And if one man and a small group of men do not approve of where I am and what I do, does it prove I’ve missed success?  No; only one thing will determine that- whether this day I’m where the Lord of lords and King of kings wants me to be. To win as many as I can, to help strengthen the hands of those who fight unbelief in the historical setting in which they are placed, to know the reality of the “Lord is my song”, and to be committed to the Holy Spirit- that is what I wish I could know to be the reality of each day as it closes.

-Francis A. Schaeffer-

It’s easy to spend countless breaths and hours of contemplative thought or brooding as the case may be, discerning the course for life.  It is difficult to navigate an average lifespan of 75 years, to do so well, and to successfully make choices that are wise.

I have never seen so clearly as I have since parenting, the need for independence in thoughts.  Because every which-way that is turned someone, somewhere is choosing a different path.  And it is fear-causing and nail-biting to pay too much attention to the crowd.

What if I am wrong?

What if this ends in disaster?

What if this comprises our future?

Life lived before “an audience of one”.  The only One.   That is all that ultimately matters.  Success is not found in the outer accolades and the raises and the bonuses and the scholarships and fan-fare.  But it is found in the quiet places.  In the invisible places.  It is who we are and what we are making of our lives and our children when either no one is looking.  Or when they ARE looking and disapproving.

It matters that we pay attention to what God says, and then given human independence, what He also does NOT say.

It is tough to be gracious while being independent.  This is something I am learning, and I am learning to become better at it.  When decisive happens, often so does religiosity.  “My way or the highway” is the case more often than not. Slander the innocent, malign the unsuspecting so that:

ME, ME, ME and my large yet insecure ego is bettered.  Take others out with me, so that I am greater and they are less.

But God wants the opposite, doesn’t He?

He wants me to be less, so that He is greater.  And where I am less and He is greater, so are others.  Because love and kindness elevate, instead of crush and bruise.

My early riser. And hence, my devotional buddy:)

Love is the more excellent way.  Always, because the Bible says so.  And so far, Scripture has never been wrong on any point.

So today.  Am I where the King of Kings and Lord of Lords want me to be?

I hope so.  I pray so.  And if I am, I hope that He is glorified here.

This weekend I would have liked to make it downtown.  Leonardo daVinci’s exhibit is about to wrap up at The High Museum of Atlanta. 

Thankfully, I have my  trusty in-home artists who were able to produce their own gallery for me.  And I didn’t have to leave the house or pay for parking, to experience this work.

Art Show '10

 The kids feverishly sketched and colored.  Each had me choose a favorite.  And then I was charged a very bargain-basement price: 5 cents per drawing.

Collection Jar

Anna’s impressionistic drawing of our home on the weekend: morning fires in the fireplace.

Fireplace

Josh’s interpretation of the garden in Spring.

Flower Garden

And Emma’s: I said “Oh, Emma that is so pretty!”  And you know what that booger said to me:

“Mama, it’s BUBBLES!”

Bubbles

I broke into a cold sweat, remembering our past few months, and tucked it away to be admired when I am braver…and the trauma has lessened.

With these little gems, who needs DaVinci anyway?

Colorful little goodies for a well-loved and long-anticipated baby.

Good food to eat.

Lots of love for Baby Townsend.

We can’t wait to meet you, J OR A!

I will never utter the c-word on this blog.  You know, the word for tickets that reduce prices on products?  You clip them out of the Sunday paper?  It rhymes with “moupon”.

I cannot be associated with the frugal blogs, ever. If I were to type in the c-word right now, I would immediately be spammed to death by cruel hoaxters, who would link me up with all sorts of promotional offers for free everything strange under the sun.  Prosthetic body parts and such.

My brother is convinced that most of the frugal blogs are the reverse of consumerism, but a fresh new spin on:

 LOVE OF MONEY. 

 Only through obsessively conserving it, rather than through recklessly spending it.  We talked about this over Christmas.

And I agree. 

