A Birthday Trip.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Family.

This post begins with a caveat.  I write this blog for myself, and don't usually cater the content to other readers much, but I do observe certain boundaries, knowing that readers, whoever and wherever you are, are indeed there.  This post blows past all boundaries and is, entirely, for myself and my kids to read someday.  It will be full of seemingly boastful swagger that hedges on obnoxious.  So, dear reader, beware.  I'm writing this for us.

A couple of weeks ago, after reading this post, my friend Rachel* facebooked me and said,

"I was reading your blog about being in your house for five years and it made me think - wait a minute, I've 'known' Megan for about five years and I don't remember a move. Anyway, I've spent some time going through your archives this morning and it's crazy to see your kids so little! I know in my head how fast it goes, but having a baby is completely exhausting, it's easy to forget."

  I messaged back,

"Funny you mentioned this. Just this morning I was searching through my old journals looking for something (I only pull them out once in a blue moon) and the thing I was looking for was in the 2005/2006 or so time period. I laughed to myself as I scanned three years of journal entries, 68% of them starting with, "God, I am so tired this morning!" etc. or consisting of me talking about how worn down/tired/overwhelmed I was feeling that day about one thing or another. Hmm...could it be all those babies and being pregnant all the time?? My goodness!"

Those early years are a bit blurry.  At the time I certainly knew they were difficult, but in hindsight I am AMAZED at how we got through it in one piece.  It was a one moment at a time exercise in relying on God to give me what I needed; be it strength, patience, or forgiveness, as all those journal entries testify. 

Jim and I are entering in to a golden season of parenting.  Our kids our independent (but still very near.)  They are capable and bright and eager individuals, and we watch them grow more so every day.  All six of us so entirely different, we even out one another's rough edges.  It's real life, it can be gritty and ugly, it can be frustrating, but it is also chock-full of rewards.  Honestly, I just like my kids and my husband so very much.

Parenting is not easy.  We worked hard to lean on our strengths, and strengthen our weaknesses.  For me as a mom, that meant my kids thrived under my pragmatic style of leadership and my sense of flexible order.  I'm creative but organized and that has really added a lot to how this family "works." 

I also love my kids fiercely.  That love compelled me to press in to my faults and shortcomings and serve them anyway.  I am introverted and easily overwhelmed by busyness, excess noise, and talking.  I have very little patience or compassion.  These are learned, transformed behaviors in me, should you ever see me display them.  I have a low tolerance for being touched.  I like my space.  I can't stand messes, or when people touch my stuff.  Most of all, I am deeply, deeply selfish.  I very rarely think of anyone else first.  Just me.  I don't know if you have kids, or ever work with small children, but...  nothing could involve more noise, mess, touching, diplomatic mediating over somewhat ridiculous arguments, or more need for patience and compassion.  And it is entirely about serving outside yourself.

I am a work in progress, and there is nothing quite like parenthood to move you squarely outside the boundaries of what's "comfortable."  In myriad ways, my salvation is being worked out in my role as a wife and a mother.

Thankfully, I married a man who complements all my strengths and faults;  we make a real team.  (But let's be clear, he's a much better person than me.  Anyone who knows us will tell you so.)

Long story not made short, we set out on a quest some eleven years ago with a clear vision of what our marriage and family would be here for, and while the road has been long, and our methods are constantly evolving, that vision is here and clear and not going anywhere.  And the kicker is that now that we're down the road a bit, we see fruit from all those long and weary early days, and it is beautiful.

I am very, very hopeful for the future.  Not because we can sit back and relax; indeed this next decade of parenting will be intense as our children transition from childhood into teenagers and young adults. 

But because ten years ago when Grace was born (and I didn't know the first thing about being a mother) God promised me that if we would do this thing day by day with Him, He would be there and He would work something incredible in and through us.  And He delivered.  Over and over and over again. 

This year has marked a "halftime" for us; a pause between the craziness of a house full of small children and the iron man challenge it will be to mentor, love, and inspire them through these formative years, allowing them to discover who they are, who God is to them personally, and what they will live for; preparing them to leave us well.  Nothing breaks my heart or fills it with joy more than that calling!

Being a part of this family is absolutely amazing.  I really, really, really like every one of you.  Thank you for putting up with me so nicely.

*Rachel sells online Lightroom Classes!

10.

Jim,

Ten years ago today we had our little June wedding.  

It feels ages back as much as it seems it was yesterday.

We've changed so much; we're still who we were.

We're both closer to who we're meant to be- with far to go.

I have discovered and become so much more of who I am because I am tied to you.

