This morning the warm autumn sun has been streaming through my family room window, the pattern of panes dancing on the floor. In my back yard, the cat tails are transitioning from a sea of green to a marsh of browns, and when the breeze ripples through them, it is beautiful. Inside, my two older children play with dolls: putting them to bed, feeding them when they "cry," singing them songs. My smallest child will soon wake from an early morning nap, the result of waking earlier than usual this morning.

It is a peaceful morning. The kind I look for every day.

This week hasn't all been so picturesque. I was sick on Monday. The throwing up kind of sick. But my family is wonderful and helped me, even when I didn't know how to ask for help. (Fortunately, my husband is better at calling for reinforcement than I am.)

And yesterday, my melancholy thoughts took shape in the form of choleric behavior. I washed everything that has ever needed washing in my house. I ironed bedsheets, which is something I simply never find time for on most occasion. I vacuumed every floor, and then set about to violently scrub toilets. I wondered as I toiled if it is true that His hope means my toil is not in vain.

There is always fear in me. Fear of failing... especially of failing my children. I struggle to remember that He is their Source--not I. But this year, I have been encouraged to look to Him, as I watch her.

Truly, it is He that is the Author and Finisher; the Beginning and End.

Not me...

Not me.

And this, so much more than sparkling sunlight and bright-colored leaves, is peace.

Behold, I tell you a mystery; we will not all sleep, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet; for the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For this perishable must put on the imperishable, and this mortal must put on immortality. But when this perishable will have put on the imperishable, and this mortal will have put on immortality, then will come about the saying that is written, "Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?" The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law; but thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the world of the Lord, knowing that your toil is not in vain in the Lord.

1 Corinthians 15:51-58

One foot in front of the other.

That's how I would describe these past two weeks. It hasn't been fun, and I'm sure it hasn't been pretty. Without doubt, people around me are tired of hearing me respond to, "How are you?" with "I'm tired." And even more surely, my family is glad to receive a more amitious and inspired wife and mom back. You know, the thrilled-for-fall, make-the-house-pretty, try-new-recipes, light-lots-of-candles wife and mom.

She's been rather absent, you know. (Maybe you don't.)

The good thing is she's been making re-appearances. And--wouldn't you know?--these appearances are daily increasing in frequency and length. It might just be that we all are on the brink of bidding tired, grouchy, discouraged, and hopeless wife and mom good-bye.

I am grateful for hugs from my husband, a friend I can call on the phone when I'm having a bad day, the demands of my children that force me to continue with the basics even when I want to drift away, pumpkins from Mom, a new baby's birth, and Grace that revives my spirit.

I'm also grateful for Proverbs. (Sometimes I just need a kick in the butt when it comes to diligence and seeing the promises He gives to those who don't give up and give in fulfilled in my life.)

All in all, I'm glad that this "slump" is being cut short.

Just in time to enjoy my very favorite-est of seasons!

Walking Baby Hannah and Baby Ally


Mom experimenting with the flash


Ever smiling


and...

Presenting Bronwyn Eliese,
performing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star

We've got snotty faces and plenty of whining to spare around here. Guess it's going around.   So far, other than throwing up first thing yesterday morning, I've felt healthy. Tired, but healthy. (Why is it that when adults get sick they just want to sleep, but when kids get sick they just want to keep their parents awake all night???)

Which means I can't complain. Especially since this means we ought to have the yuckies out of our systems by the time our highly-anticipated out-of-town guests arrive at the end of next week!

Last night, I said, "My life has been on the fast-track." And I did not lie.

I'm barely 24 and I'm approaching my 5th wedding anniversary. I have three children, one of whom is old enough to be asking questions about what happens when people die and how he can make sure we all go to heaven. I own a home (well, I'm working towards owning it, as it still belongs more to the bank than to me).

There has been great joy along the way. My journey thus far has been a speedy one and wrought with much blessing and the obvious working of God. But I would be lying to say that I don't many times wish I was more "normal." In many ways, I relate better with 30-some-year-old moms than with my peers, and this is often tough for me.

I look at what other alternative life stories I might have lived. Perhaps I would have just finished or might still be finishing grad school. Or maybe I would be living overseas as a missionary. Another route may have been working a job somewhere, and having more money to give and less consumed by diapers and PB&J.

In those scenarios, people might not look at me funny or disdainfully or in shock.

But then I remind myself, in those scenarios, I wouldn't have been obedient.

When I graduated from highschool, my little sister wrote a song for me. For my bridal shower, she printed and framed it for me. I read it often and think about it even more. And one line comes to mind at least once a day.

