Love Does, the 100th day of school, and a grumpy Momma heart

Sweet Boys,

I think my favorite 100th day of school will forever be this year's.  Usually I plan some big epic celebration for our 100th day, but this year you guys wanted to plan it.

I think it all started with this book called Love Does for Kids, by Bob Goff that we were reading.  Dad read it first (the adult version), and then I read it, and then we read it together as a family.  Bob takes simple things and makes them big.  He takes everyday life and finds ways to show people that they are loved.  Like the time he sent flowers to the lady who hit his Jeep, or the time he dropped popsicles out of his airplane to the kids who were tired from the hike.  When I asked you if you wanted to help plan the 100th day of school you guys instantly said yes, and said you wanted to see if we could do 100 acts of kindness in a day.  And so you began planning.

First we would leave quarters in the 25 cent machines around town.
Then we would give goody bags to our local firefighters and policemen.
We would drop off balloons for our local pediatric floor, and some for the kids that visit our very own pediatrician.
We would buy a few things for our sweet baby girl that lives a few miles away.
Dad would pay tolls for the people behind him as he drove all over the state.
We would find a way to tell our favorite cashier at the grocery store we loved her.

It was going to be a glorious day.

Finally the 100th day came bringing along a snowstorm, and head colds.  So we waited.  On the 113th day of school I woke up grumpy.  My heart was not full of joy, our Happy one wasn't very happy, and you big ones were on the edge so I decided that it was now or never and we were going to change our attitudes by trying to hit our goal of 100 acts of kindness.  We went to the store and things got worse for me.  In all of your excitement for the day you were having trouble remembering your manners.  Even so things just seemed to keep getting worse for me, we brought 28 balloons out of the store as the wind blew hard tangling 28 strings together.  But you guys didn't care, because all you could think about was how excited some sick kids were going to react when they were surprised by these balloons.  As I drove you happily chatted and kept your fingers busy as they untangled all the the balloon strings.  I called the pediatric ward to make sure it would be alright for us to bring balloons up.  They said it was fine, only for us to find out as we stood in the entryway that kids under 12 (all of you) weren't allowed into the hospital because it was flu season.  In fact they almost sent us away!  But you didn't care, after standing there for 20 minutes while they tried to find somebody to get the balloons, all you could think about was the joy these kids were about to get.

When we finally pulled back into the driveway at 7:30 that night, my heart had softened.  All of us were laughing, and even though nobody gave to you that day all of our love tanks were full.  I was reminded again that sometimes the best thing to do for ourselves is to take time to love somebody else.

Then came Day number 114.  We actually didn't have enough time to drop off all of the goods the day before leaving us with a few stops the next morning.  I'm glad we ran out of time because on the next day we got to see the police museum, the Duck of Justice, and you had a tour of the Main St. Fire department given by the assistant fire chief himself, and you got to see some of the smiles on the kids faces as the nurses from our own pediatricians office gave the balloons out (because we just happened to have an appointment there ourselves).  None of this we had planned, hoped for or even thought about.  It was an amazing way to end our most Epic 100th day of school.

Boys, I hope that when you look back on your childhood that you remember that Mom and Dad did our best to love people.  My biggest goal for you as you grow into men is that you love Jesus first and that you love others second.  Thank you for teaching me as you grow.  Thank you for these amazing two days of wild adventurous fun.

A friend of Jesus says to "Pursue love..."

Bringing back Epic Family Adventures

Dear Boys,

Just shortly after we became parents we realized we needed to take time to be with you.  We realized that just living the daily life wasn't enough, but that we needed to schedule time into the daily to be in your moment, and to see the beauty in the simple.  Years ago we dubbed these days as "Epic Family Adventures".  Sometimes these adventures last for days, but more often then not they are simple turned into grand.  Often they are made up of fishing trips, walks in the city forest, or driving in the car until we find a fun looking place to eat.  I have found though at the end of the day as we're saying goodnight the best part isn't where we were going, but what we did.  For example there was that trip that we all chewed bubblegum and I tried to teach you how to blow bubbles while Daddy drove us, and some how coins ended up in Daddy's shoes.  I really have no idea where we went, but the car ride was a blast.  That is what our Epic Family Adventures are all about-just being in each other space.  2018 was a hard year for that, on any given day we were in some kind of waiting room, had sick babies, or were so tired we didn't have energy to leave the house on a free day.  In January of last year we had over 40 appointments, not including the emergency dentist visit, my job, an ER visit, or scouts.  During the summer we averaged nine appointments a week.  It was a lot, too much.  This year your Dad and I took out our calendars and scheduled in family days.  We miss our time with you and we miss our adventures.

