Embracing this Beautiful Season

Fall brings with it an emotional struggle for me every year. I love the colors of fall, the snuggle of a hoodie, the comfort of a backyard fire, and eating soup (sorry pumpkin lovers, I’m not in your crew). BUT, I always mourn the loss of flip flop weather, less daylight, fun days at the pool, and dread the reality that winter is coming (I despise winter). I enjoy the look of the season change, but sometimes struggle to fully embrace it because of what it means is now over. This fall however, I have two little boys who love campfires and s’mores as much as I do. (a) has been waiting impatiently for weeks to pull out his beloved hoodies, and (b) loves playing outside without getting eaten alive by the summer bugs. They seem totally thrilled with fall- and so I am trying not to think about what is past but instead enjoy this beautiful season.

I’m realizing it isn’t just the outside season that is changing, but the season of our lives as well. In the same week last month, (a) started Pre-K and (b) started walking. Now car rides are spent spelling every word he things of for him, discussing letter sounds, and hearing about his class science and cooking projects. He absolutely loves learning and has fallen in love with school. After he spent quite a while one evening this week telling me all the letter sounds for the words on his coloring sheet- I told (A) I couldn’t get over how quickly he was absorbing it all. He is becoming a student, and this is a whole new season for us. As a teacher I’m beyond thrilled for his love of learning, as a mama I am watching the season change. And I am trying with all my being to not hold on to the past, but instead enjoy this beautiful season. (b) started walking with a few toddling steps here and there. He would still often choose to do this funny, scooty crawl thing because it was faster for him for the next couple weeks. But in the last two weeks we have gone to full out walking, and who am I kidding, running around everywhere he wants to go. Finding his feet has also meant he as found more things he can get into, more things he can climb and ride, and has freed his hands up for carrying anything he wants (which is often swords, nerf guns, and water squirters). This new found walking confidence also seems to be brining with it some talking confidence too as we are picking up new words quickly, and just this week has started repeating “I love you” often when you say it to him first (be still my mama heart!) I have always referred to him as “our baby,” but as he walked all over outside the other night eating marshmallows and yelling at the dogs, I looked at (a) and said I don’t think I can call him a baby anymore, I think truthfully it is much more accurate to call him a toddler. My heart snagged just a little as we pulled out the totes of fall clothes for me to retrieve the next size and season for him. But thankfully pulling out those hand-me-downs from (a) brought back a lot of great memories, and it made it a whole lot easier not to hold on to the past, but instead enjoy this beautiful season. Ready or not, change is here. The leaves in our yard are starting to turn, the temps are consistently cooler. The boys are growing and becoming who God created them to be. And so I will choose not to mourn the loss of what was, but instead be thankful for the all the precious memories we have made and experiences we shared. I will not cling to the past, but instead enjoy this beautiful season. “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” Ecclesiastes 3:1

A Lesson in Weakness

 For the last few weeks, my time has felt more torn than ever before.  My school district does not have a separate teacher devoted to full time remote students, so I am juggling both in-person and online instruction for both types of students in both my grade levels.  We are not structured in a way this year that I have any time to devote to one-on-one help for students who are behind or confused, or any time to let them play “catch-up.” My hours at school have my heart and my time torn into how to make the best of all this, but give everyone the best of ME that I can give them.  Once I leave school for the evening, my time is still torn between trying to do what is best for my family but also trying to be available to answer parent emails and messages, because I know they are also in a hard spot of having worked all day and are now home with their students trying to navigate remote homework (students leave at 1:30 daily, so they are still responsible for some remote work in the afternoon after in-person instruction).  My body is exhausted and I am torn between feeling like I should lay down for some rest or pulling on my tennis shoes to go put in a couple miles for the good of my health.  The daily messes of two ornery boys need my attention, but then so do those boys themselves.  It is all one precarious juggling act, and truthfully, it is one I know most teachers and parents are all facing right now.  It leaves me feeling so weak and inadequate.

