feel good/eat candy/dress up now....but one day they'll be with their fellow teenage friends and having to make a decision on a movie...or they'll be on a college campus and deciding what to do. In other words, Mommy won't be there to watch their every move. If Halloween was always a big deal, will they still be expecting it to deliver a thrill? I'm picturing the partying and carousing and wearing of skanky outfits that goes on, all in the name of "good fun." Yuck. We need to do all that we can now...to help and equip our guys to choose goodness in the future.

I know that despite Halloween's history, many families do try and participate in the innocent aspects of it--like the dressing up/pretending/eating candy aspects. I'm not diggin' at ya if you do. :) We tried for a few years to wade through it and take the good out of it, leaving the bad. We just found that it took too darn much energy--energy that is precious and in short supply during this season of life. At some point it became apparent that we'd rather put that energy toward other means. There are so many GOOD things to encourage our boys to do!

We've spent a few years trying to think of the perfect solution. I admit that some years I sort of lament of how fun it would be to dress my little cuties up and take them trick-or-treating. But, here's the reality: Put energy into costumes...probably money too, but definitely energy. Cover up the costumes with a huge winter coat. Brave the wind and cold and yet more WIND to go--somewhere--where we may or may not see things we'd rather not. Definitely we'd be instilling in them that it's all cute fun. Hmmm...no thanks.

We ditched the festivals several years ago. One year we went swimming. That was a fun alternative. We have some fun neighbors who have a hayride every year...and we look forward to that as our big harvest event in lieu of Halloween. Still there's a bit of "what should we do" as we reach the end of the month and the hoopla rises. There are good things to take part in. Do we want to? The answer, for us, has been "no".

So, for the last couple years, this is what October 31 looked like for us. A bowl of candy sat in the kitchen. We never have trick-or-treaters...but you never know...and besides, we like to eat all the left-overs (which usually consist of the entire bowl.) We got all sticky and gooey carving a big pumpkin, roasted and ate yummy pumpkin seeds, and set the pumpkin out on the front porch. We watched It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown over a bowl of popcorn. Before bed, we ran outside in the dark and cold in our jammies to see how pretty our pumpkin looked from the road. How boring! Except it really wasn't. It was a warm, fun evening in together...and we enjoyed it very much!

I wrote the majority of this post LAST YEAR! Here I am on October 31 once again, and here is what our night looked like. We cozily ate our family supper of homemade baked beans and potato soup. Boys cleaned up their toys and put on their jams, and returned to the kitchen table for root beer and the caramel corn and pumpkin bars we made earlier in the day. Our happy pumpkin, which we carved a couple nights ago, glowed warmly. The front porch light was on, just in case, as we laughed through the classic Great Pumpkin. A pleasant family evening, which they will hopefully remember, but without all the pomp and spook-umstance.

Random Monday

It's been an absolutely gorgeous, sunny, crisp day today! As much of a summer-and-sunshine girl that I am, I still really enjoy fall. Probably, September is my favorite month, which is why Tony and I married in September. We recently celebrated 17 years, which quite frankly, blows my mind. Time is flying....

Life is beautiful....

and I scarcely feel there's time to catch a breath.

This is something that's been on my mind--a lot--especially since Zachy was born. I keep thinking about the passage of time...different times and seasons...including the times and seasons of a human life. We hang onto this life...cling to it with all we've got. Yet, this is just a blink of an eye compared to what lies ahead. Most of the time, things like new wrinkles and gray hair don't bother me. I must admit, however, that I've caught a glimpse of myself occasionally (like in the mirror in the stairwell) and actually caught myself thinking, "WHO is THAT?!" I felt a tinge of glum, and then remembered with a smile that the wrinkles and gray hair are TEMPORARY!! My body is going to continue to show signs of age, faster and faster all the time. I will develop more aches and pains. This too is all temporary, for there is a place being made for me by my Savior who knows me and loves me so well.

