Bauer, the Christmas Dog

This Christmas, though all my prayers about getting a dog have been met with a firm 'NO' from the Lord, we were still blessed with a dog.

For an indefinite amount of time (until Bauer's wonderful owners come home with their new baby) we will be caring for him...

I giggled when all of this came to be and realized, 'oh my goodness!  I got a dog for Christmas this year...'   God has heard Benjamin's and my prayers - He leaps for joy at the idea of blessing us - just not exactly the way we had planned.

Bauer is a well-behaved and energetic border collie -- the next week or two will be full of days at the park throwing the ball... lounging around with a dog at our feet in front of the fire... and opening presents Christmas morning with a dog sniffing at all the wrapping.

I AM SO EXCITED!!

Apron Armor II

Without more ado, the Fiend threw a flaming dart at Christian's breast.  But Christian had his shield in his hand, and so prevented him.  Then Christian drew his sword, for he saw it was time to bestir himself.  And the Fiend made fast at him, and threw darts as thick as hail.  And though he did all he could to avoid them, and in spite of the new armour that he wore, Christian was wounded in the head, the hand, the foot, and forced to yield ground. 

This excerpt from Dangerous Journey was one we read tonight as a family... and oh the timing.  Today was a Hell of a day - literally.  Satan was attacking at all sides and at all moments trying to ground me - and to be quite honest, many of those moments I fell and upon pulling myself back up had to, once again, repent and beg the God of abounding grace for forgiveness.  

The morning began with Katie walking into the bathroom and complaining that her eyes felt funny - before even looking at her my heart stopped and my entire week of change flashed before me... 

leeky-eye larissa

no leader's meeting, no leading discussion, no refreshing time of hearing others' stories of God's amazing revelations, no school for her, no school for days?, washing lots of sheets with Silver Care... and then I met her gaze.  God be with me - pink eye to boot.  Both eyes.

I calmly asked her to not talk.  To just be quiet and let Mommy think.  Any slip of her voice was quieted with a swift pointer finger to my shushing lips.  She stood still, very still.  She stared at me wide-pink-and-crusty-eyed.  Is it bad that I wasn't sure I should touch her?  The plague had already come and gone and then come again and was gone again - do I pretend like I don't see it and shuffle her quickly through a hot shower smiling and reciting my lines to her teacher under my breath?  Rehearsing all the reasons why this is beneficial or just maybe she doesn't have an infectious disease?  Why being at leader's meeting this morning was more important than caring for her clearly unclear tear ducts and nursing her back to health?  I stopped all the thoughts and looked at my daughter, now crying that her Mom has so quickly shifted her attention to 'what am I going to do now?' thoughts, and I began pulling my hair back into a knot... I hugged her tightly against my towel and whispered, 'now you can't go to school with pink eye can you?' and she, as though relief flooded her, began to cry really hard.

I walked into my bedroom and pulled on a sweatshirt and jeans - NOT my usual Tuesday morning attire, herded the kids to the kitchen and put on my apron armor.  I began darting between making waffles and texting people whose day would be affected by my sick child (still not having reached empathy yet, this is how I referred to her).  Everyone so graciously and lovingly offered their thoughts and prayers - nothing near to the negative thoughts I was having of myself not being able to accomplish all my tasks and get done what people were depending on me to get done.  Instead, these gentle words were reminders of how important it was to get right perspective... and the Enemy was lurking.  He saw me wavering on the fence between condemnation and grace - and He was about to tear me to shreds were it up to him.

thick-skin theo

Its been a rough day - full of anger and doubt and exhaustion in parenting.  From a tough phone call with my husband and the thickness of my youngest boys' skin towards discipline in general, I shed a lot of tears.  I dropped my oh-so-cleverly dubbed 'apron of armor' at my feet and gave up.  In fact, I shed so many tears today that I took a pregnancy test!  I've been looking past the EPT for months when in need of other toiletries still left unpacked from the old house and today I would most definitely be using it - I needed its fortune.  I pulled it out and tucked it quickly in the pocket of my hoodie and walked to the bathroom - you know the drill.  Of course, nothing.  So back to reality, the Enemy was upon me and the desire to succumb to him was oppressive.  And it was becoming obvious that I wasn't attune to the fact that what God has been doing in and through me and in and through those around me was, in fact, a mighty work.  

