In The Messy Seasons

The glorious days of summer are slowly fading and Fall is taking over the Farm. The air is cooler and I've been spending the past week and a half talking my California girls, the ones who insist that spaghetti straps and flip flops are year-round attire, through the importance of wearing pants when it's 40 degrees outside.

And me, well, I've been lying in bed in the mornings watching the clock continuing on without me, thinking about the mess.

Do you ever just stop for those brief moments in your days as a Mama and think to yourself, "Am I just making a mess out this whole thing? My children are a mess. I'm a mess. What in the world Lord?"

Last week, us at the dentist, it turns out that the dancing girl's back two teeth have giant holes in them. She needs crowns. The big brother has three cavities that need filling.

For the past month the littlest one wants to be in my arms 24/7. Maybe he's getting teeth? Maybe he's sick? Maybe he's perfectly fine and just likes his Mama? He doesn't eat a whole lot, at least not like the other ones do. He doesn't drink as much as I would like him to. I worry about him sometimes. Aren't Mama's supposed to know these kinds of things?...

Well apparently I don't. :)

My Siah went to his first sleepover last night. I woke up this morning thinking, "Hooray! He must have done just fine!"

That was of course until I found my phone on silent in my purse!! A phone that had three missed calls and two texts from the Mama who was up at midnight cleaning up my kid's throw up!!! Of course he's fine now. But just the thought of it... the thought that I wasn't there for My Siah when he was away from home for the first time with friends. The thought of knowing how much I long for my own Mama when I'm sick and the knowing that she's not there, and there's nothing I can do about it except to try to be brave even when everything in me just wants to cry. The thought of my dear friend up in the wee hours of the morning cleaning up nasty stuff. :(

The Mess...

It's one thing after another that just makes you doubt whether or not you were cut out for this job.

And it's strange to me, because I can lift up and encourage another mom with truth that restores and brings life but then when it comes to my own mothering, if I'm real, and I vulnerably lay it all out on the table... I doubt. I preach, but do I myself believe?

I believe in God... whole-heartedly.

But do I believe Him when he says that "He tends his flock like a shepherd: (that) He gathers the lambs in His arms and carries them close to His heart; (that) He gently leads those who have young?" (Isaiah 40:11)

Do I believe that He has given me everything I need within the pages of His Word, for life and for parenting these many small children? (2 Timothy 3:17)

In the day-to-day, in the moments of bad teeth, and throw up, and feeling at a total loss as to the needs of a particular child, I wonder.

I wonder Lord, if I was really cut out for this high-calling?

I know I'm not a bad mom. But how is it that I can brush my little girls teeth every single day of the week an not notice that she has TWO gaping holes in the back of her mouth? Why is it that I let the whining and the bickering that seems sometimes constant, wear me down, when I know that all day long I simply have the opportunity to be that soft, guiding, teaching voice, to my treasures, that same voice that the Lord Himself is to me?

And here I am lying in bed, wondering how it is that I am to do it all over again today? How am I going to try again today to somehow not see it all as mess?

I'm here hashing it out with the Lord. And this thought crosses my mind.,

What's so wrong with the mess?

It's okay to be a mess.

It's okay that you have messy days.

It's okay that your littlest treasure has been covered in nail polish for the past three days because you can't figure out how to get it off without dousing him in nail polish remover, which you don't wanna do.

It's okay that the spunky girl has two different shoes on because you can't keep track of everyones shoes for the life of you.

It's okay that the kids have have eaten cereal for dinner for three days straight now because you haven't had time to go to the grocery store with the Cowboy out of town and the treasures taking turns with the silver, throw-up bowl.

When did Christ ever say that to be a godly, loving Mama I had to have it all together? All he said was, shower them with words that are helpful for building them up. Make it right with them when you've wronged them. Do your best for the glory of God (not man) with the moments that He's picked out for you. Love God and love them with all your heart, mind and soul. And that's about it!

Love and learn, laugh and cry, mess up and forgive them and yourself.

Siah and I sat in church together today. He must have reminded me three times that I didn't answer my phone last night when he was throwing up and wanted to come home. And each time he told me, I pulled him close and whispered sorry into his ear and asked his forgiveness. I hurt his heart and I will gladly apologize over and over again until I know, that he knows, that my heart was never to hurt his, but that Mama's simply make mistakes, just like kids do.

