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.