::the one where urine heals ear aches::

Her cries immediately caught my attention. She had been asleep for hours and woke up sweaty, holding her hand over her ear. She had an ear ache. That moment took me whirling back to my childhood and hours of lost sleep due to the pain of ear aches.



As a child I wasn't rushed to the doctor with every cough and sniffle. If I was sick with a cold or stomach ache that meant a comfy spot on the couch with tv and ginger ale and Campbell's chicken noodle soup. However, an ear ache demanded a top secret remedy that involved my urine in my tiny smurf mushroom house topper. It wasn't until years later that I realized urine wasn't one ingredient it was THE ingredient. Yes I agree, disgusting. As a child I cried buckets of tears wishing away the pain that held my body captive, refusing to let sleep in until it's ransom had been paid.



Eisley's tears came in waves in between bursts of laughter as her daddy & I shared anything and everything that might turn her mourning to laughter. she asked me repeatedly when will it stop mommy? Jacob and I shared the same thoughts as we lay beside our sweet girl in her twin bed containing every single stuffed animals and baby doll she owns.



If we could take her pain we absolutely would.



Eisley looked to me with eyes swollen red from crying and said, Mommy, can you ask Jesus to make it stop hurting?


So I did.



He's used to that. His father asked the same thing of him. Will you make the hurting stop? This pain caused by sin and hopelessness. Will you make it better?



So He did.


*just writing with heather today

::the one where we take a turn, while others go straight::

we walked in and ordered our drinks, iced caramel macchiatos. small talked with our favorite barista, giving her a hard time about dinner plans that have not come to pass. we laughed with the other one, that looks like olivia wilde, eyes that stop you in your tracks. making our way to an outside table he lamented forgetting his cigars as he rarely gets time to relax in this way. we took the obligatory instagram picture several times until one met my approval. then we settled into conversation saturated with dreams.

somewhere along this journey of life we took a turn while everyone else kept straight. we desire a life of less, not more. constantly purging this home of all things that hinder joy and life abundant. we desire a life of community, encouraging others along the way, carrying each others burdens, going the extra mile. we desire pockets of friends huddled over coffee discussing the life of jesus and how we can be more like him.

he dreams of a home church that begins with meals that fill the belly, sandwiched with  conversations good for the soul and laughter on the end. we wonder if there are others on a similar journey, seeking the jesus of the bible. the one that hung out with whores and thieves and low lives and proclaimed their value. the one that encouraged caring for the poor and widowed. the one that cared much more about people than the laws set in place. the one that would break the law if it meant meeting the need of a brother or sister.

i dream of a time for moms to come together and be refreshed. maybe reading a book together, or scripture or neither. just talking the evening away so excited for an opportunity to have conversations that are not interrupted with requests for more milk, help with the potty, cleaning up messes or breaking  up disputes. i dream of a home full of mothers with no common bond but this season of pouring out. i dream of a safe place to be real without fear of judgement or comparison. i dream of mothers encouraging mothers.

i check the time, knowing my precious mama is at home with the babies, and has to work tomorrow. we finish up the last sips of our coffee delighted with our time together and hopeful that our dreams may come to fruition. breathing in the moment one last time, we throw our cups in the trash and walk to our car hand in hand, we don't say it allowed but know we are blessed.

::thoughts on motherhood [the one where the students become the teachers]::

i'm going to be an artist when i grow up mommy.
she's full of heart this one god gave me first. she loves people and animals, her baby sister and at times her little brother. she is the grace giver, a peace maker, my all-in little girl. she does not meet strangers and speaks to everyone she sees. she has a love for all things beautiful and making art with paint, markers or crayons. she thinks of others often running to the table to create something we can mail to brighten their day. she prays often and asks hard questions that stump even daddy. she is tender and compassionate. she reaches out. she shows herself to be friendly and has lots of friends. she is teaching me to be more like jesus.

can i hold my taggy wiffout sucking my fumb?
he's a ball of fire full of energy and passion. my middle child, the boy. he is beautiful with eyes that melt the heart. he's rambunctious and wild. he has energy i would like to bottle up for myself. he looks up to his older sister and protects the tiny one. he loves and he loves hard. he is his mama's boy, unless his daddy is around and then i don't exist.  he loves cars, trucks, trains and dinosaurs. he is the shy one, unlike his sister. he needs time to warm up to his surroundings and people. he is hard headed and at times defiant. so much like his mother. determined. i am certain that one will take him far. he will do what he sets his mind to do. it is my call to direct his mind to higher things. he is teaching me to seek more of jesus.