 

I have been looking for ways to make it ALLLLLL happen.  But instead God’s gently reminding me that it isn’t possible right now to make it ALL happen, what I needed to learn was how to allow myself a little grace.  This week I’ve TRIED to focus on not just surviving, but finding ways to give myself some grace and peace.  Not stressing over ALLL the things, just doing the best I could in the moment I was given.  Some evenings I pulled on the tennis shoes- I knew my mind and body would feel much better after a couple miles on the pavement.  One night I just let myself crash on the couch.  Most nights I planned ahead for an easy prep meal, but one night we did drive-thru. This week I released the guilt of going to bed at 8:30.  With the creative help of another teacher, I have come up with a way to do a small fraction of my usual differentiated reading instruction while still following all our COVID restraints.  I still feel like I am failing to give them my usual best, but it is the best I can do in the moment I’m given.  And oh those ornery boys… I’m so thankful they give me grace over and over.  Such as Monday evening when (a) was cleaning out his pony stall, (b) was riding his little scooter trike, and I stepped into the barn for just a minute to grab hay for the pony.  When I walked back around the corner I didn’t see (b) on his trike, instead he was in the pony stall with his brother wearing a HUGE smile and laughing as he squeezed pony manure through his tiny fingers.  Mom FAIL= Boy FUN… they just keep giving me grace.  The night I was too tired to move from the couch- (a) announced the  was EXACTLY where he wanted me to be so he could “lead worship” in the living room and I could watch and sing along (oh and play the tambourine for him).Their invitations to play toys together often give me more of an urge to clean up the messes of toys, but giving myself the grace to sit down and play together seemed to give me the energy to do all the clean-up more quickly later.

Together we first PLAYED, then we managed to clean up more messes than we just made

 

I’m not doing it all.  I’m not going to be able to do it all.  But in all the things I am doing, I find a little grace going a long way.  It has been a powerful lesson in my extreme weakness, and my need for my extremely strong and gracious Father.

 

“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is make perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” 2 Corinthians 12:9

Writing a Story

 It really is rare when I sit down to write and find myself staring at a blank screen.  But when it does happen, it is usually because my heart is completely overwhelmed.  This has been one of those weeks.  In 7 days time my health has been tested, my emotions have run an entire marathon, my workload changed to a completely different platform in a matter of hours, my stress level has been up and down and back again, AND to complicate matters, I spent 3 days completely covered in hives.

 

I won’t share the whole story today, because it isn’t over yet, and I make a point not to tell a story until the time is right.  But in the chapter that has been the last week here are a few things I have observed.

 

Life is better when you are surrounded by amazing people.  When you have friends who drive 7 hours to spend 3 with you.  When someone shows up with dinner that all I had to do was stick it in the oven.  When a friend texts you (having no idea what your week was like) to ask to keep your kids so you can have a date night.  When someone loves you enough to laugh about your child’s brutal honesty towards them even when you are horrifyingly embarrassed by it.  When people stand in the gap to pray when you don’t have any words.  When THOSE kind of people are your people, even hives aren’t quite as noticeable.

 

Redemption is a beautiful thing.  Some dates are forever burned in my memory.  Many of those memories are wonderful, but others are not.  In the past week we passed over one of those hard dates, BUT GOD… used that exact date to do an unexpected and wonderful thing and His voice whispered over my heart more than once “I am redeeming this.”

 

Sometimes you have to walk away. The stress level of teacher life this year is greater than anything I could have imagined.  And I can and I am doing hard things… but I also realized that sometimes I have to step away and let it wait for the next day.  At home there are three pretty awesome guys waiting for me to laugh with them, feed them, play on the floor with them, or help with their laundry.  They are worth setting the stress aside and saying “this will still be here when I come back tomorrow.”

Tree climbing and pony pampering are worth walking away from the stress for

 My story God is writing is not over yet.  There are still unknown parts that I am praying for the ability to trust Him with.  There are still chapters I don’t know the titles of.  But this chapter reminded me that He has His hands over it all.  He can redeem the story, provide for my needs, and He even took away the hives.

 

“When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.” Psalms 49:19

Becoming My Parents

Last night it was fresh bedding night for our pony, Snoopy.  Every few weeks we grab a couple fresh bags of shavings to replenish what is carried out with the daily stall clean-out.  As I pulled the plastic wrapped bales of pine shavings out of my SUV, (a) announced “I’ll dump em and you make em soft, ok!?” I agreed and giggled to myself as I knew he meant fluff and spread when he told me to “make em soft.”  Pine shaving don’t weigh much, so it wasn’t a big deal for him to pick them up, but they are packed pretty tightly and the plastic wrap is very snug, so my 4-year-old’s efficiency at dumping them was kind of another story.  When he couldn’t get them to just fall out, he began pulling handfuls out of the bag at a time.  In the process of that he started getting shavings down in his rubber boots, so then he had his boot off, standing on one foot like a stork dumping shavings, while he leaned on the bag he was supposed to be emptying.  It was kind of becoming one of those “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie…” scenarios.  