Do you, my dear reader, know this Savior? Do you know this One who ensures our futures if we just ask him to? Do you know the One who ensures that our gray hairs, wrinkles, and ailments are temporary? He is the One who knew you before He created the Earth...who made plans--good plans for your life, to prosper you and not to harm you? If you don't yet know this Jesus, I pray you will come to know Him soon; He's been waiting for a relationship with you!

Furthermore, not only does He ensure the prosperity of our futures when we choose to follow and serve Him, but He also sees every secret sacrifice we make. He sees all those little and not-so-little things you do that make you wonder, "Does it even really matter at all?" All those things DO matter if we are doing them to His glory.

The boys and I were talking about this recently. I asked them, "How do we praise God?" They had several wonderful answers, such as, "singing His praise", "reading our Bibles", "memorizing scripture", "helping Mommy and Daddy", and "being kind to others". They were surprised when I also added to their list, "running fast", "riding your bikes", "playing Playmobil together", and "working in your gardens". Whatever we do, if we do it with thanksgiving to the One who works in and through us, we praise God in so doing! He is the one who gave us the blessings we enjoy in nature, our physical bodies, and relationships. He is the one who made us to be able to run, to taste good food, appreciate an amazing sunset, and experience the invigorating fall breezes. Everything good is from Him. It all is to His glory.

"Random Monday" is the title to this post, and wow is it random! Seeing as I began writing this with the main intent of encouraging you all to teach your children how to do household chores, I see it REALLY IS aptly named.

SO...moving right along... Today I experienced a real blessing, a reward, a fruit of labor if you will. So much mothering advice I've received has been about letting your children help you, even when it would be easier to do a task yourself. I've taken this to heart. When little ones clumsily scoot the chair over to the already-crowded kitchen counter while screeching, "Can I be your kitchen helper??!!" I find something for them to do to help, or should I say, to "help". You moms all know why I put quotations around that word! When a little one excitedly asks to scrub the toilet, and I'm thinking, "GROSS! This is going to be a MESS!" I do my best to smile, hand them the brush, and say, "Sure Honey, let me give you a few pointers." (Incidentally, I stand very near the scene to be sure they wash their little paws thoroughly afterward!)

Well, this past year, I've stepped it up in chore training. We've taken time to work with boys step-by-step to accomplish different household tasks the correct way. This fall, we implemented an official "chore time", right after breakfast. This is in addition to their expected tasks like making their beds, etc. I'm talking real housework--the stuff that in the past, Tony or I do or it doesn't get done-stuff. The boys LOVE this time and race to the chore chart to see what they get to do that particular day.

My heart swelled with gratitude last Friday night, when 6-year-old Spunky Cub exclaimed with exceeding joy, "Monday is MY day to clean the upstairs bathroom...and that means I get to use the new bottle of toilet cleaner!!!!!" Tony glanced my way and said, "It really is the little things, isn't it?!" The little boy is looking 3 days in advance to his chance to use the newest bottle of toilet cleaner. Wow.

This morning during daily chore time, I was working in the laundry room (my big focus chore for Mondays.) I went to use the bathroom afterward, and it was sparkling clean (and I didn't clean it!) It's an amazing joy to use a sparkling bathroom that I didn't sparkle! I then walked up the stairs, noticing that they were fluffy and dirt-free (and I didn't vacuum!) I then went into the kitchen, and the floor was swept, the table was scrubbed, the counters were clear and clean, and the dishes were washing (and I did none of the above.)

I feel as though I've arrived, Ladies and Gentlemen!

So, Mamas...get busy! Teach those chillins to pitch in, and in a big way. They will love contributing to the family in this way, you will love how helpful they are, and their future spouses will thank you. It takes work and patience to train those kiddos well, but it is well-worth the effort to help them find enjoyment and fulfillment in the household tasks they'll be doing their whole lives. In my book, it's as important (actually probably more important) than teaching them math, spelling, science, or a multitude of other skills and subjects. Really, only learning to read and study Scripture trumps the chore training.

