2017: Our Year of In-Betweens

Dear Everyone,

This past year has proven to be full of it all - highlights that brought joy bursting from our hearts and mouths, lows that briefly crippled our spirits, and all of the moments in between. I believe God speaks to us all the time, in the beautiful, picture-worthy moments as well as the dark, painful ones. But I've learned to value the in-between moments the most - the moments that fill our days with laughter, spur us on, and invest our lives with meaning. Rather than take you through our year by way of vacations, milestones and updates, I'm inviting you to join us in our 'in-between' space...

Samuel, our precocious two year old, has successfully learned how to insert "what da heck!" into any given conversation. He knows his ABC's, with a "T, U, V, double X, Y, Z" at the end. He enjoys having the same Thomas the Train book read to him over and over again, so I have developed a tune that I sing it to, usually incorporated during the third reading. The fourth reading I save for my British accent. Speaking of trains, potty training is moving quite along. For the past couple of months, Sam has been consistently telling us when he has to go, at least five to six times a day. I sit on the side of the tub as he sits on his little potty, and we chat about tractors, fire trucks and Barney. I've really enjoyed this time with him, because he sits there for quite a while. He has yet to actually go, though. When I told him that he had to "put pee in the potty" in order to get ice cream (his incentive), he looked at me crossly and exclaimed, "What da HECK!"

Gabriel, my darling seven year old, is fully embracing his place in the family. Flanked on either side by two worthy opponents, this middle child is learning how to stake his claim. Air-born hot wheels to the back of the head (courtesy of Sam) have proven to be his Achilles heel. Total domination is not out of reach for Gabe on the soccer field, however, as hat tricks have become the norm for this center-fielder. He also displays exceptional spiritual leadership, as he offers to pray in front of his family and peers, and easily ties in Bible stories to his every day experiences. He wants to be a missionary when he grows up... in Florida. His creative, artsy side is creeping forward which thrills me to my bones. Most days, Gabe comes home from school, grabs some crayons and a blank sheet of paper, and creates a masterpiece for me. Yesterday he watched a tutorial on how to draw Snoopy and Charlie Brown, then very successfully drew both characters. Then, he took a hot wheel to the back of the head, and in his anger, ripped the drawings to shreds. He can't wait to live on his own, and attempted to run away twice this year. Lucky for me, he never made it off the front porch.

Jack reminds us daily that he's only one year away from being in the "double digits." Since he is so old now, he has been given some chores and extra responsibilities around the house. He never remembers to do any of them. He does voluntarily conduct science experiments on a regular basis; his love for science in no way influenced by the old MacGyver reruns we watch around here, I'm sure. He has a real ear for music, and has been taking drum lessons since the summer. His shiny, red garage sale drum set is located in the basement, right by the air vent so no one else in the house can speak while he practices. His practice times are short however, because the basement is creepy and there is apparently a shadow of a "guy" who lives in the crawl space and watches him. Jack has also fallen in love with the game of baseball. His entire first season, bless him, he just could not hit the ball... until the last playoff game. With two outs on the board, and no occupied bases, Jack stepped up to the plate and nailed that ball. He made it to first base and opened the door for his following teammates to hit him home. The look on his face while crossing home plate left this momma a blubbering mess on the bleachers. After the game, in which he earned the team ball, he asked me, "Mom, how do you sign up for the major leagues?" I reminded him that he needs to be in the double digits first.

Eric has a lot of free time these days, since he is only wrapping up the harvest/ tiling season, and building us a house. Apart from the main trusses being all different sizes, 80% of the windows coming in the wrong color, and mounds of raccoon poop in the basement, I think he's happy with the progress he's making! I even helped him for ten minutes one day, sanding a square foot or two of a reclaimed wood post. I will proudly show everyone who sets foot in our house that little spot I sanded. I know that helped Eric tremendously. I have to say, I am so incredibly proud of my husband. Not only is he building our forever home, but he still finds time to dress up like a pirate for his son's birthday, take the boys out for dinner so I can stay home and work on a paper, and bake me warm from-scratch chocolate chip cookies at a single request. If he could just get his snoring under control, he'd be a perfect specimen.

