That's My Daughter.

 

I confess that the day I took this picture, I took at least 50 more, all nearly identical, but each one unique.  Later as I culled through the images I couldn't bear to throw out even one.

 

Like every parent, I am amazed at how quickly my children evolve and mature, but lately Grace is just blowing my mind.  She is so tall, so stretched out, so well-read and really, really thoughtful.  I catch myself staring at her every day wondering where my little girl went, and who this girl is becoming.

 

As I stood in the creek with my camera, that Loudon Wainwright song played in my head over and over, sharp and nostalgic.

 

Watching her grow is a grieving and a joy; I'm so glad I get to keep the pictures.



Things I Don't Want to Forget.

See caveat for this post,  for sure it applies here...

Here are some things that have happened lately; things I don't want to forget.

1.  Not long ago Hudson, who is five, burly, and tender-hearted, read The Giving Tree with me for the first time.  As we read each page, as the tree lost more of itself, I noticed Hudson was looking very introspective, and his breathing was deep, measured.  By the end, he sat silently, not closing the book, not saying a word.  We sat for a few moments and I said, "What are you thinking, Buddy?" 

"I just feel heavy, Mom.  Real heavy."

Melt my heart. 


2.  In January the kids always hit their "100th Day of School."  There are little celebrations centered around the number 100.  Lily brought home a sheet her first grade class filled out, "100 years from now, how old will I be?" etc. 

One of the questions was, "If I had an extra $100 I would ____________." 

Lily wrote, "Give it to poor people."

A few weeks later at conferences we saw some samples of Patie's writing.  One sample was a worksheet, similar to what Lily had.  One of the questions was the same, asking the kids to write a paragraph about how they would spend $100 if they had it.  Patie wrote that she would give it away to poor people.

SHUT MY MOUTH, HOW DID YOU TWO BECOME SUCH AMAZING PEOPLE???????

They are picking this up somewhere.  While we are often with the poor, and talk about the poor, in full disclosure I need to be clear:  we give, but to be honest, if someone gave me an extra $100, my instinct would be to keep it.  I wouldn't immediately find someone to give it to.  And if someone gave them $100 for reals, I don't know that they wouldn't do the same.  Maybe they would.  Maybe we need to try that experiment.

Regardless, look at those hearts, away from us, not knowing we'd see it, right in front of their friends, they thought of the poor first.  Make me more like that!


3.  Speaking of conferences- conference time is THE BEST.  Your teachers are always brimming over with praise and stories and love for each of you girls.  You are simply amazing.  That's all.


4.  A couple of weeks ago, out of the blue, Grace said, "All my friends who've been to my house are jealous because I have such an awesome mom, and they talk about you at school, and say that I'm so lucky to have a mom like that."

SHUT. UP.  YOU ARE KILLING ME, GRACE.

Honestly, our girls' friends do say stuff like that, not just Grace's.  I WILL TAKE IT!  YOU CAN THINK WE'RE COOL!  LITTLE DO YOU KNOW!

I do like to keep that statement in my back pocket, for times when I know I'm getting on Grace's nerves, or keep telling her what to do and she gets annoyed with me. 

I'll be like, "Hey, your friends are JEALOUS you have a mom this awesome!  Don't you forget it!"  This has not failed to make her laugh in tense moments.  Someday it will fail.  Until then, I'm keeping it!



Kids, you. are. incredible.  For 1,000 reasons, I admire you so much.  You make life so very interesting and so good.

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!

Last First Tooth.



Recently Hudson lost his first tooth; a second followed just days later.

Every first for Hudson has been a last for me.  Add one more to the list.  Sigh.

Adventure is Out There.



Now that the girls are in school, Hudson and I have started a new routine.  Instead of just going to the park by our house, we visit parks around the city- anything with a nature trail.

Parks and paths are virtually empty at 8 a.m. on weekdays.  It's quiet and cool and the animals are out and about.  We spot dragonflies, butterflies, crickets, birds, fish and turtles, spiders and their webs.   

Last week we were walking near a pond and Hudson said, "Look!!!  A frog!"  I looked and looked where he was pointing and didn't see anything.  I was about to say a dismissive, "That's cool, Buddy."  Meaning, "Whatever, maybe you see it, maybe you think you do."  And then I saw it.  A huge frog the size of a bread plate, camouflaged on the muddy bank.  So I said "Wow!  You're right!"  And Hudson said, "Yep!  Now I have the Eagle Eye!"

