Have You Seen This?

My Aunt Elaine sent me a link to this video. I can't watch it without getting all choked up. The incredible musical gifts this young man has are amazing! And to think that the vast majority of people in the US would say a baby in utero with those defects should be aborted. Shameful! And then to see the loving relationship between this father and his son...well, I just can't help but get teary-eyed. Whew, let me go grab a tissue...

Like Dreams that Disappear *Updated*

~ Jeff took this picture on one of the back roads near our house - August 2009

The heart-rending tragedy of the earthquake in Haiti is but the latest reminder of the brevity of life. Truly, none of us is guaranteed tomorrow. Is that a depressing thought? Is the idea of God "sweeping us away like dreams that disappear" cause for undue mourning? Not necessarily. Not if, as I firmly believe, the hope of heaven changes everything. And not according to the author of Psalm 90, a psalm that is filled with trust and hope and longing for God to be glorified. It begins, "Lord, through all the generations, you have been our home!" and ends with "Let our children see your glory. And may the Lord our God show us his approval and make our efforts successful. Yes, make our efforts successful!" That's a prayer I can pray with all my heart!

* I've thought a lot about this verse and this post during the past 24 hours. Shav's frequent night waking helped me to truly meditate day AND NIGHT on God's word. :) A few other thoughts have come to me that I want to jot down:

~ My heart breaks more and more as I read further reports from Haiti. The suffering is unimaginable, and I know that God's heart is aching, too, as He sees the full extent of the pain and devastation there.

~ When I think of death, another verse often comes to my mind: "Brothers, we do not want you to...grieve like the rest of men who have no hope." (I Thess. 4:13) Whether death comes in the form of an earthquake, or a disease, or a car accident, or a criminal act, whether it comes to myriads of people at the same time or one by one, our reaction, despite our deep grief, can still be hope--all because of Jesus Christ and His work on the cross. One thing is certain: death will come to all of us (unless Jesus returns first, of course!). When we stick our head in the sand and pretend like we'll live forever, we live unwisely; but when we embrace the realization that the day of our passing from this life to the next is coming, it changes the choices we make each day, paring down the peripheral issues to those things that truly matter in the light of eternity.

~ Sometimes when tragedies are as huge as this one, we feel helpless to make any difference. But in this situation, there are a myriad of opportunities for each of us to reach out and extend a helping hand--no matter how small--to our neighbors to the south. I've heard and read from a number of people who have personal connections to Haiti, and I know that the hearts of many, many people are being stirred to assist the beloved people of Haiti.

More Important

The crik didn't rise...the deviled eggs and cake got made...but I'm not following through with my intention to blog about Shav at four months. The reason is because another four month old boy, Ayden, was taken home to be with Jesus some time ago; and tonight, I wanted to spend my time doing a little something to bring a ray of comfort to his mother.

I don't know Lindsay in real life, but I ran across her blog and was touched deeply by her story of love and loss. I cannot imagine what she's going through; as much as I try to fathom the pain of losing a child, I just can't do it. The only thing that gives me a glimpse of what it might be like is the miscarriage I had almost three years ago, but that doesn't even come close to the level of suffering that Lindsay is enduring.

However, when I read on Lindsay's blog that she is finding comfort in pictures that people are sending her of her son's name, my experience with the miscarriage gave me a tiny insight into why that means so much to her...at least, I think it does. Maybe her thoughts are totally different from mine, I don't know. But I do remember how, after my miscarriage, I wanted that baby to be real...I wanted someone to recognize that life and remember that it had existed...I wanted something to hold onto, to be able to see and touch, something concrete so that the pregnancy wouldn't simply evaporate into the air and be lost from memory in the history of the world. The baby I had dreamed of having was gone, but I didn't want the memory of it to vanish with it. In our case, it was far too early in our pregnancy to know if it was a boy or a girl, so we didn't name it or anything like that. But I still remember...I still hold it in my heart...and I can imagine that seeing Ayden's name pictured in various ways helps Lindsay hold him in her heart and reassures her that others are holding onto his memory, too.

So many times when I read blogs of people who are going through difficult times, I wish fervently that there was something I could do to help. I do pray for situations I read about, and I truly believe that is the most effective thing I can do. But when I read Lindsay's request for pictures for Ayden's name gallery, I was so happy to be able to actually do something for her. I used some buttons from my button stash and came up with this...

I'm posting this in hopes that there are others of you who could come up with a way to take a picture of Ayden's name and then send it to Lindsay...and even more of you could simply take the time to pray for comfort for her and her husband. We may not be able to change the world; but if we can ease the suffering of a fellow mother even a small amount, it's worth the effort.

I still plan to write about Shav at four months...maybe tomorrow? But for tonight, this was more important.

Not So Bad After All

I was going to write about how long and tiring and up-and-down emotionally and at times just plain tough...how difficult my day was, despite some really good moments in it.  However, when I checked my email tonight, there was one with this link in it: to Noah's Road.  This is a new blog about a little baby boy who was shaken by his daycare provider and is in very serious condition; his parents and the medical team don't know if he'll even survive and, if he does, what the long-term effects will be.  My heart breaks for them.  I cannot fathom what Noah's parents must be going through.  I have been so indescribably blessed to never find myself in a similar situation.  To say, "thank You, God!" for the life and health of my children seems grossly inadequate; but say it, I do--over and over again.

I've decided my day wasn't so bad after all, and I end this day with a fervent prayer in my heart for God to do a miracle in little Noah's body and raise him up to be restored to his parents.

Friday Morning...

