so many things to be thankful for....but there is this one...

At the risk of publishing a book about our "Big O", as my thoughts continually drift to him when I consider topics to write about, I bring you yet another story.
This last week, we did a little celebration for American Thanksgiving. I love Thanksgiving, and have often thought it would be wonderful to discover how many countries have this official holiday, and celebrate them all!
However, that is another topic. I love the gathering of friends and family around a table spread with delicious flavours and smells. At some point in the conversation, we like to allow everyone to share something or someone that they are thankful for.
Now, Ocean loves a good party, and the joy of it is often abundant on his face. I smiled at him, and asked him if there was anything he was thankful for? He looked up at me, flashed a huge grin, thrust his finger into the sky and yelled, "God!"
I was speechless, and as tears sprang to my eyes, I recognized the feeling that flooded over the joy inside me....it was hope.

Supposed to...

Why do I do the things I do?
I look at my daily "to-do" list... I am a big fan of lists. I love seeing chores, errands, phone calls to make, ...all of these being tedious items, I am not really that boring, or maybe...anyhow, I am getting sidetracked, I love seeing them written down on paper, so that upon completion, I can physically cross them out. But, what motivates me to do these things, I can't believe that is only for the small satisfaction of crossing them off. No, I am sure that I am not so shallow, so trivial, that I am unable to have deeper meaning behind the many tasks that often make up my day.
My day consists of many "have-tos". I have to get out of bed, seemingly a hard thing as of late. I have to feed my children, and dress them, and sometimes it is trying to have so many little people completely dependant on you. I have to wash clothes, which is not a complaint, by the way. Sometimes, the "have-tos" are not really "have-tos", my attitude just makes them that way.
I remember as a child, asking an authority figure, "Do I have to?" The response was usually a cryptic, "You don't have to, you get to." Different perspectives, I suppose.
The world of "should-haves" is constantly banging in the corners of my mind. I find difficulty in not succumbing to the pressures of that place outside my comfort zone that is dragging at me. My husband if forever faithful at reminding me to not live with regrets.
And, then there are the "supposed tos". These are the hardest of them all. The things that are in the future, that I generally view with apprehension. Or, the things I do, not because I want to, or have to, but that I am, well, supposed to. This list is also the longest. This list often requires commitment and sacrifice, two things that often don't come naturally for me, but if I persevere, and finish, there is much joy.
I took this picture of Meadow on her first day of kindergarten. You are supposed to do that right? I was so proud of her, excited for her, nervous for her....the morning was hurried, the slow, careful moments that should have been taken for such an event didn't happen. Four months later, I am still so proud of her, her independence, her smile.
I concur with Solomon, when God offered him anything, anything, he had only to choose. He chose wisdom. As I look at my days, my to-do lists, my husband, my four beautiful children, that is what I crave... wisdom. This was God's reply to me:
"if any of you lack wisdom, you should ask of God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you!"
I believe all of my have-tos just changed to get tos!

Ocean

We celebrated Ocean's 8th birthday last week. I am still in awe that I have been on the "Ocean" journey for 8 years. For a few of his birthdays, we would have big celebrations. We wanted to celebrate his life and all that he is. Lately, however, we have kept the idea simple. For that is who he is, simple. And, I don't mean that in a bad way, I mean the way he sees life. Don't get me wrong, he still loves his balloons, his candles, and his chocolate cake, but we keep the invites to a minimum.
I hope they don't mind me mentioning them, but I love to celebrate his birthday with our friends, the Genns. I feel, in a way, they have walked the "Ocean" journey along side us. When Josh blessed our meal and prayed for Ocean, it was with a love that only someone who has known him for a long time could pray, and I am so thankful to know them and have them know our Ocean.
I think that all of the unknowns that make up our life together forces me to trust. I find there is very little we have to trust for anymore. We have insurance for our houses, for our cars, for our health, for our very lives, for our spouses life, and for our future.
We spend our days planning, planning our days, our weekends, our vacations, and our retirements. Our security is as important to us as the air we breathe. The day we allowed ourselves to believe that we may never have an answer for who Ocean is, the day we looked that last doctor in the eye as he told us that he didn't know, that was the beginning of a journey of learning to trust my God.
I looked up at the sky, I knew Someone who knew. He knew why Ocean was the way he was. He knew what Ocean's purpose was here on this earth. I wish I could say that Ocean was here to grow our family in strength, and patience, and love, and humility. He certainly has done all of these things. I wish I could say that Ocean was here, so that all the many people involved in his life could meet Jesus through our family. I sincerely hope that has happened. But, the truth is, I still cannot say for sure. I still wish we had an earthly answer. I would love to be able to say Ocean is the way he is because of... the better answer is, Jesus made him, and I trust Him completely, for He does all things well.

