Excavating the Relic

This is what we look like now.  Taller (them), older (me).  My how things have changed.

It has been nearly 7 years since this blog has seen the light of day. Why? I couldn't quite tell you. In that time, the boys have gone from 7 and almost 5 to 14 and almost 12. Teenager. I have a teenager in my home now, y'all. And one more following fast on his heels. In 2015, I quit teaching at Perry (let's say I decided that public education and I have irreconcilable differences) and have started homeschooling these goobers. We're starting our fifth year of this messy, miraculous madness of homeschooling. I've learned as much as the boys have...what people call "redeeming" my education. And I'm redeeming my time with the boys. I love the time I've gotten with them as a result of this surrendering to God's design for our family at this time in our lives.

We moved. Since 2016, we're no longer suffering below the gnat line in Middle Georgia. Now we live in Oak Ridge, Tennessee right outside of Knoxville. We moved for Jason's career and never looked back. Jason is killing it at work, and the boys and I have found our tribe in a Classical Conversations community.

We became foster parents to a sweet little girl named Abby. She spent a gloriously messy 9 months with us, and we loved her big. She was reunited with her mom in September 2018, and though we knew that was the desired outcome, we were devastated when she left us. But God has a way of restoring all things. He put that family back together, and He continues to put our hearts back together each day, too.

This move also got us closer to my parents in North Carolina...which looking back on the last three years has been the whole purpose of God in all of the changes in our lives since I buried this blog in 2012. In 2017, my sweet mother was diagnosed with Stage IV lung cancer. For two years, the boys and I were able pick up and go at a moment's notice to be with Momma. We experienced the totality of a solar eclipse with her, we went to the beach twice with her, we celebrated each time she finished a round of chemo. And on April 28, 2019, we held her hand as Jesus called her home. All thanks to homeschool and a closer address.  The thread of God's faithfulness is fully apparent in our lives.

So where do I go from here? We shall see. Maybe I'll pick back up on my 1,000 gifts counting.  Maybe I'll share a bit of what I've learned during my time homeschooling. Maybe I'll share favorite recipes and writer's workshop prompts.  More than likely it will be simply my musings on this vapor they call life.  This lovely flower quickly fading, but filled with such beauty because of its brevity.

Multitudes on Monday #27-35

"Oh that my words were written!  Oh that they were inscribed in a book!  That with an iron stylus and lead they were engraved in the rock forever!  As for me, I know that my Redeemer lives and at the last He will take his stand on the earth.  Even after my skin is destroyed, yet from my flesh I shall see God..." Job 19: 23-26

27.  The promise of eternal life with God.  Father, thank You, for overcoming the grave, that I may say with Job that, yes indeed, my Redeemer lives.  And because He lives, I too can live...here on earth and in Heaven with my Jesus. 

"And then one day, I'll cross that river.  I'll fight life's final war with pain.  And then as death gives way to victory, I'll see the light of Glory, and I'll know He lives.  Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.  Because He lives, all fear is gone.  Because I know, He holds my future, and life is worth the living just because He lives."

Someone sang this song at my Pap Paw's funeral in 1995.  And I remember...although it was one of the saddest days of my then 16 years... I remember that song making me happy.  In the midst of my sorrow, the words of this old hymn brought me peace.  I think I now understand the song a little better, now that I've doubled my age.  Because of Christ's sacrifice, we are able to rest securely in His arms in our present and our future.  That song clearly says He holds that future, but life (the here and now) is worth the living because of that sacrifice of Christ.  I stand amazed all over again at the power of the cross...and of the Resurrection.  We can't leave Jesus on the cross or in the grave.  Without the Resurrection, the grave is as far as we would go...but HE LIVES!  And so can we...

And everything seems so trivial after that, but I do have more to thank God for today...

28.  Cooler weather.  We sure did bake this summer in Middle Georgia, and I'm glad to have some 78 degree weather.  The boys (big and small) have been enjoying it, too.  In general, I just love this time of year.  October through December just make me happy.  It's not simply because of the holidays that we celebrate...not the way we celebrate them anyway.  We skip through Thanksgiving just to get to Christmas, when the one thing that most of us could stand is a little less 'stuff' and a little more gratitude.  That's not why I love this time of year.  It's sort of the idea of retreating into my home with my guys and welcoming in those we love.  It's the cooking I get to do because it is my way of showing people that they are important to me.  It's the smell of oranges and cinnamon and apples and cloves bubbling away on my stove.  It's the warmth inside and the chill outside.  The sharp smell of little boys who have just come in from playing in the cool air. 

