Seasons of Harvest.

So far, I've written 42 blog posts for the year.  This marks my 43rd.
In eight years of blogging, I have never recorded under 100 posts, and this year I won't even clear 50.
I find this interesting and very indicative of these past 12 months.
These moments melt me.
Hands down, the hardest year of my life.
Easily the most stressful, the most refining, and the most raw.
Definitely a year that felt more akin to surviving as opposed to really thriving.

I am a woman who balks at change - it totally stresses me.
I am someone who needs large pockets of solitude and sanity to best embrace the swirling chaos.
I need downtime, I need breathing space to rest and regroup, and I need silence.
I love sleep, and I get twitchy when I am perpetually ping pong-ing from one thing to the next.

This has been a year where none of my perceived "needs" have been consistently present in my life.

We sold the house that I loved, and we shared a living space with dear friends - and worried often about being "too much" for them with all of the crazy that comes with six loud people.  I homeschooled two children for the first time, and I found myself to be very divided and often insecure about if I was doing enough or "being" enough for my students.  I had a wild and crazy, whirling dervish of a busy and somewhat high maintenance toddler who - to this day - is hands down my worst sleeper and wakes multiple times all throughout the night....so that I honestly cannot remember the last time I have had an uninterrupted night's sleep.  We moved - twice - in just a little over a year.  Kev got a new job - at a new church. And I went back to work after having several months off for maternity leave.
Snowy owl in our backyard.  Pretty sure he got my boy ducky.
So much change.
So much crazy.
So much "new" in such a short period of time.

And so, it's been a year of looking deep, of having to be intentional in finding joy, and of letting go.

Letting go of my clenched fists that were desperate to hold onto things that were safe, and things that were familiar - things that had used to define who I thought I was, and things that were never mine to claim in the first place.  Letting go of ideals of perfection and of that ever elusive "me time."  Letting go of "grand" and instead embracing "good enough."  Letting go of being able to do everything in my own strength and instead breathing Him into every aspect of my messy life.  This was the year where Jesus was needed most in my life - and it was the year where I felt my brokenness most embraced by my Heavenly Father who knows me well, and who loves me regardless.

It's been a year of seeing God's hand woven throughout all of it - a beautiful tapestry of grace where He has proven Himself faithful time and time again...and where He has "shown up" and shown me rough edges where He has wanted to smooth away and make me more like Him.  Areas that need more grace and spaces that need a whole lot less of "me."

I'm not sure if I am any closer to His likeness or not...

But I do know how desperate I am for Him - and how I know I need to seek His face above all else - as soon as my feet hit the floor each day.  I know I can't do life without Him.  I know I am not defined by things or by status - by my lists that may or may not get accomplished each day - or by the good graces that my children may or may not possess.  I also know that I am not defined by my struggles...or by the cleanliness of my home.  I know that pretense gets me nowhere and that HOME is wherever you hang your hat with your loved ones.

I know that change can be great, and fresh starts can bring Life.
Kitchen crazy...with nary a visible counter top in sight.
I have learned that emptying myself of all things "me" is painful and humbling and that I am not "super Mom."  I am still not sure how to divide my day so as to meet the needs of all four of my children, nor am I certain if they are getting the absolute best education that I could be giving them.  I still hate clutter, and there are days when my toddler makes me crazy.  I'm sorely slacking in the meal department and I can't remember the last time I went for a run.  My Home is full of Whirling, and the laundry's never ending. My brain bandwidth is almost entirely used up from the Neverending Swirling that is my Life...and I sometimes find myself staring into space once the children are down for the night - wondering if I loved them enough, if I held them enough - if I was present.  I experience many days where I'm not even sure exactly what got accomplished for the day, and I've been a slacker in the girlfriend department - letting days and weeks go by before checking in with a loved one...
She eats like a puppy.
But God is gracious, and so are people.
And there's grace to meet each day.

And it is such a good Life - so very full, and so very blessed.
Kevy has not experienced the greatest version of "me" these last few months, yet his love is unwavering and he stands by my side.  My kids show me grace unending, and they love me regardless. The views from my windows each morning bring peace, and His mercies are new every day.

Life is full of seasons, and I know that all seasons pass.
This post made me cry, as this is where I feel I have been as of late.  In the thick of it....
Forgetting sometimes, that Expectation is the thief of Joy...
And that it is the Joy of the small that makes Life large....

And so we begin again this Joy Journey...and we start again the counting...
Because it's good to remember...
And it's easy to forget...
How great is His faithfulness, and how rich is His Grace...

Push to Restart.

