Who Will You Be...

As I sit here and admire your perfectly formed little fingers grasping mine, and listen with enchantment to your tiny little voice cooing to me, I can't help but wonder who you are and what you will become.

Will you be a farmer like your handsome Daddy?

Will you build houses like your Uncle Tim?

Will you operate a big bulldozer like your Uncle Reagan and Cousins Benji and Victor?

Bella Baby Photography

Or will you be a famous chef and own your own restaurant?

Will you be a mechanic and make cars and trucks purr as they should?

Will you be an engineer and design beautiful and helpful things?

Will you be a woodworker like your Grandpa Jim and build beautiful furniture?

Will you be a missionary?  (My mama heart shudders a bit with dread at this thought. Perhaps some surrender is in order.)

Will you be a pastor who guides his flock with humility and grace?  (A church close to your mama of course!)

Bella Baby Photography

Who will you be?

Will you be a sensitive and shy person like your big sister?

Or will you be a social butterfly like your biggest sister?

Bella Baby Photography

Will you enjoy animals like your Daddy?

Or will you detest them like your Mama?

Will you be gentle, kind, and patient like your Daddy?

Or will you have to learn the hard lessons of humility like your Mama?

Bella Baby Photography

Will you be a leader or a follower?

Will you enjoy school and learning new things like your Mama?

Will you be stable and dependable like your Daddy?

Will you admire good and desire Godliness?

Bella Baby Photography

Will you like math and all things numbers like your Daddy?

Or will you be a master storyteller like your Grandma Kay?

Will you have a servant's heart like your Grandma Sharon?

Will you have business savvy like your Grandpa Bill?

Who will you be my little man?  So much potential wrapped in such a small package.  

 I look into your little blue eyes and see intelligence registered there, I marvel at your ready smiles given as a gift just for me, I know who you'll always be to me.

Yes, he's a thumb sucker.

You'll always be my ray of sunshine.

You'll always be my child of promise; a gift of life and love from my Heavenly Father.

You'll always be a handsome reminder to me that God is faithful.

You'll always be my smile. (Even if you use a Sharpie marker on my furniture and walls.)

You'll always be my precious, one and only "Bubby Baby". (I can't promise not to use that nickname when you're 32.  Just a warning my little love!)

You'll always be mine. 

I'll always love you.  

THAT my son, you can bank on.  

Honoring Dad

My father has been gone for about seven years now.

My father and I had some differences and our share of relational struggles, but today I choose to honor him.

When I was a youngster, I HATED math.  Still do.  I despised long division problems in particular.  Our school books had endless pages of long division problems and each page contained around 20 problems.  (If you are one of my former teachers and you wish to dispute that, I challenge you to look it up.  PACE 79 or 80 I believe. Seriously.  It was wretched.)  

I spent many tearful and tired hours doing that junk.  We had to do 4 pages a day.  I cannot tell you how evil it was.  I had one merciful, sweet teacher who saw my struggle and crossed out a problem or more on each page.  I seriously considered kissing her, but I held myself in check.  (Thanks Mrs. Beachy!  You were, and still are awesome!)

But I digress.

My dad was really, really good at math.  When he saw my intense struggle, he grabbed a piece of paper and sat down with me every night and worked them out with me.  He never gave me the answers, but he helped me to think it through and gave me tips on how to figure it out faster.  His mercy saved me HOURS of homework.  We could zoom through a page in no time.  Instead of me working on math from the time I got home from school until 10 at night, we got through it in about an hour and a half.  I will always be thankful to my Dad for helping me.  I couldn't have gotten through it without him.  

I came along late in my parent's lives.
I think Dad was around 42 or so when I was "hatched"
as he used to so eloquently put it.

My Dad was old school.  If I got into trouble at school, I knew that my rear was in hot water and Dad wasn't gonna save me.  That knowledge more than anything kept me in line.  Even when the punishment wasn't just, he told me to buck up and take it.  So, I did.  There were a few detentions that I served that I shouldn't have, but Dad taught me to take the hit and move on.  It seems harsh, but it was good for me.  It helped to shape my character.

When I got to high school math, my Dad couldn't help me anymore.  He had to quit school in the 8th grade to stay at home and take over full responsibility of the farm.  Yes, take over the farm.  At 14, he became the main man working on the family farm.  The youngest of 9 children, he was the last male left at home.  You have to respect that.  He had the work ethic and maturity to make the farm go.  Impressive.

