Monday, September 7, 2015


(I wrote this 3 years ago when my baby girl was going to Kindergarten. She is now starting 3rd grade tomorrow.  Micah will be in 7th and my oldest is getting ready to experience high school...I'm not ready for this... After dropping him off for his Freshman Orientation last week I had to pull over the mini van so I wouldn't get into a car accident because my eyes were temporarily blinded by pools of salty mother-of-a high-schooler tears...I mean seriously, it is all really just a bit too much.  Today I signed him up for Driver's Ed...if that doesn't bring one to their knees, I honestly don't know what will.  But the fact that this precious child of mine is going to be operating a vehicle really is hard enough let alone the fact that his father and I happened to take this class together just a few years ago...ahem... Back to my point...these words ring true tonight...many of us moms and dads are sending their littles and not-so-littles off to school tomorrow. Some of us are more nervous than they are and most of us are surrounding and uplifting our kids in prayer...)

GLIDE September 3, 2012
We picked out a sage green durable fabric for the upholstery and chose white painted wood for the frame.  The first time I sat in the cushions and kicked my legs up on the ottoman I was nine months pregnant with my first.  Anticipation swelled as big as the belly beneath my embrace as the chair glided smoothly beneath me.  This would mark the first night of many spent in that chair. 

Countless nights of three different crying babies held throughout these last eleven and a half years and tonight I find myself there yet again rocking a little girl, my baby girl who can't sleep because she has excited butterflies fluttering in her tummy as she imagines her first day of kindergarten tomorrow.  As we move in the darkened room I see her as a baby lying there in my arms.  Us rocking the same way we did four short years ago.  Her softness is cradled in my arms and her innocence graces her face as memories flash and love flows fierce.

We glide...

I envision the boys, each one of them as babies.

The first time Jonah opened his deep gray eyes and looked up at me, it was in that chair, in his tiny nursery in our first little yellow house.  I remember propping him up, next to his little stuffed "Winnie-the-Pooh" and taking a picture of him there on that green fabric in his first few months of life.

Many a night we took turns consoling our sweet Micah struggling to fill his little lungs with air.  Holding up that mask of medicine humming through the machine to calm his cough.  Many prayers were uttered upward in that seat.   I can still see those chubby cheeks and little upturned nose...I can almost hear the scritch scratch of the flowering dogwood tapping on the window of his bedroom in our second place we called home.

And here I sit gliding with long limbs hanging over the sides of the same padded arms that used to fit her length nicely...

And I am overwhelmed.

Warm pools flood up as we sway back and forth.

Tomorrow marks a significant day.

Ayla takes her first steps as a kinderg√§rtner.

Jonah will be dropped off at middle school and will walk the hallways as a sixth grader for the very first time.

And Micah will march as a fourth grader down the halls of his school.

But tonight I pray that they will-

not only step...

or just walk...

or even manage to march through this new school year.

Tonight I am praying that they will glide through the days, weeks, months of school filled with a peace in knowing that they have a heavenly Father who is cradling each one of them in the palm of his hand and loving them more fiercely than this mama ever could even imagine...

Friday, August 7, 2015

Seasoned Moments

Summer is finally here in Michigan now that it is almost over.  We have finally felt the warmth of golden sunshine bask deep and hot into the pores of our skin as we gaze upward into blue skies adorned with billow white clouds.