In losing myself, I've found myself.

This is the transfiguration of marriage.

I don't depend on you to make me happy; and you make me so happy.

I really do like you, very much.

Every year I've loved you more- the easiest and hardest thing I've ever done.

We've grown up and evolved and learned and multiplied; and through all 

this change and becoming, we are closer, tighter, better.

Our paths complement one another, and then join.

I know that's because long before there was a you and me, 

we had both decided to let Someone Else lead the way.

Happy Anniversary.

Love,

Megan

The ultimate happiness in life is the conviction that one is loved; loved for oneself- better still, loved in spite of oneself. -Victor Hugo

Lazy Saturday.

Our kids are in MN this weekend with Jim's parents, and we spent our day doing nothing, and something.

We slept in, and had a late breakfast at HyVee.  Went shoe shopping (it wasn't bad). Did things at home.  Drank coffee.  Watched two episodes of This Old House, and some of Ken Burns' new documentary. We went out to find some milkweed so we could attract more Monarchs next year....

Then Jim decided he wanted to go fishing.  So we packed up for that, grabbed some Subway, and took the dogs to the lake.

It was wet, but great.  No bites, that's OK.

Saw a frog with one good leg-  thought of you Gracie.  You would have loved to have seen it.  He had a sad and crazy hop.  He gets around fine.

We came back, and decided we wanted cheesecake for dinner.  We grabbed the essential ingredients at HyVee, and we did, in fact, eat cheesecake for dinner.  Watched another documentary (about Conan), and then Jim watched Tron while I sorted through pictures and listened to the soundtrack to Wicked.

So, it was a lazy Saturday.  We did lots of things, and nothing, and it was great.



All in one.

I'm glad you're the type of man who watched a football game, fixed a bike,

took care of a sick kid, and made us an apple crisp all in one day.

Weekend.

Jim planned a four day weekend last week.  The kids (and the dogs) went to Grandpa and Grandma's Minnesota farm for one last hoo-rah in the country before school starts next week.  We went out Friday night, slept in Saturday morning, and then packed up and drove to Omaha for the weekend.

We hung out in the Old Market on Saturday afternoon,

Then went to the Balloon and Wine Festival that night.

It was crowded, but fun- and nice to get away.

Monday we worked on things at home, and the kids were back in time for Lily to attend Kindergarten Orientation that night, and then for Grace and Patie to meet their teachers Tuesday night (the girls are attending a local elementary school this fall).  We really like all of their teachers a lot and we're all excited for a new school year to start (but a few more days of summer are OK too).

Thank You.

potatoes.

Jim, thank for everything you do to make our garden grow.  You put so many hours into it, you know what you're doing, and things are starting to happen out there.

Soon we'll have more flowers to bring inside, and more tomatoes than we can eat, so we'll freeze them.

Every year I'm thankful for that.

9.

Jim,

Today is our ninth anniversary.

We met at 19 but we grew up together.  Married at 20 and 21, we were thrown into jobs and mortgages and new cities and children- we jumped in with both feet, and it was hard.  Which was good.  And life with you is good. 

Every year loving you gets less complicated, and more complex.  It gets deeper, easier, and more fun. 

We get each other- our strengths and our flaws.  It's incredibly easy to be with you, because there's nothing hidden, and nothing we can't work out in the end.

I don't expect you to make me happy.  And you make me incredibly happy.  This is how it works.

Tonight I was in the middle of chopping onions for dinner when you called.  It was hard to hear you over the sound of four children playing Wii karaoke in the background.

We'll go out this weekend- tonight, well, it will look like most any other night, but, you made a point to ask me if I'd like to drink some wine and watch Glee. 

Yes, please.


Thanks for loving me,
Megan

The Recap.

OK.  I know you were dying to know how it went.

Thursday I dropped the kids off with Grandma, came back to Sioux Falls, and went to some garage sales, then I bought groceries, and Lily and Grace's birthday presents.

I got home, washed and sorted all of the kids' summer clothes from the storage tubs, and sorted/switched over their closets for spring/summer. 

When Jim got home, we did miscellaneous tasks, made lists of what we wanted to get done over the weekend, then drank a bottle of wine and watched Glee.  It was a good day.

Friday morning we got up, got organized, and started working.  Jim fixed our doorbell, changed a headlight, fixed the railing on our basement stairs, ate lunch with friends, and did some other things, I forget.  We also steamed all the carpets in our house.  So, most of the day, our house looked like....