~ Silent starts to my day and beautiful sunrises.
~ Seeing grass in December and sweet, happy chickies.
~ Sibling love....and sibling squabbles...
~ Him by my side doing "Life."
~ A church that I love and intentional ministry.
~ A job that I love and co-workers who are friends.
~ Honest friendships - real and raw.
~ Letting go.
~ A sweet little Home - filled to the brim with kids and with crazy.
~ Simple savorings.
~ Footy jammies filled with sweet bundles of Busy.
~ Two blonde pigtails.  And Daddy love.
~ Three boys.  Growing together.  Learning together.  Loving their Mama regardless.
~ New mercies each morning.
~ Grace to face each day.
~ Lessons learning.
~ A Happy Homemade Christmas.
~ Family and friends to walk alongside.
~ A Mama's Journey - and grace from her loved ones.
~ Choosing to see.
~ Embracing Change.
~ Days of Thriving.
~ And Days of Surviving.
~ New Beginnings.....

#5212 - #5235 ~ My Joy Journey

Happy Homemade Christmas.

I think I probably took the very least amount of pictures this Christmas than I ever have before in my life.  Having a phone that takes pictures now, I find it so much easier to snap a quick shot and save it onto Facebook rather than click it with my camera, download it to my computer, and then eventually get it onto this blog.

Too many steps.
So little time.
Homemade Christmas Crack to give to our neighbors.
Saltines.  Butter.  Brown Sugar.  Chocolate Chips.  Refrigerated and Broken Apart.
Deelish.
But, I want things recorded here, and I want things written down so that we can remember -- even if the posts are few and far between.  Little is better than nothing.  Something is at least indeed something.  So, although this next year's blog book will be the thinnest of them all -- and even though this year of life has been the craziest of them all --- and although your Mama has probably felt the most frazzled than she ever has before in her life these past twelve months --- it is such a very good life.

And we are so very, very blessed...
I want us to remember that.
Daily Advent readings...
Trying SO hard to keep the focus on Jesus and not stuff....
Our family memories need to be recorded.
I want them to be remembered.
The crazy right along with the sweet.
And the frazzled and frail right along with the Epic and the awesome.
Because that's what life really is anyway, right?  A nice potluck mixture of it all....
My Christmas Gift to ME.  Happy Homemade by a friend from church.
So, here we go...
Let's remember....

Every year, I struggle with Christmas.
I love giving gifts to my kids, but I hate - like really, really hate - our culture of "gimme."
I love celebrating and doing special things, but I want things to be simple, and I want them to be savored.  I want us to focus on the real meaning of Christmas.  I want my kids to fall in love with Jesus, and I want them to be thankful -- no matter what they find or don't find under the tree on Christmas morning.
Peppermint Patties for our neighbors and my Marmie.
Christmas is tricky.

Birthdays for me are so much more simple.  That's the day you were born, so we celebrate YOU! Let's make it big, let's make it loud, and let's make it all about you! Christmas is the day that Jesus was born, and yet it's hard to focus all of the celebrating on Him when there are gifts upon gifts to be unwrapped with name tags other than "Jesus" on them. Sometimes it's hard to silence the cynic within me.  It's such a weird message we're sending.  And I get it - "Jesus gave us the greatest gift when He gave Himself as a baby....so let's remember and respond by giving gifts to each other in return."  But...sometimes, that just falls a little flat with me.
Christmas breakfast traditions.  I love tradition.
Some year I would love to ditch the whole gift getting all together and do something crazy like go and work at an orphanage or spend the whole day at a homeless shelter or nursing home.  Some year, I'd like there to be no money spend on us -- and every dollar spent on others.  I think that'd be so cool.  And so counter-cultural.  Sometimes I like going against the flow of what everybody else is doing...

And maybe someday we will.

But, for now, we just try to keep things simple.  And I try to get the boys as involved in the spirit of gift giving and Advent waiting as much as possible.  We made little treats and cards for all of our neighbors, we made lots of homemade presents for each other and for others, and the boys went shopping intentionally for each other as opposed to merely looking for gifts that they themselves would like to have.
Christmas morning Christmas story reading.
 (Kaden wrote everyone a super sweet little card with fun little illustrations)...

And I do love the magic of Christmas.
I love the child-like wonder.
I love doing things for my children that bring them joy.
And I love being intentional.  With our money.  With our time.  And with this Holiday.  Balance is good.

And while there were days when the boys were flopping over in their chairs with boredom during our Advent readings...and while there were times that we were Christmas shopping for a sibling but we were more focused on what we were hoping to get for ourselves for gifts....

