tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84398466437211742512024-02-19T04:30:03.875-05:00Lambs In His ArmsHe tends his flock like a shepherd:
He gathers the lambs in his arms
and carries them close to his heart;
he gently leads those that have young.
~ Isaiah 40:11Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger195125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-90107775639046834152013-03-16T23:55:00.000-04:002013-03-16T23:55:49.953-04:00When Life Hands You Mess, Say Thank YouIt's been a messy week.<br />
<br />
On Sunday, the dog (not our dog...we are dog-sitting) found a dirty diaper in the trash and shredded it. I was thankful for my vacuum cleaner.<br />
<br />
On Monday, our one and only household toilet experienced a major clog in the middle of the work day. (Translation: the husband I usually call upon for plumbing issues was not available.) After much fruitless time spent with the plunger and a murky bowl, I was thankful for wikihow, where I found advice on how to get things moving again. And I was oh so thankful for a successful flush.<br />
<br />
On Tuesday, I did what I'm always afraid the children will do: I dropped the quart container of yogurt, breaking the lid and smearing yogurt all over the floor, the fridge, and myself. I was thankful for my washing machine.<br />
<br />
On Wednesday, my sweet Hayden randomly said his head and stomach hurt, didn't eat his dinner, and then threw up. I was thankful that he's old enough to aim into a bowl; the couch was spared.<br />
<br />
On Thursday, Abby found Lydia's unattended bowl of yogurt on the counter and used it as fingerpaint - a fact I discovered when she sclimbed on top of me with sticky hands. I was thankful that the mess didn't spread too far. And I wondered if having yogurt in the house was really such a good idea.<br />
<br />
I started to think that I was having a particularly messy week, but then I remembered the lightbulb incident of last Wednesday. A helpful hint for life: when changing a lightbulb, don't drop it. The only good thing to come from a shattered vanity bulb is a spotlessly clean bathroom, which comes as a result of wiping, vacuuming, and scouring every inch of the room for specks of glass. I'm just thankful we don't use mercury-loaded florescent bulbs!<br />
<br />
Truly, life is messy. Life with children is even messier. Life with a toddler and her siblings, a borrowed dog, and busy butterfingers is the messiest of all.<br />
<br />
The amazing thing is that God loves me - mess and all. He knows every mistake I've made, the next slip I will make with hands or tongue, and the unseen stench of selfish, sinful thoughts. Yet he willingly reached into the murky mire to pull up people like me and make us clean. He loves righteousness more than I love spotless floors and freshly washed sheets, but He has mercy on sinners...even sinful moms who react to life's disasters with less-than-perfect attitudes. Life gets messy, but His kindness and love and mercy don't change. He alone is clean and pure and undefiled by the accidents, incidents, and outright sinfulness of our human existence.<br />
<br />
Clearly, I can't keep my home as tidy as I would like. Like autumn leaves on the ground, my floors are strewn with stray socks, Cheerios, puzzle pieces...and now dog hair. There is always a diaper or lightbulb that needs to be changed. And I can't keep my heart any cleaner than my house. On my own, I'm incapable of holiness. Only by God's saving grace can I dare to stand before Him, knowing that I am forgiven.<br />
<br />
When life gets messy - and it WILL get messy, even if you're not as clumsy as I am - don't wallow in the rubble. Take a deep breath, pick up the pieces, and thank the One who makes all things clean and new and beautiful.<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><i>At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life. </i><br />
Titus 3:3-7</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-22038817436812774702013-01-01T20:22:00.001-05:002013-01-01T20:22:44.107-05:00A New Year's PrayerDear Jesus, you came to love the world. And you did.<br />
<br />
You loved the sweetly sleeping baby.<br />
You loved the charming, verbal toddler.<br />
You loved the quiet dreamer.<br />
You loved the helpful parent-pleaser.<br />
You loved the convicted truth-speaker.<br />
You loved the loyal friend.<br />
You loved the calm, gentle parent.<br />
You loved the cheerful giver.<br />
You loved the disciplined commandment-follower.<br />
You loved the eager learner.<br />
You loved the joyful praise-singer.<br />
You loved the humble servant.<br />
You loved the good and godly, the clean and beautiful, the obedient, and the lovable.<br />
<br />
But you didn’t stop there.<br />
<br />
You loved the screaming, colicky baby.<br />
You loved the selfish toddler.<br />
You loved the shy, awkward child.<br />
You loved the disobeyer.<br />
You loved the haughty mirror-gazer.<br />
You loved the moody, rebellious teenager.<br />
You loved the oversleeper and the glutton.<br />
You loved the gossiper and the liar. <br />
You loved the immoral commandment-breaker.<br />
You loved the stubborn arguer.<br />
You loved the promise breaker.<br />
You loved the betrayer.<br />
You loved the emotional mess.<br />
You loved the angry, demanding parent.<br />
You loved the too-busy and the self-absorbed.<br />
You loved the stingy and the inhospitable.<br />
You loved the proud boaster.<br />
You loved the weak and the broken, the unclean and ungodly, the ugly, and the unlovable.<br />
<br />
And you still do.<br />
<br />
This year, may that love flow through me: love that doesn’t stop at easy, but reaches into the dark corners of difficult to bring light. May I live a life of love, because you did.<br />
<br />
And because You first loved me.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.</i><br />
1 John 4:7-12Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-15674974835470840582012-12-30T11:52:00.000-05:002012-12-30T11:52:07.331-05:00After-Christmas Letter, 2012Dear friends and family,<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFnsReAcnT8LpEKiiLx3hWgbCl2050wzO1ughyphenhypheni0zeG2vFPyUrBgNPKRAJrwQq0IEPIdFcQKlnSAcZSl9HakmTwQEkLwz6zepDHrnu2cBQ9kjarI-bjsMI8YWkB6m_hhl9BYFfeoi1EK9I/s1600/IMG_3489.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFnsReAcnT8LpEKiiLx3hWgbCl2050wzO1ughyphenhypheni0zeG2vFPyUrBgNPKRAJrwQq0IEPIdFcQKlnSAcZSl9HakmTwQEkLwz6zepDHrnu2cBQ9kjarI-bjsMI8YWkB6m_hhl9BYFfeoi1EK9I/s320/IMG_3489.JPG" /></a></div>If you noticed our lack of annual Christmas card this year, don’t be alarmed. While the rest of New England was dreaming of a white Christmas, we were privileged to spend a week in the sunny Caribbean when Don took our whole family on a cruise aboard <a href="http://www.royalcaribbean.com/home.do">Royal Caribbean</a>’s Independence of the Seas. We snorkeled off the Coast of Grand Cayman, rode horses in Jamaica, sunned ourselves on the beautiful beaches of Labadee, Haiti, and enjoyed the incredible food and swimming pools on the ship. It was quite the Christmas gift!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmckzpekYMihC81xElwdB9exSwUViNM3Nvh-soqfx2Yi3iscZk0vU0r-1YyEnsrd5uv_L6a16nTd8XHQAtDDM-C74o6xQZ_J-efEjpaHa42vKIVOGParKv1BO7aVBAzFNHWGkGo16-rGW_/s1600/IMG_3467.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmckzpekYMihC81xElwdB9exSwUViNM3Nvh-soqfx2Yi3iscZk0vU0r-1YyEnsrd5uv_L6a16nTd8XHQAtDDM-C74o6xQZ_J-efEjpaHa42vKIVOGParKv1BO7aVBAzFNHWGkGo16-rGW_/s320/IMG_3467.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Don put in many hours of overtime this year in preparation for our grand vacation. He works as a software developer by day and coaches gymnastics in the evenings. We are continuing to plan and save with the eventual goal of owning our own gymnastics facility. Manda also joined the fitness world this year by turning our family’s love of Beachbody products into a business as an <a href="http://beachbodycoach.com/esuite/home/digfitgirl">Independent Team Beachbody Coach</a>. She provides online fitness coaching and blogs about her health journey at <a href="http://digfitgirl.com/blog/">DigFitGirl.com</a>. In addition to her regular workouts, she and Donny <a href="http://digfitgirl.com/blog/fit-girls-first-5k/">ran a 5k</a> together in April!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI8u64XO-DsmpI27qt3D9RqrLGncqvlas8EDVz8Wpu9TmYbIClYs5gMdI-jShzNYY1ozt2bYkRWEdTRHq_QeCJbk_HEmXaQl0n7xtUG_Aq6KUNbzOmvkIam_OVA1xAhwWg61muJ3mYBf-I/s1600/IMG_3496.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left; margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI8u64XO-DsmpI27qt3D9RqrLGncqvlas8EDVz8Wpu9TmYbIClYs5gMdI-jShzNYY1ozt2bYkRWEdTRHq_QeCJbk_HEmXaQl0n7xtUG_Aq6KUNbzOmvkIam_OVA1xAhwWg61muJ3mYBf-I/s200/IMG_3496.JPG" /></a></div>At 14 months old, Abby is full-fledged toddler who empties cupboards and snuggles her teddy bears, or “buhbise.” Her favorite word is “up,” but she also says Mumma, Dada, buhbye, and no, and signs for milk and more. Lydia is an active 3.5 year old who loves learning letters and playing the Mumma to her baby dolls (and often her siblings as well!). <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Acmu-vX0x5Fkee1inGA_8_vX_kEQGThiw8ANoX5EbYhtjCdeHygTu3NeBrltCJCaYwD5nB1i7V5n9xiLVkerrJZJryQgAywyBVXnVQ0krASsMbLnCoFBacJ6bE30uiz8ws9-xKsgVPWz/s1600/IMG_2507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Acmu-vX0x5Fkee1inGA_8_vX_kEQGThiw8ANoX5EbYhtjCdeHygTu3NeBrltCJCaYwD5nB1i7V5n9xiLVkerrJZJryQgAywyBVXnVQ0krASsMbLnCoFBacJ6bE30uiz8ws9-xKsgVPWz/s200/IMG_2507.JPG" /></a></div>The boys are now doing third grade homeschool work - our curriculum this year is called <a href="http://www.mfwbooks.com/products/M50/40/10/0/1">Exploring Countries and Cultures</a>, so we are all learning some world geography. The boys also participated in a Junior Lego League this fall. Six year old Hayden started gymnastics this year and learned to swim underwater this summer, while Donny is passionate about collecting coins, studying science, and reading Boxcar Children books. We celebrated Donny’s 8th birthday on 12/12/12 - it is hard to believe how quickly all of the children are growing up!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgftfIXvQdHdnr0KqN_NoOIrAdJ1vcQwbc3bLwUulvnArQMGLPmuO_UweFHF0ZBOfdNH8a2xayY3R90baIJTW9sSLNQ3hUGiVi6L_CHRiUD1KTnegGN7EDYM6zikU_saLhbQcwTuNVeb9Jq/s1600/Donny1and8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgftfIXvQdHdnr0KqN_NoOIrAdJ1vcQwbc3bLwUulvnArQMGLPmuO_UweFHF0ZBOfdNH8a2xayY3R90baIJTW9sSLNQ3hUGiVi6L_CHRiUD1KTnegGN7EDYM6zikU_saLhbQcwTuNVeb9Jq/s320/Donny1and8.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGkphgD2HrgVX1lqY7zibii2qviiwtNADIFw-5Rbn9H7ChTvD3cp5oHPKaw7BPqTSMOoBTCB61Wu3MtmeCmfov9GYCiPgY3K29HYiCzcUBcq1pMEt9zmd2TNKJ7zcoPlKZdWo12Vw_D7iD/s1600/IMG_3365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGkphgD2HrgVX1lqY7zibii2qviiwtNADIFw-5Rbn9H7ChTvD3cp5oHPKaw7BPqTSMOoBTCB61Wu3MtmeCmfov9GYCiPgY3K29HYiCzcUBcq1pMEt9zmd2TNKJ7zcoPlKZdWo12Vw_D7iD/s320/IMG_3365.JPG" /></a></div><br />
After a few months of hunting, our family joined a small new church. We are excited to be using our gifts there, including Don’s launch of a new youth group for teens. Manda has been participating in the <a href="http://www.mops.org/">MOPS</a> (Mothers of Preschoolers) group as well as some <a href="http://www.goodmorninggirls.org/">online Bible studies</a>. It is a blessing to be part of a community of believers who are passionate about God and demonstrate compassion for people. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG22NjSovZwqh-RwpkHlF5kgM5fMuTEcBZPXkZPAUzppGFvr4qEzWNVrvW6uhIh6xPDc6nEJyF-pAe3kYyN8gM_GhWSLSBJJzD1cGcNYvxA1RUC8T5rpyLX3RmYBD-Uxh9gyrDS6Xv-VYL/s1600/IMG_3516.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG22NjSovZwqh-RwpkHlF5kgM5fMuTEcBZPXkZPAUzppGFvr4qEzWNVrvW6uhIh6xPDc6nEJyF-pAe3kYyN8gM_GhWSLSBJJzD1cGcNYvxA1RUC8T5rpyLX3RmYBD-Uxh9gyrDS6Xv-VYL/s320/IMG_3516.JPG" /></a></div><br />
As we head in 2013, we do not know what the year will hold, but we are excited to see where God will lead us as we strive to follow His will for our lives. May He bless you and your family this year!<br />
<br />
Love,<br />
<br />
Don, Manda, Donny, Hayden, Lydia, and Abby<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinomMuFcq9ngeYMQ9_wm7fxMNWxnyIItucs8l38j4FnK-GXT1k_tjRTDg_GDRFSobSam-8SFmfyAV4twGJRCzvZXBGPF1CNLxypufTBFhRsXPUYor2G7O4o7xBuUmW2rRK7Zk1DKPE8O_J/s1600/family2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="267" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinomMuFcq9ngeYMQ9_wm7fxMNWxnyIItucs8l38j4FnK-GXT1k_tjRTDg_GDRFSobSam-8SFmfyAV4twGJRCzvZXBGPF1CNLxypufTBFhRsXPUYor2G7O4o7xBuUmW2rRK7Zk1DKPE8O_J/s400/family2012.jpg" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-55779246995252852042012-11-21T16:14:00.000-05:002012-11-22T00:22:58.232-05:00Overflowing with ThankfulnessFor anyone who may have wondered...yes, my family and I are still alive and well. Life has been humming along at full speed, and I’m too busy managing each overstuffed day to sit down and reflect on it in lengthy typed paragraphs. But in honor of Thanksgiving, my <a href="http://www.goodmorninggirls.org/">Good Morning Girls</a> study is having a week of being intentionally grateful. Our first assignment was to make a list of the things, people, and circumstances for which we are thankful. My list turned out to be too long to condense into a hastily written Facebook post. Instead, I thought that I’d clear some dust off the 'ole blog, and share with all of you a few of the things that are evoking joy in my heart right now.<br />
<br />
Because I love (and am thankful for!) organization, I have categorized my list of blessings. And for those who, like myself, are appreciative of proper English spelling and grammar, I hope that my consistent use of capitalized and punctuated sentence fragments will overshadow my violation of the complete-sentence rule. Below, enjoy my 2012 Thankful List.<br />
<br />
<b>Food</b>: Yummy breakfasts of granola or oatmeal. Eggs, meat, and nuts for protein. Being able to afford Shakeology, the Healthiest Meal of the Day. Homemade baked goodies. Feasting on Thanksgiving. Cookies and pies and other treats. Going out to eat. The freedom and responsibility to choose what to buy and what to cook each day.<br />
<br />
<b>Appliances</b>: A high-tech, front-loading washing machine that gets all of our clothes nice and clean. Our dishwasher, which spares me from many hours of dishwashing every day. A refrigerator and freezer to keep our abundance of food fresh.<br />
<br />
<b>Warmth</b>: Long, hot showers. The bathroom heater to enhance my long, hot showers. A cozy house to keep out the wind and rain. Quilts and blankets and warm clothing to snuggle in. Heat in my car. Peppermint tea with honey.<br />
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<b>Abundance</b>: Having two vehicles so that we’re never “stranded.” Being able to give away clothes that don’t fit right because we don’t need them. Having more food than we need, and never going hungry. Shelves loaded with books, including many translations of the Bible, as well as having the Scripture at our fingertips with smart phone apps and <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/">Bible Gateway</a>. Having plenty of technological gadgets to manage our lives and keep us connected.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOG3JVaUAmQEG0WbiAYb4MgdxSlsqyfm2x3ECvP8lduA3Gn8NvUB4NhimTn7RF2KjG9Xr-ZkSH3-X0KefERyiGpAsi-9MdDJzt16mlJm3l0V_3FlQdJgVWbQW5CM1ZtzgyW6zpyiH8dQk3/s1600/IMG_3207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOG3JVaUAmQEG0WbiAYb4MgdxSlsqyfm2x3ECvP8lduA3Gn8NvUB4NhimTn7RF2KjG9Xr-ZkSH3-X0KefERyiGpAsi-9MdDJzt16mlJm3l0V_3FlQdJgVWbQW5CM1ZtzgyW6zpyiH8dQk3/s320/IMG_3207.JPG" /></a></div><b>Senses</b>: Soft, kissable baby cheeks. The way candlelight flickers. Stomping and shuffling through crunchy autumn leaves. The smells of cookies in the oven and cinnamon. The peaceful stillness of the house when everyone else is sleeping.<br />
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<b>Activities</b>: My local <a href="http://www.mops.org/">MOPS</a> group (Mothers of Preschoolers), where fellow moms “in the trenches” of parenting and I can encourage each other over snacks and crafts. Accountability and exhortation from daily Bible Study through my Good Morning Girls group. Being able to put our children in gymnastics, which they love. Visiting friends and inviting them to visit us. Apple picking every September. Living close enough to the beach that we could drive there every week this summer. Swimming and kayaking and snorkeling and sunbathing at the lake.<br />