(Grace has an incredible eye for visual detail- she doesn't miss anything in a room.  She notices everything, and any change from "normal." So, if someone's missing a shoe, a book, a ball or a sock, we always use the "Eagle Eye"; Grace.  If she doesn't immediately know where said article is, she'll find it in less than 5 minutes. So Hudson was thrilled he could spot something with his own "Eagle Eye," which is to say, my son is adorable.)

It was a fantastic frog, and it let Hudson sneak really, really close before making a lightning fast leap into the water.

Later that day we ran into an especially bold squirrel.  Hudson tries to get close to squirrels but they always run away.  This one just hopped up on a branch to get a better look at Hudson from above.  Hudson got right under the branch, super-quiet, and started talking to the squirrel, and making kissing noises at it, like how we talk to our bird. 

After a minute or so, the squirrel- interest piqued, ears perked and tail twitching- started to talk back.  Not a chirping or clicking like you hear in movies- more of a mumbling jumble of sounds, almost like humming. They talked back and forth, the squirrel and Hudson, for several minutes until a couple walked by with their dog and the squirrel was off.  I don't think Hudson will ever forget it.  He left assuming he and the squirrel were now "best buddies."

Adventure is out there!

Back to School.



The first day of school is a bittersweet yo-yo.

But I've made a bouquet in honor of my favorite Nora Ephron movie, I'm letting Hudson take me to Target, and we're expecting good things this year.

Not Limited.

Creativity is a way of living life, no matter what our vocation, or how we earn our living.  Creativity is not limited to the arts, or having some kind of important career.  Several women have written to me to complain about A Swiftly Tilting Planet.  They feel that I should not have allowed Meg Murray to give up a career by marrying Calvin, having children, and quietly helping her husband with his work behind the scenes.  But if women are to be free to choose to pursue a career as well as marriage, they must also be free to choose the making of a home and the nurture of a family as their vocation; that was Meg's choice, and a free one, and it was as creative a choice as if she had gone on to get a PhD.  in quantum mechanics.

Our freedom to be creators is far less limited than some people would think.

- Madeleine L'Engle, Walking on Water, p.90

Just a bit.

Several of my friends have had babies this month. 

I think any mother who has had children who have all grown up into walking, talking, reading, socializing, driving (agh!) young people or adults will know what I am talking about.

The bittersweet and precious moment when I pick up a new baby, tiny and absolutely precious- there is just a bit of womb ache. 

It comes as I remember my own children, extremely small and helpless, especially in light of how very far they've come since the fleeting days when they were new.

It's knowing I can never have that back.

It comes in light of how much they've changed, and how much more complex mothering becomes as I raise a house-full of unique people, as we spend incalculable amounts of time, energy, focus and prayer growing up together.

Every time I had a new baby after Grace, I savored the simplicity.  Is a new baby exhausting, sometimes confusing?  Sure- but oh, oh, the simplicity.  Just love and time, that's what they need.  Everything else gets figured out in the end. 

Swiftly they grow, and the things that were so overwhelming as a new mother, are smoothed out and made clear with the hindsight- and you just ache to know what you know, to go back, and to listen to all the women who told you to relax, to just roll with it, and to just rock that baby and know everything else will be fine.  I thought I was listening to those women, but looking back, I didn't listen quite enough. 

I'm always trying to savor my children, whatever stage we are in, but I know, no matter what, I'll look back and know I didn't relax and savor enough.  That is the way of it.  I take peace in knowing I'm not meant to know now what I will know in 10 years- that's not how this works.  Also, this is what grandparents are for.

So, there's just a bit of ache for the time I can't have back, but it's incredibly sweet, too, as I fondly remember my girls and Hudson, so small, new.  And I am filled with hope and heart-pride at how wonderful it is to watch these people grow up.  It's an incredible privilege.

So I don't want to start time over and go back, ache or not, because it's so exciting to keep moving forward.  I'm grateful for sweet memories and priceless pictures of my children to remember what was, and I'm grateful to have enjoyed life when they were small, foggy as those days were, with four babies in as many years.