Money-saving blogs, though exceedingly helpful on some counts, can lead to a pre-occupation with money that is neither healthy nor good.  A focus on the temporal is just that: temporal.  We will not take any of our crisp dollar bills or shiny pennies with us when we die, so life is to be lived in light of eternity, not the now.  Right?

I get that.  But, I also get this:

28 yogurts for free. 

I do love a good c*upon:)

Knock, knock on the door. 

Hi, UPS-man.  Nice to see you this morning.  You in all your head-to-toe-brownness.  (Could the higher-up’s not be consulted as to the possibility of incorporating one more pigment into your uniforms…just a thought).  

Here you are, and top of the morning to ya, although to be perfectly frank, I heard you approximately 30 seconds before you arrived, roaring up the street.  (Why incidentally, do you use my cul-de-sac to do wheelies?)

For me?  A printer?  Oh, you silly man you.  That is not mine. 

 Hello!  I am a female.  I would not conceive of ordering a printer.  There is obviously a mistake.  I cannot sign the dotted line.

Sure there’s not a cute pair of shoes nestled in your truck of tricks out there?  Your sleigh of goodwill and cheer.  Sure there is not something remotely fashion-related out there? 

Canon Pixma MX860

Just this, eh? 

Well.   Let me think.  There was this one time I had mentioned to Pat: “I would love to have a printer that prints graphics.  So I could make cards and photo transfers for shirts and such”.  But that’s all I can think of off the top of my head.

I mean, none of those dresses I ever liked ever flew on the wings of a dove to my house.  The Gap + Pat’s credit card never came through for me, so why this?

One could say that I am loved woman.  You could even argue that my husband is the sweetest, noblest knight to ever wield a sword.

Or, we could all just be honest.  Call a spade a spade.  And acknowlege the fact that this here Pixma MX860 toy…

… it’s TOTALLY for him.

Wink:).

Modern-day “wisdom” wants to assert that we can do all things.  That there is a world and a place where we can “have it all“.  We can spend money, but still be in-budget.  We can be casual with our marriages and still stay committed for life.   

We can have loads of hobbies and still raise balanced children. We can do it our way, and still have self-less results.

But it can’t be that way, can it?

This is a photo my husband took back when we had Anna and Baby Josh.  A simpler time:).  This is a  photo Pat took near our kitchen sink.  Using his Digital Rebel, and and sorts of settings and backgrounds.  It is a really good shot, and I am proud of Pat’s skill in taking it.

But, the reason this photo stands out to me…is because it’s telling in more ways than one.  Time stood still more back then.

Used to be that Pat and I would tuck the kids in bed and he would drive downtown late at night to get the “perfect shot”.  I remember waiting up for hours, while he waited for hours for the moon to light the back of a building, enough that he could capture what was in his mind.

And then he’d come home and I would look at all his proofs, vaguely interested.  He would be enthused with what he had learned and experimented with.  And I would be happy, because he was excited.  And that made me happy.

But now, he has to sacrifice more.  The days of trolling around for the “perfect” setting and shot, take a back-seat to the best things: the people we have created and want to raise well.

  Nights are dictated by responsibilities: training the kids and working out life with them, spending time together, so that when they are grown and gone there is still an “us”.  And fulfilling obligations to work and church.  His plate is full.  He looks a little more weary, as any Dad of a new baby will.

But, with his daily investment in our family- his tireless work.  His willingness to lay aside the good things for the best things….I don’t know that I have ever loved or respected him more.

Once we were 4.  We had 2 children, and one on the way.

We left Anna and Josh with grand-parents.  And I carried Emma on the inside.  We were celebrating 5 years of marriage.  And thought it a good opportunity to get away and explore.

We walked the streets of Boston by the hour.  And then we drove into Maine and hiked all over.  I was SO tired, but played my game-face well and kept up with our busy pace.

We stayed at a beautiful inn and ate great food.  And we enjoyed the scenery.

