If I've Done it Once...

**This post was started  a few weeks ago, in the midst of packing/moving**

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So, lately Dustin and I have been a little frustrated.

And that frustration has been directed at the three beautiful gifts God has given us.

Olivia

Deacon

& Levi

My frustration comes when I've packed a box and the next day it's not only been emptied, but spread out into every crack and crevice, under beds and in drawers, etc...

How?

WHY??

Frustration comes too when I back over the newly purchased (for Christmas) scooter that was left laying in the driveway behind the van. After we have told them and told them to make sure to put away their toys so that doesn't happen - again!

This was NOT a good mothering moment...

I throw the van into park, then my pregnant self out the door after I feel the crunch of scooter under my tire. I then stomp to the back of the van, pick up the bent scooter and very dramatically throw it into the center of the yard. I then stomp back to the driveway, pick up what's left of the wheel and fling that into the yard to join it's destroyed significant other!

And there were witnesses. Four of them to be exact. Yes, my 3 children and my much afraid sister-in-law whom I don't think had ever had the privilege of seeing THAT idiot side of me.

There was silence in the van when I returned. Silence on their parts at least. No, I'm not done fuming quite yet... yes, I will leave you to assume the worst of me.

Then there is DQ who so willingly goes outside to pack up the shed and the yard only to find his tools and various camping items have been dispersed across the yard, up in the tree house, left out in the yard and woods and rain for who knows how long.

And when he goes to use the drill finds that that must have been one of the items left out in the rain, therefore is no longer in working order. And he is left to use a good old fashioned screw driver to take apart cabinets and dismantle them from walls.

We have been quite the disgruntled set of parents.

We were venting about such the other day and as we were talking I was reminded of a passage in Romans 8.

For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear,

but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we

cry, "Abba, Father."

The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children.

Now if we are children, then we are heirs - heirs of God and

co-heirs with Christ... (vs. 15-17)

God calls us His children. I'm sure there are many reasons for this. He is the Father. We have been given a spirit of sonship, adopted, we are His heirs... But I think the main reason is because, well, we act like children!

We tear apart what's been put together, carelessly throwing aside the important and disregarding the holiness of God and all that He calls us to. We try to fix, but instead of fixing, we just make a bigger mess. We are demanding, we whine and complain, and are ungrateful. We run ahead or lag behind. We push and we pull wanting to move faster. We are impatient.

We as parents deal with these kinds of issues on a daily basis. And oh the frustration! But let us have eyes to see that we are no different.

And let us not miss an opportunity to be reminded of the love of our Father. I wish I could extend that love purely to my own children. But see, I am a child myself. I am learning right along side them. So how is it that I get so frustrated with them when I am guilty of the very same things? But oh how much deeper my sin goes... it's really not the same at all.

That brings an even bigger challenge. How can I, who has been made co-heirs with Christ, who has received so much grace from my Father - who tells us to call him Daddy - how can I then not show that same love and compassion and patience to my children? Their offenses being so trivial compared to mine...

I pray that as I continue to learn these lessons, my children will be spared the vision of Mom loosing it and throwing the scooter pieces across the yard. Hopefully instead they will leave my home with a deep sense of the way THE Father casts our sins into the depths of the sea and remembers them no more. That no matter what the offense, His grace and love transcends them all.

Now hopefully I can put their unpacking skills to good use when we move into the new house!

(Which we did and are loving by the way. I can't wait to start on THAT post!)

I Called Him Fat Man

Today I want to write about my brother just a bit.

You see, it's his birthday tomorrow and birthdays always trigger memories for me. About the person who is having the birthday. And about what they mean to me.

I am trying to get better at writing these down. Maybe one day all my family will have a birthday post... maybe.

I was 3 when Hunter was born. I don't remember much about that time. What I do remember mostly comes from pictures. So I remember he was fat. Very fat. And we called him Fat Man (as in Bat Man). We'd even sing the "Na na Na na Na na Na na Na na Na na Na na Na na .... Fat Man!" theme song to go with it. He loved it.

We played a lot together growing up. I remember always loving him. We would play Sunday School and line our stuffed animals up and tell them about Jesus. We would sing songs that we made up and record them on cassettes. We would play in the woods - A LOT. We built tree forts and dug deep holes (deep as in 6ft. deep) and played war and swung from rope swings. So much so that I wanted to be a marine when I grew up or a police woman, either one.

When we moved out to Seabrook, we loved the dirt roads and never wore shoes. We crabbed and fished and even almost got stranded in a canoe when our anchor didn't quite reach the bottom when we stopped to eat a sandwich. We played man hunt with friends and roller bladed and rode bikes and always, played in the woods.

I remember being really scared once. Hunt was around 7 or 8 and he got hit in the head with a baseball bat at baseball practice. I held his glove tight while I waited for him to come home from the hospital. I couldn't put it down because I was so scared. What would happen if he didn't come home? But he did.

He scared me another time when he fell from about 30 feet up in a tree when the rope snapped. He landed on his back and the wind was knocked out of him. And the wind was knocked out of me. And then I started screaming and ran to the house to get help and I don't remember but all I could scream was, "Hunter's DEAD!!" At least that's what they tell me. But he wasn't.