...usually finds us at our homeschool co-op.  Not today, however.

The little coughs and sniffles of earlier this week have turned into more noticeable health afflictions, with Josiah being the hardest hit.  When I checked Josiah's fever last night and the thermometer read 102.7, it was an easy decision to make to not go to co-op.  I called the lead teacher of the class in which I was supposed to be assisting, and she quickly assured me that she could handle things just fine and I was free to stay at home with my boys.  Yippee!  :)

At the present time, Tobin is having his morning nap, Josiah and David are resting on the couch while watching a movie, the washing machine is spinning its way to another load of clean laundry, the temperature outside is already up to 60 beautiful degrees, and I'm seizing the chance to blog.  This post will be an assortment of all kinds of random things--just a chance to catch up and jot down things that have been on my mind, things that I don't want to forget.

********

How about some more pictures from our recent trip?  That seems like a good place to start!

At the Children's Museum in Portsmouth, Tobin and I enjoyed some time in the play area for ages 3 and under; it was a perfect place for him to explore things at his level while Josiah was off exploring things at his level!  David went back and forth a few times between the two areas; but while he was with Tobin and I, he enjoyed rolling two balls down this slide to see which one would get to the bottom first.

Tobin enjoyed sitting at the bottom and watching the balls come down.
Tobin would pick up the balls and was usually quick to offer them back to David...
...but sometimes he would need to hold it and study it first...

...before letting it go, to wait with empty hands for the next time the balls rolled down to him.

Tobin also enjoyed standing by holding onto various low toys, just the right height for him.  Note: he did not get into a standing position by himself--he's not pulling up on stuff yet--but when I put him in that position, he loved it and was able to stand there by himself for quite a while.

********

A few weeks ago, Jeff and I sat down for a pow-wow with my parents.  During the three and a half years that we've lived here, we've only done this a handful of times; but all of us agree that open communication is essential to making our relationship great, especially when living in such close connection to each other.  I'm extremely grateful for parents who WELCOME input into their lives and want us to tell them if they're doing something that bothers us (and we want them to do the same to us).

The main issue during our last meeting was--are you ready for this?--the fact that my mother was helping me too much, and it was bothering me.  :)  After you're done laughing and snorting in derision at the thought of TOO MUCH help, let me assure you that if you haven't lived in a situation similar to ours, you probably won't get it.  But if you have lived close to extremely helpful and sacrificial parents, you might begin to understand how I was feeling, which was basically like a 3 year-old feels as his mommy tries to help him zip up his coat, but he stamps his foot and says he can do it HIMSELF.  As grateful as I was for the help and as much as I knew it came completely from a heart full of love for us, it still seemed out of balance.  I wasn't learning to stand on my own two feet, and Mother wasn't having the time she needed for other things.  Anyway, the conversation went great, and Mother has stopped helping me so much (yay!).  I'm learning to handle things as a homeschooling, homemaking mother of soon-to-be four without the training wheels of her help; and she is having time to do other things (like go to a morning of prayer today with a friend from church and...oh, yeah...lay in the hospital for a few days last week).  :)

Again, I don't know if that will make any sense to those not in this situation; but it makes sense to me.  

I continue to be immensely blessed by the support system of having her and Dad nearby.  That gives me such comfort as I know that I can call on them for help when needed.  What would I do without that?  

All of this came to my mind again when I was reading an article in the March 2009 issue of Baby Talk magazine that I picked up in the office the last time I visited the midwives.  In an article from the book The Middle Place by Kelly Corrigan, I read these words, written by the author about the time when her mother came to visit shortly after Kelly had had her first child.  "When my mom came out the next week, the days were much quieter.  Her goal was to do everything but breastfeed.  When Georgia was not nursing, she wanted me to go get a pedicure or take a walk or read my book.  But I was so proud of my baby and all the things I already knew about her--how she always had crud behind her ears or how she liked Desitin in the creases of her thighs.  I wanted my mom to applaud my expertise, but my mom just wanted to relieve me..."

I could relate to that completely.  My mom, remembering well the challenges of early motherhood with the constant demands of family and home and the impossibility of doing it all and doing it as well as we would like(!), simply wanted to help.  I, feeling like a young butterfly emerging from a cocoon, simply wanted her to stand back and watch and tell me how well I was flying...and pick me up if I fell down and cried.  :)

Now that I've had a few weeks to practice, I'm learning some new ways of doing things that I think will work well for this particular phase of life (which will last a few more months, and then we'll be into a new phase!).  With laundry, for example, I'm not as caught up as I would like to be; but I'm discovering that I can conquer the mountain little by little.  Here's the new routine that I'm starting to implement: put a load in the washing machine at night and let it run.  In the morning after I feed Tobin his breakfast, transfer it to the dryer.  By the time it finishes, Tobin is about ready for his morning nap; but he likes to sit on the floor of my bedroom for a little while longer and look at books or play with blocks while I straighten up my room and fold the load of laundry--and put it away.  I must put it away immediately when I fold laundry on my bed, rather than the guest room bed where the stacks can sit for days, undisturbed except by us occasionally grabbing a pair of socks or some jeans from the pile!  :)  After I'm done with this, I put Tobin in bed and then come downstairs to focus on Josiah and David (who usually enjoy very much this time of free play in the morning).  Since I'm still in the catching-up phase of laundry maintenance, I've been doing more than one load a day; but I'm excited about the idea of using this schedule (with flexibility, of course) to keep up with our laundry.  It's the little things in life that make me happy.  :)

With all of this, however, I realize that as the time approaches for me to give birth and particularly after The New Baby is born, I won't be able to soar with my schedule and do it all myself.  I'm so thankful that--Lord willing--my mother will be here to lend her hands and give me some extra help during that period of time! 