...Five lakes of greatness reflect that ozone above us and calloused soles burn dark as we tread the stamped concrete beneath us.  Us Michiganders, we are fierce.  We bear the frigid, stark, hollow forbidden winter stomping through drifts of white snow and making the best of it all.  The buds finally appear after the last of the frost, sometimes not until late May and we inhale Springtime...we really can smell the fragrance of the season and it permeates and renews down into our cores.  That hope of rejuvenation, redemption, renewal... the hope of things to come seems to not only be the light at the end of the tunnel but actually is what gets us through the long, frozen-over, body-numbing winter.  Just the sheer memory of bright green leaves dancing in the wind and dry, clear sidewalks making life easy and ice-free can help set the mind right.  The four seasons of our great mitten state are a draw and a steadfastness that only a Michigander can truly appreciate.  The fall brings crisp, exuberant color along with the orange hue of crackling bonfires and hayrides.  Apples and pumpkins and flannels and boots.  We marvel and take it in, the magnificent beauty of death...the trees turn like chameleons before our very eyes and amaze us as the wind blows each leaf down and bareness takes ahold of naked branches. So the cycle goes, continues.  Season after season, year after year, decade after decade.  We stay. 
And when the kids finished up school and summer was staring us in the face on the calendar not on our skin...We packed up and headed north, as most of us do...We went UpNorth.  We do every year.  We go to the same city, same location...We try to recreate memories and capture a few good pictures on the same beautiful beach with sand dunes showing off behind...But this year our plans had to change, just a little...We had to make different arrangements at the last minute and found a rustic rental available...Our plans had to alter for work schedules and already low expectations were validated strong as we laid sleeping bags on top of cobwebbed beds. And in that dirty, soiled up over charged place we made new beautiful memories.  Granted most were outside. We spent our days fishing amongst lime green lily pads and riding tandem into the quaint little town to devour scoops of delicious ice cream.  We stuck our toes into icy cold Lake Michigan and read for hours.  At the end of the day our family stood awestruck as the sun made it's glorious descent painting the sky magnificent indescribable colors.  The kids played hard with their cousins and spent cherished time with grandparents, aunties and uncles...We fried up fresh fish hand caught and gathered around the table and the bonfire later on with stuffed bellies full of smores and fermented grapes.  The katydids joined in our song and everyone glowed from the inside out. 

And even though I usually cling tight to the nostalgic, this time away made me realize I tend to try and recreate the same moments all too often.  And not only physically but spiritually speaking.  Our trip shed a new light into my soul and the lesson is this, to find joy in the current time.  Whatever or wherever that may be.  The surroundings may be filthy and maybe even frightening.  But there is beauty to be found in the midst of the ugly. 

Seasons of life are ever changing.

You may be facing the desolate body-shivering cold of a winter white depression.  Maybe your marriage is falling apart or the doctor made that life-altering call and you have to bravely journey down the C word road. 

Birds could be chirping and Spring buds may be ready to bloom where you are.  An exciting new marriage or precious bundle of sweetness could be adorning your world blooming bright. 

Death could be knocking on your loved ones door and the autumn leaves may be turning many shades fading your green to brown.  The warmth of fire and cider hot may keep you company as you have to say goodbye to a toxic relationship and move on to healthier horizons in your current fall time...

And maybe your summertime of life is finally here.  You have been waiting patiently and golden days keep you barefoot with toes in the sand.  Life has given you some lemons and somehow you're drinking lemonade as you swing high and touch the clouds braving new adventures, maybe a new job now after a long lay off is finally paying the bills.  Or maybe you're in the throws of muggy humidity and sweat is dripping off your brow as you change another diaper, load another dishwasher, fold another towel... You just long for some fresh air-conditioned wind to sweep through and offer some relief. 

These seasons can never be recreated or replicated.  They will live on in the memory of our lives but duplicate free.  Tonight I am telling myself to let my moments, each sacred one, make it's mark.  I am praying that I will not forget but always remember and never compare certain times in my life to other times...And hopefully I will soak up and learn to dance with grace relishing the present as God continues to redeem these moments blowing His Spirit into my flesh turning them into something significant.  This heart is filled with yearning to share in other's seasons, lend a hand or an ear, or bear some of a burden for them.  To gather around a table and listen to other's tell their stories of seasons past. I pray for hope to fill you and me up to overflowing pouring over into those around us.   Season after season, time after time always changing never the same but always significant. 


Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Dreary Light

I woke up and felt a chill in the air. The window let no light in except a dull gray haze. I arose and walked through the tiny, dingy cabin and looked out the window to see rain drops sprinkling over our bikes as clouds hung thick and fog spread wide across the greatest of the lakes, Michigan. Stepping outside my face was immediately splattered with slushy droplets...How could this be the first day of July? Just two days ago it was 80 degrees and the sand was so hot we feared blisters on the soles of our feet. And today winter hits me in the face and all my hope is drowned. My gut wrings and the wind in my sails vanishes. My joy is covered up by the clouds and I can't seem to feel the warmth of any light at all. Why does the weather dictate my mood? Why do I have such a hard time finding blessing in the mundane dreariness of the tough times in life? As the sun finally appears in the sky as the day is almost done and warmth fills my whole physical and spiritual being, I am reminded that to appreciate the goodness, the sunshine and true joys in life, I must make my way through the darkness. Always searching for glimpses of His light...and as my favorite lake sparkles turquoise blue and reflects the sun so radiantly, I am inspired to do the same. I sink my toes in the sun-laden sand and pick up my husband's old baseball middle boy has been begging to play catch...We warm up, I tell him to take it easy on me and true, deep contentment resonates everywhere as the sun sinks into my whole being. I wind up and throw a softball fast pitch with a small hardball, something I've never done. (And I left the wind up pitch on the field with the softball, the end of my 8th grade year..) It lands in the strike zone and I feel like I've just won the World Series because I saw that heart melting smile shine across the sand-field. I think to myself, it doesn't get much better than this...These little grace moments turning my messed up self into something better. And I carry on, contemplating this mixed up cold to hot day and utter a prayer to the One who is always listening, The God who hears me...May my beautiful yet broken life reflect pieces of the one who works together ALL things, shadows and light, joy and pain, ALL things together for my good...