And though I've loved every stage, I can't help but absolutely love the days we have now.  We can go all day and no one needs to stop for a nap. We're all learning and reading and discussing, enjoying the diversity that comes with a house of individuals. Diapers are a distant memory and I have been enjoying uninterrupted sleep for the last 3 1/2 years. 

Today I will take my own advice and try even harder to just live in it, in the right now.

A Little Bit Punk Rock

Lily.  Oh, Lily.  You have to be in this family to really get what I'm talking about. 

This kid is our wild. card.

Her personality is so out of the box, words fail me to get it right for you.

But she is one quirky girl.

I knew something was up when, after two fair haired delicate baby girls, Lily showed up after a very difficult delivery with a FULL head of dark brown hair.  Just to be different.

Since then, it's all fallen out, and came in line with her sisters' shade-  but it's straight baby, because she couldn't possibly conform all the way.

She loves COLOR, and wacky outfits, and reason has never won her over- she creates realities in her mind, and it's basically impossible to change it once it's made up.  She says and does the most random things, with a Galifianakis-like quality that can leave us in stitches with laughter, or can bring us to tears (that's usually me, or one of her sibs, and it's a daily rollercoaster we ride together).

She's as sassy as she is lovely.  She's sweet and spicy- and neither is in short supply.

So, my point.  Last week.

The kids can wear pretty much whatever they want at home.

Last week I took this shot of Lily while she was getting her snack at 4 PM.  She'd been wearing this since breakfast...

I sent it to Jim at work.  He responded back, "Destined for roller derby!!! All she needs is some tattoos and a black eye."

I laughed, we chatted about it a bit.

But then on Saturday the kids spent the afternoon roller blading at the park, and as Lily was busy cutting it up Jim joked about it again- then said "Seriously, I think it would be perfect for her."

I considered it.  And wholeheartedly agreed.

When she is determined to do something, her mind is set. 

It's almost impossible to hurt Lily's feelings, and she's never once in her life felt truly terrible about hitting someone.

She is extremely smart, and was born a master at strategy and manipulation.

She does not give a rip what anyone thinks of her- it doesn't even occur to her that she should care.

She'll try just about anything- as long as it's on her terms.

She has all the qualities she'd need to take huge hits- and dish them right back out- then leave it all on the track.

This girl has attitude. And a whole lot of inner-rebel.  Moonlighting as a Roller Derby chick might be the perfect outlet for her.

I'm always calling her my little Punk, because, well, she's just got a Punk Rock way of doing things.

We'd be her biggest fans.

8.

Grace turned 8 last Saturday.  On one hand, it seems unbelievable that she could be 8 already, and on the other, it seems like she should be even older.  She's so mature, so serious, so tall- and seems so very grown up.

But she's still our little girl, and I'm struggling to hang on to that as I watch her hurry up and turn into a lovely young lady.

We fitted her for a new pair of roller blades on her birthday, at Scheels.

Scheels has a giant set of escalators.  I have been terrified of escalators since I was a small child.  I absolutely hate them.  Something about the automated way they run, there's no control, and the thought of tripping and falling down, smashing my face on their hard sharp metal edges.... Chills.

I try to never say things like this in front of my kids- don't want to handicap their blossoming minds with unnecessary fears.

Grade did, of course, desire to take the stairs, though, like me.  The other kids were totally disappointed.  On the way down, Jim rode the escalator with three thrilled Kochs, and Grace and I, again, took the long way.  It's healthier, really.  Right??

On the way down, she looked up at me and said, "I don't like escalators because I feel like I'm going to trip and fall on my face."

I gave a hearty, "AMEN, SISTER.  THAT IS A TOTALLY VALID CONCERN.  YOU TAKE THE STAIRS, BABY."

Jim and I laugh about it all the time- it is crazy how much that girl is just like me. 

Here are some shots from your birthday, Grace-  Love you.

A Good Job

I have always known that if I'm doing well as a mother, it means every single day you are getting closer to not needing me anymore.

It's a bittersweet thing to see so much evidence, but from the looks of things, I might be doing a good job.

I will rest in knowing I get a little more time.  I will hope that even when you're fine on your own, you'll still find reasons to call on me.

But, just for now, could you please slow down?

#4

Hudson is getting quite big.  But he's still our baby.

