Creation

The box under Asher's bed holds treasured creations. There's the almost straight lines he drew when he was 2, the hand print turkey from last Thanksgiving, recent attempts to write his name (complete with a clearly drawn "A", the proud mother said!), and now his first identifiable drawing, a smiley face. I'm amazed at how quickly his artistic abilities have taken off since he started preschool. Now he colors close to the lines and works on drawing even straighter "straight lines." I watch his little artistic abilities grow and love encouraging this God-given desire to create.

I share Asher's excitement over making beautiful, tasty, and even useful creations.

Those rows of holey uneven yarn still hanging on the needle, waiting for me to learn how to cast off, represent my recent attempts to learn how to knit.

The bare walls in my kitchen where wallpaper hung yesterday morning show my intentions to create an updated space for my family.

And even the dozens of paper scraps lying here around my desk hold the beginnings to that next great article waiting to be written.

As summer has clearly given way to fall, as I button my jeans that popped open last year at this time because of the life growing inside of me, evidence of God's creative hand are everywhere. His creation story began thousands of years ago with an amazing garden, hilarious yet scary animals, and people, in the image of the Creator. And He continues to create.

Red yellow and orange leaves, squirrels hustling across the road, developing babies, and even the smiley faces of a three year old. His creation, and inspiration for us to exercise the gift of creation ourselves.

What do you love to create?

Whether its baking a scrumptious apple pie, singing joyfully, or knitting a few rows, attempting another washcloth, make creation a priority on your to do list today and glorify your Creator whose passion for creativity we share.

Three signs

1. No Dogs.
2. No Babies.
3. I love you!

These were the 3 signs Asher hung on our porch a couple of months ago. Don't look for them if you stop by, they exist only in his mind.

The first sign shows his intense dislike for dogs. Whenever we see at dog at the Farmers Market, walking on the trail, across the street, a mile away, anywhere, Asher launches into a dramatic soliloquy. It usually goes something like this (read in a very loud intense voice):

"Oh no! What is that creature up there that I don't like with its tongue hanging out? I do not like dogs! The whole earth is covered in dogs and none of them are nice!"

And so, we have a sign on our porch announcing that dogs are not invited to our home.

We are still puzzled by the third sign. It must have been hung because we ask Asher to say something nice whenever he says something mean. The nice thing he says is usually "I love you." So a sign on the porch covers anything mean he will say?

The second sign announcing his feelings about babies was our most troublesome one. It might as well just have said "No Amelie." because she was the motivation for hanging the sign. For over a year, Asher has felt the need to yell at babies and talk about how there should not be any babies allowed - anywhere.

When we actually brought a baby into our home, you can imagine his dismay! For months he has talked about how he doesn't like his sister and regularly describes very creative but mean things he wants to do to her. The most entertaining of those ideas has been to cover her in sap.

But out of the blue this weekend, he told us that he took down the No Babies sign on the porch!

And he has been absolutely true to his word. From that moment, he has loved his sister. There have been no more mean words directed to her, I don't have to shield her from being "hidden" under a pillow and he wants to give her a kiss every night.

Somehow he softened towards her and has not looked back. Babies are now allowed and welcomed in our home.

Sorry dogs, maybe your sign will come down soon.

Out of the office still

A year ago today, I packed up my cubicle and left the office for the last time.

I still don't regret the decision to be at home full time, but I do miss going to work more than I thought I would. I loved the researching, writing, working with interns, and presenting in my old job, but I think its getting dressed and going to the office that I miss the most.

My business casual clothes hung in my closet all year and I look at them some mornings and consider dressing professionally. But then I remember the items on my daily agenda include changing diapers, playing at the park, wiping crumbs off the floor and I reach instead for clothes that better fit my mommy profession.

Some days this year I've watched jealously as Walter grabs his coffee thermos puts on his dress shoes and drives away. I don't really want to drive away from my family, I know I would miss answering a hundred times a day why I go to the bathroom sitting down instead of standing up, but it would be exciting just for one day to rejoin the sea of employees walking into the office building.

Over the past year I've learned to enjoy drinking coffee while feeding a baby instead of while chatting with my coworker, George or hearing Sheryl's latest cat story.

I've birthed a baby rather than a hundred research papers.

I've met with other moms to strategize how to resolve potty training issues before preschool starts rather than deciding how to meet a request from the top floor that needs to be on his desk before the end of the day.

I've received payment in hugs and kisses instead of merit increases and bonuses.

And this last reason makes it worth every day I stay at home instead of making that trek up four flights of stairs to my old desk.

They are my investment in the future and the reason I stay home.

The mystery of Badtalks

We were so anxious yesterday at our church picnic to finally get to meet Asher's friend, Badtalks!

Every week we peek into Asher's Sunday School classroom hoping to get a glimpse of this blond haired boy. Our son, the one set on doing his own thing regardless of who is joining him in the activity, declared to us over a month ago that he had met his "favorite friend in the whole world!"