When things were dry, everything was re-organized, cleaned, and put back where it belonged.  Then, totally tired, we went to Target to buy new sheets for our bed, because that was my motivation to finish, grabbed some ice cream, and came home to drink another bottle of wine, and watch The King's Speech- which was incredible, and I have since geeked-out with the DVD special features.

Saturday morning we got up bright and early to meet friends for coffee, then we helped our church move it's offices into our new building- I'm really glad we could be there-  it's a pretty big deal. 

We grabbed lunch with everyone, then headed over to see some of our African friends.  Here's a video from that afternoon....

Then, we ran home because our dogs had been left inside all day, and Jim went back out to head over to our other refugee family's house, so he could take them out to buy seeds and garden supplies, and give them advice about when to plant things (it's a little colder here than in Africa, go figure).

Saturday night we went out with a couple of great friends, who also flew sans kids for the weekend.  We ate steak, then went to the Wild Sage for dessert, and Touch of Europe for drinks.  We were out until like, midnight- it was fantastic.

Sunday morning we picked up coffee, breakfast, and Lily's birthday balloons- Sunday was her 5th birthday- and we headed to MN to grab the kids, and have Easter dinner/ Lily's party with Jim's family, which was also great.

And then it was all over and Monday showed up as usual.

All the Makings of the Most Romantic Weekend Possible...

Spent some time today planning what I'll be doing with this guy all weekend.

Sometimes Jim's parents take our kids for the weekend, and that's nice, because our kids are happier on their farm than anywhere else on earth, and Jim and I get to spend some time remembering what it's like to be alone, to eat dinner whenever we want to, to be loud after 8 PM, and to see movies in a theatre.

Our kids will be away this weekend.  Jim and I have been really itching to get away for about 2 months.  We wanted to head to another city, like when we went to Chicago last spring,  but didn't want to spend too much money- which limits us- so we looked around.  We like just hanging out- especially checking out new places.  After much Googling of events in Chicago, Kansas City, and the TCs, we couldn't settle on anything, and didn't want to pay to fly anywhere.  And as much fun as it would be do jump in our kid-free car and just get out of town...  the plans weren't coming together.  And we don't want to spend very much money...did I mention that?  Let me stress again- I'm dying to get away for a long weekend with Jim.  But I can't make peace with the price tag.

We'll have 3 days together- he'd already planned to take Friday off from work.  I find our revised weekend plans humorous- here they are:

• While he's at work on Thursday, I'm going to super-clean the house.  That means like, moving furniture and everything.
• We're going to volunteer at The Banquet on Friday morning- something we always want to do but the time never works out for us.
• We will steam the carpets on the main floor of our house. 
• Jim is going to inspect our vacuum, which has been giving me woes, and we may need to buy a new one.  If so we'll add finding a new vacuum to the list.
• Work in the yard.
• Pay Jim's income taxes.
• Buy birthday presents for Lily and Grace.
• Get a chip filled in our van's windshield.
• Fix our doorbell.
• Watch Steve Carrel's last episode of The Office.
• See The King's Speech at the cheap theatre.  If it's still there.  Hopefully.
• Drink lots of wine.
• Enjoy how productive we can be without kids. 

After all the work is done, I'm sure we'll still have a ton of time left to do nothing together.  And I'm looking forward to that.  A lot.

Twice as Good

You know I was too busy trying to do nothing yesterday to write any blog posts.

And I didn't even take the time to take a new picture of you, or of us, or even find an old one of us.  This one was just easy to find, since it's your facebook profile.  It will have to do.  Any post is better with a picture. 



I love you because I love you.  You love me because you love me.  We know one another- and that is priceless. 

And as Sara Groves says it,

with every burden I have carried
with every joy it's understood
life with you is half as hard
and twice as good


I love you.

In the Snow

Jim and I spent a lot of time doing nothing together last weekend, and it was great.

After we grabbed some groceries, we went for a little walk in the snow.  He then threw me in a snowbank and smashed snow in my face, which I did not like.

We have fun together.

Flowers are Nice.

Jim and the kids brought me some daisies last weekend. 

But, this is what gets me-  Saturday morning I was out early at Starbucks with a friend.  Everyone was asleep when I left.  While I was there, Jim buzzes me a text that says, "Thanks for cleaning my shower!" (I'd cleaned the day before).

He noticed and he texted me to tell me so.

Flowers are nice.

But it's stuff like that text that rocks my world and reinforces my opinion that Jim Koch is the finest thug around.

Not Wasted.

