By faith

We seem to be in the middle of what I fear will be a yearly crisis around here. 
The dreaded school bill has arrived.  And every year it is much more than we can afford to pay - even with a discount.  So we go through the budget the Dave Ramsey way, trying to be wise, allocating money for unforeseen expenses and not just barely scraping by with food and rent and gas money.
Apparently we cannot afford Christian school unless we barely scrape by with food and rent and gas money.
We learn this every year, and PANIC! 
Our kids loved NC last year.  We loved the teachers, the schedule, the other parents and kids.  For our family, it seems to be a great fit.  So we try to balance godly wisdom in managing what God has given us with faith. 
And faith is scary.  A little panic inducing for a slight (?) control-freak like me.

And this particular issue is really scary for a person who would make a good legalist.  You see, I like lines because then I can be careful not to cross them.  Something in my nature screams for the "right" answer.
Like God booming from the clouds, "If you send your kids to public school, they'll end up thinking the world was created by aliens from another planet!  So obviously you shouldn't send them there."
Or, "If you homeschool your kids, they'll be social rejects and live in your home til they're 40! So please don't pick that option."
Or, "If you send your kids to Christian school they'll be so sheltered, they'll be too scared of the world to impact it for Christ! Try again."
These are all fear-inducing thoughts that rattle through my brain.

What if??? 

What if I make the wrong choice and screw up my kids forever?
So I start searching for the "right" choice.  The perfect answer for my kids and my family in this place and time.  And do you know what I get?

No lines.

No right.

No wrong.

Just a bunch of grey.

There are benefits and drawbacks to every option.
But I've learned something.  Every option involves faith.

If we send our kids to NC, we step into a path trusting that God will provide the resources to pay for it and all the other things necessary to provide for our family and allow us to be generous.

If we send our kids to public school, we step into a path trusting God to guard our children's hearts from the deceit and enticements of the world.

If we homeschool our kids, we step into a path trusting God to give us energy and patience to nurture four energetic kids with few breaks.

Then this morning I read Numbers 13 and 14.  Honestly, I was not happy to see that Numbers came after Leviticus.  Leviticus was bloody and depressing, but the first part of Numbers is just an endless list of unpronounceable names.
 B.O.R.I.N.G. 
Imagine my surprise when I got to chapter 13 and found something not only interesting and useful but convicting.

The Israelites have walked through the wilderness to the edge of the land God has promised to give them.  Moses sends in 12 spies, and 10 of them come running out, eyes wide with fear.  They induce panic in the people.
"They people of the land are GIANTS!
They have HUGE walls!
We'll NEVER win a single battle against them!
We'll all be killed!
We'll all starve!
We'll never have a home!"
Their imaginations ran wild, visualizing all the terrible things that would happen to them.  Those of you who know me know I would never do this...  Imagine something terrible happening???  no... =)
Meanwhile Joshua and Caleb saw the same land and came back confident.  The land was not smaller, the people not weaker, but their God was greater.  They begged the Israelites to make a decision based on the character and strength of God - not on their fear. 
The people of Israel did not listen, and God was so angry He was ready to kill them all and start over with just Moses.  In a stunning scene, Moses pleads to God to remember His promise to Israel and spare them, and God relents.  He lets them live, but of the people over 20 years old, only Joshua and Caleb will ever see the Promised Land. 
Here's one of my favorite verses.  Bet you can't guess why.  =)
"But my servant Caleb, because he has had a different spirit and has followed me fully, I will bring into the land which he entered, and his descendants shall take possession of it."  Numbers 14:24
It's a great story and you should read it.  Go Here. 

So I am warned and encouraged.
God has a place for us.
It will require faith to make it happen.  God does not dream small, easy dreams for His children.
So I will sit at the feet of Jesus begging God for wisdom and then go where He leads.  Keeping my mind focused on the strength and character of God.  Ignoring the urge to panic. 

If only writing this insanely long blog post had helped me figure out which "Promised Land" our family is supposed to enter...  =)

That mom

So all of a sudden it has hit me that I am that mom. 