rohen mae

she has changed this heart of mine. making quite the entrance into this world, with only a single push, i should have know we were in for adventure. a week in the NICU drew me to prayer and trusting more than ever. she reminded me that i am not in control, though i sure try to be. she's the tiny one with the same blue eyes as the other two. she looks right into me at times and i'm sure she can read my thoughts. she's a happy girl, trading smiles for attention. she wants to talk, already like her mother, sweet sounds she makes when you tell her about your day. she's easy and passive, as i hear most third born are. she adores the two big kids and they already share secrets. she is my jarius story. i can only dream what will become of her with hope and excitement. she is teaching me to trust more of jesus.

what are you learning from your little ones?

::thoughts on motherhood [in which its like a garden]::

it starts as a seed and grows into beauty.
as mothers we cultivate it, much like a garden.
watering little souls with grace and mercy, love and kindness, hoping to reep the sown.

doing the best we can, truly living on the prayer that they will change the world. do small things with great love. forgive as they have been forgiven. love and love well, having life abundant.

knowing in my heart, they will do as i do, not as i say do, it starts with me.

if i want them to love, i must love.
if i want them to forgive, i must forgive.
if i want them to show grace, i must show grace.
if i want them to be friendly, i must be friendly.
if i want them to serve, i must serve.
if i want them to enjoy life, i must enjoy life.
if i want them to care more about people than things, i must care more about people than things.

the seeds are planted.

be as you wish to seem

-socrates

::the lens tells it all::

for mothers day my sister-in-law and i decided to get all of our babies, that would be five under five folks, together for a little photo shoot for mimi. the photos were quite comical and totally showed the personality of each little darling.

what did you do for mothers day?

::the one where i am rocked to the core::

:photo source:

"go and do the same."


black and white read one hundred times, or more, jumped off the page, landing in my heart like never before. wooing me to action. wooing me to love a go-the-extra-mile, sacrificial, kind of love.


love never gives up.
love cares more for others than for self.
love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
love doesn't strut,
doesn't have a swelled head,
doesn't force itself on others,
isn't always "me first,"
doesn't fly off the handle,
doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
doesn't revel when others grovel,
takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
puts up with anything,
trusts God always,
always looks for the best,
never looks back,
but keeps going to the end
1 corinthians 13 (the message)

i saw him cross the street with a little pup in tow. a familiar place on the corner where many have stood before him, sign in hand.

[traveling. hungry. broke.]

young and lean in stature, he wore dreads and a tie dyed t-shirt.

i pulled another french fry from the bag of take out i had just picked up for our weekly ritual, hot wings and 30 Rock. i watched him as my mouth savored the flavors of my guilty pleasure. i wondered when he had eaten last. when he had seen his parents last. if he had parents. was this a chosen lifestyle or had circumstances led him to this place of total humility. the place of asking. the place of i have nothing but i am in need will someone help me? will someone be jesus to me today?

***

we were walking back to our bus from a conference in Washington, DC. a man approached our group of young people with his hand out stretched. i could see him up ahead as my husband and i were bringing up the rear, hand-holding, talking about the evenings events and words spoken. the man was asking for money. i nudged my husband and he reached in his pocket for a couple bucks and a few coins and gladly gave them to the man. we continued our hand-holding and conversation not giving much thought to the occurance.

once on the bus the leader of our group stood up to make an announcement. we were not to interact with pan handlers in any way. we were not to look at them, talk to them and we were certainly not to give them money. for safety purposes, of course.

shock flooded my body.

***

the light turned green and i grabbed for my wallet. a ten dollar bill and a one dollar bill caused a momentary dilemma in my reluctant heart. then the words came flooding back.
"go and do the same."
my hand met his as i came to a slow roll. his fingernails dirty and unkept. his words gracious and kind.

i drove to my cookie-cutter home in the suburbs of north carolina with my freshly cut grass and play area out back and felt empty.

it's one thing to give a few bucks to the guy on the side of the road with no identity. it's quite another to stand with the one that has been beaten down and left alone. the one that no one will touch because of the law or because of what others might think of them or what they will have to sacrifice to do it.