Though the lives of many others
Are different than mine
I'll go the way You want me to
And I will keep pressing on

I'll go the way You want me to, Lord. I choose You as my portion and my lot. I take the fast-track, because it's what You are asking of me.

For some video, go here. (My kids are in it, too.)

Perhaps some others think the tongues with interpretation that was shared today during our worship service was for them. Well, I'm claiming it as mine. I can't begin to express how I needed the reassurance that was offered through it; or how desperately I needed to be confronted by the choice made clear through it: will I settle for letting my circumstances be my portion, or will I embrace Him as my portion?

This choice, my friends, is the difference between the two women described in the word shared. One has joy that endures as she travails; the other sees only the pain of the moment.

It made me stop in my tracks.

How often have I been the one focusing on the moment? (And I'm not just talking about when in labor here, as the analogy was just that--an analogy.) If I'm honest with you, I'll tell you that it wasn't just this week that I've been struggling to get beyond my circumstances and the enemy of my soul. Daily there are moments when I see only the situations around me, or the hurt, or the wrong by me or by another. Daily I fail to look beyond what I'm feeling and experiencing to the joy of knowing and walking with and in Him.

No more.

Today I choose Him. He is my portion and my lot.

And I find that the lines indeed fall in pleasant places when I am gazing upon Him.

R. Jameson Dunphey



9/15/2006, 10:13pm
8lbs, 8oz; 21"

My third nephew arrived last night; my first nephew related by blood. He doesn't look like me or mine and, in fact, my youngest boy looks a whole lot more like the new mother than this baby does, but he's certainly cute and we are all most definitely claiming him! The labor my sister experienced was in total the length of time it takes me to get from 8cm to 10cm. I am thrilled for her, and reminded that He indeed hears our prayers, of which I have offered many towards a quick and uncomplicated delivery of this first Dunphey baby.

(I'm not sure why these prayers don't work the same way for me, but I'll save discussions on God's sovereignty for another day. )

Last night I returned home and just sat for a while in my children's bedroom watching Gabriel and Bronwyn and Jackson sleep, stepping-stone sized bodies curled up in beds, lined up in a row. There's nothing like the arrival of new life to remind me how miraculous and precious each life is. I might have had a rougher afternoon with these three lives that I am called to steward than most any I've had before, but the day ended with my heart filled afresh: I felt--again--a deep gratitude that He would care to let me play a part in who they are becoming.

This thing called motherhood is awe-inspiring, fear-filling, challenge-laden, and grace-imperative. Only God could have imagined and created such a divine plan.

It's amazing how early 6:30am isn't when I've slept well throughout the night. I'd kind of forgotten what normal sleep is; 8 months--or, more realistically, 3.5 years--of interrupted sleep will do that to you.

Yes, Night #2 of Jackson Project was without contest the second best night's sleep since Jackson's birth. He went from 8pm-3:45am without waking once, and then slept very peacefully the rest of the night with me. Of course, his sound sleeping means that he's bright-eyed and ready to play by 6:30am (did you really think I was waking up that early voluntarily?!), but I can deal with that.

And, while the past two days have been rather gloomy weather-wise, they have been brightened by peaceful nights, a visit from her and her two delightful children, an evening shared with them, and a hair style by her. Nice.

The Jackson Update:

(Those of you who aren't interested in the feeding and sleeping patterns of an 8-month-old might prefer checking out right about now. )

All day long and throughout the evening I nursed Jack every time I saw even the most remote of opportunities, sometimes even just an hour later than the previous feeding. Her comment made me realize that--yes, indeed--he had cut back to 4-5 nursings throughout the day and since I've figured out from various times pumping of late that he usually eats 3-4 ounces per nursing, well, that's just not a whole lot of calorie-intake.

When I laid Jack down for the night, I put a pair of long-underwear style pajamas underneath a pair of footed fleece pajamas, as well as the standard onesie and socks he wears 24/7. The tips on keeping baby warm made me realize that--yes, indeed--his little hands have been rather cold each time I've gotten him up throughout this past week.

I went to bed at 11pm, fully expecting to hear his cry at any moment.

I fell asleep.

I woke up at 5:45am to Daniel plopping a crying baby into the bed so I could nurse him. Unbelievable!

The best part is that he actually laid next to me and nursed nicely. *sigh* I've never been opposed to co-sleeping and, in fact, really like it as long as I get part of the night to myself and as long as I'm not 8+ months pregnant with the next baby; I love waking up with chubby hands on my neck, or to an infectious grin. For whatever reason, Jackson has been impossible to sleep next to of late. He thrashes and squirms and flails fists, etc. Not pleasant. (Thus me getting up every 30 minutes to 2 hours to nurse him in the rocker.)