Let's see...what other randomness do I have going on today? Well we've had the garden harvested for awhile now, except for the carrots. We pulled up about 1/2 of what was left of them today. When we have those eaten, we'll get the rest. I've been learning so much about gardening. The most important of which, is one must have healthy soil. Most of you are shaking your heads and saying, "Well of course...". It's taken me awhile to learn this, however. We'll be doing a big amending this fall, in hopes of a greater harvest next year. We still did ok this year, poor soil and all, but I'm excited of the prospect of rich, fertile soil for next summer.

This year yielded lots of carrots, quite a few (small) potatoes, TOMATOES (thanks to my Aunt Debbie who mailed us some water walls from Kentucky,) lots of Romaine, sugar snap peas, radishes, green onions, yellow zuchinis, and a wee, pathetic, li'l pumpkin. Eaglet and I try every year to grow a nice pumpkin. Every year is pretty much a flop, BUT, we have big plans to try again next spring!

Other randomness for this crazy-long post: We've been having a fun time learning lately. Just studied the Great Fire of London. The boys created the city of London:

And then to really re-enforce learning:

..they set the thing on fire. I LOVE homeschooling!

We've spent a fair amount of time around the fire pit lately:


We had a great little bonfire supper last Friday night, which included dessert:

No shame. They're licking the left-over caramel from the caramel apples, in case you're wondering.

...and to conclude this very looooong, rambling, stream of consciousness post:

Here's a couple cute baby photos as a reward for sticking with me! Check this one out--he's been falling asleep sucking two fingers lately:

Time a-flying or not, life is pretty sweet.

Stuff

It happens to me the last week of every year. I begin to feel closed in and smothered by "stuff" and feel an overwhelming urge to pare down, organize, and label. The decor which added such a feeling of cozy warmth just a month ago now hems me in, and begs to be put back to rest in storage. I have no issues with returning seasonal decor to storage, but organization is a huge stretch for me. It is not my talent--at all. I don't like to be wasteful, and so paring down is difficult for me. I always seem to come up with ideas for why or how something could become useful at some point. The problem with this line of thinking, is that the opportunity for a given object's use may not come along for a loooooong time. I am also not the best organizer. Few things aggravate me more than complete disorder and disarray; however, coming up with a plan to avoid this is difficult for me. My husband, who is masterful in this area, gave me a tip:

"If it is not FUNCTIONAL or FABULOUS, it has to go."

Also, I have an unusual task this year, in that I am trying to disassemble our school room. I need to find a way to fit six years' worth of books, kits, and supplies into 1/2 of the nursery closet and book shelves throughout the house. It's been such a treat having a room set aside for all of our school books and supplies, and I feel rather sad to give it up. However, it is time--time to make room for more beds for more little people! So far, I have about 1/4 of it moved and in place.

Has anyone else noticed how organizational projects turn into a series of rabbit trails? In bringing up school supplies to the nursery closet, the nursery had to be totally cleaned out and organized. The baby books that were in the closet had to move to the changing table shelf, so the blankets on the changing table shelf needed to be pared down and either boxed up or put in the sale pile. This brings me to another topic--the high mountain and sea of boxes which is the sale pile. We've been saving all our left-over items from October's adoption fund-raising sale for our planned fund-raising sale in May. I am so thankful for all this "junk" which will hopefully become someone else's treasure come May...which will bring us one step closer to bringing home that wonderful child of ours who is waiting out there--somewhere....but WOW. We have some serious STUFF around here. As I read this, I am chuckling to myself. Indeed even talking about organization has become a rabbit trail of it's own. sigh. Well anyway, I'm REALLY looking forward to sending May's left-overs away!