Success!! After...

Boot drama and...

frustration

But instead of jumping in to help him or fix it, I found myself watching and talking him through it while still making him independently solve the problem.  Eventually he got the boot back on and attempted the dumping again.  I suggested maybe he should tear back a little more of the plastic and showed him what I meant on the bag I was holding.  He tried it, and what do ya know- success!  After he had both bags dumped where he wanted them, I took the stall fork and started spreading and fluffing.  As I worked, I was talking him through why I was doing what I was doing.  He then came over and asked to take a turn.  While we finished up, I also talked with him about being more careful not to get SO many shavings with every scoop of manure he cleaned out of the stall in the mornings- sure it’s part of the process, but there is no need to be wasteful. 

 

After that process was finished, we mixed some new feed I had grabbed for Snoop from “the farm store.”  He pasture is getting eaten down pretty thin, so we opted to supplement him with a little bit of beet pulp.  For years I fed beet pulp to show heifers, but I realized that was long before (a) was around and he didn’t know the process of wetting it down to soften it and make it expand, so before I knew it we were both crouched over the bucket with hands in mixing wet feed.  He thought that process was epic, but loudly announced “I would NOT eat that!”  I giggled and told him it really wasn’t bad at all, and then I pulled out one of the wet shreds and offered it to him to try (I promise, it is totally safe).  He took it, chewed it up, and declared it was pretty good! He then asked me, “Mama have you had this before?”  I assured him I had chewed on beet pulp a few times myself to which he followed up with “Who gave it to you?”  I didn’t hesitate to answer, “Poppa Loran” (the name he calls my dad). 

 

But with that simple answer, I realized many other things.  Not only did Poppa Loran teach me to try a sweet, wet shred of beet pulp from time to time, he taught me how to mix it by getting my own hands dirty with him.  He often helped us practice the “art” of scooping manure without wasting bark or shavings in a heifer stall.  When we were figuring out how to do something, he usually talked us through it while making us independently problem solve, dump our own boots, and try again.  He talked us through why he was doing something as he did it.  And he let us work beside him on jobs that would probably have been quicker and easier to do himself, but he found value in the teaching instead of just getting it done.  In a few moments flashback, I realized that with my son in the barn I am a lot like my dad.  (a) brought me back to the present when he picked back up the conversation of who gave me the beet pulp by asking “Was he YOUR Poppa then?” And I just smiled as I said, “Well yes, but he isn’t my grandpa, I call him ‘Dad’.” 

 

In an hour’s worth of work, we had a successful cowboy, a happy pony, and a new reality that I am becoming my parents.  And I decided I am more than thankful for all three.

 

“Children’s children are a crown to the aged, and parents are the pride of their children.” Proverbs 17:6

The View from Above

 Early Sunday morning I had an amazing opportunity.  Because I have a very dear friend who knows the right people, I had the privilege to take a flight in a hot air balloon.  It was the last flight official flight of our local Balloonfest and the guys and I had already spent a good part of the weekend admiring the balloons’ beauty and the awe of how they work.  But the feeling of being in one, early in the morning as the sun was just coming up was even more breathtaking (in a good way!) than I could have imagined. 

 With no loud engine you could still hear all the sounds- the dogs barking, the occasional cars below, the burners of other balloons.  With no glass blocking the view you could see the dew on the fields, sparkle of the sunrise on the local lake, the leafy trees and the dead ones, even who needed to clean out their swimming pool.  With no boosting engine you don’t feel the take-off, just a gentle float up into the air, and even though we had some speed on us, I never felt a strong wind, or the speed at which we were going.  Instead I felt completely secure, and the most incredible PEACE I have felt in a long time.  I tried taking pictures and videos, but they couldn’t possibly capture the beauty or the feeling, so I spend most of the ride with my phone put away just enjoying the experience. 

