Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts

Sunday, January 13, 2019

December Money Experiment, Season 1, Final Episode



“Your feedback on our December Money Experiment?”

It’s a rare occasion to have all six of us home at the same time. A quick glance at the family calendar provides a sense of urgency. I have less than twenty minutes for a team meeting. Now, huddled in the living room of our extra-large tiny townhouse, we’re asking those timeless questions, what worked, what didn’t? Asking, what might we do different?  

“Mom, our house is just kind of a crash pad right now.” Ezekiel’s eyes hold mine. I process his metaphor.

Later, I would look up the definition of crash pad… 1. informal – a place to sleep, especially for a single night or in an emergency. 2. a thick piece of shock-absorbing material for the protection of the occupants of an aircraft cockpit or motor vehicle. Also, for a gymnast or for boulder climbing.

This season of transition, the launching of ideas, work, goals, projects.

This experiment stripped the fluff and superfluous. In exchange for an overflowing pantry and refrigerator, we received the gift of insight.

There it was.

All our desires. Laid out bare.

Bare necessities, yes. Like food. Sure.

I’m curious, though… can a basic need like food cause the dreaded onset of …complacency? Maybe?

The first ten days or so landed nothing short of victorious. Working within parameters stirred my creativity and imagination, resulting in delicious culinary creations. The atmosphere went from tense and worrisome to hey, this might be fun after all.

Until the only items left on the pantry shelves were a bag of flax seed, white wine vinegar and yellow corn meal. Half a box of pasta and a bag of “Glorious Gluten-free Cookies” from Christ Kitchen faced one another in their private arena, their incongruence begging the question, What is the intention?

The challenge was to live on a grocery budget of $200 for a month with a family of six. That comes out to roughly $6.45 a day for December. Only ten days in and we had already spent $96.09.
Three dollars and sixteen cents a day more than the allotment.

Worry crept back in at the edges. The refrigerator door made a hollow fmp when closed. Instead of bold, faith-filled declarations, a few team members fretted, we might starve.

And, you know that question… What will you be famous for? Well, in our family, something I’m (in)famous for is “turning everything into a life lesson.” Yes, well, eh-hem… about that. Funny how a gnawing in an empty stomach can make space to consider the deepest desires of the heart. 

The stark reminder that we’re spiritual beings having a physical experience.

And the life-giving truths, metaphorically chewing on them, Delight yourself also in the Lord…* Then Matthew’s exhortation, But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness...**

Whispered reflection, what do I want most? What does my heart long for? Heh. I glance over at my vision board where there in the lower right-hand corner it reads …a gourmet chef’s kitchen and a team of world class chefs. They live on the premises and prepare healthy meals for all meals every day of the week. Ah! A small taste (excuse the pun) of heaven in all this grocery-budgeting, ingredient-improvising and recipe-innovating.

So, there’s the vision, the goal (at least for the kitchen)… and in the meantime… in the present…

{long smile} “Do not fret – it only causes harm.”*** And, “Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”**** Well, yes, about that, too.

Instead of fretting, instead of getting carried away by tomorrow’s unknowns, I wonder…

…how simple, how amazing if…

What if, I wanted to know more of God’s heart… you know, the way I want food? What if we longed to be filled with more of God’s Spirit, the way we hunger for savory succulence hot out of the oven? What if we decided to be wholly satisfied with the sustenance found in the Sustainer of our days? 

What if, we leveraged our physical longings as a nudging reminder of our soul’s deeper longing?

What if, we followed the example of the psalmist, the wholehearted declaration, One thing I have desired of the Lord, that will I seek: That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in His temple. (Psalm 27:4) Yes, that… to encounter His presence… in “the premises” of my heart and soul… an ongoing communion…

Last week I read The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis. There’s a part where Screwtape, a demon on a mission to ruin a man’s soul, writes to his nephew regarding gluttony, “But what do quantities matter, provided we can use a human belly and palate to produce querulousness, impatience, uncharitableness, and self-concern?” Yes, there. Not the quantity, just the mere appetite.

