the white trillium blanket of the forest floors in spring.

soccer.

spring training.

gymnastics.

water break.

cotton ball clouds.

pretty light.

tired little hiker.

ben’s spot.

exploring.

tired little hiker gets a lift.

panera opened.

sweet notes.

goofy kids.

thrift store finds.

homemade soup.

bringing the beauty in.

sweet tea.

spring banquet.

best friends.

my grade nine youth girls.

grade nine girl leaders.

good big brother.

sprinkles.

sweet girl.

colored toilet paper. {finally someone read my mind}

kate’s play.

evening walks.

sunsets.

****

if you’re planning on moving to a new blog address would you mind leaving that link in the comments.
i know several have moved and i’m already missing who went where.
i’m working on opening a feedly account to keep them all in one place and having the links together to copy over would be helpful!

i’m headed to wordpress also.
funny that i talked of moving from xanga months ago…
even think i was misunderstood by some who read and thought i was saying i was out to be the next great blogger.

oh, well. those who know me or care to give me the benefit of the doubt know that’s not what i was about.
and after all, once i looked into it more, making money from your blog is not as easy as just sticking a few ads on the side.
it’s way more involved than i ever care to be.

i never want blogging to feel like a job. it’s just something i love cause i like writing and most of all..
a bunch of my friends hang out here too!

but. now that xanga might be shutting it’s doors i’m suddenly all sentimental and not wanting to leave.
it’s like that sweatshirt from high school you can never quite throw out.
old. outdated. whatever. it’s your favorite. it’s comfy.

xanga will always be a favorite sweatshirt that holds some of my sweetest memories.

to my kids-

you don’t really know it yet. not really. the incredible dad you have in this man.
you see it some. just not in full. we never really do when we’re kids.

i smiled at your notes. reading how you adore him. the pride you have.
every child feels that of their dad, i think.
the light that sets off in their eyes that this.. this is my dad!
i’m grateful i still see that light in you.
some dads quench it out so early. not even knowing. not even aware.

you wrote how you wanted to be like him when you grow up.
i’m glad. i don’t mind one bit. i hope you do and i hope you are. more like him than me.

but someday. someday you’ll know more what it’s meant to have a dad like this.

when you’re gone from home. from here. when you leave us.
when his words will ring over in your mind and you’ll want to remember…
try to remember. what did dad say?

girls. you’ll know a good guy when you see him.
one that will cherish and honor you.
you’ll know what that looks like. you’ve seen it here.

a guy that knows the strength of being a servant.
a guy that has self control and not consumed with himself.
a guy that sees your heart not just your body.
a guy that puts your needs ahead of his own.

yes, you’ll recognize a guy like that easy.
you’ll say, “he reminds me of dad.”

ben. you’ll know how to be that guy.
what it means to value a woman. to show her worth!
to be tender with her weakness and respectful of her equality.
to act with integrity and always be a gentle man.
you’ll know how to treat her because you’ve seen how your dad treats me.

you’ll know what a dad you had when someday you’re getting up while it’s still dark to go to work.
whether sitting at a desk or working in the blistering heat.
when you feel the weight of financial pressure closing in.
the responsibility of providing…
the fact that a dad’s provision goes way beyond his mere physical work.

and on those days, when it all bears down and at times feels too much.
suddenly, in one of those moments you’re going to realize…
this is what my dad did for me every single day.

and at some point. someday. when you’re all older and grown up you’re going to stop and think back.
think how you never knew… never knew the burdens perhaps he carried. never knew the heaviness of his heart.
because always, he walked through that door each night with a smile. you all running to meet him.
and tanned and tired and sometimes discouraged. and yet you would never know. because for you he was always strong.

when maybe other dads would go for their paper or t.v. when they would want to be alone and not bothered.
he would stand there by that swingset pushing you a hundred more times.
and, “just one more under doggy please daddy.”