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<b>Freedoms</b>: The privilege of homeschooling my children and choosing their curriculum. The right to own guns for sport and self-defense. Having no fear of persecution for owning a Bible or going to church. The right to participate in choosing our government. Living in a capitalist republic. All of the soldiers who have made sacrifices to obtain and defend the freedoms we enjoy.<br />
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<b>Health and fitness</b>: Not having to worry about deadly diseases. Every day that I don’t have a headache. Being healthy enough to workout daily. Getting physically stronger. All of our fitness equipment and many home workout programs. Healthy children who are growing and developing.<br />
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<b>Family</b>: The rare but precious times when I see or overhear my children being kind to each other. Going on vacation to the mountains, beach, or on a cruise together. Grandparents who are generous and always willing to babysit. Laughing together. Having no shortage of people to pray for, hug, and visit.<br />
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<b>Church</b>: Our church family of dear people who love and encourage us. The ladies who are happy to snuggle Abby in the nursery. Friends who have new babies and like to talk about “mom stuff.” Singing praise songs and dancing for joy. Pastors who explain God’s Word with boldness and clarity. Friends all over the country who are brothers and sisters in Christ.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSBhyFOBcJ8Pk8R3t-9t3U4e6JkgW1aBRhG__9t65HT5eKBfjb70oULqgLwGwWmcn9jhWYIZYQ0BdrZ2fdQvGVJLxQ0GHq_zn89hbmShUt0pzdm-2pLdmm8PLAfW92ygIrk45VWRzwIhnu/s1600/IMG_3007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSBhyFOBcJ8Pk8R3t-9t3U4e6JkgW1aBRhG__9t65HT5eKBfjb70oULqgLwGwWmcn9jhWYIZYQ0BdrZ2fdQvGVJLxQ0GHq_zn89hbmShUt0pzdm-2pLdmm8PLAfW92ygIrk45VWRzwIhnu/s200/IMG_3007.JPG" /></a></div><b>My husband</b>: Late night laughter over something silly. Date nights at the beach or gun club or our favorite steak house. Snuggling on the couch. His willingness to work hard at multiple jobs to give us a better life. The way all children adore him and teens trust him. His strong sense of right and wrong, and ability to defend his position. His incredible strength. His ability to do crazy flips and other gymnastics. His blue eyes. Backrubs. Being woken up on weekday mornings by his kisses. Chatting and texting during the day. Praying together.<br />
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<b>My children</b>: Raising smart, beautiful children whom other people like. Watching them play together. Donny’s intelligence, his interest in all kinds of learning, his newfound love for reading, his mind for engineering, his helpfulness with household chores, his appreciation for organization. Hayden’s affection, his intelligence, his perfect handwriting, his physical strength, his love for God’s Word. Lydia’s verbal skills, her cheerful attitude, the funny things she says, her bedtime “one more hug”s. Abby’s snuggles, her tentative first steps, the way she has blossomed from tiny newborn into tiny person with thoughts and feelings, the way she plays with her siblings, her sweet smile. The way they snuggle up together and say, "Take our picture!"<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtRgE0qBtnPs2Vwuw1ii1uSclpEVngpUpkPPLL5uPYr2SKyxLpyjymK-FEZBT3I97GlMpWX1tm_SPe89OrbMTQV4uqCY03PJMhmcibs3QDaQziecvNFmwwdval290Zxsyiyy3vdQ_28AwN/s1600/IMG_3325.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtRgE0qBtnPs2Vwuw1ii1uSclpEVngpUpkPPLL5uPYr2SKyxLpyjymK-FEZBT3I97GlMpWX1tm_SPe89OrbMTQV4uqCY03PJMhmcibs3QDaQziecvNFmwwdval290Zxsyiyy3vdQ_28AwN/s320/IMG_3325.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<b>My job</b>: Being the one to teach my children almost everything they know. Not having a boss to report to or a commute to work. Using my creativity to turn a house into a home. Making life run more smoothly with schedules and organization. Earning extra income through my <a href="http://beachbodycoach.com/digfitgirl">Beachbody business</a> not because I have to, but because I want to. Helping others to get fit and healthy.<br />
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<b>My God</b>: God’s faithfulness to meet with me whenever I seek Him. Finding comfort in His Word. Growing in my feeble understanding of the Holy Spirit. The amazing privilege of participating in God’s work through prayer. Seeing prayers answered. Not having to be perfect, because I can’t be, and knowing that I am still loved. The glorious freedom of being in Christ - freedom from sin, and from restrictive laws. Most of all, Jesus’ death and resurrection for me. Without that, nothing else matters. He is everything! <br />
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This fall’s Bible study was on the book of Colossians. When we delved into Chapter 2, this verse stood out to me:<br />
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<div align="center"><i>So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness. </i><br />
Colossians 2:6-7</div><br />
I have been blessed with so much in my life. It doesn’t mean that everything is perfect, or that I never have struggles and trials. We can be thankful for good circumstances, but true thankfulness goes beyond circumstances. True thankfulness looks beyond the comforts of earth to the hope of heaven, and rejoices in a God who is good even when circumstances are not. The Apostle Paul writes of his overflowing thankfulness from the dark recesses of prison. He isn’t rejoicing over free cable and hot meals - his thankfulness is all about Christ’s redeeming work on the cross. <br />
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Fellow believers, as we reflect on our blessings this Thanksgiving season, we can appreciate all that is good in our lives. But if we are truly rooted and built up in Christ, we won’t just be <i>full</i> of thanks . . . we will overflow!<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-25883571420447236742012-05-31T14:39:00.000-04:002012-05-31T14:53:57.924-04:00The Exceeding Joy of Rained-out VacationsMy husband went on a business trip, and obligingly let me and my little nursling tag along. My generous sister-in-law was even willing to take the three big kids for four days and continue homeschooling them in my absence. (It's definitely a blessing to have another homeschooling mom in the family!). So on Monday afternoon, Don, Abby and I boarded a plane in Boston and headed to Orlando for some necessary business and some fun in the sun.<br />
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Abby was a doll on the plane ride, bouncing happily in the beginning and end, nursing on the way up and down, and sleeping on my lap in the middle. Since I tend to get sick on plane rides myself, I am very thankful for children who tolerate them well. Our flight was delayed about 20 minutes by some bad weather, but we eventually landed, and my ear popped enough to relieve the painful pressure I had experienced in the air. After a long trek and then a wait at baggage claim, we gathered our suitcases and went to pick up our rental car. Although we were staying on Disney property during the conference and a shuttle was provided, I had requested renting a car for a day so that we could spend a few hours at Cocoa Beach, just an hour away from Orlando. Why come all the way to Florida without seeing the ocean? Don had agreed that it would be fun if we rented a cool sporty convertible to cruise to the beach, so we went to the rental counter to pick up our Ford Mustang.<br />
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Except, the Mustang wasn't there. They wanted to give us a Sebring instead, but we had paid for a Mustang convertible. After a few minutes, a suitable car was found, and we crammed our suitcases, stroller, and selves into the black sportscar. It was now much later than I had anticipated leaving the airport, and the skies looked ominous, so we weren't sure if driving all the way to the beach was a good idea. We decided to take our luggage to the hotel and make a decision there. We drove with the top up, because it was raining, and Abby - who had been so sweet and wonderful on the plane ride - screamed the entire way. The car had great pick-up, but the headrests were uncomfortable, and the voice commands took ages to respond correctly. At check-in, there was a brief scare where Don thought that we were being charged $500 to add Abby and me to the room (thankfully it was just a misunderstanding!). Then we found our way through the maze of the resort paths and halls to our room, and breathed a small sigh of relief.<br />
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In case you haven't guessed by now, we weren't going to the beach. As much as we wanted to, the thought of driving all the way there only to find rain was discouraging. Abby was asleep in her carseat, so we headed out to dinner at the Outback instead. Some good food helped the evening take a turn for the better, and then we returned the rental car and rode the shuttle bus back to our resort. Our room was nothing terribly special, but it was cleaner than some hotels where we have stayed, and it was nice to finally relax.<br />
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On Tuesday morning, I had planned to take care of some business computer tasks and get a tan by the pool. God had other plans, though; the internet was painfully slow, and it rained all morning. A mid-day overcast sky gave me just enough time to take a walk with Abby before more rain came. We were here in Florida, the Sunshine State, and the sun was nowhere to be seen. With no beach, unfavorable pool weather, no where to go without stepping outside, and a slow internet connection, the cable TV was starting to look like the highlight of the trip. As I walked along winding paths through the muggy grayness, I wondered what God was trying to say to me. I wasn't happy, but I knew that He is in control. For some reason, He saw fit to send rain.<br />
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Back in the hotel room, as I wondered what God was saying, I clearly felt Him tell me to listen. I hadn't bothered to pack a Bible, since I knew it would be accessible on my phone and laptop, but thankfully the Gideons had placed one in my dresser drawer. I opened it up somewhere in the middle to see how the Lord would speak to me through His Word, and here is what I read:<br />
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<blockquote><b>Psalm 43</b><br />
<i>Judge me, O God, and plead my cause against an ungodly nation: O deliver me from the deceitful and unjust man.<br />
For thou art the God of my strength: why dost thou cast me off? why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?<br />
O send out thy light and thy truth: let them lead me; let them bring me unto thy holy hill, and to thy tabernacles.<br />
Then will I go unto the altar of God, unto God my exceeding joy: yea, upon the harp will I praise thee, O God my God.<br />
Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? hope in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God.</i></blockquote><br />
Isn't it amazing that when we listen, God speaks? There in a simple Psalm, He clearly told me: "I am your health, your beauty, your joy. Sunshine and swimming pools can't give you the joy that I can. When you feel discontent, and things aren't going perfectly, look at ME! I am Light and Truth and the Way. Come to me, because here is not some shallow, sun-kissed happiness, but deep and lasting <i>exceeding</i> joy!"<br />
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And by God's grace, on Wednesday, the sun came out. I probably wouldn't have appreciated it so much if it hadn't rained on Monday and Tuesday. And I may never have looked up and wondered and read and remembered that no matter what the weather, exceeding joy is mine in Christ.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-42392898707546306242012-05-18T23:30:00.002-04:002012-05-19T00:10:21.652-04:00How to Have a Happy Birthday<div align="center"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-bI8ZCiB6B0g/T7cV85SuRAI/AAAAAAAABj8/pSf8VChnFo0/s512/IMG_2114.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div><br />
If you want to have a Happy Birthday, decide ahead of time that you will. Attitude is 90 percent of having a happy day.<br />
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If your husband happens to be home and agreeable, kick off the celebration by going out - alone! - for an hour on your Birthday Eve. Enjoy the quiet drive to the electronics store. Return the tablet that you bought to replace your deceased laptop, and pick out a shiny new Samsung laptop instead. The tablet is a neat piece of technology, but not very functional for managing a home, school, business, and social life at the same time. Don't waste time mourning the death of your old laptop, even if it did eat your baby's six month pictures and all of your documents when the hard drive crashed. Your blog readers will understand why they'll never see those image-laden posts you had intended to write last week. Take this as a reminder to back up anything important. Right now. (I'm talking to you. Stop reading and go back up your pictures!)<br />
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Before heading to bed, change your earrings. If your husband has turned you into a girlie-girl (and he has), he'll want you to have a girl's best friend, and you'll want to look a little extra special for your special day.<br />
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On your birthday morning, wake up early - even if you think you could use another hour of sleep. You don't want to waste your birthday lying around in bed. Enjoy your husband's presence, since he is usually at work long before you open your eyes in the morning. Graciously remind him and your children what day it is. Never resent others for not being as date-conscious as you are. If the day matters to you, tell them, smile, and return their birthday hugs.<br />
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Check in with your Bible study group on Facebook. Spend some time in the Word, remembering Who gave you this day and every other. Read messages and emails from friends. You just might have a message inviting you to a tour of a local dairy farm on that very day. Since the sun is shining, everyone is healthy, and you have a vehicle for the first time this week, you should go! Plus, you love cows. (Don't you?)<br />
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Don't skip your workout; exercise will help keep you happy, and burn off a few of those birthday treat calories too. Shower, eat, and pack up the children for a fun field trip adventure. Meet up with your friend Nancy and her little ones, known by your children as "the family we met in the bikes," because she recognized you from your blog posts and introduced herself when your families were both shopping at WalMart one day. Meet some other homeschooling families, a farmer, and lots of cows. <br />
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Learn alongside your children about how the cows are cared for and the milk is processed. Buy plenty of goodies at the farm store - it is your birthday, after all. Rare treats of ice cream, pie, and honey sticks will make the day so much sweeter.<br />
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When you arrive home in the afternoon, watch with delight as a monarch butterfly flits arounds your front door. Let the children stay outside and enjoy the beautiful weather. Accept and cherish their offerings of weeds, wildflowers, and a heart-shaped leaf. Then send the older ones to your mother-in-law's. They'll have fun playing with relatives while you enjoy some relative peace and quiet.<br />
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Snuggle up with baby in your favorite nursing chair and take a nap together. You won't get much done, you might not even get much rest, but you'll want to savor this moment. Remember doing the same thing half a year ago with your tiny newborn? Before you know it, a few more half-years will go by, and she will be too big for nursing and snuggly afternoon naps in your arms.<br />
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If you have time, send a few emails so you can feel like you were productive. Smile that birthday cards and the book you pre-ordered a few weeks ago arrived in the mail. Share your testimony with friends, and reflect on God's grace in your life. Bake the chicken pie (that you bought at the farm) to share with your family when they come home. Finish the day with apple pie, Bible stories, and hugs. Contemplate writing a blog post to recount all of the little blessings of the day. You have had a simple but wonderful birthday, and you are thankful!<br />