Immediately we asked what his name was. Typical to a three year old, he had no idea but only that he was a construction worker, just like him.

So the next week, we prepped him with a conversation he should have with this mystery boy. Asher was to introduce himself and then ask the other boy what his name was. Well, it was reported that the conversation did take place, but the other boy did not disclose his name.

How disappointed we were. Visions of meeting this fun boy, inviting him to our house for playdate after playdate and encouraging a life long friendship had gone by the wayside.

To compensate for not knowing the little boy's name, Asher gave him a name..."Badtalks." And so I've found myself so eager to drop Asher off each Sunday hoping to get a glimpse of this favorite friend. While the teachers pin Asher's name onto his shirt, I question him in a whisper about if he sees a "special" friend?

I am so overeager to meet this boy and all because Asher so excitedly told us about him weeks ago. I've thought about this child I don't know and wonder what kind of magic influence he has to make our son actually talk about how much he likes a friend. Badtalks is a friend I want to know because of the praises of my son.

So does anyone want to know my friends because of the good things I say about them?
Most importantly, does anyone want to know Jesus because of the praises I declare about Him?

Have I told enough people about
- His goodness to give me a wonderful husband and happy six years of marriage?
- His compassion to answer my constant prayers for another child?
- His provision of wonderful stay at home mom friends that I love hanging out with?
- His sovereignty and perfect timing for my parents to be home while Walter studies?
- His refreshment, restoration, peace, joy, and hope?

And that's just getting started.
I doubt I've told enough people but now I've told you! Jesus is way better than Badtalks! I hope you will meet Him as well.

I'll never know

Everyday, I walk around the house and ask why.
Why is the kitchen rug neatly rolled up and laid on the living room couch?
I will never get an explanation that makes sense.

And this is the way life is.

God also doesn't and doesn't need to explain.

Like he did with Job, God gives and takes away without needing to provide any kind of eplanation.

He takes houses, jobs, loved ones, dreams, and we are usually left wondering why. And that why is left dangling, usually for a lifetime.

We can guess, try to figure it out, and speculate on God's working, but we won't know why until we meet Him in His presence and then it will likely by the furthest thing from our minds.

I don't know why God has allowed pain through His fingers, but I also don't know why He allows joy through His fingers. And it is good and right to accept them both.

Moment to remember

It was a moment.

A moment when time stood still and we basked in the uniqueness of that exact point in life. There have been few moments like this in my life.

At the altar of Christ Church saying "I do."

In the crystal waters of Vieques floating and snorkeling while Walter dove after a sea turtle.

Swinging furiously in my hammock tied to the top deck of an Amazonian lineboat under a sky filled with an infinite number of stars.

On the upper bunk of an Ukrainian train feeling the first blasts of air conditioning and hearing ABBA sing "Dancing Queen."

And now I add, standing on the track watching my son round the bend to complete his quarter mile run ALONE.

Not the only little boy to run alone, or the fastest, but my son. The one who needed constant encouragement from daddy running beside him all summer. The one who previously wanted to run like a slug.

He ran. Alone. Far away.

After I recovered from the disbelief that he would actually run by himself, I found myself lost in the symbolism of the moment.

He was so far away and I was supposed to just stand and watch. If he stumbled and fell, it would take at least a minute for Walter or I to reach him. If it started pouring down raining, he was over there, on the other side, all by himself. It seemed he had never been more independent and I had never been so amazed at what he could do when he put his mind to it. Just a small green shirt putting one foot after another. Amazing.

There was no bribing, no begging, no ordering to "march faster soldier." He took off without a backward glance and ran the lap not stopping even when he passed by the construction cones.

I stood mouth gaping open, lost in the moment.

Sisters Forever

After school, Becky (my sister) and I would rush downstairs take our positions on the couch and turn on Full House. We loved watching the Tanner family tackle family issues. But DJ and Stephanie were especially near and dear to us since Becky and I were about their ages and could each understand the challenges of being the older or younger sister.

The girls usually had some kind of disagreement, but always ended the show as the best of friends. Of course, Becky and I have had our similar ups and downs. Having a sister, especially one as patient as mine has often given me the falsely-perceived liberty to say whatever I think and let the grump monsters out to attack her. But as a sister who knows me well, she forgives and we move on.

I can't think of anyone more selfless than my sister (although my husband might be in the running) who focuses so much energy on serving others.

One afternoon, when the Tanner sisters had an especially difficult fight and in a moment that could possibly be the cheesiest moment of television history, they ended their disagreement with declaring to each other that they are "sisters forever"!

Becky and I pulled that sappy moment into our own relationship and often close our notes and letters reminding each other that we are "SF".

Today my dear sister has a significant birthday and I want her to know how special she is, how thankful I am for her and that I love her!

Happy Birthday Becky!!
SF