That, my son, is why we all need Jesus. Simply because He gives us hope in our mistakes.

He doesn't take the messy us away. He just somehow uses the messy us to make us more like Him and help us to learn to somehow love each other better.

Photos of the little boy who doesn't wanna leave his Mama's side... in full blown joy, by his Mama's side. :)

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The Messy days,

That it's okay.

A restoring conversation in the early morning hours with the cowboy before the the sun or the treasures are up.

That He uses me anyways.

Littlest boy dancing to Foster the People.

Another Monday morning,

another day for grace.

The life giving Word,

a lovely beginning.

A long melting hug from My Siah,

just because.

How the dancing girl glows on Mondays,

today is ballet... :)

A trip to Sprouts over the weekend,

fresh healthy treats for the treasures.

A kind Word from a friend,

one who hugs me and prays over me and somehow still likes me in my mess...

T__ been extra thankful for you lately.

A phone conversation with a kindred from back "home".

Covered in prayer by kind friends from all over.

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comments are open today... just in case you're a Mama who might have had a messy day or two. Can we pray for each other today? :)

On The Sick Days

I threw together the easiest chicken tortilla soup recipe in the crock pot this morning in hopes of something tasty to eat after a few days of a BRAT diet going on in our home. Bananas, rice, applesauce and toast can get boring really fast. And I wish that I could tell you that my treasures are in love with my soup the way that I am, but they are utterly and completely not. And although we have a "get what you get, and say thank you to your Mama" policy about food in this house, I'm a big fan of offering kindness and grace to a bunch of treasures who have just spent the past two days looking into a stinky potty. :)

So, tonight in an attempt to get off the couch and turn those sulky sick faces looking up at me, into smiles, we pulled out our spiffy pancake pen and cooked up some special pancakes. The dancing girl asked for a ballerina shaped pancake. I don't think she got the memo that her Mama is not quite the Picasso that she's convinced that I am. I'm thankful that she settled for a heart shape instead. :)

We made cars and smiley faces and stacks of silver dollars. I spread a wee bit of Nutella over the top and piled them high with sliced bananas. We laid a picnic blanket out in front of the fire. The big brother made the little brother laugh as I put the final touches on the evening's pancake masterpieces.

Dinner was done and everyone seemed to be keeping their food down just fine... bonus.

The childhood joy was making it's way back into the farmhouse. The girls in their "dancing clothes" the dancing girl teaching the spunky girl her ballet moves to the beat of some good old fashioned Super Tones. Not sure how that worked out, ballet and skaw music, but their girly giggles were back and it was music to my ears.

The farm is cooling off and we've been doused in rain for two days now. The summer green hill country is slowly turning brown. The leaves are turning yellow. After I put the treasures to bed tonight I sat out on the front porch looking into the beauty of the rain over the mountains. How the Lord has time to paint such beautiful portraits while still so passionately pursuing the hearts of his most precious creation is beyond me.

The view from our farmhouse porch tonight...

I was wishing the Cowboy could have joined me, but sometimes nights alone on the porch with Jesus gratitude at the forefront of everything in me, turn out to be the most lovely endings to farmhouse sick days. :)

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Easiest and BEST Chicken Tortilla Soup Recipe

(Hopefully you're blessed enough to live near a Trader Joes. If not, hopefully you have kind friends and family who live close to one and are kind enough to send you a box of delicious goodies from there every once in awhile. :)

Ingredients

1 box of low sodium chicken broth

1 jar of Trader Joes corn salsa

1 jar of Trader Joes green salsa

1 can black beans

1 can kidney beans

1 can rotel tomatoes

2-3 boneless skinless chicken breasts

Dump ALL ingredients in crock pot and cook on low for 6-8 hours

Ladle some delicious soup into a bowl and top with shredded cheese, crushed tortilla chips, and slices of avocado. The cowboy also likes to add a dollop of sour cream and some fresh jalapenos from our garden.

Enjoy!!

Our Only Circumstance

I could hear him whispering the segmented sounds of each word to her in the kitchen, The Cowboy raising his daughter's confidence as she wrote out each letter.

I had made my way to my room, lying in chills under the mounds of covers.

Reesie was hugging the metal bowl that we use on days like this, the days when one by one we all just seem to go crashing down.