Funny how something as fundamental as food presented possible epiphanies. How it shook up the complacent areas and caused me to consider this foodstuff on a soul-deep level.

Of course, I only pondered this all in my own heart as I looked at the five pairs of eyes looking back at me during this team debrief. Yes, the crash pad metaphor. Back to that. I especially like the second meaning, “a thick piece of shock-absorbing material for the protection of the occupants…”

{hold the wheel, that’s right, hold the wheel as we continue round this corner} This curve in the road with grown children finding their way, all of us – us parents included – stepping out into new endeavors, the faith-filled, bold declaration: I will behold the beauty of the Lord, to delight myself in Him, to seek first His kingdom and His righteousness. To lean into the transition, the new rhythm.

To execute on an idea. To take on fulfilling work. To achieve a goal, and then another, and another. To challenge ourselves, stretch out of our comfort zone and pursue projects that build a legacy of impact, changing the world around us for the better.

What if those are simply the fruit of utilizing our appetites, cravings, hunger pangs – whatever you call them – to lay bare the deepest longings of our soul? And to know Spirit absorbs the shock of our disappointments, impatience, frustrations, and setbacks.

So, we didn’t exactly work out all the kinks and fumbles in this experiment. And we didn’t succeed in the $200 challenge. The receipts from December 1st through the 28th document $235.80. Then, for some reason, on the 28th, we ended the experiment… the receipts totaling $307.86 through the 31st of the month. whelp. 

Based on the numbers, the experiment failed. Yet, the insights gained are priceless.

“So how do we make this a strategic, functional, effective crash pad, not just to meet physical needs, but for soul-care, too?”

The next fifteen minutes or so, we brainstorm ideas, possibilities. We establish a few outcomes from the experiment that will inform our next steps. For example, this new season in our family creates an atmosphere that more closely resembles a fraternity/sorority house of creatives and innovators than anything we’ve had before. Rarely is there more than one or two people home at the same time. 

Based on what we learned, we'll continue to look for ways to practice frugality. 

We'll give each other grace and space as we're all entering and exiting the revolving door of our home. 

We'll support one another in our goals and ambitions.

We'll continue to look for ways to create a culture of honor both here and everywhere we show up. One way we'll do this is to check in with one another, "How is it going for you? Is there anything I can do to honor and bless you?"  

We'll up the ante when it comes to praying for and with one another. (Something we've allowed to fall by the wayside.) 

We'll continue to seize moments to laugh together and serve together. And, ohmyheart... the ongoing, life-giving conversations around here! Yes, those. Whether a few minutes or a couple of hours, we'll definitely continue those conversations. 

What about you? Where can you challenge yourself? In what area might you create an experiment that could help you and your team create an environment that's aligned with who you are and who you want to become? 

*Psalm 37:4
**Matthew 6:33
***Psalm 37:8
****Matthew 6:34


Counting blessings…

303. All this, written while my family is a swirl of activity around me, making the traditional requested breakfast for Ezekiel on this, his 20th birthday. French toast, scrambled eggs with sausage, and orange juice. Small tastes of heaven.

304. A new job for me! A continuation of my life’s work and passion: investing in and coaching families! Woohoohoo!! Thank You, Jesus!

305. A husband and grown children who are all stepping out in faith and pursuing God-sized dreams.

306. Difficult conversations and the ensuing decision to reign in ego, ask questions, listen, clarify and validate, share authentically, listen more. The resulting intimacy.

307. The glorious and exciting news of a friend’s outrageous success on a project.

308. An evening spent in the company of matriarchs who have loved, coached, mentored and invested in me for over twenty-one years.

309. A book that’s hung out at the top of my “To Read List” for way too many years, finally finished. And the 5+ pages of single-spaced, type-written notes from The Screwtape Letters which has given me plenty of fodder for future conversational musings.

310. A whole weekend to read and study Ruby K. Payne’s Doctoral Thesis, A Framework for Understanding Poverty.

311. An afternoon and evening with Aunt Kathy and Uncle Jake, (Grandma and Grandpa to our children), engaging in deep conversation, bouncing around ideas, seeking solutions to challenges. Aunt Kathy makes a lasagna dinner with all the sides and then we wile away the rest of the evening playing a game and laughing until we find ourselves reigning each other back in for the next round. LeRoy and Uncle Jake bond over the NFL game on television.