Then there's me. This past year I learned the simple art of stirring pasta sauce while simultaneously changing a diaper, reffing brawls and reading a text book. I've enjoyed every minute of it too.

This year has taught me much about waiting, and pressing into God during the hard, bleak moments. At the start of the year I had no idea who I was anymore. What was I created for? I felt like I was a square peg trying to fit into the circle hole of the life I had somehow created... I wasn't fitting into it anymore. I wrestled with God... a lot. And now at the end of the year, I can look back and reflect on how God moved in me, bringing me back to a place where I can just sit at His feet and learn from Him. As I've watched the progress of my house being built, I've come to see it as a symbolic reflection of the work God has done in me. He reworked my shaky, questioning foundation, setting me upon a firm Rock. He carefully framed me up, building and steadying me with His strength, girding me with His truth. He placed a roof of grace, mercy and security over my head, instilling me with confidence to stand tall and claim my space in a classroom once again. And above all, He has fanned the flame inside of me that burns deeply with love for my Jesus.

We eagerly wait for the day when we move into the house of our dreams. We (in no hurry) wait for Jack to claim double digits and hold our breath every time he swings that bat. We encourage Gabe in his in-betweenness, as he yearns to break free from it. We wait (DEAR SWEET JESUS HELP US) as Sam decides if today will be the day he decides to go on the potty. And I wait, hanging on to a whisper, a breath of love that fell upon me months ago, urging me to trust it and follow it to seminary with a hope that my purpose will be made known to me at long last.

There is always a destination in mind... but I'm quite content with all of these unknowns. This house has grown accustomed to the words "not yet," which have shaped our lives and direction these past months. As we grow ever so close to December 25, I cherish the advent season of waiting, as it so adequately embraces the heart of our home. I pray that in these moments of waiting, yearning, expecting and anticipating, that we draw close to the Word who became flesh. I pray that we would find our sustenance and endurance in him as we press on. There is so much beauty all around us, all the time... especially in the small, in-between moments of our lives.

With Love,
Heather (and Eric, Jack, Gabe and Sam)

This picture is from Easter. I couldn't find a more current one. Clearly my kids are thrilled to be having their picture taken.

Behind The Scenes

This past Sunday was the BIG day. We broke ground at our land. After a decade of dreaming, tweaking floor plans, meeting after meeting with a patient architect, mapping and flagging the location of the foundation, and the signing of our home loan - the digging began under the bright sun, a steady blue sky and the gaze of big dreamers. The earth moved and gave way to the heavy shovel as it scooped, lifted and dumped the chocolate brown dirt in a pile that continued to stretch towards the sky. My boys climbed and slid around in the clay earth that molded to their footprints. As we kicked around the fresh dirt, we would guess that we were standing in the future living room, or pretend we were opening the front door. It is such a gift - to see a dream slowly make its way to reality. I've been learning a lot about waiting and God's timing, and about the importance of the work that happens behind the scenes.

When we see a movie, read a book, shop at a cute boutique, or eat a plate of fantastic food at our favorite restaurant, we have the immense pleasure and privilege of entering into someone else's actualized dream. I often don't think of the prep work that goes into experiencing the things I enjoy. But someone else dreamed up that story line and movie script, wrestled with the right words to put on the pages of that book, took a risk at creating an inspiring place for others, and diligently chopped and sliced and sauteed those veggies so we could savor every bite. For a while, I felt like the dream of building a home was always going to be out of reach. So much work needed to be done before we could get to the main event - moving into a beautiful, new home. But the preparation is everything, because without it, we would not be equipped to move forward and failure would be imminent.

And such is life. The past couple of years haven't been golden for me. In fact, until recently, I've probably identified with Eeyore more than Pooh - longing for the sweet taste of honey but stuck under a rain cloud that won't disappear. Postpartum depression is no joke. I was in a pretty dark place for several months after my youngest's birth. It was something unrecognizable, like a new dark shadow of someone whose face I couldn't see but whose voice was all I could hear. I couldn't explain my feelings and I couldn't shake them. I withdrew to the confines of my home and suffered alone. I would cry out to God but never listen for His voice. All I could focus on was my pain and the fact that I felt like I was drowning and losing myself to a dark, unnamed abyss.