 The other thing I will never forget from the flight was that I shared it with another first time flyer- only she was in her 80’s and is the dearest, sweetest lady.  Her family crews for this balloon pilot, and she joins along but had never flown.  At the VERY last moment before takeoff, the second passenger felt like she was unable to go that day, and they all turned to “Grandma” to offer her the chance (completely assuming she would say no).  Instead she didn’t hesitate to hop in the basket with me and told me as she flew how tickled she was with herself for doing it and how proud she was that she completely surprised her family by jumping on the opportunity.  We marveled together at the beauty and the peacefulness of the experience.  When it was over, we landed at a gorgeous farm, and I stayed with her just to help make sure she didn’t slip on the wet grass as we went down in and back out of a small ravine to get where we needed to be.  As we walked and chatted, she was beyond excited to discover I was her minister’s wife and she took my hand and told me “What we had here this morning was a God experience! And we got to share it together!” 

 I couldn’t have agreed more. That view from above somehow felt like I was a little closer to my Creator as I took in all the beauty of His works, the peacefulness calmed my heart, and the joy I shared with my new friend sealed the deal.  And I will admit, starting my day with that experience even made Sunday morning worship come more “alive” to me later that morning.  The view from above was the perfect reminder I have been needing to still my anxious heart.  I have felt a lot of stress, heartache, frustration, and anxiousness lately- all of which have been work related.  Navigating the new and different have been hard (I CAN do hard things), but while some families have been supportive and gracious, others have been very hard on our staff and have lashed out at us in anger and frustration.  On top of the abnormal- we have had some curriculum delivery delays and staffing changes that have made everything more complicated.  When those worries and stressors overtake me, this week I have been able to close my eyes, take a deep breath, and remember that view from above.  While I realize that being up high doesn’t actually mean I was any closer to the Father, that place of peace and beauty gave me incredible perspective that focused me on Him.  The view from above reminds me that He is in control, I can always go to him to find my peace and purpose, and I can feel completely secure in His loving arms.  I’m holding on tight to that view from above.

 

“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.” Isaiah 26:3

Just a Little Encouragement

 Well, our sweet, adorable (b) has found his walking feet and is starting to take several steps.  I love watching him toddle around, I love how resilient he is with each fall and how persistent he is to get up again over and over.  But the part that is the absolute BEST (in my mama opinion) is how much he cheers and claps for himself over the accomplishment.  Even if it was just 2 or 3 steps, when he finishes, or falls down he wears the biggest smile and begins clapping and waving his arms victoriously.  Now, I realize this is because he sees and hears us cheering and clapping for him and his accomplishment, but as I watch I see that sometimes he even gets up and tries again JUST so we will cheer and clap for him.  Just a little encouragement is some pretty powerful motivation when you are one.

 

But I will be honest, just a little encouragement can be pretty powerful motivation when you are older than one, too.  A few weeks ago, I created and shared an Amazon wish list for my classroom, and as the list items were purchased and boxes started showing up, I was completely overcome with emotions.  There were wonderful treasurers for my classroom and my students, but even better still were the notes of love and encouragement that arrived in those boxes.  Feeling the support from SO many friends, family members, classroom parents, former teachers of mine, and former colleagues had tears of joy running down my face with each box opened.  That encouragement made the beginning of an uncertain school year more certain of a few things- I became certain that I COULD do hard things, and certain that I was covered in prayer.

 

I would be lying if I said the start of this school year has been smooth.  Truthfully it has been anything but smooth, and some of the hardest bumps I never even saw coming.  But with each bump, when I wasn’t even sure WHAT to feel- I was quickly met with encouragement- most that I never even saw coming.  Friends sending or showing up with care packages, an incredibly thoughtful anonymous gift, calls and texts just to check-in.  They have all kept me moving forward, looking for silver linings, and reminding me I will get this figured out, and I will find ways to thrive amid uncertainty. 

 

And so I will keep clapping and cheering for my little walker, doing happy dances and sprinkling invisible glitter and fairy dust towards my students (cause, you know high-fives and such are out this year), reminding my husband he is a rockstar for keeping things rolling in our home, and telling students’ parents that “together, we’ve got this!”  Because I have felt the blessings of a little encouragement… and I can’t help but pass it on.

 

“Therefore, encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.”  1 Thessalonians 5:11

On the Other Side of the Desk

 As I prepared my “Meet the Teacher” page for my students this week, I decided to throw back to my 3^rd and 4^th grade pictures so they could see what I looked like when I sat on their side of the desk.  It made me giggle as I thought about all the feelings and concerns I had when I was on their side of the desk. 

