From the last week.
Thoughts on Psalm 34:9-11.
Sunday, July 19, 2020
Sunday, July 12, 2020
Given and Taken
Little one given
Little one taken
We trust in the Lord
Who is never mistaken.
They wept at the cross,
They wept through the night,
But Sunday's Son rose
To make all these wrongs right.
In honor of our little one, miscarried at 10 weeks (July 10, 2020)
Thursday, June 18, 2020
2 Years Old!
2 years old!
18 months old
1 year old
11 months old
10 months old
9 months old
8 months old
7 months old
6 months old
18 months old
1 year old
11 months old
10 months old
9 months old
8 months old
7 months old
6 months old
5 months old
4 months old
3 months old
2 months old
1 month old
2 weeks old
Dear Calvin,
The latest and greatest:
- You are a full participant in the escapades and adventures of your brothers. Lately, that has included backpacks filled with arrows and clubs, digging a monstrous pit (and then hollowing out cave-like tunnels beyond it), splashing in the kiddie pool, and shooting water guns.
- You are generally quite easy-going and amiable, but at times (particularly when your older brothers are vexing) you will vent with quite the screaming outbursts. We are working on other options for responding. And I am so proud and thankful when I hear you with a "please stop" or "2 minutes" (i.e. I'll give it to you in 2 minutes) instead of a blood-curdling scream!
- Congratulations, my child, on being the first among your brothers to climb out of your crib. You are fully capable of escaping anytime you want, but after a few heart to hearts on this topic, you do a very good job of staying put until one of your brothers or I come to tell you it's time to get up. Self-control is an even bigger life skill than scaling of walls, so way to go!
- You love to be outside. Clomping around in your big blue rainboots (which, sadly, have far too many holes to keep any part of your feet dry in the event of actual rain) is always a favorite activity. You are still almost always a willing companion on my afternoon walks, though sometimes you opt to stay and play with "the guys."
- You talk about everything. The planes. The lawn mowers. The squirrels. The trucks (especially excavators). The red tailed hawks. The bluebirds (i.e. Gus and Gertrude, who live in our bird house).
- You feel like such a fine big boy now that your seat is turned around in the van. Now you can really see what's going on...
- You are a good helper with my garden. Despite the fact that the fence was largely for you, you do a good job when I bring you inside to help water, and almost every day you help me haul my big green watering can to the rest of the plants on the side and front of the house. You also help put soap in the dishwasher almost every night.
- You are quite the adventurer, adeptly getting yourself up in the big tree fort (although you still need my help to get down). You'll carry me knives off the table and make sure I'm watching to see you balance on top of a tree stump. But mostly you know when you need help and will ask for it.
- You are still a very good eater. As long as there's nothing super crunchy involved, you normally tuck it away without much coaxing.
- You're sleeping great, you're a joyful and energetic player, you have the most delightful quizzical, animated, and happy faces, and you continue growing to beat the band.
The past few months have been such an unprecedented time. COVID-19, shelter-at-home, no shopping outings, library, church, playgrounds, visitors or play dates, homeschool co-op, or visits from Grammy and Grandad. The horrendous loss of George Floyd's life and subsequent protests. Looting and rioting. The unexpected death of a neighbor.
In many ways, this season has been a lesson in trust. A lesson in humility. A lesson in holding our hands open and keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus.
Most of these events have happened beyond your awareness. But as you grow and begin to see the world, its needs and brokenness, its scope of pain and loss, you will need a rock under your feet, my son. You will need a place to stand that will not shift in the winds of change or give way under the pressures of unexpected trial.
And if there has been one reality established, confirmed, and underscored through all these unusual days, it is this: God is faithful. He is unchanging. His word is steadfast and sure. The new life offered through Jesus is our only hope in the midst of sin, sickness, and sadness, and it is a hope that is imperishable, undefiled, and which will not fade away.
When Peter was writing to a group of people, scattered from their homes, in an uncertain time, the security he found in Jesus overflowed in a song of unshakable joy:
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to obtain an inheritance which is imperishable, undefiled, and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for you, who are protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. (1 Peter 1:3-5)
There are many things I do not know about the future, and it would be easy to fall in anxious, fretful worry if I lingered on the possible troubles that could be brewing on the horizon.
But because Jesus has secured our future by His own perfect life, sacrificial death, and triumphant resurrection from the dead, we may be free of fear, leaving the days ahead in the hands of the One who has so masterfully brought us safe this far.
May Christ Himself be your hope, all the days of your life, little son. That is an unshakable anchor indeed.