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<div align="center"><i>Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.</i> <br />
James 1:17</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-79723601666013538032012-03-20T21:14:00.000-04:002012-03-24T21:17:02.412-04:00Arrows in Hand<div align="center"><i>Like arrows in the hands of a warrior <br />
are children born in one’s youth. <br />
Blessed is the man <br />
whose quiver is full of them. <br />
They will not be put to shame <br />
when they contend with their opponents in court.</i><br />
Psalm 127:4-5</div><br />
With the sudden arrival of spring, the sunshine has gone straight to my head. Even today, a Tuesday, I was still on a bit of a high from the weekend. A visit with a sister in Christ on Friday, fun with friends on Saturday, and a beautiful sunny Sunday of worship and family time were blessings to my spirit. <br />
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At Don's suggestion on Sunday afternoon, we all went to the local Fish and Game Club that we recently joined, where everyone but Abby tested out my pink bow, and we only lost a few arrows. Then we trekked over the muddy trail through the woods to see the under-construction 600 yard rifle range. It was a perfect afternoon for a nature walk, with Daddy pushing the girls in the double stroller while I practiced running in my fantastic <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Vibram-Five-Fingers-Bikila-Silver/dp/B003BEER9C/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1332375372&sr=8-4">new shoes</a>. We raced the last stretch back to van, sweaty and thirsty and laughing together. Back at home, we finished off the evening with baths, grilled hamburgers, and gathering around on the floor for Bible storytime. It was a simple but special afternoon, made all the more precious by the rarity of such moments of just relaxing and enjoying our togetherness. <br />
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Monday came and went while the temperature rose. Then last night, a sick little Hayden staggered out to the living room. Daddy bathed him while I changed sheets and blankets and wiped up floors. Thankfully, he returned to bed without any more vomiting disruptions, and we all got a good night's sleep (which I am learning to never take for granted). I didn't set my alarm, but still managed to get a workout in this morning while the baby and Hayden were still sleeping.<br />
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While I finished stretching, sweet Lydia came to join me, and her attempts to copy my splits made me smile. Then, ever specific in her snack requests, she asked for "some of Daddy's cottage cheese." I didn't think she liked cottage cheese, but she ended up finishing it, and asking for more...and more. Then while I showered, I heard her at the sink and asked, "What are you doing, Lydia?" She was washing the bowl from her snack, of course! I was touched by her capabilities and charming two year old ways, and counted my blessings as I sat down to nurse the now-awake and hungry Miss Abby.<br />
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Suddenly, a loud crash rang through the house, freezing both Donny and me in our tracks for a millisecond, until an unusual scream came from Lydia's room. Donny ran in while I unlatched Abby and followed, only to see Donny run back out, also screaming. A five-drawer dresser had fallen, drawers spewed open, and I couldn't see Lydia. <br />
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In the next few seconds, I located her distressed face pinned in the wreckage, pushed the dresser back in its upright position, and lifted a drawer off her helpless leg. Donny asked if he should get the phone (I said no) and helped comfort his crying baby sister while I lifted the other sister onto the bed. There was a deep indentation in her shin where the edge of the drawer had been pressed into her. And...that was it. No breaks, no blood. She was crying, but she could stand and wiggle her toes and hug me back as I wrapped my arms around her and thanked God.<br />
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I have heard tragic stories of toddlers being killed by falling dressers, so "never climb a bookshelf or a dresser" has always been a rule in our house - a rule repeated one time too few, perhaps. Or we could blame the backlog of unfolded laundry; when she found her bottom drawer empty of the usual dresses and pants, she had opened higher drawers in an attempt to reach them and find something to wear. Whatever the cause, I thank God for Lydia's doll stroller, which had been parked in front of the dresser and seemed to absorb some of the blow from the falling furniture. The metal frame was cracked and mangled, but dear Lydia was safe.<br />
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Despite the morning's scare, the day was peaceful. Hayden slept much of the day, as did Abby, lending an usual quietness to our busy house. I sent Donny and Lydia to the backyard with sidewalk chalk, and Donny showed her how to write the letters of the alphabet. I caught up on emails and business things, folded laundry, and read aloud to the boys for school.<br />
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And now that the laundry is folded and tucked into closed drawers, beds are covered in fresh clean sheets, and little heads are resting on their pillows, I am left thanking God for each of these precious blessings. They have their share of trouble and tantrums, but they are also all unique and wonderful personalities who make our lives richer and our everyday moments sweeter. <br />
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Thank you, Lord, for the privilege of raising arrows for You, and thank you for keeping each one of them safe in Your hand.<br />
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<div align="center"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fhlTmEL9-vI/T25tBq7eGAI/AAAAAAAABW4/ZIniU2Qsm2Y/s512/IMG_1963.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-61440350293679613052012-02-23T22:57:00.000-05:002012-02-24T10:58:55.573-05:00The Hair Scare of the Pull-Ups Princess<div align="center"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Y8cWUafr8ag/T0cbOrcbYsI/AAAAAAAABSE/JEu7OsCOQA4/s512/IMG_1709-1.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /></div><br />
Meet two-and-a-half year old Lydia Faith. She's at an age where everything she says is cute, because she talks in big girl paragraphs with a little girl voice. She doesn't want to be left out of whatever her brothers are doing, whether it's playing outside or watching a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B004KL0OWE/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=lainhiar-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B004KL0OWE"><i>Diego</i></a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=lainhiar-20&l=as2&o=1&a=B004KL0OWE" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important;" /> DVD (though she seems to have a preference for <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000FSME1U/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=lainhiar-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B000FSME1U"><i>Blue's Clues</i></a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=lainhiar-20&l=as2&o=1&a=B000FSME1U" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important;" /> and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0009OMCXK/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=lainhiar-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B0009OMCXK"><i>Hide 'em in Your Heart</i></a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=lainhiar-20&l=as2&o=1&a=B0009OMCXK" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important;" />). <br />
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<div align="center"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-DN8yX49JFDs/T0caKW2onQI/AAAAAAAABRs/7mQfio7i3Xk/s512/MVI_1849.jpg" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div><br />
She's always hungry (except at mealtime), and usually very specific in her requests. "I <i>am</i> a little hungry. Can I please have a string cheese?" will soon be followed by "Mumma, I am <i>so, so</i> hungry," as she follows Mumma through the house like a puppy. If she sees me at the blender, she'll ask for a smoothie or for some of my <a href=”http://myshakeology.com/esuite/home/1fitforhim”>Shakeology</a>. She doesn't need naps; in fact, if she crashes on the couch or in the car (or at the table during snack time), she wakes up crying and miserable. <br />
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She has been wearing underwear for nine months, but still requires frequent reminders to go to the bathroom (which she has been able to do independently for about 6 months). She asks Daddy to help her do pull-ups and loves going to open gym, where she runs and climbs with gusto. She's both tough but emotional, rough but cuddly, sassy but sweet. <br />
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She loves her Mumma, but she adores her Daddy too. She regularly asks him to buy her a pink bike and (<a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2012/01/pink-pants-purple-pencils-and-who-i-am.html">like her Mumma</a>!) any other pink thing she can name. She loves to pour out her affection on him: as he was leaving a few days ago, she raised her voice above the household din to tell him, "I kissed your leg because I couldn't reach your cheek!" If she wakes up in the middle of the night, a snuggle from Daddy makes everything okay. Last time this happened, she staggered down the hall around 11pm, rubbing her eyes. Daddy scooped her up, took her to the bathroom, changed her Pull-up, and tucked her back into bed without any conversation. Then, in her bluntly inquisitive two year old way, she suddenly perked up and asked, "What are you guys doing up?"<br />
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<div align="center"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-QBOugEg_LnI/T0cbmsckKUI/AAAAAAAABSM/QASg8FAMDLc/s512/IMG_1623.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /></div><br />
At dinner a few days ago, when the boys started telling jokes (for some reason, all of us sitting down to dinner together cues them to launch into one of their bad-joke giggle fests) she told her own knock-knock joke. She answered "Who's there?" with "Macaroni penguin." <br />
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"Macaroni penguin who?" we asked. <br />
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"Macaroni penguin Santa Claus!" she laughed.<br />
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Don and I declared her joke to be the best one invented by any of our children (a record which wasn't tough to beat).<br />
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She loves to help, but don't even think about taking one of her jobs. ("No, <i>I'm</i> talking to Baby Abby!") She can identify some letters and numbers, inlcuding "L for Lydia!" And if you try to call her anything else, (say, "Lyds" as Hayden calls her, or some sugary pet name), she'll respond, "Don't call me Lyddie! Call me Li-dee-yah." Or perhaps, like today, she will set you straight on her nickname of choice, like when she told Daddy, "I'm not Honey. Mumma is Honey. I'm Sweetie!"<br />
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She may only get her shoes on the right feet half the time, but she has a sense of fashion, knowing what socks coordinate with an outfit, and loving her pink cowgirl boots. <br />
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<div align="center"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Ggdf5jpXtwg/T0ewZJPaqnI/AAAAAAAABSg/64zqO2gNq3M/s512/IMG_1617-1.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /></div><br />
Up until recently, she also liked to ask for ponytails. It wasn't my intention to give my no-longer-a-baby-girl a grown-up looking haircut, but I had a little unsolicited help from my favorite (if mischeivous) five year old. Though I certainly wasn't happy with Hayden's hair hacking misdemeanor, I am oh so thankful that he left it long enough for me to even off into a decent looking bob. Add a pretty hairclip, and it almost looks like we did this on purpose.<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-F02vdVKUtLU/T0casNi59fI/AAAAAAAABR0/IEt7EjClPR8/s512/IMG_1835.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /></div><br />
She's busy and demanding, but she's wonderfully lovable. My Lydia is growing fast, and I'm sure her hair will too.<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-kgQgcSwoRBE/T0ccyz1HFyI/AAAAAAAABSU/3wntrmWC8kA/s512/IMG_1840.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /><br />
<br />
<i>Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel. <br />
Your hair is like royal tapestry; <br />
the king is held captive by its tresses.</i><br />
Song of Solomon 7:5</div><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-73427608025219728722012-02-13T23:30:00.000-05:002012-02-14T00:20:51.507-05:00Four Months of (Abigail) Joy<i><div align="center">...All the days ordained for me were written in your book <br />
before one of them came to be. </i><br />
~ Psalm 139:16b</div><br />
When Lydia was three months old, I wrote a post about <a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2009/09/lydias-first-quarter.html">her first quarter-year of life</a>. I intended to do the same thing for Abby, but somehow she is already four months old, and the days are flying by faster than I can record them. Before another quarter year escapes me, I want to jot down some notes about my quickly growing baby girl.<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><i>Ten days old</i><br />
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-4bWT_579r-k/TzlTmA0zh5I/AAAAAAAABQU/jRSPot0I-jk/s512/IMG_1039.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div><br />
Like her sister, Abby didn't want to be put down for the first two months out of the womb. Then, right around eight weeks, I was finally able to lay her in her activity gym for a few minutes without any fussing. Now she reaches for toys and chews on blankets and other things that come near her mouth. I have never seen a baby make as many spit bubbles as she does; at times, her little mouth is like a fountain of foam. When she isn't bubbling, chewing, or complaining about her wet diaper, she gives out some pretty charming smiles. All of her siblings adore her, and Lydia is the first to sing or talk to Baby Abby when she cries, but she seems to have a special fascination with watching and smiling at Donny. She would let Donny hold her in the early weeks even when she cried for Hayden and Lydia. Certainly, there is no shortage of people to love Abby, and I'm thankful that she gets plenty of attention even if I cannot constantly be the one who gives it to her.<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-zUsvQ8At29g/TzlTyqWdPRI/AAAAAAAABQc/GztgbnFBYQo/s512/IMG_1575.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /></div><br />
She has hated baths since her very first one in the hospital, so I have limited my attempts to bathe her to about once a week. Whether I gave her a sponge bath, put her in the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000QIJ020/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=lainhiar-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B000QIJ020">washpod</a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=lainhiar-20&l=as2&o=1&a=B000QIJ020" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important;" />, or laid her down in the big tub, she screamed through every minute of her early bathing sessions. It wasn't until she was over three months old that she learned to tolerate getting clean, and it still isn't her favorite thing. She also doesn't seem to love being worn as much as my first three babies did. I'm not sure if she doesn't like it because I don't put her in the sling or carrier as often I did with the younger ones, or if I don't wear her as often because she doesn't like it. Thankfully, she'll tolerate an <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0010PW3A4/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=lainhiar-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B0010PW3A4">Ergo</a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=lainhiar-20&l=as2&o=1&a=B0010PW3A4" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important;" /> ride in the grocery store during our weekly excursion, but if she isn't super sleepy, she usually objects to being snuggled up close in a sling.<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-2hR1td1-Em8/TzlSy-b29xI/AAAAAAAABQM/Ch-Hbck2V2s/s512/IMG_1435.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div><br />