Yesterday we had a snowstorm.  The kind of storm that everybody talks about for a full week before.  The kind where store shelves are empty, and the generator is set up just in case you lose power for a ridiculous amount of time.  Well, we did all that stuff, but then Man of the woods and I also went to the dollar store to stock up on simple household items so we could play a family game of Minute to Win it.  Sunday Morning that the snow fell while we painted and set up our score board.  Sunday afternoon as the ice hit the windows we laughed hard as we played silly games.  

There will always be another appointment or obligation in our lives.  Holidays will come and go, sometimes you will have big celebrations and sometimes they will be small.  What I really hope you get out of your childhood is how important being with people is.  I hope that when you are parents and you look back at a year full of tasks that you are able to slow and build into the ones you love the most.

Risk

Dearest boys,

Let's talk about risk.  I knew death with the loss of my baby sister.  I knew it to happen and I know the pain even though I was young, but the moment you become a Momma the magnitude of life's risks change.  A whole new filter comes into play.

That day I remember it clearly, I was dressed in overalls and a white and pink striped polo shirt.  Strong man and I worked together so it was normal for me to be near him as he sat at his desk on the phone.  I stood next him with my belly bulging with new life as he hung up the phone, his face ashen white, his voice in shock as he told me they lost the baby.  Her baby was a few weeks smaller then mine.  Together, each alone in our own homes, we sobbed.  We cried for her loss and my gift and why it was that way.  That is the day I learned the risk I was taking as a Momma, the risk to be a Momma.

Since then I've learned what I can and cannot control of the risks that come through life.  It doesn't matter if it's big or small there is always risk involved.  That time you were swinging high just like you, Man of the woods, had a done a thousand times before but this time breaking your arm or when you, Laughter, just fell off the bed and broke your collarbone.  Or that time the dentist didn't get the cavity completely removed before filling the tooth and now we wait to find out if you'll need a root canal.  Or when you were learning to ride bikes with all those scrapped up knees.  Or foster care...

Let's talk about taking in orphans, strangers who know things no human should ever know.  Man of the woods suggested this task and after months of contemplating we agreed.  What better way to learn selfless love, and now I know the risk we put you at.  Now you know some of those horrid things too.  You have seen drugs, the effects, and what withdrawal looks like.  You heard the words of suicide and self harm, and you've seen the trauma as we ushered you up to your room quickly to keep you from the blood, but you've seen the bandages and touched the scars.  You have worried deeply for the safety of our foster-loves, and you have prayed hard.  You've begun learning that to love deeply brings great risk.  My heart wonders if I did right by you to bring trauma into your lives like this.  I wonder if the risk was too great.  I worry about your hearts and how I can protect them.  I wonder if I haven't protected you from the world.

But then I listen to you talk, I listen to you pray, I watch you look for the needy in crowds and on streets and in stores.  I watch you move into action when you find the helpless.  I watch you have compassion on the hurting.  I watch your hearts grow deep and steadfast in what you know to be true as you practice repeatedly what is right.  I have learned that even when another is hurting deep you love hard.  Where some fear you are confident you have power to help.

I am proud of you.  I am learning daily that I can't protect you from risk, that only in tiny portions can I control the risk life hands us.  That's the key I guess is that from the moment your heart beat for the first time you were apart of a world full of risk, what better way to learn about life's risk then in the arms of your parents.  There are some risks I will never take again, and others I will.  Always I will fight for your hearts, I will fight for your childhood, and I will fight for the men you will one day be.

I love you sweet boys.

Momma

Fail... Lesson learned.

Last spring I spent the day with my boys, Mom, sister, and her two girls.  I ended the day with a very sore back that lasted for months, three months to be exact before I finally talked with my doctor.  After an x-ray, MRI, many visits to the chiropractor, a visit to pain management, and the back surgeon, and I am now still going through weekly sessions of physical therapy it has been determined that I have multiple herniated disks.  Three maybe four disks, it all depends on which person is reading my MRI at the time.  Either way my back hurts.