With all my heart,
Your momma
Wednesday, May 20, 2020
Our Story: The Break-up, the Un-break-up, and Walking into Love
To start at the beginning of the story, see Our Story: Introductions. Second installment, see Our Story: Rescued. Third installment, see Our Story: A Long Wait. Fourth installment, see Our Story: First Sight. Fifth installment, see Our Story: Just a Hint. Sixth installment, see Our Story: What Is Going On?. Seventh installment, see Our Story: Meeting and the Long Summer. Eighth installment, see Our Story: Drama, Courtship, and Travel.
The Break-up, the Un-break-up, and Walking into Love
i.e. Why Dads Are Important
So there we were, Christmas 2007. Ben had come to Iowa for a brief visit at Thanksgiving, but Christmas was the first significant stretch of time together on "my turf," with my family.
Looking back at that time, I would characterize it something like this.
For 26 years, my family had been a warm, safe, happy place. Mealtimes were hilarious, traditions were sweet, camaraderies were strong. It was like singing a song with all the parts harmonizing together. In a certain deep way, I was who I was because of who I was with them.
Adding a zany, extrovert, adventurous, tumbleweed-type fellow to the mix introduced a discordant tune that I couldn't sing along to. And I wasn't sure I wanted to learn.
Ben and I went out for a date one night in Iowa. We ate pasta at Zio Johno's (the tasty, though not horribly authentic, Italian restaurant of my youth). I noticed uneasily that I would've possibly preferred to stay home and be with my sisters and parents.
Ben had a great idea one day and enthusiastically proposed that we go sledding at a huge hill nearby. My family, accommodating and non-confrontational, though not particularly adventurous, went along.
In the tangle of emotions, I felt a rising sense of uneasiness to walk ahead on this road. If I'm second-guessing the decisions he's making and fighting frustration for the ways he is changing the status quo, what am I doing "moving toward marriage"? This does not seem like a good idea.
So, late Thursday night, I scribbled out a lengthy note, invited Ben for a walk the next morning, and let him read my proposal that we pray about breaking up (or whatever it is you do when you stop courting).
It was quite a blow.
And the timing was impeccable. Within hours, my dad's entire side of the family descended on our house for a weekend-long Christmas celebration, and there wasn't a corner of quiet to be found.
Neither Ben nor I mentioned to anyone else what had unfolded, but somehow (ah, the perceptions of parents) my parents knew exactly what was going on.
Saturday morning I went for a run with my dad, my sister Lori, and Ben. When we got home, the others went inside, and my dad asked if I wanted to walk to cool down a little.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Sad," I said.
"Do you see the Lord working in Ben's life?" he asked.
"Well, definitely. But it just doesn't seem like a good idea to say we're pursuing marriage if I actually don't really trust him to make good decisions," I said.
"That's wise, but you're also pretty early in the process of getting to know each other. Maybe instead of cutting it off, you could take a step back, slow down the process," he said.
Hmm, that's a thought, I thought.
Sunday morning we all went to church. The church where I grew up, attending multiple times a week since infancy. Never before had I brought a guy to church with me. And, in classy form, I wouldn't even stand within 10 feet of him. He was left thoroughly to his own devices.
Sunday afternoon Ben and I loaded our things into a car for the drive back to Minnesota.
We started the trip 100% broken up.
But an interesting thing happened as we drove. I had the grace to articulate some of the big red flags that were bothering me so much. The overwhelming force of emotion from Ben that felt like a burden of expectation. The questions about his decision-making. And he listened. He listened really well.
By the time he dropped me off in front of 1604 Elliot Ave, we were no longer broken up. And that began a January of soul-searching for both of us.
I was in James at the time, and James 2:8 struck a deep chord: "If, however, you are fulfilling the royal law according to the Scripture, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself,' you are doing well."
Had I been loving my neighbor as myself? Had I been treating Ben like I wanted to be treated? Certainly, I wanted authenticity and openness from him, yet I had been holding myself back, keeping him at an arms' length while I conducted my own brand of "risk assessment." My own self-protection was a kind of insurance policy that had kept me from true give and take with him.
I apologized to him.
And he was undergoing his own painful process of inner growth, learning to hold back his emotions and not try to pull a response from me by sheer force of feeling. He started writing me notes regularly, with his own cartoons and clever artistry adorning each one.
By the end of January, I had a personal epiphany.
I had hesitated, applied the brakes, walked with caution, and prayed. I got lots of counsel, pulled back, and did my best to bail from the boat. I had done everything in my power to avoid a rash decision ... and God still had us together.
So I made a decision.
Rollar coaster over. No more second guessing. If God wanted to end the relationship, redirect the course, He would certainly be good enough to do that.