Abby is also my first baby who actually nurses only when she is hungry. My other babies have nursed for comfort and to fall asleep, but if I try to nurse Abby too soon after her last feeding, she isn't interested and may even protest. She is a night owl, often staying awake until midnight or later, but I can't complain since she sleeps well for the rest of the night. Since she was born, there have only been a handful of nights when I had to actually get out of bed and walk with her in the wee hours of the night. In fact, in late December, she worked up from sleeping a five or six hour stretch in the Pack N Play bassinet to as many as eight or nine hours! Since we rearranged at the beginning of the year and she got a cold, her sleeping has not been quite so undisturbed. We got a rocking stand for her <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0013FQV5Y/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=lainhiar-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B0013FQV5Y">Moses Basket</a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=lainhiar-20&l=as2&o=1&a=B0013FQV5Y" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important;" />, which fits nicely in our new room, but I usually bring her into our bed at the first sign of nighttime fussing. Most of the time, she settles back to sleep quickly in the early morning hours, and sleeps in late enough that I can get up and complete most if not all of my workout before she opens her eyes around 9 or 10am. The Moses basket has also been great to keep in the bathroom, since Abby will usually lay there content, whether awake or asleep, while I take a shower. She may fuss later in the day, but I am always amazed at how good she is, even from an early age, while the shower is running!<br />
<br />
All of our babies have been given several nicknames, and Abigail is no exception. We typically refer to her as Abby, but Abs is common as well. For the first couple weeks, Don called her Peanut and I called her Sweetness. Donny called her Abby Apple because her tiny newborn head was the size of an apple! <br />
<br />
<div align="center"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-EdQ15pRq4Eo/TznqVeGcDaI/AAAAAAAABQ0/9XCljHuqVBk/s512/IMG_0980.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div><br />
Then I started calling her my Lovebug, and the name has evolved to include variations like Lovebuggy and LoveyBug. When she fusses, we call her Crabby Abby. And because Don and I spend are so familiar with Beachbody workouts, we occasionally give her fitness nicknames like <a href="http://teambeachbody.com/shop/-/shopping/HipHopAbs?referringRepId=128290">HipHop Abs</a>, Abra-gnome (named after the <a href="http://teambeachbody.com/shop/-/shopping/X2Base?referringRepId=128290">P90X2</a> Abrinome exercise), or my personal favorite, <a href="http://teambeachbody.com/shop/-/shopping/P90X?referringRepId=128290">Ab Ripper X</a>. Given her Ceserean birth, I think Ab Ripper is a very fitting name! Of course, she has also been called Lydia, Lyddie Bitty, or Lyds on (significantly) more than one occasion. I suggested early on that we recover from our confusion by calling her Li...ttle Abby. Whatever name we give her, it truly is a joy to now have two sweet little girls in our family!<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-zDguUpiMjqQ/TzlXcoguLVI/AAAAAAAABQo/fDP8pMTG65M/s512/IMG_1710.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div><br />
The 5 pound, 9 ounce newborn who was lost in her car seat is now over 12 pounds and holds her head up with pride. In the last couple weeks, she has started to laugh when tickled - or sometimes, just when we talk to her. I love her when she laughs at me or Daddy with her big gummy grin. She isn't always happy, but her crying usually means that she is wet, tired, or possibly hungry, and some loving attention can generally remedy the situation. I am looking forward to watching her personality unfold as she grows, but for now, I am happy to enjoy every smile and coo of the beautiful Abigail Joy.<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-irAh3N8Oiic/Tznu6bVjTgI/AAAAAAAABRA/Y3jP4mBVov8/s512/IMG_1568.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-37147634123133155992012-02-08T13:02:00.000-05:002012-02-08T22:03:03.526-05:00Wordless Wednesday: Crazy Happy Siblings<div align="center">I love these little people! <br />
I am so blessed to bask in their smiles every day.<br />
<br />
<img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-26rg4ah_f68/TzK2F5xerrI/AAAAAAAABPg/KsdJx3EuLwA/s512/IMG_1658.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /><br />
<i><br />
He will yet fill your mouth with laughter <br />
and your lips with shouts of joy.</i><br />
~ Job 8:21<br />
<br />
</div><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-50830413427146053742012-02-01T12:55:00.000-05:002012-02-01T12:55:08.207-05:00When Daddy Clears the Land<div align="center"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-O9t9Jzwg3HE/Tyl7wGVw63I/AAAAAAAABPM/eWTfBMBUxsk/s512/IMG_0755.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div><br />
It's late afternoon, and it's quiet in the house. I am alone with a happily nursing baby. The older three children are outside with Daddy while he does some yard work before the sun goes down. Suddenly, the door bursts open, and the loud wails of an unhappy seven year old echo down the hall. I assume some minor injury has brought about this obvious over-reaction, or perhaps the typical "so-and-so took my such-and-such." But no, this time Donny is in distress for a different reason.<br />
<br />
"Daddy is cutting down my favorite tree!" he cries. "MAKE HIM STOP!"<br />
<br />
The peace of the afternoon is shattered. I spend the next half hour attempting to calm, console, and explain the situation to my eldest child. Donny has a tendency to, well, over-react, and we generally try to discourage such unnecessary drama. At the same time, I don't want to brush off his concerns entirely. Several months ago, when a logging company came to clear the land next to our house, he had a similar day of distress over the felling of the trees. Though that is now forgotten, Daddy taking the chainsaw to a young oak in the yard has brought the tears rushing back. <br />
<br />
I attempt to explain that Daddy surely had a reason for cutting down the small sapling; we have to trust him. Even though Donny liked it, it wasn't his tree. It wasn't his choice. Daddy was trying to clear the land completely, and this oak was not part of his plans. We don't plan to live in this house forever, so eventually, we would be leaving it behind anyway. And really, truly, this is not such a big deal. It's just a tree.<br />
<br />
As I speak, I can't help but see how my advice applies to my own life. How often do I burst into literal or figurative tears over something that, in the grand scheme of things, really is trivial? A screaming baby, an angry spouse, noisy children who refuse to listen, a throbbing headache, my inability to conquer the laundry mountain - these moments can be for me what the chainsaw was to Donny. Compared to someone else's problem, they are nothing. But in the dusk of the moment, I want to cry out, "Make it stop!"<br />
<br />
Eventually, Daddy comes in, brushes the wood dust off his shirt, and sits down on the couch beside the now-calm boy. He explains why he cut down the small tree. In vivid strokes, he paints a picture of the yard he wants to create - a place of plush grass where the children can run and jump and play ball. To achieve the dream, the tree had to be sacrificed. <br />
<br />
Again, my heart is stirred with empathy. What dreams does my Father have for me that I am too small and foolish to understand? All my crying and complaining over my petty sorrows is so fruitless, and only blocks me from seeing what He is doing in my life. Sometimes to achieve it, pain must come. Things must die. Sin must be uprooted. And even if the problem seems miniscule to everyone else, it hurts. Yet my Father has a beautiful plan, if only I can look past the sticks and stumps of sorrow to see it.<br />
<br />
And so I pray that when the trials of life are crashing around me, and my own selfish sorrows threaten to overwhelm, may I curl up in the arms of my loving Father, and trust that He will work it out for good. Whether my difficulties are real or imagined, something better is coming. My Daddy loves me, and I trust that He knows best.<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><i>For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.</i> <br />
~ 2 Corinthians 4:17</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-74664831423418640092012-01-25T08:57:00.000-05:002012-02-03T22:27:06.717-05:00Pink Pants, Purple Pencils, and Who I Am in Christ<div align="center"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ZMxlhuO5bTs/TyAP0zsvuYI/AAAAAAAABOs/RNxN6u8esA0/s512/IMG_1639.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div><br />
I've been having a very minor identity crisis lately. Blame it on my abrupt <a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2012/01/all-things-new.html">attack on nearly every area of life</a>, but my generally introspective, perfectionistic self is in hyper self-examination mode right now. My hair, my clothes, my priorities, my diet, my time management, my spiritual life, my habits, my dresser drawers...you name it, and I'm thinking about how it is, how to make it better, and how it makes me who I am.<br />
<br />
Strangely, we tend to define ourselves by things that can change: our looks, our hobbies, our preferences. I find it interesting to realize how mine have evolved through the years. Ten years ago, I had just rebuilt my wardrobe of flare leg jeans after a few years of wearing gigantic (and by most standards, ridiculous looking) wide-leg jeans that dragged on the ground. In the past few years, I have been wearing skirts pretty much all the time. In recent months, I discovered yoga pants, and now I don't want to wear anything else. (My mom will tell you that I have always been this loyal to my own fashion and hairstyle trends...just ask about the turtlenecks of 5th and 6th grade!) <br />
<br />
<div align="center"><i>5th grade, year of turtlenecks and big hair bows</i><br />
<img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-PU7vzMgQDFo/TyAF2jBdO1I/AAAAAAAABM8/Gtn4NKlg3qo/s512/IMG_1637.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /></div><br />
I grew up being the girl who liked blue while my little sister had everything pink. In my teen years, I realized that I liked green just as much, and blue and green together were the best. This Crayola-combination is still one of my favorites, but recently, I've been a little obsessed with pink. Having a baby girl or two certainly helped, as did the gift from my husband of a distinctly girly pink-and-black gun. Then I requested a pink and black tool set, in hopes that Don would not steal (and consequently lose) my tools. (I was totally wrong about that, by the way - he always uses my tools now, because they come in such a handy and convenient tool case. He does put them back though!) Since then, I have acquired a bright pink camera, blow dryer, bow and arrow, tote bag, and bathrobe for my expanding collection of fun and feminine items. Oh, and I have two pairs of pink yoga pants!<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-TYWm_XHLPzM/TyAFkYC0UxI/AAAAAAAABMs/NnShATdS_9E/s512/IMG_1627.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div><br />
I could go on and on about how my quirks have changed to fit my husband's preferences and my own evolving life. Ten years ago I wouldn't touch red meat; now our favorite place to go is the Longhorn Steakhouse for the Flo's Filet. I ate a bowl of Breyer's every night until last summer, when I got hooked on <a href="http://myshakeology.com/1fitforhim">Shakeology</a> and haven't bought ice cream since. I thought guns were scary; now my husband suggests a date to the gun show and I respond with enthusiasm. I thought exercise was taking the stairs instead of the elevator; now I do hour-long workouts and lift heavy weights. I loved snuggling other people's babies. Now I still love babies, but I'm usually too busy holding my own to pick up any others. <br />
<br />
<div align="center"><i>This isn't my gun...not yet, anyway. ;)<br />
I was scoping out pink weapons at the gun show, <br />
and this AR was pretty cute!</i><br />
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpvznzojjs9xrtvFsLYB6oykZ57ADXHo3B3rUBWep7_086zGP8Y3-3rt8-pNXkryl2QOqxgZaARjXwAFEt3i0OK4dwNoNYsJatTXZo_hUJ1Teun5ghWl-l3W2ZSvet7ebZH4y4WxQfsBOE/s512/IMG_1573b.jpg" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div><br />
It is tempting to find my unique self-worth as a girl who loves pink (or green, or blue), and skirts (or jeans, or turtlenecks), and babies (yours, mine, or the unknown orphans in a foreign country). But I thank God that though the world sees only these external things, they are not what really count. Who am I to the Lord Jesus? He doesn't put me in categories like "homeschool mama," "wife who works out," or "pink girl." My value is not in my possessions or preferences or even my performance. It's in Him.<br />
<br />
Studying Ephesians has been really helpful with understanding this concept. I have a color-coded system (yes, another quirk) for how I underline verses in my (pink) Bible, and purple is the color for verses that answer the question, "Who am I in Christ?" <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=eph%201&version=NIV1984">Ephesians 1</a> is chock full of purple verses. I recommend that you read this whole passage, because if you are a believer, it applies to you too:<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><i>Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, <b>who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ</b>. For <b>he chose us</b> in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love <b>he predestined us to be adopted </b>as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. In him <b>we have redemption</b> through his blood, the <b>forgiveness</b> of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s <b>grace that he lavished on us</b> with all wisdom and understanding. And he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times will have reached their fulfillment—to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ.<br />
<br />
In him <b>we were also chosen, having been predestined</b> according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will, in order that we, who were the first to hope in Christ, might <b>be for the praise of his glory</b>. And you also were included in Christ when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation. Having believed, <b>you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit</b>, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession — to the praise of his glory. <br />
</i></div><br />
In Christ, I am chosen - predestined to be one of His own since before the foundation of the world. In Christ, I am forgiven - every ugly thought and word and deed is wiped clean. I was a slave to sin, but I am redeemed by His blood. I am not alone; I am adopted into His forever family. And in Christ, I have confidence, because I am sealed with the Holy Spirit. <br />
<br />
As fun as they may be, my pink pants do not make me special. I am special to God because He chose me to be His own. My true identity lies not in the colors of my wardrobe, but in the purple-lined verses that remind me: I can only find my true worth, satisfaction, and peace in the perfect love and saving work of Christ Jesus.<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><i>My favorite pink things</i><br />
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/--Pbm7cAzuMY/TyAJEwI5JPI/AAAAAAAABNw/f7Kg7TwctzE/s512/IMG_1166.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /><br />
<br />