[see luke 10:25-37]

::the one where i love them well::

some days i come out of the stalls full force ready to win the race.
breakfast with love notes in place? check.
good attitude due to more than five hours of sleep? check.
a full heart from time with god? check.
plans in place? check.
house clean? check.

some days i stumble out of bed, dragging, searching for coffee through sleep filled eyes. wondering how i will ever make it through the day let alone meet the needs of three, count them, three little ones.

it seems too much at times. i feel like that sixteen year old girl all over again. the one that is still trying to figure things out. the one that is unsure and unsteady. the one that is insecure and searching. fumbling and flailing. looking for someone else to lead.

yet here i am, thirty-four, with three precious babes trusted to my care, looking to me to show them the way.
i am mama. and it is my privilege to love them well.

i love them with food for their bellies. i know their favorite- chocolate chip pancakes, made by yours truly. the ones odd shaped and nearly see through. appearance is none of their concern. they only care how many chocolate chips are in each one and will voice their complaints of too little at times.

i love them with snuggles on the couch. they like to be shoulder to shoulder and sharing a blanket. sometimes we read fancy nancy or nemo and i do my best impressions of each character. sometimes we watch a movie like charlotte's web or cindarella or cars. it isn't the activity they love it's the nearness of mama.

i love them with silly songs and stories from childhood. they want to know what i was like as a kid. they want to know if i went to school. if i had a best friend. if i played in the woods. if i was ever stung by a bee. if i had ever seen a snake. if i had a garden. if i played in the pool. if i went to the beach. if i walked on the moon. they want to know me and i want to know them.

i love them with trips to the park and the bounce houses and starbucks for a chocolate milk treat.

i love them with play dates and sleep overs with their friends.

i love them with creativity. painting and play dough. moon sand and markers. crayons and coloring books. sidewalk chalk and silly string. sewing and singing.

i love them with a roof overhead, a warm bed and clothes in their closet and discussions of the importance of people, not things.

i love them with grace, grace and more grace. and they love me the same way.

love and love well.

"love begins at home, and it is not how much we do, but how much love we put into that action."

-mother teresa

::thoughts on boys and raising them::

she stacks the blocks neatly. i can see her mind turning as she imagines they are food for her long neck dinosaurs. he sees her progress from across the room and the desire for mischief overcomes him. he makes his way to her, destruction on his little mind.

craaaaaash!!!
followed by a scream of utter disappointment in work unappreciated.

malice is not the cause.
mischief is the culprit.
he craves it like a newborn babe for milk.

he is my second born, a son. god knew i needed a passive child to pave the way so he gave me eisley first. the one that understands logic and reason. the one that responds to the famous eyebrows-up-mommy-look that demands obedience.

but this one, my second born, he will take the world by storm. he's the game changer. he's my all or nothing passionate little boy. he's the love you hard kind. he's the chatty one- starting the day with a request for cheerios and ending it with a request for one more minute. he's the thumb sucker. the snuggler. he's the guitar player. he's the singer. he's the lover of his baby sister and the admirer of the older one. he's a loner. lover of cars, trains and dinosaurs. a true daddy's boy.

now to figure out how to harness that passion without stifling it.

1. give him an outlet.

with tons of energy and words this little one must have a way to get it all out. if he doesn't his energy takes on the form of aggression and that is when the chaos begins. he becomes my demolition man, destroying anything and anyone in his path. we spend as many hours as possible at play.

play-dough:: he loves to drive his cars through it and over it.
moon sand:: uses this as land for his dinosaurs
toy lawn mower:: he will pretend mow nearly the whole yard
pool:: jumping and swimming is a great energy zapper.
sandbox:: creating sand castles takes a lot of work.
bike riding:: can't do that without effort
vacuuming:: he loves to do it so i let him
hide and seek:: lots of running and screaming
trips to the park:: new things to climb demand extra energy
wrestling with daddy:: that's his favorite

2. give him attention.

in our home our little man is in the middle of two little princesses. each day i look for ways that he and i can have some one-on-one interaction if only for a short time. we pull out the play-dough and he loves for me to make spaghetti. it's probably because i sing my own version of beyonce's bootylicious- i don't think you're ready for this spaghetti. he giggles and begs for more.

3. give him words.

this one loves to chat. it amazes me how many words he says per day. he never. stops. talking. it's so easy to tune out chatty toddlers when trying to accomplish daily tasks. however, i constantly remind myself that he will not do this forever. i hope he does. i hope he always wants to chat with mommy. but i have prepared myself for the possibility that he won't and so i cherish the words he lavishes upon me. i respond to his questions. i ask him questions. we talk. we know each other through words.


this is my journey with a fiesty little boy and how i'm learning to meet his needs.
how do you let your boy be a boy?