But I was not going to give space to doubts anymore.
Unless God shut the door, the course was set. This was a good gift that He was giving. And I would trust Him enough to take it.
The Break-up, the Un-break-up, and Walking into Love
i.e. Why Dads Are Important
So there we were, Christmas 2007. Ben had come to Iowa for a brief visit at Thanksgiving, but Christmas was the first significant stretch of time together on "my turf," with my family.
Looking back at that time, I would characterize it something like this.
For 26 years, my family had been a warm, safe, happy place. Mealtimes were hilarious, traditions were sweet, camaraderies were strong. It was like singing a song with all the parts harmonizing together. In a certain deep way, I was who I was because of who I was with them.
Adding a zany, extrovert, adventurous, tumbleweed-type fellow to the mix introduced a discordant tune that I couldn't sing along to. And I wasn't sure I wanted to learn.
Ben and I went out for a date one night in Iowa. We ate pasta at Zio Johno's (the tasty, though not horribly authentic, Italian restaurant of my youth). I noticed uneasily that I would've possibly preferred to stay home and be with my sisters and parents.
Ben had a great idea one day and enthusiastically proposed that we go sledding at a huge hill nearby. My family, accommodating and non-confrontational, though not particularly adventurous, went along.
In the tangle of emotions, I felt a rising sense of uneasiness to walk ahead on this road. If I'm second-guessing the decisions he's making and fighting frustration for the ways he is changing the status quo, what am I doing "moving toward marriage"? This does not seem like a good idea.
So, late Thursday night, I scribbled out a lengthy note, invited Ben for a walk the next morning, and let him read my proposal that we pray about breaking up (or whatever it is you do when you stop courting).
It was quite a blow.
And the timing was impeccable. Within hours, my dad's entire side of the family descended on our house for a weekend-long Christmas celebration, and there wasn't a corner of quiet to be found.
Neither Ben nor I mentioned to anyone else what had unfolded, but somehow (ah, the perceptions of parents) my parents knew exactly what was going on.
Saturday morning I went for a run with my dad, my sister Lori, and Ben. When we got home, the others went inside, and my dad asked if I wanted to walk to cool down a little.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Sad," I said.
"Do you see the Lord working in Ben's life?" he asked.
"Well, definitely. But it just doesn't seem like a good idea to say we're pursuing marriage if I actually don't really trust him to make good decisions," I said.
"That's wise, but you're also pretty early in the process of getting to know each other. Maybe instead of cutting it off, you could take a step back, slow down the process," he said.
Hmm, that's a thought, I thought.
Sunday morning we all went to church. The church where I grew up, attending multiple times a week since infancy. Never before had I brought a guy to church with me. And, in classy form, I wouldn't even stand within 10 feet of him. He was left thoroughly to his own devices.
Sunday afternoon Ben and I loaded our things into a car for the drive back to Minnesota.
We started the trip 100% broken up.
But an interesting thing happened as we drove. I had the grace to articulate some of the big red flags that were bothering me so much. The overwhelming force of emotion from Ben that felt like a burden of expectation. The questions about his decision-making. And he listened. He listened really well.
By the time he dropped me off in front of 1604 Elliot Ave, we were no longer broken up. And that began a January of soul-searching for both of us.
I was in James at the time, and James 2:8 struck a deep chord: "If, however, you are fulfilling the royal law according to the Scripture, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself,' you are doing well."
Had I been loving my neighbor as myself? Had I been treating Ben like I wanted to be treated? Certainly, I wanted authenticity and openness from him, yet I had been holding myself back, keeping him at an arms' length while I conducted my own brand of "risk assessment." My own self-protection was a kind of insurance policy that had kept me from true give and take with him.
I apologized to him.
And he was undergoing his own painful process of inner growth, learning to hold back his emotions and not try to pull a response from me by sheer force of feeling. He started writing me notes regularly, with his own cartoons and clever artistry adorning each one.
By the end of January, I had a personal epiphany.
I had hesitated, applied the brakes, walked with caution, and prayed. I got lots of counsel, pulled back, and did my best to bail from the boat. I had done everything in my power to avoid a rash decision ... and God still had us together.
So I made a decision.
Rollar coaster over. No more second guessing. If God wanted to end the relationship, redirect the course, He would certainly be good enough to do that.
But I was not going to give space to doubts anymore.
Unless God shut the door, the course was set. This was a good gift that He was giving. And I would trust Him enough to take it.
Friday, April 24, 2020
4 Years Old!
4 years old!
