No, Look This Way, Brother

Before He Leaves

She rises up 

as morning breaks

She moves among these rooms alone 

Before we wake

And her heart is so full

It overflows

She waters us with love

And the children grow

So many years from now

Long after we are gone

These trees will spread their branches out

And bless the dawn.

~Andrew Peterson, "Planting Trees"

******

I wasn't listening very well when older and wiser Mamas shared how hard the leaving would be. Perhaps as in so many cases, I thought I'd be the exception, or perhaps I simply didn't know how quickly my time would come.

His fingerprints disappeared from our walls a long time ago, and as I write this, I have approximately 63 days left with Ink. He'll start a new chapter of his life, in a different state, with beloved friends of ours. God-willing, he'll return for one last Thanksgiving and then pack up his belongings and move to the place where he'll set up his own first home.

I have a countdown clock on my computer and an ever-growing to-do list. Now, don't think me morbid; these are simply tools to help me redeem the time.

A few of the things to do before he leaves?

1) Bake more fruity snacks--pies, muffins, scones.
2) Purchase fine stationery to write him letters while he's away.
3) Take one last family picture with him.
4) Have him inscribe all of the books he's given me.
5) Send a list of his favorite things to the dear family who will be spoiling  hosting him.
6) Buy a photo album and fill it with pictures of us.
7) Watch as many movies as he wants me to over the next couple of months.
8) Snatch as many hugs as he'll let me over the next couple of months.
9) Make his favorite meals, such as seafood chowder, barbecue ribs, stuffed peppers.
10) Schedule dental cleaning.
11) Focus on any last-minute life skills.
12) Measure his height on the door jamb one last time.
13) Take a picture of him standing next to the tree we planted for him in our front yard.
14) Have his siblings write love notes to him.
15) Make a list of care package items to send him.
16) Take one last family trip together.

Samuel Johnson said, "Value is more frequently raised by scarcity than by use. That which lay neglected when it was common, rises in estimation as its quantity becomes less. We seldom learn the true want of what we have till it is discovered that we can have no more. ... There are few things, not purely evil, of which we can say, without some emotion of uneasiness: This is the last." 

How happy we are for Ink, as God has answered our prayers abundantly, in ways we could not have imagined. The leaving is on good terms and is for the embracing of good things. And yet, my heart thinks much about the "lasts" of these days, and how the leaving of one family member shifts the entire dynamic of our daily living.

As I was making my list, I was deeply grateful that there were some things I didn't need to add. These are the things that God, in his grace, has kept me doing over these past 18 years. I don't have to scramble to teach Ink about God or the Bible or the Gospel or walking in wisdom's way. I don't have to teach him to work out his salvation with fear and trembling or give thanks to God for His mercies or to repent and forgive. No doubt, we're always growing in these areas, and Ink will be challenged and afflicted as the Holy Spirit faithfully makes him more like Jesus, and there are certainly things I wish we could do over as his parents, BUT, the foundation has been laid.

Don't give up, my fellow Mamas. It's so easy to forget about eternity and live only for now. But one day you will reap the beautiful fruit of faithfulness and obedience or the rotten fruit of a life lived unto Self instead of unto Him. And though nothing is impossible with God, and He brings the prodigals home, why not be the best steward this very day and the next and the next, of these precious souls He's given you, praying that when the leaving comes, it comes with joy and thanksgiving.

With love,
Trisha

Celebrate the Small Things

We often take for granted the warm body sleeping beside us, 

the quiet, uneventful evening, or the too quickly passed cacophonous ones

 if we're in the season of life known as the child rearing years. 

Take time to celebrate the small things that make us fall in love, 

and stay in love, and weave us strongly together.

~Dr. George Grant

Big and Little

Can you guess the unexpected bonus in this picture?

C'mon. Look carefully.

The socks! The socks!

Sarge has matching socks!

He Was Made to Leave

"Permit to us who pass from one state to another something of the 

pathos that is to be permitted to those that approach to death. 

We are happy to go into the country, but we are unhappy to leave the town."

~G. K. Chesterton

*****

Welcomed into this world, he hears your voice, and he knows you. You. You're his World. His eyes fix fast on you. You're his Center, and no one else will do. You comfort him, feed him, care for him, pray for him, correct him, teach him, and smother him with hugs and kisses.

And in return he gives you smiles and a joy unspeakable. He brings you flowers and weeds picked with dirty chubby fingers. He paints you pictures, and says, "I love you, Mommy," at least twenty times a day. He gives you dirt and bugs and slamming doors and empty glasses of chocolate milk and grace-filled prayers at the dinner table.

And you don't think much about the truth that he was made to leave.

He convinces you that couches are meant to be trampolines, Legos are meant to be stepped on, and everything his hands touch can be fashioned into a gun. He teaches you that milk and cookies are the way to a boy's heart, that and welcoming his rock collection and his pet lizards and excusing the prints he just made on your newly mopped floor.

And as he grows bigger, not only does he open your door, but he continues to open your eyes and your heart to good things, new music, new books, a different way of seeing the world, different, but still grounded in God's truth. You no longer tuck him in, but instead savor late night conversations and smile at his midnight pantry raids.

His pleas to tie his shoes or help put on his coat are long gone, and now he requests  his favorite soup and lets you know you should make pie more often, and "By the way, Mom, you should really read this book, and did you know...?"

It seems like just a moment ago you were scolding him for breaking a treasured tea cup, one you can't even remember well anymore, and you were fixing up a skinned knee and telling him Jesus loves him most of all and teaching him how to read, and now you see a man, and you get choked up because you can't stop thinking about the truth that he was made to leave.