He's good-natured and sweet and funny, and his charm is absolutely disarming.  He also absolutely loves to have other people do things for him. 

I make him do anything by himself that I know he can do by himself- either simple things, or things that involve problem-solving and a little work-  just like his sisters needed to do at his age. 

Hudson has the same natural desire to be independent, to be big, to do big guy things as any three year old- but every single time he finds something to be a bit of a challenge at all- he defaults to asking for someone else to do it.  I almost always refuse, and the girls just can't refuse him.  After all, helping him makes them feel older, even if I remind them not to enable Hudson's dependence.  And, if it really was something he couldn't do, and they refused to help him, I'd probably lecture them- something about needing to be a helper and teacher for their brother.  They really can't win.

A couple of weeks ago, Hudson needed to put on his pajamas.  He's done this.  Many times.  They were one-piece, "footie" PJs- and they're way easier to get on if you do the feet first.  He tried a few times, couldn't get it to work.  I reminded him, "Feet first Hudson", and he kept insisting that I just do it for him.  I kept insisting, "No."

I left the room.  I came back, he was gone.  A while later he showed up again, fully dressed in his pajamas, and happy.  I said "See?  You did it- good job buddy."

"Eh, Gracie did it for me,"  he said, nonchalant.

"Hudson, I told you you needed to do it yourself.  You can do that for yourself, like a Daddy does."

Three beats of silence.

He cocked his head to the side, a thought-wrinkle formed above his nose, his eyes sparkled and looked straight into mine, "Your hair looks beautiful today Mommy."

And so my three year old has mastered the art of charm and distraction.  As if he was born to be a real estate agent, or a music executive.

He does really like to help Jim, though.

Flowers for me.

I woke up this morning to find a huge vase of flowers in the kitchen.  They were beautiful as they were, of course, but when I get huge bunches of flowers, I love to break them up, and place them around the house.

So that's what I did this afternoon.

Of course, while I was walking around with my camera I heard from the living room, "HEY MOM, WANT TO TAKE A PICTURE OF ME DOING A HANDSTAND????"

Of course I wanted to.

Happy Mother's Day.

Sweet Dreams.

I found myself cuddled up on the couch with all three of my girls on a chilly night last week, watching Tangled. 

Well, see, the girls bought the DVD, then we found ourselves watching it about 5 times that first week.

But there we were, all watching, and enjoying, Tangled.

During the song, I've Got a Dream,




I asked the girls what their dreams were.

They thought about it.  Actually, really thought about it.

Then Grace said, "I've always wanted to work with birds, you know, like know how to take care of them and have them land on your finger and stuff."

I told her that was a wonderful dream.

Lily, who did not really understand the concept of having a dream, in this context, said usually the only dreams she remembers are bad ones.  Moving on.

Later, after Patience had really had time to think about it, she said, "Well, I'd really like to be a children's librarian someday."

Talk about sweet dreams.

Just for fun...

Liberated.

I know several people who are married, but, for one reason or another, don't want kids right now.  Or people who are not anywhere near getting married, and can't imagine ever being a parent.  Fair enough.  I have no idea what they should do.

But I was thinking about this the other day. 

Some want a specific number of years alone together before they jump in. Some don't want children at all.

Some talk as if children are essentially a "necessary evil" that they will eventually give in to- but hopefully, not until the distant future, because they just can't imagine life with kids right now.  All the things that would have to change.  People articulate these ideas in carefully crafted euphemism- typically, we aren't so blunt. 

I've seen friends say these things, then have children, and wonder what in the world they were so afraid of.  Now they're absolutely in love with the children they feared so long would steal their independence and ruin opportunities for ministry with their time-consuming needs.

I've seen other friends have children for the wrong reasons, to complete the "set" of their family without putting much forethought into it, or having them because from far away, they seem sweet and like they'll make you feel love and loved and needed- only to get a few years into the absolute disillusionment that is real life parenting and wonder what went wrong.  Many people fail to actually count the cost of parenting before they have children.  But isn't it almost impossible to fully count that cost beforehand?

It's not so simple as to say everyone should have children-  let's not say it's that black and white.  Otherwise, a whole lot of people would be out of the will of God because, for one reason or another, they were not faithful to multiply, as we so often hear we should do, in it's various interpretations.