"...How will we respond to the call, to those whose spirits are crushed by poverty, trauma, and abuse; whose intellect and imagination could lift whole families and villages out of poverty but for the lack of an education; whose bodies are wounded or killed by hunger, disease, and violence?  Prophets throughout Scripture challenge us to raise these questions and to address them with all the resources we have- with our money and our goods, certainly, but also with our intellects, our voices, and our power...How many of us are missing the wave of God's justice?"
                                                                                      - Sarah Dylan Breuer

Our God is a God of justice, beauty, restoration, wholeness.  I want to live and walk with God, with Jim, with our children, making daily choices to see the Kingdom come on Earth- to boldly make choices quite small and sometimes impossibly large to work toward these very things, in strength that never comes from us.  I want to live with clarity and intention, to accept the call to daily live with purpose in the very place we are right now, for such a time as this.  And when I fail in that task, I want to live fully in the grace that allows me to pick up and keep walking, setting me back on course. 

I want my children to see us living awake and alive first, and for them to catch a passion to never, ever throw a day away.

Six and One

"We've all experienced the low-grade despair that comes when our days blend into each other- wake up, eat breakfast, brush teeth, go to school or work or the office, change another diaper, do another load of laundry, write a check, fill a tank, cook a meal and then repeat it all over again the next day.  One day looks like the next, everything starts to feel the same, life starts to feel like the existential equivalent of refrigerator buzz...

...Six days you shall work, but on the seventh, don't.  Why is this so monumental? God gives them rhythm.  But not the rhythm of sound, the rhythm of time.  Life before was an interminable succession of sevens.  Seven, seven, seven.  But now, their time is broken up, measured, arranged with a beat: six and one, six and one, six and one.

God is the God of the groove.

We need rhythm in our time- it's what makes one moment different from another.  It gives shape and color and form to all of life.

- Rob Bell in the article Why We Wait, found here.

I press hard to get rhythm in my own life, and for our children, in the day-to-day.  We really do have it.  Pockets of rest or solitude, pockets for reading, pockets for focused attention, pockets for mundane tasks, pockets for intense learning and pockets for TV. 

That rhythm brings life, but, even it gets a little listless if you do it too long. 

It's hard to get a true Sabbath when you have small children.  Sunday, though purposed as a day of rest, despite my best-laid plans, and even some extra time to spare (which easily fills itself if I don't fight it) and even with a little extra reading, or a little extra family time or, perhaps even some relaxing or a nap fit in- when I break it down, it still looks incredibly similar to the other six.  I've learned to welcome the Sabbath post-children, and do life slower that day- but, let's face it- I've also learned to not get my hopes up.  A lot of Sundays are going to leave me wanting.  It's about my attitude, though.  Keeping hopeful toward a Sabbath, staying intentional and available to rest- day to day, and on Sunday.  And goodness, am I grateful for a season of children in our house.


The past two months have been just crazy.  I'd say, they've been very good, but not always because things have been easy, or simple, or lovely.  But, it hasn't been all terrible either.  But, just a blur.  A blur, and, also just about grinding through the every day duties, pressing on, and when life threw us a curve ball, getting through it- and then keeping on the grind, through busy, through responsibility, through grieving.  It's a season.  And I know that.  And it hasn't been without reward.  But it has been, very much, lacking rest.

I don't see Jim.  Not really.  He leaves in the dark, he returns in the dark.  We eat dinner, I clean up the kitchen (and by the end of that, I've typically been in there for 2-3 hours between prepping, cooking, eating, and cleaning up- and lest I sound bitter, I'll mention, I enjoy it- in theory), he spends time with the kids, takes them to bed, reads and sings and prays with them.  Then Jim comes up stairs, and we sort of look at each other and say, "Hey."  We've both put ourselves out there all day, and now, at the end, our devotion to oneness usually looks like catching up on an episode on Hulu with the dogs before getting ready for bed. If there is anything I need to ask him or talk to him about, I have to write it down, or I will forget by then and regret it the next day-  And at 5 AM, the alarm sounds, and it starts over.

We love each other.  A lot.  We make it a priority to be together- but- I want to see him when I'm mentally clear and have a day's worth of energy, and nothing else to take it from me- so I can spend it all with him.  About once every two weeks or so, we have a really great, long, awesome conversation at night once the kids are in bed- but-  I'd safely call once every two weeks rare.

I'm not complaining.  We both live knowing we've got the exact jobs we're right for, that this is just exactly where we should be.  So there is a way to thrive in it.  We work towards it every day.  It's not so much about arriving at that destination, as it is about the daily journey of getting there.

There is beauty in our daily toil, and ending it exhausted together.  But Jim, I want to see you in the daylight. 