I was dinner for the Enemy.  A delectable dinner.

Jeremiah 46:3-4 says, "Order the buckler and shield, and draw near the battle!  Harness the horses and mount up, you horsemen!  Stand forth with your helmets, polish the spears, put on the armor!"  

I fought today, not real well though... and I must repent!  I'm thankful tonight that I serve a gracious and mighty God who in my weakness is strong (2 Corinthians 12:9).  

  

And by the end of the day today, I had put the apron over my head and pulled it tight around my waist. I tied the bow carefully and with each loop remembered the mighty God I serve and the attack that would ensue were I to believe, if even for an instant, that His way is the only way leading to everlasting life. And as my hands dropped to my sides and I walked into the kitchen I was reminded...

Today, Krista, you called a sister in Christ to accountability.
Today, Krista, that sister smiled and rejoiced in your obedience.
Today, Krista, that sister called you to accountability.
Today, Krista, that someone you called to accountability called someone else to accountability yesterday - I am using the both of you to affirm in each other Who I Am.
Today, Krista, Benjamin cleaned up all his Legos and was full of pride in his work of obedience to you... someday he will rejoice in his obedience to Me. I promise.
Today, Krista, your daughter felt your love.
Today, Krista, the Enemy was held at bay...

So tomorrow, Krista, put on your armor and be prepared.  I'm going to do some mighty things - you better believe it... (matthew 21:22) 

Apron Armor

I'm a much better Mom when I wear my apron.  Any one of my aprons really.  I do prefer my bright colors offset by white striped english version that Jamie bought me in London years ago but I'll take the chili peppers or Starbucks or Berges Family Reunion souvenirs to get the job done.

The Mom job.

What I've realized is that if I shower, dress (for success) and then wrap myself in an apron, I'm far less likely to argue waffles and syrup, jelly toast and gummy oatmeal when the kids wake up.  I also enjoy my cup of coffee to the nth degree - I walk around with it as the coffee threatens to slosh over the side.  My heart is zeroed in on the hearts of my children as opposed to the logistics of the morning - those things just seem to fall into place - not to mention, they can't get past my apron.

It's beginning to feel a little magical, to be quite honest with you.  The school folders seem to fall open, papers leap from the pocket and fall into the appropriate box in the dining room; school lunch boxes lay open ready to be filled with healthy and wholesome foods such as PB&Honey, yogurt and granola (homemade - thanks apron!), locally grown carrots and apples, fruit leather and ope! a piece of Halloween candy.  The kids' little metal water bottles are filled with ice to keep the lunch cold and I write a love note before zipping up the contents - the love note is an extension of my Mom.  Not a day went by where I didn't open my lunch growing up (insert Ego in Ratatouille's flashback here) and see a huge circle with a smiley face inside and a love note... I've decided we are never too old - still wish I got those to this day.

With my apron I do amazing things like get my dishes done immediately after a meal, stack the dishwasher throughout the day as opposed to cramming it an night, read to my children, let them color and do homework instead of watch She-Ra and let them help cook while I dance around the kitchen wiping my hands shamelessly across my stomach ridding my fingers of flour and sugar and everything that threatens to take my time.  I have another apron where this came from -- let's cook!  Let's freeze our extras and save it for another dinner!  Better yet, let's give it to someone in need!  Whisk, stir, fold til your heart's content!

It. Is. Magic.

Today my children received so many disciplines (yes, we spank) because of their disobedience.  It has become a recipe for disaster when the little NOs become bigger NOs and then the bigger NOs make Mom incredibly frustrated - and I can only attribute it to my inconsistency.  Today, with my apron tied tight across my low-back, I marched those little cherubs into my room and disciplined them with the love of Jesus Christ.  I do believe there was deeper respect as their eyes followed from my toes... up... up... up... over my apron and rested on my face - they were calm and full of humility.  As was I.

