Forty Three

Most years, I spend my birthday doing laundry and school and dishes and cooking and just ordinary living.  It's just a day, after all.  But this year, I decided to ditch it all and do something,  ANYTHING,  AWAY from ordinary living.  I wanted to celebrate being alive.  

(Warning: it gets deep from here... feel free to skip to the pictures)

When Corynn got married and I had to say goodbye to life as I had known it for 20 years, with all my children around me, I thought that might be the hardest year of my life. Before that, Mom being in the hospital was a pretty hard stinking time- but a different kind of hard.  The kind of hard that I endured knowing who I was, who God was and who my people were.  Saying 'goodbye' to my people, to Corynn, as she had always been and the life we had always had was hard in a tectonic plates shifting kind-of way.

But tectonic plates shifting can still result in a fruitful and beautiful (but different) reality. 

This past year, though, has been more a sense of being buried alive.  The kind where you truly consider whether scratching your way to the surface is even worth it.  Considering if staying buried is the better option.  Giving up on life, entirely.  My world was rocked, and not in a good way.  I despaired.  I wanted to die.  I wished for it.  I wondered if the world would be better off without me, as all my living, all my efforts, my very breath seemed in vain.  If I could not shield and protect my children, why was I even here?  If this home could not be shielded from the world and sin and misery, what was even the point? I was, and am, a terrible FAILURE.  And that was a very hard reality to live with because I truly have tried so hard.   In a real way, not living seemed pretty enticing- less painful.  If God's plan for my family was so painful, how could I trust that it was for our good and His glory?  I wondered if God could even be trusted- I felt that He and His plan had betrayed me.

I was left face to face with the stark reality that though you can believe you are doing 'everything right'- you can be shielding and protecting and preventing and teaching and living- we can homeschool and we can worship regularly and read the bible and we can refuse video games and cellphones and TV every night and take care with relationships... but in so doing, my eyes were always fixed on ME.  What I was doing.  What I was protecting.  What I was preserving.  The fact is, we all fail miserably at doing everything right.  

We are sinners.  All have sinned and FALL SHORT OF THE GLORY OF GOD.  (Romans 3:23)  

I have always known I am a sinner.  I am very aware of that.  But somewhere along the way, I had forgotten that the God of the universe didn't need me to do everything right.  He didn't need me to sustain or preserve or protect.  I had forgotten that I wasn't in control and it wasn't all up to me.  In fact, I am utterly powerless.

And that is where the glory comes in.  His Glory shines when I recognize that HE is God and not me.  That HE is ruler of the world, NOT ME.  That HE is in control, not me.  

And that is where the good comes in too.  It is GOOD for me to not lie to myself that I am doing everything right.  It is good to know that I (and all who I hold dear) are wholly dependent on the mercies of God and the grace that HE bestows.  Not ME.  I was proud... and we are called to be humble.  I was lying to myself... and we are called to be truthful.  I thought I was strong, I thought I was wise, I thought I was in control... I thought wrong.  All is vanity.

This past year and all the pain and all the screaming at God and questioning and crying was worth it to have my eyes opened to this.   Have I overcome?  Nope.  But I have been given more days to trust.  To do right.  To be comforted.  To be faithful.  To tell the truth.  To see God bringing about glory through suffering. To declare and know God to be omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent.

And so you can see how I needed to celebrate this year.  I needed it desperately.  With the Lord's faithful support, I overcame my desire to die and I was given a greater desire to die to self.

On the morning of my birthday, I told the people at home that I was going to go on a special adventure.  No school, no laundry, no ordinary.  They could come if they wanted.  (They wanted.)  Corynn happened to call that morning to wish me a happy birthday and SHE wanted too.  ;-)

We packed a picnic lunch and headed to Buttermilk Falls for a hike.  To celebrate "just another day", just another year, that the Lord has given me, at the tail end of a year where I wished for none.

Thank you, Lord.

