All posts filed under: Family

When: You’re Two

One of my favorite phrases as a mom is, “You know, when you’re two you’re two.” 🤷‍♀️ You’ve gotta hand it to those toddlers- life is not always easy at that age; they’re curious and vivacious and sometimes frenetic and pretty clueless about how most things actually work in the world. They’ve got all the fuel they need to run a country, but they’ve got no skills to do it 😂 My current toddler is a real hoot. He’s got a passionate personality, he learned full sentences before two-and-a-half, and he’s got brawn coupled with a very tender heart. But, you know, when you’re two you’re two. In other words- there’s so much depth to those toddlers, so much to their heart and their mind and their soul, but they’re just two. They’ve been on this Earth for only two years. They have so little experience. And yet they want to do so much. Our little family lives on a fair amount of land, and our house is situated further back off the road, and …

Time :: Stride

Time is a warped entity in grief and post trauma.  Life is going to end soon. Much sooner than you realize. It happened to the person you love, so it will happen to you, too.  There isn’t enough time to enjoy the things you want to enjoy. There isn’t enough time to appreciate the things you want to appreciate. There isn’t enough time to process, to make memories, to succeed, to change, to cherish, to slow down, to speed up, to remember, to move forward, to help, to stop, to wait, to listen, to become, to love.  Time is a warped entity.  And we have to put up with it no matter which way we go- whether we be optimistic, pessimistic, or realistic.  Something I’ve been working on these past five years, with the excellent help of my counselor, is to “take life in stride” or “as it comes.” That is much much more complex in nature than those catchy phrases. Our human nature is at war with the fallen world; we are always grieving …

Chaos :: Rhythms

Bouquets of newly sharpened pencils.  Bushels of apples.  Long shadows.  Falling leaves.  Pumpkin spice everywhere. Nostalgia. And then you have kids. Lots and lots and lots of germs. Stuffy heads and runny noses. Early bedtimes. Consistent schedules. Not enough coffee. School newsletters and paperwork. More stuffiness and less patience. The list could go on, but my fingers are tired just typing out that short list. My daughter goes to preschool two days a week and Bible study one day a week, so it’s a reasonable schedule packed into the middle of the week, allowing us the luxury of flexibility the other four days. But- I’m a Potter trying to run a little creative business that requires a lot of strength, time, and finesse; my husband is a Firefighter, Air Force, and an Entrepeneur Farmer. We’re either going to meetings, taking the kids out to play, running errands, cleaning the house, planting our crop, planning the next phase of renovations on our property, making time for friends, running off to work, trying to make a pot …

Scrapes :: Bumps

Today I told my daughter “Fear is not your friend. Scrapes and bumps are part of the game of life.” Mind you, all she was doing was learning to ride her bike with training wheels. She’d taken quite a tumble a few minutes prior while going down a steep incline. When she fell I held her close and soothed her, and the first thing I said after the wails had quieted was: “You know what, though??? You did AWESOME!!! I am so proud of you for going down that hill, even though it was hard to do.” I want my children to know and accept that life is hard. Sometimes it’s complete shit, but I don’t say it to them like that at this stage of life. I just give them gentle reminders that scrapes & bumps will happen; there will be sad days; there will be disappointments and foibles; there will be mistakes and down-right naughtiness; life will kick you in the pants. Life can be so hard. But before they accept that ^ …

Darkness :: Light

After Heidi died suddenly at four days old, her little sister Everley was born nine months later at nine weeks early and lived in the NICU for six weeks. In less than a year, my heart was shattered by death and the pieces that were left got beat up and bruised from the near death of my second daughter. I was a bloody mess and deeply broken. I was not able to see the light of day…. Moments like this one I stumbled upon today show me that God has brought us to a soft and gentle place. A place where there is light. And my heart is healing in small but sure ways. God is not afraid of the darkness. After all, that’s how he began his own story- “The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. …And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light. And God saw that the light was good. And God separated the light from the darkness.” Genesis 1:2-4

Be: A Steward

Tragedies all around. Walmart shooting. A friend with potential brain cancer & three little children at home. A friend with pregnancy complications. Another friend who had a difficult late miscarriage like mine. Tragedies make us think. Since we can’t Turn Back Time and since we can’t Mess Up the Sovereignty of God, what CAN we do? There’s a gray area to life that I call Being a Good Steward. Life can’t be perfect or controlled there. Fear can’t dominate there. It’s just a place where there is faith, trust, information, and reasonable choices. We can’t change what has happened and we certainly can’t dictate or influence the plans of an Omnipotent God, but we can work with what we’ve been given. Till the earth. Watch the weather. Plant the seeds. Manage the weeds. Tend the growth. Prepare for winter.

Day 5: Own It

Counseling has been one of those things for us. We really really need it. When we were dating we met with a couple who’s 15 years older than we are to talk about relationship stuff- who’s in this triangle? how’s the triangle working? are we making this work for you, me and God, or just one angle of this triangle? You know, good thoughtful stuff like that. Then we met with our church’s teaching elder and his wife to discuss deeper and broader concepts concerning the institution of marriage in the weeks and months leading up to our wedding vows. Then we got married. And it all went out the window.  You’d think we were well prepared and had our act together and matured steadily and easily. But we haven’t. That hasn’t been our story. We’ve WORKED -our asses off- to get good at this marriage thing. We’ve fought and cried and apologized and forgiven and prayed and replayed it and redone it and reworked it.  Professional counseling would’ve helped a lot when we first …

Day 4: Millennial Growth

On the heels of my little humorous Millennial post last night, I’ll share something I’m 21st century passionate about for marriage.  We live in the Age of Information. We have nearly every resource possible at our literal finger tips. YouTube is not of the devil; Facebook is not fake relationships; Instagram is not a facade. The 21st century is really just like every century before us- new inventions, new creations, new opportunities. We can use those resources for good or for evil, but may most of us use it ALL for growth and maturity and truth.  My husband and I make use of podcasts about scripture study and family lifestyle, we make use of YouTube when we can’t attend our regular church service, we make use of Facebook to share our story and connect with people in our community, we use Instagram to journal our family memories. We use the politheria of Social Media to our advantage.  There are plenty of people who allow these resources to unhealthily integrate into their lifestyle. If you are …

Day 2: Suffering Spouse

I remember the stomach ache I had the morning I attended the elite military special operations class graduation that July morning. I became more nauseas as I listened to the Master of Ceremonies gloat and bellow about the absurd pride of this military unit. It was disgusting to me how much weight and glory was put into human striving and human achievement. I didn’t want to see my young husband become part of something that would puff him and make him feel like he had finally achieved the gold standard. I wanted a humble, present, compassionate husband. Instead, I felt that after six months of training and eight months of marriage that I had been given an arrogant pompus-ass for a husband. I never thought I’d see what it was like for my husband to endure rigorous, mind-numbing, grueling militant training that forced him to suffer and willingly suffer and find a way to survive. That was all of six months and then POW training as well. But I witnessed it the day my husband …