 

I remember worrying what people would think of my outfit and taking the time to very carefully pick out what I would wear for that first day of school.  I remember wondering if kids would still like me and want to be my friend after being apart all summer.  I worried what the lunch situation would be like and who would play with me at recess.  I remember feeling stress about wanting to get it all right and do my very best with my work.  That first morning there were always butterflies in my tummy as I hoped that I hadn’t forgotten something important or I wouldn’t do something that made me look stupid.  But I also remember the excitement.  I enjoyed school, I loved my teachers, I loved using new school supplies, getting to learn new things, and having adventures in my new classroom.  There were so many emotions with that first day.

 

I am typing this tonight after finally leaving my classroom after 9:00 the night before students arrive for the first time. I have spent HOURS planning, prepping, decorating, communicating.  Papers are laid out, digital set-ups are ready, name tags are placed, and desks have been individually prayed over.  I now sit on the other side of the desk, the bigger desk that will soon have stacks of papers on it and binders full of lesson plans.  As I giggled about my 3^rd and 4^th grade pictures, I realized my emotions on the other side of the desk are really not so different.  I spent some time this evening thinking about what outfit I will wear for that first day.  I worry a little thinking about if my students and their parents will like me.  I’m nervous about what the lunch situation will be like, and how will I eat on the days that I also have duty.  I am still feeling stress about wanting to get it all right and do my very best with my work.  There are butterflies in my tummy as I hope I haven’t forgotten something important on my list, or do something that makes it look like I’m unqualified.  But I am also incredibly full of excitement.  I can’t wait to see my students, I love the team of people I work with, I love organizing those new school supplies, teaching new things each day, and having amazing adventures in my classroom.  I still have so many emotions with that first day. 

 

I pray that even though I am now on the other side of the desk, I never forget just how much alike my students and I really are.  May I will always remember what it felt like to sit on the other side of the desk. 

 

“Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” Psalms 90:12

I Can Do Hard Things

This is it- the week before school starts.  After nearly 5 months out of my classroom I am very excited to see my students, be back among my co-workers, and get back to face-to-face instruction.  But I am also facing so many stressful things as well… how do I prepare for in-person instruction as well as remote for one day of the week and part of each afternoon while simultaneously having full-time remote plans for any families who choose that option, and be ready to pivot on a dime if we return to full-time remote learning.  Will there be enough time to prepared them for routines and expectations for full-time remote? How do we juggle the safety precautions, meet academic needs, and give attention to social/emotional needs? How do I juggle this for my own family- the boys have been out of daycare for months, everyone has gotten used to homecooked meals and a constant stream of clean laundry.

 

As I laid down in bed a few nights ago I was crying to (A) about just how stressed I am about it.  After going through my list of worries, I finally said, “It is just all SO HARD.”  There are going to be hard choices, hard tasks, hard situations, hard emotions to navigate- and there are NO good answers to many of those struggles.  While I didn’t quit crying, I did begin praying about how to navigate it all… and in time, God’s gentle voice reminded me, “You can do hard things.”  It stopped me in my tracks.  Yes, all of this is hard, but with God’s help, I CAN do hard things.  As I look back, I realize I have done hard things before, many of them, and I will do hard things again.  So I decided it would be my mantra for the school year (and of course in elementary teacher fashion, I am currently working on a cutesy sign to hang that phrase in my classroom).  I can do hard things.

 

The next day I received an email from our youth minister about the high school class I will be teaching this fall on Sunday evenings.  The book he has selected… Do Hard Things.  I had to smile, yes, God, you knew I would need constant reminders. 

 

The more I have prayed about it and done some studying, I realize it is ok to acknowledge the hard.  Some things are just exactly that- hard.  We can’t always smile and say it is all going to be ok, and not everything can be fixed with a kiss and a band-aid.  But just because something is hard, I do not have to be stopped by it.  I’m sure this school year is going to bring hard choices, hard conversations, and hard work.  It is going to be hard to stay comfortable in a mask, hard to not hug my kiddos, hard to navigate the tricky schedule, hard to keep everyone happy, and hard to balance it with my own family, but I can do hard things. 