This post is linked to:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://womenlivingwell.org/category/women-living-well-wednesdays/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i457.photobucket.com/albums/qq297/courtneylivingwell/LivingWell.png"></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.goodmorninggirls.org/"><img border="0" height="188" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPjMu8YIwNHK0MvQHQKuyICehRF2BpGbmJQf80Ud2oHWd3TnQ6TodIJ6rrxFQgmz6YKGs0rshdkL3tYnqgV85DiAuBAud1drWRM_LaWRIOo06lsX6L5t4y6_VGP-HCtA2ZyvZ0bG7EfKQd/s320/Women-In-the-Word.jpg" /></a></div><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-80254087707741696682012-01-22T23:45:00.000-05:002012-01-24T22:11:33.853-05:00Bass Pro Shops and More to Come<div align="center"><br />
<img src="http://goo.gl/photos/J9kXJCaK3o" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:1em"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-grg8x96Y32w/Txz3Ivz6ImI/AAAAAAAABJY/E20rskyu7RM/s512/IMG_1607.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /><br />
<br />
<i>...I will build you with stones of turquoise,<br />
your foundations with sapphires.<br />
I will make your battlements of rubies,<br />
your gates of sparkling jewels,<br />
and all your walls of precious stones.<br />
All your sons will be taught by the LORD,<br />
and great will be your children’s peace.<br />
In righteousness you will be established:<br />
Tyranny will be far from you;<br />
you will have nothing to fear.<br />
Terror will be far removed;<br />
it will not come near you.</i><br />
Isaiah 54:11-14</div><br />
It was a good weekend. A long ride on snowy roads with new tires and functional brakes. A trip to a new store that dazzled us with interesting items and decor. Children sleeping soundly in their beds. A great meal that I didn't have to cook or clean up, or (thanks to a gift card) even pay for.<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-siEV7p3Qr1E/Txz4Cob4EjI/AAAAAAAABKY/PY-LlbEIGZY/s512/IMG_1608.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /></div><br />
Intermixed in the adventures were many potential moments for conflict and distress. Frigid weather. Potty trips with fussy babies in tow. Being separated in the store with no working cell phone. Hungry children who still hadn't eaten dinner at bedtime. A waitress giving Donny's milk to Hayden - and the ensuing dash to find Benadryl at the closest convenience store. Sawing open the Benedryl liquid capsule with a Swiss Army knife. Huddling around a small table at Dunkin Donuts for a dinner of bagels instead of the family dining experience we had planned. Attempting to get to church on time. Rescheduling the dining experience only to have it interrupted by a crying baby. Baby crying all afternoon.<br />
<br />
But overall, I am counting this a great weekend. As we cruised along the quiet, snow-covered highway, Don and I actually got to talk without being interrupted, distracted, or interrupted again. We soaked up the delights of <a href="http://www.basspro.com/">Bass Pro Shops</a> in Foxboro, MA as gleefully as our children did. We came home with presents and pictures and memories. And I fell in love even more with the husband and father who handled the medical emergencies and interrupted meals and continual demands of four little people with grace, calmness, and self-control.<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-qXjHbrrEUQI/Txz7U0EDBRI/AAAAAAAABLM/RtF590QbcWQ/s512/IMG_1612.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /></div><br />
What really amazes me is that every good thing on this earth - cute camo shirts, singing children, smiling babies, tasty bowls of guacamole, digital cameras, new strollers, helpful husbands, great conversations, answered prayers - they are just a shadow of what is to come. God has so much in store for us. Heaven is going to be amazing in a way that puts our modern over-use of the word to shame. <br />
<br />
When we walked into Bass Pro Shops for the first time, it was overwhelming just to look around - in every direction there was something to see. Bears and foxes on the walls. A moose in front of us. Fish and turtles in the pond. Endless racks of camo gear. Giant boats and an enormous whale (which the boys insisted was probably made of cement) suspended from the ceiling. Knotty pine and spotlights everywhere. <br />
<br />
<div align="center"><i>Under the whale<br />
<img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-d71nsG5Maz0/Txz33R968VI/AAAAAAAABJ4/jSuvAL_1C_4/s512/IMG_1614.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /><br />
<br />
Will we win this? Not likely!</i><br />
<img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-T48ahNpCwmQ/Txz4K88Lh_I/AAAAAAAABK4/8AMMJdJeGIM/s512/IMG_1606.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /><br />
<br />
<i>Donny took this one:</i><br />
<img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/--tHGmgBqARE/Txz3_HPLPAI/AAAAAAAABKI/mrVpyLUBRG0/s512/IMG_1616.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div><br />
But heaven is going to be made not of pine and fur, but of gold and jewels! No one will cry, no one will go hungry, no one will be cold, and no one will be allergic to milk. Like children in a candy store (oh yes, they had lots of candy at Bass Pro Shops too!), we will be awestruck and delighted in a way that our feeble human minds cannot comprehend. I can't wait.<br />
<br />
I am so thankful for these little snippets of family fun that we can piece together into a collection of sweet memories. I am thankful for healthy children and a wonderful husband to raise them along with me. I am thankful for peaceful sleep whenever and wherever we find it. But most of all, I am thankful for the hope that there is so much more than this. Looking past the skyline, I can't see clearly, but I know there is something big and beautiful and infinitely beyond description or definition. We will have nothing to fear; there will just be peace. And it will be great.<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><i>(View out the window)</i><br />
<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Umm5v6vGo_g/Txz3yh_LvxI/AAAAAAAABJo/Uri0_K3bPhY/s512/IMG_1613.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;"/> </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-39376184337658663412012-01-18T00:26:00.000-05:002012-01-19T00:32:44.872-05:00Lavished with GraceIt is a busy season here, with so many <a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2012/01/all-things-new.html">new routines and activities</a>. But as I say to the strangers in the grocery store who exclaim, "You're busy!" when they see my cart-full of children, "Yes, but it's a good busy." And I am so thankful that one of my new busy things is the <a href="http://www.goodmorninggirls.org/">Good Morning Girls</a> group. Besides the wonderful (albeit virtual) fellowship with some dear sisters in Christ, I am finding precious blessings in making time daily to dig deeper into God's Word, pulling out each jewel of Scripture to examine it and delight in its beauty.<br />
<br />
The Ephesians study is perfect for me, because I actually started memorizing Ephesians a few years ago. I learned through somewhere in Chapter 2 before, sadly, I neglected my resolution. This year, I am hoping to resume memorizing one of my most-underlined books as I study a few verses each day and reflect on what God wants to say to me. Having His Word in my heart always yields blessings!<br />
<br />
Today we looked at Ephesians 1:7-10:<br />
<i>In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace, which he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. And he made known to us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times will have reached their fulfillment -- to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ.</i><br />
<br />
In these verses, I am struck by the luxury: the riches of God’s grace that He lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. According to <a href="http://www.blueletterbible.org/index.cfm">BlueLetterBible.org</a>, the Greek word translated “lavished” is <a href="http://www.blueletterbible.org/lang/lexicon/lexicon.cfm?Strongs=G4052&t=NIV"><i>perisseuō</i></a>, which can mean “to exceed a fixed number of measure, to be left over and above a certain number or measure” or “to make to abound.” It is used in Matthew 14 and 15 to refer to the basketfuls of bread that were left over after Jesus fed the crowds. A sub-definition of the second meaning is “to furnish one richly so that he has abundance.” <br />
<br />
When I think of words like this, I tend to think of material possessions, or even the blessings of health, family, and fellowship. But God says that what He lavished on us was grace - the forgiveness of sins that we have through the blood of Jesus. He didn't just give us what we need, carefully measuring a cup of grace for each sin. No, He poured it out, burying even the vilest of sinners in a shower of incredible forgiveness. What incredible luxury! <br />
<br />
The word is used several more times throughout the New Testament. For example:<br />
- <i>Then he said to them, "Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; a man's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions." </i>(Luke 12:15)<br />
- <i>How much more did God's grace and the gift that came by the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, overflow to the many! </i>(Rom. 5:15)<br />
- <i>the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause thanksgiving to overflow to the glory of God</i> (2 Cor. 4:15)<br />
- <i>their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity </i>(2 Cor. 8:2)<br />
- <i>And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work. </i>(2 Cor. 9:8)<br />
<br />
Abounding, overflowing, lavish grace: that is what the Lord God extended to me. Like silks and jewels overflowing a queen's treasury, I am blessed with so many riches that I simply cannot count - or contain - them. God's grace fills me, leaving an abundance left over to share with others. His forgiveness, His love, His joy, must trickle out from me as I realize how blessedly rich I am in Christ.<br />
<br />
Practically, how can I extend this grace to my children? How can I discipline when it is warranted without ceasing to pour out grace? How can I show them the great and amazing forgiveness of the Lord? How can I overcome headaches, tension, exhaustion, and sibling battles to overflow with goodness? Second Corinthians 9:8 promises that I will abound in every good work. Raising my children, loving my husband, keeping my home, studying God's Word - these are the good works He has given me in this season, and His overflowing grace WILL supply all that I need. I am so thankful for this refreshing reminder that I am a blessed recipient of the amazing, abundant, luxurious grace of God! <br />
<br />
And as one who has been forgiven with unmeasured grace, my role is to let it overflow, spilling and spreading God's beautiful grace all around me. May we all be overflowing vessels as we realize that our redemption through Christ's blood is the ultimate gift from a lavishly generous Father.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-90314148388959101512012-01-13T22:27:00.001-05:002012-01-19T00:38:55.373-05:00All Things New<div align="center"><i>“Forget the former things;<br />
do not dwell on the past.<br />
See, I am doing a new thing!"</i><br />
Isaiah 43:18-19a</div><br />
Happy New Year! I hope to be able to blog more in 2012, but so many new things are keeping me busy that I rarely have a spare moment at the computer. There's the new baby, of course, who has been keeping hands occupied for three sweet months now. And Don starting a new job meant more transitions for our family. Since he can set his own hours, he has been leaving home extra early in order to beat the rush hour traffic. The trade-off for his pre-dawn disappearance is that we get to spend time with him in the afternoon. Of course, now that he is working outside the home and I have errands and children's activities to get to, we also needed a second vehicle. <br />
<br />
For a few weeks, we pondered the many options: an expensive new commuter car, a cheap old car that may break down, a bigger family vehicle so that Don could take the van (which we own), buying him a truck that could also be used for trash-hauling and hunting trips, leasing something, and so on. Meanwhile, our dear friends were also in the process of preparing for a new job. Jared's new position as a youth pastor at a church in Kansas meant that he and Laura would be moving halfway across the country, and they didn't want to drive both of their vehicles out there, so they planned to sell their Chrystler Sebring convertible. Though we didn't know much about the car, it seemed like a clear sign to us that we should buy from our friends who needed to sell - the transaction would benefit both of our families as the husbands started their new jobs. As it turned out, Jared and Laura needed to use the car up until a certain Friday, and the very first day that Don needed to drive to work was the following Monday - AND we were already going to Jared and Laura's house for their going-away party that very weekend! As if that wasn't enough, we expressed interest in buying the car before we knew how much it was worth. Meanwhile, Jared had prayerfully set the price tag at $2000. Ever since Don and I paid off our van, we have been setting a certain amount of money aside each month in an ING account called "New Car Savings." In December, we had over $1900 in the account, and on January 1st, the total would have topped $2000! I love when God works things out right to the last penny to answer our prayers. And even though it's not a brand new pickup truck or gas-saving hybrid supercar, Don is actually enjoying his new vehicle. My cold-hating husband was even caught driving home from work with the top down on a 50 degree December day!<br />
<br />
There have been changes at home, too. Now that we no longer need to use one bedroom as an office, our growing family can fill our three bedrooms instead of cramming into two. While in the process of changing the office to a girls' room, we ripped out the nasty old carpet and had new carpet installed. The night before it arrived, when excess furniture and miscellaneous stuff was cluttering every room in order to leave the office completely empty, my husband (after chatting with his mother) suggested an even better idea: the newly carpeted room could be our room. The girls could have the boys' room. And the boys, and all of their toys, could have the oversize room we've been using as a master bedroom/nursery. We just hit the three year mark in this house (twice as long as we've lived anywhere else!), so it was fun (though temporarily chaotic) to change things up a bit. We are all very happy with the new set up, so when I get a chance, I'll share some pictures. I also got, after a long wait for the rescheduled delivery and a few frustrating phone calls, a brand new front loading washer. It may seem silly, but after having a very basic washing machine for five years, I am so excited about all the different cycles! It is especially nice for washing diapers. Instead of running up and down the basement stairs three times to prewash, wash, and rinse, I can just set a long sanitize cycle and forget about it until everything is clean. What a blessing!<br />
<br />
The household rearranging was completed just in time to start our new school year this week. Since we started First Grade last January and finished in November after schooling straight through the summer, it is time to move on to second grade. I am excited about using the <a href="http://www.mfwbooks.com/category/M50/40#Adventures">My Father's World Adventures</a> curriculum since we have had such good experiences with their Kindergarten and First Grade programs. This year we will be learning about the 50 states, American history, and the names of Jesus related to our science studies. We're looking forward to a great year! In addition to homeschool, visits with grandparents, and continuing to get together with friends for Lego building time, we will also be making weekly trips to the gym. Hayden had his first gymnastics class last week and loves it already! His gymnast Daddy is thrilled, of course, and Lydia can't wait until she is big enough to join a class too!<br />
<br />
