flowers, and chocolates, and stuffties, oh my...

As a younger, single girl Valentine's Day was a dark and dreaded day.  Full of anxiety, depression, my cousin Jennifer, and A LOT of Ben and Jerry's.  Now, as an older, married mom, Valentine's Day is pretty much any other day, but with chocolate.  This has me wondering... Is Valentine's Day more horrid for singles, than it is joyous for couples?

Oh the agony of my single days... watching girls get their bouquets as big as their desks, wearing their low cut red sweaters gushing about the romantic plans their sig-oth had made for them that night.  The chocolates, the stuffed animals, the cards as big as my head.  It seemed every girl attached to someone was walking in front of me purposefully, to flaunt the fact that they wouldn't be sitting alone with a sappy movie and a pint of Ben and Jerry's that evening.  My cousin Jennifer and I would sit on the couch and shove our faces, glad to not have to be all alone on this day.  It was as if the whole day existed just to make me feel like I was alone.  And i did.  I felt alone.  I would dream of the romantic relationships I should have been in.  Breakfast in bed with a single red rose, and heart shaped toast.  Another single rose on the way out the door.  At work a big box of chocolates and a mushy love note would be waiting for me at my desk.  At lunch a balloon delivery.  In the afternoon a flower delivery so big with sweet poetry etched on the delivery card.  And a pick-up in a limousine to a fancy french dinner, where the nameless faceless romantic man stood with another single rose.  He would order for me, and whisper sweet nothings to me all night.  The night would end in front of the fireplace with a sweet kiss, and as a gentleman he would leave, after he drew me a hot candlelight bubble bath.  I would need a place to reflect on my romantic day alone after he left...

I have been on the earth for 28 Valentine's Days... and there is one thing  know for sure.  NO ONE has ever had a Valentine's Day like this.  This man, he doesn't even exist.  And if he did.  I wouldn't be with him.  You think I would actually allow someone else to order my meal and control every aspect of my day?  Not this girl.

But on Valentine's Day that is where my head and heart would drift, and I would wallow in the fact that I didn't have this man.  On that day, it would seem as if I would be alone forever.

I listened to the chit chat around the office yesterday.  Two flower deliveries.  Just Two.  The couples at work didn't have plans.  We all hoped for a card, or stepped out at lunch to buy a card.  But the singles, they felt more.  Wisecracks and jokes and self pity abounded.  Single's Awareness Day indeed.  They wallowed in the fact they would go home alone, and eat frozen pizza.  They were wishing they had someone to open a card from.  The only chocolate they would receive was if they bought it on the way home.  And I knew just how they felt.  Because I have been there.  I have felt that lonely sting of pain on Valentine's Day.  It would appear every now and again, but never as strongly as it did on Valentine's Day.

The ideals changed the moment I had Matthew.  I was no longer alone.  I didn't have to feel the sting of pain on Valentine's Day.  We exchanged cards that first year, and a bottle of champagne.  No fancy dinner, no flowers, no limousine.  Every year since has been the same thing.  It isn't an important day anymore.  It is just another day.  Another day to tell him I love him.  Another day for him to tell me the same.

The power of Valentine's Day died once I had Matthew.  Because I already had the prize.  It wasn't about the romantic gestures, or the importance of the day.  It wasn't about the flowers or the chocolates or the stuffed animals.  It was just a day.  I didn't feel alone on Valentine's Day, but I didn't particularly feel anything on Valentine's Day.  It is not because I don't love Matthew.  It is not because I don't like the occasional romantic gesture.  It was just because, on this day I didn't have to be reminded that I had no one.  And it didn't matter if the someone I had bought me anything at all... because I had someone.  I had someone who chose to love me, not just on this day, but on everyday of the year.  He worked hard for me.  He sacrificed for me.  He bought me chocolate once a month, when I was sad and cranky and craving it.  He wrote me a note every so often, just to say "I love you".  He hugged me and kissed me and told me I was beautiful each and every day.  I had someone on Valentine's Day, but I had someone on every day, so Valentine's Day didn't matter anymore.

Valentine's Day exists for lovers.  But ask most a lover, this day doesn't matter much to them.  So, then who is Valentine's for?  A dreaded day the world over by singles everywhere.  I could almost guarantee that there are more people dreading the day, feeling bad about the day, wishing the day would just end; than there is people celebrating the importance of the day, reveling in the day, wishing every day was Valentine's Day.

I can not remember a single significant event of Valentine's Days since I have been with Matthew.  But every year I think about what it felt like to be single on this day.  I remember the ice cream, and the movies, and the tears and freaking out.  I remember my cousin Jennifer.  Honestly, this day means more Jennifer to me than it does Matthew.  I remember my single Valentine's more than my lover Valentine's.

Because, if you have someone, every day is Valentine's Day- a day you are not alone.  It seems Valentine's Day really is Single Awareness Day; it exits more for them than for us.

Happy Valentine's Day to my true Valentine, I Love you Jennifer Lynn. 

oh... and Happy Valentine's Day to you too Matthew.  I love you.  You made my dreams come true.

2 little things...

first...
the amount of love i have for all of you is UNBELIEVABLE.  so much encouragement, support, love and prayers, from strangers a world away... i am humbled, touched, and so joyous, to have you all here.

second...
the weird changes google has made left this little blog a little confused.  it somehow became associated with my husbands email address and not mine.  NUMEROUS attempts to have google or blogger help me work out the kinks, with no response has left me to do it myself. and i am working out the kinks (and pulling out my hair and using lots of 4 letter words), but for now- just ignore the fact that all previous posts say that they were written by Matthew Boucher.  they were written by me.  GOOGLE has made my list. and you know what list that it.  

ding dong...

i had just finished a rewarding pilates for abs workout, and endured an 18 month old who thought it was hilarious to sit on my face while i was on the floor grunting and breathing like a crazy person trying to survive the pilate's for abs workout; when my parents called.  they wondered if they could stop by in a few minutes, they had a package for asher. 

i of course said yes, and quickly dived into the the shower while matthew picked up a living room full of baby toys.

they arrived and mostly ignored matthew and i while they doted on and laughed at sweet-and-yet-oh-so-naughty asher boy.  then the tides turned.  my dad had jumped on the computer to tell us about his new discoveries on ancestry.com. (snore, bore, ick, no thanks...) and then he tried to open my blog to read the latest entry.  his face got very serious and he looked at me cow eyed, "sis, are you done writing?"

"what are you talking about?"  i snapped back.  i snap a lot, one of my many downfalls. 

