There was a crane here yesterday, and the construction crew lifted the walls and roof of the garage in place.  I invited my friend Kathy over, she has 4 children, so that they could watch with us.  I took plenty of pictures but I’ll have to post them some other day.

After a while, Kathy and I went back in the house.  She was sitting in Rich’s recliner, reading, and I was in the kitchen.  I happened to glance out the window just in time to see Davy-do climbing up on the porch railing with Rich’s big blue and white umbrella, which was open.  “DON’T EVEN TELL ME” I said, and Kathy and I ran out to the porch just in time to watch David leap from the railing and to the ground below.  I wasn’t fearing for his life, but I was afraid he would land wrong.  Imagine if you had David standing straight and tall, and other David standing on his shoulders. . .that would be the height that he jumped.  The thing was, he didn’t even hesitate!  He jumped, landed in a shrub, and got up absolutely thrilled with himself.  I asked him what he would have done if he had a stick go in his bottom, he looked at me like I was crazy.  Of course that would not happen to HIM.  He mentioned trying to jump from the landing in the house, which is a much greater distance. . . .I said to him, “no way”. .with fear in my heart, what WILL this boy do next?

Then, later in the day, he found a small gingerbread man cookie cutter.  Do you know the story of the Gingerbread boy?  A little old woman bakes him in the oven, and when she takes him out he jumps down and runs away.  The whole story is about the various animals that he runs away from. . and he eventually is consumed by a fox.  David LOVES that story and when he found the cookie cutter he simply HAD to make gingerbread men for himself.  I wasn’t able to make him any dough so he took matters into his own hands.  He found some tortilla wraps from the bread drawer and sat on the kitchen floor.  He placed the cookie cutter on the wrap and then get up and STOMP STOMP STOMP until he got it through the **tough** tortilla wrap.  He had to wear his sandels in order to do that.  He managed to make about 5 of them and then I promised that I would make him dough. . “in the morning”. . . .

So, right now, he is sitting cross-legged on the kitchen table, carefully and quietly decorating his gingerbread men with sprinkles.  Yes, Davy and I mixed up a giant fiesta bowl of sugar cookie dough and the kids each cut out one tray of cookies (we will save the rest of the dough for another day). 

David will be the type of man who just has to take risks in order to feel alive.  He will probably climb mountains, fly airplanes, and hang-glide.  And I’ll have to let him.  That’s the scary part!  In the meantime, while he is only five, I have to try to keep him from maiming himself with his “ideas”. . . . . .

David, when he was three.

He’s like trying to keep track of. . .I don’t know. . something slippery.  You think you have a hold on him, and the next thing you know, he’s gone and you’re looking for him.  If we go for a walk, I have to keep my eye on him the whole time or he leaves and sneaks back to the house.  He’s the kind of boy that drives you crazy, but when he looks at you with all that fun and charm shining in his eyes, you just can’t help but give him a squeeze.

Every night, when I tuck him into bed, he talks my ear off ~and the things he says to me shock me into laughter.  He had to tell me all about his poopie yesterday.  I’m sorry, I won’t get into details, but he sure did (go into details, that is).  He ended up pausing dramatically at the end of his monologue and saying soberly, “Mom.  I think I’m SICK.”  I thought I was, too, but I didn’t tell him that.  I just said, “Yes, you probably are.  We better get you to bed right away.”  LOL

So, I just now got up to help him get a drink of milk and he gave me a big hug.  (He loves to hug me)  I squealed and said, “I’ll tell you what, you are COVERED in flour!!”  “That’s because I’m going to be a baker when I grow up” he said.  Boy, he sure is proud of his cookies.  He’s going to just eat one, and save the rest for a party.

“I sure was a busy baker!” he sighed, brushing the flour of his clothes, all content-like.

These pictures were all taken last week.  The rainbows appeared last Thursday or Friday, I can’t remember exactly. 

