How The Best Birthdays Can Be Altars

After reading birthday cards in bed from my Joey and my treasures.

After my Joey gave me a machete (yes, a real machete for all those lovely snakes making way through our farm fields) for my birthday.

After lunch with one of the godliest women I know.

After pizza and friends and candles and cake on the farm.

After an already most lovely day...

My Joey and I, we tucked the kids in their beds. We gathered the stones that we had been collecting into the back of his rusted -old pickup and drove the pickup into the thunder-storm sky, a mere 100 yards from our front porch onto the north field. In the center of it lies a sole tree stump... it's dead but still towers far above our heads.

He set up two red chairs (walmart specials:) in the bed of the pickup. The view was glorious, we could see the dark clouds shifting and beams of light making themselves known through the fog as the sun set over the mountains.

As the weeks have past the kids and I have been reading through the Old Testament. We've shunned at the horrific things that they had to go through... looked into our own hearts and seen ourselves in those doubting Israelites... sat in wonder as the words unfolded the details of our God parting the Red Sea, raining food down from the heavens, quenching their thirst by bringing forth water from a rock of all things.

And my Joey and I, we've been reminiscing of all the times in which God has been faithful to us. Talking about how easily we forget. How the story of the Israelites just might be parallel to the story of our own lives. And throughout the whole old testament the Lord has His people building these altars, places of remembrance. Tangible evidence of His faithfulness.

So with the sunlight disappearing behind the hills, we sat in the back of that old pick up and with a permanent marker we took each stone and remembered. We wrote down things He's walked us through in our 11 years together... the way His presence surrounded us in that hospital room when our first two boys were born. The way he united us, showered peace upon us, taught us to surrender our deepest desires to Him. The way He was with us just the same the day that we met our Siah, the way the room filled with a baby's cry and both our eyes rained with tears of truly unspeakable joy. The way looked at each other in complete awe and gratitude, this time knowing that our little boy was pure gift, 100% miracle. We remembered the way He blessed twice in a year and brought us our Hal. We remembered His financial provision through every season. The times He's brought checks in the mail and food to our table.

We wrote them down and one by one we put them under the towering trunk in the field, our field, the field that to us represents the miracles of Him in our lives.

Once all the stones were laid bare and open under that tree, he took my hand and prayed gratitude... thankfulness for what Christ has done... thankfulness for what he will do... thankfulness for me, his wife for life.

This morning I opened up the Bible at breakfast to where we had left off the previous morning with Joshua leading the Israelites into the promise land and this is what it said...

"When in time to come your children ask you, 'What do these stones here mean?' then you must tell them, 'The Lord our God dried up the water of the Jordan for us here, so that we passed over on dry ground.' And this monument will remind you that the hand of the Lord is mighty and you must fear your God forever." Joshua 4:22

We might not yet have seen the Lord dry up the Jordan so that we can walk over it, but we have for certain seen His faithfulness continuously in our lives. Lord willing we will be on this farm for some years, and now in the center of all that He's provided for us here, there's an "altar." A place where we can continue to write a few words and a date and remember that He permeates this place, these hearts, this family. A place that for years to come, our kids will have a visual tangible reminder that God is trustworthy in all things. A place that we hope will help us never to forget. :)

When he was done praying over us by the tree in the field, he held me long and I whispered with my face up against his,

"This just might be the best birthday yet."

Just a little company, gentle leading, and consistency.

I've read it several times...

"Just train them in such and such, and they will do it."

Well, the truth under this roof is that hardly anything just happens. And what I wanna know is, what do all those experts even mean when they talk about training up their kids?

When your son continues to chomp his food, and your daughter can't stop picking her nose and eating it... when littlest girl still throws herself on the floor when she doesn't get what she wants and three of them spend their days squabbling about things that seemingly shouldn't matter... What then? How to train souls? What does it really look like?

And I always feel a little funny writing about things that I am for certain still in the thick of myself. I still wanted to humbly post a few things that have moved me forward in this thing called training throughout my past six years as a Mama.

Each family truly is unique and the specifics are gonna look different for each of us because each child has his/her own individual make up. But there are three things that I think could encourage any Mama heart longing to know how to actually train up their children in righteousness.

This past weekend Hal and I were outside watering the strawberries. It was hot outside and we have to water each plant by hand. The job can get long and tiring. The other kids had finished their chores and Hal was tired and saw her bothers and sister playing in the nice cool shade of their "treehouse". She just wanted to be done with watering the plants. I totally understand because I was feeling the same way. But as she was holding that hose and begging me to let her quit and go play, I felt the Lord speaking gently to me...