29.  Thankful for a week off to enjoy the lovely weather.  It's our Fall Break!  And though we're staying close to home, we've got lots to do.  We're going to visit Grandmomma and Granddaddy tomorrow and Wednesday.  We'll hit the fair this weekend, I'm sure.  The boys and I are going to paint some tiny wooden airplanes...I don't really know why; they found them at Walmart for a dollar a piece; I had the paint and brushes...there just wasn't a very good reason to say no.  I may even get some pansies and mums and get some pots going by the front door.  Or maybe something like this...

30.  Jason and I have decided to host a Halloween party this year.  It's our first time to host a real party where I'm getting to decorate and just kind of go all out for it.  A silly thing to be thankful for, but I'm so excited to be hosting it!

31.  A new down comforter that let Jason and I sleep with the windows open last night.  It was glorious! 

32.  A husband who did every.  single.  piece.  of.  laundry.  I'm serious...I did not touch laundry this weekend, because I have the best husband ever...period.

33.  A new book waiting for me on my Kindle.  Charles Frazier's new book Nightwoods.

34.  I am thankful for the blessing of counting these gifts.  That I am able to look past my circumstances (which aren't all that bad to begin with) and thank God for what he has poured out in my life.  I will not let people (at the hands of the devil) steal my joy.  I want to spend my time praising God for his blessings, not harboring anger and bitterness in my heart. 

35.  Where I'm From (With respect to George Ella Lyon)

I am from front porches
from porch swings and creek banks
I am from maple trees and mountain breeze.
(cool--napping at midday in the summer
     heat)

I am from white half runners and "better boys"
the old barns
whose smells I remember
as if they were they were as fresh as a new baby.

I'm from chocolate balls and homemade dills
     from Doris and Rondal U.S.
I'm from sneaking out at nap time
     with Pap Paw for an ice cream
     at the country store.
I'm from unknown languages and
     Victory in Jesus
Mam Maw's strong soprano in the choir

I'm from George and Neva's land
     Day-old biscuts and black coffee
From the leg my grandfather lost
     in the War.
From the scar on Daddy's foot from
     the pitchfork

In my closet--quilts and afghans
an old cow bell--remnants of by-gone days
when the world seemed simpler.
I am from the warmth of these moments
The distant flicker of
lightning bugs in the night.

Did some writing with my kiddos in class today...

Here is what I got on paper...

"Mother and the Baby"

You can never have too much baby.  You can fall asleep and wake up to realize that you've fallen in love all over again, and a baby can save your faith when you think hope is lost.  In this world there is too much anger and not enough baby.  Dimples and grins are too few and so are chubby toes and most things that are beautiful.

Mother, who is weary, who sometimes wishes for a peaceful evening of rest, realized something in the wee hours of the morning.  Mother, who longs for a quiet bath or a chance to sit with a cup of coffee and a book, this morning breathed in that intoxicating scent of a new baby-the spell of heaven. 

She turns to face her husband in bed, the new baby nuzzling her skin, and says come smell this. He looks at her funny, and she says I'm serious.  He slides closer and puts his nose into the baby's fine, blond hair.  Do you smell that?  Do you know what that is?  That's  a second chance.  A second chance?  the husband asked.  A second chance, the mother said, and made it that simple.

My War Zone

6:45 am-Saturday morning.  I wake to the sounds of their feet on the floor-something that sounds like choppers flying through the house...tat tat tat tat tat tat...I'm glad they don't know how to be quieter.  I can brace myself against the coming attack and shake off the fog of my early morning dreams (Oh how I wish I could hang on to those dreams).  When I hear those feet on the floor, I always ask, "Why so early?"  But there is no sleeping late when there's a war on.

                They climb on the bed (not IN...ON...IN would imply that they were getting under the covers to go back to sleep.  Oh no...they climb ON...to jump) and immediately start firing.  "I want (JUMP) french  toast sticks...I want (JUMP) a banana...I want (JUMP) yogurt."  I make my escape while they are attacking—they are attacking my comrade.  But they follow me...still firing..."I want to watch a movie...No!  It's MY TURN...I want to watch Spiderman...Momma, is Spidey a good guy or a bad guy?  Momma, is Spidey a good guy or a bad guy?  Momma is Spidey a good guy or a bad guy?”  I usually dodge this one every time with "I don't know, baby, you tell me."  Then the volley continues with, "Momma is Black Spidey a good guy or a bad guy?  He's got my Spiderman mask...I want some juice...Momma, he hit me...Wahaahha...Shriek, cry, scream, cry, scream, shriek...tat tat tat tat tat...It's now only 7:00 am... 