"put on love.  are you done writing?" 

i instantly felt defensive and lost, like i had brought home a C on my report card and was sure it was because the teacher hated me and not because i just didn't work hard enough.  but how would i explain that this C wasn't my fault to my parents... "when would i do that?  i have no free time!"  he was saying something to try to keep my emotions neutral, but i couldn't hear him.  my emotions had already been thrown into a whirlwind.  my emotions whirl a lot, another one of my many downfalls.  "i'm a little busy, with a husband, and a son, and working full time, and going to school, and babysitting, and trying to keep up with the house.  i don't even have time to do all that... when did you want me to fit writing a blog in there?" 

he looked at me concerned, and not angry at all with my little bit of a tizzy i just threw for no reason.  "i just miss it, that's all."  and he turned his body away from the overly emotional daughter and back towards ancestry.com, probably afraid i would blow up into a million pieces at any moment. 

and i sulked.  because, the truth is, i could find the time if i really wanted to.  i sulked, because i kind of missed it myself.  i sulked.  because, truth is, i just feel so damn overwhelmed all the time.  and i wonder why other working moms don't feel this way.  i wonder why i never hear anybody else talk about hating to drop their kids off at daycare, and crying in the car on the way to work at least once a week.  i wonder why i don't hear about other moms failing to hold themselves together at a simple question from someone who loves them.  i wonder why i don't hear about other moms forgetting to pay the electric bill.  i wonder why i don't hear other moms talking about feeling completely lost.  i wonder why i fail at this everyday, and it seems everyone else can do it with ease. 

and then 2 days later asher throws his first public tantrum.  i mean HUGE tantrum.  fists flying, feet stomping, alligator tears falling, and the wailing... oh my.  until i tried to make him take a step.  then he was flailing and screaming and crying in the middle of the street.  THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET.  and i became that mom.  you know, that mom with the kid that throws tantrums in public places.  and i instantly hated myself for all the times i gave that mom a dirty look and wondered why she couldn't control her kid.  and i instantly hated myself for having to put him in daycare. because you know, every problem that a child has must be a direct result of being in daycare and not home with his mom. (this is of course not true, but this is what people will imply, and this is just another thing that working mom's can add to their guilt ridden worrying mind. as if they don't have enough to blame themselves for and worry about.)  and i dragged him into daycare, kicking and screaming and crying.  and the stares, oh the stares.  from the kids, from the providers, from God himself.  "he's mad.  he's throwing a little tantrum.  i think we've entered the terrible two's."  i giggled an akward giggle, but mostly felt embarrased and ashamed.  i passed him off and ran to my car where i cried the whole way to work.

i am a hot mess.  i am a frantic, harried, lost, mess.  but i have love.  i love asher, he loves me (at least i think he does).  i love matthew, he loves me.  i have family that loves me, and allows me to snap at them and just shrugs it off when i do.  i have money to buy groceries, and a roof over my head.  i sometimes have money to buy new shoes.  i have a job in an economy when many do not.  i have the ability and freedom to go to school; to make my dreams a relaity, to learn.  i am blessed.  i am imperfect, but i am blessed. 

and i couldn't keep my dad's voice out of my head, "are you done writing?... i just miss it, that's all..."       

and then i remembered the community i feel when i blog.  i remembered the free form of therapy that putting the words on paper (or screen) is.  and i realize, i need this blog.  the world may not need me to blog, but i need to blog to be a sane part of the world. 

so, here it is dad.  worthless crap of writing, from your snappy overemotional daughter.  but i am still writing.  put on love hasn't died yet.

the top, and the bottom...

Idea stolen from my dear mother in law, Donna.

My tree is yet to be put up, all my decorations are still freezing in the garage, and I have not made a single cookie.  I am a little afraid that my attempts at keeping this Christmas really about Christmas will fail once I begin admitting that it really is the season for celebration.  But that target lady that I adore has reappeared on the TV, and it is snowing yet again.  It's undeniable, Christmas is here.  

Since getting a tree today is out of the question, and I have studying and schoolwork to do rather than baking or decorating... I will celebrate by watching movies, and by sharing with you my top 10 Christmas Movies.

Melinda's Top Ten Christmas Movies:

10.   Miracle on 34th Street - I adore the sweetness and innocence of this movie.  My brother and I always watched this with my mom as we put up decorations the day after Thanksgiving.  I love that sweet Santa, and the mutual adoration between him and Natalie Wood.  I don't believe in Santa, and never did but still this is a timeless classic.

9.    The Family Man - This is not just a Christmas movie to me, I will watch it anytime of year.  I like these types of movies where people can get a glimpse of what their life could have been.  My heart melts when the sweet little girl looks at Nicolas Cage after thinking that he had her daddy had been replaced by an alien and says, "I knew you'd come back."  I love the theme of love and family,  I love how he changes, and I love how they always "choose us."

8.    Prancer - I am not sure if everyone knows about Prancer.  I have loved this movie since I was a little girl.  About a little girl who believes she finds the reindeer Prancer injured in the woods, and hides him in her father's shed and nurses him back to health.  She is lost and feels very alone, without her mother around. In saving Prancer, she also ends up saving her broken family.  This low budget 80's movie is slow moving and not a strikingly made movie, but it moves me to tears.

 
 

7.     The Santa Clause - This movie is silly and sweet and heartbreaking and sweet again. It was obviously made for Children and clearly lacks cinematic brilliance. But I laugh and laugh at this movie every year. "Does this look like a little weight to you?" I recently watched this move with some young children who had never seen it before, they were less than amused, which makes me think this movie will lack staying power. But as long as it's here, it is in my top.

6.    Love Actually - This is another movie that I don't just watch at Christmas time.  It is rated R, and has every reason to be so rated.  But movie ratings rarely bother me.  It is about Love of all kinds, between friends, between family, between spouses, secret love, unrequited love, puppy love, new love, lasting love, and some sex thrown in there for good measure.  It has some of my favorite people in it; Alan Rickman, Colin Firth, Hugh Grant, Liam Neeson, Emma Thompson.  It is British, and funny, and moving, and heartbreaking.  Lots of mini stories all intertwined, it is exactly the kind of movie I like.  Great at Anytime of year.

5.    The Muppet Christmas Carol - We all know A Christmas Carol has been done a million times, by nearly everyone and everything under the sun. This is BY FAR my favorite version. It is sweet and funny and moving. I will laugh, and sing a-long, and tear up not just once. Rizzo and Gonzo are hilarious narrators, and Michael Caine is an excellent Ebenezer Scrooge. I jumped for joy when I finally found this on DVD, after years of watching it recorded to VHS from TV.