still..

I was asked the other day if I still write. hmmm...so I sat down, placed my fingers on the keyboard, and stared at the screen. I know that I have lots to write about, but to bring those thoughts together into a comprehensible post is similar to the collecting of marbles after Ocean has had his way with them. I guess you have to know Ocean to understand that last sentence.
I last wrote in July, asking if I still write is like asking if I still shower on a daily basis or have regular dates with my husband or if my baby is sleeping through the night.
yes, but so rarely that when they occur, regardless of any other events that day, there is joy.
I've been busy, sure I have, hasn't everyone? I rush around, making my lists, running my errands, seeing my friends, chauffeuring my kids, walking my dog...and I realized that life changes. I am so glad that it does. I can't imagine doing what I do every day for the rest of my life.
The one absolute in my life, in my world is God. He tells me to "be still and know that I am God." In all of the busyness, in all of the craziness that is my life, God is there, and He wants me to stop, if just for a moment, be still, and acknowledge Him.

Forgetful

I am ashamed. An apology stutters from my mouth at least once a day, usually going something like this..."Oh, I am so sorry, I know that I wrote it down somewhere..." or "was that today, yes, you told me, I just... I'm sorry, I forgot."
Why can't I remember everything that I need to remember? Why do I forget appointments, and grocery lists, and things to return, and bills to pay, stock to order, and phone calls to answer? Why did I not remember that I told my daughter we would go to the park this morning? Or, how could I possibly not remember my friend's birthday, or that my husband bikes EVERY Tuesday night?
The laundry was forgotten out on the line, now it is raining. The french toast, yep, that is definitely a burnt smell. My baby, my sweet baby, when was the last time I changed her diaper?!
I did sign up for that, didn't I? I wrote that down on something, somewhere.
Yes, I am on my way, I always say that I am five minutes late for every kid, ha ha. Would it be alright if I added an extra five for my dog?
You sent an email? I haven't checked that today, or maybe it has been a few days. Yes, the mail, I believe I checked that yesterday, or was that last week? Who put the coffee creamer in the microwave? And, I was positive that I put soap in the dishwasher...
There are moments I want to never forget, and moments that I wish I could erase from my memory forever. How can it be that when I am hurt by others, my pride and self will hold on to that hurt, clinging to my rights to be treated respectfully and appropriately, and so easily forget that I have also been the offender? And, even if cling stubbornly to my right to demand forgiveness or to withhold forgiveness, I so easily forget the predestined grace I bathe in on a daily basis.
I haven't been diagnosed with Alzheimer's yet, but if I ever am, I pray that I will never forget all of God's benefits. He forgives all my sins, and healeth all of my diseases, He redeemed my life from destruction, and covers me with loving kindness and tender mercies, He satisfies my mouth with good things, and He is merciful, gracious, slow to anger and plenteous in mercy.

to be..