I haven’t been able to blog much this week because I have not been my normal self.  There are several reasons for this:

1.  Rich has been away on a 3 day business trip.  I’m not myself when he’s out of town.  He will be back tonight.

2.  I’m PREGNANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I’m not my normal self when I am pregnant (who is?).  I am so very happy but I am also in that weepy and exhausted stage.  I’m not exactly crying over everything, but my emotions are pretty wild at the moment.  Rich told the kids Monday night at the dinner table and they are all so happy.  My four boys all want another brother, and Grace insists it WILL be a girl.  My due date is Feb. 12, my own birthday~The children and I are all trying to come up with the perfect names (needs 5 letters and be from the Bible) but Rich would rather make conversation about what 8-passenger vehicle we should buy.  Is that funny, or what?

3.  On Monday, during my first prenatal appointment, my doctor “found something” she wanted further testing on.  I’m not myself when I think there might something wrong with me!  I have been a nervous wreck waiting for that appointment.  Yes, I have faith that God has me in his hands and that He knows what is best for me, but that still didn’t keep me from walking around like a zombie, praying constantly and crying now and then. . .. . ..now, for the good news. . . .my test was yesterday and it came back clear and fine.  God was merciful to me, I did not have to wait for the results, I was told right in the office that all is well.  My sister was with me, and she was the rock I needed to get through the whole experience.  After my appointment we went downtown for ice cream sundaes and at them outside at the picnic tables, laughing and talking like only sisters can do.   

To the very few people that I told about all this~ THANK YOU~ for lifting me up in prayer.  My joy in the Lord is full and overwhelming at the moment.  The other day I was weak from worry, today I am weak with relief.  Sinking down on my knees in weakness has been a comfort to me~as I prayed to my Father above.  I have felt with certainty His pity and mercy these past few days. 

“I will praise thee O Lord my God, with all my heart:  and I will glorify thy name forevermore.  For great is thy mercy toward me.”

Psalm 86:12,13a

Having construction workers here during the day has been so good for us.  I sit here and laugh, thinking about my children, they are SO friendly and nice to people.  When I was their age you couldn’t get me to say BOO to a stranger, but Jacob, Ethan, Grace, and David do not have a shy bone in their body and enjoy talking to the workers, and serving them cold soda, or cookies and milk.  Everything in me wants to keep the kids away from the guys, afraid that they will get in the way and bother them, but I forced myself to let go of that temptation to control and as a result, we are actually making friends!

I have found Davy-do, sitting cross legged in the midst of busy men, talking away, oblivious that no one can even hear what he’s saying.

I have found the boys showing their latest catch~a frog, a fish, a turtle~to the men.  They confidently assume the guys will want to see, and they do!  I’m convinced that there is a lot of little boy left in a grown man.

I have found Grace, swinging in the porch swing, talking and laughing with one of the men as he took a break.  She’s a doll.  I have also found her riding with Jeff as he worked on the escavator.

I have found Jeff patiently taking a time out to explain to David why he can not run across the wet concrete of the garage floor.  “Why’s HE doing it?” was David’s response.

Jeff told Rich, “You have really great kids”.  I wonder how many times these men work at homes where the children and mother are gone. . . . .no sign of life.  It’s not like that here.  There are five children about the place, and a mama who is in and out of the house, constantly keeping an eye on her young ones.  Sometimes she yells, sometimes she has a little boy on her shoulders.  But, there is love and real life here and I think these guys can sense it.  We are a family. 

We are learning from them.  Sure, they aren’t ALL friendly, but there is Jeff~and his younger co-worker, John, who are as friendly as can be and have been here almost every day.  They are real men of the earth, they spend their working hours moving dirt, using big loud heavy equipment, and are as humble as can be.  We respect their work, and hope that their honest labor makes a lasting impression on our children. 

“The man who stays close to the dirt tends to stay close to reality.  There’s something to farming, logging, or ditch digging that keeps his thoughts down to earth. . . . .There are benefits in staying close to the dirt. . . . . . God could have made man out of anything, but for some reason He picked dust.  ‘God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.’ (Gen. 2:7).  The only difference between a man and dust is the breath of God.  The man who sees himself on the same level as dirt, were it not for the breath of God, has a healthy opinion of himself.”  ~Bob Schultz, in Created for Work

Because of one small conversation yesterday, I now have a label.

Jacob received a letter yesterday from a friend and found it addressed to the “general”, it contained “top secret” info. and only the generals of the family (assuming, Jacob and Ethan) could read it.

Mom:  “Well, I guess I can’t read that!”. . .”oh, wait, I am a general!”