With each appointment I walked in expecting to hear that my injury isn't really as bad as the last doctor said, but as I walked away I left realizing that actually it is worse then I thought.  I had the x-ray done thinking my doctor was just being cautious only to get a phone call that I needed an MRI.  I went into the MRI telling the technician that I didn't need any help taking my shoes off or getting on the MRI table only to leave with him insisting on helping me sit up and putting my shoes on for me.  I walked into pain management expecting to be told I just needed to wait it out only to find that not only were they ready to give me the steroid shot into my spine, but my insurance company had already agreed to pay for it.  I walked into the surgeons office to find that if I had met with a younger, newer surgeon they would probably suggest operating, but since he had been around for a while he realized that if he did operate because of where my back was injured I would be signing up for three more surgeries every other year for the next eight years ending with chronic pain for the rest of my life.  Instead he thought I better continue on with PT, informing me to expect up to two years before I was back to normal and thought I might have some on again off again arthritis.  The surgeon was the best news giver of them all and I still wasn't happy with the news he gave.

I spent most of July with ice packs, and heating pads strategically placed around my spin and hips as I dreaded my next PT or chiropractic visit.  I listened to my boys play outside and watched every season of every HGTV show available on Netflix. On the few days I felt normal enough to move I over did it by trying to catch up on all the things I was missing out on.  Even when I was trying to "take it easy" one wrong step would end in more intense pain lasting for days.  In the end no matter what I did I caused myself greater pain.  When I returned to the ice packs, and heating pads I found my spirit deflated.

For years I have talked about, almost obsessed over slowing and seeing the small things.  It seems that finding joy in the mundane goes along with parenthood.  To find joy in the small not just the mile stones of life, not simply the first word, the first steps, the very last diaper change, the first day of school, but to find it in the daily grind.  All those nights that my sweet baby boys screamed and all those days I passed through blurry eyed, a whole day of punishments because he insisted on eating the dish soap, covering himself in the baby powered or taking a bath with his clothes on, somewhere in all that there was joy.  But this summer...

This summer is different.  Now they sleep through the night.  Now they obey.  Now they know right from wrong.  Now they know what is safe and what isn't.  Now they are easy and fun.  This summer it is because of me that I search for the joy.

This summer I have hardly seen the joy.  I have gone to bed many nights frustrated reflecting on all the things we didn't do rather then all those small joys.  The way they took care of me.  Those times they offered to make me lunch.  The many times they got an ice pack for me.  The way they played together.  They way they did extra chores so I wouldn't have to.  The way they helped me cook dinner.  The way they snuggled.  All those joys I let slip by.

Next time, because it's a fact of life that my body will fail me guaranteeing there will be a next time,  I intend to see the joy in the mundane as it comes along.

Those small hands

Every year around this time I'm faced with the hard truth that time stops for no one.  This is my 9th year of motherhood.  No matter how deep my desire is for my two kidlets to stay young I am forced to watch them grow into men.  In fact I rarely ever call them kidlets, boysies, hoolies, or any pet name because they are now true boys, my sons, and almost men.  This week one more chapter in life came to a close while another one opened.

Here in our house summer vacation has officially started which means I will never be teaching a first grader again.  As the year closes my baby can read most anything he wants to even if he doesn't have a clue as to the word's meaning, he's pretty good at the whole school thing.  As for sweet Man of the woods, he is closer to his teenage years then he is his toddler years.

This year we have:
~ Explained words that I hoped they would never learn simply because they can read.
~ They also now know where babies come from.
~ I no longer require them to hold my hand in parking lots, but secretly hope they will every time we get out of the car.  When they do take my hand in theirs I savor the feel of that small hand in mine, because If I am completely truthful Man of the wood's hands and feet are almost as big as mine.
~ We watched Man of the woods beam as he was given his very own pocket knife for his birthday and has attentively paid attention as he learns to use it on fishing trips where he is now required to always have it with him.
~ We have begun to wonder how old is old enough to leave them at home while we run to the corner store.

Since I can't stop the future from coming I breathe deep all the firsts they experience and dream with them about what lays ahead.  After all while I want that small hand to always fit perfectly in mine, another girl will soon be dreaming of that manly hand fitting perfectly into hers.  It's my job to prepare them for her and all the future offers them.