4.    The Small One - Don't even get me started, I am weeping already just thinking about this animated Disney short film.  Based on a children's book by Charles Tazewell, it is a sweet story of a boy and his donkey, small one.  Small One can no longer carry his weight as a work horse, and must be sold.  The boy travels into the neighboring town of Nazareth to try sell his donkey to a good home.  The only one who has any interest is the town tanner, and he is almost ready to give him up, when another opportunity arises.  The boy sells sweet Small One to a man looking for something to carry his very pregnant wife back to Bethlehem.  The boy watches Mary, Joseph, and Small One walk off toward a shining star in the distance.  I am crying right now, I am not going to lie to you.  If you have not seen this, you really must watch it, you can find it on youtube.

The Top 3 could really be a 3 way tie, but I put them in an order... don't hate.

3.    Home Alone - No Christmas is complete without at least 2 viewings of Home Alone.  On a side note, this soundtrack runs though my head NON-STOP ALL YEAR LONG.  I drive my co-workers crazy humming and singing Home Alone every day.  This is easily the most quoted movie in my arsenal, and I wish I could watch it all year long (for some reason I don't feel comfortable watching it all year as I do some others on this list, although I have been known to make exceptions).  I believe this movie will stand the test of time, unlike other movies in its era.  And I can not wait to introduce it to Asher someday.  I will pass on the 2nd and 3rd and 24th.  

2.    White Christmas - I have already watched this once this year and will most assuredly watch it again.  This was my mom's favorite movie from her favorite holiday and her favorite time of year.  We grew up watching it A LOT.  We watched lots of musicals, and this and Sound of Music reign supreme in my book.  I love all of this movie from beginning to end, save one dance number in the show (you all know which one it is, because everyone I know dislikes the same one).  I love to hear Bing, he is at the top of my Christmas music love.  He and Danny are so funny and cute.  Rosemary Clooney, when she sings "Love, You Didn't Do Right By Me". Oh my lands, I die.  Beautiful.  And that Vera-Ellen sure could dance couldn't she, and had the tiniest waist I have ever seen.  I love everything about this movie and will watch it over and over again every year until I am no longer blessed with life on this earth.

1.    It's A Wonderful Life - This is probably my daddy's favorite movie of all time.  Every year since as long as I can remember, he made us watch it with him armed with a bowl of super buttery popcorn and a hand made by dad milkshake.  When I was younger, I suffered through it.  At some point in my history, I think I was probably in high school, I watched it, and felt something completely different than the boredom and confusion I had previously felt.  I laughed when I was supposed to, and I cried when others did, and I fell in love with Jimmy Stewart and I adored every moment of the movie.  I have watched it every year since, and I laugh and cry and I am moved beyond measure.  I love the authentic relationships.  I adore the scene when George is talking to his dad, the last conversation they ever have.  I love George and Mary's honeymoon.  I love how George is like the rest of us and forgets how loved and appreciated he is in day to day to life.  It is easy to forget how blessed we are.  And the end, oh the end.  "Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?"  "George Bailey, I'll love you 'til the day I die."  "I wish I had a million dollars... HOT DOG!"  "What is it you want, Mary? What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey. That's a pretty good idea. I'll give you the moon, Mary."


And the Runner's Up (While I love you, there was only room for 10 at the top):
A Charlie Brown Christmas (duh)
How the Grinch Stole Christmas (1966 TV)
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964 TV) 
Frosty The Snowman (1969 TV)
The Nativity Story (if you haven't seen this, watch it. It is Mary and Joseph's story and I loved it)
The Shop Around The Corner
Scrooged
Mr Magoo's Christmas Carol (1962 TV)
Heidi (Shilrey Temple--I'll take the colorized version of black and white)
The Holiday

And The Bottom 3 Christmas Movies (which so many Love, but I despise, in no particular order):
National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (ick)
The Christmas Story (gross)
Elf (gag)


So tell me, what Christmas Movies can you not wait to watch each year?  What Christmas movies do you despise that other love?


Bridget: You are such an encouragement and a light.  sometimes being wife and mom is hard isn't it?  but oh so worth it.
Shelby:  Thank You so much for making me feel like not such a putz. You gave me great ideas!
Donna:  I am a mess every single time I watch that darn thing.  It gets me to my core.
Axelle:  Dear friend, Your comments from a world away make my day.  We will try to cherish this Christmas as a fmaily together.  I would love your recipe!

advent...

[AC] Promo 2011 - International Justice Mission from Advent Conspiracy on Vimeo.



every year as Christmas approaches i find myself stressed out, unable to sleep, and a little sad.  it is the same thing every year.  money gets tighter, the pressure to get everyone gifts they will like weighs down, and i get stressed and grumpy.  i know i am not alone.  my daddy is stressed and grumpy every holiday season, has been my whole life.  (my daddy and i are also the ones who manage finances in our households, so this may have something to with it)  travel, family meals, gifts, holiday snacks, cold weather gear, the dollar amounts add up quickly.  some years i stress myself out so much leading up to Christmas, that by the time it actually arrives, i am physically ill.  i spend Christmas day in bed fighting off whatever illness decided to creep into my body during my vulnerability. 

this year i decided to combat that.  we decided to make gifts this year, spend less.  we decided to give.  we decided we would not let Christmas turn into a marketable holiday in our house.  not this year.  then money get tighter than usual, and even our cutting down and cutting back seemed like way too much.  and this morning... it happened.  i woke up with dreams of Christmas stress haunting my wakefulness, and a pit in my stomach.

what is it about the holidays that has this effect on me, and why can i not control myself from being sucked into the lies and stress of what Christmas has become.  i know the meaning for the season.  i had full intentions of remembering and honoring the reason for the season this year, and 1 day shy of advent, i find myself being sucked in.

the truth is, i care far too much of what other people think to not allow myself to get sucked in.  won't people think our handmade gifts this year are cheap and shallow compared to the large gifts we will receive?  but we have to have a big Christmas dinner, what would everyone think if i served frozen pizza on Christmas day?  what about those traditions that drain the bank, but make us feel warm and nostalgic every year?  i like to think that i worry little about what people think of me, and most of the year i can keep to that.  Christmas is the exception.  and i hate what this worldly Christmas makes me into, but i seem helpless to it's control over me. 

can this really be?  can i be so weak that i allow my Christmas to be perverted by the world?  can i be so easily influenced that i am willing to deny my own heart and desires to fulfill what the world expects of me?  it seems so... and this makes me feel even worse.  the pit in my stomach grows with every word i write, because i know this is true.  i know that my life is being influenced by the world far more than i ever would think possible.

