Dear Everyone,
This past year was hard work... and lots of it. But this year yielded some major accomplishments and fulfilled dreams. Grad work - 2 1/2 years down, 1 1/2 to go! Working on building a house (the work is never finished) - and moving in! A long, arduous planting and harvest season for Eric along with a new business venture. The beginning of a ministry that is growing around our kitchen table. When the work is hard, it tends to be the smaller moments that create the memories. So here is our year in review... the moments and snapshots that create our family portrait.
Precocious, independent and four years old, Samuel rules the roost with an iron fist and an adorable dimple. I don't recall watching episodes of Seinfeld around him, however, he has somehow channeled the personality of the infamous Soup Nazi. I can take him to our favorite bakery, buy him a delicious cinnamon roll, share my scone, and when I ask him for a bite, all I get is, "NO BITE FOR YOU!" He doesn't particularly like it when I wear my hair in a ponytail either. If I ask him for a kiss on days when my hair is up, I get a scowl and a "NO KISS FOR YOU!" Though he tends to withhold the love from his doting parents, he certainly does not withhold information about them. He told his babysitter that his "mom and dad drink beard." Sam can insert movie quotes into a conversation with artistic precision. For example, I'll ask him to pick up his toys. When he doesn't, I say "Sam, I asked you to clean up... what are you waiting for?" His response: "I don't know, something amazing, I guess!" (Verbatim from The Incredibles.) Sam enjoys putting together complicated, 60 piece puzzles. He sits on the floor, diligently putting these puzzles together piece by piece, without looking up from his project until he is done. Then he stands up, exclaims that he is finished, promptly sits back down, breaks it apart and puts it together again. When asked what he wants to be when he grows up, Sam informed me that he wants to be a "walkie talker." When asked what that meant, he replied, "A walkie suit police fireman thing. With a vest." Sam is quite capable of going potty on his own now, though our bathroom conversations have shifted dramatically from the topic of trains to his regular demand for privacy. Just seconds after he sits on the toilet, he'll exclaim, "Mom! Close the door, I need some privacy!" If I call to him and ask him if he needs help, I hear, "I can't talk to you now because I'm on the potty and that would be potty talk," (potty talk is strongly discouraged at the dinner table). However, when I sneak away to the bathroom and close the door, he has no problem blowing the door back open and storming right in. When I ask for some privacy, I get a definitive "NO PRIVACY FOR YOU!"
Gabriel might just be the most thoughtful and generous nine year old on the planet. He gives kisses abundantly, shares his most precious possessions, and always opens my car door for me before he climbs into his own seat. He comes home from school on Mondays with his Bible verse already memorized for the week, reciting it as he steps through the door with a sprawling, toothless grin on his face. He's always asking me to quiz him in Bible trivia, and will often grab his Bible and request to snuggle with me on the couch while I read it to him. His prayers are detailed and thoughtful, and remind me to think bigger when I pray. Gabe enjoys writing short stories and illustrating them (just like his momma did when she was his age). He also loves listening to music and singing his favorite songs. He can't seem to understand the lyrics, however, and instead chooses to make up his own.
"Rocking around the Christmas tree... everyone's dancing merrily" becomes
"everyone's dancing Beverly." We all like Gabe's versions better than the originals. His favorite band is Imagine Dragons. He's become a bit of an expert at singing their songs without actually singing a real word. The poor kid can't catch a break though, with an older brother who is constantly correcting him. But Gabe is learning to stake his claim against a know-it-all older brother and a four year old dictator. The other day I stepped into the garage just in time to witness Gabe and Jack throwing punches at each other in the middle of the van. Come to find out, Jack had raced Gabe to my car door just to be the one who got to open it for me. Chivalry isn't just a notion for my Gabriel, its a lifestyle. And he's willing to throw down for it.