Strong man and I, we need to teach them:
~ To slow and see.
~ To dream big.
~ When faced with good and better, to always choose better.
~ To love without conditions.

Summer is all about new beginnings, dreaming big, and slowing.  That's exactly what I plan to do with these small men.  Already we're dreaming about rivers to swim in, critters to catch, woods to be explored, and adventures not yet thought of.  These dreams seems small, but to them are big and grand.  So then for me too they are big and grand, requiring me to slow and see, to always choose better, and to dream wildly.  If I do this well then I can prepare them for all the future holds and those sweet girls that one day will dream of those manly hands.

Sick days, teaching moments

Every morning is a brand new day, but begins just as it had the day before.  As these eyes fight against themselves to open, my mind is already planning out the day ahead.  A full time job everything has to be on schedule and if the boss lady doesn't have an agenda then the place will undoubtedly fall apart.  However day six, my last day before an afternoon off ,begins two in half hours earlier.  It begins to the sound of liquid violently slapping into the toilet bowl followed by seven year old cries for help.  I run to him both of us knowing all I can do is tell him it will be okay, both of us knowing that today will be an entirely different day then we had hoped for.

That break I was looking forward to has instantly disappeared.  Instead I get a bowl, find some coke I had hidden away for the days that I needed a pick me up.  I hadn't imagined using it to settle a boys stomach.  I find a favorite TV show wrapping him up in  some blankets, all the while cautioning him to go to the bathroom as the first feeling of another episode.  Even though it's so early I tend to the chickens, start a load of wash, bring those hot coals back to life, I make sure little brother also knows what to do if his stomach begins to turn and set breakfast out for him to eat when he is ready.  I forget the coffee as my sick boy looks so pathetically in need of his Mama.  I sit close, with his head in my lap knowing full well being this close ensures that I too will be this sick.  While I sit I pray that somehow this sickness will pass over little brother...That's how my 16 hour day begins.

As the day continues I begin counting my joys. 1. He made it to the toilet. 2. The times he didn't little brother offered to clean it up knowing that I would gag if not vomit my whole way through the process.  Even though I would never accept his help his little willing heart warmed my soul. 3.  Little brother always had a drink waiting for him to rinse his mouth. 4.  He offered to bring in all the wood since his brother was unable to help. 5. Family to bring saltine crackers and the coffee I didn't have time to make for myself. 6. Snuggles as contaminated as they were with a boy who soon would no longer need the cuddles of his mother.

As we said good night to each other I could barely keep my tired eyes open, I fell into bed with the phone to my ear as I listen to the comforting voice of my Strong man so many miles away.  While his words are encouraging we both know this is just the beginning.  Those plans with friends need to be canceled, school needs to look different, and this introvert has a few more days of nonstop snuggles ahead of her.  All the while every moment I am teaching.

As day two drags on with sick boy not quiet healthy but no longer sick.  The day after being sick is what I call it and in my opinion it is worse then the actual day of sickness.  Sick boy's mind is alert and ready to move, but his body is still weak.  He is quick to use his words and his tone is always too sharp.  Little brother while loyal and helpful the day before sees no outward signs of sickness and can no longer contain his energy.  He is constantly begging to play while flipping himself off the furniture.

As for me, my stomach rolls, but never empties itself.  My mind sees all that didn't get done the day before.  I work hard to be in the moment teaching the children how to be men of honor.  Teaching them respect, and the need to keep going even when life is hard.  As they point out how green I look I allow them to love me and take care of me even though I really just want them to play without me.  As we do school which I'm convinced we need to do primarily because I need structure even when I'm sick, I can't help but think of those reminders that as a mother I am called to teach just through living life.  Funny because that night was we do our daily Bible reading that they boys insist we do, I stop just before that passage.  I know it well and I smile at the timing of it showing up.  I look forward to reading it tomorrow.  I look forward to teaching them how to live again tomorrow.  I am pleased that I get to work all these hours, even without a break.

Still tired I fall asleep content that I am where I should be, doing what I am called to do.  Thanking God for the 2 little boys in my life.

You shall teach them diligently to you sons and shall talk of them when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way and when you lie down and when you rise up.

~ Words of Moses, a leader of the Israelite's.