Me tucked back in the corner room of the farmhouse, the dancing girl came in, smiling and proud, with the card she had written all by herself in the kitchen with her Papa. I thought it such a sweet gesture and then she made me laugh when she told me that when I felt better, I would need to write a card thanking her for the card she had jut written me. :)

It's hard to be a mom and be tucked in a corner, knowing that your body won't let you fix what only you're ears can hear. The time passes slowly and the sounds of The Cowboy spraying an endless stream of Lysol make me chuckle under my covers. I could hear my Siah, his feet running frantic across the squeaky farmhouse floors. As I lie there shivering, I wonder if he's made it to the toilet. I can hear the Cowboy's tender words assuring his son that this to shall pass.

Selflessnes... A Cowboy who does not do throw up... doing throw up... because that's the thing that needs doing in the moment.

The oldest son can't seem to stop the madness and I rub his head and stroke his back and he whispers it so quiet that I almost miss it...

"Mama, I need you to pray for me."

I'm sick and I'm sensitive and I tear up at how the Lord makes even the throw-up moments, Holy moments.

I pray over my boy and sneak back into my own bed.

I'm lying in that corner room buried and I'm turning tomorrow's reality over and over again in my mind... The Cowboy will be slipping out in the early morning hours on his way to Texas and it'll just be me and the treasures and a silver, just-in-case, bowl, a butterfly box of tissues, and a bottle of Lysol, us all on the couch.

The temptation to pity myself comes, but then I remember why He allows me to read truth in just the right moments. A wise woman wrote a novel and all I took from it was a one-liner that is changing me... "God is our ONLY circumstance." Just when I'm tempted to think that I am unable in my circumstance, I remember that He Alone Is My ONLY Circumstance... and in Him, I am always able, because it is not me, but Him who lives in me that enables. Who am I to think that He will not give me more than I can handle? Of course He will give me more than I can handle... but only in order that I will be confident of my moment by moment need for Him.

The sick treasures have joined me in the giant bed, in the corner room. I'm grateful for the view out my pudgy-finger print covered window, a view of the rain dripping down, of our wedding photo in the sill. Grateful for the living life lying beside me. I'm thankful for dancing girls who write cards and for the thank you card that she's anticipating in return. :) I'm thankful for the view of the Cowboy who smiles at me each time he walks by the doorway with a another silver bowl full of throw up.

After all, what else is there to do but smile, knowing that in the chills, and the aches, and the mess, He enables. He alone is our ONLY circumstance.

The Dancing Girl

We were all sitting round the family room, the place where we six gather often, each one doing their own thing. And she twirls that petite little body of hers right over to my spot on the floor, me wrapped up in a book, and she says it with a voice full of passion.

"I LOVE to dance."

I've never really met a girl like her, one with so few years who has such a love for a thing she's really only read about in books.

But she does. She carries this joy about dancing and this Mama's been hesitant. The last thing I desire for a daughter is all the things that can so easily entangle in the dance world... the worry about body, and beauty. She's five and I don't want anyone to convince her to spend her days caught up in her looks or her size.

But she LOVES to dance...

And in His grace, we found this place. A place where, through dance, they teach her to do all things for the glory of God. They teach her that her gifts are FROM Him, and FOR Him and THROUGH Him. And this Mama heart feels at rest. And I enjoy to no end watching my little girl come alive in that studio and float around as if she was living on a cloud of pure joy!

In our home, our sweet Hal is known as The Dancing Girl.

And her life brings this little girl giddiness that I love. She's giggly and light-hearted and full of silly talk and innocent 5-year-old jokes.

Love the dancing girl!

Interviews

Remember this? If you listen to Siah's, he shares what he's praying for. That silly little interview was two years ago and BOTH things that he prayed for several times a day back then, have come to pass! We now have a house with the LONGEST driveway ever! And our Siah has an amazing little brother! How fun that the Lord does answer the prayers of His kiddos! :)

Wanna hear from our three of our four lovely treasures? (The littlest one just felt like crying, so he's napping instead of doing these lovely high tech videos with his Mama. :)

They're a whole lot bigger now. A bit more chatty... well, Reesie is anyway. :) And our Hal attempts to get all the way through Psalm 19... and quite frankly, I think she did GREAT!!! :)

Enjoy!

(don't forget to pause the music at the bottom of the page :)

Contentment With Joy

The littlest one fell asleep in his highchair during the noon meal. I delicately slide him out, resting my hand on his wispy see-through blondes, pressed his cheek up against mine. His perfectly smooth skin was hot and with a simple press of my lips against his forehead I knew that we were in for an afternoon of fevers.