Corynn is about 16 weeks pregnant here (?) and looks like she *might* have just eaten a big breakfast. But how fun to see the teeny little Pipsqueak belly start to pop!  

Oof.  I've been discovered.

Ineke shows me just how she feels about THAT.

Me, at 43.

"Look Mama!  We are gonna fall off the wall!  We can't hold on any longer!  Ahhhhhhh"

If they think they can terrify me with faces like these... they need to go back to acting school.

It was a sweet, sweet time.  Enjoying waterfalls and roots.  Ferns and dappled sunshine.  Breeze.    Barefeet.  Legs walking up a million steps.  Rest breaks because I am now an old person with bad feet and knees.  Laughter.  Chatter.  Fresh air.  Surrounded by my people.  And glory.  And goodness.  

And me, taking it all in.  SEEING it.  Taking time to notice a world, a life, full of gifts.  (Which I don't do often enough.)

After exhausting ourselves with a hike, Adele' and Corynn drove home with the Littles and I met up with Matt for a dinner date at a new (and delicious!) place.

And I got home to find a most delicious secret birthday wish come true- a cheesecake just for me made by Corynn! 

I ate it in the flower circle as the sun was setting, dining with a hummingbird greedily slurping nectar from the flowers around me.

It couldn't have been a better day.  

I don't know if future birthdays will include dinner dates with Matt or delicious cheesecakes, but I know that from now on, they will ALWAYS include special adventures of NOTICING the Lord's goodness.  

And the celebration of another year to do it.

Because Chesterton was right, it is a good thing to be alive.

Mother's Day

An illicit and scandalous affair with a neighboring bulldog resulted in Sadie becoming a very BUSY Mother.  A DOZEN born, ten survived.

The first week they were born, I wondered how in the world we were going to find homes for them- they were SO UGLY.  (I am not kidding.)

But boy did time work its' magic.  Turns out the coon hound/border collie/lab/bulldog mix makes a VERY precious mutt.  People have been calling/texting/visiting like crazy this past week and jockeying all the interest and visits has been, well, interesting.  Most of them are gone at this point and as callous as I sounded when they were first born, I must admit that it has been hard to get rid of them, they are all sooo sweet.  

I mean, just look at them...

This one fell asleep sitting up.

In fact, it's SOOO hard, we may be keeping one! 

Any guesses which pup it is?  

Happy Mother's Day.... to Sadie.  ;-)

(Bet you didn't think a Mother's Day post would veer in this direction...)

I'm No Snitch

 

For a good long while, mum's was the word.  It nearly drove me mad, but I'm a good secret keeper.

The word is now officially OUT so I can joyously shout from the rooftops that the Lord blessed Corynn and Kemuel with a little Pipsqueak!!!  Due at the end of October, we can't wait to meet this little one.  (Oh, boy, is that an understatement!  What a gift!  What an answer to prayers!) 

 My girl is a Mama.

I am gonna be a Grandma.

Or a Granny.

Or, would it be weird, to be an Oma, if only by heritage and not by location?  Do tell.

When we were deciding Matt should be called, it was suggested (by HIM, by the way) that he be called GRUMPS instead of Gramps.

AH HAHAHA.  I happen to absolutely love it.  While it's hilarious, I am not sure it will (or should) stick. 

Whatever he winds up being called, he will always be a GRUMPS in my book. 😁

Eastering in April

 Hi.  My name is Rebecca Newman and I am a sequence addict.

                         (Hi Rebecca.)

 * * *

I don't know why I feel the need to be 'caught up' on old photos before blogging new ones but the struggle is real.  I told myself that I would not, could not, will not blog 'current things' until I got 'up to date' on old photos- and I gave myself the month of January to do it. 

And then February.

And then March.

And here it is, the end of April, and I am still not caught up.

And frankly, I'm tired of not blogging because of it.

So, it bothers me that I am going to jump back and forth from old things to current things, but I think it will bother me less than not blogging at all.

And soooo... here we are Eastering away.