But last night and this morning were perfect! In fact, he's never slept so well to date.

You'd think with Jackson being my third baby that I'd have figured some of this out by now, but Gabriel was entirely the kind of baby who slept extremely well as long as he was with me--so I kept him with me--and Bronwyn was entirely the kind of baby who learns to sleep through the night by 4 months and never once looks back. (Maybe she spoiled me a bit for this time around?!) Jack was definitely not doing either of those things.

At any rate, I feel better this morning than I've felt in... well... this is the longest I've slept since Jackson was born. I'd forgotten how manageable morning can be when I've slept well the night before!

Here's to sleeping well, and here's to Jack sleeping well again!

And thanks for the pointers!

For the past week Jackson has been waking up roughly 6-8 times a night. The longest stretch he's going is 2 hours; the shortest is 5 minutes. Prior to this, he was waking each night around 2am and then 4:30am to eat. He always went right back to bed/sleep.

At the beginning of these increased wakings and this awful sleeping, I was trying to let him cry through the seemingly unnecessary feedings, but for the first couple nights he would literally cry on and off (the "offs" were a minute long, maximum) for 2 hours until I finally gave in and retrieved him. For several nights I tried simply soothing him back to sleep, but I found that even though he'll fall asleep, he wakes up about 5-15 minutes later unless I nurse him.

My first thought was perhaps that he is teething again, but a week later I've yet to find even a single swollen gum, let alone the beginnings of a tooth coming in.

Then I thought that it's interesting how this poor sleeping coincides perfectly with his newfound mobility. Perhaps his increased need for nursing is because he's hungry due to burning lots more calories these days? I've begun nursing as often as he seems like he wants it to increase my supply, but it hasn't seemed to make much of a difference in his contentment. Three nights later, I'm just exhausted--and so is he!

I don't want to begin feeding him any foods for at least another month, and I'm confident that my body can meet his needs, if this is indeed the problem. That said, I'm not confident that I'm doing everything I can to make sure my body meets the demand as quickly as possible!

And, of course, the issue could be something altogether different that I've not yet thought of.

So I guess this question is posed to all mothers:

What might this be?--and what do I do?!?!

Days go by.

Sundays have been packed since the return of the semester. Either worship practice at 8:30am or Sunday School at 9:15am marks the official take-off time, though for me it begins much earlier with ready-ing children for worship. These past two weeks have found us making a wearied and satisfied return through the red door of our yellow house after 5pm, just in time for Daniel to make a quick exit for Campus Ministry LIFE Group at 6pm.

Yesterday didn't really seem to exist for me, not while I was living it nor in thinking back on it. I was tired. Being tired often means for me a loss of perspective. And a loss of perspective results in an aimless (if any) agenda. This is never a good thing.

Today found me running errands. Not my usual kind of grocery-hunting errands. Instead, I was at Lowe's and Wal-Mart with Daniel (Tuesdays are his day-off, as opposed to Saturday). We found some good deals on some things for the house, including tulip bulbs for less than 1/2 the price I'd found anywhere online. We also found that flooring is very expensive and that we will want to think long and hard before deciding that the floor in the bathroom is too discolored from water condensation dripping off of rusty toilet pipes to tolerate.

(The two big potted mums I came home with weren't really a good deal but they sure were pretty and, since we've gone all summer without anything flowering in our yard, I thought blooms on our front porch might be a worthy splurge... maybe even worth the $13 they cost!)

Sometimes I feel full of vision; full of life and hope and dreams and thoughts and lessons and hoped-for lessons. Other times, I feel empty. Just empty.

Without a doubt, it's the empty moments that test wherein my faith truly lies: me or Him. I pray I am found in Christ.

As days go by.

Thinking about...

...how wonderful a sunny 80* felt yesterday, and how cold a damp 65* will feel today. I didn't realize such a dramatic drop in temperatures was possible.

Guess it is.

...the plans for gardening I made in the spring, put on hold because I need to wait for the fence to be built before doing much. I am itching to make this house look more lived-in--more loved--so I have decided to look into ordering a whole bunch of tulip bulbs to plant along the front of our house in anticipation of next spring. The only problem? I've no clue where to begin looking.

Help, anyone?

...how often my generation champions verses about our Christian liberties (i.e. 1 Corinthians 10:23); how much we value the truth that we need to act according to our faith; but how little we talk about Matthew 18:6, But whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to sin, it would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck, and he were drowned in the depth of the sea.

Why is that?

...how good it was to be at the prayer meeting on Wednesday night, and how much I loved spending some time with the students last night. I wonder if I will ever get over the joy of meeting with other believers?