Here is what I struggle with. I do not want to be ruled by stuff. Stuff takes up my very most valuable resource--time. It takes energy to maintain whatever I allow to clutter up this space of ours. It takes time away from my family which could be used much more resourcefully. Things have to be cleaned. Things have to be maintained. Things have to be organized. Things have to be put away. It is lots of fun to have toys for my children to play with, for example. However, if there are certain toys that are constantly underfoot and I am constantly nagging at little people to pick up, then I am allowing things to rule me. I'm allowing things to dictate my mood and I'm even at times allowing things to affect my dearest relationships. Wow that sounds ugly. Wow that is truth. For the most part, the boys have been trained well in this area, and pick-up well according to their ages. So one of two things needs to occur: an adjustment of my attitude or the said stuff has to go good-bye. If I go into my bedroom to retire for the night, and cannot feel peaceful because there's a stack of junk all over the dresser and the closet is stuffed with I-don't-even-know-what, it has to go. Most of the things that clutter my life I don't even care to have, but just haven't taken the time to remove. (Probably because too much time has been taken up trying to move it out of my way!)

Being a middle-class family living in the USA, we are one of the very richest 10% in the entire world. Interesting how the enemy can use either lack of stuff or over-abundance of stuff to steal peace.

Rest and Reflection

For the past few years, I have tried to let go of more during Christmas time. It's so easy to fill up every day, all day with fun things in celebration of this time. Funny how despite my efforts to pare-down, the season keeps rolling by seemingly faster and faster. There are several traditions that I maintain and absolutely love to do in preparation for Christmas:

Christmas crafts with the boys
Baking cookies with little helpers
Putting up the Nativity scene
Open house Christmas party
Putting up a Christmas tree
Hanging our made-by-Grandma Christmas stockings
Sending out photo cards to loved-ones with a yearly letter

There are also things that have been loved tradition that I've had to be open to letting go if necessary--hanging outdoor lights, caroling, office parties, concerts, volunteer opportunities, and plays, to name a few. It changes from year to year. This was a year, however, when lots of things had to be let go. I've found it's increasingly important to guard my personal time, as well as our family time....all the time...but especially during special holidays. Sometimes this means saying "no" to some of the so-much-fun things, in exchange for some "nothing time". We need "nothing time" to enjoy the wonder and beauty of creation in winter--a clear, starry night, and crisp, fresh air. We need time for quiet reflection of God's gift to us in a little baby over 2000 years ago...to realize afresh that He is with us...to look forward with joyful expectation that He will return! We need time to listen to age-old carols sung by a choir...to enjoy candlelight flickering...to soak up God's Word. As much as I love and enjoy our other family Christmas traditions, we sorely miss out on the entire point if I neglect to schedule "nothing time". It can also become so busy that we are all celebrated out by the time Christmas Day actually arrives! That can be a real downer, and this year, I am working toward not allowing that to happen. I want to be purposeful about what we choose to do....take the time to do those things with the proper, God-ward perspective, and celebrate the season well.

I love this painting. Look at the peace and rest...the reverence....the JOY. Two words blew me away this week: "God's son." I relate well to the concept of a son. Just think of it though--I mean really think about it--

GOD'S SON.

The CREATOR of the universe's SON.
GOD'S SON was given birth that He would save me from death. That was His purpose.
GOD'S SON will return to us. Take a little "nothing time" with me this season and soak that in.

The Halloween Thing

Every year I think on this, and I'm always curious to hear others' thoughts on "the Halloween thing. I hope you all will share a little with me in the form of a comment, about how you see this holiday.

So here's my Halloween history: Growing up, I loved Halloween. I plastered our house windows and doors with cardboard cut-outs of pumpkins, ghosts, goblins, and the like. I'm amazed my dear parents put up with it; it was seriously tacky around there from October 1 to November 1. One year I even fashioned a ghost out of a sheet and hung it in a Pine tree. I loved the spooky music sung in music class, and the homemade haunted houses put up in the local communities. I loved perusing the Halloween aisle at the local dime store (that's what we called it--the "dime store"--ha!)

I loved dressing up and trick-or-treating. We lived outside of town, and so when I was little, Mom would drive my brother and I around the countryside to friends' and relatives' homes to trick-or-treat. We would stay and visit a few minutes with each (or sometimes much longer than a few minutes...or so it felt to an anxious little trick-or-treater!) Every year, I looked forward to our friend Charlotte's homemade popcorn balls, and my Aunt Verlie's big bag of candy (which out of many, many bags of candy, was labeled with my own name.)