312. The anticipation of the week ahead.

313. All six of us home this morning for Ezekiel’s Birthday Breakfast. And again, this evening for his Birthday Dinner. Annnnd, in the interim, the opportunity for Ezekiel to go skiing with Eli and Israel. For LeRoy and Isaiah to hang out together and watch the NFL game at Uncle Jake’s and Aunt Kathy’s house. For a few hours of quiet space for myself.

Saturday, December 24, 2016

Meet One of My Coaches

This business of serving and leading those in our sphere of influence . . .it's not for the faint of heart.


"We're in the middle of a corporate restructuring and I sure would love it if a professional consultant or coach would come to our headquarters to help us." I said it completely serious, our friends knowing that by "corporate" I mean our family and "restructuring" means, we're going through a season of transition. But when I say, "...a professional consultant or coach," I mean exactly a professional consultant or coach. 

I think he was half-joking, but Mark chuckled and raised his hand, "I'll do it." I looked across the room at him.

"You're on."

*Side note: He's 11-years old.

After Life Group, he and I stood in the kitchen, looking at my calendar. His mom stood off to the side as he glanced up at the ceiling as though his schedule hung there, invisible to everyone but him. 

"I believe Wednesday at 1:00 will work." His eyes met mine and then we both glanced over at his mom for affirmation. Yes, 1:00 then.

On Wednesday, one of my board members, (my son, Ezekiel), and I knocked on the door of their temporary lodging facilities, the short-term apartments for families about to re-locate to another military base. His parents apologized for not being able to stay, "We just have so many errands to run and last-minute preparations to make . . ." She hugged me and closed the door behind her. 

"Have a seat," Mark gestured toward the sparse furnishings. "So, tell me what you're working on." He sat across from us on a swivel recliner and watched as I took a notebook and pen from my bag.

Over the course of the next 90 minutes, Mark asked brilliant questions, challenged me to dig deep, discover underlying motives, prioritize, break down goals into doable action steps, and even helped me come up with a "stop doing" list. He brainstormed game-changing ideas with me. He listened. 

In fact, he didn't really talk much at all except for the questions he asked me. Sometimes, I rambled. (That might be an understatement.) And still, he was able to take my ramblings, form a concise, coherent summary, and use it to lead the conversation forward with another intelligent question.

The meeting was professional and effective. In fact, I credit that coaching session for the breakthrough in our family over the next couple of days.

Takeaway: Are you training your employees, supervisors, children, colleagues, teammates . . . to lead through coaching? 

Are you cultivating a culture that values listening, asking great questions, and engaging in meaningful conversations? 

The value of a coach cannot be overstated. If you have goals, make sure you also have someone to hold you accountable, challenge you, brainstorm ideas with, and leverage strategic and actionable problem solving techniques. 


**Mark's mom is a co-founder and Management Consultant at Overt Resolutions Group helping companies with conflict resolution and strategic problem solving. 

See where Mark gets his influence and training? ;) 

Friday, February 26, 2010

Untitled

Africa. Spills off my tongue. Third syllable punctuates flight confirmations. Paradigms flash across mental screen. Concepts I'm familiar with from worlds away. Acquainted through pictures, blogs, books, movies, stories. Acquainted in the comfort and safety of my bubble world.


I have no name for this. Naive. Curious. Broken -- but not really. How can I know if I'm really broken? Vague. Stories without sensory experience.


This mama's dreams for her children coming true: That their faith experience would echo the words of C.S. Lewis, "Course' he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you." (Chapter 8, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe)


A jumble of anticipation, fear, excitement. Change my heart. Help me see with new spiritual eyesight. What do you see when you look on humanity? What did you experience when you exchanged Heaven's perfection for physical depravity? What does "has no place to lay His head" mean exactly? Rock this family's world and never let us be the same.



Six weeks until departure. Malawi.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Tidbits

What they said this past week:


Zae: Everything takes at least an hour in this family! (In response to the mention that an upcoming activity would probably take about an hour.)