"This is training.

Show her how to work hard. Show her how to finish strong. Show her how to do all of life to the best of her ability for the glory of God.

Walk with her.

Gently lead.

Stay consistent."

And that's the thing. Training takes time, patience. Training in a sense is simply living and walking through life with the little people under our roof. Training is not popping them into submission. (For us, there are a very small handful of things that warrant a pop on the bum, but that conversation is for another time. :) Training is not raising our voices until the dominating thunder coming from my mouth frightens them into obedience(Which I am often guilty of). Training is not taking over and just getting the job done ourselves simply because it would be a whole lot easier than letting them try and fail several times before they actually get it.

With Hal, she doesn't really know how to water the flowers yet. She gets flustered pulling the hose out as it gets all tangled and then stuck. Time to her still feels like forever so even though she needs to water each plant for an entire minute, she's convinced that ten seconds must surely really be a full minute.

We've been watering the plants together for several days now. Each day I've shown her ways that she can unravel the hose so that it won't get tangled. Each day I've stood with her as she's held the hose over each plant and we've counted together to 60.

And yesterday when she wanted to quit and go play with the other kids, I kindly told her that when we start a job, it's best to finish it well. She came back at me with a tired, hot and whiney, "But Mama?" To which I got down on her level and rested my hand on her shoulder, and said

"Love... work is privilege. We have the blessing of getting to grow stuff together in our yard. And because I love you, I want to help you to grow up into the best worker that you can be for the glory of God. Now let's keep going until all the plants have all their water. I'll walk with you as you finish up your job."

And slowly we made our way down the planter. She gazed at the other kids, possibly hoping that I might change my mind.

But together we stuck with it and we finished the job, and we finished it well. When she was done watering, I showed her how to put the hose away. Then I undid what I had just demonstrated to her and had her try to do it herself. It took quite a bit of time. But I'm starting to wonder if there really is any better way to spend my time than to purpose to train my treasures up in righteousness?

In the moment she wasn't ecstatic about finishing up the job. But as she gets better and better at completing her chores, she's gaining a healthy pride in her work. And in the process she's learning that the main reason we work hard, the main reason we do anything, is because we love God and wanna honor Him in everything that we do.

There's no harsh voice necessary.

Just a little company, gentle leading, and consistency.

Patience and a bit of unhurried time are helpful too. :)

From Your Treasures

Sometimes I wish that I could somehow capture on film the smell of the BBQ on a summer afternoon. There's something about sizzling meat and watermelon, potato salad and corn on the cob, that defines Father's Day. And what Father's Day wouldn't be complete without an attempt at capturing all four treasures with my lens...

For the man who makes me want to be a better woman...

For the Papa who molds their hearts with his life...

We love celebrating you everyday of the year!

Each year I ask the kids what their favorite thing is about their Papa...

Siah said...

"I love that you makes breakfast for us every Saturday...

Love going to the park with you...

Love watching movies with you when Mama's gone...

Love riding on the mini-motorcycle with you...

Love working in the man-cave with you and all your tools...

Love riding next to you in your pick-up on the way to school.

Halee said...

Love....

Riding next to you in your truck...

Just going anywhere with you...

Reading with you...

When you stay home with us...

When you pulled us around the farm in the back of the trailer.

Reesie said... Direct Quotes...

"Bout going to Fox Run Tark.."

"By taking your picture..."

"By going to make tell him I'm going to marry Tamble..."

"Bout go to Talifornia!" :)

And sweet Jed said..

"Paaaaaapaaaapapapapappaaaaaaapapapa!" (cuz that's how he says his Papa's name. :)

Papa you are a gracious, kind, manly-man who steps on snakes with your boots and shoots raccoons out of trees with the neighbors.

You have the gift of great faith and when I doubt, you gently lead me back into Him. You kiss me softly in the dark and whisper "you're beautiful" more often than any woman deserves.

You work hard and make time for the hearts that you love with your life, you help others and give generously of anything you have. If I dream, you make it happen.

Somehow you hold the weight of all tender souls under this farmhouse roof. You are the greatest of lovers and are so loved!

Happy Papa's Day, Papa... Man, how incredibly loved you are!!!

Acceptance WIth Great Joy

Sometimes kids act a certain way simply because they haven't been trained otherwise.

