For the One who gives breath...

Today, first Saturday after Thanksgiving, as tradition holds, we headed to the tree farm.  It isn't always the same one...the tree farm, but it's always a farm and never a lot, a tree lot that is.

The drive was winding and swerving through the hills of North Plains, several miles from where we lived.  Forests and fields filled these soft farmlands with familiar comfort and majestic awe.  I always love this drive and love the fact that its only minutes from our home, close enough to regard it as home.

The air was stiff with chill and we were still recovering from below freezing temps from the days prior.  We finally landed to our destination and all filed out with hand saw and bundles of coats, jackets, and hats.

But this particular day, I wondered if I had bundled them tightly enough.  The poles seemed to squeeze more tightly upon us, and I realized why I never got into snow skiing.  By the way, I love to water ski and basically "popped" up upon my first try...at least that's what I remember.  But I wondered if I ever would take up snow skiing...ahh, I'm reminded now.

And on this particular day, Gabriel skipped along the path and then stopped short in his step.  He searched around and realized the air around him had seemed a bit lower and a bit heavier than he remembered.  And he noticed something he had never noticed before.

Then I giggled to myself as I marveled over his marvel.  In his pause, Gabriel gasped and blew out...gasped and blew out...then wide eyes watched what floated gently from between his lips.  Soft puffs of white streamed sweetly and dissipated magically away.

Ahh...Gabriel had discovered his breath.  And, I, in that moment, gave thanks for the One who gave him his very breath.

.

Runaway

Well, I almost did, but I didn't, but I threatened to...


Ok, I threatened to run away tonight.  Yes, run away.  No, I'm not a feisty, rebellious teen bucking rules, order, and everything "parent".  I'm a 41 year old  SAHM.(Stay at home mommy)  No, I'm not hormonal, at least not right now.  And, no, I'm not in any danger, threat, or duress.  I've just had it to here. (pointing my arms above my head)...


Ok, I realize my threat was idle, but it was there.  I just needed a break...and a girl needs a little appreciation.


See, I can talk about it right now because my wise and peace-making husband can diffuse any of my myriad of emotions.


So, here's what happened...


I've got it all planned out.  By the way, I'm a planner, an organizer, and my pantries and linen closet are the organization gestapo.   That gives you a flavor of the OCD tendencies I've prayed, agonized, and wrestled with.  And, now I've actually come to terms with this shortcoming and have embraced it with zeal...


So, in character, I've decided to plan Advent events for the family for the next month.  The first one began today.  With tradition, we loaded the Suburban (that doesn't seem big enough for my brood of boys) with matching button down shirts, cameras (three of them), tripods, snacks, books, balls, and boys.  Off to the Pittock Mansion for our annual Christmas picture session in picturesque Pittock nestled in the Northwest valley with the winding Willamette below.   Ahh, doesn't that sound so Norman Rockwell?


Little did I know...with all that we brought, we also tucked in some grumble, complaint, and nag.


"Mommy, are we done yet?"


"How long will this take?"


"I don't look good in this shirt!"  "I'm hungry!!"(By the way, they're always hungry; they're boys.)


"My feet hurt!"  "My nose itches."  "But we just took 30 pictures."  "Do I have to?"


So, here we are taking happy? pictures....you get the picture.  If you have a household of children, you've probably experienced a scene like ours.  If not, tell me how you do it:)


So, at the end of our jaunt, I calmly and stoically announced to my dear, sympathetic husband that I was running away.


"Running away?" he asked.  "From what?"


"Oh, my love, I think you know."


We bantered back and forth about the pros and cons of me running away.  He finally convinced me that I could, if I wanted to...


...and so I did.  I ran away for the night...into the other room, my office.


I had a lovely evening.   And reflected on the sweet moments we had at Pittock tonight.


I love my boys, my husband...and wouldn't dream of being anywhere else right now but home.





No other place, but home

Soli Deo Gloria...

Thanksgiving #40 Thanksgiving Day


               Soli Deo Gloria...For the glory of God, His Glory Alone.  I am humbled, awed, and grateful.

"Enter the Lord's gates with Thanksgiving and His courts with praise; give thanks to Him and Praise His name. For the Lord is good and His love endures forever; His faithfulness continues through all generations."  Psalm 100:4-5

For life that beats within...

Thanksgiving #39 Thanksgiving Day

           One of the greatest honors man or more specific...woman bears is the honor of participating in God's mightiest and marvelous miracle...that of bearing new life.  I can't help but marvel tonight when I saw Grace, my beautiful sister-in-law, bear that little life within her tiny frame.  A separate heart and mind that beats and thinks apart from her, the very one who carries her.  That's right, that little one is a precious baby girl.  She'll arrive and make her debut in January.  How amazing is God' amazement, how marvelous His marvel.  I'm grateful for the life that beats within Grace.

For the hope of eternity...

Thanksgiving #38 Thanksgiving Day

                Have I stood in the presence of Light to only see the depravity of my dark?  Have I seen truth in its fullness to sense its stark contrast from lie?  Have you felt the depth of another's care against the depth of being alone?  It's these deep contrasts that allow us to sense what life is felt on this side of heaven.  For as long as we walk on this side of heaven we will always have the contrast of being on this side of heaven...until one day we will fully know the fullness of residing within.  I am grateful for the hope of eternity that rests only within the ONE that gives it.

For best buddies in baby and brother...

Thanksgiving #37 Thanksgiving Day

             Eats and more eats, feating and more feasting...and yes, fellowship and drawing close to those near and dear to you.  I'm in the kitchen deep in preparation for our Thanksgiving feast... confidant and secure in knowing and seeing my youngest confidant and secure in the care of our Sweet Sam.  He always was and is nurturing, patient, kind, and protective over his lil' brother G.  He follows his baby brother around like a pama bear over his cub.  He plays and entertains him with a daddy's love.  If I've never uttered a word of thanks for this sweetness between two brothers, I've felt it and known it from the very beginning of their beginning.  Oh, dear Jesus, I am grateful You gave best friends in the same family.

For the example of the 12 year old Jesus....

Thanksgiving #36

                 Raising a teen is not the easiest.  Yet with its challenge and hurdles, it has to be one of the most rewarding and blessed times of parenting.  You see the culmination of heart and effort and nurture in the makings of this young boy through his speech and deeds.  Oh, yes, he challenges and bucks and may even gripe a bit here and there, but he is beginning to test his wings.  He wasn't meant for flight on his parents' wings but his own.  Getting from here to there is filled with stretching, growth pains, and sometimes heart ache.

I'm so grateful for the example that Jesus left when he started marking his destiny, his own flight when He was only 12 years old.  At that time, He went to Jerusalem to observe the Passover Feast with His parents, as He did each year prior.  When it was time to leave, He stayed behind.  When Joseph, his earthly father, and Mary, his mother, came back to search for him.  He reminded them that shouldn't He be found in His Father's house.

But isn't Joseph His father?  Of coarse, Jesus in that moment, was marking his departure from his parents, yet still with grace, love, and honor for His parents.  Jesus claimed to be in His Father's house, yet knowing his earthly father to be Joseph.  Joseph and Mary might have been hurt at Jesus' response, but they knew He was beginning His flight for his own ministry on earth.

Just as my son has...

As He stakes out to claim what is his...his own walk, his own story...his own flight...as a mommy I'll commit to continue to stand beside and beneath him.  But now, he must go before me...

He's taking flight.  I'll love him all the while.  I'm grateful for the example our Lord left us to encourage hope during this time of parenting.