Don and I are keeping up our own physical fitness with a brand new workout program called <a href="http://www.teambeachbody.com/workout-routines/p90x2?referringRepId=128290">P90X2</a>. Beachbody's P90X extreme fitness program is well known for yielding great results, so we hope that this sequel will do the same. Don has done P90X a few times, and I completed it myself at the end of 2010 (one of the reasons I wasn't blogging then - it's very time consuming!). It is difficult to squeeze in hour-long workouts with a new baby and three loud children who alternate between wanting to join the workout and sabotaging it with their demands ("Can I <i>please</i> have one raisin?"), but I love the results of a challenging exercise program. Don also wanted to follow the diet program, so I have been carefully meal planning and calorie counting for him. (Since I'm nursing and don't need to lose weight, I am not worried about the number of calories I eat, but I am trying to avoid the pile of Christmas candy in the cupboard!) And between buying new workout programs and Don and I both drinking Beachbody's <a href="http://myshakeology.com/1fitforhim">Shakeology®</a> daily, I concluded that it was worth signing up to be an Independent Team Beachbody Coach, both to get a discount ourselves, and to be able to share these products with others. We were already telling people how much we love certain products, and now we can send them to my <a href="http://beachbodycoach.com/esuite/home/1fitforhim#">Beachbody site</a> to learn more about the workout programs, nutritional supplements, and online tools that Beachbody offers. <br />
<br />
Finally, I had been thinking and praying about finding a group of other women with whom I could meet for prayer, encouragement, and accountability, when the Lord graciously introduced me to <a href="http://www.goodmorninggirls.org/">Good Morning Girls</a>. Since Good Morning Girls is a form of online accountability for having daily quiet time, it is perfect for moms like me who may not be able to get to Bible studies and prayer groups outside of the home. A group of my local young mom friends and I have committed to hold each other accountable to grow daily with God, and we'll be emailing each other every weekday to encourage one another and share what we are learning. I am looking forward to getting to know these wonderful ladies better, and to see how God will use our group for His glory! I will also be participating in the free Ephesians Bible Study offered by Good Morning Girls. If you don't already have a daily time set aside with God, I encourage you carve out a few minutes of your day, join me in this study, and invite others to hold you accountable. I know God will bless us for being faithful to Him!<br />
<br />
And lest you start to suspect that I am some kind of wondermom, able to embark on a myriad of new adventures without batting an eye, you should know that there is a basket of clean laundry that has been sitting in my bedroom for so long that the boys have been shopping for clean clothes in there every morning. There are piles of clutter resulting from the bedroom switcheroo (and ensuring closet switcheroo) that are driving me crazy, and I haven't baked bread (which I used to do weekly) for a year. I can't do it all, but I can do that which God has given me for this season with His help and His grace, and I am so thankful for the many new blessings and opportunities He has already given me this year. By His strength, I am excited to dive into 2012!<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-VJ2z0CskbyY/TxerpY1uHxI/AAAAAAAABJQ/8SHFw-BiKHU/s512/IMG_1538.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-39345575784799340952011-12-28T16:13:00.000-05:002011-12-28T16:13:12.590-05:00Wordless Wednesday: The Cheeks at 10 Weeks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNKdgK2LwNK8Ok01rsYUtHkz6FDxThz8lDqOsfyNC2bhkvhWX6xMVQVxjrPeVd6MLEpv-C-q5xwq2m74vPBAzID34yGFCSois7gFyJ4FYGDuBvN1VAOMrzRs8djcSBc3T5iaJALNo1soIx/s1600/cheeksat10weeks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNKdgK2LwNK8Ok01rsYUtHkz6FDxThz8lDqOsfyNC2bhkvhWX6xMVQVxjrPeVd6MLEpv-C-q5xwq2m74vPBAzID34yGFCSois7gFyJ4FYGDuBvN1VAOMrzRs8djcSBc3T5iaJALNo1soIx/s320/cheeksat10weeks.jpg" /></a></div> <br />
<div align="center">(Can't tell who's who? <a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2009/09/wordless-wednesday-name-those-cheeks.html">Here's</a> a hint!)<br />
<br />
<i>Your cheeks are beautiful...</i><br />
~ Song of Songs 1:10a</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-71612833490470103322011-12-22T21:28:00.000-05:002011-12-22T21:29:25.207-05:00Christmas Card 2011<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8u3_yo-g_JFPirUJ7yTusvZ4C6yRzXetZIKs174txRZZJCCcsBp3BZ081IJu7yOuIokos1CGXZ5sxxnDIyZFyCz8RUJAOWct0YZAnhEzIh9kn0OG5PDhx0Mr67pmoatUoFz7LADo2Tzdu/s1600/ChristmasCard2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="225" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8u3_yo-g_JFPirUJ7yTusvZ4C6yRzXetZIKs174txRZZJCCcsBp3BZ081IJu7yOuIokos1CGXZ5sxxnDIyZFyCz8RUJAOWct0YZAnhEzIh9kn0OG5PDhx0Mr67pmoatUoFz7LADo2Tzdu/s400/ChristmasCard2011.jpg" /></a></div><div align="center"><i>(Click image to enlarge)</i></div><br />
Dear friends and family,<br />
<br />
It is hard to believe that another year has gone by already. As most of you know, we spent half of this year <a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2011/06/musings-on-waiting-or-no-we-havent-sold.html">trying to sell our house</a> and move to Arizona, but <a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2011/08/closed-door.html">God had other plans for us</a>. Don and Manda spent a long weekend there in July, checking out the incredibly cheap houses and loving the dry, sunny Phoenix weather. We had several showings of our house here, but in the current market, we were unable to sell for more than we owe. Then, two months after taking our house off the market, Don got an unexpected job interview at a local company. Several weeks later, the job was his. We do still hope to move to a newer home with more than one bathroom, but for now at least, it looks like we will be staying in New England.<br />
<br />
While Don certainly had many benefits while working from home (including being a one-car family and working in his jammies), we are excited about his potential for professional growth as he moves into software development at the new company. And while it will be an adjustment to say goodbye to Daddy in the mornings after having him around all the time, it also means the children don't have to whisper and tiptoe whenever Daddy is on the phone. In addition, Don has recently started working part time at yet another local gym. His love for gymnastics keeps bringing him back to the sport, and we are hoping to sign the children up for gymnastics classes soon, too.<br />
<br />
Besides the excitement of house shopping and a family vacation to Disney World and <a href=="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2011/05/reflections-on-clearwater.html">Clearwater Beach</a>, FL in April, we also found out that we were <a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2011/03/wordless-wednesday-this-year.html">expecting a new baby this year</a>! On <a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2011/10/perfect-10.html">October 10</a>, we welcomed sweet Abigail Joy to our family. She was born by <a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2011/10/fathers-joy-not-vbac-story.html">repeat Cesarean section</a> weighing 5 pounds and 9 ounces. Her siblings adore their baby sister and ask for a turn holding her throughout the day. At two months old now, she is smiling and cooing more, and her skinny newborn body is filling out with delightful baby plumpness. She is a great nurser and, for a newborn, a good sleeper. We are so thankful to have another beautiful, healthy baby!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2011/06/how-to-know-your-little-girl-is.html">Lydia</a> is now two and a half years old. She wants to do whatever her brothers are doing, whether it's playing outside or doing schoolwork at the kitchen table. She often asks Mumma, "What can I do to help you?" and when she sees you for the first time, she'll tell you, "I have a sister Abby!" She is quite possessive of her "Baby Abby" and nearly smothers little Abigail with kisses, hugs, and (sometimes very loud) songs. <br />
<br />
Hayden is five years old and has already finished first grade! When we started first grade homeschool in January with Donny, we decided to include Hayden as well, and he has kept up amazingly well given his young age. He has beautiful handwriting and often surprises us with his understanding of math concepts. He loves anything that Daddy does: guns, weapons, working out, video games, etc. He is often quiet in new situations, but if you give him a few minutes, he'll be happy to flex his muscles for you!<br />
<br />
Donny just turned seven and continues to be our talkative, imaginative scientist. He is interested in everything science-related (animals, outer space, rocks) but also loves geography, history, and crafts. Because of his ongoing love of building Lego creations, we have been participating in a Junior Lego League this fall, where he works with a team of other young boys to solve a challenge using Lego pieces. After spending the summer being terrified of bugs, he has overcome his aversion to the outdoors and now loves playing outside in our yard. In their spare time, the boys have both enjoyed playing Angry Birds (a video game they play on Don's phone) and mastering the card game Uno.<br />
<br />
Don has taken up bowhunting this fall, but so far, all the deer seem to be in people's backyards instead of the woods. Manda <a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2011/09/kittery-trading-post-septemberfest.html">got a bow and arrows</a> of her own (pink, of course) since she wasn't able to practice shooting her (also pink) handgun, due to being pregnant for ¾ of the year. We continue to host a College and Career Bible study for young adults, and Don has also been teaching the teen Sunday School class at church. Manda still loves being a full-time mom, homeschooling the boys, and spending these precious days with her little girls. We are both thankful for the ways God has been at work in our lives this year, and look forward to seeing what He has in store for us next! <br />
<br />
We pray that you, too, will see the Lord's hand at work as we celebrate the Savior's birth this Christmas season. May He bless your family with a Merry Christmas and a joyful New Year!<br />
<br />
Love,<br />
<br />
Don, Manda, Donny, Hayden, Lydia, and Abby ~ 2011<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-56716919620605784592011-12-01T23:42:00.001-05:002011-12-02T21:41:09.743-05:00And Most of All, For HimDespite the festive lights glowing around our living room, today was a rather ugly day. The toddler was whiny and drippy-nosed, the baby fussed and hardly napped, the boys bickered, the mom got frustrated, and everyone cried. Screams of anger and pain punctuated the day when one boy hit his brother with a stick, and then when said boy received retribution from a ricocheting rock launched by said brother. We read devotionals, discussed verses, and added an ornament to our Jesse tree as we remembered the faith of Abraham, but my feeble attempts to bring focus seemed in vain. Even with Bible open on our laps, the children were kicking, sitting on each other, pulling my hair, and daydreaming. <br />
<br />
As I wearily tucked them into bed, I was tempted toward discouragement, but remembered: <a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2011/08/mission-field-in-my-yard.html">this is a mission field</a>. And walking into a room of rowdy, disobedient children to give the gospel - with gentleness and love - was my mission. It is easy, sometimes, to speak God's truth, but so much harder to demonstrate. This morning, we read, <i>Let us love not with words or speech, but with actions and in truth</i> (1 John 3:18). And then we all failed, at nearly every opportunity, to show love to each other. Hearts were hard and tears were many. If nothing else, ugly days reveal my shortcomings to remind me how much I need a Savior, and that nothing matters more in parenting than showing my little ones the Savior's love.<br />
<br />
We have been busy lately, as most families are this time of year: celebrating the boys' birthdays, enjoying Thanksgiving feasts with aunts and uncles, baking gingerbread men with Grandma, and decorating for Christmas. In the coming weeks, our schedule will continue to be full of fun and festive activities as we skip through the merry month of December. Yet in the midst of tracing paper hand turkeys and leftover pumpkin pie, the Lord impressed this on my heart:<br />
<br />
I am sinful. My husband and children are too. Not just in some vague, "I'm a sinner" way, but in dark, ugly specifics that we seldom admit and may not even realize. Pride, selfishness, the lust of the eyes and of the flesh - they lie dormant in our hearts, periodically manifesting in both subtle and not-so-subtle ways. Yet God, knowing every wicked thought of our wayward hearts, still sent His Son to die for us. I am so blessed with my family, my home, the opportunity to teach my children, the abundance of food and clothing and other material comforts - but this all pales in comparison to God's grace in forgiving my sin. Of all I have to be thankful for, nothing can compare to the love God poured out on me by sending Jesus.<br />
<br />
Dear friends, if you have never heard this truth, or if you have heard it a thousand times, but the good news is drowned out by cheering football fans and red-nosed reindeer tunes, let me tell you this:<br />
<br />
Christmas is for all of us, because we all need a Savior. Without Him, we are trapped in the wretched darkness of our own sin. It is only through His light that we can truly live. His blessings are abundant, and there are so many gifts for which to thank Him each day, but in the end, earthly treasures rust, and the world's festive pleasures pass away. Jesus himself is all that really matters, and our only hope for salvation.<br />
<br />
For those who know Him, let the holidays remind us to share the light of the One who saved us. We can twinkle with joy through ugly days and dark hours like tiny bulbs on the strand that lights up the tree, emanating light to friends, to strangers, and to the little ones who dance around us in the living room. And as we delight in every meal and gift and yuletide merriment, let us give thanks, most of all, for the One called Jesus, who saves us from our sins.<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Xv238O_pAgH4JhSbiml3QZbu9I6gcr3FJ55SjGVTZmosBqZQWzrM1Sb-CiQHKCM45uKt9NpXjSFYexF60rmzCfwnDxjhDkpvdKEOUTtnYinzv1BJAPCEvXTqvH8Tm4Ya3quuuLW6recd/s512/IMG_1325.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-11357611162004942412011-11-10T22:41:00.000-05:002011-11-12T21:09:02.643-05:00A Little Thankful ThursdayIt's November, the time of year when even the secular world pauses to count their blessings and pin "I'm thankful for" feathers on a paper turkey. I have heard many wonderful ideas of ways to share our thankfulness, from a Thanksgiving Tree to dropping slips of paper in a box (to be read aloud at Thanksgiving dinner) to posting one thankful item per day on Facebook. In my college years, my sisters and I created a thankful poster each November, and all of the family members jotted down blessings - from salvation to sugar cookies - to add to the poster. Then when Donny and Hayden were in kindergarten, which finished last November, they created a page for their Blessings Books every Thursday. They would draw a picture of something they were thankful for, I would help them spell the word, and the sheet of paper was tucked inside a sheet protector in a 3-ring binder. <br />
<br />
While the boys were hard at work on these precious keepsakes, I would pick up my own notebook and jot a few bullet notes of things I was thankful for that week. Sadly, since we finished kindergarten, both the children and I have often neglected to thank God for both the small and large gifts we receive each day. But tonight, in a rare moment of quiet, I picked up my long-forgotten notebook and quickly filled a page with a few of the ways God has blessed me recently. Here is my list. When you finish reading, grab a piece of paper or open a new text document and start your own!<br />
<br />
Tonight I am thankful for...<br />
<ul><li>a warm, cozy home</li>
<li>chicken soup on a rainy day</li>
<li>sweet sleepy newborn noises</li>
<li>being blessed with Abigail Joy on 10/10</li>
<li>an easier C-section recovery than last time</li>
<li>surviving the first trip to the grocery store with all four children</li>
<li>the lady in line behind me saying, "Can I just tell you, you are the most calm mother! And your children are so well-behaved!"</li>
<li>a small opportunity to witness when the cashier agreed with her and asked, "What do you do different?"</li>
<li>knowing that anything good in me or our family is only by His grace</li>
<li>the fun anticipation surrounding birthdays, Thanksgiving, and Christmas</li>