And even when they're trained they still need that daily reminding.

But I often times find myself forgetting that I too am a forgetter.

We're learning trust around here. We're also learning to "accept Mama's 'no' with joy."

When I write it down it seems almost funny to me... How easy is it to accept the Lord's "no's" joyfully? How easy is it to try and convince a three-year-old to smile and say 'okay Mommy', when they're devastated over the fact that you just told them they couldn't have ice cream for breakfast? Neither flow without effort.

But like most of the best things in this life, although it's rather difficult, in our home we find it worth the fight, worth the time, worth the effort, to, by His grace, find acceptance with joy as we make our way through these days, under this farmhouse roof together.

What it boils down to is, if we want His best, then we need to learn to accept what He gives with joy. And if I know the heart behind the request, then acceptance with joy can come to pass without much of a fight. The thing is, I know that My Jesus has my absolute best interests in mind. He wants nothing less than His God-size best for me in all areas of my life. Knowing that one simple truth enables me to accept what He gives with an often times unexplainable joy.

It's not to say that what He gives isn't sometimes painful. And it's not to say that when I call my kids to accept my 'no' with joy that I am hoping that they will have a smile on their face but be a raging mess in their hearts. Acceptance with joy means that every part of us can rest in the knowing that He is always looking out for our hearts. And even more so He is wanting to make my heart more like His.

I've been thinking about some of the most beautiful things on earth and how most of them have to go through this intense refining process to shine in the glorious beauty that God has intended for them. Take gold for example. Gold gets beautiful in fire. There is little sustenance in this life without first the refining.

I'm finding as I muddle my way through these mothering years that so much of His Word has everything to do with parenting. So much of our relationship with Him is a reflection on how we might live out our lives with our own children.

Acceptance with joy is a difficult one to pass on to our treasures. It's been a process over the past weeks, months, even years. But daily we speak of it around here. Daily we talk about the authority that Christ has given this Mama in the lives of these many small children. Daily we talk about the knowing that this Mama has her kiddos best interests in mind. Daily this Mama speaks acceptance with joy into these kids hearts because I am confident that if they learn this lesson while they are still young, it will benefit them beyond words as they face the whirls of this sin-struck, sometimes painful world. If we learn to accept His 'no' with joy, then the trials might even be seen as gifts, the way Paul came to see the thorn in his own side. (2Cor. 12 MSG)

I'm finding that the best ways to train up children are rather simple. I am the one who finds a way to somehow make them more complicated than they ought to be.

As for acceptance with joy, the way we train our children is through a simple conversation, one that we vow to never tire of repeating. The older two are catching on, but the third is in the thick of her learning. When I tell her that she can't have ice cream for breakfast she pulls out her most adorable pouty face. She hangs her head low. Sometimes for added flare she'll bury her eyes in her chubby little hands and shake her head back and forth, saying "no, no, no," in her obvious-fake cry.

And the way I handle it...

Well, first I try and hold back my laughter, who can resist a smile when you see that pouty little face? But then I get down on my knee so that my eyes can see her eyes. And I lift up her chin in the palm of my hand and I look gently straight into her and I remind her,

"Reesie-piece... I need you to accept Mama's 'no' with joy. I love you and want only to do what's best for you. So I need to see some joy in that heart, so much so that it shows up on your face."

At this point she usually crosses her arms and gets a mad face. So I smile and say something silly like, "don't you dare smile." Then of course, she grins from ear to ear and I pull her in close. We've been doing this for months now. Initially she might have gotten her smile simply from my light-hearted silly talk. But I can see a shift now in her heart. And more often than not, once she has her grin back, she'll say, "Mama, I find my joy." And that makes me think that there is something deeper growing in her heart. Something that will hopefully carry her through a lifetime of running into opportunities for acceptance with great joy.

Who knows, she might even be like the nine-year-old girl that spoke deep into me one recent Sunday in church. She spent her days cleaning the wounds of lepers with her Mom, Dad, and two brothers. One night her dad and brothers slept in their van after staying late at a leper colony. Because they were Christians and some of the authorities in the area did not like them being around, they burned them alive in their van.

When asked about the horrific event later, the little girl said of her dad and brothers, "I feel honored that the Lord would deem them worthy of dying for Him and His glory."

Acceptance with great, GREAT joy.

I can only pray with my whole heart that under this farmhouse roof, we would have the privilege of grasping acceptance with joy with such profound depth as this nine-year-old girl who found unfathomable joy, in one of humanity's greatest fears.