Zeke: Mom, thanks for starving me! I think it really worked and I learned a lot! (After being sent to bed without dinner twice in one week for not following through with responsibilities.)


Eli: He's wordy... kinda like you, Mom. (Upon the third day of reading through the Book of Luke, a chapter at a time, as a family -- and realizing how loooong Luke's chapters are.)


Israel: When I was a baby, I never knew I could have a great mom like you. (This, after receiving a discipline for disrespect. Hey! At this rate, I might have this parenting thing down by the time I'm a grandma!)


Ever grateful for His endless grace!

Sunday, December 6, 2009

OKLAHOMA

A few weeks ago, LeRoy and I were having a conversation at the dinner table about where we should go to celebrate our upcoming wedding anniversary.





Israel got on her knees, making herself taller, and leaned in. "I know where you should go!" We turned to her. And then with all the enthusiasm and beautiful innocence that this 8-year old exhibits, she said, "You should go to Oklahoma!"





Wha? (Oh my Sweet Darlin... whatever made her think of Oklahoma?)

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

My Inflated Ego

Israel: Mom, I know what I want to dress up as for halloween.

Me: (raised eyebrows since I'm always a little traumatized at halloween and still haven't figured out how to get through it with charm and grace) Oh yeah?

Israel: I'm going to dress up as a mommy.

Me: (long, adoring sigh... feeling totally encouraged that my daughter would admire me so much that she'd want to dress up as... Me!) Oh, Israel! How sweet!

Israel: (looking slightly confused) Well, I want to be a mommy so that I can scare everyone!

Me: (hearing the record needle slide off the record) Um... (then me, Zae, and Zeke are doubled over in laughter as I simultaneously try to salvage some of my ego...) Are you implying that mommies are scary?

Israel: (eyes watering up, more confused than ever, wondering what in the world is so funny) What?

This is when it suddenly occurs to me, mummy, not mommy! Oh, goodness! I stifle the giggles momentarily to explain, wait for her to catch on, her smile slowly graces her lips, and then, oh the grace in being able to laugh at ourselves.

That the Lord would bless me with more and more of these merciful moments in which I get a glimpse of just how inflated my ego really is!

A mommy... so I can scare everyone. Really.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Untitled

Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, I recall a poem, In Flanders Fields. These tidbits that got stored in a cortical lobe sometime in the last 37 years, tidbits that mental fingers flip through looking for appropriate tab to match with in-this-moment-experience. How we set out on these small adventures with only vague ideas, varying schemas, of what's ahead. Six of us putting in our two cents. Anticipation rising.


We're in Chievres, Belgium, this weekend. Our Bitburg Barons won victoriously over the SHAPE Spartans in the football game yesterday.


Flanders Fields... I doubt my children have ever heard of Flanders Fields before. Together we'll set out today. I'm filled with questions. Questions I'll ask out loud to young ones who I hope will join me in the wondering about...


We'll visit the In Flanders Fields Museum in Ypres (pronounced Ee-pree). I hope to fill in more on the page of that file... To pique my children's curiosity...


I can still hear the words -- as if it were yesterday -- of a dear friend and mentor, (Penny K.), "Expose your children to as many different experiences as you can..."


Good idea.


Wrapped in His grace...

Sunday, October 4, 2009

ROTC, Recorders, Rennaissance & Reformation

"Eli, stand there while I take your picture."

"Aw, Mom! Please! I'm so sure!"

All family members press in, gawk, compliment. Eli's so... what? It's hard to read. He puts up a big fuss over our fussing over him. There's much laughter. Light-hearted. We're gushing, really.

ROTC. This warrior boy man of mine who talks of becoming a Navy Seal one day. This one who dreams of daring rescues, his convictions and empathy driving desires to end injustice.

We walk him and his sister to the door, I deliver a quick momma hug, and pray a prayer of blessing over them before they walk to the bus stop. Then, as he reaches the rock wall at the edge of the yard, he turns and waves, and I hear him yell over his shoulder, "Thanks, Family. I love you." (Now I know how to read it. At least I'm pretty sure...)


