Savor.

This little girl is a gift. God saw it fit to give me this one at the end to help me slow down and enjoy life. She grabs hold of life and jumps in with both feet.

In the middle of a snow storm this girl dressed herself and snuck out of the house to go exploring. This is how Mark found her wearing her sisters coat and shoes loving every second of her freedom and very proud of her outfit of choice.

I love how she savors the small things in life. While walking the streets in Emerald Isle we came to a big pink beach house. She just stood there for a minute taking it all in. "Its so pretty" she said in a voice of awe. I turned my head and looked, really looked too. The way the sun hit the pink made it glow and the moment really did feel magical. Then she noticed that her flip flops were pink just like house and she just stood there looking down and then back up marveling at a house of pink.

She makes me stop and notice the small things I too often miss in the business of life.

While going out to eat she ordered a bowl of mac and cheese and when it came she could not stop exclaiming. "Dad smell this. Doesn't it smell good?" "Mom take a bite." "It is yummy in my tummy". 

Her enthusiasm is contagious.

I can learn a lot from her about savoring the small things in life. The small things that make life beautiful like pink beach houses, bowls of mac and cheese, sisters clothes and fresh snowfalls.

"Savor. Such a simple word causes the heart to slow down and take delight in a moment. It provokes the soul to stop and breathe a little slower. It opens the eyes to see, truly see."

~Melissa Helser

the adventure of yes

I recently saw a pin on Pinterest that said,
"Life is too short to spend it at war with yourself"

We were in the middle of making a decision. And I was at war with myself. Fighting the voices in my head. 

I am all too well acquainted with this battle. I wrestle with expectations of what I feel like a good mother, daughter, wife (fill in the blank) should look like. Some of it is fear of what other people will think or what others have said to me. Some of the voices are fear and some are religion.  There are days I spend wrestling round and round with these voices. I am realizing a lot of the battle comes down to the fact that I care way too much about what other people think. Way too much. 

A friend of ours recently shared about his battle of the mind at our kitchen table where we sat eating bowls of ice cream. He shared how trying to keep everything together in his mind is like carrying a load of laundry in your arms without a basket. Your are trying to hold everything together but you keep being afraid you are going to drop something. There goes a sock, and some underwear. There goes your jeans and another sock. Not only is it hard to do, it is exhausting, so very exhausting to feel like you need to constantly be keep everything together and battling all the voices telling you who you should be. 

But when I let go of the pile of the laundry, and lift up my arms in surrender I can hear the voice of my Father, the voice of peace. And when I stop caring so much about what others think and listen to what He says, that is when I feel FREE.

One of the decisions I was wrestling with was whether or not to go on a week long trip to Emerald Isle, North Carolina. (Some of you might think it is absolutely ridiculous to even wrestle with something like that but then again why should it matter, right? :) See, I care way too much)  I was battling all sorts of voices in my head. There was a part of me when Mark first brought up the idea that said "YES! We could use a trip away to get perspective and vision and just time away as a family...". But the other voices said "NO!!  That's too long, too much money, too far away...just too much".

 So I was at war.

"The adventure of yes seemed more alive than the safety of no." ~John Ortberg

In the midst of our decision making I came across this quote. It hit me. I really want to say yes to adventure and yes to the things the Lord has for me. Because contrary to some of the voices I choose to sometimes listen to I know He really does have a good story for me.

Also in the midst of this wrestling match I had several conversations with my sister in law, Naomi,  who is getting ready to have her oldest son graduate from high school. And just like that his 18 years at home are almost over and he will soon be moving on. Naomi is constantly trumpeting the message to enjoy these years and seize the opportunities to make memories with your kids. These are the things you can't put a price tag on. These are the kind of trips you won't regret. Talking to her brought perspective and helped me untangle and get to my heart.

So I said Yes! We just came back from a week in Emerald Isle where we stayed in a little cottage like beach house. It has been six years since we moved away and coming back was in some ways like coming home. Stepping onto the island was like a huge exhale. We spent the week riding bikes, hiking, eating good food, playing in the sand, finding shells, writing, reading and just being together. It was a week of adventure. It was a week of long walks on the beach, sunrise mornings and watching the sun go down over the water. It was a week of just being family.

I am glad I said "yes".

"Promise me you will not spend so much time treading water and trying to keep your head above the waves that you forget, truly forget how much you have always loved to swim."

~Tyler Knott Gregson


"The voice you listen to is the one you belong to."
~Jonathan David Helser

bunk beds

"If there was something to be enjoyed you always included us"

~source unknown

I love this quote and it descirbes Mark as a dad. He is really good at including the kids in projects and experiences. He is much better at this than me. I can learn a lot from watching him.

Last year at this time we took down the crib. A monumental moment after having a crib in our house for almost eleven years. Eden has since been sleeping in a little toddler bed. She recently started to outgrow that little bed so we have been looking into what to do next. Three twin beds do not fit into the small room the three girls share so bunk beds seemed to be the solution. We began to keep our eyes open for some secondhand ones.