It was a beautiful day. The sun was warm, and bright, and well, it was there. We hadn't seen it in at least a week, although I knew it was there, just waiting to come out.
I sipped my coffee and contemplated this day, this special day. Twelve years ago, this day, Blue and I were married. It has, to date, been one of the happiest days of my life. I was, am, madly in love with this man. For some, this love that makes a marriage, that ties two people together is based on feelings, on circumstances, on actions. Our marriage is not perfect, but it is a gift, a good gift from the One who is perfect and good and love.
We often struggle with special days, anniversaries, birthdays, and the such. The constant demands of life pulling such that to add something extra is too great. I feel the pressure, often in advance, to "do something", to make this day different than any of our other days. I forget, forget that I have a wonderful husband, who loves me. I forget that I have four beautiful children who give so much to my life. I forget that every day is special.
So, as this anniversary approached, I reminded Blue, I made plans, I contacted a babysitter, so that we could have a few minutes alone. Then, I discover that Blue has inadvertantly registered for a bike race on this day. This day, our special day! I was hurt, and I was angry. He apologizes, he cancels, he tells me he loves me. No, I am sure that this day, this special day is ruined!
The night before, he returns from a ride and as he turns to face me, I see that his face is covered in blood. Fear races through by body, but unfortunately leaves my body with the face of anger. I lash out at him, covering my fear with blame, somehow this all must be his fault.
So, this morning of this special day, I sip my coffee. Our babysitter was unable to come, so this day is made more special by the vibrant presence of our four little ones. My sweet man is making us breakfast. We will drift away the afternoon by the river, picnicing, and splashing in the water. And, I am so grateful, am so blessed, am so content to be.

the end of a beautiful friendship

it has been a long time. Since I have written, I mean.
Yesterday's to-do list has become today's.
There are no longer activities that differentiate one day from another.
The days seem longer somehow, filled with small, menial tasks, that added up all of a sudden become so important.
I long for the world outside mine, yet pull away from it at the same time, as if I no longer belong.
If I allow too many weeks, so many days, often many minutes to drift by without a reminder of Who the true source of joy is, of Who my joy is, I am resigned. Resigned to the drudgery of daily tasks that although completed are never truly complete. Resigned to the anxiety, the fear, the helplessness, the heaviness that never seems to leave, and will reign, if I allow it.
God tells me to "be anxious for nothing." Nothing. that is a massive word, encompassing all that I know, all that I treasure, all that I fear. Over the last few years, why sound so vague? Over the last 3 years, 2 months, and 21 days, I have fought a fierce battle with anxiety.
And, can it be true? Tomorrow it is all to end? We have accepted an offer on our condo, and tomorrow, everything will be finalized. A weight, a weight that has taught us so much will be lifted.
Am I "jumping the gun", "counting my eggs before they hatch"? No, I don't think so. For, if I have learned one thing in the last few years, I have learned that God, my God, is trustworthy,and faithful, and merciful, and loving.
Lamentations 3:22-23 "It is of the LORD's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not.
They are new every morning; great is Thy faithfulness."

Willow Anne Falconer

Two and a half weeks ago, our lives, once again, changed forever. On April 8, 2010, at 10:30 p.m., Willow Anne Falconer was born. She is beautiful and perfect,awe-inspiring and miraculous. When the doctor placed her on my chest and announced that she was a girl, I just wanted to sob with gratitude. My heart felt as if it would explode with love for this little person that I did not yet know, but would as of that first moment of introduction, give anything for. Everyone around us disappeared, and there was just the two of us, soaking in the euphoria of love at first sight.
She is our fourth child, and with each one, I have wondered how my heart can possibly love another child as much as I do the one I already have. And, with each one, my heart effortlessly stretches to envelope this new little one.
We brought her home a few days later, and for two weeks enjoyed the loving support of my dad. His time and efforts spent with our three older kids, and making meals, and even doing dishes, helped to soften the shock of life with four children.
Yet, the past few weeks have, for me, been a bit of a blur.
From the wisps of fog that surround my brain, I can recall the memories of good friends bringing delicious meals and desiring a peak at the baby. I seem to remember that relentless newborn cry that wants to feed every hour or two instead of every three like they are supposed to. I remember my sweet husband rubbing my back as I drag my exhausted body from bed several times a night to feed our baby. My son's frantic voice as he yells, a moment too late "Mom, poo!, it's coming out!"
My daughter's persistent need to know why the baby can't play with her yet, and if the baby likes having her as a big sister. My darling Ocean, always trying to pull my shirt up when he hears the baby crying, is quickly learning what is needed to make her happy.
All of this, and much more, culminated in a good, long cry yesterday. I was actually proud of myself for making it that long. I have always liked the verse in Psalms that tells us that God keeps all of our tears in a bottle. I actually laughed as I imagined God fumbling for another bottle as I filled up bottle after bottle. I am so thankful that He doesn't fumble, and that He knew I was going to have a cry, and exactly how many tears I would shed. A long cry is cleansing, healthy, I have decided. For I definitely felt better after.
I also felt better after a talk with my sister. She had her fourth three months ago, so I knew if anyone could identify exactly with how I felt, it would be her.
I was right. She is wise, and sweet and loving. She told me exactly what I needed to hear.
II Corinthians 9:8 "AND GOD IS ABLE to make all grace abound toward you; that ye, always having ALL sufficiency in ALL things, may abound to every good work:"