he would listen to your tales of the day and play dutch blitz and help with homework.
later slipping into each of your rooms and kneeling beside your bed, praying with you.
hugging and kissing you goodnight. telling you he loves you.

do you know some kids have never heard their dad tell them they love them?

you’ll know what a dad you had someday when you have kids of your own and suddenly all dad said will make total sense!
you’ll get the rules and boundaries and say, “thank you God that i had a dad that cared.”

and someday if you live far away and wish he were near.
you’ll hold on to all these things even more.
his words. his wisdom. his affirmation. his time. his laughter. his hugs.

and in those hard times of life. when nothing makes sense and you feel you can’t make it through..
you’ll find yourself holding onto something far greater than what any earthly father can give you-
the hope of your Heavenly One.
and you’ll know He can be trusted and relied on not only because you were told that
but because you saw it lived.

i was always that kid that couldn’t go to sleepovers.
i never made it.
i always ended up in tears, my parents having to be called.

even as a teenager i wasn’t a whole lot better. 
i remember at fifteen flying to this girls conference thing with the homeschool group we were part of. 
i hated that week. i was miserable.

tracey, a girl from my hometown that i didn’t really know at the time flew out to the conference with me.
she would later tell me how i talked incessantly the whole way about a recent trip to my aunt’s house in atlanta, georgia where i was supposed to stay with her for several weeks until her baby was born but i only lasted like three days and i had no idea how i was going to survive that week at the conference because i was already so homesick.   

tracey would later go on to become one of my closest friends.

and we still laugh about our first flight together. though i tell her i have no memory of carrying on that way!  i mean, over sharing with basically total strangers doesn’t sound like me at all!! ; )

so, it’s kinda funny when you think the kid who couldn’t stand to leave home would move 800 miles away. and twice!

the first time, as a newlywed, felt much different than the second.

the first time it was about beginning a new life. an adventure…

maybe i read too many janette oke books growing up. her canadian west series!
and the idea of the rugged northern frontier and canadian mounties and wolves all held a wide eyed fascination.

but in reality i was like every other normal girl that fell in love with a guy -
and wherever he happened to be is what would become my home. location didn’t matter!!  
though that was before i’d lived a winter here.

the second time i moved here was much harder…

instead of beginning a life, we were uprooting one we loved.
and though i still felt a bit of that canadian adventure in me, i was far more concerned with how the “adventure” would effect the four tender souls entrusted to my care.

but my reason for moving hadn’t changed. i loved this man and where he went i wanted to be.

homesickness is a strange sort of feeling. it just kinda settles in right around your heart and never really leaves.
and the silliest things can trigger the tears.
like standing in the brand new opened panera line yesterday..
a lady behind me mentions how glad she is to finally have panera in canada.
saying how she and her husband eat at them all the time when they go to florida. 

“they’re just all the way down 75 south..”

i smile. and tell her i know.

“75 south is what takes me home. i’m from cincinnati.”

and then she slaps my arm and starts talking all excited about the times they have stopped there and what a pretty city it is. and i listen and feel tears, not because i’m sad. not really. but because we both share this mutual love for a place dear to my heart and yes, i miss it.

i really came face to face with this a few weeks ago when shayne started his first monday morning back in the land of the self employed.
it was a change i knew was coming. we had talked about it for months. it was all in the works.
the company he was with this past year had been great! and he’s still doing some subcontracting for them…
but financially we needed other options. 
and when some opportunities to be in business for himself again came up, shayne thought it was the best route.

it’s weird though how you can know something’s coming.. and yet it still take you by surprise!
like the drop on a roller coaster. you’re slowly going up.up.up. higher and higher. and you know what’s on the other side. you anticipate it. it’s why you’re on there to begin with. that thrill!
but then. then there’s that pause at the top. that pause for a split second that’s just long enough for your life to flash before your eyes and suddenly you think this isn’t such a great idea after all!  you want off. you want out. and hey! those stairs that run alongside the tracks are there for a reason!! thing is, there’s that heavy metal bar across your chest holding you in. you’re already committed. there’s no backing out. so what do you do? the only thing you can – - shut your eyes hard. hold on tight. and scream at the top of your lungs as you plunge straight forward down towards the earth at eye watering speed!  