                My arsenal usually consists of "STOP THAT!  SIT DOWN!  DON'T CLIMB!  YOU'RE GOING TO GET HURT! DON'T HIT YOUR BROTHER! GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN! BABE!  CAN YOU HELP ME!!!  DO YOU NEED TO GO TO YOUR ROOM?  DO YOU NEED A SPANKIN'?  NO!  DON'T!  QUIT!  STOP!"  My stores are much more limited than theirs...and I know they're bored with it, because I am, too.  It's 7:15...

                The living room looks like the train table hit a land mine.  Thomas and Percy, James and Gordon all laying exposed and vulnerable where they were tossed the night before, casualties of these destructive little whirlwinds who reside here.  We were entirely too tired last night to survey the damage and account for our fallen...they lay where they fell, waiting for someone to come and claim them.  No sooner than the casualties are accounted for and reported, the war front changes and the battles start all over again. 

                The day continues in much the same way-with "gun-fire" and running for cover.  They turn ham and cheese into grenades at lunch-but if I can make it through this battle, I know a TEMPORARY cease fire is coming.  Naptime.  A two hour break in the madness is a welcome reprieve; but it is not completely peaceful.  Naptime is a chance to clean up messes, reconfigure, and re-strategize...all while walking softly and keeping vigilant for the attack I know is coming.

                The war resumes, but we move to a new battlefield.  Outdoors.  At least now they turn on each other to wage war instead of coming after us.  They argue over bikes, swings, and rights to the slide.  They bomb each other with pea gravel and dirt clods.  The noise they make is not so deafening out here.  As dinner time approaches, I know the truce is coming. 

                Bellies full, bath, books, and bed.  These sleepy terrors, for a few brief moments, grant us sanctuary.  They now attack with hugs, kisses, and the sweet scent of their lavender soap.  They snuggle into our laps and eagerly listen to books about sharks and dinosaurs and trains and tractors.  We hear the sweet sounds of prayers instead of shrieks and cries.  We quiet our voices for lullabies instead of yelling for them to cease and desist.  As I tuck them into bed, kissing and saying "I love you, little man," I realize that, even though I am weary, and I know that the truce is only temporary, I would not trade this war for the peace I'd have without them.

Godspeed, little man

Sweet dreams, little man

Oh my love will fly to you each night

On angels’ wings

Godspeed

Sweet dreams

                                                                                --The Dixie Chicks

My new cookbook...

Is my new favorite cookbook for two reasons...

1.  It was written by the Mennonite women from Montezuma...the Yoders.  And has recipies in it such as Colorado Peach Pie, (which I made today with fresh peaches from Lane, and it is divine) Amish Friendship Cake, and cough syrup.

2.  It has this poem
"My God, I sit beneath Thee,
My little child upon my knee,
My little one looks up to me,
And I look up to Thee."

As I flipped through this cookbook this afternoon looking at all of the wonderful recipies that I can't wait to make for my family,the only page I marked was the page on which this poem appeared...no cake, casserole, or cookie.  That poem caught my attention.  And as I crawled into bed next to each of my precious boys tonight, I was extra careful to drink in their smell.  Snuggle them extra tight.  And simply pray that these boys know how much I love them.  I also whispered a prayer to God that memories of nights like tonight would be enough to last a lifetime.

My God, you have given me these children as an inheritance.  As they climb up in my lap every day, as I gather them close, may I remember that I should be in your lap every day as well.  Father, as they look to me, may they see You in me.  May they see You changing me.

Goodnight

It's time to close those sleepy eyes

It's been a busy day.

Snuggle in to momma's lap,

So we can rock and pray.

Thank You, God, for stars that shine

For the moon that glows above.

For trees and dirt and lightning bugs

and thank You for Your love.

For loving me even though

I can be stinky and mean.

For giving up Your only Son

So I can be made clean.

"Goodnight, my love," I say again

"Tomorrow will be new.

Sleep tight. Sweet dreams. God bless, little one,

And know that I love you.

William Wordsworth Said...

"Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart." So this is me taking that advice to heart. I'm not exactly sure what it will become. Lot of things, I think. Writing, photography, cooking, kids...whatever strikes me on the days I write. I hope people will read it and be blessed by it. Check back often...it's going to grow...I hope!