Pillars

"By day the Lord went ahead of them in a pillar of cloud to guide them on their way and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, so that they could travel by day or night. Neither the pillar of cloud by day nor the pillar of fire by night left its place in front of the people."
Exodus 13:21-22

Raise your hand if you get caught up in wondering what in the world you're supposed to be doing with your life. Yeah, that would be pretty much all of us at some time or another. And if you didn't raise your hand, you have either not yet turned ten years old, or you're probably not being completely honest with yourself.

I often put great pressure on myself to figure out right now what I am doing with my life. Sometimes I'm just thinking of this week. Other times I think about the next few years or beyond. Am I doing what I'm supposed to with my time? Am I investing in the people I should be? Am I teaching my children the right things? Am I working hard enough at knowing God better each day?

And what's the plan for the future? Am I heading in the right direction? Should I be taking on more responsibility? Or less? Should I make different friends? Have more babies? Stay at home? Get a job?...

Now imagine yourself as an ancient Israelite. I'm talking about the ones who lived back when Moses was around. The ones who wandered in the desert. God's presence was literally there before them, for all to see. They didn't have to wake up each morning and wonder what direction they should walk. They didn't have to consult someone else to find that information out for them. They just looked up and followed the cloud during the day or the fire during the night. And it was always there.

Don't you wish it were that easy? Sometimes I do. I wonder if the Israelites felt great relief in not having to make those decisions for themselves. No one wondered where or when. The pillar of cloud or fire showed them when and led them where. It could not have been more clear.

Sometimes God still helps us out by making things obvious for us. A friend struggling with the decision of having more children suddenly discovers she is pregnant. I'd say that's a pillar of cloud. Another who wrestles with the decision to leave a difficult job is suddenly downsized. Pillar of fire, don't you think?

But for all those less obvious times, we are not helpless. Thousands of years later, I'm comforted by two things:

First, I am guided by God's Word, the Bible.

"Your Word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path."
Psalm 119:105

But unlike the nation of Israel, it has to be my choice to keep it before me each day. And to follow.

Second, I have the Holy Spirit.

"And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Counselor to be with you forever."
John 14:16

Forever. Always there. Just like the pillars, but even better. Personal, comforting, and ever-present.

What are you looking to for guidance as you look into the days ahead?

History

Shortly after my resolve to post more frequently, we left town on a spontaneous road trip to Chicago. My hubby’s grandmother passed away on Sunday, and we went to be with the rest of his family to celebrate her life. In four days, we spent less than 48 hours at our destination and more than 36 hours in the minivan.

With three kids.

Including a 6-month-old.

And as exhausting as it was, it was so worth it.

It was worth it to be able to share hugs, tears, stories, laughter, and family history. It was a rich time of celebration and reflection on the life of a wise and whimsical woman.

But it was also worth it for these:

We were given stacks of photos of my husband as a baby and child. Neither of us had seen most of these.

Although they did look shockingly familiar.

Let me show you what I mean. Here's is my husband, back in the 70's:

And here is a photo from last month of my sweet baby boy, Adam:

(These are not my best photos of him, but I'm glad now that I have them for comparison sake.)

Okay, let's take one more look at dear hubby as a baby boy:

And Adam again:

The resemblance. Uncanny, wouldn't you say?

They say history repeats itself...

This one's worth at least a thousand words

Truly, there are so many things that I could say... But I'm going to leave it at this: I am proud to call this man my husband.

Silence

Yes, yes, I know. It’s been absolutely forever since I last blogged. 4-EVA. And looking back at the year as a whole, my posts have been few and far between. I can assure you that it is not for lack of material! My days have been full of fun and challenges, ups and downs, new experiences and the comfort of routine.

Call it writer’s block, busyness, or the sheer exhaustion of raising three young children, or perhaps it’s been the age-old saying, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”

More than that, I believe it’s the perfectionist in me that wants every post to be better and more creative than the one before. But that false expectation has kept me from sharing the fun and the challenges, the ups and downs, the new experiences and the comfort of routine. And it has kept me from my favorite creative outlet—writing!

Well, folks, I want to keep it real. Not everything in life is pretty, and some days are pretty rough in this head (and this house) of mine. And though I do my best to focus on all that is good and beautiful (for there is plenty!), if you keep coming back you might catch glimpses of “bad” and “ugly” along with their sibling “good.” (No, those are not nicknames for my children!) But all of it is a part of the journey that makes up the whole of life.

Okay, now I’m rambling. All this to say, I’m banishing whatever has been keeping me from the keyboard.

I’m back, baby.

School's In

I'm not sure that anyone besides the grandparents really want to see my daughter squinting into the morning sun on our unfortunately-east-facing front porch, but I simply could not let this day go by without a post.

Today is Lucy's first day of First Grade.

*sigh*

And here she is among the masses of kids and parents creating The Chaos of the first day of school.
From 9 until 4, five days a week, someone else gets to enjoy her smile, her creativity, her silliness, and to help fill her eager mind. As much as I am so grateful for the wonderful opportunity for her to get an education so close to home, I can't help but feel just a little bit sad that this day came way too fast for my liking.

Sum-Sum-Summertime

Back in May, I was somehow under the misconception that summer break would allow a nice slow pace and all kinds of time to relax and catch up with friends and do whatever in the world we wanted. I was partially right, but "slow pace" will not be a phrase I mistakenly use again when speaking of future summertime fun. And in a word, it has flown by way too fast.

With the start of Lucy's school year just a few days away (you heard me, days), I realized how poorly I've done in blogging this summer. Not that I haven't written several dozen posts in my head, but getting to hash them out on the keyboard has been a different story (see above paragraph).

So, here are a few updates and highlights from our summer...