 

I decided to test my theory on Tuesday when I announced to the boys we were going to have an all day shopping trip- the kind where Mama needs to go 42 places to get 2-3 things each stop to have my classroom and our house ready for back to school.  The kind of shopping trip that (A) refuses to go on because it way exceeds his limit of stops.  And I was going to do that with a 1 and 4 year-old AND keep (a) and I masked.  I knew it would be hard, almost impossible, to navigate this day in a successful way that didn’t end with at least one of us in tears.  But as I hopped on the interstate headed toward the city with two sleeping boys in the back seat, I just started repeating, “I can do hard things.  I can do hard things.”  Instead of unrealistic hopes, I just faced it straight on… this was going to be a challenge, but I could do it.  And to my shock, we had an absolutely wonderful day, complete with a fun “lunch date.”  Was it perfect- nope.  But it was so incredibly enjoyable. 

 

Ignore my lack of mascara... that is a totally different long story

Instead of being frustrated by the hard, I embraced it, expected it, and took it on as a challenge.  Will I have that same outcome for every hard situation this year- no way.  But by the grace of God, I CAN DO hard things. 

What Hasn't Been Taken

This year has been unlike any other in my life.  I think “cancelled” is one of the words I have heard more in 2020 than I ever care to hear the rest of my life.  On my sparse calendar there were still two events in September that I was really looking forward to.  One was the bicentennial celebration at my home church and the other was a women’s retreat where I was going to be teaching.  However, on Monday this week my mom texted to let me know the church had cancelled the bicentennial celebration.  Then on Tuesday, the women’s retreat coordinator called me to pull the plug on that event as well.  I was pretty heartbroken. 

 

I am ashamed to admit that my first thought was pretty crude as I just wanted to scream, “2020 sucks.”  All I could think about was how many things we have missed out on this year.  We were supposed to be at church camp this week- one of our favorite parts of summer.  I’m preparing for a school year with no convocations, no PE, no recess, no field trips, no group science projects, no language arts board games, and no visible smiles.  And that is just this week’s list of disappointments and worries.  Everyone I know could go on and on about the weddings moved, graduations cancelled, proms that didn’t happen, new babies with no grandparent visits at the hospital, and so many other things.  As I found myself wanting to throw a huge pity party I had to stop.  I felt myself going down the rabbit hole of sadness and anger, and before I could get the words out about how angry I was at all 2020 had taken away, a gentle whisper reminded me of what 2020 had GIVEN me.

 

I was given more time home with the boys than I would have had in any normal year.  In that time, I watched them grow and develop a little more each day.  I have been given more snuggles and giggles than usual.  We were given more family dinners than we have ever had as (A)’s evening meetings and engagements were scaled way back.  We were given more trips to the farm than the last 2 summers allowed.  My grandparents move to the farm in 2020 has given me more time with them this year than the last several years combined.  I was given more time to work on projects both inside and outside the house.  I have had the opportunity to read more books for pleasure than usual.  Even some of the crazy events had a silver lining- such as not needing to worry about sub plans for school when I had my emergency extraction of all 4 wisdom teeth (and the money we were saving by not going to daycare was available to pay for the procedure).  And our extra time out of the building allowed my school a BEAUTIFUL face lift with a renovation grant we received pre-pandemic. 

 

When I focus on what was taken from us this year the heartbreak is overwhelming, but when I focus on what we were given my heart is much more thankful.  2020 may have taken all the events off of my calendar, but it is not going to take my joy.

 

“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:18

When the Time is Right

Yesterday, my sister, (a), and I went on a special adventure.  We climbed in her truck and headed to central Kentucky to pick up (a)’s new pony, Snoopy.  Now if you know us personally you might be counting and realize that he now has 3 ponies, but this one is extra special- he isn’t another pony for the farm in Indiana.  Snoopy is coming to live at our house in Illinois.  Back in March when the world shut down, we had more time at home for projects, and we made a promise to a little cowboy. He had been begging for a pony to keep at our house so he could ride much more often than just when we came to the farm in Indiana.  We promised him that if he would help with the work, we would dedicate a space in our barn and build some fence so we could get a pony for our house.  And thus began the project he has referred to as “the pony palace” for the last several months. 

(a) and Snoopy were fast friends in about 2 minutes

Building pony fence with his Poppa Loran

 I talked to my mom about “the pony palace” project several times over the months.  He was SO excited and I had to share giggles about all the funny things he said in his excitement.  But I also shared with her my concerns about actually finding the right pony.  See, awesome kid ponies are kind of like unicorns, they are pretty tricky to find.  By nature, lots of ponies are kind of ornery, persnickety creatures.  We were looking for one that was so gentle our cowboy could waller all over it, already broke to ride like a pro because the rider is still learning, and didn’t have any ornery habits like biting or kicking.  My sister is amazing and had been on the hunt for quite a while through her many equine connections, but one day several weeks ago as I was talking to mom, I was just feeling bummed at the wait/trickiness of finding a good one.  Mom said something very wise (as she always does).  She told me, “when the time is right, the right one will come along.”  Those words have resonated with me nearly every day since. 

