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Yearly Archives: 2016

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Sometimes I wake up and feel the stillness, I wonder if I’m empty again. I wait, trying just to breath when everything feels too quiet.

And then I feel her. She moves so deep within me. That pulse inside – the universe shifts – I feel her intertwined with my body and blood, nestled deep inside, everything that I am is protecting her. And yet I am completely out of control, this seed growing and growing takes no thought from myself. I don’t knit her together. I don’t form her blinking eyes, curling fingers or kicking feet. Yahweh does – the One who has always been the Creator and always will be. She is a seed I pressed down eager and hopeful into soft soil, praying a lovely bud would uncurl and grow up strong. That is all I have to do with the miracle.

Those years of knowing I would never hold a child again are starting to fade. Things that I was too afraid to even whisper, I’m starting to sing out rejoicing with others. I don’t flinch anymore when asked when my baby will arrive. I have enough hope now to look forward to that day. Her movements down deep have given me enough strength to gather a few little clothes and blankets. She walks with me, giving me the courage to wear a dress draped to show my belly swelling, inviting smiles and congratulations, the world sharing their tokens of hope and thanksgiving. I can receive them now, because I believe in miracles. I believe in a babe taking its first breath. I believe in children growing to know God’s love in this dark world. And I believe this world is always, ever a place of light even when hearts and families and nations are breaking, because God still speaks. Jesus plants seeds and hope and He never leaves. He has come and is coming again so that those who sow weeping will go out with songs of joy.

The first trimester I stumbled through a fog – of fear and fatigue, nausea and surprised hope. Her heart kept beating and I took hormones that increased the fog. I slept and ate and prayed and those months endless passed. The second trimester arrived like a clear day, announced she is a girl after so many boys birthed, and with it brought enough energy and hope to prepare a home for her. Now the third trimester is on the brink and it’s hard for me to think beyond the present day – maybe that is a gift in itself. What comes will be His gift, nothing more, nothing less.

In this moment I can rest to know that I am blessed to hold life within. I cradle a miracle between muscle and bone.

. . .

Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him.”

Psalm 126:5-6

 

Every year they do Junior Lifeguard camp. Every year they become the next level of watermen. So proud of them and thankful for long summer days where they aren’t even close to plugged in. I can’t begin to show with my camera what they do in those five weeks. By the end I’m exhausted too, but every year I look forward to the rituals that are such a part of us now… field trips and family days, sandwich contests and bakeoffs, driving and bike riding to the beach, ice cream when they get home…

You can check out Childhood Unplugged for more inspiration and images this August.

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“Adults are just obsolete children and the hell with them.”
― Dr. Seuss

Thankful that he keeps me a child.

For more unplugged moments this July head over to Childhood Unplugged . . .

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“A child should be brought up to have relations of force with earth and water, should run and ride, and swim and skate, lift and carry; should know texture, and work in material; should know by name, and where and how they live at any rate, the things of the earth about him, its birds and beasts and creeping things, its herbs and trees; should be in touch with literature, art and thought of the past and the present. He must have a living relationship with the present, its historic movement, its science, literature, art, social needs and aspirations, In fact he must have a wide outlook, intimate relations all around, for it depends, not on how much is learned, but how things are learned.”

– Charlotte Mason

Yes to all of that.

Fourth grade brought the California history float parade and David’s landmark was Mount Whitney. His brother has climbed it, David has been at home on mountains and met their trees, rocks and creatures. All school year we dive into the stories of past and present, the history of landmarks, natural phenomena, and great explorers. So last week David dug his hands down into wet clay, felt its texture and made a mountaintop – a mountain atop a boogie board atop a skateboard that he marveled at and prepared to walk around his school in the annual 4th grade float parade. I’m thankful for the time to attend to how things are learned and to marvel with them instead of just marching through a test of how much is learned.

For more real life inspiration this June head on over to Childhood Unplugged

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“Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.”

– Scott Adams

I like paper. I love how it looks and feels and smells. It’s simple, doesn’t need batteries. I like how there isn’t a delete button to push easy and start over. I love that you have to build up the layers and make it all into something together. Nothing makes me happier than to see my boys with a set of paints and a piece of paper.

For more unplugged inspiration this May head on over to Childhood Unplugged. Oh and don’t mind our Christmas decorations, I took these photos a few months ago – I’m not that behind haha.

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