********

These days, it seems like everywhere I turn in the world of blogging, I'm reading about suffering.  A while back, it was the family of Cora, the 11 month-old who died rather suddenly from cancer (which I mentioned here).  More recently, I've read Sweet Caroline about Bonnie, who has a daughter named Caroline, of course, and who is pregnant again.  Her husband Thomas died in a car accident in January.  Eerily similar is Tara-Nator, about a pregnant woman with a young son whose husband unexpectedly died in a car accident.  Yesterday, I was gripped by the story of Jonah on the Williams Family Blog; he was born on February 27 with an extremely rare disease and is fighting an uphill battle for his very life.  And then there are the McKays: another young mother with a son and pregnant with a daughter, who just lost her husband after a very short illness (basically 10 days).  Tragic, all of it.  But each of these families has a deep faith in God which is sustaining them; and as I sit here and wish I could do more for them, all I can do is pray for God's comforting arms to be very real to them in the days to come.

When I read about sick children, my mind automatically asks, "What if that were one of my sons?"  When I hear of a husband dying suddenly, I remember all the millions of times I had thoughts of Jeff dying when we lived in Israel.  I don't think I'm exaggerating much when I say the possibility of him dying was an everyday thought to me; yet I realize that, even though we live in a different part of the world without the dangers specific to our Tel Aviv bus-riding lives, he still could die any day.  That fact hasn't changed, though I certainly don't think about it as much.  What I do, however, is feel a deeper gratitude for my husband and children every time I read someone's story of loss.  I hug them closer, listen more patiently to them, give them extra kisses, and thank God more fervently for each day we have together.

With these thoughts of suffering on my mind so much recently, I was particularly interested in an article in the November 2008 issue of The Voice of the Martyrs magazine (I'm obviously behind in magazine reading; that's why I was just now getting around to the Nov. 08 edition!).  It's an excerpt from Richard Wurmbrand's book The Overcomers.  Here is what he writes:

Even the best of Christians are troubled by the question, "Why does an almighty God send, or at least allow, suffering?"  When you are nagged by thoughts like this, say to yourself, "I am still in elementary school.  When I graduate from the university of Christian life, I will understand His ways better and doubts will cease."

We do not have the right notion of might, which to us means the power to crush, to subdue, to suppress, to punish.  There exists another might--it is the might to love, to be patient and quiet, to suffer innocently, and to be good to the wrongdoers.  When we think about energy, we think of it as kinetic, a quality that makes all things move.  But there exists the huge reservoir of potential energy, of energy at rest.  There exists the power of quietness, of serenity.

A Communist officer told a Christian while beating him, "I am almighty, as you suppose your God to be.  I can kill you."

The Christian answered, "The power is all on my side.  I can love you while you torture me to death."

Such is God's almightiness--it is reflected in the deep tranquility of the souls of saints.  They do not ask the troublesome question, "Why all the sorrow?"--they have learned to love the cross and to be rejected without comfort.  Once you take this attitude, the perplexity ceases.  What child is troubled when he receives a much desired gift?

********

Last for this very long post (and much less significant than the previous topic), I want to record some info about the header pics I've used so far this year.  When I print this blog off as a book, I want to remember what these headers looked like; and that wouldn't get captured in a blog book unless it was in the body of the blog, not the header or sidebars.  Anyway, just because it's important to me...  :)

The header for January was a picture I took of Jeff, Josiah, and David sledding on January 17, 2008, five days after Tobin was born.

~ background was Winter Theme-Snowflakes from The Background Fairy

February's header was a picture that my dad took of Dry River, a local river not too far from our house that occasionally has water in it!  We crossed it the other day, by the way, and it looked as dry as a bone.  Dad captured it on a pretty winter day (I forget which month and year) when the water was flowing.

~ background was Light Blue Toile from Simply Chic Blog Backgrounds

For this month's header, I used a photo that Jeff took in March of 2006 during his mother's first visit to our new home in Virginia.  Jeff took this on a Sunday morning when we drove the back way to our church service, just so we could see the buggies and show off this part of our local culture to his mother.

~ background is Sassy Dots from The Cutest Blog on the Block

I need to start thinking about what the header for April (my favorite month!) will be!  :)

Mother in the Hospital, Boys in the Bathtub

I awoke this morning with a deep sense of doom, brought on by the extremely vivid dream I had just had about watching an airplane crash. In my dream, the crash happened where route 33 and Switchboard Road intersect; and the van I was traveling in with quite a few other people was heading east on 33, watching this enormous plane crash just to our left. It was headed to the country of Jordan; and oddly, all the passengers in my van (including myself) were driving to the airport to get on a flight to Russia, I believe. We don't normally have many international flights around here, but anything's possible in a dream. As we watched, this huge plane appeared to be stopped in the air; and as I wondered, "Can it DO that and stay up?", the answer was revealed as it crashed towards earth, tail first. There's nothing quite like watching someone die, if only in a dream, to set the mood for a new morning.

I wasn't a bit surprised to look out the window and see my parents' car gone. Usually at that time of day, Mom and Dad are sitting around their table, eating their breakfast of Cheerios, before Dad walks over to his office for another day of treating patients. But today, I thought with no sense of shock, "Well, Mom must be at the hospital."

Yesterday morning, she woke up with "intestinal disturbances," brought on by some sort of passing virus, we thought. Nothing serious. I wasn't worried about her.