 

It made me think of all the times I life I didn’t want to wait for things.  In high school I would have loved a cute boyfriend like so many of my friends had.  Coming out of college I wanted the perfect teaching job like many of my friends in bigger cities were landing.  Six years into marriage I wanted a baby like our friends were snuggling.  When we accepted our new ministry in Illinois I wanted to have a new house picked out before our house in Indiana sold. I could go on and on… but each time MY timing wasn’t right.  But God is gracious, and in His perfect timing the right one came along.  The right guy came along to be a great husband and walk through life with me.  The right teaching positions came along to mold me and make me the educator I am today.  The right doctors walked beside us to help give us two wonderful, healthy little boys.  The right home for our family (with plenty of room to welcome a pony) came along right after we sold our house.  When the time was RIGHT… the right one came along.

 

And like she usually is, Mom was right.  Snoopy is super sweet, gentle, and exactly right for our cowboy.  They were fast friends complete with hugs and kisses in a matter of minutes, and within 10 minutes of his pit stop at the farm they were having a VERY successful first ride together.

 

I realize the “right” pony pales in comparison to the right husband, kids, career, and home.  But this pony had been the daily prayer of a 4-year-old boy (and truthfully his parents) for months, and our new pal, Snoopy, is the perfect reminder of how God cares for even the smallest details, the sparrows of the air, the lilies of the field, or in our case- the pony of our pasture.

“He has made everything beautiful in its time.  He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” Ecclesiastes 3:11

Mayhem Memories

On Saturday morning, I was working in the kitchen when (b) emerged from the hallway soaking wet, smelling minty fresh, and grinning from ear to ear.  I quickly panicked as I announced “Why do you smell minty?” and went looking for the source of the situation.  Didn’t take me long to find an entire bottle of mouthwash spilled all over the bathroom floor.

 

On Monday morning, I ran to the bedroom for just a minute to grab something and began hearing cries from the kitchen.  I went running back to the kitchen to discover (b) had opened the cabinet under the sink and found the large, sticky glue mouse trap that I kept under there “just in case.”  But when I say he “found” it, I mean he had it stuck to his arm, leg, and pacifier and more was all over the floor.  It was a mess of EPIC proportion.  After I cleaned it all up (and cried a little) I called (A) to inform him he was not allowed to go to bed that night until he had installed the cabinet child locks that I had been asking him to do for several days. 

 

I was replaying the scenarios to my mom and sisters on our family group text when one of my sisters jokingly suggested we should nickname that cutie “Mayhem” after the popular insurance commercial where a man calling himself “Mayhem” continually shows up causing issues and messes.  We got a good laugh out of it, but then he illustrated it perfectly on Wednesday while we were having a lake day with friends and he showed off his intensely messy “lake hair” along with the disaster of a melty chocolate chip granola bar.  He sure is cute, but makes me giggle as I remember that parenting isn’t for the faint of heart.

 

However, while cleaning this week I had to pause a moment and think about how fleeting the days are.  I was tackling all the bathroom mirrors for water spots and smudges, and while I had the glass cleaner out I headed for the patio door as well.  This door is always COVERED with fingerprints as both boys stand there frequently watching the wildlife in the yard, looking at Daddy mow, checking what the weather is up to, or watching each other.  But as I started to spray down the messy window as I often do, this week I just couldn’t do it.  I looked at those little fingerprints and thought about how quickly they are growing.  Once I wipe them away that size will be gone forever as they grow a little each day, and while I do not want to stop them from growing, I want to remember each precious memory every little sticky fingerprint holds. 

 

At dinner last night (a) informed me “I’m sorry Mama, (b) and I are growing up, and you can’t stop us!” To which I paused reflectively and then responded, “I know buddy, and I wouldn’t want you to stop, because that would mean something is wrong.” Despite the mayhem, the messy, and the chaos, these are the things that memories are made of, because (a) is right, they are growing up, I can’t stop them, and I don’t want to.  So if you stop by and see fingerprints all over my patio door, just know I’m holding on to those mayhem memories.

 

“I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy…” Philippians 1: 3-4