But the other day, as my kids made cakes and bears and stars and rockets in the afternoon sun, I thought about these things in relation to us- to our family.

Having these four children has been immeasurably significant to our lives.  So Grace, Patience, Lily, and Hudson, I'm writing this to you, not anyone else-



Loving you saved me from my self more than almost anything I've experienced.  It has been a messy road.  You have been gracious with me.  You are not an inconvenience- you're the best thing that possibly could have happened to your dad and I immediately after getting married.  You have forced us to tear away the ridiculous things we could have gotten caught up in, and to live centered on things that really matter.  God makes me more like Him when I daily live with you, and serve you when it's easy and when I'm at the end of myself.



Getting to the end of myself is exactly what God had in mind when he made me your mother, and I'm incredibly grateful for it.



And what's more- you are incredible.  You are amazing.  You are hilarious, and you keep me alert.  Awake.
You are a mirror into my own depravity and a window into exactly who I want to be when I grow up.



You are not ever a mistake.  Never a waste of time.  Never a barrier to effective ministry.  You make me more into the woman I was created to be.  Losing my self as your mother has been a bright, warm invitation into finding myself.  Loving you liberated me.

I can't imagine much that could take me closer to the heart of God than being your mother.

8:20.

This morning I woke up,
on this morning halfway through our
Spring Break,
to find snow everywhere outside.
Not surprising, since it's been so cold
for days now.
Last weekend I actually had to promise
our African friends that it would eventually get
hot and they would eventually get to go outside in
flip flops.

Then, though my morning started
quiet and full of coffee as usual,
things got a little rocky.

Well, see, Hudson's Pull Up was on funny,
so it leaked overnight, and I needed to wash his bedding.
And then someone woke up early with quite a bit
of business to take care of in the bathroom,
leading to the use of way too much toilet paper.
Then, of course, the next riser used the same bathroom,
and seeing that the toilet would not flush, proceeded to do
the only logical thing- flush it over and over and over,
causing a disgusting overflow, which was then brought to my attention
at once.

The cat followed me around as I cleaned and disinfected,
concerned because I did not clean out her litter box
immediately at breakfast, which she, well,
demands that I do, or else I'll hear about it
to no end.

The dogs, too, constantly whined at me as I worked,
dying to get out of their kennel for a much-needed
trip to the backyard and then breakfast.

I threw out the last of the paper towels, about to
wash my hands when I noticed our kitchen
trash can was overflowing with sticky banana peels
and all kinds of other things.
So I postponed the hand-cleaning and took that out too.

All this by 8:20 AM.

The rest of the day has been generally pleasant and productive.
It's been full of little obligations, and other work to do,
and lots of tea and coffee and a really good orange
and conversations with people in Africa, and
the girls called their Grandma and they sounded adorable,
and there was lots of reading to my kids and a few funny things
that made them laugh at me out loud (in a good way).

But that first bit of the day, I admit, had me worried.

And because I hate to post without a picture, if I can help it....

I pulled this shot out of my bag of tricks for my HS class today. I thought it was nice.  I think I've blogged it before.  I don't care.  Peace out.

More Aging.

Grace is getting really old.  Patie is doing lots of "old" things just like Grace is, but, she still has a rounded baby sweetness about her.  Grace, however, just a year and a half ahead, is just looking very, very old- all tall and proper- and she tries so hard to be mature, too.  She reminds me so much of Meg in Little Women-  and so it's fitting that Meg's pet name, and Grace's middle name (Daisy), are the same.

A few weeks ago our coffee maker started acting wonky, not staying on to brew, etc., so we had to replace it.  It was great, and it brewed pre-dawn coffee for us faithfully for 4 years.  The time has flown by.  It seems like only yesterday I was pulling that beautiful Cuisinart machine out of it's box.

We replaced it with this one- and I have to say- having the thermal carafe turns out to be a really, really good thing.  I was always doubtful as to it's necessity, but now that we've seen the light, we'll never turn back.

We left Target, and as we drove away I told Grace that if this coffee maker lasts as long as our old one, she'll be almost twelve before we replace it. 

This amazed her.  And me.

When You Grow Up

originally posted 1.27.10
..............................................................