2014 - A change of seasons

2014 started out looking like it would be the year without change.  I kind of liked that idea.  My husband and I tend to be trail blazers always changing never holding onto anything for too long, but this year that's all I wanted to simply be enjoying my family, my friends, and my happy little job.

5 boys, 1 baby girl, 2 sets of parents.

My youngest was at the best age ever; 4.  Old enough to do pretty much anything, but young enough to live care free.  My oldest was in kindergarten changing right before my eyes.  He was for the first time ever able to correctly pronounce every sound in the English language.  He's a bit tongue tied so it took him longer then most kids, but as we entered 2014 he was doing it.  Our best friends lived with us and I had a job that let me step away from life and serve people just down the road, I called it my happy little world of Broadway.  There I only had to think about refilling drinks and teaching others to do it as well.

Do to what I now understand was a failed communication, I left my job.  Shortly there after side swiped when my grandmother passed.  It's the way of life for Grandparents to go before the grandchildren, but it seemed so quick.  Laughter went to her funeral wearing a sling.  He fell off the bed breaking his collar bone.  Two weeks after his sling came off, his brother broke his arm jumping off of a swing.

Not long after I got a text and then a call wondering if I wanted to run my own store.  If I wanted to take my happy little world of Broadway down the road and run it the way I wanted too.  Strong man and I said yes.  Life began to fly by, I worked insane hours working hard to learn my role as RGM and worked hard at keeping up with one of the busiest months.  I began mourning the loss of what I knew of motherhood, fishing trips, doctors appointments, reading and writing together, holding the boys close when they were sick, doing special projects together on rainy days, even the mundane of the day in and day out constantly going over the same things with the boys.

Days before Strong man's 33rd birthday we sat in the ER wondering just how serious his sickness was.  As we waited we imagined what life would be like without each other, thankful for all that we had.

I'm still not sure what 2014 truly was all about.
Maybe it was simply a reminder that life never stands still that you have to fight to savor it.
Maybe it was a reminder to fight for the relationships close to you.
Maybe it was to show me how fragile life really is, to value what is most important in it.
Maybe it was a warning of the changes to come.
Maybe it's a little of all the above.

This year will stand out above most others,   No matter what it was about I hope that as I enter 2015 I can discern what needs to be a priority and what I should let go of, that I can focus on the most important aspects and move quickly past the insignificant things.

With all my heart I have sought You; 

Do not let me wander from Your commandments.

~ King David

Time is my enemy, or is it?

My head pounds.

My body aches.

My soul throbs.

I'm not sick.

I'm overwhelmed.  

My job, 48 hours doesn't seem like enough.  It's one of my loves, my team, working all positions, dealing with both the satisfied and unhappy customers, learning; the never ending learning, and the quit times of maintaining my store, all of this I love.

And yet my true love is at home being super Dad, as days go by where this Mom sees her boys for minutes only.  Two in a half days, really 30 hours a week is not enough time to be a mother, a wife, a housekeeper, a cook, and a friend.

The throbbing of my soul? Some how even in the thrills of life when I should see the blessings of a job I love and boys who are growing into men, and a husband who fights for our family, and the beauty of nature surrounding me, some how I forget the Giver; the Maker of all things good; both the heavens and the earth.  My souls throbs from the disconnect.  What is life without the One who gives me breath?

If only I cold slow time, or maybe just add a few hours here and there.  Then maybe I could find rest and beauty in these three loves of mine.  As I sit in the quiet this is what I contemplate.  How can I make time?  The answer:  I can not only God can add time to life.  All living things are bond by it, chained by it being dragged hour by hour, minute by minute, helpless to slow it.  Even so this these chains should bring me joy.  Without time there would be no end.  If there is no end why would there be any hope for what is to come.

What is it that I hope to have before my time runs out?  I hope for a home that is ours to share with hurting souls.  A Haven for others to find rest, for us to find rest in, a place full of Life.  I hope for my own store where I can daily be in the kitchen doing what I love in a small hole in some back ally corner where my cooking and the atmosphere does the advertising for me.  I hope for my boys to grow into men, and then fathers, friends of mine, but most of all lovers of God.

My conclusion, Keep on keeping on, and to remember the words of a wise man, "It is good that you grasp one thing and also not let go of the other; for the one who fears God comes forth with both of them."  

To all my friends...