We have great neighbors and friends who live right down the road. We were over at their house during the last snow storm and the husband Tom showed us the bunk beds he had recently built for his girls. He then mentioned he still had leftover lumber and would love to help us build some. What a gift! 

So Mark and the boys headed up to their house one Saturday morning and spent the day sawing, drilling, measuring and building. The boys responses at the end of the day "this was the best day ever!" They loved every minute. I loved that Tom and Mark spent the time teaching and inculding the boys in the proccess. I love that they are leanring men stuff and how to work with their hands.

Here are some pictures of their building day...

But now I am six.

How can it be this beauty is six already?

This girl makes our life sweet with her smile, her raspy voice, her kindness and her sense of humor.

She wants to be a doctor or maybe a nurse or a dentist when she grows up. But she would also like to be a mommy. 

I hope she always keeps her dreams BIG.

For her birthday we did Hope's favorite foods all day long, eggs and bacon for breakfast, hot wings for lunch and pizza for dinner. 

We went to the indoor pool at the gym and had a little family swimming party. She loved it. 

Sarah and Moses both made power point presentations for Hope. Their kind words and encouragement to their little sister made me cry. It was one of those moments that you are reminded maybe they really do love one another!

We supriesd Hope with a  new bike! She will need to grow into it but she is excited to be six and learn to read and ride her bike without training wheels!

We love you Hopey girl.

The End

When I was One

I had just begun.

When I was Two

I was nearly new

When I was Three

I was hardly Me

When I was Four

I was not much more

When I was Five

I was just alive

But now I am Six, I'm as clever as clever

So I think I'll be six now for ever and ever.

~A.A. Milne

perspective.

This winter felt LONG.

At times it kind of felt like drudging through snow.

Some days it felt like the walls of our little farmhouse cottage were coming in on me.

Sometimes in the midst of the intensity of the seasons I am tempted to think if our circumstances were different I would be happier, a better mother, more patient, blah blah blah. Like in the heat of the summer I often think that central air would make me the most loving mother ever instead of hot, cranky and tired.  Or in the dead of winter if we just had a finished basement that the kids could run around in than surely it would not feel so crazy in our house. 

Recently while connecting with a fellow mom of five I was reminded that this is simply not truth. She was telling me how last winter they lived in a small house in the city with no backyard. This winter they live in a big old farmhouse twice the size with acres around and she still felt like the walls were coming in on her.


Perspective.

It's easy to think if I just had a bigger house, more money, a better something or other life would be easier but that isn't the case.

We have been dreaming for awhile of a place to call our own. Some days I love our current house we rent which we affectionately call the "Buckwalter Cottage" and other days I long for a bigger house and one that we own.  I can get focused on what our house doesn't have like a finished basement, a mudroom, a garage, or a laundry that isn't in a scary basement that I lose sight of its many good qualities. Recently I was looking at my pinterest board called "Dreaming of a place to call our own". I pinned houses that caught my eye. Most of them white farmhouses with wrap around porches. It dawned on me that I am living in my "dream house". Maybe not every detail is pinterest worthy but my viewpoint began to change and a thankful heart emerged. 

Perspective.

The last of the snow has finally melted and we can see grass again. There have been a couple warm days that have teased us with a hunger for spring. The kids are playing outside again, running in the yard and not the living room and the walls of the house and I have both breathed a deep breath.

Winter does not last forever. Spring will come.

Perspective.

        

There is beauty in every season.  Take a deep breath and enjoy the ride.

Perspective. 

You are doing better than you think. 

Perspective.

getting out of the rut

I have been in a writing rut. I thought I might never write again if I don't just start. Dramatic maybe but I have seriously felt that way. The more I don't write I question why I even do. There are lots of other women writing on life and mothering and such and I start to feel that my voice is weak and unneccesary. I feel kind of stuck with my words and how to articulate the processes of my heart and it all feels too tiring and so I don't. YET, I know that this little corner of the Internet world that is my blog is good for me. Typing on the keys pushes the buttons of my heart and forces me to stop and reflect. Looking back on my musings I get perspective on my very own life. In a sense I minister to myself. 

So I will keep writing. 

In the meantime I may not have been writing but my husband has. I love when he writes and puts his heart out there. He has a way with words both the spoken and written. Mark has a new website and blog at www.hingework.com. Check it out.

the beauty of winter.

The month of January has come and gone in a flurry of snow days and sick days. 

Somehow what seems like the longest month of the year has already come and gone and February is upon us. January always proves challenging as we come off the holiday excitement and the freshness of the new year and then find sick days and snow delays and early dismissals and canceled school that tempts me to forgot all my resolutions and fresh hope and bury myself under a pile of blankets on the couch.

This January I have been trying to give myself more grace and receive the rest that comes with winter. I have been allowing myself to snuggle on the couch in the afternoon and read or even sleep. I am giving myself permission to write or paint or redecorate or anything else that I enjoy. Giving space for things that bring me life has been huge in fighting off the winter blahs that usually settles in about this time of year. Maybe that seems silly or basic to some but for me it has been huge.