I've encountered a staggering amount of cynicism, hopelessness, and pain this week. Not in our lives, but in the lives of others that seem to be colliding all around me. And children, your mother is reflecting today. Just sitting in it. And trying to breathe, and weave some sense.

You are always talking about what you'll be and do when you grow up.

So many parents say, "I don't care what you do, as long as you're happy."

And they aren't telling the truth. But we can talk about that another day.

You know what I always tell you- that no matter what you do today, tomorrow, or in 30 years- I want you to, in every moment, be in the place of mission, purpose and heart that God wants for you. And if you're living every moment with Him, you won't just "be" one thing "someday". You'll be His- now and always- and life will never, ever be a series of simple labels for identity. Life with Him is a constant adventure, with peaks and valleys, shades of gray and peace in the rain and shine.

That's what I mean- but all I say is, "No matter what you do, no matter where you live, no matter how much I want you close, no matter what it means for you- Be right there with Jesus." And you usually complete my sentence for me. Believe me, I need to hear myself say it, just as much I want you to know it. I still need to know it better for myself.

And while I'm at it, here's more of what I want for you.

I want you to be present and open, not disconnected and "safe". Be awake. Be present. Listen first, and speak without fear.

I want you to create. In a thousand ways. With words, art, science, your text messages, the way you do dishes, how you buy your groceries, the ways you relate to others, how you see the world- and what you do about it. Be creative. Do a new thing.

I want you to stand firm in convictions- but stay flexible and willing to be formed.

I want you to live free, and out of the boxes the world places you in, and live real, not covered in facades and striving for the fulfillment of empty expectations.

Don't be afraid to say No. Don't be afraid to say Yes.

I want you full of love, compassion and peace, to bring healing and fresh life, to live rightly, compelled by the Living God- not full of rules, checklists, and man-conceived laws of "good" and "bad". Live closely pressed to the chest of God, discerning, listening, thinking, with patience to wait for answers- not hungry for new laws of what is OK, and what's off limits. Know the peace of absolute truth- and the freedom that lives within it.

I want you to live in the midst of reality- to live a life close to God, not afraid to push into the real, messy, complicated world- not satisfied to stay neatly cornered off from the rest.

I want you to be a gift to the ones you meet. A real, honest-to-goodness Godsend.

And I want you to be happy.

Happy in God.

A Letter from Zambia

Grace, Patience, Lily, and Hudson-

Kids, I miss you so much tonight that my heart hurts.  I can't talk to you, so I will write you a letter instead.

My trip here was very, very long.  The only thing that will get me back on an airplane next is the hope that you and Daddy will be there when I get home.

I've seen lots of people who speak many different languages.  I flew near the Sahara Desert, and we flew by Mount Kilimanjaro.  Ethiopia was beautiful, and it had trees FULL of purple flowers!  I went to Zimbabwe too, and it was very, very green.  When I was there, there was only one country between me and the Indian Ocean- do you know which one it was?

I flew all the way across the Atlantic Ocean- and I've missed you every minute I've been gone.

The grasshoppers here in Zambia are very colorful, and they like to flip backwards!  I took a bath with a big snail tonight- and the children here in Zambia are beautiful, just like you.

I can't wait to be with you again.  I love you!

Love,
Mom

Patie Cakes

I call her that.   Patie, I mean.  I call her Patie Cakes.  Every day or so.  Because people don't know just from reading, if you don't know us, you know, in real life, it's Patie.  Like Katie.  With a "P".

So here's what happened a couple of days before Patie's birthday.

Mom: "What kind of cake do you want for your birthday, Patie Belle?"
(I call her that, too, btw.  She has a lot of names.  That one actually really makes sense- her name is Patience Isobel.)

Patience: "I want cupcakes- with sprinkles."

Mom: "Whatever you want, birthday girl!"

So we made marble cupcakes with vanilla butter cream and lots of sprinkles.

And on her birthday morning, as we stood at the counter finishing up the cakes, I say, "Patie, these were a really good idea."

And she says, "I knew they would be easier for you to make than a cake."

I gasped a little in surprise, "Patie!  You can pick whatever you want for your birthday!  Mommy doesn't mind making you a bigger cake."

She replies, nonchalant, "It's OK.  I like cupcakes, and I haven't had any for a while."

No biggie. 

That's Patie.