::the one that brings on the words::

her first sleep over and she used all her words on daddy driving home. i was desperate to be invited into her experience. longing to know how this first milestone felt to such a tiny one. five years old. seems too young to venture out without mommy. wasn't it just yesterday that she completely depended on me for everything. she craved me and the milk i carried that nourished her growing form. and today, she has no words to share.

i asked her to go on a run/walk with me. i have found she is a great running companion and words seem to spill over when it's just the two of us. we started off through the grass in our yard, that desperately needs mowing, and made it to the road behind our house. just as i thought, the words came without pressure. she spoke with excitement about her two tattoos, one ariel, one tianna and how nice it was for the guest of honor to share them with everyone. she wasn't afraid to go to sleep because she had someone sleeping beside her. my social butterfly, finding great comfort in the not being alone. she went on about ants that hid under the picnic table she discovered and the bread she was given to feed them. she delighted in new friendships formed and has already planned to have the guest of honor to our home for another overnighter.

we imagined power buttons on our bellies, that when pressed gave us extra speed to run super fast. i followed her lead and pushed my button each time she did. waves of dirty blonde hair flowed softly behind as she focused on the goal. that mailbox. that roadsign. that house. her hazel eyes, round and soft looked up with such pride at her accomplishments.

i cheered and praised knowing this would be only one of many accomplishments in her life.  i've got your back little one. i will be forever be your number one cheerleader. your number one supporter. your shoulder to cry on. your grace giver. this is my privilege and calling as your mommy kiddo.

heading home, a little fatigued, we slowed down a bit. funny how slowing makes room for more. more conversations. more imagination. more discovery. more knowing one another. slowing gives us time to notice the unnoticeable.

a robin egg lay cracked open on the side of the road. it would have been missed if we had been running.  we talked about the possibilities of what happened to the baby bird that once resided there. and why this egg was blue and most other eggs white. the shell now in the pot with her cactus, a sure prize to keep.

we went on a hunt for dinosaur bones, my future paleontologist. raptors and t-rex's were both discovered.

we picked flowers and made wishes on dandelions.

she told me more than once she loved me and that i'm a great mommy. words i never get tired of hearing. in those moments, she was mine and i was hers and all the world stood still for our memories in the making.

what memories did you make this weekend? 


*linking up with the better mom

::today we celebrate::

it's this guys birthday.

and he means the world to us!

can you tell?

we love you babe!

::a little bit of coffee & a whole lot of jesus::

this was the reply from katie davis, teenage adoptive mother of eight girls living in uganda, when asked how she does it all.

"the answer has never changed and it is so simple. i don't. it's just a little bit of coffee and a whole lot of jesus."

no one does it all. no one.

but with a little bit of coffee...okay lets get real, a whole lot of coffee and a whole lot of jesus we do what we can.

so sit down, have a cup...or two... and do what you can and leave the rest for another day.

::what He whispers when my soul is weary::

the tiny one was restless all night, up before the sun at 5am for feeding. we snuggle and i look deep into her navy blue eyes, bonding. welding my heart to hers for eternity. a full belly and snuggles are her deepest needs at this moment. i am mommy and these needs are met.

my big girl has been fearful lately. darn you bad dreams. i relate to this fear stirred by dreams. my mind wanders to the stretch of time that i ran the little guy no more than an inch of bath water due to a dream that i could have sworn was reality. the one that woke me, sobbing and haunted me for months.

bare feet tapped the hard woods as she ran to the kitchen where i was making coffee, strong, through sleep filled eyes, ecstatic that she had made it through the night in her own bed, unafraid. 5:30am on the microwave clock. i explained the time and how she usually sleeps for at least two more hours. her longing to be near me pulled on my mama heart strings. to the couch with a blanket she goes.

i long for solitude.
i stake my claim on the wee morning hours as "me time."
time to refresh my sleep deprived soul. time to meet with Him. time to be filled so i can overflow.

this time i long for, invaded by my two precious girls.
i encourage more sleep for both of them knowing the value of a good-nights-sleep. the kind i fear i may never have again. i think grace. these are the moments i am challenged to give grace so i share my frustrations with god.

don't they know i neeeeed this time to be a good mommy?

and He speaks gently to my heart-

these are the moments that make you a good mommy.


*just writing with heather today