yesterday as i was combing the internet searching for ways i can give of myself this holiday season in an effort to keep myself on track.  i found my way to the World Vision website, where i was browsing their Gift Catalog dreaming of giving a couple of goats and chickens to a family a world away that could change their life drastically.  and then on the side bar i saw it... sweet jose's face.  tears streamed down my face when i saw his face, and thought of all i had, and all he lacked.  a sweet little boy who's parent struggle to provide for him clean water and food, and who would love to provide and education for him if it was possible.  and i clicked that button as fast as i could for fear that someone else would want to sponsor this sweet boy who just tugged on my heart strings.

and today, i am going back to look at the picture of his sweet face, knowing that i may be providing for him in ways his family wished they could.  and as advent approaches, i am going to continue to look at his face each day, and remind myself of all that i have, and all that i can give.  i am going to concentrate on my own sweet family and the huge blessing they are to me.  i am going to be diligent about reading in the word.  i am going to pray and pray and pray.  i am going to do my darndest to not let this holiday season get the best of me.  i am going to be that person i always thought i was, strong, sure, and unfailing.  i will know and remember the true meaning of this Christmas, and i will try to live it over the next 26 days.

pray for me, pray for my heart, pray for my family, as we try to abstain from the commercial Christmas that the world is asking of us, and try to focus on the cradle and the cross, and love personified.


yes this video is almost the same.  just watch them both.

[AC] Promo 2011 from Advent Conspiracy on Vimeo.



sarah anne... thank you sweet cousin.  you are always such an encouragement and support.
bridget... did you get my email?  i sent you one 1 couple of weeks ago.
gina... thank you so much, hope your thanksgiving was fantastic.

this day...

Thanksgiving Day Blues

Norman Rockwell
November 28, 1942  Saturday Evening Post Cover


this is what i would look like if i had to make thanksgiving dinner, only my face wouldn't be quite so jovial.  and i would probably be screaming obscenities.   

this day i am thankful for lovely inlaws who will allow us to invade their home, turn it upside down, and cook for us while we are there.


Basting the Turkey
Joseph Christian Leyendecker


i love this picture.  look at this sweet little boy waiting by his mama, watching the turkey bake.  asher always likes to stay close to me while i cook.  and he loves to wait by the oven (mostly because i think he likes the adorable baby looking back at him)

this day i am thankful for my own sweet boy who challenges me and blesses me every single day. 





i am thankful for my family, and the wonderfully strong women that i am surrounded by, and encouraged through that are found there. 

this day i am thankful for getting to spend 2 days with my sweet cousin jennifer, and her two beautiful girls before the stomach flu robbed me of my last day with her.  i love you jen, i am so proud of who you have become.




i am thankful for this life.  the chance to live another day.  to live in a country far more blessed than most.  i am thankful for a day where i will be allowed to sit around a table with the ones i love in front of a bountiful feast and visit and laugh and love and give thanks.  i am thankful that i live where i can worship, praise, be thankful, to a God who knows and understands my heart. 

i am thankful for every day past.  i am thankful for this day.  i am thankful there will another. 

on this day, i am thankful.  on this day i give praise.

funky funky... funky funky... brace yourself as the beat hits ya, dip tip, flip fantasia...

i've been in a blog funk. 

for like a year and a half.

my mind is full of life and living... “But there it is — in the midst of life we are in death.”  do you know what this quote is from? i think it is brilliant.  and heartbreaking.  and true.  and telling of how my life has felt over the last year and a half.

and so, blogging does not always seem the right thing to do. 

writing is not coming easily.

i could write about my life and the death it is facing... but it is sad, and hard to write over and over.  how many times do people want to hear about my sick family, or my dear grandpa, and my miscarriage... it is hard to talk about, hard to write, hard to live... but that is what i am living.

i could write about poopy diapers and bumped heads and the constant struggle over what to make for dinner.  but who cares?  i am not inspired by poopy diapers or ramen noodles, so who else would be?  it is boring, and nondescript... but that is what i am living.

i am living my life, and as hard and lost as i may feel sometimes... i am loving my life.  but my life is far beyond ordinary, it is extraordinarily ordinary.  i am a simple girl, with simple desires; faith, family, love.  i love my little boy... i love my husband... i am learning to grow in my faith...  but this does not always translate easily or enjoyably to the page.

my station in life is being a mom and wife right now.  and just living.  and it doesn't leave much time for blogging, or writing, or even deep thinking.  if it is hard to think, it is hard to write...  and so i have been in a blog funk.  perhaps, all i have now is the livelihood i have become. i am.

“Is that quite fair, to deprive a man of his livelihood when he’s done nothing wrong? Your mother derives some satisfaction from her work at the hospital, I think, some sense of self worth? Would you really deny the same to poor old Molesley? And when you are master here, is the butler to be dismissed? Or the footmen? How many maids or kitchen staff will be allowed to stay, or must every one be driven out? We all have different parts to play, and we must all be allowed to play them.”

my part to play is a simple part.  not a leading roll.  i am more like a maid.  but i too have my part to play.  wife and mother and daughter and sister and employee and student and friend.  i wish i had the mind to write.  i wish i had the time...

but for now it appears, my role to play is just what it is... living as i am. 

and so my blog funk may continue.  and i will try not to discourage myself in it.  because, i believe i am serving a purpose, and playing the role i was meant to play right now.


ps... both of these quotes are from the same place. do you know where?  the names in the second should give it away.


emily... that is a lovely story and keepsake of your family!  ramona bean will treasure it in the future, as you treasure it now.
gina... thank you for the prayers, and just thank you!
donna... we are hoping he keeps this desire for the outdoors.  we both like to be outside, hopefully he will love camping with us in the future.
tiffany... thank you so much! i should mention, i photograph better than i look in real life.  asher is growing too fast, can i slow this down somehow?  you can call matt hot anyday. he won't mind.
rachel... thank you, we tried to get him to "moo" but mostly he just grunted.  i chopped it all off the middle of august.  i love it, matthew hates it.  cest la vie. 

D is for discipline...

An ordered life- one that honors God’s commandments, and sets aside time for Him, will see great blessing. It may not be the kind of blessing you’re thinking of- a new house, a fancy car, or freedom from any sickness or sadness. No, it’s a blessing far greater. Those that pursue Christ through the spiritual disciplines will see more and more of the greatest treasure of all - Jesus Himself! And while external circumstances may be difficult, you will have Christ Himself.



The Bible says in the Psalms, "I will praise you, O Lord my God, with all my heart; I will glorify your name forever." Well-known pastor John Piper said, "It is about the greatness of God, not the significance of man."


