How the Light Peeks Through
I’m not even sure I know how to tell you how glad I am to be writing. I am at my own desk, in my own room, in my own house that has a driveway and a dishwasher and a laundry room. Glory. A while back, I thrifted a midcentury desk with one of my favorite peoples on the planet, and that’s where I’m sitting. Above it is a painting by another dear friend, and it makes me want to roar and weep and laugh, which is perfect. This is the writing room, the place I somehow remember strangest details. I don’t have any clue where I put my cell phone (no really, I can’t find it) but then can sit here and remember the exact smell of the dresser drawer in my great-grandmother’s guest bedroom. It’s where she kept the fancy white gloves. Let’s hang out some time, and maybe you can tell me what it’s like to be normal.
I’m on fire again, or rather, I feel God’s hand on the knob and the flame is starting blue. This time it has happened a different way. Before, He’s picked me up off the floor and said, “Let’s do this.” This time, He said, “Remember what I told you? I’m right here. Now get up and do it.” Obedience brought the fire. A near lifeless step of faith brought the wind.
Before I dive into all these things that make me tremble, I want to give a little glimpse into our world. Let me set the flowers in the scene, because there are so many sweet things. I’ve had dark days, but just look how the light peeks through.
We live 2 hours from Branson, MO where you can go to this awesome redneck theme park called Silver Dollar City, and I’m telling you that it is every kind of fun. Much to the dismay of my Common Mama Sense, I rode roller coasters with my little babies, and I was sure that we were all going to watch each other die, but then we didn’t. It was a blast.
My big boys have started a black-belt journey under some of the most amazing leaders. They are trained to live lives that honor and respect others. Here’s a pic of Ian blowing me kisses instead of listening.
We had been living out of boxes for weeks, not knowing when or if or where we were to move, and we were at the peak of terrible when I promised my oldest that we could go to the pet store because there was to be some awful reptile exhibit there. We already have a snake, and it has already grown ten times its little baby size, so that already gives me the highest points on the awesome-mom scale. Even still, I took him, and there were no special reptiles. Thank goodness.
The thing about that day is that it was the 2nd day of a round of steroids I had to take for some health things. Let me tell you. When I’m on prednisone, I am a freaking rock star. I conquer the world, and then I melt down on top of it. In other words, one minute I’m spectacular, and the next minute, I’m Kookoo for Cocoa Puffs.
That day at the pet store, I was walking the isles hiding from Isaac. Tears ran down my face because we were living in utmost chaos at home. But then, there in the back was a little table where some sweet old ladies had rescued three little dogs off some back country road. I am from the country, too, where we have always had yard dogs that like to chase chickens. Yard dogs are usually pure-muscled muts that like a neck scratch once in a while. When they holler at coyotes, you holler back and tell them to hush. It’s a simple, loving relationship, so therefore when it comes to sissy little yippy house dogs, I just never understood …
until I saw Lucy with my crazy prednisone eyes. She is a girl. I have four boys. She had a bow in her hair, and I liked the bow, but then they had put a yellow dress on her, and I was like awwww no you didn’t; somebody get that nasty dress off my dog. Then I spent $100 of my grocery money to get the job done, and that was that.
So here I am with my girlfriends, drinking a glass of wine and holding a frou frou dog that I COMPLETELY love. I think next I’ll monogram my minivan and only wear sweater sets. Who am I?
Seriously this summer, I just got so mixed up. I wasn’t sure how to act in public, but one night I made it to a going-away party for some dear friends, and we sent them off with blessing and poetry and stories and tears. I wish as a teenager I could have seen 18 years into the future at this beautiful night, all the hysterical real. How gaudily happy we were.
A few weeks after that, the Blase family came to town. John Blase is our brother. We’ve known it for a long time, just one of those things. He prayed us through the failure-to-thrive time. If you don’t know and love him, go to his blog now. When I imagined meeting John and his amazing wife Meredith, I really thought I would clobber him and then ugly cry or something completely dorky, but I didn’t. We ate barbecue, and my kids were awful, but it was cool.
We asked Ian to take our picture.
Then Titus turned two. He weighs what my other ones did when they turned one, but we aren’t worked up about it anymore. We had a pirate party, just the brothers, and he got a tricycle. They helped plan the decor and yelled surprise and handed him a sword when he walked into the kitchen. I made gluten-free, dairy-free, egg-free cake, and you could have broken a tooth or played hockey with that thing. Just so you know, kids will eat anything if you put blue icing on it.
A few days after that, I was beginning to wake up, wrestling with guilt for missing out on so many good things that God had for me. I felt like a big rotten brat and asked for nothing for my birthday, especially after accidentally buying a bunch of dumb stuff from eBay. Anyway, Seth still took me to dinner, and my best friend showed up as a surprise. I think it was the best birthday of my entire life. I don’t even know how to explain.
Now Ian is in kindergarten. The three big ones started a new school, and despite a rough first day, they completely love it. They have amazing teachers and have all made friends. Now I get four more years with Titus, alone on little Lucy walks. I point to a truck and say its color. He repeats me all day long. Everything slowed down in a sudden.
We had signed contracts on two different gorgeous homes that ended up having issues, and it wasn’t wise for us to buy them. We sold the rock house and had nowhere to go. We lived with my best friend for nearly 2 weeks, and then we housesat for another dear friend during the other 6 weeks.
So much is temporary. This house we’re in now is a rental, and it is precious. It is small. The oven looks like a microwave, and the stovetop has buttons. I’m pretty sure I could never look at another box again.
If you’ve read this far, then you know more about me than most people who talk to me in real life. Let’s be friends on the facebooks.
Now tell me about the light peeking in on you, too.