When I got a little older, I would stay overnight at a friend's house in town. We could do the traditional, walk-down-the-sidewalk-and-go-door-to-door trick-or-treating. As my classmates and I got older, Halloween evolved into overnights with a gory movie. Others preferred it to be a mischief-making event...and later into an excuse to party (not in a good way.) Kudos to my mom and dad...they kept a pretty good eye on me and I really didn't participate in the Halloween mischief. I would have if I'd had the chance, though, and I remember many who did. They got into all sorts of trouble (if they were the lucky ones who got caught...aka the ones who had people who cared enough about them to catch them.)

During college, for students on-campus, Halloween was all about the dressing up and drinking...house parties and bars. Unhealthy. Scuzzy. Skanky. Not a good thing to be a part of...and as I grew in maturity and became a Christian and grew in my Christian walk, I realized that.

As a young-married, I loved decorating at Halloween time, but stuck to the cute pumpkins and little black kitties. We moved to Alaska, and the decorating charm wore off as my cute little trinkets froze in the ground or whatever. Let's face it--pumpkins and snow just don't really go all that well together.

We had our first baby...and to have my own little dolly to dress up however I wanted was SUCH fun. At 3 months old, Little Wise Bobcat was my own little red chili pepper and he was ADORABLE. We drove him up to visit the grandparents at their cabin. (The year before he was born, I dressed up our dog--yes, our DOG, as a princess and we drove up to their cabin to "trick-or-treat"!) We visited and ate candy. What's not to like about that?!

Baby #2 came along and of course I had to dress up my newest dolly. He was an adorable baby lion and the big bro was a fireman. Adorable. We were invited to a harvest festival at a local church, which had a little hot dog supper and games/prizes for small children. Lots of fun and we did that for the next few years. The only exception was the year we tried a larger festival at the fairgrounds. YUCK. We spent 1/2 the night in notoriously long lines, about 1/4 the night trying to distract our babies from seeing some horrendously gory costumes, and the other 1/4 the night playing games. I was becoming very disenchanted, as I thought about the years to come. Is this something we really wanted to put time and energy into?

Through these years, I have noticed something else. An upping of the ante, you might say. Gone, for the most part, are the "cute" Halloween decorations I used to know as a kid. Marketed in their place, is a whole host of really, really disgusting decor. You know what I'm talking about. Things designed to strike shock and fear in a person. It used to be fun to check out the seasonal aisle. Now I find myself avoiding that area of stores entirely, particularly if I have the children with me, even needing to avoid certain stores for the entire month of October, in some cases.

Jessica, you're going a little overboard here!!!! Maybe I am. But...am I? It is my job to instill and encourage goodness in my children. Do these other things really have any place here if that is my goal? The roots of Halloween are pagan...and dark. Honestly, those things were a draw to me as a kid. I was fascinated by the spooky music, the witches and ghosts, and scary stuff. I know we could ignore those aspects (and we do) and make a big deal out of the dressing up in a good way and the candy and things. However, then we'd be setting the stage for the kids to always expect something to go on during Halloween. There's a progression to it all. Feel good/eat candy/dress up now....but one day they'll be with their fellow teenage friends and having to make a decision on a movie...or they'll be on a college campus and deciding what to do. If Halloween was always a big deal, will they still be expecting it to deliver a thrill? I'm picturing the partying and carousing and wearing of skanky outfits that goes on, all in the name of "good fun." Yuck.

I know that despite Halloween's history, many families do try and participate in the innocent aspects of it--like the dressing up/pretending/eating candy aspects. I'm not diggin' at ya if you do. :) We tried for a few years to wade through it and take the good out of it, leaving the bad. We just found that it took too darn much energy--energy that is precious and in short supply during this season of life. At some point it became apparent that we'd rather put that energy toward other means.