Today, as I've found out later through phone calls from my dad, she woke up with severe upper abdominal pain so Dad decided the hospital was the best place for her; and he was planning to take her there himself until her blood pressure dropped, and he realized an ambulance ride was just what she needed. (Didn't I just mention how grateful I am for the rescue personnel in this town?) So off they went, Mom in the rescue squad, Dad in the car.

Despite my sense of doom that lingers, I'm still not really worried about her. She's having some blood tests done, and will have a CT scan in a little while. Dad thought it might be a gallbladder problem at first; but last I talked to him, he mentioned pancreatitis. In any case, they (nurses, doctors, Dad) are taking good care of her, and God's protecting arms stretch all the way into the corridors and rooms of RMH!

I'm sure Dad's cell phone will start ringing as my aunts read this blog and call to check in. For once, I became the "herald" of news--my dad's usual role!

To lighten the mood, I'm going to post a series of silly pictures. Jeff snapped these a week or two ago when I was gone one evening and he had all the boys in the bathtub. I'm not sure why Josiah had his hand up by his eye the whole time, but the part that makes me laugh every time I look at it is the way Tobin notices those funny things on David's face, then reaches out to grab the goggles. You've got to be careful when you're in range of Tobin's arms. You just might find your glasses yanked off your face, or your necklace bathing in the saliva of his mouth, or your teeth examined as his fingers pry your mouth open, or even your nose picked! :)

A merry heart doeth good like a medicine... - Proverbs 17:22

When Quiet Time Becomes QUIET Time

One of the aspects of our daily routine that makes my life much easier is our habit of 2-hour afternoon quiet time for Josiah and David. Yes, two hours. I know some families with this tradition get by with only one hour; but my boys don't know that yet, and I plan to keep this part of our routine until...oh, I don't know, they go off to college or something! ;)

It really is a valuable time, and not just for me! Since the boys get so much time together, I can see that it's healthy for them to have that time apart (one of them in the boys' bedroom and one in the guest room); and usually by the end of quiet time, they are ready to come together again and play happily, often choosing an activity that one or the other of them was thinking about during quiet time.

Tobin, of course, still naps every afternoon; but sometimes if he's not quite ready for his nap, I'll get him set up in the bouncy seat in the doorway of one of the rooms so he can watch one or the other of his big brothers. Then, after a while, I carry him off to his room, after he gets a hug and a kiss from both Josiah and David, and tuck him in his crib.

Occasionally, if one of the "big" boys is sick, or has been unusually tired and grumpy in the morning, or is going to stay up late that night for whatever reason, I have him take a nap. But unless there are special circumstances, they do just fine with quiet time...and it sure makes it easier for them to go to sleep in the evening when they haven't napped during the daytime.

During quiet time, they play with toys, look at books, draw pictures, etc. And sometimes, even when I don't plan on them napping, they fall fast asleep.

Like Josiah did on the guest bed one day last week...
Like David did in Josiah's bed yesterday...

And like Josiah did yesterday in Tobin's bouncy seat in the upstairs hall...

I can't imagine that he was very comfortable in that, but he slept that way for quite a while!

When things get very quiet upstairs, I usually tiptoe up to see where everyone is. I never get tired of watching my boys sleep. I'll definitely be the kind of mother who still creeps into her 15 year-old son's room in the middle of the night to pull up the covers and give him an extra kiss. :)

********

On another, much more serious note, I was reading this blog last night of a family in Kansas whose 11 month-old daughter Cora recently died of cancer. They only discovered that she had cancer about 3 weeks before she moved on to heaven and the comforting arms of Jesus. Three weeks is not long, not very long at all. As parents, how would you ever prepare your heart in such a short time? If you have a few moments and need a wake-up call to love your own children more tenderly and patiently today, I highly recommend reading about Cora. And please, say a prayer for her family. Their faith in God and the support system they have around them is sustaining them, but I can only imagine that such grief is far beyond words.

What I Was Going to Say...

All day, I have had a number of thoughts float through my head about what I would write tonight. I knew I wanted to do my 30 Days Thankful post for the day; and I had a number of other, random things that I wanted to share as well. All of that changed in an instant though when we received a shocking email tonight from dear friends of ours in Tel Aviv, Yacov and Natasha, the couple to whom we transferred pastoral leadership of the congregation of which we were a part when the time came for us to leave Israel. After reading the email, what I was going to say suddenly became almost meaningless as my perspective shifted from the temporal to the eternal.

This email is from Yacov, and I'm going to post an unedited version of it. Yacov's first language is Russian; and besides that, he knows Hebrew and English (and maybe another language?)...interestingly, none of those languages share a common alphabet. So as you can imagine, his English grammar and spelling are a little rough; but I think the message comes through loud and clear. He writes...

1 Peter 5

8 Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.

9Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings.

Yesterday i came back home after meeting in Beitlacham. It was about 11 at night and I stared shere with my wife about the church there. At the meting we discus about sufferings, that they will come anyway and throe them we can be more united and more focus on God. Later on i go to bad and at 3 o'clock at the night i woke up. I sow fire i the hall , i called my wife and tried to put out the fire. It grouse more and more , than i fold and hurt may self at that moment i realised that we need to leave apartment as soon as possible. I screamed to Natasha to take a Little one and get out of app. In same moment i run to Ron's room but because of smoke i couldn't see my sun. To the touch i found him and took him away.Out side we sated all most naked and barefoot, we observed haw to burn down our home. We are weary [very--my note] glad to God for what happen course it is shows that we never now when we go to haven - Be ALERT. We are weary glad to God for what happen course it is united all church. We are weary glad for brothers and sister love and care. Please prey for us , just get a new home .With our love , Jukovski's family

Along with the email, he sent these pictures...