Mama's don't have the power to convince small hearts of this deep need for acceptance with joy... that's merely a work of the Holy Spirit. He alone can convince a soul.

But what we can do... we can exemplify. We can live a life that shows our passion for the things of GOd. And what could be more attractive to a young soul than witnessing the miracles of God come to pass in the life of their own Mama.

Lord, may I learn to accept all that you give, with great joy. May I never tire of gently repeating to my children their need to accept my 'no' with joy. And may I never cease to accept your 'no's' with joy, knowing that the trials are often times the greatest of all the gifts that you give.

The Things I Love About Him Today

When time gets short and there are meetings to go to, fields to be mowed, papers to be written and phone calls to return, dinners, parties, showers to attend, life together sometimes becomes only small pieces of time. Little moments here and there.

Today he pulled up the blinds in our safe-haven, 6am and he was already kissing my sleepy eyes goodbye. I haven't seen him or talked to him since those shades went up, since he whispered, "have a good day" before he quietly slipped out the front door.

But the things I love about him today, are still bountiful. I love when he pulls up the shades and floods our room with sunshine.

I love when he leans in and his lips feel warm against my face.

I love that he gets up early and spends time in the Word, in the tub.

I love that he works hard and never complains.

I love the way he's wrapped up in our kids hearts. The way that he held our Halee last night as she opened up her heart and confessed that the reason she's been sad when I've picked her up from VBS the past two days is because the other girls in her group won't play with her and she feels alone. I love the way he prayed over that sweet little girl sitting on his knee in our sunroom. The way he encouraged her to be brave. The way her face lit up when he told her that tomorrow would be better.

I love that even though he had homework and a deadline he still took those five minutes to love on Hal and give her encouragement to try again the next day.

I love that he knows my heart and knew that changing our phone number to a CO number yesterday was oddly a big deal to me. I love that he texted back and forth with me until he knew that I was sure that it would be okay to let go of one of the last things that held me to CA.

Seasons change, they come and go. But there is something to love in ALL seasons.

Today, these are the things that I love most about my Joey. :)

When They Ask Why

My Joey and I, we wanna parent with purpose. As we train and direct our treasures we want to be intentional with our words and be aware and mindful of the how's and why's of our responses to their questions.

"Why" seems to be the most common question under our farmhouse roof.

"Why do butterflies have wings?"

"Why does the moon shine so bright?"

"Why do I have to go to bed?"

"Why did Jesus have to die?"

"Why" is threaded through nearly every conversation and I've been thinking about the way that I respond...

Sometimes I answer them with a simple one-liner and they accept my words and move on with their day.

Sometimes I answer and they counter with a flood of more "whys".

And still other times I find myself getting all flustered with the never ending "Why" question.

I've been thinking about myself with my Jesus. Been thinking about the way that maybe I bombard Him with my "whys" and how He responds to me when I push in and insist on an answer, the way my children push into me each day.

I've been thinking about the events that He's brought that I've begged for answers, for an explanation and how more often than not He's given me very little explanation.

When I lost my mom nearly 11 years ago, I begged Him to tell me why.

When the nurse came in to see if I needed any help nursing our twin boys and I had to restrain myself from yelling at the kind old woman who clearly didn't get the memo. When we drove down a dark road with empty car seats in the back of our black pickup truck and paid the cremator for the tiny box of ashes, the only physical evidence that remained of our first two treasures. When we signed death certificates when we should have been signing birth certificates. "Why" was intertwined through every last prayer that came through my mouth that first year.

And in the depths of the things I wanted to understand most, His response was so different from what I wanted it to be. I wanted detailed explanations and all He said was, "Trust me. In this life, you're not always gonna know why but I need you to simply trust me."

And it's the same with the many small children under this roof. There are countless questions that can be answered quickly and simply. But there is an element of trust that

needs to be gained. Sometimes there's no time for an explanation, like when we're about to cross the street and I firmly direct them to stay next to me and don't let go. If there's no trust there and they disobey because of lack of explanation, I could have a squashed treasure on my hands. Other times I simply lack words, I don't know the explanation but I know that what I am asking of them is right and it's something that needs to be carried out quickly, them knowing that even though I lack words for them, my requests of them are trustworthy. And still there are other times when I myself don't know why. Oldest son asked me the other day while we were reading a very difficult part of the Bible where God told Moses to kill a group of people that had disobeyed Him, why God would ever want to kill anyone. And to be honest I had no idea how to explain the answer to that very real question except to say, "Son, I don't always understand the reasons behind God's decisions. But what I do know is that He is always just, and His decisions are always trustworthy. His ways are not our ways. And as the creator of this universe He understands things that we do not and will not ever understand."