My apron has become what I am now going to refer to as my Armor of God.

"Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having girded your waist with truth, having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace; above all, taking the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one.  Ephesians 6:13-16

I don't believe a day will go by when I'm not wearing my apron in and around the house - I will meditate on the armor of God and the fruit that comes from taking it up daily... and I will be a better Mom, Wife and Lover of Jesus because of it.

Not necessarily in that order.

Today is Tuesday.

On Monday night I'm quickly preparing lunches and backpacks; ironing clothes and laying out all of our shoes for the morning.  I'm unable to execute all of the morning's activities in the surprisingly short 150 minutes between 0530 and 0800 so I won't claim to... the majority of the work is done the night before leaving room for unruly children, angry Moms and unpredictable circumstances such as juice spills, bathroom accidents, undone homework surprises and the occasional texting/emailing back and forth to other Mom's whose lives intersect with mine on a daily basis.

Deep breath.  That was a long sentence - such is my life.

Contradictory to my usual Monday night routine, I sat at my kitchen table having not showered for two days, forehead in my hands and staring down at my BSF questions that had yet to be done.  My 'healthy' child had fallen asleep at 6:15pm not feeling so 'healthy' and my two unhealthy kids were in the throws of getting fed and readied for bed -- they both had pink eye and other infections to boot, were on meds now and not quite on the mend yet.  At the moment I sat at the table, head in my hands staring at my BSF, I thought, 'not again... not again... not again...'  My children's infirmity had slowly been chipping away at my ability to stay motivated and full of good spirits - its been replaced with the I-didn't-see-it-coming exhaustion and anger.  Its now been four weeks and we've had sores all over the inside of our cheeks to low-grade fever and irritability; diarrhea to green and crusty goo coming from our sinus cavity.  You know, the kind that makes you cringe when you turn on the kitchen light in the morning and stare into the face of your 'cherub'... eyes swollen and goop seeping from the corner; noses clogged with so much crust that you can't see their nostrils - they breath on you as though they are fogging up a mirror.

I can only take so much of it.

So the afternoon is here and all children are resting -- it is quiet and calm in my house.  In the next couple hours tomorrow will come into focus and I will begin preparing for what its supposed to look like... snotty or not, I know that the prayers of those around me have been heard and are keeping me abreast of all that needs to get done; and the peace that has been mine today has been inexplainable --

God is good and He is good for tomorrow too.

ready. set. go.

I rolled over in bed this morning to my 'ascending' alarm on my iPhone -- I hit the SNOOZE option and laid my head back on my pillow, staring at the ceiling.  God had another big day for me - today I would climb out of bed once again with my husband out of town, shower and dress; feed children and pull lunches from the refrigerator; pack backpacks and tie shoes -- out the door and on the road to school by 8:15.

So I opened to Proverbs.  I could use some flooding of wisdom before beginning.

Today I had a workshop to be at with no idea of what to expect - other than I knew it'd be good.  It would be a time of getting serious about God's Word - more specifically, getting serious in community with other women about God's Word.  It was the beginning of what will be a big year in my life... another big year.

Through His faithfulness He has provided; through His sovereignty he has brought elements of life together that I couldn't have dreamed up; through His love he has pruned the 'not so beneficial' from my life and filled the void with life-giving experiences of deeper dependency on Him.  He has drawn me so close and whispered so tenderly to me - I want to be right here.  Right now. 

Today was a great day - and God is promising to be faithful as long as I'm responsive to His leading.