The mom who just bought the giant box of pretzels at Sam's marked "Great for food service and child care!" in giant letters above the boxes.  And on top of that, when looking at the sign, I actually thought, "Wow!  Food service and child care is a pretty accurate job description for me!"  Instead of, "Normal people don't buy this many pretzels just to feed their own children."

The mom who bought 30 pairs of little girl underwear and spent a very long time in Walmart attempting to buy three different styles, colors, and brands so I could tell them apart while folding clothes - without having to read every single tag.  I've actually started contemplating sewing different colored threads on their socks and writing with permanent marker on their underwear.  Two things my mom used to do that I thought was crazy.  After all, if I could tell my underwear and socks apart from my sisters', why couldn't she???  I now realize that she was very, very smart. 

The mom who keeps asking, "How many days is an acceptable number to leave the clean clothes in the laundry basket without folding them??"  I need a rule to follow.  Like: Three days is fine.  You're busy.  But four days, and you're just a lazy bum.

Happy, happy birthday! =)

So last night we decided to try the new Olive Garden in Grand Island.  Why???? 

My favorite 30 year old sister's birthday! 

I would also like to add that it's my favorite 30 year old brother Rob's birthday too.  But since he won't move to Nebraska to live next door to me forever we had to celebrate without him.  =(  Love you Rob!  

Anyway, the Olive Garden seems to be the only place people in GI are going right now, because it was PACKED.  We waited for over an hour for a table.  Well...I went to Sam's with Grandpa to buy groceries, and everyone else sat outside in the sun playing "throw the landscaping rocks at the side of the building" with my kids. 

By the time I got back, Becca was bored...And hungry!

Becca and the kids looking cute before supper.

Most of us.  There wasn't room to get Caleb and the girls in the pic too... 

Becca showing off her favorite birthday card from Kristi.

And blowing out the candle on her cake with Ava.

So happy birthday Becca! 
And in case you're interested in another blog post about Becca, here you go!  From Sept. 4, 2008.  Some beautiful pics.  I was reminded of this post last night while trying to get a decent picture of Becca - who likes to make funny faces at the camera instead of smiling...

The Black Hills

 For my birthday this year, Caleb took me to the Black Hills for the weekend.  I'd never been there before, so I was excited to go!
I learned that there's pretty much nothing in north central/west Nebraska other than endless rolling hills and a few cows.  When I moved to Central City from Lincoln, I told people we were moving out pretty much to the middle of nowhere.  But I was wrong.  30 minutes from Walmart and Hy-Vee is nothing compared to 30 miles to your nearest neighbor! 
I didn't take any pics of that part of the trip...
We camped at Big Pine Campground just outside of Custer, SD.  It was the best camping place ever!  They had free wi-fi!  And the cleanest bathrooms I've ever seen at a campground.  And hot showers.  I was very impressed.  Caleb rolled his eyes at me because I was sitting outside my tent checking Facebook while he built a fire.  I'm not much into roughing it.  =)
To get out of the hot sun on Saturday afternoon, we took a tour of Jewel Cave.  I had never been in a cave before and was a little nervous...  But it was huge, so I was not claustrophobic at all.  It is a little creepy just because it's so barren.  It's amazing how God's creation speaks of His glory even 300 feet underground! 
We also drove along the two scenic, twisty roads.  That's where most of the pictures are from. 

Caleb dangling over the edge of a cliff...

We drove through there!

We thought this one looked like a castle.

My attempt at being artistic...  =)

We saw several tree stumps like this.  How on earth do they get all twisty???

 We went to Mount Rushmore for the evening lighting ceremony.  It's amazing to me that they can carve things out of a mountain like that!  And the ceremony was pretty neat. 

 We had a fun, relaxing weekend!  Next time we'll have to take the kids.  =)

Stunning

"Don't be afraid for I am with you.  Don't be discouraged for I AM your God.  I will strengthen you and help you.  I will hold you up with My victorious right hand."
Isaiah 41:10

This verse is on my refrigerator door.  I think it's the New Living Translation.  I'm not sure that means it's the most literally accurate.  But I loved the "don't be discouraged" part.  I've memorized this verse.  Heard it how many times?  In how many different translations?  And it usually says "Do not be dismayed" or "Do not anxiously look about you."  Which are things I need to remember not to do.  But this day, I needed to be reminded not to be discouraged.