If through the spiritual disciplines God becomes greater and more significant- you are heading in the right direction! If through your spiritual practices you are compelled to worship Jesus Christ- you are getting there. If you are motivated to tell other people about Jesus, you are on the right track. Remember the goal of the spiritual disciplines is not discipline but to become more Christ-like, to worship more fully, and to help bring others into a relationship with our Lord Jesus. Nothing is better than that.

Luis Palau


I heard the end of this on the way to work the other day.  the last paragraph is what struck me (because that is all i heard in my frantic flipping of the radio stations, searching for music and not voice)  "Remember the goal of spiritual disciplines is not discipline but to become more Christ-like, to worship more fully, and to help bring others into a relationship with out Lord Jesus.  Nothing is better than that."  So often people equate christianity, or faith of any kind, to rules, regulations, and well... discipline.  But the purpose of spiritual discipline, is not discipline... it is to be more Christ-like.  to make God bigger and us smaller.  and in doing that we worship more fully and lead others to him.  you can find the short weekly series on discipline here.  and i advise you to... there is some good stuff in there.

he warns us against the extreme of legalism in our spiritual disciplines.  he  reminds us that discipline is a good character trait to have, but if that discipline is not leading us to love and serve others, than our discipline isn't serving a purpose.  he tells us to use the result of our discipline to share Christ with others.

i liked every part of this series, and think you would enjoy it too... so check it out.



while reading this series, my mind began to drift to the discipline of my own child, who is growing more naughty by the moment.  i know these things are not the same, the discipline of children, is far different from the spiritual discipline luis palau was speaking of... but my mind is nearly always consumed with thougths of my family (yes this is probably proof of my own lack of spiritual discipline, but let's pretend it doesn't).

asher knows the things he is not supposed to do, he understands when we say "no". 

and still there are moments when he heads toward that fireplace screen looking at me the whole way, waiting for me to react, because he knows he is not supposed to play with it.  and he stands an inch away with his hand outstretched smirking at me as if saying, "look at me, mom, what are you going to do?  i'm gonna touch it..."  and that little naughty face is so cute i want to just scoop him up and kiss him and set him back down to play with the fireplace screen. 

but i remember the reason for not allowing him to play with that fireplace screen.  the pointy scrolled iron edges of the screen could hurt him.  if he pulls the screen on top of himself he could hurt himself.  and if he dared to move it, he would find all the excitement and wonder of the fireplace itself, which could of course lead to DANGER.  so instead i tell him "no".  and watch him inch closer, not taking his eyes off of me.  and then i have to walk over and again tell him, "no" while standing between him and the screen.  and then he tries to reach around me again to grab that screen again.

and i remind myself that in disciplining him now, i am teaching him there are boundaries.  in disciplining him now, i am keeping him safe.  i am teaching him that he is not the boss, and i am.  i am teaching him that even though it doesn't seem like it, mommy does know best.  and i know in teaching him these things now, i will save myself years of strife, years of fights and rebellion, because he will understand that he doesn't make the rules, but i do.  and i make the rules because i only want what is best for him... and so i again in my sternest voice tell him "no." and when he chooses to ignore it, i again have to say, "no" and slap his little hand.  this may or may not cause tears.  it is sometimes followed by another attempt, and subsequently another slap on the hand.  and sometimes it is followed by a look of seriousness on his face, like maybe he understands. 

and i know there will be much harder things to come.  i know there will be more times i have to tell him "no", more times i have to slap his hand, or ground him, or keep him from playing with that friend who makes his attitude suck.  i will have to take away his favorite toy, i will have to sit him in the corner, i will have to talk to him over and over and over again... and i will have to remind myself, that this is a mean to an end.  that in disciplining him i am really helping him.  that in disciplining him i am making him a stronger, better, person to be.  i am doing this because it is what will make him into the best him he can be.

so i will continue to discipline him, now and as long as i can, so that someday, while he may be able to blame me for lots of other things in his life, he will not be able to say that i let him do whatever he wanted and that i didn't teach him boundaries enough.

tid-bits...

my grandma lives in michigan in the same town she has lived in her whole life.  she has lived in the same house for over 50 years. 

the upstairs of her house is filled with gems and family heirlooms.  she has begun going through some of the hidden treasures upstairs that have not been seen for years and years.  among them, she found this... her baby chair. 

and chose to give it to asher.  at first he wasn't so sure, he couldn't figure out how to crawl into it.  then he figured out how to stand on it and create his own amusement park ride rocking ti back and forth.  it had to be moved to the hallway, to the other side of the baby gate for a little while.  but now... he figured out how to get in and out of it, and he loves sitting in it and watching tv or playing.  i love that we have this little treasure of family history in our home.

the asher boy loves to be outside.  he would rather be outside than anywhere else.  when he frees himself from the confines of the baby-gated rooms, he goes and stands at the garage door gently tapping on it saying "go go go go go go." this is one of the only words he mumbles that you can understand.  the boy wants to go outside.

one reason we chose this house is because it is so close to the lake.  a quick walk down the hill and through the shaded walkway and we get to this playground.  a few steps more, and we are at the lake.  it really is a bummer they have drained the lake to try to get the zebra mussels under control and our lake has been near empty for the last 8 months... next spring it should be full and zebra mussel free.

asher loves to swing. he swings and swings and swings. and when you try to get him out to try a slide or to play in the sand. he screams and screams and walks straight back toward the swing.

   i love to be there with my family. 
 

by the looks of it, matthew does too.  he doesn't often smile this big, and never for a picture.
 

it's really too bad you can't just have a photographer follow you around in your everyday life.  but i can take a mean self portrait.

and then halloween came...

asher was a moo-cow. 
 

and the cutest little one you ever did see...

we trick or treated with darth vader.  and practiced sharing our toys.  neither was accomplished with out tears and screams.  we were so happy to have becky and paul and isaiah there to play with us.  thanks for trick or treating with us guys!

life continues, and i just wanted to share a few pictures of our life with you.

if you think about it... today... will you say a prayer for me.  a lot going on.  prayer is always needed, and felt across the miles.

uncle-ship...

what does it take to become an uncle?

is it blood, flesh and bone, DNA?  surely.  if you are a brother and your sibling has a child, you become an uncle.

but can it also be something else.

my uncle dan was there the day i was born.  before i was cleaned off, when i was still all gooey and squishy and disgusting, he held me.  it was the beginning. 

he and my dad met their first day at Grace University.  they were instant friends.  uncle dan may be my dad's most important friendship of his life.  after mom and dad got married, uncle dan ate dinner with them lots of nights.  they remained friends through many years, the closest of friends.  500 miles away or more, couldn't separate them.  he has been a constant encouragement and confidant to my dad for over 30 years.

he bought me my first pair of nike's, when i was just a babe.  when asher was born, he bought him a nike sweatsuit, to pay homage to my baby gift.