I still hope - and believe - that little tidbits of truth were sinking in.
I can see with each year, a growing maturity - a growing sense of joy in giving a gift as opposed to just receiving.  I see them catching onto our theme of "Happy Homemade" and simple pleasures.  I heard thank-you's before there needed to be reminders, and there were many unsolicited hugs of thankfulness.
I have no words for this picture.  None...
This makes me happy.
And my family makes me happy.

The love my boys have for their sister and for each other is one of the greatest gifts for this Mama's heart to see.  My husband of 15 years - still my most favorite person - and still the Hero of my Heart makes me super happy.  Jesus coming down - wrapping Himself in human flesh - and loving me always and forever no matter what really makes me happy.  These are my greatest gifts.  All things that no amount of money could ever buy.  We are indeed blessed beyond measure...pressed down and filled to overflowing.

The gifts under the tree were just a bonus...

The Messy Miraculous.

"Maybe sometimes the miracle begins by growing not in bitterness but in faithfulness - because, for all its supposed sophistication, cynicism is simplistic.  
In a fallen world, how profound is it to see the cracks?"
~ Ann Voskamp ~

It's the radicals of this world - it's us Jesus lovers - who need to actively look beyond the broken...who need to break wide open all of those cracks of messy and of madness so that His light can rush in and shine all over everything...

That's when the profound happens.
All it takes is looking in the mirror to find something broken and full of holes...
It's the looking beyond all of the that...and the getting out of the way of myself... where the miracle can be found.

...In my heart, first.
And then in the scales that continually seek to blind my eyes.

Expectation is a thief of Joy.
And fist-clenched agendas don't allow for any Jesus room.
Telling God how it is going to be never allows for Him who knows best to give His good gifts.
And thinking I know best never works out well for anyone...

Only by finding Joy in the small are we able to make our lives large.
And only by meeting Him right square in the middle of the mundane are we able to see His miracles.
Sibling Love.  Sharing Popcorn.  Simple Joys.
 This life...
These days...
All the crazy.  All the chaos.  All the days of wondering if I am messing it all up all the time...

All gifts.
All full of miracles and of goodness and grace, if we but look for it.
Happy Homemade Christmas.
Because it's comparison that destroys contentment.
And it's by looking on the surface that makes us shallow.
It's not about the hype...
And it's surely not about all of the money that's been spent wrapped up under our trees.
Now this.....THIS...might be what's it's about...
It's when we get caught up in the crazy and the rush of what the world says Christmas is about when we lose the wonder of the mundane...and the simplicity of how our Savior came to us in the first place...

The miracle surely came in the mundane that day so many years ago.
Who would have ever dreamed of a baby in a manger...

So maybe it can come during the washing of my dishes, too.
And during the diapering of my baby.
Maybe even through the breaking up of brother fights.
And through conversations raw and real with a loved one.
Five brother boys.  Reunited.  Making Messes.  Living Life.
Maybe finding humor - and not going postal - when your toddler drinks potty water...
And maybe choosing to let him bake with you - and overlooking the epic mess you know will follow...
Maybe by being patient with the one zillionth question that is being asked.  Again....
And maybe by greeting him with a kiss and a "welcome home" instead of a list of gripes and grumpy...

Maybe those are all little miracles in and of themselves, as well...

Or ~
Maybe it's the single Mama bravely YouTube-ing "how to tie a bow tie" before her little man's Christmas concert.  Or the single Daddy braiding hair.  Maybe it's the couple who is about to implode who bravely reaches out for help.  Willing to stoop low.  Willing to make things work.  And willing to make themselves humble before others.  Letting Jesus shine through all their cracks...

Maybe these are the little miracles swirling all around us during these days of crazy and the moments of mundane.

These days of emptying self...
...of selfishness being refined.
...of humbling acceptance that He is needed all of the time.
Of knowing that He is God, and I am not.
And seeing afresh and anew that He daily bears our burdens.
He daily lavishes with good gifts.

Maybe by believing that God is - where we doubt that He could ever be - and maybe just by surrendering it all back over to Him is where the hope and the grace can all begin again. Right smack in the middle of seasons of dryness...of seasons where we have to look a little harder and trust a little more...

Maybe those seasons that are a little darker might even be the seasons where He finds most delight.
After all - in the darkest places are when we can see His light the brightest.

And isn't this the message of Christmas, anyway?
We are a mess.  We will never save ourselves.  We are broken.
And none of that matters...

Because, unto us a Child is born...and we are saved.
Crayons.  Broken and bleeding.  And they are beautiful.
Just like us.