I hope not.

A couple pictures from last night:

What do I do with this again, Dad?


The Jack-smile we've all been captured by.

And from today: my two boys.

In news, Jack is officially crawling after having flirted with the idea of doing so for a solid week or two. I get the biggest kick out of the the way babies' bums sway back and forth with crawling, but it sure is sad to see my own baby distancing himself from infancy with each new achievement. And, as I was telling my sister and brother-in-law the other day, the more active he gets, the weirder the looks I get are when I say I "just had a baby." (So much for that excuse for... well... everything!)

After dressing Bronwyn in her new birthday clothes from Grandma and
Pap-Pap, we all (you know, the kids and I) thought it would be nice to
take pictures of her for them to see. Well, as soon as I focused the
camera on her by herself, she started into her "I'm shy and can't bear
this attention" act, which is just that: an act. A couple snapshots
later, I was getting her to laugh and be her silly self. Eventually we
got a decent picture.

But I've decided that the pouty and silly pictures ought to be included; I'm thinking that Grandma and Pap-Pap will like them all.

 

      

On the Horizon:

• A new "Sinclair" baby. I am shamelessly excited to meet one that I haven't personally delivered! Could be tomorrow, could be 3+ weeks from now... but soon, either way.
  
• My 25th year alive. I'll be 24 years old, in case you can't figure that out.
• Raking leaves and burning them. I have missed that distinct and wonderful autumn smell that can only be enjoyed when living in rural USA.
• A visit from two of my dearest friends at the end of the month! This will be my first chance to sit and really talk with them since I moved from Pittsburgh last October.
• Our yard getting fenced in. The fruits of this won't truly be experienced until next spring, but it's still exciting to me.
• Getting to know the many new faces of students that joined us on Sunday. Yay!
• Cherry pie tomorrow morning for breakfast, baked by my mom for me and left-over from this evening's celebration. The family singing Happy Birthday to me in person (not over the telephone) hasn't happened since I turned 19 until tonight; kinda made me feel like a little girl and super-special all over again.
• New mercies. I cannot even describe how much peace this affords my heart.
  

Today didn't end up being a "last day of summer" type of day. The rain and cold made it, instead, a celebration of the new season.

I didn't mind.

Any excuse to take a nap with a blanket, bust open the hot cocoa, put Bronwyn in a thick pair of tights, and don hats on the boys is pretty okay with me.

Gonna eat out tonight!

At the water:

Looking at the water with Aunt Beanz:

Good ol' Dad:

You'd pinch, too!

 

Cookies!


Kisses for Aunt Beanz:


Educating Aunt Beanz on custard sold at The Fields:

 

The cutest baby:

 

The news in a young mother's world:

• 3 batches of brownies is both a lot and a little. It fills my big tupperware bowl completely as I mix it, and yet it will barely satisfy the grumblings of 40-50 students' tummies tomorrow afternoon.
• Jackson gets up on all fours and rocks back and forth continually, though still prefering his military-inching over trying anything new. I don't think he will be 10 months old before crawling.
• Bronwyn is increasingly afraid of loud noises. Now we avoid the garbage disposal, "Mr. Bile" (aka "Flem") in Monsters, Inc., and any cell phone interference with the baby monitor, along with the following previously banned/avoided noises: my hairdryer, the vacuum cleaner, the gorilla in Baby's Day Out, Gabriel yelling, and listening to loud music in the vehicle.
• Ben & Jerry's ice cream has been on sale this whole week at P&C. I will be sad this coming week.
• I am only one chapter into Shepherding A Child's Heart and am thoroughly convinced it will live up to my expectations, which are quite high after having it recommended as the "must-read" by many parents who have raised children who serve the Lord.
• Gabriel has been acting like more of a boy this past week than ever before. I must confess that having grown up in an estrogen-driven house did not prepare me for the zany, loud, constant-movement behavior of late. (Crying and lots of talking I am familiar with.) This presents a challenge for me: I have a difficult time determining when I need to let him be energetic and when I need to reign in his vigor and zeal because it is disrupting and destroying everyone and everything in its path.
• We went for a couple days without Bronwyn's "pacifier-yiesh," but it's back. What can I say? Maybe I've learned that bad habits die hard and this one isn't worth fighting right now.
• The other night I almost told Daniel I would pop the dishes into the dishwasher and then clean up the kids, only to remember just in time that I am the dishwasher. Have I mentioned that I'm looking forward to re-modeling our kitchen? (Don't worry, I'm anticipating but not holding my breath.)
• Daniel has been gone a lot with the semester's initiation. It's been 11 days since he took a day off and our date-night last night was Daniel doing worship at an IVCF event and me staying home with the kids. (We're now 0-2.) I'm neither feeling steam-rolled or fried, but I find that I write a lot more when I've gone without much adult interaction.
• I am feeling very thankful today. For life, for salvation, for my home, for autumn, for pretty bedsheets, for a red-haired baby, for big windows, for Vonage, for a daughter, for an old train set, for a big table on loan, for living near sisters, for a potty-trained son... I am richly and wondrously blessed.
  