he says he let me eat ice cream cones and junk food when i was just a baby.  i know he must have.

he bought me my first barbie.  and to be correct, she was really a skipper.  he searched and searched for the barbie "without the bumps" (aka boobs) he didn't want me to get a complex from my doll playing.

he bought me kangaroo sneakers in kindergarten.  i thought they were the coolest.

when uncle dan got married, we were there.  aunt shelly was his perfect match.  he was so relieved when the pastor forgot to say "you may now kiss the bride".  and turned a million shades of red when he remembered and announced it again at the reception.

he used to own a champion auto parts store with his dad.  i remember going into the store and playing.  i thought i was so cool, marching back into his office, no one else roaming the aisles could just march back into his office.  i have a champion auto parts semi truck roaming around my parents somewhere, as well as several other champion toy cars.

i loved to play with his collection of kaleidoscopes.  i remember him working magic with a yo-yo.

he has always called my brother jesse, chester.  i don't even know why.  he calls him chester to this day, i still don't know why, but it warms my heart.  no one else in the world calls him chester.  just uncle dan.  that is just something special between them.

he traveled 500 miles to be there for my high school graduation.  it meant the world to me.

the day before i left for college, he gave me a $5 bill.  he warned me i was headed for a hard semester, a lonely semester, that i might feel lost and afraid.  aunt shelly kept asking him to stop scaring me.  his words were the most honest college advice i ever received.  he told me when i was feeling bad, and alone, and like i wanted to quit in those first couple days on campus to take that $5 and buy myself an ice cream cone.  that first lonely early evening at college, i drove myself to the ice cream parlor, crying the whole way, and bought myself a giant cone of butter pecan.  uncle dan knew exactly how i felt, he had been there before, and he told me the truth.  that ice cream cone was the best i ever had.

uncle dan is not my uncle by blood, or flesh and bone, or DNA.  but he is my family is every sense of the word.  becoming an uncle is far more than just a sibling having a child... it is love and dedication... it is something that lasts a lifetime.


last week uncle dan had a stroke.  at 51 years old.  with 2 girls away at college, with another daughter and son still at home.

when i saw the words, tears fell silently from my cheek.  not my uncle dan.  not my daddy's best friend.

his family is strong.  they learned to be stubborn from him.  but they are still feeling a little lost.  aunt shelly is always sure and in control... she is striving to remain that way, but finding it hard.

they have hope.  in a God who is the great physician.  in a God whom they can cast their worries upon.  they are praying mighty prayers, they are praying for the best... because they believe in a God who is big enough to answer their prayers, they believe in a God of miracles.  uncle dan helped shape them in this way.  it is from his leadership, his guidance, his faith, that they also have learned to believe.

this will be a very long journey for them.  danger will still lurke.  and i ask you to pray with me. 

PRAY BIG.  pray for a FULL HEALING for uncle dan.  pray for strength and for guidance for his family, and for the medical staff.  pray for clarity for aunt shelly in the coming days, as the shock fades.  pray for peace and comfort and little pain for him, and for the whole family.  pray that God be glorified through this, and every step in their lives.


he was with me in the hospital on that day i was born.  it was the beginning.  and now i will try to be there (in body, in spirit, in mind) with him in the hospital, in rehab, at home, in these days that are to come.  this will not be the end.

me and uncle dan on my wedding day.  (ignore my bat wing, i had gained a few pounds since i bought the dress, and this is an unflattering angle.) 


mommy gray:  thanks for reading!  we are blessed. 
sarah anne:  so is asher.  it is fun to watch.
cheryl:  you continue to be in my prayers.  thank you for sharing, i can say the same for asher.  i know i will always be so grateful for the love this daddy and boy share.

give me a break...

today i ate a kit-kat.  a mini kit-kat, okay fine... i ate 2 mini kit-kats, maybe 3.  and i was reminded of when i was a little girl. 

my entire life my dad had a secret stash of candy and goodies that he hid somewhere in the kitchen.  in fact, he still does.  he's got a sweet tooth.  i remember there being kit-kats hidden there in abundance.  when i was allowed to choose my own special treat, i always wanted a kit-kat and a mountain dew.  not because they were so delicious i couldn't help myself... but because that is what my daddy liked.  today i mostly hate mountain dew, and i enjoy a kit-kat as much as i enjoy most cohocoalte, moderately. (not to be confused with how i enjoy my mom's homemade double fudge brownies.  i would die for those.  other chocolate... is just okay)  back then, i just wanted what my daddy wanted. 

i wanted to be a michigan fan, because my daddy was a michigan fan.  i wanted to help collect offering at church, and i wanted to play basketball.

kids want to be like their daddy.  they want to eat their veggies so they grow up big and strong like their daddy.  they want to marry their mommy, just like daddy did.  they even want to eat kit-kat's like their daddy.  and when that unexpected 4 letter word slips out of their mouth, really they were just repeating what they heard daddy say. 

for better or worse.  a father's place in the family is irreplaceable.  and most of the time kids do grow up to be like their daddy, at least a little bit.

so in a couple years when asher always chooses a reese's or doritos for his special snack, when he picks his nose, and when he ignores me asking him to do something by turning the music up; i will shoot darts from my eyes in the way of matthew.

and in a couple years, when asher tells me i look pretty when i get home from work even when i don't; when he does the dishes just because he knows i hate to; and when he tells me he loves me whe i don't deserve it; i will look at matthew with nothing but love and adoration.

in this case, i think the better outweighs the worse.  in my case, i will be so blessed to have kids who want to be just like their daddy.

and in those moments when they are flicking boogers across the room or saying something just to get a rise out of me... i will break me off a piece of that kit-kat bar (from my own hidden goodie stash in the kitchen), and give myself a break because that is just what my daddy would do.


and now to copy my dear friend emily, who copied from someone else, who i am sure copied from someone else (that's the way great blog ideas work, ya know)... i will start replying to comments from the previous posts here.  you all are too important, and have such ovely things to say, you deserve your own spot on my blog...

mom... thanks, you are a little partial though.
beth in the city... thank you so much.  you are too right, it is so easy to judge ourselves the harshest, and i will take all the encouragement i can get.
jen.. i love you so much, and miss you every day.  funny how we can remember to teach our children things that are hard for us.  you would die if you saw our pumpkins, i scoured the patch for the 2 tiniest perfect pumpkins.  they are little and perfectly shaped.
gina... you are always such an encouragement to me.  thank you.  believe me, i have a ton still to learn, i can paint a pretty good picture of myself. ;)
jep... you are a blessing.  to me, to emma, to donna.  thank you so much for your kind words, your encouragement, and your prayers (and all those lovely crock pot recipes) 
donna... so blessed.