"Christmas cannot be bought.  It can only be found.  
And you only really believe in Christmas when you really live it.  When you light a dark world and the unexpected places with a brave flame of joy; when you warm the cold, hopeless places with the daring joy that God is with us, God is for us, God is in us; when you are a wick to light hope in the dark -- then you believe in Christmas."
~ Ann Voskamp ~

I believe.
And His mercies are new every morning...

Advent.

So, December...
You're here and it's almost Christmas.
Not quite sure how it happened - and guaranteed, I'm not feeling ready for you.
Kaden got the honor of choosing the tree this year.
We just put up our tree and decorated it -  yesterday morning at 6:00 a.m. to be exact - because that's the only time all six of us will be together until the weekend.  We have just begun our Christmas shopping... and I feel like I am just coming up for air after a good, strong 18 months of almost drowning...

I am a Mama tired most days.
And I am a woman overwhelmed all the others.

Many many mornings I wake up with nothing to give and with five sweet souls needing me Present.
And aware.
Awake would be awesome, too.
Jesse got the honor of putting on the star.
London is my alarm - crying loud at 5:00 a.m. or before, and the instant my eyes shock awake, my nerves fray taut, and my temper flares.  It's not my favorite way to start my days -- frazzled before I even roll out of bed.  I like to start my day silent - a strong hour before anyone in the house even stirs. I want a strong pot cup of coffee flowing through my veins before I slip into the Mama mode that will last until nightfall.  I want time to sit, to be still, and to orient my eyeballs and my brain before the day begins.

And so I am frustrated right along with being frazzled.

And guaranteed, if I don't like the woman looking back at me in the mirror, my loved ones around me probably aren't digging this version of me, either....
This reminder in my living room is much needed.
I want more.
So when Advent rolls in all quiet and unassuming - but begging us to slow and savor - to be still and be present...to focus on what this season of whirling and swirling madness is really all about anyway...I am asking Jesus right along with the blind beggar to help me see Him.  For real, this year, Lord -- let me see You.

You claim the wandering, and the wondering - the wounded as Yours.
That's me this Christmas season.
You have grafted me into Your heritage, and Your story - You have written me into Your heart.
I need that reminder this Christmas.
Show me, Lord...
My most favorite Christmas decoration.
During this season of Advent, You have given us this gift of time to wait...and to countdown...to help us stay awake and to not miss You.  That's what I need this Christmas season.  More than ever, I need to be reminded.  Advent - it is made of the moments, the slow unfurling of grace...

Oh how I need that slow unfurling right to the depths of my soul...
It's a good thing she's cute...
And so...
While I have never been more tired, and when I have never felt so busy...
In a season where I feel as though I have nothing left to give, and where I can't even catch my breath...
What I also know is that I don't need more time...
 I need a better use of it.

And while I dream of uninterrupted nights of much needed sleep...
I can't remember the last time I cracked open my Bible...
And when I can't hear His still, small voice for all of the Crazy that's swirling around me...
...and for all of the cobwebs that live in my brain...

I know that I need Him.
I need Him more than I need my sleep.
Christmas tree decorating breakfast.
So, when London awakes for the day, I get up too.
I turn on a flashlight for her in her crib, and I give her a snack and some toys.
I shut her door, and I brew some coffee.
And while the rest of the house sleeps...He meets me where I am at.

And He reminds me...

That He will provide His grace for the gaps.
He will give it where mine is depleted.
He will give His joy where I cannot find my own.
And He will fill to overflowing...
Because He is faithful.
Time with Grammy fills in the gaps, as well...
And Advent is the perfect time to be reminded.

"He comes to us not in spite of our failings - but precisely because of them.  Ours is the God who is drawn to those who feel down.  Ours is the God who is attracted to those who feel abandoned.  Ours is the God who is bound to those who feel broken.  This is grace.  This is reason to slow.  And this is the dream that comes true - that makes all the stressed things come untrue:  the real amazing dream is that there is [nothing I can do] to climb up to God, because Christ came down to get me.

This is the hallowed Here...
Hurry always empties the soul.
Jesus is my ladder who hung on that Tree...so that I can have the gift of rest.
The work at the very heart of salvation is the work of the very heart of Christmas:  simply rest.

Here is Holy." ~ Ann Voskamp

Love came down to help us in our helplessness.
What a great place to be.
That's always worth getting up for in the morning.

Emptied to be filled, I am...
Joy restored.
Peace overflowing.
Grace to meet each day.

...Because His mercies are new every morning...

Cease striving.
Be still.
Know that He is God.