It doesn't happen often- but we do try to stay intentional about getting focused alone time away from our day to day life.  And we're doing that this weekend. 

This has been a weird week.  All kinds of distractions, weird things, discouraging things, out of nowhere things, unexpected bills, and, I've been sick since a week after I was vaccinated.  At first, I was incredibly sick, now, I'm just not getting over it.  People are asking me for things, I have 100 things to do in the next month, we're a full week behind in school after missing so much time while we were travelling for funerals in October, and I need to press on if we'll finish before Christmas and Africa and hopefully get a solid Christmas Break for fun. 

At first, it made me tempted to just drop our trip.  I'd just run up to the city and finish up my workshop, and come back.  When you're sick, you do sort of feel like just giving up.  But yesterday, I read that article above.  And I recognized how much has gone wrong this week, and how very, very needy Jim and I are for total rest.  For time.  Especially if this next season is to be fruitful.  We need to be focused, not distant.

So, I'm rejecting the things that tempt me to get discouraged, I'm doing what needs to be done, I'm going to keep pace, finish the work that has to be finished, and leave the rest to find it's own time to be completed next week.  I'm going to press on, and finish this week strong, though I feel physically weak, and we. are. going. to. arrive. at. rest.

This time away is a gift.  We're supposed to wrap our arms around it.  Jim, I'm 100% ready to do nothing with just you.

On Holiday

Jim and I are heading out on holiday this weekend- we've been working hard all fall, and it's coming up at the perfect time- work for me is winding down, and life is closing up a busy fall in anticipation of a grateful Thanksgiving or two with family, the Christmas season, the end of the school semester for the kids, and Africa to close the year.

I've had requests to hold a workshop in the Twin Cities area in the past, and so I was able to make that happen while we're there as well.  I'm always jazzed to meet neat folks and teach.  I promise you, an angel sings every time a new Manual Shooter is born, or, at least, one does in my mind-  An angel who is lit beautifully by the sun- because I firmly believe there is no flash photography in heaven. 

For the four hours I'm teaching in Maple Grove, Jim will snag some WiFi at a Starbucks and eat some snacks or something.  I don't know what he'll do.  But then it's back to just us.  All in all, I'm positive we'll have a great weekend.

We're planning to do as much nothing as possible.  Take walks, drink lots of coffee, read books, avoid retail, and just be.

We're also catching the Love Tells the Story Tour, which I immediately bought us tickets for weeks ago when I heard about it (one of the benefits of NoiseTrade).  If I meet Don Miller and manage to avoid making a total fool of myself, I'll blog about it.

Jimmy

We lost Jim's Grandpa Koch at the beginning of October.  Two weeks later, we lost his Grandma Koch as well. 

When I was first getting to know Jim, I remember him saying that having lunch with his grandpa while he was growing up (a common, everyday thing) remained, even to this day, one of the best and most important memories of his life.

In the mix of all that these losses have meant for his family, it has also meant a lot of recalling memories for Jim, and I've heard stories I'd never heard, and gone through old photographs with him while we were back at his family home.

He was given a folder of clippings and notes his grandma had saved over the years. 

I still remember the first time I went home with Jim for Thanksgiving. Several people called him Jimmy, as if this was always his name. Because it was. 

Slowly, once he was married, it lost out to Jim, until just one, sometimes two, grandmothers reserved the right to keep his name young like he was in their memories.

I only use it to patronize.

But I like to remember that there were nearly 20 years of time before I met him, when he was growing up, pestering his brother, working on 4H projects, receiving perfect scores on math tests, eating cookies, and learning how to farm, and, being called Jimmy.

Farm Boy

Jim grew up on a farm.  I did too.  The difference between us?  I appreciate nature/solitude/wide skies, but you can always visit those.  I could. not. wait. to move into a city someday.  He never wanted to leave.  He made peace by choosing to engineer farm equipment for a career.

A month or so ago, our small group's icebreaker question was to describe your DREAM job- income and reality suspended.  My answer (though I could think of many and they're quite varied):  To essentially have Meg Ryan's life in You've Got Mail- everything about it, but with my current family, of course.  Bookstore owner, be adorable, have a bright, beautiful but sensible apartment (much larger than hers, of course, to accommodate said family), taking advantage of the city, etc. 

Jim's answer?  Be a farmer. 

You can see, our dream jobs are highly incompatible.

Hudson seems to have inherited the farmer gene.  He's spent hours and hours in the combine this month.  As soon as we arrive at the farm and his chubby feet hit the ground, it's basically the only thing he wants to do.