Searching

What is the worst thing that could happen?

Did you think of something? Something awful?

Your fears are most likely different from mine, but I think we all share certain needs. Some things are part of our very core, and the thought of losing them, well that is downright fearfull.

I had a dream the other night (note: if you're one of those people who hate hearing dreams, sorry)... that I couldn't remember who I was. I didn't know my own name. I didn't know where I was, or any of the other people around me, and worse than that, none of them knew me either. You might think, it's just a silly dream, but it really shook me.

I think that is one of the worst things that could happen... not THE worst, no having a soul and not knowing it's name, isn't really bad when compared to the true evils in life. It's only scary. I can't imagine not remembering the people I love, or vice versa.

It made me think, though. I guess I'm at that age where I'm constantly trying to figure things out. Who am I, really? Why am I here? What's God's purpose for me? Am I really worth anything at all? Would people notice if I went missing. What if I did wake up one day without concept of my identity, what then? Would I still search God out? Would my soul still feel Him breathing through me like the wind on a summer evening?

I felt Him tonight. I was sitting on my back porch, crying to myself sort of. Why I was crying, well, I don't even really know. Dinner didn't turn out well, and there was noodles an sauce all over the floor, among other things. I just felt overwhelmed I guess. Martin was starting the boys' baths, so I took a moment to center myself.

It was calm and beautiful out there, the sun doing it's dance on the tall grass, and the breeze- just right. I let my head sink into my knees and whispered, "Am I alone?" and then out of no where, a big gust of wind covered me, blew the tears in my face and my mouth curled up slightly, for I got my answer.

He knows me even when I don't know myself. And He'll know me til the end. I'm still searching. Maybe I always will be, but at least I'm not alone.

"The Mystery of The Blue Spots"

I wish I had a picture to show you just how ridiculous my load of laundry looked yesterday when I went to take it out of the dryer (but of course the batteries in my camera are dead, and I just can't manage to remember that when I am at a place that sells batteries). As you might have guessed already, nearly every item of clothing was covered in blue spots.
That's curious, I thought. Surely I would have noticed this when I loaded the dryer. What could it be? I considered paint, since we had spent the afternoon finger painting, but that would have washed out (considering I use the best quality natural soap there is). :) Did someone leave a pen in their pocket? Nope. I'm pretty sure that would have come out too.
Elijah was helping sort through what had spots on it and what didn't. We got to the end of the load with only about five things not being covered in blue spots (one of them being Martin's batman sleep pants- he really is just a boy in a man's body)! Then Elijah said, "look mommy the whole dryer is blue!" When I bent down and looked into the dryer I saw the evidence... the only clue to this silly mishap... a lonely blue crayon wrapper waiting to be discovered.
Instantly it all became clear to me, as I'm sure it is coming to you now. The crayon must have melted due to the heat of the dryer, plastering everything with blue wax. I soaked and boosted, and washed two times. The spots faded, but there still there! Ughh! Most of the load was Elijah's clothes, many of his collared school shirts and khaki pants! Thank goodness for hand me downs!!!

We made a new rule: always check pockets for crayons, or whatever else might be waiting to ruin the laundry.

Words...

Words...

are important
they are powerful
they encourage
they communicate
connect us to each other
they can uplift us
or bring us down
they empower or
discourage
they tell a story
leave impressions
make judgements
give hope
carry us
strengthen us
tear us down
so we can be built back stronger
overwhelm
they make history
they change us
they are part of our identity
they are felt deeply

Sometimes there are no words.

Heart and mind and soul feel so deeply that words are not enough.
Nothing can be said.
No words spoken can explain the feelings that overwhelm the heart and erupt into tears.

Those are important too.
Maybe even more important than the words.

The freedom to express those feelings, ahhh, that is openness, that is joy, that is genuine connection with someone.

When you don't need the words to communicate that's when you know you've got something.

LadyBug Park

Today we collected ladybugs in baby food jars, read stories in a tent (in our living room), and made lots of roads for Elijah's cars to drive on.

The ladybug adventure wasn't quite what I had planned. Both of the boys love ladybugs, but we don't see too many over here for some reason. Last week, however, we saw hundreds down town. I'm not kidding- hundreds! We were strolling Sherman Avenue just for something to do (if you know the area, there's this little sitting park between some of the shops, with benches). So on the park benches were all these ladybugs, in the cracks, and on top of each other; they were everywhere. So I told the boys we would come back with jars and collect them for our roses -which are getting eaten and are also covered with aphids (ugh, just typing the name gives me chills- yuck those are some nasty little bugs!) Ladybugs are known to take care of nasty little situations such as these, so you see just how perfect my solution is? Free ladybugs!