My little one who daily displays signs of becoming a little lady. How she loves to talk! If only I could attach a microphone to her, to record all the adorable things she says in a day, all the dreams she has, the expectations. "I'm going to marry someone like Charles Ingalls." She rests her chin in the palm of her hand, resolved. Her big brown eyes, filled with confidence. "He's going to build me a log cabin. You remember where, right Ma?" Yes, I nod. She points it out each time we go by. The pond at the edge of the village of Grosslittgen. "I mean, I'll help, too. But I have to take care of the chickens and do so much other work, too."


She takes my cheeks in between her hands, nearly touches her nose to mine, "And we'll make our own ice cream! And I'll learn to play the fiddle!"


This lovely little lady who practices here and there all day long on playing her recorder. "Am I getting it, Mommy? Does it sound like the song?" I ponder whether I should tell her or not that I don't know the song, exactly. But then she settles it for me, the notes, almost familiar, sweet and then squeaky.
"It sounds wonderful, Israel! Play it again!" And I mean it. My delight is not diminished when a brother walks by, compliments her out loud, and then under his breath but so that I can hear, says that it sounds like a dying moose. My glare doesn't cause him to recant -- he simply leaves the room with a backward glance, eyes dancing with mischief.


She sits tall and straight, moves her fingers on the notes, puckers her lips carefully. This one who tells me as we pass by eyesores like nuclear energy plants, "Look, Ma! It's a cloud factory!"

"Lord, make us seriously disturbed!" Me and the two boys, Zae and Zeke, snuggle up on the couch as we read the book by Kay Warren, Dangerous Surrender, ending the chapter with this request to be forever changed, forever ruined, by the reality of other's pain. The prayer to increase our desire for our ripple to mean something in someone else's life.


We peruse the artwork of Albrecht DĂ¼rer, make a note to visit the house he lived in in Nuremberg, Germany. Isaiah stops on a page, studies it for a long time, lost in thought, his stillness speaks of an idea.


We read a biography of Michelangelo, our reminisces indulging in the moment we stood looking up at the Sistine Chapel ceiling. We are in awe all over again. Likewise when we read about the carving of The Pieta. Later, I would look back and realize our conversations returned to this life story here and there over the next several days. The boys compile their notes and write a summary of Michelangelo Buonarroti, handwriting documenting insights gleaned.



Next, we read about the boy, who at the age of 13, read all the books in his father's library and then waited impatiently while the manuscripts of more books were copied one tedious letter at a time by ink and quill. We engross ourselves in this story of how the printing press came to be. How Johannes Gutenberg had this idea for an invention and then spent his life persistently investing all he had, sacrificing everything, to make the dream a reality.



Gutenberg's first book printed on the press was the Bible because he believed it was the most important book. The boys and I stop to converse about this. Make another mental note to visit Gutenberg's hometown of Mainz, Germany... and perhaps find his workshop in Strasbourg, France.


These stories affect me, touch me. Change me. I pursue conversation with the boys. Ask questions. Wonder what they are taking away from all this... exactly...


Isaiah yawns, sleepily says, "He was perSIStent."



Ezekiel adds, "Yeah, he was deTERmined!"


I think that reading a story of so much longsuffering, heroic stick-to-it-ivness has exhausted us. We're still snuggled on the couch and I entertain the thought of dozing off with the boys and then while contemplating, we fall asleep.
Raphael. Shakespeare. Isaac Newton.


History and the shaping of now. Recording it all in our schema for tomorrow's interpretations.



This appreciation for art. For the story.


To seek and understand the heart of God better.


We begin each day with prayer and (for this particular study) Psalm 145.


Conversations about the roots of humanism, superstition, the evolution of the sciences, the religiosity of a people fearful of losing their soul to eternal damnation. Studying stories of Galileo Galilei, Leonardo da Vinci, and Martin Luther.
The library allows us to check out 50 books at a time. And so we do. We add a couple of Shakespeare DVDs in the pile: Macbeth and Taming of the Shrew.