My Dad was an inventor at heart.  He could make useful stuff from the junkiest material.  He designed and made a log splitter from scratch.  His wood working skills were amazing!  For my 16th birthday, he made me a full length mirror which I still have and treasure.  It stands in my bedroom and I use it everyday.  He and Mom also built me a doll house which is in my attic just waiting for the girls to become old enough to appreciate it and take care of it properly.

This was my first and only bottle calf.
His name was Buckey.  Dad created a little cart
and harness out of stuff lying around the farm.  The only
way to get Buckey to move was to hold his bottle
out in front of him and run like the wind.
Dad wouldn't let me have a horse, so I had to settle for
a bottle calf. I have no idea why Mom took the
picture sideways.

One of my first memories is of us chugging out to the field in our old red Ford pickup to do pigs.  He'd throw my four year old self into the truck bed and then corner mama sow in the hut and try to capture her piglets without getting killed.  He'd catch the squealing babies and hand them to mom who would deposit them into the back of the pickup.  It was my job to recapture them and hand them back to him one by one as he gave them shots and clipped their tails and teeth.  (Do not ask my why they do that.  I have no clue.  I was only 4.)

My big bro is sitting on the fender and Dad is holding me while I hold
two squealing piglets.  Clearly I loved pigs. 

At the tender age of 8, he put me behind the wheel of our pickup and gooseneck trailer and told me to follow him around the field while he picked up and loaded big round bales onto the trailer.  I was scared spitless, but he trusted me.  His trust in me boosted my confidence.  From then on, I took every chance I could get to drive the pickup!  I was very road ready by the time I got my school permit at 14 thanks to Dad.

When I was around 15, he taught me to drive our old 4020 John Deere tractor.  I hauled big round bales in the summer. I lined those suckers up in straight rows!  I was pretty proud of myself!

Dad taught me the value of working hard.  One summer we made a 5 barbwire fence around the entire farm.  It was hot.  I was miserable.  The job needed to be done and so we did it.  Just to clarify, around the entire property was a few miles.  It took nearly every day of that hot and miserable summer.  

One summer as he baled hay, the big round baler was having issues with breaking belts.  It was my job to run and pick up the belts and drag them to the pickup and have Mom take us to John Deere to get new.  As Dad was driving through the field, he stopped and pointed animatedly at the ground.  I sighed and took off running through the hot field.  Sure enough, I saw a dark "thing" on the ground.  Assuming that it was the belt, I approached without caution.  I was about 5 feet from the "dark thing" when I realized that it was a HUGE snapping turtle!  I took off running at full speed for the pickup.  I stopped halfway back and turned around to look at Dad.  He was sitting up in the tractor busting a gut laughing at me!  If I remember correctly, he almost fell out of the tractor, he was laughing so hard.  Thanks Dad.

He taught me a lot about life.  He wasn't perfect.  Then again, nobody is.  I'm grateful to have had a man who stuck with his marriage vows and taught me so many valuable lessons about life.

This Father's Day, I'd also like to recognize my husband.  I know, I can just hear you saying, "AGAIN?"

Yes.  AGAIN!!

In this day and age, we see delinquent dads all over the place.  Abusive fathers.  Absent fathers.  Sometimes it makes me wonder if men have any feelings at all.  I wonder if they possess any compass within that points them toward responsibility and love for their families.  After some of my personal dealings with men, and the deep hurt I've endured, I tend think the worst about the male gender.  I wonder sometimes if men really can be trusted.  If they have the ability to truly love.

Then I watch my man.  

All I can say is, he's the best!  The girls know that they are safe with him.  Physically, and emotionally safe.  I tear up when I see them curl up on his lap or see him reach out and grab the nearest girly and tickle her until she's breathless.  I've seen him crouch down and take a crying little girl into his arms and comfort her after she's fallen on the rocks. The bedtime routine is spent with him singing to them and listening to endless prattle.  He has infinite patience.

I see the calm that he brings to overly dramatic female situations. We need that.  His gentle words and tone bring peace and even giggles to tense moments.  We need him.  

 I'm amazed at the amount of time that he spends doing things with them.  He pushes them on the swing that he made for them, daily.  And not just a few pushes, we're talking serious swing time!

 He honestly likes to spend time with his little people.  Sometimes is really blows my mind because (while I love them to the moon and back) I just can't get into the whole "imagine with me" thing.  Apparently I lost my knack.  Together they've imagined being on a ship, Bethlehem, Kings and Princesses.  (He makes for a terribly handsome King!  Just sayin')  He allows them to poke and prod him as they pretend to be his doctors.  (Do you have any idea how much a "shot" from a pencil hurts? Seriously. I've since refused to be their patient.  Though Daddy put his foot down on a throat swab.  Can you tell, we've had a lot of experience with the doctor this last winter?)  He allows them to beat up on him and he just laughs.  