Looking outside I knew it wouldn't be the pleasant stroll we had last week, with the sun in our faces, but now that school is out, my general response is: "why not?" So we went with our jars, walked the few blocks from the parking lot to the park with our teeth chattering. Luckily I had an extra coat in the back of the car for Owen to wear, or he would have frozen... for some reason daddy's often forget that kids still wear coats even when it's not snowing. Anyways, we got to the park are it appeared to be ladybug-free. No speckles of red covering the benches. But then I saw one, hiding just on the edge. "Elijah, I see one!" I hollered. He ran over and nearly squashed it trying to pick it up and get it in his jar, but it got there just the same. Then we saw another, and another in the bush just next to the bench. That little bush had several crawling on the underside of it's leaves. Now Elijah was excited. "Look, daddy," he said. "Mommy and me found a whole bunch!"

We spent the next twenty minutes scouring the place for scattered ladybugs playing a good game of hide-and-seek. We eventually came out with about fifteen ladybugs, well... fourteen and a half really since the once Owen picked up didn't quite make it.

They were so proud riding home with their jars full of ladybugs. When I asked Elijah if he wanted me to put his on the floor, he responded very quickly, "no! I want to keep them on my lap!" Owen kept unscrewing the lid to his jar and letting the ladybug crawl just to the top, them he'd put the lid back on. Once it got out and started crawling on his hand, I think it kind of freaked him out. "Mommy, it's on me, it's me!" he said.

All Fourteen and half of them are now safely living in my rose bushes, hopefully doing some good eating! I'm not sure if that will be enough to save them, but it was worth a try and it sure was a lot of fun for Lije and Owie!

The tent we put up on Monday. This really surprised them. Everyday we've read stories in there, which is my favorite part, but I think theirs is just going in there and being silly. They kick the side of it, bring flashlights in there and toys and cars. It's like there own little hide-out. But when it's story time, they listen. Mommy brings out the special stories, the ones that I keep on the top shelf that I don't want torn or stepped on, the classics, like, "The Five Chinese Brothers," "Where the Wild Things Are," and "Love You Forever." Okay, I guess I can't really call those "classics" per se, but they are in our house anyways. All three of those I remember vividly from my childhood, and they are cherished!

Note: I just wanted to point out that just because some of us are ready for the sun doesn't mean you can't still have a little fun!

My First Love

Ten years ago I met a boy in a church. I didn't know then that we'd fall in love. I didn't even really know what real love was yet. I was guarded, but curious; he was like no one I had ever met. I was fifteen.
That summer after we met seemed to crawl by. My friends and I talked about him constantly, anticipating the next time we'd all see him (so they could help me figure out if he was into me or not). He was.
He lived in a different town, but we wrote letters... yes real letters, the kind you have to lick with your tongue and put in a metal box with a red flag. They're my favorite; there's just something about holding someone's letter in your hands, the same piece of paper that was recently in theirs. There's something romantic about it. The whole thing made me feel a little like we lived in a different time- you know watching the mail every day, hoping he had sent something. And when he did, I would read them over and over, memorizing every word, making a crease in the paper from folding it up, putting it in my pocket, and then taking it out again to do it all over.
He didn't write things like other boys had written to me. He was sweet, honest, and goofy in his own endearing way. We started a game in our letters that was sort of silly, but fun. We simply called it "the question game." I would ask something like, "If you were a dessert, what would you be and why?" Then I would have to answer my own question and wait for his response. It was a great way to get to know each other.

The months passed on. We saw each other very little. But that only made me think about him more. Sometimes we'd talk on the phone, but my dad didn't like the extra three hour long distance charges on the phone bill. I got a job so I could pay for them.
Almost a year after we had met, we became "an official couple." I like to say we were courting, I guess that's my old-fashioned nature coming out. We kept our long distance status for the next two years. We even went to separate colleges. But at last I realized I could live without him no longer, so I followed him across the country (for the first time in my life I found myself without a plan). I only knew that I loved him and that the long distance thing was horrible!
One month later, he proposed. I said yes!
We got married the next June. Saturday will be our sixth wedding anniversary!

I love you, my darling... you are my first love and forever, and we are incredibly blessed! I thank God every day that we found each other!!! Happy Anniversary!!!http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=1868353027124&set=a.1569336791905.76651.1190019556&type=1