i’d say we’re still in that “drop mode” around here. or maybe that’s just what it means to be self employed. ha!
but the biggest adjustment for me wasn’t the switch from the norm. the security of an every two week paycheck. the loss of  benefits. or having a company truck or computer or perks… it was coming to terms with the realization we’d be staying here longer!

i remember the first time it hit me. we were driving somewhere together, shayne and i. he was talking about things with the business and since i’m not really a very business minded kind of gal i just sat and smiled pretty and nodded my head. but then, he mentioned something about 6, 7, 8 years down the road and i felt like my brain went fuzzy. i think i was still smiling and nodding but i wasn’t hearing a word he said. after awhile he asked, “babe? you listening?”

“huh?” i said snapping back to attention, “uh.. no. you kinda lost me at the 6, 7, 8 year thing…”

this move here was never supposed to be long term. it was never the plan. 
and though i said i “surrendered” my plans to God, suddenly surrender looked entirely different. 
and that moment in the car was one of those moments on top of the roller coaster. that pause.
hello! let me off this thing. this is not what i thought it was!!

because yes. surrender rarely is what i think it is.

giving in to something just because i know there’s no other option or way around it is not surrender.
doing what i need to do to get by until i can get back to the plan i wanted is not surrender.
even resolving to not be miserable but look for the joy and live in the moment, is not surrender either.

surrender only looks one way. 
arms out. hands open. self abandoned. holding onto nothing except Jesus.

there’s been way too many times in my life where outwardly i had all the right appearances of surrender.
good at looking the part. but inside – a heart full of resentment, even bitterness at what God was doing.

i’m done with that. i want it to be real.
i want what i’ve grown up my whole life saying i believe to truly be what i believe!

it’s not easy. surrender never is. 
oh, talking about it. singing the songs and quoting the verses is easy.  

but when God says, “now live it.” and maybe living it means living it someplace 800 miles from family we love and friends we miss. a place that’s familiar and a country that’s ours. maybe living it means giving up how i thought life was supposed to go.. yeah, that’s the hard part. 

but even as i write that.. even now. i know i’m not going to consistently live like i believe that.
i’m going to forget what i write here. i’m going to get tired. i’m going to doubt. i’m going to think all this surrender stuff is for the birds!
i’m going to stand up and want off this ride.

but i also know this …

no matter what, i’ll come back to the same conclusion. i always do.
this isn’t unfamiliar territory to me. trusting an unknown future to an all wise God.
He and i have traveled this way before together. many times now. 
and same as before, i’ll struggle. i’ll want to give in. to give up…
 but He’ll love me just the same and let mercy draw me back.

i’ve always liked that bible verse that talks about the Lord rejoicing over you with singing.
but it wasn’t until recently the first half of it really stood out to me - 

“The Lord your God in the midst of you is mighty.. He will save.”

and it’s that word midst. in the middle. right in the thick of it.
that’s what i loved. what i needed a visual of.

He’s not on the outskirts. standing by. merely cheering us on. 
He’s not an observer of our life. He’s a participant.
not standing there hoping we make it through.
but helping us through. walking us through. sometimes, yes, even carrying us through.

He’s in the middle of our lives. He is mighty and He never stops saving us!
 
“many are the plans in a person’s heart..
but God’s purpose’s shall prevail.” prov. 19:21

i don’t want to be here simply because i’m here, i want to be all here.
maybe it’s not forever. maybe it’s for who knows how long. but it is for now.
and i don’t want to live life waiting on the life i want and miss the life of TODAY!

i might be screaming at the top of my lungs.
and my knuckles might go white from holding on so tight.
but i’m holding.