He diligently teaches them about the things of God.  Devotions are done regularly every morning.  Prayers from the little ones are encouraged.  Kurt does his best to point our babies to Jesus.  It warms my heart.  I think that sometimes he feels a bit discouraged when it seems that no one is listening intently to devotions, but they're getting it.  I respect him and love him for his efforts.  They will not be in vain.  The girls are listening, even when one is hanging upside down from her chair (Honestly, I don't think she can hear much unless she's moving.  Sitting still makes her crazy.) or the other girl is dashing to the bathroom for an emergency.  They're getting it Daddy.  I hear it throughout the day.  Keep it up.

Daily devotions.

His anticipation for the arrival of our third baby is an awesome thing to behold. I mentioned before that I sometimes question a man's ability to love; the excitement I see in his eyes when we talk about bringing this baby home (and it was the same for our other children) lets me know that men really do have the capacity to love and love deeply. My husband's care for us is proof that there are good men on this earth.

He works hard and long hours to provide for us.
I don't think he'll ever know just how much that means to me.
I truly appreciate his desire to take care of us.
I am blessed.

 All of the above are marks of an outstanding Dad.  A Dad that deserves a capital "D".  His little girls adore him.  They know that when they walk up to him, whatever he's doing, they will be recieved with love, excitement, and total acceptance.  That knowledge is priceless.

I learn a lot from watching him.  I'm a goal oriented person.  I've got a task and I want to get it done as quickly and efficiently as I can.  Kurt has taught me to slow down and take in the "little" moments.  To enjoy the sound of our 3 year old's voice.  To listen intently as my 5 year old describes a bug to me.  To put aside the dirty dishes and go outside to visit them in their playhouse.

I'm honored to be Kurt's wife.  I don't deserve such a good man.  He makes me crazy sometimes.  Crazy in love and sometimes crazy mad, but he's mine.  I cannot express to you just how much I admire him.  

My husband is a rare treasure.  I'll keep him forever. He just keeps getting better and better with time.  After nearly 11 years with this man, I am still amazed that God has given me such a gift.  

Happy Father's Day to all the Daddies out there!  Especially our Heavenly Father!  The best Father of them all!  

Be blessed Daddies!

Daddy's precious girls!

The God Who is Good

If you could read my personal journals from the last three years, you'd see a myriad of emotions.  They range from confusion, anger, distrust, hurt, to frustration with God's silence.

You'd also see gratitude, victories won, forgiveness extended, surrender, and recently, a slow bud of trust begin to bloom.  You'd see the work of grace in my life.

As I was doing my mundane chore of washing the dishes, it occured to me that one doesn't have a personal relationship with anyone unless all of those emotions are present at some point. It's "normal" in this crazy fallen world.

My life has contained many twists and turns these last few years.  None for which I was even remotely prepared.  I thought I was happy with my life, but God rocked my canoe.  He tipped it, and there I was, in the water feeling as though I was going under.

I've railed at God.  I've ordered God around. I've turned away in anger at the path that my life was suddenly taking.  Everything that I knew was suddenly in question.  

Is God good?

This is the question that I battled.  Is God good?  As I laid my broken and bleeding heart before Him, I felt nothing.  It felt like I was tenaciously following what seemed to be a mean God.  I cannot stress just how close I was to giving up on Him.  But I just couldn't bring myself to walk away from Him. 

I cried.  Buckets.  While folding laundry, on my knees scrubbing the tub, or mowing the lawn, I cried.  I didn't like the changes.  I was uncomfortable with the path I was suddenly on.  Why didn't God work things out so that life could go back to normal?  WHY?

I have never battled hurt quite as badly as I have the last three years.  Never.  I've been through some rough stuff, but this was the icing on the cake.  I still find myself reeling from the hurt some days.  It's slowly fading as I turn my eyes on Jesus and off of man.

I just wonder sometimes how long it will take before the pain completely ebbs away.  How long until I don't care about what man thinks and I can handle certain earthly situations without my heart bleeding and tears falling?  Sometimes I get scared that I won't ever heal.  When a deep trust is broken, the heart becomes so tender.  It becomes hard to trust God when people hurt you.

God hasn't "fixed" my situation yet.  He may never this side of heaven.  I don't know.  Most days I don't dwell on my pain.  Most days I'm fine.  There are just certain triggers when the hurt, anger, and sense of betrayal arises and I ache all over again.