You say it's because you love him so much that you want him to stay, but your heart knows the selfishness of that lie. It's not in holding on but in letting go that you honor what God has made him to do. No longer his Center, you feel a bit lost and wonder where to go, what to do, and you see your place over there, off-stage, to watch this new chapter in his life unfold, to cheer him on, to cover him in prayer.

So you step aside, your heart torn between rejoicing in the man God has made him and wanting just a few more moments of his boyhood (you'd gladly welcome plastic army men scattered everywhere and loud noises and entertain a million interruptions). You pray for wisdom, wisdom to not try to grasp what is no longer yours, wisdom to not try to shove your way back onto center stage, wisdom to repent, wisdom to know your place, wisdom to live out this new chapter for God's glory.

For your heart knows well that your boy, the boy who is now a man, was made to leave, and you love him best by letting go.

With love,
Trisha


***Kudos to the moms who have seamlessly made this transition, no repenting necessary, no struggles and wrestling. But maybe there's one other mom out there like I am. Here's a bit of self talk for us. :)

Time is a Game

Time is a game played beautifully by children.

~Heraclitus, Fragments

Praising God for the beautiful ways children teach us how to wisely measure our days.

With love,
Trisha

Beautiful Thirteen

  (courtesy of resident sign-maker, Luke)

Happy 13th birthday to our dear Emma! 

Ta-Dah!

Emma finished the afghan she's been making for my Mom (her MeMaw)! We're so proud of her! Isn't it a beautiful stitch? We're especially grateful to our friend and neighbor who is such a patient and generous teacher and has helped Emma every step of the way.

A Bit of a Mom Brag and Why Men Should Read Fiction

My Corey has written a delightful piece for The Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood. I'm so proud of him!

"I have no quarrel with non-fiction. I love reading about history and theology and philosophy and culture. I love Paul Johnson and John Calvin and Aristotle and Ken Myers. What I do not love is a reading pile that makes no room for stories about magic rings and an Earth that isn’t quite Above and isn’t quite Below but is very comfortably in the Middle. If you have no use for Elfland (as Chesterton calls it), do not take it as a reflection of your mighty intelligence; take it as a reflection of your lack thereof. Real men step into Elfland and become as children again, and they are better men for it."

You can read the rest here: Casting Out Pearls: Men and Reading Fiction

Decisions, Decisions~A Pictorial

***No children or books or chocolate were hurt during the 45 seconds that this event took place. No staging or coaxing were required, as this is the natural behavior of babies from chocolate-hoarding-book-loving families.

No, It's Me

While shuffling through some papers on our dining room table ( I do that a lot, always defying that "only handle a piece of paper once" advice), I came across this adorable drawing.

Me: Jedediah, did you draw this?

Jedediah, with a sheepish grin: Yeess.

Me: He's so cute! What's his name?

Jedediah: Jedediah

Me: Oh, so it's a self-portrait.

Jedediah: No, it's me.

One Year Ago Today

One year ago today, God graciously brought Elijah Henry into the world. There's a whole lot of happy going on around here today as we celebrate ONE.

(No, he's not walking, yet--but he's working on it.

 And I'm fine if he takes his sweet time.)

Anatomy of a Large Family's Read Aloud Time

Pick a time.

Announce it to everyone.

Begin thirty minutes late because  you got distracted washing the dishes and putting another load of laundry in and dressing your daughter's baby in doll clothes.

Let everyone gather their coloring pages, pencils, or Legos to use while listening to the reading.

Begin.

Hear toddler cry for juice.  Ask her buddy to please get her some.

Begin again.

Read for about 15 minutes.  Then, have daughter tell you baby needs a diaper change.

Tell everyone you'll be right back. 

Change diaper.  Watch baby boy pee all over comforter unexpectedly (really, Mama-to-quite-a-few-boys, you should expect that...)  Strip bed and put comforter in the wash.

Tell everyone to settle down.

Begin again.

Admonish two children for fighting.  Tell them to stop provoking one another.  "Keep your hands to yourself."   "Do unto others as you'd want done to you."

Ask another child, "Are you listening?"

Try again.

Hear howling scream from one son.  "What happened?"  Mediate.  Discipline.  Sigh and wonder how long you've actually been READING.

Feel toddler girl lay her head on your lap.  Hug her back.

Look for your place again.

Start reading.

Realize 3 year old is missing.  "Where's _________?"  Send her buddy to look for her.

Start again.

Hear everyone laugh at the passage or make commentary on the author's worldview.  Follow rabbit trails.  Calm everyone down, and get back to the line you were on.

Notice toddler has a permanent marker.  "Where did she get that?"  "Get it from her quick!"

Hear phone ring.  It's Daddy.  He'll be home in about an hour and a half.  Think of dinner and how much time you need to get it done.  Remember the clothes wrinkling in the dryer. 

Find your spot, and try again.

Smile as you notice little daughter trying to help her sister with a toy.

Read for a bit more.

Exhort another child to use his words for building up, not tearing down.

Fight discouragement as you tell yourself, "Why bother?"

Remind yourself that great things are done little by little, even with an interruption here and an interruption there. 

Laugh at yourself.  Treasure the blessing of so many children around you who really are enjoying the book you're reading. 

Remember that an hour of uninterrupted read aloud time with total silence is very overrated.  Would I really want that? (Well....move to the next thought.)

Remember where you need to discipline more.  Remember how you need to lighten up.

Remember not to grow weary in doing good.  And this time together, interruptions, frustrations, and all, is very GOOD.

End with a big smile on your face.  Close the book, and try again tomorrow. 

Thank the LORD that you're such a rich woman.

The End. :)

***originally posted at my A Multitude of Mercies blog

Blessed is the Mama

Blessed is the Mama who remembers well that there are some things a baby must do for himself. 

And just to be clear, Sarge was crying FOR my spaghetti, not because of it. :)

She's A Natural