silver lining...

the sun does not always shine when you want it to.

sometimes it rains on the day we go to the pumpkin patch.


and on days when it seems to be too much, and you ask God for a reprieve, you instead...

wake up with a sore throat, a puffy eye, and a crying baby.

and when you get on the scale it shows a positive instead of a negative.

and then you pick up your car from the shop and it is still broke. 

and then you blow a tire on the way to daycare, and are super late for work.

and prospect of finding your dream job looks bleaker and bleaker.


and the bills keep piling up.


and your grandpa is still sick.  still dying. 

and your baby is sick again.  the dr finally admits this is not normal, leaving to you wonder.

and your husband has the same sore throat you do.  and the same problems you do.  and you wonder who's shoulder you will be able to fall apart on.


and all you wish is for the sun to shine.

that sun would shine and warm you from the outside in because in that moment, it seems like nothing else ever could.

but instead... when you look up there are clouds.  grey and heavy.  the skies agree with your mood.

and you are forced, to either wallow in the mud that the rain creates, or see the silver lining underneath. 

see that you are not alone.

that when you have no other shoulder to cry on, God gives you His.

He reminds you that He provides for you... it may take Him to the last minute, it may still mean you wait anxiously for that next paycheck to come, it may not be the way you want.  but He still provides.

He gives you a roof over your head.

2 working eyes, 2 ears, 2 arms, 2 legs.  a strong back, sturdy feet, hands that touch and feel and write.  he gives you breathe yet again.

and a husband who is alive to feel a sore throat.  a husband who works despite his sore throat to provide for you.

a job, while it may not be what you dream, while it may keep you away from home more than you desire... still helps to pay the bills when so many can not say the same.

and He gives you a sweet baby boy with slobbery open mouth kisses and pats on the back.

He gives you far more than most, much more than you deserve, and asks for nothing in return.

  

It is just so easy to recognize the tiny rain cloud over your own head.

it is so easy to wallow in your own pain.  it's so easy to forgot just how blessed you are.  

and this day... i choose not to.  i choose not to cry.  i choose not to be grumpy, or sad, or short tempered.  i choose to be grateful.  for all that He has given me.  so much more that many others.  much more than i deserve.

i choose to see that silver lining, that usually i find so easy to ignore.

    

our family...

(taken by donna boucher) here is asher the day he was born.  this is one of my favorite pictures of him.  i love how little he looks.  he was not a tiny baby. 7lbs 13oz 21in, but he seemed so little.  notice all my bracelets and my iv line.  this picture is my natural childbirth dream gone up in smoke.  i was still numb from the surgery when this picture was taken.  and really itchy, the morphine shot right into my spinal block line made me really itchy... i was sore and tired and sweating.  i was glowing.  i was on cloud.  i was so happy to have him safe in my arms.  for hours we looked at him and held him, running on adrenaline and love.  i didn't know then what was to come.

i loved laying with him after nursing in our lazy weeks at home after birth.  to me this was perfect.

my little bear last halloween.  he swung in his swing while he passed out candy.

we bundled him up while we went about our daily chores, working in the yard, and raking leaves.  we didn't mind him making life a little more difficult. he was worth it.

he made funny faces whenver we tried to get a good picture.

sometimes he looked like dom deluise.

he loved being outside.  we watched fireworks, and he was wowed.

he started eating people food, and loved corn on the cob.

and then he turned one.  (i know this picture is blury, but i love the look on his face).

we went to the zoo.  (this picture looks nothing like him, isn't it funny how pictures can do that sometimes)  and ate fish and chips.  he didn't know this day was a milestone.  he didn't care... but we sure did.

my life turned into his life.  babies do that.  it's what they call family.  i would rather be with my family than anywhere else on earth.  he would rather with his bear-bear and his pooh-pooh than anywhere else on earth.

sometimes he screamed and cried and threw fits... we were confused and didn't know what to do.  but, in time we learned.

my boys were not always amuzed with my my desire to document our life.  but someday they will thank me that they have millions of pictures of us throughout our life.

we thought we were teaching him.  but he was teaching us.  about growing, about love, about life.

we were no longer two.  we were three.  we were no longer a couple.  we were a family.  our lives changed.  drastically.  we had to be home by 7:30, so he could go to sleep.  going out was nearly an impossibility.  we missed our friends, we missed our lives.  but this new life was something extraordinary.  we learned, and we loved.

when i look at him now, it is unbelievable to believe that 14 months ago he was that tiny boy of wonder so tiny and so new.  how he has changed, how life has changed, how we have changed.  our life is new.  our life is full.  our life is not what we expected it to be.  our dreams of keeping life the same, our dreams of a perfect house and perfect jobs, have changed.  our dreams are now to keep the clutter off the counter enough to make dinner each night.  our dreams are to sleep in past 7 on the weekends, trying to keep the baby up late on friday night.  our dreams are to be family.  a family full of love and life.  our dreams are to watch asher grow, to not miss a day, a moment.  our dreams are to see who he becomes, praying we can do him right.  our dreams are for happiness, and the ability to pay bills, and a future together long and true.  our dreams are just to be.  to be a family.

"The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together."

Erma Bombeck

"The happiest moments of my life have been the few which I have passed at home in the bosom of my family."

Thomas Jefferson

"What greater thing is there for human souls than to feel that they are joined for life - to be with each other in silent unspeakable memories."

George Eliot

"Other things may change us, but we start and end with the family."

Anthony Brandt

dear grandpa...

may 8, 2010
grandpa and me


grandpa,

i am not sure if you can read this. and if you can, i am not sure you can understand.  but i am going to write to you like it is the old days, like nothing has changed.  it is the only thing i know how to do right now.  to write to you like this isn't happening.  to write to you like i wish i would have more.  to write to you like you were always so diligent in doing to me. 

do you know i love you grandpa?  i feel it every moment of every day, but i don't always say it.  i love you grandpa.  more than the sun and stars and the earth, i love you grandpa.  i love your bald head, and your laugh, and your black socks and sandals.  i love the way your eyes light up when you see your grandkids, your great grandkids.  i love how hard you work, how strong you hug, how you always drive the dumpy car and let grandma drive the nice one.  i love the way you love Christ.  i love the way you love me.  i love you grandpa forever and always, no matter where you are.

do you remember how you used to take us to the park to play, or to the hill to sled in the snow?  when mom and grandma were too busy, you always had the time.  to take us to the pool at cimmaron, to take us to the ball field, to take us to the park to run and swing.  i am sure it is because of you that in kindergarten when kevin was asked what he wanted to be when he grew up; he said he wanted to be a dad and take his kids to the park everyday.  thank you grandpa, for taking time out of your busy day to sit outside with us.  thank you for sacrificing your own time to make time for us.

