We forgot the two-year-old's life jacket. He's not the kind of kid you take to the lake without a life-jacket. He's currently a fearless, struggling listener__ a bad combination around water.
The baby was hot and hadn't slept a wink all morning.
The big kids had a blast floating on inner tubes and I took pictures with the baby strapped to my chest.
You winked at me in the parking lot and asked if I was okay and I sort of half smiled and mumbled, "That didn't quite turn out the way I had envisioned it." You laughed and said, "We're gonna miss this someday."
We couldn't have been laying there but 30 seconds before we heard both littles crying. You graciously got up and got the baby settled back down and 30 seconds later there was another kid hollering from upstairs, yelling MAMA at the top of his lungs.
You smiled at me.
We both got up and went back to work, me lovin on treasures and you mowing fields.
So much for nap time. :)
While you were mowing, the Ninja placed perfectly even piles of Miracle Grow pellets all over the drive way, half choked on a wad of hair-ties that he decided would be a good idea to put in his mouth, then smeared his peanut butter and honey sandwich all over his hair during dinner.
I gave him a bath and put him to bed a bit early.
The baby fussed most of the afternoon. We tried every trick in the book to help the little love feel better, but nothing seemed to help.
We're in that season with her, the one we've been through with all of them. The season where everything is pretty much a guess; the season where she could be tired, or hungry, or it could be her teeth, or a belly ache, or an ear infection. So we guessed away all afternoon and she finally sacked out at 6, a I took a deep breath in when I closed the door to her room.
The kids helped you move the horses to the neighbors field this afternoon and the boys climbed trees until it was dark. I heard the girls laughing themselves silly on the swings as the sun was setting.
Fathers Day for the folks under the farmhouse was kind of just another seemingly ordinary day.
Our kids are real kids and our days are real days__ days filled with mishaps and major fits__ days filled with sisters laughing and brothers climbing trees. And in the midst of it all there is really no reason our family cannot find a reason to rejoice, because in reality there is nothing for which we cannot declare gratitude, joy, and praise. We can rejoice simply because we are the workmanship of a delighted creator--a savior who rescued us and rejoices over us. He is always enough for all of our days.
I whisper it to myself while picking up matchbox cars off the living room floor, "Lord, I want to trust this, love this, and own this. I want to rejoice in all these crazy, treasure-raising days because no matter my circumstance, I am always your workmanship__no matter my circumstance, you are delighted in me because I am yours__ no matter my circumstance, I am rescued and redeemed and that is always a reason to rejoice."
So you and I, we sat on the front porch after our crew was all in bed and we watched a lightening storm come in over the mountains. You put on our favorite Tim McGraw album and you kissed me long right there in my rocking chair.
What I'm most thankful for these days is that in all our craziness, He says He delights in us, and we can smile in the chaos and keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Happy Fathers Day, My Love___
Here's to days of controlled chaos, deep breaths, smiles, and winks! Cheers to the glory of all things ordinary! :)