Some people struggle with the question of whether or not God is BIG enough and SMART enough to run this world.  It's kind of a different way of wondering if He really is good.

The hard conclusion that I've come to is this: He IS.  He is BIG enough, SMART enough, and He IS GOOD.  He IS the ANSWER to every life question. Though, there IS pain and suffering along the way.

I'm learning that, as I lay down my whole self and allow Him to take over and guide my hesitant steps, He takes me in the direction that I need.  Not necessarily the easy path I'd like, but if I want spiritual muscles, character, and an abiding peace, I MUST follow His way.  I'm going to be honest and tell you right up front, it sucks at times.  No sugar coating it.  It's miserable, but oh, so rewarding!

I have always had a hard time understanding the concept of grace.  I didn't understand how to live it out.  I didn't understand fully just how it applied to me.  It was a fuzzy understanding at best.  I cried out to God to show me the meaning of grace.  

And He has.

I understand now how to extend it to others.  I fully understand the price of the cross.  It makes sense now. I've been in a church now for a year and a half where I've seen grace in action.  Firsthand.  Modeled to me. Extended to me.  This has been pivotal to my healing.  This new understanding of grace and how it works.  

God has taken me down a personal path, picked just for me.  I've hated it, but I'm also grateful for it.  I'm still in the process of surrendering.  I want Him to have all of me...in theory.  It's excruciating to give up dreams, fears, and especially people, but it's vital for a close walk with Him.

What twists has God thrown in your path?  We can either allow Him to use our pain to strengthen us or we can become bitter and turn away.  I've walked the path of bitterness against God, and let me tell ya, it's a dead end...and you're barefoot...walking on Legos. I'm serious.  It's best to just give in to Him right away.  

Maybe you're confused and not sure exactly what He is requiring of you.  

Been there.  

I'm no expert, but I've found it helpful to draw closer to Him.  It may seem like you're trying to hug a cactus, but I assure you that you're not.  Put aside your hobbies and interests and clench your fists around the hem of His garment. Hold on to Him because your life depends on it.  Put your head down and barrel through the dirt with your eyes on His feet for direction.  He'll drag you if He has to, but rest assured that you have His attention.  

Read the Bible, pray, praise.  Repeat. 

Be dogged.  Get determined that you're not gonna walk away until He gives you direction.  When you recieve direction, HEED IT!  RIGHT AWAY!  Don't argue.  Trust me, it doesn't work.  Furthermore, you might not want your begging and pleading to work anyway, because His path is best. 

His path doesn't have to make sense to you.  Mine made absolutely no sense.  None. I didn't want to change.  I was a happy, miserable person.  (Yes, it is possible.) Boy, am I glad He called me out of where I was to a much better place!

It also helps to lay down your pride.  Yep, that's a hard one too.  He may take you through a valley of humiliation, but you'll be better off for it.  You may be lied about, your character slaughtered, or you may loose something or someone dear to you.  Who knows how God in His goodness will humble you. Just remember that the valley of humiliation doesn't end in defeat unless you allow your pride to win. Your spiritual ears will be better tuned and your thinking as well as actions will be changed to be more Christlike.  

I'm not one to give advice.  I know my failures.  They haunt me sometimes.  But maybe that makes me qualified to give advice.  Maybe someone else can be encouraged because I spoke up.

This may sound strange, but read Isaiah, and Jeremiah. God led me to those two books and I've found so much peace of mind there.  The Psalms offer comfort too.  Maybe God will call you to a different book.  He's pretty personal.  He's pretty amazing.

Whatever you do, DON'T GIVE UP!  God hears you.  I promise.  He will show you.  Because He is good.  Deep down, bubbling with life, GOOD!  He loves you.  

If you need prayer, I'm here for ya.  It feels odd to put that out there like that, but I truly mean it.  I do not have all the answers, but God does.  I often get private messages from people who read my blither blather and I pray for each one. 

My personal list of comfort verses:

Isaiah 28: 23-29  God does not chastise us forever, but makes us into what He wants us to be. BECAUSE HE IS GOOD!

Isaiah 30: 15, 18-21

Isaiah 35: 4

Isaiah 41:10

Jeremiah 17:7-10 & 14

Lamentations 3:21-26

Ezekiel 36:26

Zephaniah 3:17

There are more.  So many more, but allow God to lead you to the verses that He has for you personally.  He will ya know.  Just ask.  Then wait.  He always comes through. You can count on Him.

P.S.- Read the allegory Hinds Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard.  Much encouragement for someone who is going through a tough time and needs a boost.