...Who are fighting for the joy in both the daily life, and the unexpected that we are given.

Gifts...
246. The ability to choose Joy.
247.  Music that heals the soul.
248.  A God "who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works withing us." (Quoting the apostle Paul who being locked in a prison for years still was able to say it perfectly.)

May I give Him the glory of all my Joy, by slowing to see life for all that it is.

It's all about timing...

Three months ago I quit my job at the Hut, a job I loved, to begin a new one.

Two months ago I lost my grandmother.  With my loss I spent more time back home which I wouldn't have been able to do had I not left the job I loved.

Three weeks ago I was offered a better position back at the Hut that I didn't think I would ever be offered.  With the loss of my grandmother and all the time I would have taken off I'm not sure I would have been given the opportunity for this new position had I stayed. I gave my notice at the new one.

Two weeks ago, on my last day, I was called out of work.  A few minutes later I received a phone call and found myself headed to the Portland hospital to be with my sister and her little girl.

I have wondered at the timing of these past few months.  I've wondered why I my new job just didn't seem to fit quite right.  I wondered at the death of my Grandmother who was full of life just days before her passing.  I wondered at the offer of this other position.

Now that I'm through it, I can see how God used one to lead to the other.  This chain of events allowed me to love on people that hurt so deeply.  I can't help but remember the words of Solomon the wisest man ever to live saying there is a time for everything.

There is an appointed time for everything.  And there is a time for every event under the heaven.

~ Ecclesiastes 3:1

166.  A God who coordinates events perfectly.

When life is altered.

I should have been working but a was called out, a thing that rarely happens.  Instead I used that time to go clothes shopping for some much needed pants, I put off because really I hate it and so do the boys.  As I walked into the changing room my phone alerted me to a text and then it rang.  My sister and her 3 year old were on there way to the hospital, but not the local hospital the largest in Maine.  They were on there way to the pediatrics ICU.  The ambulance that carried them had two doctors ready to save little girl's life if it came to that.  I rushed home, packed a quick bag, and began my journey down.  What I saw when I got there made my gut twist and my eyes water.

Little girl was lethargic, whimpering for water that she couldn't have until at least the next morning.  She had wires covering her.  Her arm in a splint because the IV was so big and her arm too small they feared she might break it.  The IV in her hand stuck out over her knuckles half an inch.  She was too small to be in that bed.  I had to stay focused, she was alive.

And that's the key isn't it?  In all of life but even more so when the daily routine is shattered, stay focused.

Dearest Sister and Brother in law,

Stay focused.  This pain, these tears will be less and less until it is the new norm.  She will run and play without thought to those "pokes".  She will grow, love, have responsibilities, be a Momma, a wife, a friend, all of these things because you kept your focus.  Because you kept your eyes on the big picture; you stayed focused and fought for her life.

That's what Job did: Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I shall return there.  The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away.  Blessed be the name of the LORD.
That's what Jesus did:  My Father, if this cannot pass away unless I drink it, Your will be done.
That's what Paul did:  I press on towards the goal for the prize for the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

People looked and stared.
People talked behind there back.
People told them they did it wrong.
People gave up on them.

But they stayed focused on the end game.

Don't give up hope, don't lose heart.  When she says, "please no poke me. No like pokes." tell her, tell yourself that this gives her life.

Decorating her hospital room with paper flowers.

I love you both.  Keep on keepin' on.

P.S.  Tell little girl Auntie loves her.

Does God have an answer?

Some say God only gives them an answer when He says, "Yes," the rest of the time being silent leaving them unsure if He is saying no or not now.  Some say that God says, "Yes and no."  The quietness is His way of saying no.  Some say that God says, "Yes, no, and wait."  Wait simply means to not give up on your request, but that you should sit back put your feet up and wait for the green light.

What do I think?

I think that God has an answer for everything.  I do understand God often says to wait, but I find that typically it isn't simply just because; He always has a reason.  Not only that but I find that He usually isn't asking me to wait, but rather asking me to learn so that I will be prepared for His answer.  Even more so I find that often after I have learned I see He was giving me His answer all along...(So I say to you, ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives; and he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, it will be opened. ~Luke 11:9-10)...I'm secure in this answer.

What do you do when God hasn't even cleared the fog enough for you to inch forward?