Thank you Julie for your words this morning as we spoke about traveling husbands; thank you Cheney as we talked over dinner on the patio while the kids ran through the park; thank you to Susie for sharing how God surprised you this summer with such a moving story of His miraculous power...

and thank you Jesus for the opportunity to partner with you in what you are doing.

just the 4 of us

when daddy travels

j-bug

this little girl walks in my front door and i smile.  she's easy on the eyes with her baby blues and platinum head of hair cut to match her mama's.  it takes all my self-control to keep from giving her gum drops and lollipops; licorice ropes and chewy candies.

tonight i was making dinner with my mother in law when j-bug let herself in through the front screen door... she was asking for a drink.  i pulled open my Tupperware drawer o' plastic cups and pulled out a choice sippie - albeit, not 'choice' for j-bug.  her eyes were glued on the aqua one and so she smiled and looked sideways up at me, 'i wahn dat wun...' as her eyes sparkled and danced, her mouth drawn in a sweet grin as she waited...

i pulled out the aqua cup and helped her fill it from the front of the fridge.  she walked out the front door and ten minutes later walked in saying she was hungry.  with fresh bread in hand, she casually strolled back out the front door... waddling with such grace that you knew she was grinning from ear to ear.  she had me... and she knew it.

after the dinner was prepped and the spread was laid out on the picnic table, my dear j-bug came to visit.  having smelled the fresh roasted bird from the driveway, she came quickly but with caution.  her manners were present, her voice was even yet somewhere in there one could sense a bridled hunger - it made her fidgety.  she awkwardly climbed atop my picnic bench and made herself at home.

of course, i grabbed the camera.  and of course, she was cooperative while i shot...

had i no more than myself to feed, i would have given her most of the bird.  had i not cared about keeping with her mom's care for manners, i would have let her eat as i shot photos of her devouring a chicken carcass with her cute little fingers... but alas, she was gently summoned to come home and eat and leave us to our dinner.  she walked away with a sweetness in her step and a 'see you tomorrow' in her smile - and yes, her eyes sparkled.

jeepin'

With our new home came a neighborhood saturated with wonderful families and children just the right age. M and J-bug live directly across the street from us -- and quite honestly, I feel as though I'm living in a storybook. The kids run around oblivious to the busy world outside our street... the acre of grass in the park next door, winding pathways and large deciduous trees create for our kids a type of utopia.

... then add a Power Wheels Jeep and one can barely contain them self.

This coming year holds so many memories ready to be created...

doing normal together

snohomish, washington

kyle and i moved on a Saturday morning, the end of July, to our new home in Snohomish.

kyle flew out a week later to seek a job position in Southern California - one that will allow him to work remotely from the Northwest.  he got the job and we couldn't be more excited.

suddenly things began taking a steep and sharp turn upwards and around as we looked ahead to the consistency that God is laying before us but also the travel that kyle will have to do for his new job, the new home that we've found ourselves in, new terrain that is school and friends and teachers and parents and grocery stores, etc.  Things haven't ever truly been 'normal' for kyle and I since we've been married as God has taken us from one thing to the next but this seemed to be quite a big shift all at once.

our new home

before i knew it we were in 'the week before the ocean' - its a week that comes once every year and is full of preparation, phone calls, excited emails, meal plans and banter between family members.  it is absolutely wonderful and it takes every bit of effort not to over plan...

usually that's how it goes.

this year i found myself hanging in mid-air during that time - i was waiting to hear about kyle's job offer, trying to unpack the office, hosting a get together with a lot of kids and their moms, making sure to note the times of travel for those flying in and out of Sea-Tac and being a Mom to my somewhat discombobulated children.  none of those things are bad... they just take up space in my brain.

now i sit in a wonderful beach front home - windows stained with salt water and cedar shingle siding worn from the wind.  i'm at the dining room table whilst the my kids are upstairs taking their quiet time, my niece is in the room across the hall from them napping and my nephew is tucked in the master closet getting some much needed rest as well.  Mom and Dad are sitting (likely snoozing) out on the back deck listening to the waves crash and Hannah, my just-graduated-from-high-school sister, is off buying taffy at the candy shop down 101.

we are all different.  we are all passionate about our perspectives on life like how to raise children and how to cook a steak; who likes board games and who wants to read; whether to sleep right now or whether to take a walk on the beach - the kids are down!  Though we can find reason to debate the pros and cons of each, we all love and care for each other.  We all wait and wait for this week every year... and there's likely not a better moment than what we're experiencing right now.