I cannot imagine what Yacov and Natasha (and their children Ron and Nichol) are experiencing right now. If my heart hurts--and it does...if my stomach feels sick--and it does...what must this be like for them?

A flood of memories has been rushing through my mind in the few hours since I first read their horrible news--sweet memories of pleasant times together, encouraging memories of their incredible faith, funny memories of relating to each other across cultural boundaries. Both Yacov and Natasha have hearts of gold...I can't say enough good things about them. They are a treasure to all those who know them.

I had to go back through my picture archives and find some photos of Yacov and Natasha from 2005, our last year in Israel. (And, by the way, I've mentioned them in this blog before: here and here.)

~ in yesterday's post about the quilt, the picture of our bed showed a heart-shaped pillow on it...that pillow was made by Natasha and given to me on my 29th birthday which we celebrated together in Tel Aviv...when we left Israel, that was one of the things that I KNEW we would take with us...it is an everyday reminder of our friendship since I can't help but think of her when I make my bed!
~ Natasha holding David when he was 10 days old
~ Natasha and my mother during a Pesach (Passover) celebration in Jerusalem, April 2005
~ Natasha holding David again, this time when he was a month and a half old
~ Yacov holding David...Yacov has the heart of a shepherd...he's a caring father for those in his physical family and his spiritual family
~ Natasha holding David again!...she snatched him every chance she got, it seems :)
~ we spent our very last evening in Israel with Yacov and Natasha and their son Ron...it was a hot July night, full of emotions of excitement for our future and sorrow at our parting...I'm so glad we spent it with them
~ Ron & Josiah playing together that night
~ this last picture was taken in October 2006 when Yacov had the opportunity to come to Virginia Beach for a conference...we drove 4 hours there and 4 hours back in the same day, just to have the chance to spend a few hours with him...we would do it again in a heartbeat...their friendship is so worth it

It feels a little strange to be doing a 30 Days Thankful post in light of what the Jukovsky family is going through; and yet, I am grateful. So here are a few things for which I give thanks today.

Day 3 - for the privilege of knowing Yacov and Natasha and calling them friends...for God's hand of protection on them...for His overwhelmingly good gift of sparing their lives and the lives of their precious children...for the inspiring and astounding response that sprang immediately from Yacov and Natasha (in the email, Yacov writes several times, "We are very glad to God" -- you are? wow!)...for the eternal perspective that Yacov shares, the reminder to be alert because we never know when we'll go to heaven

To those who read my blog...when you think of them in the days to come, would you please pray for Yacov and Natasha? Despite their faith, this has got to be extremely difficult for them. May all their needs be met, may their hearts be comforted, may their children be protected from the emotional trauma of the fire, and may God use this to, in some way, be glorified and draw many to Himself.

Bits and Pieces

I don't know what's wrong with me.

I find myself in such a slump--not only with blogging, but also in most areas of life. Probably the best two areas right now are my devotional life and my relationship with Jeff...and those are the most important...but why does everything else feel so blah? I'm tired. Even this morning, after a pretty good night's sleep, I was so sleepy that after reading some school stuff to Josiah and David, I had to tell them that they could have a break (oh, they love that) and I was going to sleep on the couch for 15 minutes. Well, the 15 minutes stretched into 45...they didn't seem to mind. :) But more than physical fatigue, I simply find myself unmotivated--not happy with how household things are going right now, but not finding the time or energy or motivation to change them. And I really don't want anyone else coming in to "fix" it for me. I want to get back to my old self so that I can do it...or even more, I want to grow and become a new self who can do it even better--myself! Sigh...

Anyway, a few huge topics (the NYC trip, for example) are hovering around my head that I don't want to let get away before I capture them through blogging. For now, however, all I can do is jot down bits and pieces of recent events.

********

Yesterday, a very mysterious thing occurred around here. I had gotten two pounds of hamburger (in two separate packages...that's important in the story) out of the freezer to thaw for supper. I had put them in the draining rack in the sink; but while I was with Josiah at his swimming lesson, my mother realized that they wouldn't be thawed in time for supper so she moved them out to the picnic table so they could get the sun and breeze on them--a very reasonable thing to do. When she checked on them later, however, there was only one package left. Hmmmm...where could the other one be?

Option A: she moved it and forgot about it.
~ I don't think so. None of us could find it anywhere we looked, and besides, why would she just move one of the packages?

Option B: a person came by and took it.
~ Not likely at all. Nobody just "walks by" our house, and again, why would they just take one package?

Option C: a hawk swooped down and carried it off.
~ Maybe.

Option D: an animal climbed up on the picnic table and grabbed it.
~ We're thinking this is the most likely scenario, particularly since just the evening before, I had seen an opossum in the yard when I was taking some scraps out to the compost pile after dark. I wasn't sure an opossum could get up on the picnic table, but Jeff assured me one could...and he thinks it's highly probable that it was our culprit.

So, Jeff set a live trap to see if he could catch the critter. When I looked out on the patio this morning, we had indeed caught something--Smoky, our neighbor's cat.

********

About a week and a half ago, our community was saddened by the tragic death of a man who was using his tractor to clear a path and prepare an outdoor campfire for a retreat to be held that evening on top of Mole Hill. Jeff and I did not know Lowell personally, but he was one of my dad's patients, and a number of people that we know knew him. Farming accidents seem to have a particular punch-to-the-gut effect in this community.