My dearest boys, remember this:  Sit where you are with the Bible, His words in writing.  Sometimes this is the only truth we can see with both our eyes and our hearts.  Sit, search, study, inquire of Him, and trust that He finds joy in teaching you.  Know that just as I savored your first steps, your first words, and the look in your eyes every time you fully understand.  One day you will be fathers and one day you will savor these moments.  One day as you savor the learning of your children remember He savors your growth as well.  You are after all His little men.

Take this gift of learning that He has to offer and allow Him the joy of teaching you.

 

The hand of our God is favorably disposed to all those who seek Him.

~ Ezra 8:22b

As each season ends a legacy is born.

Some legacies are wished to be forgotten by the ones who receive them and some just go down in memories possibly being recalled at family reunions, but others can hardly be forgotten.

"You will never know how to live until you are ready to die." written in Grampy's hand in the back of his Bible.

 

This past month Strong man's grandfather passed from this world to the next.  He was a mighty man.  He fought in WWII taking a bullet for his country and then continued protecting this country by securing our borders.  He lived up on a hill in a little town occupied by, at best 100 people.  When I met him at 89 he was still using the tractor and chainsaw.  (He defied time as his 89th year lasted for at least the first four years of my marriage.)  He knew everybody by name and most of those he knew tried to get a copy of his cinnamon bun recipe.  His character was one that most will never achieve and so was his generosity. 

 

But as many said their goodbyes, these accomplishments were not the outstanding memory.  The legacy that "Old Grandpa," as my boys would say, left behind was that he loved Jesus and he was compelled to tell every human being he crossed paths with that they should too.

When he left for the grocery store he not only made sure to bring his shopping list but more importantly he brought at least two pocket Bibles to give away just in case he had the chance.  And he ALWAYS turned that chance into a reality, not just when he was grocery shopping but anytime he left the house.  In fact he didn't even have to leave the house, any who would come into his home both friend and stranger could not say they didn't know of the Jesus from the Bible as they left.  Countless will walk through the gates of heaven because he took the time to tell them about his Savior, giving each of those people a small pocket Bible as a gift.  His faith and example to those of us watching is the most valuable part of the legacy he left behind.

This is the reason so many of us passed his name onto our sons. 

I don't know how it is possible but for my Strong Man, he was even more then mighty in character, more then generous, more than spiritually life saving, he was a "man of old," as the author of Hebrews 11 calls the old testament hero's.

 

Maybe it's because he spent summers up on the hill with his Grampy, as he called him. 
Maybe it's because he was with him so many times he paused as if nothing were more important but to give one of those Bibles away. 
Maybe it's because he heard those life saving words leave his Grampy's mouth over and over.

 

I'm sure it's in part the way Grampy and Nana read there Bible and prayed together everyday.
I'm sure it's in part because Grampy made sure to include him as a child and even as an adult into these daily readings.
I'm sure it's in part Grampy's insistence to always pray with him before they parted ways.

Before Strong man would consider me as his wife I had to spend a day up on the hill with him and his Grampy, looking for Grampy's approval of me...I'm sure of the moment Grampy thought I was a keeper.  It was when I solved the dilemma of cleaning the chainsaws hard to reach area's with a Q-tip.  And I'm sure Strong man new I was keeper when I assured his grandfather the lunch he made for us was amazing.  Still to this day I'm not sure what it was we ate, but it did have peas included; the one and only vegetable I hate to eat cooked.  Only later that day through conversation did Strong man learn I detested cooked peas.  Or more likely Strong man knew I was "The One" when Grampy invited me back and I was willing to return.  Shortly there after I found a diamond on my finger and wedding bells in the air.  As we planned we decided there was no better way then to start our life together with Grampy standing before the throne on our behalf and so with a 20 minute prayer limit, Grampy closed our wedding ceremony and birthed us spiritually into marriage.  Sweet memories. 

 

But even when these memories fade I pray his legacy will live on past my Strong man, into my sons who may pass it to there children, for many generations to come may his love for Jesus, his legacy only become stronger.
Simple reflection on the legacy he left behind proves he "gained approval through his faith."  Yes, I'm sure that if he had lived before the list of the "Men of old" was written he would surely be one of those men. 

I will cause Your name to be remembered in all generations;  Therefore the peoples will give You thanks forever and ever.

~ Psalm 45:17