I may not always feel able, or even capable, but my God is, and will give me sufficient grace for every situation!

He is Risen!

Four more days until my due day. I think that sitting around, waiting to go into labor is one of the most difficult things to go through. Well, maybe besides the labor itself, or, ok, I can think of a million more difficult things to go through.

Maybe the sitting around part is what is so frustrating. And, I am not really sitting around. I go to sleep every night, thinking, "this is it, this baby is coming tonight!" Then, I get a little panicked, thinking of a few more things I would like to get done before the baby comes.

I think that Blue is annoyed with me. I am thinking he is annoyed that I keep coming up with more projects to do, and he wouldn't feel so guilty about not always helping me if I would just sit on the couch and put my feet up. But, this "nesting" syndrome is uncontainable, I just can't sit for long.

The weather is warming up, spring is definitely around the corner. Talk swirls around me, about getting out, going on vacations, training for whatever race or adventure is coming up. And, believe me, living in Canmore, AB, there is always someone or many someones training for something. Considering how I get out of breath climbing my stairs, one can see how this can be a little discouraging for me.

Easter is tomorrow, and as I was busily preparing my Easter brunch for tomorrow, I began to think about my Lord and how He felt on this weekend. He too was waiting, knowing in advance that He was going to die a terribly painful death. For what? For who? For me, to give me life. I wonder if He was anxious, constantly thinking of more He needed to accomplish before that night. I wonder if He was bothered by the talk of others around Him. Tomorrow, we celebrate the fact that He is alive, the grave could not hold Him. Before the beginnings of this world, before I was conceived, He loved me, He planned to die for me so that I could live!

So, for this reason, and for the wonderful, imminent birth of our baby, I can only rejoice!

Five more weeks...

Someone told me that February is over. They must have been telling me the truth, for a call came today reminding me of a meeting I am to attend on March 4th. And, March comes after February. Right?
I love this picture of Meadow on the swings. I see so much future in her smile, hear inspiration in her laugh, smell the coming spring in the mud on her shoes, yet the wind of winter is still in her cheeks.
Most of all, I crave the inspiration.
I wish I could say that I crave inspiration to do something great. Perhaps I could write a book, or start a preppy home-business, or learn to play the guitar, create something magnificent with my hands. No, I am looking for inspiration to make dinner in the evening, the only thing the comes to mind lately is spaghetti. Inspiration to present an amazing, imaginative idea to my two little ones staring up at me with adoring eyes. I stare blankly at the kitchen table, which became an arts and crafts station soon after breakfast. I stare longingly at the sofa, well, what I can see of it after Meadow and Forest have finished their fort. I glance sideways at the laundry room as I pass by, do we really own that many clothes? And, are there any left in our dressers? Climbing the stairs, I grab the shelf for balance. That gray matter left on my fingers can't possibly be dust. As I reach the top of the stairs, I realize that I am breathing heavily, and have to bend over, grab my knees, in order to catch my breath. Surely, I am still weak from the cold we all had last week. I couldn't possibly be "out of shape". I bemusedly look at my figure in the bathroom mirror, "out of shape" is an understatement!
I decide it is time to turn the page on the calendar. There is no use denying the coming of March. I see the pencil marking on March 2, "five more weeks" and,get this, a big smiley face! My breathing gets heavy again, almost hysterical. I sit down and put my head between my knees. Breathe, Breathe! I talk to myself alot. A habit developed over time, lots of time spent alone with toddlers. So, I began to give myself the necessary pep talk.
You can do this, Deb. God's grace is sufficient. He will not give you more than you can handle. His strength is made perfect in weakness. And, in five weeks, with the birth of our new little one, I will be very weak. I am thanking Him five weeks in advance. I am thanking Him for all of the "God-moments" I am going to experience. Those moments when there is no denying that higher Being helped me to survive. I am thanking Him for His inspiration, for His strength, for His grace, for His mercy.
Five more weeks, I can hardly wait!