3 years old
2 years old
18 months old
3 years old
2 years old
18 months old
1 year old
11 months old
10 months old
9 months old
8 months old
7 months old
7 months old
6 months old
5 months
4 months
3 months
4 months
3 months
2 months
1 month
2 weeks old
Dear Elliot,
You are 4 years old! Amazing! You have grown by leaps and bounds in the last year!
These days...
- You are sleeping in a toddler bed, from which you climb in and out easily, but you still just hang out in bed when you wake up until somebody comes to get you. You like it! You read from a stack of magazines, sing a song, or just relax until someone (normally one of your brothers) comes up to say it's time to get up. Love it.
- You are a huge, hulking fellow. Thinking to be super ahead of the game, I bought a bunch of extra clothes and other assorted gifts when I was Christmas shopping, so I didn't have much I needed to get when your birthday rolled around. (This was good, since stores are closed now...) But I am dismayed to find that I bought everything a size too small, thinking of you as just a petite 3-year-old, instead of a big strapping 4-year-old. Sorry about that.
- You do a pretty good job eating your meals, although I would say you typically eat the least among your brothers (Calvin routinely polishes off his meal and has room for the remnants left over from you.) I've noticed your taking God's help to eat without grumbling, even when something is not your favorite, and I really appreciate that.
- You love to look at books. When we go to the library, you'll sit on the couch, quietly looking through the new loot for a long time. And you still like to cozy up with me and read a good book together, which is a lovely thing.
- You're gaining independence in so many areas! You're pretty good at getting your clothes on, going potty on your own, putting your dishes in the sink, washing your hands, brushing your teeth, getting your shoes on, and so forth. These are such huge steps forward! Great job!
- You are a fun and silly playmate with your brothers. It's so fun when you are all working on a big digging project in the construction site (the special project space in our backyard for you boys). Or playing "food tag" or Wild Kratts or other creative games together.
- You have a quick mind. Even though you aren't officially doing school, you join in with the big brothers for memory work, and you have mastered a surprising amount of information. (Your Sunday school small group leaders were pretty surprised when you could rattle off some facts about ancient history we learned in school!) And you show some analytical and organizational inclinations that show me God has given you a very good mind.
- A handful of times in the past year, you had some episodes of sudden, intense knee pain in your left knee. They would leave as quickly as they came, but we've seen some doctors about that. At this point, it looks like you're a strong, healthy boy with good mobility, which we thank God for!
- You have a joyful smile and contagious chuckle that brighten our days so much! You appreciate a good joke and tell them yourself.
We are in the midst of unusual and challenging days, with the COVID-19 pandemic continuing to change plans and affect lives all around the world. Even as we pray for God to grant protection, healing, and help from this serious virus, I am reminded about a much worse problem we have.
A universal sickness has affected the human race. We have sin-sick hearts, without exception. Even though you are sweet and cheerful much of the time, you have seen the trouble in your own heart as well. And the grim news is, our sin earns us death--separation from God forever.
Not only is this a horrible fate, there is no vaccine against it, no amount of personal protective measures can avoid it, and nothing we can do will provide healing from it.
But there is amazing and life-giving news:
But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8)
Left to ourselves, we will all fall to the sickness of sin in our hearts. But if we turn to Jesus and put our hope in His perfect sacrifice in our place, God actually makes us a part of His own family!
Your name means "The LORD is my God." And that is our great prayer for you, Elliot. That you will trust in Jesus and that He will be your God, and you will be His child forever.
I love you, sweet Elliot!
Momma
Elliot (4.24.20) 4 years old
1.
What is your favorite color? Green
2.
What is your favorite toy? My piano
3.
What is your favorite fruit? Grapes
4.
What is your favorite video to watch? Wild
Kratts
5.
What is your favorite thing to eat for lunch? Macaroni
and cheese
6.
What is your favorite thing to wear? My new
glow-in-the-dark dinosaur shirt
7.
What is your favorite game? Qwirkle
8.
What is your favorite snack? popcorn
9.
What is your favorite animal? dogs
10.
What is your favorite song? Hippopotamus (Hip
Hip Hooray God Made All of Us)
11.
What is your favorite verse? When I am afraid I
will trust in You, in God whose word I praise.
12.
What is your favorite book? Daniel Tiger
13.
Who is your best friend? Charis and Sam
14.
What is your favorite thing to do outside? Run
and play with my remote control cars
15.
What is your favorite drink? Apple juice
16.
What do you like to sleep with at night? My
puppy
17.
What is your favorite thing to eat for
breakfast? pancakes
18.
What do you want for dinner on your birthday? Culvers
19.
What do you want to be when you grow up? Motorcycle
rider
20.
What was one of your favorite things that you
did this year? Going camping
21.
What is your favorite place to go? To the zoo
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