I recently read something by one of my favorite musicians/artists, Melissa Helser, about winter...

"Savor the clarity that the winter brings. In her bareness she shows you all her secrets and in the spring she will clothe herself again--covering up her deep beauty."

I think the clarity of winter is in the natural and spiritual. Looking out my window across the white covered world of fields and meadows I can see fences, and neighboring farms and nearby developments that are completely hidden when everything is lush and green. The barrenness of the trees allows me to see things I couldn't see before.

The same is true in life. The quiet slower pace in winter when I allow it can bring new life and perspective and clarity. It shows me things I couldn't see in busier paced seasons. 

I want to rest in the beauty of winter.

So I know that in writing this I will be challenged on these very words. In a few minutes my kids will be scurrying in the door from an early dismissal and the "quiet and the beauty of winter" that I spoke of so highly will be threatened! But it is in these times together in our small house where beautiful and ugly moments mix that we grow and learn. I am learning a lot about parenting right now, some of the lessons coming through humbling moments where I have messed up and need to apologize and find better ways to communicate. I know some of the parenting moments come from the reality of spending more time together in a little house with high energy levels and winter boredom but I pray that some of the lessons would be clarity that would stay with me for the seasons to come.

the vanity.

a story.

As a little girl I had a vanity with a bench in my room.  I remember being very young sitting on the bench screaming as my mom combed out my long straight brown hair (much like another little girl I know). I remember looking into the mirror wondering what I would look like when I was grown up. My parents got the vanity when we lived in Nebraska and it went with me through several different moves. As I got older we painted it pink and covered over the strawberry fabric on the seat for a more grown up looking floral. I remember countless hours playing "hairdresser" in my room with my two younger sisters. As the  bossy older sister I was always the hair dresser and they my clients. I combed, curled, braided and primped for hours. As a middle school teenager I can remember sitting on the bench curling my bangs and trying to scrunch and hair spray them into place just so. Exclamation perfume, hairspray and my little jewelry box collection sat on the vanity's top.

Just recently I was reminded of this vanity when a friend of mine posted a picture on instagram of her childhood vanity that she refinished. "I wonder what ever happened to my vanity?" I wondered to myself. I had last seen it when I moved out of the house for college. For some reason it had never made the move with me.

Over Christmas break I got a phone call from my mom. 

"You will never believe this" she said excitedly on the other end. A friend of mom's shares her love for thrift stores and bargains and they have had several yard sales together. Her friend had brought over a small vanity she had recently purchased at Salvation Army to show my mom. My mom stood in amazement as she pulled out of her van... my childhood vanity. 

My parents had gotten rid of it when they moved to the farm 15 years ago. And now here it was. The vanity had been painted over white but at places you can see the old layer of pink showing through. Careful inspection of the bench shows the same strawberry fabric underneath.

My mom was calling to see if I wanted it.

I did.

We rearranged the girls room to make home for the vanity. The girls right away went to work putting it to use doing each others hair. 

It is a small thing but it was one of those little reminders of God's love coming to me in the form of a childhood vanity. He works in crazy ways to show us He cares about little details...memories... things that are important to us. I pray that this vanity would provide fun for the girls and that as they look into the same mirror that I did as a girl, they would know they are beautiful and loved. 

the unseen blessing

Last night as I was tucking the girls into bed Sarah leans over to me and tells me she was reading my little goal book. This is a small journal that a few years ago I started to write some life long dreams in and where Mark and I record our new years goals. It had been left sitting on the counter. 

" I was reading your book. Well, in it you said you wanted to work on controlling your temper and I think you need to work on that. And actually Daddy too."
She said it smugly, seemingly ready to start a fight.

I wasn't sure if I should laugh or cry. I smuggled a smile.

"You are right. That is something we will work on this year. Actually..." I said, "I think that is something everyone in our family could work on.

"Actually... you are right" she said, "Good night."

It had been somewhat of a doozy of a day well, actually a week. Sickness had a paid another visit to our home in the form of a violent stomach virus. All seven of us got it to some degree, some worse than others and the sickness in our house lasted a week. By the end we were all feeling a bit stir crazy... and irritated with one another.
 I don't remember a time where I have felt so sick. I didn't make it out of my bed in two days except to use the bathroom which I did frequently. Mark took care of me and the kids for those two days and then succumbed to the sickness himself. He climbed into bed with a fever just as my chills and aches diminished.

 It was a rough way to end Christmas vacation.

Today was back to school and everyone is healthy again. I could feel a little bit of anxiousness creeping in due to the fact that Christmas break is over. In some ways I am so ready to have some regular routine but there was so much anticipation and excitement in December and now it is is just regular life. But I think so much of it lies in how I see it.

If there was a any blessing in the sickness it was the gift of perspective. When I could finally eat and drink normally four days later it was almost like getting a new lease on life. My health and my body is something I so much take for granted. When I was lying in bed I just wanted normal life...to eat, drink, cook dinner, play with the kids, run errands...uh get out of bed.

 I need to remember that.
The beautiful gift of the normal everyday life.