<li>having the resources to bless children around the world by participating in <a href="http://www.samaritanspurse.org/index.php/OCC/">Operation Christmas Child</a></li>
<li>my husband's new job that will allow him to grow professionally and (hopefully) ease his stress</li>
<li>God's continual financial provision as our family grows</li>
<li>a few moments of quiet while everyone else sleeps to sense the Lord's presence and bask in His love<br />
<li>knowing that I serve a very big God!<br />
</li><br />
</ul><div align="center"><i>So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness. </i> – Colossians 2:6-7</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-31353429760607518332011-10-31T23:31:00.000-04:002011-11-01T09:49:34.682-04:00Wacky Weather<div align="center"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_qb-3xKn9ZP4HXNYiTGkD8qYyNVHevza1CP53CbuXp1zR-Fcb9LtNvGl47_dhf-CEQB6w7rqfIt5f7d5cP5Ob_UuMI8fSVC42bEhrR6JmoaGN_3b3sZJg4GMAh5TqJGnXsIt64h-7PAeh/s512/IMG_1062.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div><br />
Living in the northeast, we certainly see a variety of weather. The saying, "If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes," is only a slight exaggeration. Traditionally, winter is cold and snowy, spring is warmer and rainy, summer is hot and sunny, and fall is crisp and cool. Around here, however, exceptions to this rule abound, and often the weather changes so drastically from one day to the next that one never really knows how to dress without first stepping outside. I remember how it rained almost every day of the June when Lydia was born - not exactly your typical hot and sunny summer weather. Snow usually starts in December, but there was a winter when it didn't snow until mid- January, and then a couple years ago, we had some unusual <a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2009/10/seasons.html">snow flurries in October</a>. But as far as I can remember, this month wins the prize for strangest and most extreme weather conditions.<br />
<br />
It started the weekend before Abby was born. I was preparing for my upcoming C-section when my mom called and asked me to pack the kids' bathing suits. Since she lives on a lake, this would be a normal request in summer, but it was already too chilly for swimming on Labor Day. Yet that Sunday, after a hot Saturday, the temperature reached a near-record 85 degrees. The thermometer stayed in 80's on Abigail's birthday, but by the time we returned home later that week, things had cooled off - and it was raining. Usually October is my favorite month for weather in New England: blue skies, crisp cool air, sunshine, and beautiful colored leaves. This year, Indian summer turned to spring as we had two weeks of clouds, wind, and rain. Instead of crunchy leaves to step on, the ground has been soggy. I'm not sure where my favorite season went, but we seem to have skipped it altogether, because this weekend, it was winter.<br />
<br />
On Thursday night, just as we were putting the boys and Lydia to bed, I looked out the window and exclaimed, "Is that snow?!" Sure enough, huge chunky flakes of white were falling from the October sky. We called the children to peer out into the dark at the first snowfall of the season, and it was piling up quickly - in fact, Don stepped outside and easily scooped up enough to make a few snowballs and hurl them at the giggling children behind the glass slider door. By morning, it had started to melt, but the sight left behind was certainly strange: snow on the ground with green leaves on the trees.<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbZlYSr_sUfViC_g9fFgM1aREzoqnvjrLUh0hprlTq1Mz7NUCKZLHvgMlWTuoMcx8MfkNTFXqMhShfSeXiMsfAkFa491GaFqBOvYjvjEu1CO-xaM8phFbOYlepjUKrHmvDNR37BfKkO525/s512/IMG_1063.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /></div><br />
As if that wasn't strange enough, Saturday's forecast called for 6 to 10 inches of snow. Don didn't believe it (and truly, the meteorologists are seldom correct in our experience), but as soon as we arrived at our friends' house (an hour away) for a birthday party, the flakes started to fall. By the time we left late that evening, there were at least six inches accumulated on their porch. Others had called to warn us that there was almost no visibility on the highway. The roads were barely plowed. The brakes in our van need to be replaced. And Abby was crying. The adventure had begun.<br />
<br />
Thankfully, my husband is a great driver, even in the worst of conditions. We knew that there would be many cars off the road - there always are during the first snowstorm, for some reason - but we were chugging along safely with my confident chauffeur at the wheel. Abby fell asleep in a few minutes, and not long after, the older children did too. The sky was bright with snowclouds, yet it was strangely dark. Stores, gas stations, and even hotels sat in eerie darkness while snow piled up around them. They had no power - which meant neither did the street lights. Or the traffic lights. We cruised through several blackened lights and hoped we wouldn't miss the sign for the highway, since many of the roadsigns were covered with snowdrifts. Eventually we were on the highway, following in the tire tracks while the lines were buried.<br />
<br />
An hour long car ride in good weather becomes quite a bit longer in snow, and just a bit too long for a newborn's patience. As we slowly neared our exit, passing a pile-up of cars in the breakdown lane surrounded by blue flashing lights, Abby woke up crying. Talking, singing, and letting her suck my finger had no effect, and her cries eventually escalated into full-fledged screams of distress, which certainly weren't helping my skilled driver pay attention to the road. Since we live in the day and age of seatbelt laws, I won't go into details of how it was accomplished, but eventually Abby was comforted, and we all arrived home safely to our very dark and quiet house. Our power was out, too.<br />
<br />
We lit candles and tucked the children in with extra blankets. I am very thankful to have town water, because we at least had running water while we lacked heat and electricity. Abby wouldn't fall asleep, so I sat in the office and rocked her, looking out the snow covered trees. The next morning, the house was a frosty 56 degrees and the yard was littered with fallen branches.<div align="center"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeiXaAKAjUyJqWuoy58g91_kbiRf8Dr-lre2U7RQxIAz2gHcInDnHHtbmOesFZi6FhuXoo8ViH0iz3SMGkwTFlgR46r8saQGzvpmXkWnPPB2ug9OmIoPvDHvAfdx8w9ym00hsQo1a-vYEd/s512/IMG_1073.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div>I realized why the trees had looked so strange the night before: normally, snow falls on bare branches. Never before have I seen trees covered in green leaves and snow at the same time! And the weight of snow-covered leaves had caused massive damage throughout the region, taking down power lines and obstructing roads. We were very fortunate to have our power back by lunch time on Sunday. While many even in our town waited another 24 hours or more for electricity, we were without it for just long enough to truly appreciate the luxuries of electric heat, hot showers, and warm drinks.<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><i>All bundled up</i><br />
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVUfAjrqeyzMNflHcLk8mqavbRGV8JYGMwkkkQ74f7gDqexzvwcHuUBxZOw75y1zOdH2dr7iGlWCrgmEAEL-PSj63KtMsmaNIVeumQ4iowlfgx5GPv9WaBhQu2I5TLF7ieZbN1CUL9r_WY/s512/IMG_1076.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /></div><br />
Sweet Abigail is just three weeks old and blissfully unaware of what happens outside her window, but if she could remember it, she would have quite a story to tell her grandchildren. In less than a month, she has lived through all four seasons of weather (except, perhaps, the one we're supposed to be experiencing) and survived a potentially dangerous trip through an unusual snowstorm. For those of us old enough to understand, this October's wacky weather has been a chance to remember the One who reigns over the skies and the seasons. Tonight I am thanking the Lord for His protection, His providence, and His power to control the forces of nature - in any way He chooses!<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><i>See, the Lord, the LORD Almighty,<br />
will lop off the boughs with great power.<br />
The lofty trees will be felled,<br />
the tall ones will be brought low. </i><br />
Isaiah 10:33</div><br />
<div align="center"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWKk1vIGN_xj1bs_AYmJ3TzK-snUgqJBjv0ZcFPzyaJZ24yJKn6wz2K-fsPrms3Qt25BoZ7LqeNF2ScXQP9ZNh9MgKBapCyG4thU7HuunP4o417rF5QbhdE1AQ9qpm05xil6K7KPmXZJbp/s512/IMG_1064.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-59367043506800264842011-10-26T19:53:00.000-04:002011-10-26T19:53:27.566-04:00Wordless Wednesday: Sleep Smiles<div align="center"><IMG src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtTiM2Km4eWpGwL8N3_7TEhsgOF3CEyoaW2bknV-rBpqOTKLTqJNtDZA6SDzHM5LSVVQa3BRHUPemudo3wBWwCTHNBWPdSDaYfX1wkMGqOjiXeQVDEJl1SBNIcRFLJx9puuvMTw1Lc_GCt/s512/IMG_1052.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /><br />
<i><br />
When you lie down, you will not be afraid; <br />
when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.</i><br />
Proverbs 3:24</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-30757048972970905042011-10-25T21:47:00.000-04:002011-10-26T20:27:08.468-04:00Blog Bash 2011<a href="http://womenlivingwell.org/category/blog-bash-2011/" target="_blank"><img src="http://womenlivingwell.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/BlogBash2011-final.jpg"></a><br />
<br />
Tonight I am joining in The Ultimate Blog Bash 2011 hosted by <a href="http://womenlivingwell.org/">Women Living Well Ministries</a>, so if you are visiting for the first time, welcome! And to my regular reader(s), please bear with me as I introduce myself, my family, and my reason for blogging.<br />
<br />
My name is Manda, or at least that's what I prefer to be called, though relatives and doctors continue to put a capital A at the beginning. I have been married to my dear Donald (generally referred to as Don, though I actually never, ever call him that) for seven and a half years, and we are looking forward to celebrating our second anniversary in February. (Yes, you read that correctly. Did you figure out when we got married?) He and I are opposites in many ways, which has made our relationship challenging at times, but I am ever thankful that the God of grace has helped us <a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2009/02/five-years-of-faithfulness.html">stay together</a> through our mutual faith in Him. I am blessed to have a partner in life who loves the Lord and desires to lead our family in His ways. I am always learning from my husband, too, since he is an expert on computers, gymnastics, guns, hunting, fitness, politics, a myriad of science topics, and, umm...video games. It is his visionary and adventurous personality that leads us to dream up what I used to refer to as "our latest life plan of the week." We are always considering moving or changing careers, and of course we keep things interesting by adding new members to the family every few years.<br />
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<div align="center"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Mm8W90d1A7w/Tqdi91k4AgI/AAAAAAAABDE/9hLpTL8yaEM/s512/Manda%252520045.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 220px;" /><br />
<i>My handsome husband and me</i></div><br />
All of our children have been given to us in God's perfect timing, and by allowing Him to plan and space them, He has so far blessed with a pretty perfect blend. Donny (technically Donald the Third) will be 7 in December, Hayden will be 5 in November, Lydia turned 2 in June, and Abigail Joy was just <a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2011/10/fathers-joy-not-vbac-story.html">born this month</a>. I am privileged to homeschool our boys, and since I have been teaching them together, both of them are just about to finish the <a href="http://www.mfwbooks.com/">My Father's World</a> First Grade curriculum. Lydia doesn't realize that she is only two; she wants to do whatever her brothers are doing, whether it's writing with a pencil or reading a book. Now that she is a big sister, she showers "Baby Abby" with hugs, kisses, and general lovey smothering. Little Abigail is a typical newborn, existing to nurse, sleep, cry, and melt our hearts with her tiny sweetness. I am so thankful to be a mother. God's Word says that children are blessings, and though they may be loud and messy and annoying at (most) times, I know it is a great honor and a wonderful responsibility to train these little ones up to know and love the Lord!<br />
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<div align="center"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_qMItSNLao7Yh7oiyQ1quqmfEbClPXZr1OBubLKWW0PytvdHIOPqB7H7lV2B6uOZbc92E5JKYV5x_aKkJDs6hVg_2DGVGSItWajAjbCN2_zGb8P-syIDjlm02yxASNbKjgY3Xk9846nre/s512/IMG_1348.jpg" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /><br />
<i>Our four gifts from God</i></div><br />
Being a wife, mother, and homemaker is my dream job, but it is also full of challenges that would be overwhelming were it not for the grace of God. He is my strength, my hope, and the reason that my routine domestic life has any value in eternity. When I started blogging back in 2008, I was inspired by one of my favorite verses, Isaiah 40:11:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq"><i>He tends his flock like a shepherd: <br />
He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; <br />
he gently leads those that have young.</i> </blockquote><br />
I love this picture as the Lord as my Shepherd, tenderly caring for me, and gently leading me as I strive to raise my little lambs for Him. We are so blessed to be carried close to the heart of a loving Father! With this in mind, I strive to keep my blog centered on Christ and the inspiration of His Word. You will find lots of tidbits about our family's experiences and my personal struggles, but woven throughout, I pray you will see a testimony of what God is doing in my life, to mold me into the person He created me to be, as I daily walk through the fields of life with my Shepherd.<br />
<br />
Thanks for stopping by, and please feel free to leave me a comment and say hello!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-66236233037604927752011-10-22T15:11:00.000-04:002011-10-23T10:35:39.376-04:00An Honest Look at the Postpartum Period<div align="center"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ESuMvrPreKCEF4-6qrzxHGx-I_4xufwKpfZBlA37U_C3bNPf89wPg-GQnMg-q_4MvSIdSwF-q7gjFCpVpMe-czOu06PYe0wf_B3Ki1GUuqbgZUnm1r-LBFlrXtGby0GjLqpcIcDgwN-r/s512/IMG_1046.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div><br />
Postpartum: of or noting the period of time following childbirth. It is a time of change and adjustment, a time of ups and downs, a time of all things new, yet full of predictable sameness. It can be ugly, and it can be beautiful and special and wonderful at the same time.<br />
<br />
It is a difficult time to get dressed. Nothing fits quite right: maternity clothes hang limp, while regular clothes are too tight, and the little bulge that was cute to show off at four months pregnant is not so cute when it's no longer a baby. Thanks to nursing, shirts are too tight and too short, and nursing pads become a required part of getting dressed if one wants to avoid embarrassing leaks. At times my body feels like a leaky, dripping mess all over. Other times, I find a cute nursing tank top or an early pregnancy shirt that actually fits, and I feel comfortable for a little while.<br />
<br />
Without the structured demands of homeschooling and regular chores and outings, the days at home are long. Accomplishments for the day are generally limited to showering, making the bed, and feeding everyone something with a shred of nutrition every few hours. (Who says leftover mashed potatoes and peanut butter spoons aren't a meal?) Left to their own devices, the older children are - at best - zoned out in front of PBS, and at worst, dumping out every puzzle piece and train track while they rearrange the living room and argue over who had it and who did it. The baby routine consists of constant nursing, burping, changing, and consoling between unpredictable naps. When the older ones are finally tucked in bed, baby time continues, with moments of sweet snuggles intermixed with wide-awake 4am cries and occasionally pacing a cold tile floor while the rest of house sleeps. Sleep is often broken, and filled with vivid and bizarre dreams. Yet some precious afternoons include naps with newborn and perhaps toddler cuddled close beside. <br />