Our hope, our desire, as their Mama and Papa is that through our daily interactions with our children we develop a trust between us and them that no matter what we are asking of them, they will be able to lean into and rest in the trust that we have between us, whether or not we are able to offer them an explanation as to why we are asking of them whatever it is that we are asking.

Christ models perfect trust, something that we as flawed sinners will never be able to model. But we can still strive for trust with the help of the Holy Spirit alive and well within us.

Consider a very small moment that happened today...

I simply asked my Reesie to come.

I was at the bottom of the stairs and she was in her room. Immediately I hear here respond with a winey, "Why" from the top of the stairs. "Please just come," I responded. Eventually she came down the stairs and she dragged herself over to where I was standing. And before I even bothered to ask her to do whatever it was that I was going to ask her to do, I just spoke gently to her...

"Reesie, when Mama asks you to come, I simply need you to trust me. And a way that you can show me that you trust me is by choosing to obey Mama the first time and come. I'm not always going to be able to tell you why, but by your obedience you're showing Mama that you trust that I know what's best for you. Do you understand?"

She says "yes Mama," and then I proceed to ask her to do what I had needed her to do.

Does she really understand? Probably not yet.

But it's not just a single conversation or a single explanation that's gonna mold these kids hearts in a hopefully godly direction. It's years of repeating, repeating, repeating. Years of living it out in my own life that's gonna mold their hearts. It's them witnessing me, as I learn the same lesson with myself and my Savior. As I learn to obey, to trust, often times without explanation that they too will learn to obey, to trust. It's the faithful work of the Spirit in them.

I don't need her to obey so that I can feel powerful or in control. I don't need her to obey so that I can look good to my neighbors. I don't need her to obey simply because "I said so." Instead I want to teach her to want to obey because at the root of obedience is trust. And trust brings hearts to life. Trust makes hearts free. Without trust, a heart can easily shrivel up and die. My hope is that my words and my actions towards her are trustworthy.

Today went on and I was thankful for the countless times that I was able to tell her again and again how much she would gain in this life if she learned obedience paired with deep trust. To come when I call her, being fully confident that I will only choose to ask of her what I know is best for her, just as the Lord purposes only to choose what's best for me. Even if I don't understand, I can always trust that He is always good.

And if I ask Him "Why" and He chooses to be silent, I can still always be moving forward in obedience, because He alone is trustworthy.

So when they ask you why...

Tell them that it's mainly about trust.

Tell them that sometimes in this life, God's gonna ask things of us and we're not gonna understand why. But regardless of our own understanding, He is trustworthy.

Tell them that a way that we can show God that we trust Him is by obeying and trusting Mama and Papa, with whom He's entrusted with the incredible privilege of gently leading you, through their own example as they daily give their lives to Christ.

#451- 471

Thank you for countless opportunities to speak truth to my treasures. For birthdays that become alters, days of remembering your faithfulness. Thank you for deep heart conversations with women who wanna know you more. Thank you the cowboy who holds me close in the dark hours in our safe-haven. Thank you that we don't always know why. Thank you that you're trustworthy anyway. Thank you for hope and purpose right smack in the middle of trials. Thank you for rain on a Monday in late June that brings life to our strawberries. Thank you for old farm trucks and memories made in fields, in love. Thank you Lord for you in this life. For homemade ice cream and friends on Father's Day. For Papa's that love deep. For pictures that capture the personalities of our kiddos. For hours of living adventure out doors. For new discoveries. For phone calls and texts and cards and emails that bless me on my 32nd birthday. For prayer on the couch... always prayer on the couch. For weekends away, treasure-less. For true friends who love on our kids while we're gone.

All This Life

It only took me two days to pack. But how could anyone say no to three pleading treasures and a baby boy who could probably care less but is part of the pack and thus always included in the head count?

"Wanna go camping Mom?"

"Sure, when?"

"Next week."

"Sure. Why not? After all we'll only have one summer when you're six, and you're five, and you're three, and you, littlest one, this will be the very last summer that you're one-year-old."

So we did it. We found the sleeping bags, the tent. We borrowed a cooler, and packed up some Cheetos, and some Apple Jacks (Camping staples of course:). Papa finished up his schoolwork and we piled the kiddos in the Burb, and headed up the mountain.