And then he just made me mad when my boyfriend (now husband) would come over to see ME and would end up goofing off with Hunter instead. I loved going to youth group Friday nights because Hunter couldn't come with us. But then he became old enough and he started coming too.

By then I didn't mind so much. Because I still just really loved him.

Then I remember he started hanging out with this girl. And I remember feeling so relieved because I just wasn't sure who he'd end up with. Especially after hearing all of our growing up years that he wanted to get married in his truck and live in the woods. I was a bit worried.


And when I'd try to get him to confess his love for this girl, he would deny it and tell me they were just friends. He was such a liar. I mean, they were just friends, but he really WAS madly in love with her! I knew this for sure when it was her birthday and he asked me what I thought he should get her. He hates buying people presents, I thought. Yep, a dead give-away.

That's me on the left with my arm raised, we were singing. Hunter comes next (see why I was worried), then there's Dustin, see why I loved him? And believe it or not, that's Ames with the short hair, see why he loved her?

And they did get married. But it wasn't in his truck. And I guess you could say they did live in the woods. So it seems he picked the right one.

But before the woods, he graduated from college. The first Marcy to graduate from college. And I was so proud. I wonder if I every really told him that. I was sad that I wasn't at his graduation. I remember having to be somewhere else out of town, but I was going to try and make it anyway, and then it started pouring rain and I had a nursing baby and it just didn't happen. But he had his girl and I knew he didn't need me.

I remember another moment when I was so proud. We were in Ukraine. It was my first trip there, the trip that captured my heart. We were a team of five and we went to do English camps with college students. Man it was fun. Our last Sunday there we traveled to the town of Litin. We gave our testimonies and then the guys were asked to preach. I remember looking over at Hunter, he was writing on a scrap piece of paper. I quickly realized, he was writing out his sermon. He should have known better, they always ask the guys to preach! He was nervous. And he did his nervous thing, he looked as if he was about to cry. But he wasn't. That's just his nervous look. I think I cried a little though. Just a little, as I listened to him preach. Somehow that scrap piece of paper ended up in my Bible and I kept it for a long time. In fact, I think it's still there.

I'm not sure why this picture is so blurry! But this was us, Ukraine 2006.

And then the woods.

I remember hearing it for the first time. That they were going to leave, him and his girl and that we wouldn't know where they were. That it was dangerous and he was taking his gun. For 6 long months I wouldn't see him or know where he was. He would be hiking. The Appalachian Trail. And I was scared again. Kinda like when he got hit in the head. Or fell out of that tree. I'm his big sister, it's my job to be scared a little. It's my job.

But it's my job to be proud too. And I was. So proud. This was so HIM! And I wished I was going too. Like I would have when we were kids.

I remember praying for them in the middle of the night, now nursing another little baby. That he would be safe and would come back home. What if he didn't come back home? But they did.

And life was normal after that. We had our families and now our little sister had a family of her own. And we had grown up and it was just a little bit weird but so good at the same time.

Then I was hearing the words again. They were leaving again, but this time to hike the Pacific Crest Trail. I was a little upset. Ok a lot upset. I wanted him here. I didn't want to have to be scared for him anymore. I wanted things to just be normal, safe. I mean who has a brother that hikes two stinkin' trails for 6 months at a time!!

I guess I do.

yes, he's wearing a skirt.

I told him I was mad. But of course I waited until the day they left. I know, such good timing. I didn't even give him a good good-bye hug. I felt hurt. And if I was being honest with myself I would have said that I didn't want to be left behind again.

A lot of words were spoken. But I remember him saying that we both had that adventurous spirit in us and it was ok for him to go. Just like it's ok for me to go when God calls me. So I had to let him go. And I did.

So I started to pray. This time it was during the day, no nursing babies this hike. But I wasn't as scared as I had been before. Because I had let him go. Finally. And if they didn't come back, it was because God would take them home. And I was strangely at peace with that. But they did come home, I mean to this earth-home. And again, I was so proud.

It's been 27 years that I've been a big sister. Mostly all fun. But some of it has been hard. Loving involves hurting sometimes. You know, like having a heart ache.

So thanks for putting up with this bossy big sister of yours for all these years. I like to think it's made you into a better man. So, your welcome, Amy!


Another reason why I love this guy -

And another -

Happy Birthday, I love you Buck.

Refuge

We are finding refuge this week.

For last week was a very long, difficult week.

We moved.

We lost a cat.

We buried the daughter of  dear friends.

We are finding refuge in a new home and in the arms of the Father.

We aren't claiming to understand. We aren't claiming to be strong. We aren't even pretending to be happy. We are sad, grieving and exhausted.

We plead with you to pray for our friends, who without any warning were forced to say good-bye to their sweet baby girl the very same day they said their first hello.

Once again, we are reeling.

And once again we are seeking refuge under the wings of the Father.

The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer,
³my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge,
my shield, and the horn of my salvation,
     my stronghold and my refuge,
my savior; you save me from violence.
⁴ I call upon the LORD, who is worthy to be praised,
and I am saved from my enemies. 2 Samuel