<br />
Emotions are messy. Delight over the gift of a new life mixes with fatigue and frustration. I get choked up reading <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0060586753/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=lainhiar-20&linkCode=as2&camp=217145&creative=399369&creativeASIN=0060586753"><i>The Giving Tree</i></a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=lainhiar-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0060586753&camp=217145&creative=399369" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important;" /> to my children. I fall in love with my baby's coos and contented sighs. I take my husband's off-hand comments personally, but treasure our (often-interrupted) times of closeness. Some moments seem insurmountably painful, while in others, I realize that I am abundantly blessed<br />
<br />
The camera is always close at hand for capturing the sweet sibling moments and first hints of smiles. After all, with the exception of her three older siblings, this is surely the cutest baby in the universe, and these early days must be documented before they quickly fade away. And quickly they do. I may wish the days away to speed the recovery of my body, but I am in no hurry to give up the sweetness of a warm, sleepy newborn snuggled up on my chest. All too soon, I will be looking back at her baby pictures and vaguely remembering when she was so tiny and new.<br />
<br />
And during this time of contradictions, I realize more than ever how much I don't have it all together: as a mother, a wife, a teacher, a housekeeper. How I desperately need God's grace in my life. How without his Spirit working in me, I am an emotional basket case subject to the whims of hormone surges and sugar cravings. How without a daily dose of His Word and continual turning to Him in prayer, it is easy to be overwhelmed or just plain caught in the day-to-day routine without producing any spiritual fruit. Yet God is so gracious, to give me strength for each day when I remember to turn to Him and ask for it. In the midst of changing schedules and new additions, I must call on Him and seek His face. And whether rocking or reading or resting, I must choose to speak words of praise. He is with me through every trial and joy of motherhood, and when I choose to praise Him instead of dwelling on my troubles, the trials of this world seem to pass as quickly as these fleeting postpartum days.<br />
<br />
<div align="center"><i>The LORD is righteous in all his ways<br />
and loving toward all he has made.<br />
The LORD is near to all who call on him,<br />
to all who call on him in truth.<br />
He fulfills the desires of those who fear him;<br />
he hears their cry and saves them.<br />
The LORD watches over all who love him,<br />
but all the wicked he will destroy. <br />
My mouth will speak in praise of the LORD.<br />
Let every creature praise his holy name<br />
for ever and ever. </i><br />
Psalm 145:17-21</div><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-678868007150025772011-10-18T20:00:00.000-04:002011-10-18T20:17:08.644-04:00The Father's Joy: Not a VBAC Story<div align="center"><i>A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world.</i><br />
John 16:21<br />
<br />
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgza_AIgslfNFv3EIZd2zfYlCfCuG8b2uO6VQsEtlO_HwBGbY2WL6aeNUulSFLn5sBTCV11byTjvL6VClZGjFvBfM7VJx0ZuMMo4Kd4hYuQ2y74h9ejj176cYzWyxoyXgXpw5hujmkHwoik/s512/IMG_0964.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div><br />
(Disclaimer: This is a birth story. Some details may not be appropriate for men, children, or the squeamish. :)<br />
<br />
On the afternoon of Sunday the 9th, my husband and I dropped the children off at my parents' house and drove to the hospital for my pre-op appointment. I was having some contractions, enough to make me somewhat uncomfortable and even require the occasional deep breath, but then again, I had been having sporadic contractions for a few weeks. As expected, the pre-op included signing paperwork, having blood drawn, and going over every detail of the morning's scheduled surgery with the nurse. When our questions had been answered, Don and I went to dinner at our favorite steakhouse to enjoy one more date before baby came (and so that I wouldn't have any dishes to wash). We came home to a strangely quiet house. I folded the last scraps of laundry, emptied the trash, and double-checked our bags to ensure that everything was packed. We were as ready as we could possibly be to bring home a new baby.<br />
<br />
Before heading to bed, I quickly looked up some information on "irritable uterus." Apparently, the term refers to frequent, irregular contractions toward the end of pregnancy that - unlike true labor - do not cause the cervix to dilate. With the frequent tightness and contracting I had recently experienced, I suspected that my uterus was, in fact, irritable. Don and I stayed up too late talking, and when he went to sleep around midnight, I found myself lying wide awake. I finally got to sleep after an hour or so, only to wake up sometime after 3am with continuing contractions. These were strong enough that I couldn't sleep through them, and found myself wanting to change positions instead of lying still. After several had come and gone, I started glancing at the clock at the start of each one. They were four minutes apart. For anyone else, that would signal time to head to the hospital, but I knew my body. Since we had to be there at 6am anyway, I figured that I probably could just wait. So for two hours, I quietly drifted through steady contractions every four minutes. Finally, it was 5am and time to get up. <br />
<br />
"So, if we get there and I'm at, like, 2 centimeters, we'll go ahead with the C-section as planned," I proposed to Don, "but if I'm in active labor, maybe we can wait a few hours and see if she comes out?" "We'll see," he replied, as we drove through the silent darkness. It was too early for anyone else, or even the sun, to be up, and since I had hardly slept, it felt like it was still night. We arrived at the hospital a little before our 6:00 appointment, and I mentioned that I was having a lot of contractions. The first nurse I saw, ironically, was a friend of a friend whom I had gotten to know at our mutual friend's party several months ago. She seemed excited that I might be in active labor and asked if I wanted to be checked. Since we know each other, she called in another nurse to check me. I wasn't dilated. "I can barely get a fingertip in there," the second nurse said. Yes, several hours of painful contractions every four minutes had done absolutely nothing to push this baby out.<br />
<br />
As frustrating as this news could have been, it actually brought me a lot of peace. I couldn't help but laugh at God's timing, to send me this mock labor just hours before my scheduled surgery. If the contractions had started just a few days earlier, I'm sure I would have been back and forth to the doctor's office several times waiting for my cervix to dilate, all while having painful contractions, and it probably would have ended much like <a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2009/06/long-journey-of-lydia-faith-birth-story.html">Lydia's birth</a> - with a baby that wouldn't come out. Instead, the Lord gave me just enough contractions to feel like I was doing something good for Abby's health. (Statistically, C-section babies who experience labor before birth have fewer breathing problems than those that are taken straight from the womb without experiencing labor contractions.) And He gave me peace in knowing that a natural, uncomplicated delivery was not His plan for this baby - beyond a doubt, submitting to my husband in <a href="http://lambsinhisarms.blogspot.com/2011/09/living-sacrifices.html">scheduling the C-section</a> had been the right thing to do. In fact, we had even picked the right day, because with the intensity of my contractions, I would have been heading to the hospital on the 10th either way! I knew that God would work everything out in His perfect timing, but He arranged the details even more perfectly than I could have imagined, so that I was fully, completely ready to have the C-section at 7:30am that morning.<br />
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Like when Lydia was born, inserting the IV was a failure due to my wiggly arm veins. When my nurse friend missed (and felt terrible about it), another nurse came in to start my IV and get me completely prepped for surgery. My contractions slowed down significantly as Don and I waited in our hospital room for the process to begin. After meeting with the doctor and anesthesiologist, it was finally time to walk down the hall to the OR. Don wasn't allowed to come in yet, so I had to sit on the edge of the table and lean against a nursing student for what seemed like a very long time as I waited for the spinal needle to be inserted. As soon as the discomfort was over, I felt somewhat sick and lightheaded. They laid me on the operating table as my lower half slowly fell asleep. I realized one advantage to an emergency Cesarean: everything happens so quickly, there is no time to realize how unpleasant it is. Lying sprawled out, drugged, and unable to move as doctors prepped every last detail seemed to last for ages this time. Finally, my sweet husband was allowed to come stand by my head and comfort me. I was concerned that I didn't feel numb yet; it was more like my legs were asleep. In fact, during the procedure, I was sure that someone or something was repeatedly poking me in the same spot. When Don looked, however, I was apparently cut wide open and nothing was touching the area where I was feeling pressure. It was strange and unpleasant, but apparently the discomfort was all in my head!<br />
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The details are fuzzy, but at some point during the procedure, I really didn't feel well. According to the anesthesiologist, my heart rate fell to something like 50 beats per minute and he had to give me medicine to get my heart rate up. Later, I felt tugging and knew this meant baby was coming out! "Guess what was around her neck two times?" Don asked. Like her brothers and sister before her, this baby had likewise strangled herself in the umbilical cord. Thankfully, in a C-section, a cord around the neck is not the problem in can often be during a vaginal delivery. (Both of my boys were fine within a few minutes of birth, but it certainly scared their Daddy to see them come out blue.) And soon after the tugging sensation, there was some very pronounced crying: our baby girl was born!<br />
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Of course, the nurses immediately took her to the side of the room to clean her up, examine, and weigh her. They were blocking my view, so Don took a picture and brought it back to show me. "Does she look like an Abigail?" he asked, knowing the name I was leaning towards. I said I needed to see her, not just a picture. Finally, after another long wait, they brought the naked baby over to me and placed her right on my chest. After having two babies whisked away after their vaginal births, I have longingly wished that I could hold my newborn against my chest immediately after birth, instead of seeing them for the first time swaddled in hospital blankets. This time, despite the wait, my first contact with my baby was a precious skin-to-skin bonding opportunity. She was so tiny: 5 pounds, 9 ounces, wonderfully perfect, and definitely an Abigail. When I noticed her tiny mouth rooting around on my chest, I asked for some help (not being able to move much, as I was still being sewn up) and allowed her to nurse. Right on the operating table, my little Abigail was nursing, and I was as happy as someone undergoing surgery could possibly be.<br />
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<div align="center"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUPN4iXQmENu39pUqiVt0wLlBEsrNJdIrumwhX4_ehOuPA0y1KDvwmiup7kY_8eF9EhfDrGtBM92ZCfUu4ZJ9SOLvsC6I_KDZF6D3X9EV-4fFABmm6IXTazVxn_-MHXOB3SCASliJHXqCZ/s512/IMG_0917%252520-%252520Copy.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div><br />
To complete my operation, the doctor stitched me back together on the inside, and then used superglue to seal my incision. I had no idea that superglue was a medical product, but supposedly it will heal with a clean scar, and no stitches to remove. The doctor had also cut around and removed my old scar, so this way I will only have one scar line from the two surgeries. Don and I asked him whether my uterus looked thin; after all, that was the reason an elective Cesarean had been recommended to me by the last doctor. No, he said, it didn't look unusually thin. The next day, in fact, he said he didn't see any reason it shouldn't hold up for another pregnancy, and that labor would even be possibility if I wanted to try it. Praise God for His healing hand on my womb!<br />
<br />
The rest of the day was spent resting, recovering, and introducing Abby to her grandparents and siblings. Even after feeling returned to my legs, I couldn't get up because the medication from the spinal left me lightheaded and queasy. Still, I was able to snuggle with Abby and nurse her almost continually - for the first 24 hours, she was either sleeping or sucking. My sister-in-law noted that Don looked better than he ever had after the birth of one of our children. Certainly, this had been the easiest and least traumatic for him. Everything had gone smoothly, and sweet little Abigail was perfectly safe and healthy.<br />
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<div align="center"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jS-AZHSqLyU/Tp3VzTbMkVI/AAAAAAAABA8/wLkRJejUoG8/s512/IMG_0921.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /></div><br />
The name Abigail means "father's joy," so it fit her perfectly. Abigail Joy, our double joy, had brought joy to her earthly father with her smooth and predictable birth. And I trust that her Heavenly Father, who knew every heart conflict that led up to the day of her birth, was filled with joy as well. I will always be a supporter of the amazing miracle of natural labor and birth, and I would encourage other C-section moms to consider trying a VBAC with their doctor and husband's approval. But for Abigail and me, the scheduled C-section turned out to be the best plan. I am feeling better emotionally than I ever have in the postpartum weeks, and my physical discomfort is much than I experienced with my first C-section. Truly the Lord has been faithful to answer our prayer that this sweet baby, this gift from His own hand, would be received into the world with an abundance of joy.<br />
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<br />
<div align="center"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTouhiA5zeJyoVsIEgEYwwjhGEd7N300pRuVPcoTLefP7UdYggWjhwoJZ5AVnT61YvIrBLH97xhF7aNKgZvJI3vny6kZXZRvqM4fM_poKCHG0nnzf72F2ayZRm9gG14_378RgEDYHdWxqL/s512/IMG_0974.JPG" style="height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8439846643721174251.post-28376048049261477882011-10-10T16:42:00.001-04:002011-10-18T20:17:08.606-04:00A Perfect 10<div align="center"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbiRZN1jRPOy9xpxbiydcYE41biQ2liql1ce812rxn3wy8q3jDst9yVC9onBot0jxEmXaxxp5aRvj75OT2VxpUbWwoQny_Ohyphenhyphens81fxho9jYMvZWmLdMT_cruLed-dgYvnfqcwbsHjdZsOr/s512/IMG_0923.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></div><br />
The Lord has blessed us with another beautiful baby girll! Abigail Joy arrived by C-section this morning, 10/10/11. She weighs 5 pounds, 9 ounces and is 19 inches long. I am nauseous and sleepy, but otherwise doing well. Abby is healthy and nursing eagerly. I will share her birth story and more pictures when I am feeling up to it. For now, thank you for your prayers, and for rejoicing with us over this precious gift from the Lord!<br />
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<div align="center"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd7SPwordJryrNYQmX36cUiJDruzy0hqzlQWARyfezmuBfdDfGb7jX_EnUML-_0XUbfthlkZGAKTBAlZ0a262gJJkwVwpKmr4frak4xx6SVedzDPW21iPXr3CL_4M07-pMMQlqewfnU43y/s512/IMG_0931.JPG" style="height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /><br />
<i><br />
Listen to me, you islands;<br />
hear this, you distant nations:<br />
Before I was born the LORD called me;<br />
from my birth he has made mention of my name.</i> <br />
Isaiah 49:1</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1