Sunday, May 31, 2015


A familiar melody graces my ears.  That Micah in the middle of mine loves to hum and tends to soothe himself with it much of the time, especially before bed.  Tonight as I climbed the wooden stairs to tuck them in, I hear that sweet, still-little boy voice of his adorning the second level.  My first stop was in Ayla's room and she had already crashed.  I made my way to the boys' room and Joe joined me just as I climbed the bunk ladder...we both recognized the song simultaneously.  Together we put words to the tune for him and he joined in:

"Praise, Praise the Father, Praise the Son...And Praise the Spirit, Three-In-One...Oh Praise Him, Hallelujah..."

We sang some more together.  That little almost teenager of mine laying there so vulnerable, he faces many fears and right then and there it hits me he is understanding and taking in the gospel.  Application of teaching is so very present and right beneath my very nose as I witness this boy of mine seeking refuge in the only true refuge there is, my faith is strengthened.  We have faced tough times together, this family of ours.  Tempers have turned hot and life isn't always a bowl of cherries.  Let's face it, most of the time it can be very trying.  With three growing kids and two grown adults trying to grow up...we can sometimes mess it all up pretty badly.  But what hope I have tonight being reminded of the sweet solace granted to us through the Holy Spirit of God. 

As I scratched his back he switched the tune...

"Blessed be the name of the Lord, blessed be the name..." 

And I sing quietly into his ear,

 "...when the darkness closes in Lord, still I will say...Blessed be the name of the Lord..."

And as I wind down and ready for sleep, I have this reassurance...provoked and spurred on by my 12 year old oblivious middle child...that God, in His almighty divinity, Father, Son and Spirit...Three-In-One...God, is blessed...through the trials and through the joy...In darkness and in light...Blessed be the name of the Lord...

Praise His Holy Name!

Monday, March 23, 2015

Sweet Ayla

I posted this 6 years ago today....

Today my precious baby girl turned 2 years old! (yesterday we had her little party and she was definitely the little "belle of the ball") Memories of her birth flooded my mind all day as I played with her and held her and just stared into her beautiful blue eyes. I am so thankful to God for my darling girl.

When I found out that I was pregnant with her, Joe was convinced that we would be having twin boys. I didn't believe the ultrasound technician when she told me it was a girl. We actually had five confirmations through ultrasound and I still didn't believe it until moments after her birth in the delivery room. My pregnancy was very similar to the other two except that I was more nauseous with her than I was with the boys. After going for my 20 week ultrasound appointment my doctor informed me that the radiologist detected that her brain ventricles were "mildly prominent" and that she had a choroid plexus cyst. He told me not to worry but to schedule a level three ultrasound and to make sure my appointment had the genetic counselor there as well. The hospital could not get me in for three weeks. I was in agony. I was so worried about my baby and could do nothing but wait and pray. Of course I googled and looked up everything I could on the internet about this condition which only scared me all the more. Everything from developmental delays to hydrocephalus popped up. I remember specifically one evening when I was crying to Joe about how upset and worried I was and he looked at me with a wisdom that I never before had seen in his eyes and said,

"If God chooses to give us a special needs child, He will. He has a reason for everything and if it's His will, it's His will and it won't change the love I have for her already, as a matter of fact I'll probably love her even more!"

He had this reassuring peace and strength that I did not have. I remembering blaming myself for wanting a girl so badly and thinking this is what I get for wishing for her.