A dramatic 2010...

A couple of weeks ago, we were driving to church when our van suddenly lost power. It is very eerie to be coasting down a mountain road in the dark. The other fact that made the whole situation eerie was that all three of our kids were silent. My wonderful husband managed to conjole the old girl, that would be our van, to a stop about half a block from the church. I was content with that, but as we made our way that last little stretch to the building, I was also filled with that sick feeling that always accompanies car troubles.
Our church always shares "God-stories" after worship, and this has always been something that I love about our service. Sometimes the stories are happy, praising God for something He did that week, sometimes, prayer is requested as struggles are revealed. This particular week, there were a lot of happy stories about amazing things that only our God can do. Instead of joy, I felt numb, as if lead flowed through my veins instead of blood. My limbs were heavy, and I couldn't move.
As the stories came to a close, our pastor began to share a message about the new year, 2010. He proceeded to remind us of the truth that we are part of God's story, not the center, but a part. He challenged us to live a dramatic 2010, to view everything that occurs in our lives this year as part of His story.
I was starting to tingle now, as if my entire body had fallen asleep. My heart began to cry out, "Please, God, no more drama! A peaceful 2010, a smooth 2010, but, have mercy, not a dramatic 2010!"
Over the course of the past weeks, I have remained numb, and if I allow my heart to feel, my soul to speak, only doubt flows out. Ashamed of that doubt, I have remained silent.
Last week, I realized that my wedding ring was missing. In desperation, I tore the house apart, blamed my children, cried over the loss, and as a final effort to restore that ring to my finger, I begged God to show me where it was. My daughter found me on my knees, and asked me what I was doing. I told her that only one person knew where my ring was, and I was asking Him to help me. She looked me in the eye and said, "God doesn't exist, Mom, He doesn't know where your ring is, and can't help you find it."
I was shocked. I could only sputter, "Why? why do you think that?"
"Because I can't see Him." and she walked away.
I lay on the floor for a long time, staring at the ceiling. God exists, there is no doubt about that. But, why is it so difficult for me to trust Him?
I thought back on the last three years. We purchased a condo, completed the reno, placed it on the market, only to have it burn down two months later. God has taught me so much through that trial,and yet, at this time, all I could remember was that I have begged God to sell it for us, and that hasn't happened yet.
I thought back on our beautiful son, Ocean, for whom we have asked God to grow, and now, all I could think of was that I had a seven year old with the size and mental capacity of a three-year-old, without a single medical explanation. I began to shake my fist at the heavens, and questioned, not God's existence, but His silence.
God is faithful, God is good, and promises that if we seek Him, we will find Him, so, of course, He revealed Himself to me.
I opened the Bible, and read about a man named David. In a Bible study that I am presently doing, I was reminded that David was anointed by Samuel to be king of Israel at the age of fifteen. David didn't actually become king until he was thirty-seven. That is a twenty-two year gap!! I know that I have been anointed, not necessarily to be king of a nation, but to be a child of a King. Those twenty-two years were not wasted by David, he completed menial tasks, care-taker of the sheep, delivery boy for his brothers on the battlefield, harp player for the king, but everything he did, whether big or small was done for God's glory.
Every task he was given was also accompanied by the God-given ability to accomplish it. When he defeated the giant, Goliath, he shouted, "...I come to you in the name of the Lord of heaven's armies....today the Lord will defeat you, and all the world will know there is a God in Israel!"
I knew that the giant I was facing was my own doubt. I looked to the Psalms, written by David, in praise to God..."let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love. I am trusting in you..."
I would love to find my ring, I would rejoice if our condo sold and released us of that huge financial burden, I would run in the streets if Ocean could talk and read and do so many of the things that seven year olds do, but if I must wait another twenty-two years, I will continue to trust in God and His unfailing love for me.