Dreams

When she was small I always wondered if I would ever know her gifts, her passions, her talents.

How would I know if I should encourage her in ballet, or writing, or water polo?

Someone once told me, "Just put them in several different activities and you'll discover what they like."

But with many small treasures the Cowboy and I have to be wise, not only with our finances, but also with our time. 

We decided long ago that we didn't want to spend our days in the car toting the kids from one place to the next. Our desire for our family is just that, to do our best to spend our time together, as a family, not as seven separate folks all pursuing our own interests. And so over the years we have been cautious and prayerful as to what we do with our time, as to the commitments that we make outside the farm gates. Before we move forward with an activity we ask ourselves, "How is this going to bring our family closer together? Is this going to interfere with family dinners, our family worship times? Is this going to strengthen us or strain us?" And sometimes the reality is that sacrifice is necessary for a season in order to get to a place that will ultimately bless our whole family.

Sometimes when you look at your girl's face on the morning of her birthday and you hand her a brand new pair of boots and you tell her that she's gonna get to ride a horse and she just squeals and jumps and claps and grins from ear to ear, and all of a sudden her passions become clear as day, and you become glad that you and your man sat on the porch night after night and figured out a way yo make it all happen. 

All the kids love horses, but the Dancing Girl, LOVES horses. 

She's been in classes for six weeks now and this past weekend our whole family was able to come and watch her do all that she has learned. She really is a natural. She led that horse around the arena like she had been riding for years. 

I love that precious face of hers. I love the way it lights up when she rides. 

My Siah and I are next in line for lessons. 

And Lord willing, we will bring home a couple of horses of our own someday soon and I can hardly wait to see the look on my little love's face when we do. 

Such joy in discovering what makes these kid's hearts beat. :)

Holy In The Ordinary

The oldest chap finds himself all bent out of shape on the kitchen floor because his Camelbak hydration pack isn't working the way he wants it to.

His Papa attempts to lighten the mood and cracks a joke and the oldest doesn't care for jokes when he's sprawled out on the kitchen floor all flustered over the imperfections of this world's stuff.

One little girl can't find her shoe and the middle boy is genuinely concerned as to whether or not there will be snacks where we're going.

I'm in the basement looking for a sun hat that might fit the youngest chap and I can hear all the havoc of harsh words and discontent going on above me.

It's a gorgeous Good Friday and our little family of seven is trying to get out the door for a hike by the lake, and... I'm in the basement...
and IT'S GOOD FRIDAY...
and my goodness!! Does Jesus really live in this farmhouse??







And I've been thinking about these words all week long... all these days of Holy Week... the week where His world wide rescue plan comes to fruition... the week where the laying down of His life, brings my brokenness into a state of almost unimaginable hope.

These words...

Kacy Clark, You are chosen, set apart, and loved by God.

Do I devote my heart to this mystery, to this truth?

In this farmhouse my flesh is a-l-w-a-y-s floundering. I know what I am but I live like I've never heard...

That I am indeed chosen, set apart and loved by a most holy God.

I've been pleading with the Lord daily, that this very truth would be the heartbeat of my marriage, of my mothering, of my life...

"Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.  Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.

 Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace.And be thankful. Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him." Colossians 3:12-19

I've heard these words so many times.

I've read them over and over and over again in His Word... BUT...

"Am I stunned and broken and built up and made glad, and merciful because I am chosen, holy, & loved?" 

I long for our home to reflect that this Mama, truly knows what Christ has done... so much so that I am able to be changed. That my anger, and annoyance, and sharp words would be gone because my heart has been broken in the best way by the deep knowledge of Christ's utter selfLESSness toward me, a woman so imperfect? 

Piper convicts my heart with these words...

"If you are quick to anger, instead of being long-suffering, the root is probably lack of mercy and lack of lowliness. In other words, being chosen, holy, and loved, has not yet broken your heart and brought you down from self centeredness and pride."

If anyone out there is interested in being sanctified, become a mother... become a wife... become the kind of friend that lives the real, the raw with your friends. Relationship, the kind that sees the real you and still sticks around day in and day out, is hard. It's humbling. And yet it is fresh ground for sanctification, for learning to be more like Christ. 

"Am I stunned and broken and built up and made glad, and merciful because I am chosen, holy, & loved?"

Then why do I still find myself so angry over the gallon of milk that was left out on the counter or sharp with the child who insists on goofing off with his sister when he's supposed to be doing math? 

It's Holy Week and I'm the Mama who so often lives like she's forgotten the cross. Holy Week is wonder-FULL because Christ makes it full of wonder. Holy week is holy because this is the week in history when Jesus through his utterly selfless sacrifice on the cross, "chose us and made us holy and loved." 

This week is Holy Week because Christ, in his kindness, is meeting this Mama, in a humble little farmhouse outside the mile-high city and reminding her heart repeatedly, that she is indeed chosen, holy and loved by a loving, merciful God. 

And on the morning of Good Friday, I find myself sitting at the kitchen table alone, my chin sunk down into the palms of my hands, and my mind just repeating those words, chosen, holy, loved... chosen, holy, loved... chosen, holy, loved.