Is it possible to overdose on pineapple?

'Cause Bronwyn and I just ate an entire pineapple with our dinner.

(Daniel's not here, Gabriel hates pineapple, and Jack "doesn't eat", so it was up to us girls... and of course we came through!)

I've been thinking a lot about stewardship [of finances] and giving [of money and gifts]. In fact, this has been an of-visited train of thought, inspired in large part by the generous people around me and continued wholly by the Holy Spirit who seeks to call me ever higher and stretch my faith further.

A couple weeks ago I read the following here: Being generous is not at odds with thriftiness. In fact, we should scrimp and save so that we have enough to be generous. And I haven't been able to get it out of my thoughts.

You see, I'm a saver. And, yes, I'm a bit of a scrimper. Every month I try to see how little I can spend on food while still maintaining a somewhat healthy diet. (This, of course, is all relative to your idea of "healthy;" my kids might not know what McDonald's is but I sure look like a bottom-dweller compared to some of my more organic friends.) I don't have the coffee table I'd like, I buy the cheapest diapers I can, I opt for dried beans over meat most nights of the week, etc. While in New York city I saw this and thought it wonderful, so Daniel said he was going to buy it for Bronwyn for me. I almost choked. After all, it is still full price and, as the good shopper that I am, I make it a habit to never buy anything full price. (He bought it anyway.)

There are some good roots to my thriftiness: I want to be a witness of His provision, which I assume is helped by looking to the world as though I'm provided for; I believe the Bible when it says that debt puts me in a less-than-desirable spot on the material-chain; I know that living within my means is a good indicator of my contentment; and I think it is wisdom to save for the future instead of using all my means on instant gratification. That said, I've never really thought of saving for giving.

I'm not sure why.

After all, I believe in giving. We have always tithed and supported our local church. We have an account in our monthly budget labeled "Gifts." As long as I don't lose the support letter missionaries can count on us to send them something--even if it's not a whole lot of something. I love buying gifts for family and friends, especially if it's unexpected by the recipient or for a baby. We give money to guest ministry that comes to minister. Etc.

But I haven't been a saver and scrimper firstly to give (beyond basic tithes and offerings). Rather, saving has been a means of both insuring for the future and keeping life (and my wants) simpler and on the back-burner. And what a much better--a much more inspiring and motivating!--reason giving is for saving!

Let me just say that I think it's wise to plan ahead, and I think God does, too. In fact, He was pretty pleased with Joseph when Joseph did just that for Egypt. I also think it's foolish to give more than you actually have, which is why my pattern of giving will still have to be measured so that I don't run out of resources before I get through the calendar year.

I'm talking heart motivations here. You know: why I do what I do. I don't want to serve money because I don't know how to control its out-flow, nor do I want to serve it because I am fearful and afraid of the future, or simply monitoring how much I will be self-serving so I don't overspend, or misunderstanding its ultimate purpose in my life--which is to bless others and build His Kingdom/people.

Last night I wrote up the following and posted it on my kitchen cupboard. I pray it will become the daily reminder for why I am with-holding from and denying the impulses of my material (and sometimes stomach) desires; it sure is a lot more exciting when I look at it this way!

Rules to Save & Spend By

1. We save so we can share.
2. We consider purchases carefully so we can give without hesitation.
3. We spend modestly so we can scatter liberally.

1. We do not save to gain a false sense of security.
2. We will not be stingy toward others in our careful consideration.
3. Our satisfaction is not found in with-holding from ourselves but in giving to the Lord.

Don't hoard treasure down here where it gets eaten by moths and corroded by rust or - worse! - stolen by burglars. Stockpile treasure in heaven, where it's safe from moth and rust and burglars. It's obvious, isn't it? The place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being. Your eyes are windows into your body. If you open your eyes wide in wonder and belief, your body fills up with light. If you live squinty-eyed in greed and distrust, your body is a dank cellar. If you pull the blinds on your windows, what a dark life you will have! You can't worship two gods at once. Loving one god, you'll end up hating the other. Adoration of one feeds contempt for the other. You can't worship God and Money both. -Matthew 6:19-24 (The Message)