He woke often with a whimper so I decided to put him on my chest and together we could rest on the couch.

AS he lay there I could feel the slightest bit of bitterness creeping in. Everyone else was outside building the treehouse and when I'm not careful I start to hear the lie that being stuck in the house on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon with a treasure as a burden.

I laid long under the ceiling fan and felt his chest effortlessly rising and falling into mine. Breath, life, resting on me... gift.

As I lay there I began to think about the big house on the hill. Think about the ways He really started to work out contentment with joy in this often discontent heart of mine. The way he brought 1 Thessalonians 5:16 to a battle field. It was Him and I, and a daily struggle to learn contentment in ALL things. I was determined that there was no such thing. Determined that He was asking something of me that could not and would not ever come to pass.

"Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus."

Here I am on this gorgeous Saturday afternoon and I'm stuck inside with a fussy baby, and laundry piling up and dishes spilling out on all sides, and why am I always the one who has to sacrifice?

I could feel the fluster rising. I started to slid my fingers across the little boy's back and felt his whole body melt into mine, relax. Is this what sacrifice looks like? Am I really so self-centered to see the gift of answered prayer lying on my chest as sacrifice? I thought upon the words that my Papa has whispered to me almost daily for two years now... the words that come straight out that verse that He gave me back in that big house on the hill... find thanks.

Sometimes in the thick of it, this Mama thing feels heavy. But that heaviness has always been, and always will be the result of a choice that I make.

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What a blessing that my son finds peace on his Mama's chest.

What a pure gift, that my Joey works hard so that I have the ability to stay home and give my whole heart to four precious souls.

What an undeserved gift that I'm not wondering how I'm going to feed these treasures, clothe them, or put them in a nice warm bed at night.

A little boy, full of breath and life.

I don't have to be home, I get to be home.

My life is well. But even if the trials were pressing in, there is always something to be grateful for. There is always HIM, steady, steadfast, and overflowing with extravagant love for His treasures! :)

I began to speak out loud the ways that He's carrying me through each of my moments. The way that even the simple knowing that gratitude dissipates bitterness before it has any chance to rise up and devour my whole day.

And on that couch, on a sunny Saturday afternoon , with a beautiful, perfectly made little boy on my chest, my heart went from grouchy to grateful.

Contentment with joy...

A choice of gratitude and grace.

A choice that makes a Saturday afternoon on the couch, a holy experience.

Mystery

There was a time when the big brother called him "Joy Boy".

He has a new name around here...

Tasmanian Devel!

Little Jedediah Cyrus.

Okay. So he's not really a little devil at all, but he is speedy gonzales... and he does get into EVERYTHING!

He's this constant wrecking ball that travels from room to room taking out as much as he possibly can. When he's awake, we get through five minutes of school before we have to do damage control with the littlest boy.

His favorites...

The toilet,

The cat food,

The chalk,

I know what you're thinking...

Just close the door to the bathroom, put the markers out of reach, put the chalk away where he can't get it. SOunds simple enough, heh?

He's ONE, right?

Somehow, he's figured out a way to open the old farmhouse doors.

I found of stash of half-eaten chalk under the couch last night after all the children were in bed.

Could his one-year-old mind really be that intuitive? COuld the little chunk really have hidden chalk under the couch so as to have his own little stash because his Mama hid the rest of the chalk last week? Or is it plausible that the spunky sister has been his helpmate in mischeif while the Mama and the two oldest hide out in the schoolroom and try to get some learning done?

I have no idea how half the stuff in this house goes down!

At the end of each day I may have four smiling treasures still alive (somedays barely alive... I found the littlest one licking an empty 409 bottle that he had somehow gotten out of the trash... trash that has a lid on it and is kept behind a CLOSED door... a bottle found while I was standing RIGHT NEXT TO HIM in the kitchen washing dishes! That little boy... sneaky-sneakerson!). But I cannot guarantee that we don't make it through the days without chalk-covered faces or snacks consisting of cat food and toilet water. And the spunky girl, well, she just night have been wearing three pairs of underwear for no apparent reason all day yesterday. And when I asked why she needed all three pairs, she informed me that she needed them to be a ballerina... what? why? :)

I am trying my hardest to keep up on the troops under this roof... but I must confess... sometimes motherhood is simply a mystery to me. :)