And somewhere in the day, we add in a lesson on rhetoric, logic, and debate. This critical thinking that will make all the learning we're doing more interesting.





For a while we read about the history of Italy, the birthplace of the Rennaissance. Ezekiel and I take turns reading while Isaiah works on a project. After a long while he proudly holds up his masterpiece -- a copy of Albrecht DĂ¼rer's Praying Hands.



And all our dreams, hopes, plans, passions, activities, thoughts, ideas, learning... All of it... May it all be turned back to praise of the One Who graciously, mercifully gives all these abundant gifts to us out of His abundant goodness.


That every day will I bless Thee; and I will praise Thy name for ever and ever. (Psalm 145:2)








Saturday, September 26, 2009

Football, Part I

So begins this new chapter in our lives. I suspected this was our path when Eli kicked, squirmed, and back-flipped in utero. At six months when he first sat up, he threw a mean pitch. And he's excelled at every athletic endeavor since. Please forgive me as I proudly brag on the boy for the next few months. (Oh, who am I kidding? For the next whole-bunch-of-years until his children take center stage and I turn the spotlight on my no-doubt-adorable grandchildren! smile.) Seriously, though, this boy has the most competitive spirit of anyone I've ever known. He plays for fun. But put him in the game, and his passion is unleashed.

Eli is #14. And that's his friend, Alex, #76.


Did I ever tell you that he was awarded "Athlete of the Year" in 2007? {proud mama smile & nod}

Zae, who lives, breathes, and sleeps football -- studies the plays, reads the biographies of players, and has heroes like Tim Tebow -- is one of Eli's biggest fans.

The Dads.
A friendly wrestling match while waiting for Eli to change. (Don't feel bad for Zeke. If I'd been 15 seconds earlier with the camera, you'd felt for Zae!)

That was the first game, Sep. 12th, played at "home" against a German high school. Bitburg Barons won.

Then it was on to Ansbach, Germany, to go against the undefeated Cougars, on Sep. 19th.

Here's the trend: We get settled at the game and Israel scopes the area for possible girlfriends. Then, it's, "Mommy, see those girls over there? Can I go play with them?" She makes friends at every game. (That arrow is pointing to Israel.)

Fun game. Lots of cheering. Isaiah took his usual post next to me, acting as a sort of "sportscaster" so that I can understand the game better. Zeke stands on the sidelines and cheers for Eli, helps me keep an eye on Israel, and takes it all in. When I have questions later, "So who was it again that made that 30-yard run?" it's Zeke who tells me the name and jersey number. He never ceases to amaze me by the way he soaks up the information around him.

Barons lost the game. And we left still in anticipation of getting to watch Eli play in a game.

This is a picture of just one of the really cool pieces of playground equipment near the football field! Of course, we had to stop and play for a while after the game!!
Yes, even LeRoy and I went on these cool slides! (Okay, all three boys had to coax and encourage this momma who's a wee bit o'fraid a' heights. But I didn't want to lay in bed that night and wonder what I'd missed.)

As I said earlier, we stayed on the Army Base that night and the next day we pondered all our options for how we wanted to meander our way home. We decided to attend the world's largest International Wine Festival in Bad-Durkheim.

Sep. 20th ~ On to Bad-Durkheim!

Vineyards laced the landscape for as far as the eye could see!

I told the children, "No rides. How un-cultured is that?" And, yes, I said it in my snootiest voice. So we simply watched as we walked through to the other exhibits...

(See the name of this ride? This pic's for you, Rupperts! smile.)

This is the famous wine "barrel." We're not exactly sure why it's famous (except that it's a building shaped like a wine barrel??), because it was closed at the time we visited.

Yes. This is a ride that Eli and Israel are on.

Israel spied it from afar and when we walked beneath it, she looked up longingly at the flying chairs, gave a long sigh, and said ever-so-sweetly, "I wish I could go on that ride." My goodness, I thought, really, in ten years, in twenty years, what is it that my children are going to remember about the World's Largest Wine Festival? It certainly won't be how impressed they were with all the wines!
And that settled it.

These festivals always have the most delicious cuisine! (Even though we're not exactly sure what we're eating...)