I've always been a big dreamer. I have hopes and desires that have taken root in my heart and spread throughout my soul. They pull me and push me and drive me and inspire me. But during that dark season of struggle I could not see my dreams. They were a cloudy vision, turning to mist in a fog that had consumed my thoughts. I wanted to write. I wanted to paint. I wanted to create and inspire and laugh and find God's voice among the songs of the birds and His beauty among the blooming flowers... but I just couldn't. And because my dreams and creativity are tethered to my soul, I felt so lost and disconnected to myself and everyone else. I couldn't be a good wife or a good mother, or a good friend. But what I see now, as the fog is long gone, and the sun is shining brilliantly around me once again, is that my recent journey with depression was part of the preparation for what is coming my way.

The past two years have not been wasted. God is already using them. Even in the darkest moments, I continued with my Bible studies. Though I may have been broken, God's Word and training slipped through the cracks of my fractured heart and sustained me. God was equipping me - and still is - for whatever may come my way. My season of pain has been relabeled as behind the scenes work my God was doing and is still doing in me. I have sensed Him calling me to trust Him and I feel His steady hand in my life, reminding me...

"As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it."  Isaiah 55:10-11 

As I watched the shovel break into the blanket of emerald green grass, cradling it in its jaws and dumping it into a messy pile, I saw the past two years of my life personified before me. God was digging out the things in my life that needed to be removed in order to build something new in me. He has been making my heart fertile again, ready for the seeds He intends to plant there. Depression had shifted my foundation, and God has been strengthening me by breaking up the things that had taken root in my life that were not supposed to be there. And though it was messy and painful and I felt lost and confused, I am starting to see His vision gently unfold before me, with much anticipation, hope and excitement. I have learned a lot about myself, my needs, and my God these past couple of years. I know, because He showed me, how to take better care of myself. And I've learned that no matter how hard and painful life can be, the more I lean into the pain, the more I lean into His chest where His arms are open to embrace me.

The work that happens behind the scenes is hard. It's tedious, boring at times, and can be unfulfilling, confusing and discouraging. But as I recognized that which God was doing in me, I was able to embrace it willingly, shifting my focus from the difficulty to the hugely anticipated main event - when I can say, "So this is what all that was for, huh, Lord?" I've come to appreciate this season of learning, where I sit at His feet and press in, like an eager student, wondering what truths will fall upon my ears. And as He builds me back up again, I'm confidently claiming my identity in Him.

Abbie

I first met Abbie at the community pool. All the chairs that bordered the swimming area were occupied with damp towels and sopping wet kids, so I found myself at a picnic table in a grassy area apart from the commotion. Abbie was there too, with a cute colorful scarf wrapped delicately around her head. I knew who she was, instantly. Several friends of mine had told me that I should "meet her" because we'd be "instant friends." Our eyes met for a moment and we introduced ourselves and chatted. I remember thinking that her smile was amazing. I knew that my friends had been right. A girl with a captivating smile does make a great friend.

It wasn't until months later when she walked into one of my Bible Studies, that I had the chance to peel back the layers and get to know the girl behind the great smile. As her story fell upon my ears bit by bit, I felt drawn to her and the work I could clearly see God doing in her life. There are some stories that just scream at me - "God is here. He's at work HERE. Pay attention to what He is doing HERE." Those are the stories that pull me in, wanting to be close to the person who God is molding into a likeness of Him - because it draws me close to Him. And that is where I want to be.

Its a couple of years later, and her and I are sitting on my couch. Her youngest is climbing into her lap to play with her phone. I'm curled up with a pen in my hand, because the details are important. God is always in the details. And she pours it all out, with grace, love, power... and that smile.