Then yesterday when I went to open the refrigerator door in the middle of 15 other things that were going on, God grabbed my attention with the last part of the verse:
"I will hold you up with My victorious right hand."
A picture flashed into my mind of an Olympic athlete, a state-championship team, the Super-Bowl champions.  Take your pick.
What do the victors hold up in their hands?

The trophy.

And I haven't been able to get the image out of my brain since.
I always thought of God helping me out by holding me up above the discouraging, dismaying things around me.

I got it wrong.

He's holding me up as the trophy of his victory.

He's displaying me (and every other believer) to the world, the universe, every created thing saying "Look at me!  I won!  And here's the reward!  She's the proof of My victory!"  He's celebrating His glory by displaying me.

I'm almost speechless at the thought of it.

That I would be the trophy - the award of victory - to a holy God.

Stunning, jaw-dropping grace.

For my family

I have a bunch of cousins.  The amount of time it would take me to count them - let alone name them - is rather pathetic.  I think there are around 35 of us.  Plus spouses and children makes for a big group very quickly.  Some of them I have never met more than a handful of times.  One cousin I forgot existed until I met him when he was 9.  Sad, huh? 
It seems rather strange to have such a huge family and not actually know most of them.
Here's what I've learned through Grandma telling me and from Facebook...  =)
Each one of us is very unique.
We are actresses and businessmen and moms and fashion aficionados and writers and Walmart employees and computer geniuses.
We are men in kilts and suits and army fatigues.
We are Catholic and Evangelical and who knows what else.
Many of us are musicians of some sort - even if it's only privately.  I just know we sounded pretty good singing all together.   
We are a family full of people who know their mind and are not afraid to go against the flow to say so.
Getting glimpses of all these things in various relatives over the last week made me wish I could spend enough time with them to actually know them.  I think we would have fun together.
The amazing thing to me is that Grandma loved us all specifically for our individuality.  She loved it that we don't blend in.  That we are opinionated and able to express it.  That we aren't afraid to make hard decisions.  That we are creative.  Even if she disagreed with us - with me.
I don't know how many times she told me I should be more strict with my kids.  And that I should really try sewing 'cuz handmade clothes are so much better than store bought.  And that sugar and high fructose corn syrup are the same thing, so it doesn't matter if you eat either.  She told me how to cook and what books I should read and what books I should read to my kids and what kind of music I should let them listen to.  I learned a non-committal nod and an "Oh really?" or "I suppose I could try that."  And sometimes - maybe often? - she was right.  But I never have been one to disagree too loudly with a person about much of anything. 
Listening to her, I felt a little rebuked sometimes.  Grandma was an opinionated, stubborn woman.  And she knew Jesus and had so many more life experiences than I have.  I respected her wisdom and treasured her advice.
Grandma spent much of our time together telling me about my cousins and their parents and kids, bragging about how smart and kind and hard-working they were.  And about how much she loved them... and what she thought they should do differently too.
And I knew she loved me.  Grandma always said exactly what she thought and so was never shy to say how much she loved you or how beautiful she thought you were or how great a job you were doing in some area.  She encouraged me more than she pointed out areas that needed work. 
The last time she recognized me in the hospital, she hugged me tight and whispered, "I love you.  More than you'll ever know."
That was Grandma.

