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