Oliver's first

Today we celebrated one year of Oliver Richard.

 taken at breakfast-- his first breakfast as a ONE YEAR OLD

Our little man, pleasant and ready to smile and quick to laugh, has made these past months rather idyllic, I must say. He's slept like a dream from day one, nursed and grown like a champ, gone with the flow continually, endured the doting and hauling around and antics of six older siblings, and in so doing captured our hearts entirely.

Oliver may be the seventh baby to grace our lives and family, but it's truer than ever that the miracle of life never gets old: he has been cherished as effortlessly and thoroughly as if he was the first. Indeed, he has perhaps been celebrated all the more because he has an audience of not one or two or three but eight cheering him on in each new endeavor and milestone!

We marked his first birthday with a simple dinner and a few small gifts here at home. Nana and Papa and Uncle Merrick joined us around the dining room table. We lit candles and sang happy birthday and he, of course, didn't have a clue as to what it was all about, but one day he'll look back at pictures and I hope they help him know a little of how deeply loved he is.

I am so thankful for Oliver. Thankful for the fresh grace and the promise of obedience rewarded that he has represented to me. Thankful for the image bearer of God that he is. Thankful for the destiny wrapped up inside him, and for the privilege of stewarding him for this season.

He took in the singing and joined us at the end with delighted clapping!

Cookies, Oliver, and Peace

I am between batches of Christmas cookies: the rum logs have been baked, cooled, and decorated; the chocolate dipped butter cookies have been baked and are cooling (awaiting their chocolate dip); and the pecan tassie dough is chilling in the fridge. It won't be long before the kitchen table-- all 92" of it-- is covered in cookies.

The little boys are presently overlapping naps (this is a precious and usually non-existent occurrence) so while the older kids begin a movie, I cleaned up the kitchen, heated myself some leftovers, and sat down to catch my breath.

Each day this week is plotted out: which foods I need to prepare when, what dishes will be used, when the gifts will get prepared and the final decor arranged. I don't foresee much lingering by the Christmas tree or snuggling up under a blanket for a holiday movie with the kids in my immediate future!

The truth is, I love this work-- this getting ready for special occasions and to celebrate people who mean so much to Daniel and me work!

And somewhere in here, we will sneak in a birthday dinner for the littlest boy in this home. Our delightful, beautiful Oliver Richard. Just this morning I was watching him stand and clap and smile-- such a bright smile that reaches right into my heart!-- and I couldn't help but think that he really is one of the prettiest babies I've ever seen. Peaches and cream skin, ready smile, dimpled hands and arms and legs, twinkly eyes.

A year ago was a snowy Sunday. Many regular attenders didn't even make it out of their driveways to church. The following Sunday we would have to stay at home because of a state of emergency in our state due to winter storms. And right in-between that streak of horrendous weather, we had clear skies and crisp air to accompany a trip to Watertown and back where our little baby was brought into the world.

I was definitely anxious about being induced, but God had a plan.

Oliver Richard means "peace, dominant ruler." The verse on our hearts as we anticipated the birth of our baby was Isaiah 9:6, Of the increase of His government and peace There will be no end. This is a verse, of course, that is on many of our hearts this time of year. We didn't see it as coincidence that we would be drawn to it for our only December baby!

But the idea of the peace of God is a concept I find myself constantly needing to be renewed in over the years, and especially one that I had been chewing on since the spring before when my dad preached a message about Gideon.

Peace isn't a feeling. It isn't an emotion. It isn't a state of everything being perfect.

Peace is Jesus bringing His reign and order to the chaos that is my broken life and this broken world.

And of the increase of that, there will be no end.

Oliver is a prophetic declaration to me, and prayerfully to his generation: there is chaos and darkness, but in the midst of that, God had a plan. He sent His Son to redeem. His reign has been established-- it is finished!-- and the peace that accompanies His rule only increases day by day by day.