i am sorry we kept you up every christmas eve, keeping you from sleep all those years.  i am sorry you had to come down into the basement in your underwear to yell at us to pipe down so many times.  and i am sorry for giggling again the second you shut the door.  thank you for letting us continue to come, thank you for inviting us again.

as a little girl i remember rifiling through your desk, counting your hundreds of pens.  we were always wanting to buy you new pens, to add to your collection.  and when we did, you thanked us whole heartedly.  we loved to play with your label maker, until we ran it out of ticker tape.  you would get a little mad, but it would quickly pass.  did you know that i love label makers to this day?  that making a label puts a heart in my song.  did you know i obsess over new pens, and to make my day, all it takes is a notebook and a new pack of pens?  it dates back to the days of playing in your desk, it's because it brings me memories of you.

i used to think you were king of the world, running the church library.  how proud i was of you.  "my grandpa is the librarian, you know?"  i would say, as if labeling and knowledge of the dewey decimal system made you the most important man in the world.  seeing you with a book always in your hand.  reading your recomendations, and telling you about the stories i read.  watching you helped me love reading.  and reading made me want to write.  you always read along with me, and read what i wrote.  and you enouraged me.  you and grandma both.  helped shape such a big part of me.  thank you grandpa.  thank you for reading, and trips to the library, and for encouraging me to read.  thank you for reading those silly stories and poetry i wrote as a child, and for encouraging and believing in me.  i used to dream of owning a bookstore with you.  there could not be a more ideal setting, you and me and a room full of books.  everything would be just as it should be. 

i used to be afraid of you.  did you know that grandpa?  i was.  when i was a little bitty girl and we didn't live 3 streets over; to me you seemed like a big, mean, giant, hovering over me without a smile for anyone.  as a child your dry sense of humor, your seriousness, your large demeanor, was very intimidating.  as i grew i saw the smile behind your straight lips and furrowed eyes.  as i grew, i saw a rough exterior, leathered from years of work and a life harder than most, hiding a beautiful soul, a gentle soul, a true gentle giant of a man.  a gentle giant of a man i couldn't have been happier to have as my grandpa.

whenever i see a beautiful vegetable garden, i think about you grandpa.  whenever i see a mailman, or an army uniform, or a grandpa loving his grandchild, i think of you grandpa.  the yankees, the rockies, the broncos, anything to do with the state of oklahoma, they all make me think of you.  everytime i hear O Holy Night, or see a woman with her thong hanging out the top of her jeans.  a sledding hill, or a tornado cloud near a little league baseball field.  postcards, and pens, and label makers, they all make me think of you.

i am so glad asher got to meet you, so glad he got to sit in your lap.  someday when we are reminiscing, when we are talking about how much we miss you, and how awesome you are, when we are telling him how wonderful his great grandpa was, i can tell him, "you met him asher, he held you on his lap and told you he loved you.  he looked at you like you were a wonder to see."  i wish so bad that he could be with you grandpa.  i wish he could learn from you.  i wish you could watch him grow. 

you have helped shape me into who i am today.  with every rose given to me after a play or concert or volleyball game, you grew my self esteem.   with every compliment, and time you told me i was beautiful, i grew stronger and more able.  your love and support meant the world to me.

thank you for every letter, every postcard, every card, every piece of sent mail.  i've saved every one, i will cherish them for as long as i live, and after that my children will cherish them, reading about your life.  i'm sorry i didn't return it grandpa, i know you wanted to hear from me.  i know you know i love you, but know i'm sorry too.  i love you, and if i could do it again, i would reply to every piece of mail i received.

i am sorry i had to move away grandpa.  i am sorry i left you there.  i am sorry i don't get to see you everyday anymore.  i am sorry i wasn't there when the doctors said the word most dreaded by everyone in humanity.  i am sorry i wasn't there to take you to your appointments, or to sit with you at home.  i am sorry i wasn't there to help grandma through this time, though she tries to keep a straight face, i know she could use the help.  i am sorry i am so far away.  maybe more for me, than for you.  i will always wish i could have spent more time with you.  i will always wish that i could have been there with you.  because, i know i am missing out on moments with one of the greatest men i have ever known.  i know that my husband, and my baby, will never know you like i do.  and i will always wish that they did.  he's so much like you grandpa.  they say that daughters marry men like thier daddy's.  and my momma sure did.  and then i did.  i am so glad i did.  he is strong and a hard worker, just like you.  he is calm and centered and sure, just like you.  he loves sports like you, and would like to sit alone and watch the game.  he saves his words, he's quiet, like you.  he hides behind a straight face, but his eyes glow with happiness just like yours do.  he loves Jesus like you.  he is stubborn, just like you.  he doens't tell stories like you.  don't tell matthew, but i wish he did.  i could listen to you tell stories forever, matthew is nowhere near as good as you. ;)

grandpa, you've worked hard.  you've fought hard.  every single day of your life.  you don't have to keep working, you don't have to keep fighting.  you're tired.  you don't have to keep taking care of us.  we have learned form you, we can take care of the family.  don't keep fighting for us.  for once think about what is best for you, what will bring you peace and joy.  where you're headed, grandpa... it will be beautiful.  you will see Jesus' face.  and He will look at you, and He will say, "you were not perfect, you made mistakes.  but to you I can say, 'well done, my good and faithful servant.'"  how i wish i could see your face, as you fall on your knees and hear the angels rejoicing.  and you will join them in singing;

"Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
With all our hearts we praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! Then ever, ever praise we,
His power and glory ever more proclaim!
His power and glory ever more proclaim!"
~O Holy Night

and you will feel no more pain.  you won't have to work or fight again.  you can lay down at the feet of Jesus, and praise Him.  oh grandpa, what joy you will feel. 

and we will miss you.  i will miss you.  i will miss kisisng your bald head.  i will miss seeing you light up.  i will miss your stories.  i will miss your laugh.  i will walk to the mailbox everyday, still wondering if there will be a postcard inside from you.  and i will let a tear fall down my cheek, when i remember there will never be again.  we will miss you everyday.  but you have left a legacy here on this earth.  you have left 7 children, and dozens of family members with a legacy that is worth talking about, worth passing, worth living for.  we will have hope, grandpa.  we will rejoice in knowing that you are singing with the angels, that you are in no more pain.  we will rejoice knowing that one day, someday, we will see you again.

i love you grandpa.  forever.

always,
your minders

march 2011
grandpa, asher, molly, levi, max