I wasn't looking for a lump. I found it by coincidence, when Eli was only 6 months old, she begins. She took me back through the first weeks of her discovery. Through the first night she experienced with the knowledge that she had breast cancer. How she held her babies in their beds and sobbed, fearful of the unknown future, envisioning the letters she would need to write and the videos she would need to film so her kids could remember her, when she was gone. She took me through the days where she just cried and cried, mourning a loss that had not yet happened, not understanding that she could have a good prognosis. Then there were the days filled with tests and more tests which rolled into days after days of treatment. There was a whirlwind of busyness that left her demanding,"What is being taken from me?" But she only had her mind to wrestle with the answer.

And then there was the hair cut. A pivotal moment, as her hair was long and shiny and pumped full of prenatal vitamins. The physical landscape of her identity transformed before her eyes, leaving her caught in a web of change. Wigs brought her insecurity. Scarves served her better. But at the end of the day, I would look in the mirror and feel so ugly, she explains. She longed for her old self, but every day that passed as she pressed on deeper and deeper into her journey with cancer, left her feeling further from her self. She felt like she was in constant fight mode, anger simmering... just beneath the smile.

She fought, though, with both fists up and her whole self in the fight - and beat the cancer. She explains that though she was physically healed, she was still emotionally wrecked. The girl she saw in the mirror was not the same girl she knew when the journey began. All she wanted to do was go back to normal, be her old self, and claim the Abbie that once was. Jealousy consumed her, as she battled with the reality that the change that occurred only kept propelling her forward, not restoring her to her former self. The choice to have more children had been seized from her. Her short hair and her medications stripped her of her femininity. She lost control over her emotions. Her marriage suffered. She was full of anger that this had become her story. And her reflection in the mirror continued to be unyielding to familiarity.

She had been made new on the outside. But not the inside. Not yet.

Abbie couldn't keep going on fueled by anger. Eventually she came to the realization that she couldn't go back to the way things use to be, and she made a new goal - a goal to purposefully and intentionally live a new life. She found her way to church, through the invitation of a friend, and committed her life to Christ after she sat through the first sermon. She didn't like asking for help, but knew she couldn't do everything by herself anymore - the burden wasn't meant for her to carry alone. If she was going to claim a new life moving forward, she needed to let go of the old one for good. Motivated towards embracing this new life, she firmly planted herself in church and Bible studies and surrounded herself with people that would speak truth and grace into her life. And she grew.

God saved my life. He saved me from the depths of despair. I was about to go into counseling, but instead I started going to church. God saved me some money too. She laughed and stroked her little boy's head as he snuggled in her lap. I ask her how she has seen God show up in her life since she has invited Him to be a part of it. I see things differently now. My heart has changed. Now, as I wait for test results, I have hope... hope in a greater plan. God is also working in different areas of my life where I have been holding on to negative emotions, like my relationship with my brother. She pauses in thought. When people used to tell me their cancer diagnosis was a blessing, I thought they were crazy. But if it hadn't happened, I wouldn't have gone to church or met people who pray for each other. There was something bigger out there for me all along. This is what God chose, and it enriched my life.

I see Abbie with her son, sitting across from me, no fear in her eyes. No more thoughts of letters and videos. It began with a radical transformation on the outside. The Potter took the clay that He adoringly called ABBIE and carefully reworked it. He molded every edge, smoothed every lump. The clay looked different as He turned it over in His hands, however, it was meant to fulfill a different purpose now. The life of the vessel was changing too, and the proper changes needed to be made in order to accommodate His intended purpose for it. The exterior was transforming, as He worked and stretched the clay, paying attention to every detail. He took the old clay and made it new again, breathing life into every bit of it. And there He sat, admiring His work - a beautiful masterpiece reflecting His glory and sovereignty. His Abbie.

I see the beauty of Abbie's story in her smile. The way God worked through something so difficult and unwanted. The way He brought healing to so many areas in her life - through a physical sickness. The confidence that she has to share her story with others, bringing hope and sharing her faith. I asked her what she would say to anyone else struggling with emotional heartache post cancer. She looked at me and said with certainty, You're not going to go back to your old self afterwards, and that's okay. Cancer took a lot away from me, but I choose to be happy and grateful. I find myself in everyday situations, like moments where the boys are playing, and I close my eyes... and a peace washes over me. 

Abbie's story brings me so much comfort. Her life is a spectacular reflection of God's good work. And I am so blessed by her friendship and thankful for the lessons that God has taught her... so that she can teach me.