I hope that tomorrow, between more Christmas party prep and wrapping a few small things for a simple birthday dinner, I will be able to write more about Oliver. But today, these were the thoughts on my heart as I celebrate my baby's first birthday, as I anticipate Christmas Day, and as I yearn for the day Jesus returns.

December

I doubt that I'm alone in that December is one of my favorite months of the year.

It's not because I like the temperature. (I don't.)
It's not because I like how little daylight we get. (I don't.)
It's not because I like snow. (I do for about a day.)
It's not because I like overindulging in Christmas cookies. (Okay, I do in the moment, but it's always quickly regrettable.)

I love December because a hush seems to fall over me this time of year; a purposeful pause; a deep soul inhaling and exhaling. I always mean to live life in a peace-centered way, but the truth is that some seasons (quite literally) feel more pressured than others.

There's something about December that begs for lingering around a simple dinner table just a few minutes longer.

Something that stops me short in my normal routine and cries out for little opportunities to be woven throughout the day in order to better cherish the people around me.

I wrap myself in a blanket first thing in the morning and open my Bible and here by the tree I find myself considering afresh the kind of God I serve: generous, faithful, pursuing, redemptive. And maybe it's the mood-lighting but really I think it's just that I am rehearsing the Gospel again that makes my eyes fill with tears and my heart fill with hope once again.

I fill the house with candles and freshly baked smells, and there are secret whispers and hesitantly expressed wishes and holiday music. Together, we share these things.

I find myself reaching out more to all those I love this time of year, His expression of reaching out compelling me to a love offering of the same kind. The coffee pot is ready, the cookie tins are filled, the door is open.

Children, their eyes bright, their excitement at times too exuberant (!), their hearts hopeful, their embraces ready.

I pass on the traditions and hope that the traditions in and of themselves never become a burdensome requirement, but simply that they will be memories cherished, truths illustrated, a celebration made big.

Special stacks of Christmas books and stockings hung in a row and-- oh my!-- red beaded garland here and orange and clove garland there and mistletoe garland yet there. Rehearsing music and planning parties. Quiet nights with the agenda cleared.

This is what December means to me:

A Baby, born of a virgin, destined for a Cross. His pain inevitable, His victory certain. God incarnate, with us, with me, here and now and forever and always.

Me, remembering what it's all about, falling in love with my Savior again, growing surer in Who He is and less concerned with who I am, wanting everything about me and my existence-- especially in this season-- to echo the joyous cry:

Glory to God in the highest!

And on earth peace, goodwill toward men.

my blonde-haired boy

Fierce. Passionate. Gifted.

If you ask me what are the words that describe Elliot Hale, these are the first that come to mind.

He loves what he loves.

He hates what he hates.

He wants what he wants.

Don't bother trying to coax him into changing his mind; pretty much the only way for his mind to be changed is through a clashing of wills. Sometimes I almost think there's something in the way he's wired that looks for the fight.

My little prophet Elijah, my tiny protective shepherd-boy David, ready to take on the enemy of his hour.

Even before he was talking much, he would notice patterns and eagerly point them out to me: logos, designs, hair styles, colors and shapes and sizes on various objects and signs.

He knows every sound that every letter makes, not because I've taught him, but because he has gleaned much from my work with Aubrey. His little mind gathering, absorbing, filing away.

And, of course, he's been comfortable with a ball in his hand longer than he's been walking.

These days, though, there are new words that come to mind equally fast when I think of Elliot.

Affectionate. Excited. Celebratory. Growing.

I see his little heart being shaped and it is breathtaking. Let me be honest and say that I wish I'd had faith for this more before now, but the truth is that at times I've simply hung onto the truths of the Word of God in relation to training because it was just so hard. But now? Now when he sets his jaw and very purposefully puts his hand in mine to cross the street, it is almost more precious to me because I know the deep inward yielding it represents.

I tell him often, "Elliot, I want you to obey me because I want you to obey God," and these days he says it with me, so familiar are the words.

He loves to celebrate people, which is a new thing erupting from his little heart. His proudest moment perhaps ever was when he "helped" Daniel make my birthday cake. "Mama, I made birthday cake for you!"

