Thursday, July 28, 2011

Roses are Red.

Violets are blue.
No matter what happens.
I will always love you.

Last night, I came upstairs after "reading" time to tell the kids to turn out the light. "But, Mom, I'm writing a poem! (must be read with a whine)" I looked down at D'arcy's paper and all she had was Roses are Red. But sometime between the light getting turned out and me going upstairs to get the laundry this morning, she finished it. I rewrote it for you above in case you aren't an expert in six year old English.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

A vacation is not complete

without a little travel time.

water baby #4.

aka the one who doesn't mind the water crawling for her. aka the one the other three adore and stop to say hi to.

water baby #3.

aka the one who just wants to be big like his brother and sister. aka the one who still dawdles while eating even after four hours of play in the sun.

water baby #2.

aka the one who tans. aka the one who needs a hug and a little shove every now and then.
FYI spider man trunks are "awesomer" than plaid ones. Yes, spell check just confirmed that "awesomer" is not actually a word but I think it drives home the point.

Stopping to say hi to his sister.

water baby #1.

aka the fearless one. aka the one who never gets tired. aka the future blond bombshell. aka the one who gets random hives from the pressure of the tubes.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

July 4th weekend [part two]

Please forgive that our grass isn't cut and our kids have tangled hair. We were too busy having fun to care.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Life is fierce.

Last Tuesday, a girl I went to high school with died in a car accident. I think the last time I saw her was probably ten years ago at an Applebee's. That is to say, I didn't know her well then, and I didn't know her at all as an adult. But to hear that someone your age is alive and well one minute and dead on the scene the next brings to mind the old adage that life is fragile.
And although my life will not be impacted by this woman's untimely death, this saying has meaning to me at this moment in time. You see, on the day that my sister's second daughter came home from the hospital, my mom went to the OB/GYN to have some painful symptoms checked out. They found endometrial cancer. I connect those two situations because I don't see there timing as coincidence.
My friend asked me not long after my nieces were born on June 16th how I felt about them finally being here. I told her I was relieved that this stage in the life of our family was ending. For years, our family had prayed and hoped that my sister would be able to have more children. We all grieved when her sons were born much to early and died the day they were born. We've been holding our breath that all would go well during this last pregnancy, and on the day Tessa came home from the hospital just a week after her sister Eowyn, it seemed that we could all exhale. Kyle, my brother, would soon be bringing home their son from Ethiopia, and then we could just spend time enjoying each other. We were going to have a reprieve from difficult, emotional situations. And then my parents sat us down to tell us my mom had cancer and all of a sudden that reprieve was stolen from our family.
My week had prepared me a bit (in a weird way) for this news. On Tuesday, we had a plumber come to fix a pipe that was leaking water. The water was dripping from our piano room ceiling onto our hard wood floors. It seemed to be a quick fix, and I breathed a sigh of relief when he told me the dollar damage. But then on Thursday, D'arcy went to take a shower and two more leaks sprang up. An old house is sort of like having a two year old, just when you've picked up there seems to be a new mess. I have a two year old. And a four year old, a six year old, oh, and a ten month old. I'm familiar with this cycle. And sometimes life is like that too.
I felt all sorts of emotions on the day my mom told us she had been diagnosed with that horrible, fear inspiring word. Mostly, I just couldn't imagine my life without her. I couldn't imagine my children's lives without her. What a hole there would be in our family. I felt sadness for my mom that she had to walk this difficult road both physically and emotionally. I was also just angry that we were being jerked back into a struggle for life.
As I've brought my emotions to God, he has encouraged me with these thoughts. First, that although we might not have a reprieve in life's circumstances, we can find our rest in the Him. His Holy Spirit will well up inside of us if we invite it to bring peace and joy. And secondly, that although life seems fragile, it is actually quite fierce. Life has been bought for us at a high price. It is a gift for both now and later. It will not be held back or snuffed out easily. And we must fight for and with it.
So here we go, again. Our family is fighting for life, this time for the life of my mother. But, it seems clear to me now, that even when our hopes are confirmed that she is in remission, there will always be life to fight for. And so, we are just going to continue to get used to finding our reprieve in Him instead of our circumstances.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Indy Alliance

Our church was meeting on Sunday evenings at a Salvation Army office building in Fountain Square until May. In May, we moved into an old Methodist church that had been abandoned. It was given to our church for free. It's a pretty cool story of people not wanting to go into debt for a building when they could meet for free, even if it was on Sunday nights... of a pastor asking an absurd question to someone who happened to have an absurd answer...and of a thankful congregation wanting to use the space to worship God and be a positive space in the community.
It's a pretty space full of stained glass and filled with beautiful people!

No air conditioning, but it's good to be hot in the summer, right?

That dinosaur is animatronic and is frankly, awesome.

A space to remind of us an epidemic called AIDS.
And here is Maggie showing off her standing skills.

The balcony is locked because we want the number of kids in the congregation to rise instead of fall (pun intended).