On Sunday afternoon, as we were driving home, Jeff looked up at Mole Hill and asked me if I had ever been to the top. "No," I said. He asked, "Why not?" Ummm...maybe because I never thought about going? Why would anyone want to climb Mole Hill anyway? :) Jeff, being a man who likes to climb things just because they're there--that's why I married him ;), decided to set off that very afternoon with Josiah to enjoy the lovely early fall weather and conquer a "mountain" that he's always wanted to climb. So off they went...

They didn't really know how to get to the top, so they parked the Jeep off Mole Hill Road and started climbing. Sure enough, they reached the "summit" and then they found the fire ring with the wood stacked neatly, ready for the campfire retreat that never happened. They discovered a number of people from the community, particularly Old Order Mennonites, who had come to, in a way, pay their respects to Lowell. Jeff spontaneously asked the group if he could read a psalm; of course, they agreed, so he read Psalm 42, then led in a silent prayer. Even though I've never had an overwhelming urge to climb Mole Hill, I do wish I had been there for that.

From that point, Jeff and Josiah discovered the trail running down the other side of the "mount," so they followed it and passed by the site of the accident, with the tractor still lying haphazardly on its side where it had rolled. At the bottom of the trail which emptied on the opposite side of the hill from where they parked, they were fortunate enough to get a ride back to the Jeep from someone who knows Jeff from the barbershop (and who has known my family for years). It turned out to be a great father/son outing, and a moving experience all at the same time.

~ "land that I love" - as they begin the ascent, the beautiful rolling farmlands of this part of the county stretch out behind Josiah
~ with no trail on the way up, the going was a little tough...not too bad though for my wild man Josiah :)

~ the tractor: a sobering reminder of the fragility of life...in an instant, everything can be changed
~ ah, a path for the way down! :)

********

On a more upbeat note, Jeff and I had the opportunity to go out to see a late movie while his mom was visiting. She was willing to stay with the boys who were all in bed, and we went to a 10:00 movie. I can't remember the last time I went to a movie that late. :)

We saw Fireproof, and I can't recommend it highly enough! It was the perfect date night movie.

********

Nothing good lasts forever, especially when the item in question is a sleeper passed down through three sons. Here is Tobin this morning...such a happy face...

...but look! What's peeking out of his sleeper? My goodness, it's his toe! That's not supposed to happen!
I remembered that my brother David and his wife Lori had given that sleeper to us when Josiah was a baby, and of course, I had to dig out a photo of Josiah wearing it. The picture below shows Josiah and I in late 2002 when the sleeper was new.
I guess maybe it's time to retire it. :)

********

While reading Blessed by Baseballs and Bows recently, I saw this post about a boy in China who desperately needs a family. Jeanette, the author of the post, asked for others to please pass on his story so that prayers will reach heaven on his behalf and maybe--just maybe--his forever family will find him before he becomes unavailable for adoption because of his age. If you have a moment, click over to her blog and see his picture and read his story.

Linking to her post is the least I can do...I only wish I could do so much more.

Three Months

It's official: Tobin is one-quarter of a year old.

When we weighed and measured him yesterday, he was 12 pounds, 11 ounces, and 24 and 1/2 inches long. I've yet to mark that in his baby book and plot his growth on the growth charts I've pasted there, but I have a feeling that he will fall fairly close to the middle of average.

Tobin continues to reap lots of compliments about what a sweet baby he is...and, from the nursery workers at our church, about what an easy little fellow he is. One of the women today, who took care of him for the first time, said when I picked him up, "If all babies were this easy, it would be great!" :)

Tobin's most communicative time recently has been when he's on the changing table in his room. That is when he almost always looks directly at me, smiles, and "talks." We have honest-to-goodness back-and-forth conversations with each other. I speak English, and he speaks babble...but that doesn't stop us from connecting! It's one of my favorite things these days (and makes me actually look forward to changing his diaper!). I treasure those times.

Within the past day or so, I happened to pay attention to a picture in the boys' room of Josiah when he was about a month and a half old. It reminded me so much of Tobin that I had to do a double take. I think our babies all have a certain look that is very similar to each other; and then as they get older, they develop a much more individual look. Beyond that, I still can't figure out who Tobin looks like! :)

Tobin isn't bald yet, but he is beginning to lose his hair. He's got very dry skin on his scalp and face; and when I comb through his hair to remove the flakes, pieces of hair fall out, too. Based on our other boys, I wouldn't be at all surprised if he lost all his hair...and then new hair in a completely different color grew in. We shall see...

Speaking of dry scalp, anybody have any good suggestions for how to deal with it? I thought it was a temporary condition, so I massaged some baby oil into it and then combed through it, thinking that after a time or two of that, the problem would be solved. I removed LOTS of dry skin, but voila, more appeared. And keeps appearing. What to do?

Even as I mention that, I realize that is NOTHING to worry about. Just this afternoon, I read about one of my blogging friends needing to take her baby Callie to the hospital. It hit very close to home because Callie was born shortly after Tobin was, so it was easy to imagine myself in her mama Crystal's shoes. I say "easy," but honestly, I can't imagine what they're going through. It hits my heart, brings tears to my eyes, and makes me cry out to God for them. For others of you reading this, please pray for them as well.

~ wearing a cute, snuggly, so-soft, bunny outfit from his Uncle David and Aunt Lori
~ with a huge grin...after my earlier wailings about "he doesn't smile!", you can imagine how filled with joy I am when I see him with such a happy face
~ time to do a little chewing...this has been near the top of his to-do list recently: chew on fist...interestingly enough, he chews on his right fist and sucks his left thumb...I've never seen him do the opposite

Doing Good

I was reading Titus 2 today and found these words:

...the blessed hope—the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good.