We've spent a few years trying to think of the perfect solution. I admit that some years I sort of lament of how fun it would be to dress my little cuties up and take them trick-or-treating. But, here's the reality: Put energy into costumes...probably money too, but definitely energy. Cover up the costumes with a huge winter coat. Brave the wind and cold and yet more WIND to go--somewhere--where we may or may not see things we'd rather not. Hmmm...no thanks.

We ditched the festivals several years ago. One year we went swimming. That was a fun alternative. We have some fun neighbors who have a hayride every year...and we look forward to that as our big harvest event in lieu of Halloween. Still there's a bit of "what should we do" as we reach the end of the month and the hoopla rises. There are good things to take part in. Do we want to? The answer, for us, has been "no".

So, for the last couple years, this is what October 31 looked like for us. A bowl of candy sat in the kitchen. We never have trick-or-treaters...but you never know...and besides, we like to eat all the left-overs (which usually consist of the entire bowl.) We got all sticky and gooey carving a big pumpkin, roasted and ate yummy pumpkin seeds, and set the pumpkin out on the front porch. We watched It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown over a bowl of popcorn. Before bed, we ran outside in the dark and cold in our jammies to see how pretty our pumpkin looked from the road. How boring! Except it really wasn't. It was a warm, fun evening in together...and we enjoyed it very much!

I wrote the majority of this post LAST YEAR! Here I am on October 31 once again, and here is what our night looked like. We cozily ate our family supper of homemade baked beans and potato soup. Boys cleaned up their toys and put on their jams, and returned to the kitchen table for root beer and the caramel corn we made earlier in the day. Our happy pumpkin, which we carved a couple nights ago, glowed warmly. The front porch light was on, just in case, as we laughed through the classic Great Pumpkin. A pleasant family evening, which they will hopefully remember, but without all the pomp and spook-umstance.

Off the Deep End

We've had some BIG developments with the adoption plans here in Boyland this week. (big breath)

We found out we've been chosen to parent a baby....a caucasion baby....due sometime in June.

Interestingly, this baby will probably look a lot like Tony and I....YES. We just discovered that God has blessed us with a new little person inside! This has been a very wild, unexpected turn of events for us. Some may say after sixteen years of marriage we'd have better control over these things...but really, it's not for us to control. We've always left the option open. This was perfectly orchestrated timing...though not by us.

We're really excited to be, God-willing, welcoming TWO new ones into our family in the near future...

...because we're still following through with our adoption plans...

We're still researching and planning to see more of what our adjusted time-table looks like. We'll be welcoming our little one by birth and settling in before we can follow-through with some of our adoption details. There are still many things that we'll, God-willing, continue with now, before our baby-by-birth arrives. You may ask, "Are we CRAZY?" Do you really need to ask?! We know, however, that this is God's plan for us. He is the dream-giver, and the One who put this into our hearts. We have a child waiting to be born, and a child waiting somewhere in the world for us to come to her. We don't want to miss out, and so, we've closed our eyes, taken a deep breath and jumped off the deep end. It's an invigorating, and sort of scary place to be!

Yesterday, the morning after we found out our big news, I opened up my Max Lucado devotional and here's what the Lord had to say to me:

The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? Psalm 27:1

Jesus says the options are clear. On one side is the voice of safety. You can build a fire in the hearth, stay inside, and stay warm and dry for what you don't try, right? You can't fall if you don't take a stand, right? You can't lose your balance if you never climb, right? So don't try it. Take the safe route.

Or you can hear the voice of adventure--God's adventure. Instead of building a fire in the hearth, build a fire in your heart. Follow God's impulses. Adopt the child. Move overseas. Teach the class. Change careers. Run for office. Make a difference . Sure it isn't safe, but what is? --Max Lucado

We have one shot at this, People. One human life to live, and one legacy to leave. What is it that He is whispering in your heart? What chance is it He's asking you to take? Let's not miss out on a single adventure or blessing He has for us.