we're doing normal together.  katie is often dramatic and feels entitled to her drama; william is often bored if you've not laid out for him what to do next; benjamin is often deliberately disobedient; emma is often sassy and may hit if you touch her George monkey; isaac is likely to scream and stomp when he wants Dad to PICK HIM UP NOW ... these are all normal things.  things that we usually deal with separately and now we get to deal with them together.  this week.  and the fact that this week is my normal in the midst of the abnormal elsewhere in my life, i couldn't be more at ease.

multipurpose clothespins

banana bathed in sunshine

yes, even at the coast we hang our clothes to dry

iBar's reflection

doing laundry

katie's tooth is out!

flying kites

... a homemade kite

watching the flying kites

hawaiian night - thanks to Mom, Dad and Banana!

les and baby Jack on the beach

flying kites with uncle geoff

tomorrow we will all pack up and head out.  we'll finalize the house we want to rent next year and we'll pray together in a circle.  we'll likely shed some tears and as we embrace we will begin counting in our heads how many days left until we're all back here again. 

its been a good day, that's all.

Lilly's Toys

Lilly has been oh-so-kind in sharing her toys with us this week. She has been with us every morning this week (except for Monday, considering I completely forgot about Art Camp starting) - she has come complete with play dough and books, Lincoln Logs and other wonderful toys. Soon we will unpack all our toys and will be able to have children over without all their loot attached.

jetty island

the windshield wipers were set to 'intermittent' on the low setting.  the mist outside was thick but wasn't necessarily getting in the way of my view.  we were making our way to the Jetty Island ferry terminal in Everett where we would meet Jen and Isolde and the kids to frolic in the sands of the great Northwest - mind you, the last couple of days have been absolutely beautiful so our hopes were not irrational.

eli, ben, will and katie sat behind me with their eyes glued to the drops racing down their windows...

'mom... is it going to be sunny where we're going?' inquires Katie as though we're heading to the tropics.

'mom... how far away is it?!' doubts William as though we couldn't get far enough from the dreariness.

'its in Everett...' and in unison, Katie and William gasped, 'Everett?!'  ... and slumped back in their seats.  Not far enough.

the ferry over was short and sweet.  the captain was enjoying himself and we enjoyed his humor.  the bigger kids headed to the top where they were subject to the weather and enjoyed, i imagine, being without supervision for the most part.

we docked and headed across the island -- all 100 yards across and then headed north to where Isolde and Melissa were... the kids stripped to their swimsuits in the cool summer weather and waded into the water.  even Ben headed straight out and got no higher than his waist before i requested he stay put or come back.  the water was wonderfully shallow.  the sand perfectly wet for building.  the company relaxingly down to earth.  and the kids deceivingly warm.

when 11am hit, the children began walking in one. at. a. time. to summon the warmth of coats and towels and request food for their bellies... an hour later, we were all looking around at our blue children who were shivering and less than excited about the surf, wondering how quickly we could hop the ferry back to the mainland.

to our surprise (tells you how cold we were) the ferry was OPEN and ready for passengers as early as 'now'... so we packed up the soaked food, sticky plastic wrappers, heavy towels, sandy shoes, snacking children and dragged ourselves back across the middle of the island.  as i walked, with a 400 lb. pack on my back, wet towels under my arms, lawn chair straps over the opposite shoulder and rain coat zipped to my chin, i lifted my eyes to see William with his backpack on... Eli jumping and running in the sticking sand and benjamin barefoot and dead weight leaving a track of his dragging feet behind him... he was behind me, surprisingly.

i cannot say that i wouldn't do it again.  i would.  there's something about not planning it out... not having a rational reason for the things we do... and allowing life to happen while we invested in what it had to offer in the moment.  it was wonderful and exhausting -- probably the best thing for four kids.

the afterbath

  

the black family

i was honored to be asked to photograph the blacks today -- what a wonderful family... all of them! thank you again, Ali, for asking me - here's a few of the ones i've really enjoyed!  and give my regards to all your loved ones.