These weeks before Easter I have been captivated by the cross, captivated by Christ's mercy, compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience that He continually shows me. Blown away. Made hopeful. 

All this, in the ordinariness of this place. I might continually be made brutally aware of all that I am not, but it often brings me to a tender, sweet knowledge of all that He always is.

"But he was pierced for our transgressions,
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
    and by his wounds we are healed." Isaiah 53:5

The cross... the ugly-beautiful of this whole crazy life...

I walked up the wood steps and into the kitchen. Wrapped my arms around the crying boy and whispered God-hope into his ear. He stood up tall and apologized to his Papa for that sharp response.

Together we found the little girl's shoe tucked in an odd corner of the farmhouse.

There is Holy found here in the ordinary.

Thankful for the cross, the place where all my sins are washed clean by your blood.

Thankful that You rose again on the third day and are seated at the right hand of The Father.

Thankful for Easter and for hope.

And immense gratitude that You are allowing, and teaching me to be "stunned and broken and built up and made glad, and merciful because I am chosen, holy, & loved by You?"

I LOVED IT, ALL OF IT

He got tickets...

A cowboy hat for each...

'

Boots for some...

And a perfectly placed BBQ stain on her little white T-shirt...

And we were off...

Off to the Rodeo.

It just might have been the best been cash we've spent all summer. I loved it, all of it!

I loved the way they started off the night with prayer over the loud-speaker.

I loved the honoring of the flag, the awesome support they had showed for the military.

I loved all the large families that were sitting around us (A family with six kids sat behind us.) Loved the jokes that the announcer made.

Loved the kids version of bull-riding, as eight of the bravest little kids held onto sheep for dear life and the sheep ran around the ring trying to buck the kids off.

I loved the pre-pig show.

Loved watching soldiers walk out onto the field.

Loved watching sisters hold each other and laugh in the seat next to mine.

I loved watching her sink her teeth into that over-size carmel apple.

Loved the way Hal lit up when all the "girl cowboys" rode onto the ring. Loved how she said said she wanted to wear a sparkle shirt like that when she grows up. :)

Loved being there with Matt and Sarah and their treasures.

I LOVED IT!

I think the Rodeo just might be a new Clark family summer tradition. :)

Proud To Be His Wife

Some friends are way more than we deserve. A dear, very pregnant friend, who already has two small kiddos, took in all four of our treasures for the weekend and let Joey and I slip out the farm gates and spend a few days treasure-less.

Thank you sweet, sweet friend!

DESTINATION: Vail, CO

OPERATION: Tough Mudder 2011

TEAM NAME: Mud-Stained Eyes

GOAL: Don't Die

The plan was simple.

Meet the team up in the mountains, eat good food, laugh with friends, complete a 10 mile obstacle course created by Navy Seal type folks in under four hours, and make it home alive to put the kiddos in their beds by Saturday night.

It's Friday afternoon and we're through the gates and riding the highways through the peaks. We're with friends, talking about life and swapping memories of when we all were still dating and kidless.

There's a gorgeous park with paddle boats and views of the snow-capped mountains. He's running with some of the guys and her and I get to take our time strolling along the beaten path.

We meet up with the rest of the team and have enough nachos to feed an army. They're delicious but they fill us all up with air that makes for hilarious jokes and laughter later on alone in our room. If you know my Joey, you know that I was laughing until my stomach hurt.

Not to long after sunrise we geared up for the Mudder, Sarah and I went out early with the boys to scope out the course in hopes of capturing some of their experiences with our lens. And getting off the shuttle brought a magnificent sight... thousands of men and women, ready to willingly annialate themselves....

Surrounded by HIS glorious creation... it just might inspire one to be brave...

My man...

The team...

A little prayer... A whole lot of faith...

And let the games begin! Hundreds running down the mountain... one guy totally diggered and you could here the crowd echo "ooooooo" as he got trampled by the mob.

Sarah and I snuck up the mountain to catch a glimpse of obstacles 7, 8 & 9. The water was like ice and the team trekked across one side and dogged barrels on the other. Some folks came up shaking and cramping... but all our boys... they were awesome.

Obstacle 9... logs up the hill, through the mud.

Crawling through the mud...

Ice jacuzzi...

The gondola...

Sarah and I couldn't make it up to the middle obstacles so we camped out towards at the man-size slip and slide that led straight into a nasty mud puddle.

And Everest... The boys made it look like a toy. They got up like a human on an ant hill.

And the grand finale, a tunnel of 10,000 volts. And they're brave and they run like nobody's business. My Joey, he gets shocked in the eye, and he just keeps running...

Ten miles and three hours and forty minutes later... Triumph! All nine Mudd-Stained Eyes crossed that finished line.

A little mudd, nine manly men, 25 obstacles, 10 miles,

and a much needed night away with the man I love more than maybe I should.

Him and I and some ridiculous show where people jump through holes on the television.

He cracked jokes and I laughed.

He kissed me and I kissed him back.

He is most certainly a manly man who crawls through mud, swims under barrels, and runs full force through electric wires...

But he's also the man who takes me along on his adventures

and makes me so proud to be his wife.