And we woke up in the mornings and stood amazed at creation.

And in the evenings, we went out on the water and were…speechless.

I want to go back to Maine.

To see the boats coming in.

Full of lobster.  (Not that I like lobster, but the process of lobstering is very interesting). 

To watch the sun rise and set in a crispness that is only found in the North. 

I want to walk those trails again.

But now we are six.  So, first we need to find a baby-sitter…

…with lots and lots of available energy.

Christmas has come and gone.  And with it the stressful blitz of constant gifting.

This year, I made bunches of ornaments.

And wrapped bunches of ornaments.

The kids love to carry something in hand, to their teachers.  And while as a  class we generally collect money for a teacher gift-card or something “big”, it is behind-the-scenes and nothing  personally presented.  Making something solved the issue of personal pride, allowing the kids to present (and giving $ ensured that the hard-working, underpaid teachers received a “real” gift as well:)).

Any crafting store should carry simple paper bags for 10 cents each. 

These work well hole-punched with ribbon or twine for securing.

Monogrammed transfers can be found with scrap-booking supplies.  (This is how I kept the gifts straight.  One initial per teacher).  Simply rub on.

I lost track of how many I delivered to church, school, etc.  Next year, I plan to make again, but WILL start by November.

Fingers crossed!

Sibling relationships – and 80 percent of Americans have at least one – outlast marriages, survive the death of parents, resurface after quarrels that would sink any friendship. They flourish in a thousand incarnations of closeness and distance, warmth, loyalty and distrust.
– Erica E. Goode

Will saves some of his best smiles for Josh.  And some of the tell-tale wiggles that are baby-bliss, for his brother.  From the first day, Josh has invested in his brother richly.  He hops downstairs every morning, and plunks himself in front of Will’s seat, and pops the baby’s bottle in his mouth without my asking or suggesting.  All the while chanting: “Hey bub-bub.  Hey little guy”.  And Will is thoroughly impressed, gummy grin contagiously warming the room, and communicating utmost appreciation.

Josh is my responsible middle.  My slow-and-steady, my logical and practical.  He is my quick-to-learn and my eager-to-please.  I do not know what I would do without my oldest son.  While the girls are daily evolving emotionally, Josh is steadily the same.

I discuss when I can, the importance of the role Josh will play in Will’s life.  I remind him of the impressionability of younger siblings.  I outline the utter gravity of the decisions he will make through the years, and of how they will influence Will- for better or for worse.

My prayers for these boys are many. I pray for:

*their salvation

*their understanding of and passion for God

*their career choices

*their marriages and future families

*their relationships to one another and their sisters.

And then I pray that they would enjoy one another immensely.  That stretching out ahead of them would be years of shared memories.  And that the truest friendship they ever know- the kind that lasts for life and through anything and everything, would be found in one another.

Three weeks ago, Justin, Grace, Pat and I were able to catch up for a double-date.  Though the original plan was to hike, weather prevented outdoor activity, and we met up for coffee and dessert at Greenlife in the North Shore, instead.  There is nowhere like Greenlife for all things gourmet.

And then we trolled some antique shops.  Justin suggested off-hand, that we should go check out Architectural Exchange, a store dedicated to recycling old bits and pieces of historical buildings.

It was absolutely freezing in the warehouse.  We were bundled up and shivering uncontrollably.  But we walked further and further back in the store, admiring all the somewhat useless things: bits of pottery, iron letters,chipped-up moldings.  I of course, wanted to buy any number of these neat little nothings.  They had such charm.  No intrinsic value to any of them, but I am sure  broad imagination could lead to good use.

Way in the back, there was a huge stack of $5 windows from torn-down buildings.  I love grey.  And this window was perfectly grey.  Needed a long bath and scrubbing.  But it worked out! 

Anyone passing through Chattanooga should definitely make a pit-stop at Exchange.  A little bit of money buys a lot of interest.