Before I got pregnant with Ayla, a friend from church came up to me and asked me when I was having my little girl. I was like What? How do you know I'll have a girl? She told me that she had envisioned my Joe, the boys and me with a little girl standing in front of a church and she had a feeling that I was going to have a girl one day. ...a couple of months later, Ayla was conceived... So after finding out about Ayla's condition, I ran up to her at church and in between sobs managed to explain what was wrong. She laid hands on me and prayed with me and as soon as she did, I felt this peace just come over me. That sick feeling in my stomach disappeared and I was at ease. At that moment, my faith grew more than it ever had before. I knew there was a God. The "God who sees me" saw me right then and there! So many people were praying for my baby. They were praying for God's healing and for His will at the same time.

So the weeks past and I went to my appointment. The genetic counselor wanted to be in the room and the technician scanned me and looked me straight in the face and said ,

"Her brain ventricles are completely normal and there is no cyst."

I started bawling my eyes out! I was so relieved! The doctor came in and scanned me and said it was probably an error. He said that they probably measured the wrong area of the brain. I thought, maybe...or maybe, just maybe...God performed a miracle and healed my baby. Why? I don't know why. All I know is that my God, "El Elyon": the Name, is the God who sees me. He hears my cries and calms my fears. He is Jehovah, God and through His precious son chose to give me life and I will forever praise his most holy name!

Lord, today as I celebrate the birth of my sweet Ayla, I thank you for hearing my cries and calming my fears. Thank you for my precious girl. May her life continue to be a testimony of your grace to an unbelieving world.

*And today she turned 8...our sweet girl has blessed us more than words can say. She is passionate, kind and determined. I love watching her grow in God's love and grace...She truly is our little miracle.. My friend, Deb, who prayed over her that Sunday so many years ago has now gone to be with Jesus. She's not with us anymore but her prayer of faith lives on in my precious girl. I think of her often but remember her especially on Ayla's birthday.  I am still encouraged by her boldness to step out in faith even when it wasn't natural. She listened to God's voice in her life and obeyed. May I be 
able to trust and obey Him in that same way, even when it's out of my comfort 

I pray the same for my darling girl... 


Monday, March 9, 2015


Every once in a while our batteries run down and we robotically face the day at a low voltage.  The mundane is just that and daily routine wears us thin...Cold Michigan winter doesn't help...neither does lack of sunshine which really does turn people into the 'Walking Dead', no joke.  And this is just how I have been feeling.  Numb, wordless, my soul has been hibernating away bearing the frigidness in the air.  The season hasn't been a total loss, there have been moments...but being honest, there has been an overall slightly apathetic haze that has fogged up my writing.  There really isn't any excuse except looking back now I needed a recharge.  Some jumper cables if you will to shock me a bit, rev things up, stir up this pot.

And this past weekend was just that.  We had an amazing conference at our church #missionhome2015...I was inspired, challenged, rejuvenated and motivated.  But mostly I am filled up with the best food for the soul that there is, the bread for my life, the word of God.   And as uncomplicated and simple as this is, the two things that Joe and I took away from the whole weekend was that we need to read the bible more and worship our God together as a family.  Simple but sometimes forgotten.  Life gets busy and we forget what is important.  We believe that the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever and we are praying to make some progress in these areas. 

We started last night, lighting our Lenten Wreath and sitting down together as a family for dinner...It started out great.  I captured an authentically content moment...

And minutes later we had to repeatedly warn one of the kids to "knock it off...or else..."  We tried to sing after dinner and silly/borderline blasphemous kids chimed in...It wasn't easy and most definitely not picture perfect as my patience quickly melted.  But it was a start.  And we will try again...And thankfully God in all of His abundant grace and mercy will give us strength to endure.  We will baby step our way if we have to.  Not for the sake of looking like a good moral family...not for the applause of others...and definitely not so our kids will think we are cool (because that's just never gonna happen:)) but all for the honor of the King of our lives.  Because of this I am certain..."He who began a good work in us [you] will carry it on to completion..." (Phil 1:6)  

Friday, January 2, 2015

2014 Recapped

So long 2014...

We made many memories...

Here is a recap of the pretty wonderful ones... 

The not so great ones are hidden in my heart hopefully helping shape me into something better...

But all won't be forgotten...

Looking back on 2013...




And  2011

4 years have come and gone so fast.  My babies aren't little anymore...I love looking back at these moments and remembering each one.  God is so good and has blessed us beyond measure.  I sit here with a full grateful heart anticipating and embracing all that He has planned for us for 2015....