Ta-DAAAAAAA!!!!

There is a constant tampering with the vacuume at my house so it was no surprise when i went to vacuume the upstairs of my house and i realized that the middle tube was missing, making it the perfect height for my 3 year old to use.  i called downstairs for my 9 year old to find the missing piece & bring it up to me...
Moments later, he burst through the door shouting triumphantly, "Ta-DAAAAAA!!"
He swung his trophy in a glorious arc and made a huge gash in the wall of our room that Neil had just finished freshly painting after 5 years of abuse... (the walls were abused, not Neil... :) 
We both stood in shocked silence for a minute and then he smiled at me with his teeth-too-big-for-his-face 9 year old smile, "Sorry mom!"
He was still swinging the tube in his hands and i was watching it warily, "k, bud.  Put that down before someone gets hurt."
He tossed it into the hallway & leapt all gangly away.  He took the entire stairwell in 2 leaps humming haphazardly to himself... 
Nine is all gawky & strange - partly grown up with rarely washed hair and teeth that forget to be brushed.  Nine still cries in frustration sometimes, but is learning to listen to reason.  Nine is cheerfully genuine, forgetful and clumsy.  It is the absentminded professor, with good intentions and questions borne of deep thought...
Nine doesn't realize how far his arms will fling when he spreads them wide, hoping to please his mama by meeting her present pressing need. 
Nine is heartbreakingly brief - and sweet and funny - and worthy of the flair of a little captivating entrance. 
So don't cry to me, yellow walls - your fresh coats will come & go - but my son will soon turn ten... and i'm too busy loving nine. 

& then...

All seven lambies seemed to get the same horrible cough... it kept them up at night & robbed the whole family of sleep.  We kept thinking, oh, one more day... one more day... it should be getting better tomorrow - & we'd limp through another interrupted night of sleep and slog our way through sleepy days. 
Finally after three weeks, we decided i had better take a couple of them to the walk in to make sure that there wasn't something else going on.  Sure enough, they got diagnosed with bronchitis, so i drove my babies home & picked up the remaining 5 to take them back to the doctors to get their diagnosis & prescriptions too...
& as i bundled my loves in & out of doctors & pharmacy with my bulging bag of antibiotics... i thought about how lucky i am to have all my chickies under one roof.  These years are so fleeting - and soon they'll be calling me to tell me their children are sick and that they spent the night soothing a distraught child, or comforting a feverish babe... & i'll remember this week of bronchitis - hacking coughs and the smell of menthol & halls & wistfully remember these child-growing days. 
So i'll take this present shared sickness - i'll measure out doses and count pills... i'll make sure my little ones are comfortable and comforted - and i'll count it all joy that these moments are mine. 

he winked at me

My sister described arriving for her daughter's appointment at the pediatric oncology unit and being greeted by a familiar face from her church as feeling like a, "wink from God"...
The image stayed with me after reading her post, because isn't that just like our Father?  Sometimes quietly standing in the shadows - showing us His mercy and love... His gracious compassion... with a wink? 
i have found myself lately in the midst of a really, really busy and heavy season.  i had the prolife conference last weekend, and a music/worship conference this weekend at our church, and as far as my eyes can see into my future, it's full of commitments, appointments and promises. 
And - i can't even tell you this whole story... because it's one of those stories that is still unfolding and unwrapping... & parts of it are mine & parts aren't...
But the part that i want to tell you about is mine...
& it's the part where He winked at me.
i got in my van to head to the church for the first evening of our music conference.  Graham Ord and Norm Strauss were speaking & to be honest, there wasn't a lot else that could have coaxed me out of my house that Friday night.  i felt heavy and blue - weary in a spiritual sense.  My introvertedness was rearing it's ugly head and i was craving solitude.
i was probably only a block from my house, when suddenly it felt like my whole van was full of this heavy, crushing inescapable gratitude for my husband Neil.  Now, looking back on it, i'm sure that it must have been God...
Our goodbye had been casual... Him whispering, "Sneak out so ephraim doesn't notice, k?" and me grabbing my purse and tiptoeing out the door with a, "Seeya".
It was completely ordinary.
There had been no fight, no awesome romantic moment to bring about this overwhelming gratitude - but i was so moved by it that i could barely wait to pull into the church parking lot so that i could text him and tell him how i felt.
i grabbed my phone and typed, "i'm so glad i married you.  Best thing i ever did."
He responded, "Ahh what?"
i persisted, "It just hit me again.  Grateful."
"i am grateful too."
"Love you."
That felt like the moment when God made eye contact with me. 
i tucked my phone in my purse and carefully averting my eyes from my friend's cheerful greetings, i went and found an empty seat to sit in...
i slouched in my seat, letting the words pour over & into me.  Soaking in what i could - and letting the rest sit in puddles around me.  Suddenly norm pulled out his guitar...
"Can we sing a song?" He asked. 
He started to play... and i softly sang along...
father of lights, you delight.... in your children.
father of lights, you never change... you have no turning. 
every good, and perfect gift, comes from you -
father of lights....
Midsong, he stopped singing - and still playing softly, he said... "when i sing, sometimes i like to just sing the things that i'm grateful for."  His eyes were closed, and he turned his face upward and sang, "i'm so thankful for my wife..."
And my ears rang. 
Because it was so unexpected, seemingly out of the blue. 
i felt the whisper in the wind, "you've got something there, paige... I've given you a precious gift & it's something you need to be grateful for."
& i'm pretty sure He winked at me.
& maybe it seems like a funny little coincidence, but how many times do we try to explain away the supernatural?  How cynical and unbelieving we can be when we roll our eyes and mutter, "That's it?  That's the best you can do?"
Because a wink from God... seems pretty significant to me...

15 on first snow day...

Winter is dribbling into fall... & still i find i'm struggling to better understand prayer.
i use my bible - my heart - my mind... to find the words to pray...
& in the silence, sometimes He speaks, and sometimes He's silent too. 
Today my words wouldn't stop - & i'm sure He heard me... but sometimes i long for the thickness of His presence - a glimpse of His glory - a portion of His rest...

If you want to read some of my thoughts about graphic images in prolife work, you can find them HERE... definitely not the be all, end all post... just things that i'm muddling through & learning. 

weakling

i read a post from a mama of 6 the other day who stated unabashedly that she's struggling. & i felt that tiny nudging from deep within to put up a wary hand and and moan, "me too."
Near the beginning of this 40 days of prayer, i reached out to three beautiful women from my church & i told them what i was working on - & would they please pray for me and my family during this 40 days... They said yes & i know they have been praying - because even though i'm struggling - i see His hand working in my pain and weakness. 
My struggles look like what anyone's struggles might look like - a sudden fresh dose of sleep deprivation, a deep hacking cough for each one of my seven beauties, discouragement, insecurity, rejection and wounded pride.  i miss my husband like a child with separation anxiety and i'm so conscious of the burden of worry and sickness that my sister is carrying right now that i don't want to confess to my own weakness - thinking my phony strength will somehow spare her any further distress.  There is a weight that is carried when we enter into - and pray consistently - for the hurting.   & i can admit it with trepidation here:

i'm a weakling.

i told this to one of the ladies who has been praying for me in a furtive email, and she wrote me back, "I am reminded about the verse in 2 Corinthians 12:9... So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me."
& i feel nowhere near ready to boast about my weaknesses - but i want Him to know i'm willing to be made weak.  i want happiness and pretty things - baubles and toys.  i want frivolity and chocolate - and i want romance and tinkling laughter, 12 hours of solid sleep followed by breakfast in bed... But i want Him more. 

So take even my weakness, Father - and let me see Your hand at work... Your grace is sufficient.