Jack is 11 and is now old enough to do all things (apparently). He helps out with the farming operation by driving around the gator and tractors, and mows the lawn better than I do. Though he forgets to do most things we tell him to do, he has successfully managed to keep our beta fish, Saki, alive for 3 years. It is the same routine every night - I tuck him in and we pray together, I close the door and go sink into my own bed, and he strolls out 10 minutes later with sleepy eyes to feed the fish. Every. Night. He has transitioned well to public school, especially loving his science and art classes. He has such a unique perspective of how he views the world around him, his mind is always ticking with a creative thought. In addition to playing drums, he now plays all things percussion. Who needs an alarm when you can have your fifth grader wake you up with Mary Had A Little Lamb on his xylophone? Throughout the day, Jack will bust out with a drum beat on the counter or table top, and I see a glimpse of my dad in his musical inclinations. Jack still loves baseball and basketball, and remains faithful to both sports, though he has accepted that he might not be as athletic as the rest of his teammates. He says his favorite thing about playing baseball is being on a team, and enjoys encouraging his friends as they cross a base. After a basketball game, Jack excitedly exclaimed, "I felt like Michael Jordan there for a minute. Not because I was good at basketball or anything, but because I was so sweaty... You know, like him when he plays - all covered with dew." This past summer, we took a family trip to Yellowstone. Jack was my adventure buddy, braving the unknown trails with me to steal a glimpse of beauty. He is my conversationalist, always willing to open up and talk about anything - from how clouds form to a play by play of every individual reaction over the cookies I sent with him to school - he leaves out no small detail. Whether its on a trail or on his bed as I tuck him in, Jack invites me into his world. Its one of the things I treasure most about him.
Eric is now 39 and still hasn't finished our house. It was supposed to be done when he was 38. We are all dealing. Regardless of the unfinished state of the house, we moved into it in April. There are moments when all five of us are sitting in front of the fireplace, the sound of giggles echoing in the vaulted, timber framed ceiling above us, and I just look at my husband with overwhelming joy. He built our dream. We are living in it. And I am so proud of him. The tile will eventually be grouted in the mudroom and the range hood will go up at some point - but in the meantime, memories are being made and the dream is being lived. Eric also began growing hemp this year. In the smoldering, summer heat, he was out in the field behind our house, hand-pulling weeds around 4,000 hemp seedlings to ensure the growth of each plant. He remained optimistic throughout difficult planting and harvest seasons, working long hours, and teaching our boys that hard work will reap a bountiful harvest. He has also shown unwavering support of a ministry that I began this year in our home, called The Table. He makes sure to be home from work early every other Thursday, to help prepare our home for dinner guests. Before the foundation was dug out or a single timber was cut, the very first thing Eric did in preparation for this home was building a table top for our dining room. A huge part of our dream was to create a space for people to come and gather around a large table - for community and discipleship to dwell within the walls of our home with the table as the centerpiece. Ironically, the table top is still sitting in the garage without legs. I'm not sure why it has taken so long for him to finish it. It's not like he has much else going on.
Last week, Gabe looked out the window and spotted a buck with tall, regal antlers strutting up the hill towards our house. An hour later, as I sat in front of that same window while reading for school, I watched a bald eagle with his charcoal wings fully extended, soar over our field. We have a pair of binoculars sitting on a shelf next to this window in our living room, that have given us close-up views of a beaver collecting corn stalks, raccoons rummaging and possums moseying, a "skipping" coyote, a family of three skunks who nest in the brush by the road, and hawks darting toward the ground in search of prey. There are small moments like these, sightings marked with beauty, wonder and expectation, that have brought this year into focus for me. God is gently reminding me to stay alert and keep searching for the small glimpses of his presence and work in my life. I see Him when my children sing grace around our dinner table, and when our house is full of people eating and sharing stories. I see Him when I watch my husband come home from a long, physical day of work and hang a light on our front porch. I see Him when I pray for endurance when the school work becomes overwhelming and a friend invites us over for dinner. I see Him when I ask Him to help me find my voice again, and He gives me a platform to speak. For me, this year has been one of tremendous growth and inward reflection and transformation. And all of the small, vivid moments shaped like colorful pieces of glass have come together in a stunning mosaic reflecting His light and love in our lives.
I hope this letter finds you in a place full of peace, love and hope. And may you sense God's presence and recognize his fingerprints in your small, day-to-day moments.
Love,
The Heaton clan