It seemed very appropriate to be reading about "the blessed hope" since Easter is drawing near. But what really caught my attention was the last phrase: "eager to do what is good." Those words, combined with my recent thoughts on how much we have and how abundantly we are blessed, reminded me that I've been wanting to write a post about one way that Jeff is making a difference in the lives of those with challenges in their life that we have never dealt with and, really, have no understanding about.

Pictured below are two boys that Jeff knows through the barbershop: Caleb and Brennan. They both have muscular dystrophy and deal continually with all the hardships that come from that. But look at those smiles! Jeff is participating in a fundraiser for the Muscular Dystrophy Association where he gets "locked-up" for a while. But these boys are constantly "locked" in bodies that don't function like ours.

I'm so proud of Jeff for wanting to help them and other kids with this disease. If any of you feel particularly compelled to help him with his fundraiser and donate to MDA, there is a link in the sidebar of this blog that you can use to do it. It will take you to a secure online site. I know requests for financial help constantly barrage all of us, and I don't want anyone at all to feel undue pressure about this. In matters like these, you've got to do as the Spirit leads! But I did want to highlight Jeff's participation in this because I'm just so stinkin' proud of him and his heart for others!!! :)

A Verse for Tobin

Shortly after Tobin was born, I read--with new eyes--these verses from Psalm 22:

Yet you brought me safely from my mother’s womb
and led me to trust you at my mother’s breast.
I was thrust into your arms at my birth.
You have been my God from the moment I was born.

I actually "found" this as I was looking through Tobin's baby book (which I love), and these words stood out to me as if they were written in flashing neon lights. I was actually surprised by them because when I think of Psalm 22, I think of the way it begins: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" And I remember Jesus quoting it as He died on the cross. So I wasn't really expecting to discover an inspiring verse for my newborn son in this particular psalm!

But, wow, what powerful, uplifting thoughts! To be "thrust into [God's] arms at birth"! I love that imagery. I believe with all my heart that it was God who brought Tobin safely from my womb (especially this week as friends of ours lost their 3rd son at 20 weeks of pregnancy and my heart has grieved for them, I've been reminded of God's hand in Tobin's life...it could have been us that lost our son, and it hits very close to home).

My prayer is that someday, Tobin himself will say with full confidence and unending gratitude: "You led me to trust you at my mother's breast. You have been my God from the moment I was born!"

Lessons in Generosity

One of the traditions we seem to be developing as a family is packing shoeboxes for Samaritan Purse's Christmas outreach every year. The boys and I had fun yesterday going to buy the gifts, and this morning our project was actually packing the boxes. It's been really interesting to see how Josiah and David respond to this. David, of course, is still at the stage of "I see a toy and I want it and I have no concept of children in other countries having far less than I do." But Josiah is "getting it."

One thing we did a few days ago in preparation for this was read the book Miracle in a Shoebox by Franklin Graham. It is one of those books that I can't get through without crying--absolutely cannot do it. I almost didn't want to read the book this time because I knew what was coming--I even know what page is going to make me cry--but I also know that it is a vitally important lesson for my children to learn how blessed we are and how crucial it is for us to do our part to help, though it may seem small. Anyway, while we were reading it, I indeed started crying...turned the page and had no voice to continue reading...Josiah looked at me curiously to figure out why the delay...he saw I was crying and wanted to know if it was happy crying or sad crying...then he helpfully offered to go get a tissue for me, which I gratefully accepted. Finally I choked my way through the rest of the story, then had Josiah take the book over to our neighbors who are also packing shoeboxes for this project. I'm eager to ask Wilma whether she's read the book to her girls and, if so, did she make it through without crying??? :)

~ my good helpers -- I'm proud of them!

For a Good Cause

As many of you know, I am THE WORST when it comes to forwarding emails, even ones for a good cause. Recently however, I received this email; and being a slightly suspicious person when it comes to "press a button and--presto!--money appears!" emails, I researched it. According to snopes.com, it is completely legitimate, and so I thought it worthwhile to put a link here. For what it's worth, an easy way to make a difference...

Here is the text from the email I received:

The Breast Cancer site is having trouble getting enough people to click on their site daily to meet their quota of donating at least one free mammogram a day to an underprivileged woman. (I don't think this part is quite accurate, but the point is true.) It takes less than a minute to go to their site and click on 'donating a mammogram' for free (pink window in the middle). This doesn't cost you a thing. Their corporate sponsors/advertisers use the number of daily visits to donate mammograms in exchange for advertising. Here's the web site! Pass it along to people you know.
http://www.thebreastcancersite.com/
http://www.snopes.com/inboxer/charity/mammogram.asp

Another Tragedy, Another Wake-up Call

Once again, after reading this story, I am filled with unspeakable sadness. It seems that every so often, some tragedy happens that knocks me off my feet for a while. Of course, tragedies happen every day, every hour, every second. But only occasionally do they come so close as to cast noticeable ripples into the smooth pool of my life. This story did that.


I did not know the Showalter family personally, but my dad has been the long-time family doctor (which, in this kind of town, usually equals "friend") of Scott Showalter's parents. In fact, Dad delivered Scott 34 years ago.