We made a few stops on the way out of town, but eventually we curved around the high mountain bend and there they were...

Friends, our tent all set up, and a nice fire pit in the middle of it all that we couldn't even use because of the "red alert" fire warning that was posted in bright red letters on the sign that welcomed us into the national forest. Bummer... no fire. But no need for tears, all we need is a camper that'll hold all 14 of us so that we can crowd around the gas stove and roast marsh mellows that are big enough for the Jolly Green Giant.

First things first, let's take a little stroll through the woods, find some shell casings, let the Papas have a nice cold drink in a bottle, and make a few memories...

What's full-fledged camping without a little team work? The boys figured out a way to get the bike that they were sharing up the cracked dirt hill. It was a together thing.

And Papa and Reesie worked together too to get themselves through the dirt and back to the campsite.

Once we were back, well, what's the point in waiting any longer, so we bust out the marsh mellows and all 14 of us pile into the camper shell on the back of his truck. Have you ever seen such HUGE mellows? Sticky goodness enjoyed by all.

Kids hyped up on sugar and just plain joy, romped around for hours into the dusk of the evening. It's kinda what summer's been about around here... long afternoon naps, staying up late, waking up early, soaking up the daylight hours while they're still a gift that He's giving. We'll take it, and soak up every minute of it!

The sun's gone and we tuck those kids in tight. This Mama all giddy at the adventure of this life with all these treasures, in these mountains, in this summer, with the one man she's given all her love to. She steam rolls those treasures and they laugh and laugh. In the dark this Mama inquires of their heart's joys... "What was your favorite part of the day?"

"Smores" seems to be the consensus, except for littlest girl who insists that dinner was the best part of her day (which is quite odd because she maybe took five bites total of all the yummy goodness that was offered to her! That treasure... she keeps me on my toes with never a dull moment! :)

The night is long but I expected nothing less. Littlest treasure slept great in his own special spot but the rest of us were cold and sleeping with our skin to close to rocks. Never the less, morning came and we woke up with joy, probably just glad that the sun was once again faithful in it's rising.

What to do with littlest one?? He crawls... everywhere. He puts, everything in his mouth.

MMMMM? What to do?

I'm a brilliant Mama and I set up the pac n play in the middle of all the other dirt sculpting kids and I hand littlest treasure a handful of Apple Jacks... yes, Apple Jacks for my 11 month old. What can I say, he's baby number four. He munched down the first handful. The first sister climbed into the pac n play with her brother and asked for some Apple Jacks of her own. Then the older brother climbed in. Little sister stood up against the railing and this Mama put the whole box in the middle of them all. An hour of camping entertainment, all from a little old Apple Jacks box. :)

The big boys though... they had different plans.

Guns.

What can I say?

I didn't really grow up on

guns myself. They aren't really my thing. But they are my Joey's thing. He's studying in hopes to one day protect and serve... :)

He's teaching all kids gun safety. Giving them wise wisdom. Getting them excited but being sure to instill caution all the same. Teaching them that guns are a responsibility that must not be taken lightly. And I think the boys are getting it...

Well, see for yourself...

The girls, they just make spy glasses out of the casings...

But the boys....

My favorite line is when the Papas are putting the bright orange ear plugs in the boys ears....

AJ: "Can we eat these?"

Campbell: "No AJ. They're not carrots."

:)

I love the kind of kids that love them some dirt!!!

And these girls went all out!!!

A Mama and her treasures laughing their way into joy-filled memories...

Boys working together to load up the gear.... there sure is a lot of stuff for a one-night camping trip for a crew of six... time very well spent.

What if this was our one last summer?

If He is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him, then this Mama's vote is to take all these gift moments, and allow these treasures to discover His glorious creation and naturally fall in love with the Maker of all this life.

The Resevoir, an attempt at fishing, brother and sister chatting by the shore, long picnic afternoons, and fine friends that lead hearts to Him with their lives.

Somehow the kids get on the topic of fasting. Someone inquires what on earth "fasting" actually is, and our Hal enlightens us all with her understanding of the matter,

"Fasting is when you eat your food really fast so that you have more time to spend with the Lord."

Have you ever heard a better definition than that? :)

Gifts, gifts, and more gifts.

Rub-a-dub-dub, four very dirty treasures in a tub.

The dark water spins down the drain washing away the grime...

But the memories made, will always remain.