Arrows

When I was pregnant with my first born, Jack - nine years ago - I found myself praying for him in huge ways. I don't even think I prayed for myself in such a manner. I prayed for this unborn child to learn how to walk in the Lord's footsteps, to always point to Him in all that he did, and to grow into a man after God's own heart. At some point during my pregnancy, I came across this passage of Scripture, which forever shaped the way I prayed for all of my children.

Children are a heritage from the Lord,

offspring a reward from him.

Like arrows in the hands of a warrior

are children born in one's youth.

Blessed is the man 

whose quiver is full of them.

They will not be put to shame

when they contend with their opponents in court.

Psalm 127:3-5

I began to pray that my child would be an arrow in the Lord's hands - that he would be a weapon that my Heavenly Father could wield for His glory and purpose. As I prayed and dreamed over the precious baby growing inside of me, Eric and I settled on his name - Jack Ryan. We always loved the name Jack, and Ryan is Eric's middle name, so the spiritual and personal significance of having Jack share his father's name was important to us. We always want our sweet Jack Ryan to remember that he was made in his Heavenly Father's image. 

When I was pregnant with my second son, two years later, a Scriptural passage I had read many times was revealed to me through Beth Moore's Breaking Free Bible Study in a new, fresh way that made me smile and cry the moment it was unearthed. 

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

because the Lord has anointed me

to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives

and release from darkness for the prisoners,

to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor

and the day of vengeance of our God, 

to comfort all who mourn

and provide for those who grieve in Zion -

to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes

the oil of joy instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.

They will be called oaks of righteousness,

a planting of the Lord

for the display of his splendor.

Isaiah 61:1-3

The Hebrew word for sent in the second verse is shalach, which means to send, or stretch forth. It also is the same verb used to describe shooting arrows to scatter the enemy, as in 2 Samuel 22:15. John 3:16 names Jesus as God's one and only Son. As I pictured God, in His glory and might, standing poised with a bow in His hands, taking aim at the earth and firing His one and only arrow, I wept at the way these Scriptural passages all intertwined so beautifully. 

The moment I became aware that I was having another boy, I knew the child was going to be a powerful arrow in God's hands. I felt, (and still do), that he would be involved in the mission field and embrace a lifestyle true to one of the Lord's warriors. Eric and I chose the name Gabriel for our second son, a fitting name for a strong, messenger of God. And as my eyes fell fresh on these verses, Arrow became his middle name. I want my precious Gabriel Arrow to remember who he belongs to, and what his mission is on this Earth.

My third baby boy came by way of surprise, after a year of trying to get pregnant. I had prayed earnestly for a third baby, much like Hannah did in 1 Samuel. It was a year of heartbreak and discouragement and confusion. And then God answered our prayers - in such an unexpected way. As Eric and I were discussing possibilities for names, I felt deep down that the waiting and the way God answered our prayers wasn't something to be overlooked with this child. God had a special plan in place for this baby, that I knew. Through the waiting, I learned how to discern God's voice. He was calling Eric and I say yes to something big - and used this period of waiting to speak to our hearts. The Lord used the year of waiting to shepherd my heart and teach me what His voice sounds like... so Samuel Shepherd became the name of our third baby boy. I want my sweet Samuel to know His Father's voice, and what a gift he is to everyone he encounters.

My three beautiful, strong arrows - Jack, Gabriel and Samuel - are a constant reminder of what God did for me when he sent Jesus to this Earth. I recently bought a necklace bearing three arrows - each arrow representing one of my children, to serve as a reminder of the blessing that they are to me, as well as how I should be spending my time with them. As I look ahead into a new year, one thing I know for sure - these boys have been given to me to equip, teach, encourage and discipline. Proverbs 27:17 reminds me that just like iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another. As I approach this new year, my goal remains the same as it always has - to build up the character of my boys so they are confident in who they are, trusting the Lord to guide them. May this year be focused on sharpening my children so that they may be sturdy arrows in His hands, unwavering from their mark, confident in their aim, sure in their journey through life - no matter who or what opposes them.