Thousands of people sat together at these long, skinny tables. We sat for a long time, listening to the melodic music of foreign tongues, laughter, and letting the amiable atmosphere envelope us.

"As the local poet Karl Räder put it: 'The Wurstmarkt is the only festival where you meet old friends you've never seen before.' Come and see us. Be our guest. Become one of our 'old friends.'" This was taken from Durkheim's official festival website.

Though, I admit, we didn't have so much as a sip of wine! Still, drinking soda from a glass bottle is a novelty!

On the way out, the boys enjoyed the go-cart track. Zeke remained focused.

Zae giggled.

And Eli... competed.

And, yes, watching my children so thoroughly enjoying themselves is what I, too, will remember in ten years, twenty years. (Thank You, Lord, for a patient family who gives me extra grace!)

We enjoyed an awesome thunder and rain storm on the way home, the sunset acting as grand finale. LeRoy and I indulged in conversation...

...while the children entertained one another in the back. Israel.
Zae.

Zeke.

Eli.

An amazing beginning to this new chapter! (Thank You, Jesus!)

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Soli Deo Gloria

Behind in my blogging... (time for blitz update...)

April 15, 2009 ~ Arrival in Rome, Italy...
a nap in sunshine dappled dreams
wispy white cotton-breeze kisses across sleepy faces
black and white Amsterdam visions

April 17 ~ Remembrances of 7-year old girl, full of daydreams... living in Nephi, Utah... looking up through branches from floor of treehouse...
Colosseum in Rome... 30 years later, exactly
Boys all excitement... "gladiators fought here!"

The Vatican... Sistine Chapel
Michelangelo
three panels of getting it right
the Creation
Lord, help me remember the all-important process...

May 10, 2009 ~ Mother's Day
Keukenhof Festival, Netherlands... Holland...

...the reason I hear Happy Mother's Day

this man who didn't bring me flowers on Mother's Day...
because he took me half way round the world... to the flowers instead...

this man of my dreams

this day spent in moments of shared inside jokes...

I love you's
...because you're mine...

and I love you more than the seas are vast sentiments at the North Sea

...this shared mission
ordained as parents
to treasure the arrows
in our quiver
How loud is your love?
Do you hear those waves crashing upon the shore, Small One?
How big is your love?
When you look out over the sea, do you notice how far, how wide, how deep, Beloved?
May 18 ~ Making memories in Morocco...

May 19 ~ This family that is a dream-come-true
building pyramids on the Balcony of Europe,
on the Costa del Sol in Spain
Mediterranean Sea for a backdrop
Birthday-girl at the top
...and then exploring Andalucian Hills
from tops of horses
etching Mediterranean views
and one another's smiles
in our memories
From time to time... the space differs slightly,
Switzerland, Spain, Austria, France, Italy, Belgium...
but I always lean in close,
my heart in the whisper, "I'm glad I'm married to you"
this man who is relentless in his
pursuit of my heart
~ Gibralter...

~ and Metz, France on June 7th
~ Mother's Day (in the country of France!)...
list of my favorite things (in no particular order):
weather (rainy/drizzly... overcast... snuggle-to-stay-warm sweater-weather)
my man
these treasures who call me Mom
friends to share Metz with... Claudine, Peter, and Eva...
...open doors...

...reflections...

...and sword fights in the rain... umbrellas drawn from sheaths...
this friendly duel between comrades.

...And Family Photo Ops in Front of Fountains...

Sometime later in June ~ Idar-Oberstein
with more favorite friends... four simply living...
gemstone museums, church in the rocks, castle ruins,
and more open doors.
~ Sometime during the first week of July while Uncle Jake and Aunt Kathy were here and we were on our travels to Paris, Munich, Poland, and then Amsterdam (over 3 weeks time).
Life is not a journey to the grave with intentions of arriving safely in a pretty, well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out and loudly proclaiming, WOW! What a ride!
July 28th ~ yesterday... 2-year anniversary of our arrival here in Germany...
one more year (officially... unless...)
Soli Deo Gloria (To God Alone be the Glory)