Jacob, still reading his letter, “I thought you were the camp cook!”

Mom:  heart overflows with laughter, “Ha, Ha, Ha”

So, I’ve been thinking about this.  What Jacob said was true.  In the “battle-field of life” I am a camp cook.  (You might throw in “bottle washer”, as well.)  I could never be comfortable as a General.  I would not enjoy that position.  In my family, the General would be my husband.  You can find me in the kitchen.  Cooking.  Scrubbing.  And I’ll be whistling as I work, because I love what I do, and am happy with my role. 

Cookies, anyone?  They’re homemade, and warm from the oven.

General-holding superior rank or taking precedence over others similarly titled

Camp Cook- a person who prepares food for eating, to persons encamped

Well, today was somewhat of a struggle for me.  I found myself preoccupied with unpleasant thoughts and being snappy at the children.  I had a wonderful time of prayer and Bible reading, however, which did much to warm and melt my heart.  More and more I find that my hope, my trust, my security is in Christ alone.  I thank God for my Bible, in which I can find words that never hurt me or disappoint me.

My friend Kathy called as I was finishing up my reading, and I wandered out onto the porch to talk to her.  What to my wondering eyes did appear, but a bald eagle sitting majestically in a dead tree on our property!

God has revealed His glory to me so obviously through His creation.  My heart bows down and worships the Creator that I love.  Each new thing I see causes me to love Him even more. . .especially when I see things that I know only I can see at that moment!  I felt as though that eagle was a gift.  I called the children to see it, too, and now I share the moment with you as well.

Kathy graciously urged me to get off the phone so I could take some pictures.  They aren’t the best of quality because the eagle was so far away.  This was the best I could do with my lens.  As you can see, the sky was whitish today, not blue.

This next one was unexpectedly delightful, as I did not realize the Baltimore Oriole was above the eagle until I downloaded the pictures to my computer.

I heard this hymn for the first time this weekend and I played it over and over.  Rich and I both agreed that the words were so very edifying, encouraging and rich with meaning for believers.  A good hymn can lift my soul a little closer to heaven, like this one does. . . .

“Before the throne of God above”

Before the throne of God above
I have a strong, a perfect plea:
a great High Priest, whose name is Love,
who ever lives and pleads for me.

My name is graven on his hands,
my name is written on his heart;
I know that while in heaven he stands
no tongue can bid me thence depart.

When Satan tempts me to despair,
and tells me of the guilt within,
upward I look, and see him there
who made an end of all my sin.

Because the sinless Savior died,
my sinful soul is counted free;
for God, the Just, is satisfied
to look on him and pardon me.

Behold him there! the risen Lamb!
My perfect, spotless Righteousness,
the great unchangeable I AM,
the King of glory and of grace!

One with himself, I cannot die;
my soul is purchased by his blood;
my life is hid with Christ on high,
with Christ, my Savior and my God.

Words: Charitie Lees De Chenez 1841-1923)

Yes, a good hymn lifts my soul upwards, as does the Bible, encouragment from the ones I love, and also God’s majestic creation.  What sort of things lift your soul when you are feeling a little grumpy?

Blessed indeed is the man

who hears many gentle voices

call him father!  ~Lydia M. Child

This will be a shortish post. . .we have returned home from our long weekend away and we are now settling down.  The van is unpacked and our sandwiches have been consumed.  The sun is going down, and Rich is in the living room reading to the children, and receiving a special “Father’s Day back-rub”.  They all take turns, as they listen to the words of the story.

This morning, at 5:51, Rich and I were awakened by a little *knock-knock* on our door (we had a suite at the hotel).  Rich opened the door to find our youngest standing there.  “I want to sleep with you”, he said.  I hardly opened my eyes. . but when I did I thought Caleb in his Daddy’s arms was so precious that I got out of bed to get my camera.   And so, a moment has been captured, that we will soon not forget.  How blessed we are, to have this small son. . . .so trusting, so happy to lay quietly in his Daddy’s arms.

Of course, he wasn’t completely quiet.  He softly hummed the theme song to “Thomas the Tank Engine”, several times.  That’s Caleb for you, and we didn’t mind at all.

I thank God for our children, and for my husband, who does such a good job as a Dad.