For Grandma

Hmmm....Where to start.  I know I have to write something.  My brain is begging me to get the swirling thoughts out somehow.  So here goes...
I was 12 months old when I became a big sister.  Rob and Becca entered the world 18 days after my first birthday.  My mom did exactly what I would have done in her position.  She called her mama.  I'm the oldest daughter of my grandma's oldest daughter.  And my grandma and I spent alot of time together before I can even remember.
I have a great mama, so it's not like I needed another one.  But my grandma became mama too, to me. 
Some of my earliest memories are with her.  At "The Loom," her yarn shop, touching samples stacked high - for those of you who have shopped with me, I am convinced this is where I learned to feel all the clothes...  At Goodrich with her and grandpa picking mint chocolate chip every time.  Sitting at her kitchen table on that awful red and gold carpet eating those wafer cookies with the layers of frosting.  Carefully descending her twirly stairs to Chelley's bedroom with the big mural on the wall.
I remember when my parents told me we were moving to Africa.  I wasn't sad to leave anyone but Grandma.  When my mom said we could keep one stuffed animal to take with us to Senegal, I took the calico kitty Grandma sewed for me.  I remember hugging that kitty and crying under my mosquito net in the dark.  Grandma's house was home to me through the next few years of moving and changes.  She wrote letters and sent Odyssey tapes, and I waited for hugs.  I remember looking through tears out the back window of our van at her disappearing house.
I distinctly remember sitting in my 6th grade classroom in Elba, NE looking at the clock and knowing that Grandma was in surgery and the doctor didn't expect her to ever wake up. 
When I had a problem or something was on my mind, I went to Grandma.  She had such a hard life in so many ways and had walked through all of it with Jesus.  So she was full of wisdom and compassion.  And she loved me.  And prayed for me. 
I laughed and cried through her old stories.  Grandpa's spunky great-grandma who was ninety-some years old, standing on a table, on a chair, painting her ceiling when they went to visit her.  Her brother who got run over by a car while walking down the side of the road.  Riding on the tractor with her dad.  Seeing a curly-haired boy for the first time when she was 14 (?) and telling her mama she was going to marry him.  Driving from Ohio to California by herself with three babies and pregnant with the fourth. 
I remember holding it together at my wedding until grandma walked in the door and I cried on her shoulder.  And I remember how pretty she looked in the purple dress she made just for the occasion.  I was always so excited to take my babies to meet Grandma.  I was so afraid she'd die before she held them and that they'd be lacking something forever because Grandma never touched them.  Her face lit up every time with pure joy.  Even yesterday, barely awake, she held Hudson and was so happy.  And now I'm jealous because she's going to hold one of my babies before me...
I've watched her grow weaker over the last few years.  But she never lost her love for life.  She always said, "Bored people are stupid people."  So even as her world shrunk, she was joyful and kind and interested in everything.  She watched birds out her window (I'm convinced the birds are going to miss her) and read endless books about everything.  She learned to use and ipad (and loved it!).  She tried new recipes and kitchen gadgets. And she prayed for and listened to and loved her family.
And I watched Grandpa love her.  I have never seen such selfless love lived out in front of my eyes.  He is a man of integrity and faithfulness who has fulfilled his marriage vows and lived out his love for Jesus.  And it has been joy to him every step of the way - even these last painful steps. 
Thirty years of memories, framed forever in my mind.  Glimpses of smiles and laughter and tears. 
I've been preparing for this day for a long time.  I knew she would beat me to heaven.  I knew I would somehow have to survive crises without her.  I know she's longing to dance the gold streets of heaven with Jesus.  To truly live - with no pain.  To see her mama and daddy and her baby and her brothers.  She's ready to go home.  And I don't blame her. 
I am reminded, or maybe taught clearly for the first time, that we were never meant to die.  God created us to live forever.  I am learning just how awful the price of sin is.  So I grieve that she has to die.  That death, though inevitable, is not what we were created for.  At the same time I rejoice!  I KNOW for certain that I will see her again.  And that when I do she will be perfectly whole - and so will I!  =)  That we will live forever (hopefully next door to each other) at the feet of Jesus worshiping.  With no pain.  No tears.  No fear.  No death.  No moving or change or separation.  Forever. 
The effects of sin erased forever. 
And all because of Jesus' shed blood.  He defeated sin forever when he died and came back to life.
So I cry and rejoice at the same time.
I never knew I could do that so intensely before.

If you'd like the shorter and much more poetic version, go to my cousin Claire's blog here.