First, we had to use our friends' idea of making a "summer fun" checklist to make sure we didn't miss out on anything we had talked about doing. We've gotten through most of it (and a few, like "ice cream," numerous times).

Then we got a pool. Uh huh.

But apparently it wasn't big enough for daddy's liking. And when Lucy set up her 'waterslide,' she hit the far wall of the pool and went flying into the grass. So he took it back and got a bigger one. (I use the word bigger quite lightly.)
It made the kids hungry...

...and tired.
Shortly after the start of summer break, Lucy lost her first tooth. But in true Lucy fashion, it is still in her possession. She has a hard time saying goodbye. I have no idea where she gets that from.

We had several visits from family and friends. Grandma came, and Auntie and Uncle Chris, and some of our nearest and dearest friends who still like us (we think) even though we have all known each other since college. Just a year apart and both sporting gaps in their teeth, Lucy and Erikson have been pals from before they can remember.

And Libby was born the day after Josiah. With both of them approaching their 3rd birthday, they may share their smiles and their strawberry-blonde coloring, but nothing else.

Joey learned to help daddy in the yard.

This is his tough guy pose. Is it convincing?
And someone turned "this many."

And dear, sweet, "little" Adam. What has he been up to this summer? Growing. And growing. I love this photo because the perspective makes his chin and cheeks look extra huge. Oh, who am I kidding, they are extra huge.

These ham hock thighs remind me of Joey...that is, Joey at about one year old.
But he is rolling and laughing, cuddly and sweet, and always smiley.

Ah, summertime. You have been very good to us. Too brief, but very good.

Adventures in Nuclear Medicine

A little over a year and a half ago, we spent some quality time at Children's Hospital with our son, Josiah. So when we returned this morning with our 3-month-old Adam, it was a familiar scene. Just a slightly different cast of characters.

The MAG3 is a procedure performed to observe the function of the kidneys. Both of Adam's kidneys have shown to have an enlarged renal pelvis (the part that collects urine before it is released into the bladder), and his doctor ordered this test to find out why, and also to determine if it's something that will need to be fixed or something he will grow out of.

We did a little research and asked some questions and felt that we were fairly well prepared for what to expect from this day. We knew that he would have a catheter put in place to keep his bladder empty. We knew that he would need an IV to inject the material that would be traced by the scanning equipment through his little body. We knew that he would need to lie "still" for the better part of an hour, if not more. We knew that the staff at Children's is excellent and we could trust them. And we knew that it would be just as hard on John and I to watch as it would be on Adam to be watched.

What I was not prepared for was the sheer intimidation of the machinery when we were escorted into the room. I kind of had something in mind like an ultrasound machine in a little exam room. Maybe a few computer monitors and some wires. And of course a paper-covered table.

But the door opened before us into a room that seemed the size of a gymnasium, and the site of The Machine literally took my breath away, not to mention a wall covered with computers, and a door labeled "DANGER: RADIOACTIVE MATERIALS." Just to think this was necessary to look at the inner workings of my tiny son.


But then I looked around and saw Dumbo and Winnie the Pooh on the walls. And I saw the smiles on the faces of our wonderful technicians. And none of it phased Adam who seemed to be grinning with his whole body at anyone who would come close enough for him to see.

You know, it wasn't fun -- being strapped down for over an hour, the placement of the catheter, the concept of nuclear medicine, and the difficulty of finding a vein for his IV (who knew that baby fat made it so difficult? -- oh, and does my boy have rolls!).

But none of that is what brought me to tears.

It was the kids.

It was the families walking through the lobby, or waiting their turn in admissions along with us. It was the kids with casts and leg braces and wheelchairs. Kids with masks and rolling IVs. Kids with oxygen tubes. Kids who were visibly ill. Kids who clearly were used to this place because of how often they were there.

I remember having these same thoughts and feelings a year and a half ago, but in the distraction of getting Adam there this morning, I had forgotten. And I was not prepared. It broke my heart all over again.

We don't know what tomorrow brings, but we are relieved that this morning is behind us, and as grateful as we are to have a place like Children's Hospital so close to home, we hope and pray that we won't have the necessity to become too familiar with that amazing place.

I hugged all three of my 'babies' a little tighter today.

On why I don't use the phone

I wish I had my video camera handy tonight. Or at least a witness. But I'll try to paint the picture for you...

John wasn't home yet, and I was working on getting dinner together.

Adam was crying (simply because this is the fussy time of day for my two-and-a-half month old baby).

Josiah was in his own little world, playing with his cars and singing 'Mary Had A Little Lamb' at the top of his lungs.

Lucy decided that this was THE moment she just HAD to explain something to me about the game she was playing on the computer. In a voice loud enough to be heard over both of her brothers.

And I just busted out laughing. How could I help it? This is my life. And I love it. I love my little noise-makers.

But next time you try to call me, realize that this is probably what's happening on the other end. Which is why I most likely will not answer.

Give me a year or three and I'll call you back.

In honor

In honor of Memorial Day, I wanted to direct you to one of my favorite blogs and this amazing spread of photos that brought me to tears for so many reasons.

Kindergarten: The End

There she goes. The last time she'll look so tiny walking into her school, carrying a backpack that is half as large as she is. The last time she'll be among the smallest and youngest kids going through those doors.

A whole year of school is behind her. Finished. Accomplished. She's grown so much, and I don't just mean that she's taller.

Today was the end, but really it's just the beginning--of our first summer break! And of realizing and trying to grasp that I have a six year old first grader. *Gulp*

We had a fun morning celebrating with her class, but as she gave her teacher one last hug the tears began to flow. I almost lost it, too, but managed to hold it together and give her a comforting hug. Phew!

From those who have gone before me, I'd love to hear that it gets easier with each year, or at least with each child. But I have a feeling there are very few words of comfort out there for this sentimental mama to hear...