A day for boys



This is Roxy. The newest member to our crazy clan.  She is a 5 year old Rat Terrier - Aiy! Chi-wawa mix.  She sleeps under the covers with the kids, is completely house broken, and does some cute little tricks. I think she is a keeper.



While Dania got her hair done, and I had some quiet time to clean the house, the boys headed to the woods to blaze trails, ride 4 wheelers, shoot guns, and build bunkers for the air soft wars that have invaded our territory.

Dad gives some instruction on form

That's the way.

Happy Thanksgiving

A little dust

It has been exactly one month since I touched my thankfulness journal.  At first it was the busy running of family stuff that drew me away, then it was the death of my sil.  Still, I had things to record, and I kept a running list in my head of the most important things that I didn't want to forget.  Granted it wasn't the record I wanted to keep, but I felt like it was manageable, and then the bottom fell out, and I fell off the small ledge of thankfulness that I was trying to make into my lifes path. 

Everything started to slowly change.  I saw the journal but it looked boring.  I thought about it, but it seemed insignificant, after all real life is hard and days are gloomy, and tigers don't lose their stripes.  Too much time had passed, so many moments and days missed.  I felt the bleakness, but refused to believe that it had anything to do with my journal, because after all how could my small words really change the big mess of ingratitude that was me.  It must have been a placebo effect, the rush of something new. The magic pill.  Always, always impatient, always wanting the instant gratification the results now.

In the end I picked it up, not for any other reason than I had to.  I had to, because I said I would write to 1000, and if I didn't keep my word I couldn't live with the feeling of failure in something so small as being thankful. I didn't want to feel the weight of regret. Inspiring reason,I know!  I had to summarize a whole month in one phrase. I had to at least record it somehow.  There is no going back, those days are gone and I missed a lot.  There are many days ahead (Lord willing)and I hope to be present for them, this one month of dust will not summarize my life. I have been given another day to be thankful, and I intend to persevere and maybe even do some wrestling for the blessings.  I want the new me back, not the familiar one.

Now what?

That is what we have been saying to ourselves.  This particular path on our journey is over.
All of the funeral proceedings were done yesterday and all the extended family is headed home.  I have been left to wonder what is next and even morbidly, who is next? I can not help but wonder when is the next time I will be at the funeral home, or at a graveside unexpectedly.  This does leave me with some trepidations, and yet God is growing me in ways that I could not have imagined 10, even 5 years ago.  Death is a part of this fleeting life and I don't want to miss out or hurry any of it along anymore.

The last 4 years have been difficult, the last two a walk through the fire for my brother in law.  I have been so proud of him as he has walked in spirit and truth. My sil's family seems to be doing well also, they saw the merciful hand of God as well. She left behind three younger sisters, three children, her folks and all of us.  I have some fun memories from her life, and some special moments from the past few days that I will cherish.

Grace

Yesterday morning in the hours before dawn we were awakened to the news of my sister in laws sudden passing.  She had been in the hospital for 48 days after a horrific car accident that had left her body broken and her brain damaged.  She had spent most of her life running.  Running from God's love, running from true relationship, running from truth.  For the last two years her running had led her away from her family, her husband, her children. Nate and I had not spoken to her in almost a year, our last conversations with her were hard.  I could not see how God was going to mend all that was broken, but he did.  In the way that only God can bring healing, he did.  Even though I grieve for what might have been, and for all the hurt, I am still so thankful for all that he has accomplished in our lives.  Three weeks ago when her baby bundle was brought to our door and our hearts were melted, I saw the final string woven through the story.  I can honestly proclaim that all is well, all is good, all is grace.

Open Hands

I buckled the baby in the car and watched him ride away and wondered how I would spend my day, what would fill the hours day and night. Tears came to my eyes but did not spill over because I was not the worried, anxious, controlling person I once was, I had no answers as to what was best for this situation, and for once in my life I opened my heart and hands and said yes without stipulations and I saw God. I saw him in my kids, my husband, the kindness of strangers and in one delightful, squishy bundle. I have much to be thankful for, love bestowed, thanks given, and a pair of little socks that got left behind underneath the camera case.



‘I doubt that there is such a thing as a measure of spirituality —but if there is, gratitude would be it.

Only the grateful are paying attention.

They are grateful because they pay attention, and they pay attention because they are so grateful.”

(~Barnes, The Pastor as Minor Poet, quoted by Douglas Wilson). (borrowed from Ann)

Fall, Football and The Governor

Almost all the photos are courtesy of Nate, he has been a photo fiend.

Somehow Luke managed to anger the lizard so badly that he held on for several minutes until he could pry him lose.  I feel like doing this to Luke often, so I know how the lizard feels.

Hanging out at the game

Watching the action on the field.  Every Saturday for the past two months we sat on the 50 yard line and cheered on the INDIANS! I actually loved every minute, this is no soccer mom, football all the way.

See what I mean about the Lizard? This kid is always pestering someone.

Dania decorates his hat to make it more beautiful.

The boys call him "Governor" with a british accent and it has stuck.  I often hear such statements as "Ello Governor", "did you sleep well Governor?" "Let the Governor sit with me."

He is the happiest, sweetest baby I ever had.

Home Sweet Home!

These cute chairs were the find of the summer.  Four chairs, two end tables and a coffee table for $200