It's been one of those days. One of those gloriously plain, ordinary days. The morning started with me and Zae hanging out together, making breakfast, and then reading and discussing a book together. Eventually Zeke, Eli, and Israel, (who didn't have school because of the Fasching Holiday), meandered into the kitchen where they served themselves a bowl of just-warm Cream of Wheat.


We entered the day slowly. We stayed in the kitchen a long time, laughing, joking with one another, sharing stories. After a long while we cleaned up the kitchen and then sat down for a bit of homeschool studies. The children were sweet. Peaceful. There was no rush.


And that is the way our day proceeded. Little bits of this and then meandering into that. Lunch. Then math. I quietly giggled to myself at the conversation I eavesdropped on.


Zae: You don't know how to do that yet. You're too little.


Israel: Well, I'm not a mom yet. That's why. When I'm a mom, then I'll know everything.


Zae: (with passion) Oh no you won't! Adults don't know everything. And Mom reallllllly doesn't know everything! Farrrrr from it!


Israel paused, taking in that bit of information.


Israel: Mom? Is that true?


Zae and Israel are both looking at me now. They're waiting. The latter with bated breath, the former for the confirmation of truth.


Me: Yes, Israel. Zae's right. I sure do have a lot to learn and a lot of growing up to do.


Israel: Hm. (She looks back down at the math paper she's working on.) Wow.


smile. At some point in the afternoon, the children ask if they can take a break. I sit at the dining room table and work on a project while I listen to their conversation. "I'm the banker." "Okay, here's $500 for you." "I'll buy it." "Ohhhh! I landed on your property. How much do I owe you, Zeke?" And on it goes. For awhile. At some point Zae loses interest. And then Zeke follows suit.

They climb the walls.
Challenging themselves...
to see how high they can climb...
to see if they can reach the top...
hold themselves in a pose... with no hands...
to show off a bit...
to test their strength...
and then challenge each other...
to see who can go the highest...
and, of course, Rae gets into the action, too.

Hm. I condone this monkey-ish behavior, positive my friends would be perfectly horrified. But there's this part of me that watches them and knows it won't last long. Already, my Eli, athletic and strong in every sense, has outgrown the ability to scale these walls. I snap pictures, encouraging them, "Okay, hold it right there." Click, "Good job! Man! You are so strong!"


Later, we leave the house to run errands. On the way we see a flock of geese flying east in a 'V.' We pull over and watch until they are out of sight. On Base I leave the children on the playground while I grocery shop... knowing LeRoy will pick them up in 15 minutes and Eli can handle it in the interim. I stroll the aisles for the seven items. Slowly. My mind wanders. And on the way home, it dawns on me how extraordinary our day has been. How beautiful. Peaceful.


I am overcome with gratitude for "small days." Small moments. Ordinary moments filled with extraordinary joy.


Thank You, Jesus.

Meerfelder Maar

~ January 28, 2009 ~

Prescription for Cabin Fever: A long walk in the fresh air.

Take 1 group of grumpy kiddos, load them in the van, and drive 15 minutes Northeast.

Give them the rules.

Release.

Two tired mamas happy to be in the fresh air...

with the sounds of cheerful children

running off pent-up energy.

Just a little over an hour before the dads are scheduled to return home from work.

Setting sun.

"Listen guys! If we walk quickly... and don't get distracted...

we'll finish our walk in..."

Claudine is looking at me --

skeptical.

"Listen," I continue, "I bet we can walk around this lake in...

40 minutes!"

Claudine glances at her watch.

She smiles that gorgeous smile at me --

the one that communicates so much.

This time its you really think we can do it?

I feel confident.

That we'll try.

But then,

I'm distracted.

It seems God has written a poem

just for me today.

I don't want to miss it.

Nearby a songbird calls.

The children's sweet voices,

"Hey! Look at this guys!"

Feet running.

"Ohhh, cool! Will you help me find one?"

Now they are all searching for the

perfect stick.

Someone throws a rock

onto the frozen lake,

the hollow ka-frunk and ensuing

froooosh, as it slides across

the ice.

Patches of ice off the beaten path

lure the children.

Except for Eva -- Claudine's daughter,

who walks a steady, determined

pace.

I attempt to focus,

not be so distracted.

Walking on ice.

The delicate squeak,

precarious creak,

victorious giggles

at the final crunch,

as feet scramble

away from the

water seeping

up from the crack.

Bright eyes.

Rosy cheeks.

(Hat knitted by Eva!)

Everything is clean, crisp.

Everyone is

content.

The children's laughter,

background music

for God's poetry.

Uninhibited.

Full of ideas.

Curious.

How very much

I have to learn!

They are my gurus

of play.

Claudine & I.

(I love you, Sister!)

Eli & Israel.

End of the walk.

Not quite 40 minutes.

More like 70.

smile.

Back at the van,

open the "emergency"

snack bucket.

Ahhhh!

Life is sweet!

(No more grumpies...)

Yeah, God!

On the way home,

we stop for one last picture,

of God's

signature

across His poem.

*** These pictures were taken just north of Manderscheid, at the volcanic crater lake of Meerfelder Maar, about 15 minutes Northeast from our house. This is one of our favorite walks.