These things make this particular tragedy hit my heart deeply:
~ personally knowing dairy farmers and thinking, "It could have happened to any of them"
~ our neighbors and good friends Douglas and Wilma being in the Mennonite community and knowing the Showalters (and their families) personally
~ visualizing the little country lane where Scott's wife's parents live, and imagining their grief at losing a daughter, son-in-law, and two grandchild at the same time
~ having children close in age to the two surviving children in the family, and thinking about how my boys would respond if something were to happen to Jeff and I...the thought of the 6 year-old daughter having to live life with this experience permanently embedded in her mind and heart makes me want to cry

I KNOW that God brings healing...and I know He works all things for good...and I know His ways are higher than our ways...and I know the deep faith and trust of the Mennonites. But seen from our earthly vantage point, it still is so sad.

Last night as I knelt between Josiah and David's beds as I tucked them in for the night, I once again could not believe how overwhelmingly blessed I am. As we named our family members in prayer, the awareness of how quickly life can change and loved ones can be taken made my routine "thank You, God, for Daddy...thank You for Josiah...thank You for David...thank You for our baby...thank You for..." amazingly fervent.

As I continue to remember and pray for the families and friends involved in this situation, I see my gratefulness for the blessings in my life increase. I need wake-up calls like this every so often, but I sure wish it didn't take such a horrible accident to remind me of this.

Heartwarmer, Tearjerker

http://www.ignitermedia.com/products/iv/singles/570/99-Balloons

My friend Christin sent me this link tonight with a promise that I WOULD cry as I watched it. Was she ever right! Wow, this is powerful. The next time I find myself lacking appreciation for my children, I hope I remember this...and pause to hug them, kiss them, love them, and whisper once again a heartfelt thank you to God for them.

Need a Good Cry?

Through a comment on someone else's blog, I heard about a website (http://www.nowilaymedowntosleep.com/) that specializes in infant bereavement photography to preserve memories for families who have lost babies through pre-term labor or other difficulties. I just visited that site for the first time and--oh my goodness--I could not even look at it for more than a few minutes without breaking down and weeping, much less read the personal stories of loss. So I stopped looking at it! But what a wonderful service it is. I'd never heard of it before; but apparently, it is a group of photographers in different cities who provide their services to bereaved parents, even if the parents can't pay. I was amazed and touched by how sensitively the babies were portrayed, even if they were not nearly full-term and thus lacked the basic development that we associate with newborns. I cannot imagine the pain of going through such a loss. Our own miscarriage was hard enough, and it was so early on in the pregnancy! To have felt a child move, to have seen the heartbeat through an ultrasound, to have known whether it was a boy or a girl...and then to lose it...I simply cannot imagine. A lady that we know is likely headed for this situation, and I am taking some dinner to her tomorrow--such a small way to help--I wish I could do more. She is 5 months pregnant, but major health complications and pre-term labor make it unlikely that the baby will survive. I pray so fervently that God's perfect will be done and that His comforting love and sustaining grace cover this family and draw them to Him.

Gil Colman's Blog

For anyone interested in more info about Gil Colman who was shot on Monday at Virginia Tech, here is a blog set up for updates about him -- colmanfamilyupdates.blogspot.com. His gripping story is told in detail in the first post on that site.

Virginia Tech Shooting Article

http://www.dnronline.com/search_details.php?AID=9816&CHID=1&key=guillermo%20colman&title=&author=&channelid=

This article is from our local paper; and it tells the amazing story of Guillermo Colman, the man who lived with my family back in 1990 and who was shot yesterday at Virginia Tech.

Perspective

As I mentioned earlier, I had lots of time to think in the middle of the night because of Josiah's illness. While carrying vomit-laden sheets and blankets down the steps to our laundry room around 3:00 a.m., I thought, "I sure wish life would slow down a little bit. When am I ever going to get caught up? When am I ever going to get some rest???" And then I realized that sometimes life does slow down--drastically--like it did for our friend Bob in the hospital in Winchester or our friend Gil in the hospital in Blacksburg.

For Bob, a heart blockage nearly ended his life; and now things have slowed down to a crawl for him and Cindy, with one focus--getting him well. I can imagine Cindy sitting beside Bob and thinking, "Just breathe. Just take the next breath and the next and the next." And for a time, that's all that matters in life.

Gil is a man from Uruguay who lived with my family back in 1990 when he arrived in this country. Because my dad knows Spanish, our household was a good place for Gil to begin his adjustment to life in the USA. Now Gil is a grad student at Virginia Tech, finishing up his master's degree in engineering. Yesterday, Gil was one of the students shot in the horrific events that have been broadcast all over the globe. Because of God's grace, he survived! But for him, like Bob, life and time instantly slowed down to a crawl with a singular focus.

So often, we measure time in weeks or months or years. Occasionally, we measure them in moments--one breath to the next--like Bob, like Gil, like I do when I lie in bed beside my sick child. But I can't forget that for so many people yesterday, life didn't just slow down; it stopped.

How fortunate I am to have vomit-covered sheets to wash! How blessed I am to have a safe, living, breathing child under my roof tonight! As I laid beside Josiah last night, I watched his chest rise and fall with each breath, I saw his hands like little starfish holding his teddy bear, I noticed how his closed eyes look like little half moons, and then I couldn't tear my eyes away from his eyelashes curling gracefully, brushing his cheek. Is there anything more beautiful than the eyelashes of a sleeping child--my sleeping child?

And so, time slowed for me--finally--after Josiah had been soothed, after the trash bag with throw-up in it had been taken down to the garage, after the washer and dryer had started spinning their way to cleanliness, after the dirty teddy bear had been put in the laundry and a second one found--and I lay there counting time by moments and feeling overwhelming gratitude.