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. 

The joys of being an aunt! =)

I had four kids in my house this morning.  I know, I usually have four kids in my house, but this morning was different.  Two of them were my sister's kids.  So I chased Julia (4) and Ava (2) along with Honey Rae (20 months..ish) and Hudson (2 months).
And I learned a few things. 
First off, did I really used to do that all the time?  I need a nap!  And my house is completely destroyed.  I don't know how Kayla's house always looks so clean...  Which brings me to point number two.

Everyone should train their babies to watch tv from a very early age.  Honey is not interested in tv, so she kept screeching and poking at Hudson's face when he was almost asleep. 
Which made him wake up. 
Which made me have to put him to sleep again. 
Which made Honey wait even longer for more milk in her baba. 
Which is why she was screeching and poking in the first place. 
She wanted "MORE please." 
If she had stared like a zombie at the tv for an hour like my girls were doing, I would not have had this problem.  On the other hand, Honey is going to be so much smarter than my kids whose brains have probably turned to mush...  =)
 
Next lesson.  I have officially lost my baby muscles.  Hudson is a sweet tiny little thing, and I held him all morning. Partly because I love to cuddle him and partly because I was afraid to put him down.  Anyway, after two and a half hours, my arms are tired!

Bottom line:  It was a great morning!  I love babies - especially Kayla's babies.  And I was happy to send two of them home so I can do another thing I love - take a nap!  =)

Quick Update...

I know. 
Even if you have not particularly noticed or cared.  It has been a pathetically long time since I blogged.  I could blame this on many things. 
I have four kids.
A husband. 
A huge house to clean. 
Responsibilities. 
Life. 
But bottom line is my brain is confused.  It can't seem to put two coherent sentences together.  God has been teaching me so many things.  And I've been trying frantically to keep up.  But I have to say most of the time, I've just felt tired, exhausted at the sheer pace of His thoughts speeding by me.  I've been grabbing for them, attempting to store them and maybe...hopefully!...remember them whenever I feel like me again.  Maybe I don't know who "me" is. 
Anyway, all this to say that I haven't been able to think of anything funny or interesting or even useful to write down.  Usually I write to organize thoughts in my head.  So here goes trying again. 
So for news since the last time...whenever that was...
Kylie's six now!   Julia's four!  Ava turned two!!  AH!  How is that possible! I don't have a baby anymore....  hmmm....
And our house in Lincoln sold.  Praise God!  The two house payment thing was not going well.  Although I have to say it was bittersweet.  The last time walking around the house holding so many memories made me rethink our decision...again.  We lived so much life with our babies in that tiny little house. 
So we're officially Central City people now.  Not Lincoln people who just happen to be hanging out in Central City for a while.  I'm not sure that's what I thought I wanted.  God's thoughts are not our thoughts and His ways are not our ways, right?  He sure has pointed that our repeatedly this last year.  Apparently I am a slow learner...
That's all for now. 
Time to pick up kids from school.  And clean the house.  And fold laundry.  And think of something for supper.
Maybe I'll be back tomorrow...

Rescued

So it took me four hours to get home from Lincoln last night.  For those of you who don't live here, it's a 90 minute drive from Lincoln to CC.
Why?
Well...I was talking on the phone to Allie, and I heard this weird thumping noise.  My tire was flat.  Like really, really flat.  Hmmm...  I wonder how long I'd been driving on it like that?  So I pulled off on the interstate exit and York and called Caleb.
If you know me, you know.  I have NO talent at fixing anything.  That's why I married a man who can fix everything.  =)
So, the last time I remember anyone trying to show me how to change a tire was in highschool.  My dad and I were on our way back from track practice or something at school when the tire broke.  It was freezing.  And I stood there thinking, "Why do our cars always break?" while he showed me how to change dead tires.  He has lots of practice.  =) 
Since then I've just let Caleb take care of all mechanical things.  It's so much faster.  And easier. 
But last night Caleb was an hour away.
So armed with my Odyssey's manual and Caleb's directions on the phone, I went to work.
I pulled the spare tire out of the van and found the jack.
Then I found the spot to put the jack (that part was not easy).
I had to kick the thing that unscrews the lug nuts (I think that's the right word...) to get them unstuck.  Apparently Caleb tightens things much tighter than I can untighten them.
He kept saying something about 100 foot pounds.
Whatever that means.
And I was spinning the little thing on the jack to make the van go up when this nice man appeared.
By this time I was freezing and wishing that somebody who actually had a clue what they were doing would show up and rescue me.  But I was also VERY impressed with myself.  I had just changed half a tire BY MYSELF! 
So, this man is the director of Christian Heritage (a Christian adoption agency here in Nebraska) and took pity on me because he has a wife who doesn't know how to change tires either.  He didn't figure he'd want his wife sitting on the side of the road trying to change a tire while his three kids ran around like psychos in the back of their van (which is what Julia was doing in the back of our van...) 
And I was thankful. 
Thankful that he knew what he was doing.
Thankful for the help. 
Thankful that he was not creepy, and I was not scared of him.
Thankful for a man to choose to be late to his meeting in order to be God's hands and feet in my life.
Thankful that God takes good care of me. 
This has been a hard week for alot of reasons.  I feel on the verge of panic about different things at different times.  God does not seem the least bit interested in what seems to me to be best.  And I was desperate for a reminder of God's goodness. 
That man walking up to my van was God stepping into my life saying, "See?  You could do this by yourself, but I'm paying so much attention to even the little details of your life that I'll help you.  This man will be Me walking into your life to remind you that I take good care of you." 
I needed that yesterday. 
And I wondered...  Something had to go wrong for God to point that out to me.  So maybe the things that seem terribly wrong in my life are the setup for God to stun me and those around me with His goodness and mercy and kindness and love. 
Just  maybe.
Doesn't really feel like that most of the time.
But here's a quote I read today.

Our feelings do not affect God's facts.  They may blow up, like clouds, and cover the eternal things that we do most truly believe.  We may not see the shining of the promises - but they still shine!  - Amy Carmichael

Sunday Afternoon

 I

 I took a nice Sunday afternoon nap, and this is what I woke up to.  Apparently 60 degrees in the middle of October is not too cold to play in the mud daddy makes in the driveway while washing the van.  Julia was blue. If they're not sick this week, it'll be a miracle.

We went for a walk across the new bridge.  It's gorgeous! 

We probably should've taken the stroller...

Ava climbing.

I have no picture taking talent, but the sunset was gorgeous.  All I had to do was point and shoot.  =)