When one of the other kids makes a good play in a game or creates a nice piece of artwork or is brave while enduring something unpleasant, he is very quick to take note and shower said person with encouragement.

Often when he is struggling with disappointment or the agony of submitting to my leadership or just having a rough day, the surest way to minister to him is to pull him onto my lap, hold him close, and sing his favorite hymn, Great Is Thy Faithfulness. He melts in those moments, his little arms pulling my head down close to his.

We share some tight heart strings, my Elliot Hale and I. He has challenged me and I have challenged him. He has forgiven and loved me, and I have forgiven and loved him. Such a powerful person in an altogether not-so-big package.

There is much more to be accomplished in him and me as we walk this journey, mother and son, together, but lately I have been so reminded in a multitude of little things that God is at work in us both and He will be faithful.

And she cleared it!

When Aubrey was in the NICU as a newborn, her team of cardiologists began calling her "The Unsinkable Aubrey Paladin" because she seemed to defy medical odds and projections at every turn. In the most recent letter we received from them (in which they asked to do the heart catheterization because of their concerns about increasing pressure in her heart) they wrote, "Aubrey continues to stump the stars."

We know beyond a shadow of a doubt Who is upholding this precious girl. The One who fashioned her, deposited His likeness in her, and knew long before we did that there was anything wrong with her has sustained her and caused her to thrive even when she shouldn't.

Well, Aubrey faced another hurdle-- and she has cleared another hurdle!

Just... tears and relief and incredible, mind-blowing, breath-evaporating awe that she continues to have this testimony. It's like every single time they make a projection or have a concern about Aubrey's declining health, God just keeps strengthening and renewing her.

The specific concern-- dangerously increasing pressure in her heart-- has been totally alleviated by the heart catheterization done this morning. In the words of her doctor to Daniel just in the last hour, spoken with a chuckle, "We are free to continue with our game plan, which is... to Sit Tight!"

My little trooper did a great job at enduring the procedure. Her doctors did a terrific job and the nurses are currently spoiling her like crazy.

Most of all, God continues to show Himself strong on Aubrey's behalf. May He be glorified more and more and more in her life!

Another hurdle

Tomorrow morning, Aubrey will face a small hurdle in this race she's running. Her cardiologists have asked to do a heart catheterization in order to investigate what has looked, in recent echocardiograms, like increasing pressure in her pulmonary artery. It is a very minor procedure in the grand scheme of things, but the outcome could bear significantly on how soon she would need major heart surgery.

We prayed for her yesterday in church and I humbly ask that if she comes to mind, you pray with me for her tomorrow, as well.

She has been counting down the days, but not in fear. On the contrary, she is making a special, "just her" trip with Daddy and has been beyond excited as she looks forward to it! In turn, I am beyond blessed by this amazing man who has helped carry her (and me) through each day of her life.

I just love her scrunched-up-with-happiness nose in this picture as her daddy arrived home and then whisked her off on this adventure a bit ago!

I'll do my best to update on the results whenever we get them.

photo dump (and some accompanying verses)

So many beautiful, breathtaking moments this fall-- wedged into the busyness of life as a homeschooling family of nine. Moments that kept bringing my heart back to its center, moments gifted by a Heavenly Father who is daily, line upon line, precept upon precept, teaching me to not get overwhelmed or unduly anxious or inappropriately frustrated, moments that help me remember Who this is all about.

It's not about me.

It's not about my kids.

It's not about my generation or their generation.

It's about Him.

We are part of His story, and the sooner and better we learn that, the more joy we experience in each and every bit of our existence.

What's funny is that these moments are usually very much tied to this life I've been given, these children I'm stewarding, this mission we're about-- and yet when He is fixing my vision, I see right through the temporal, to the One who is eternal and forever praiseworthy; glimpses of the permanent right in the midst of that which is passing away.

For only a penny you can buy two sparrows, yet not one sparrow falls to the ground without your Father's consent. As for you, even the hairs of your head have all been counted. So do not be afraid; you are worth much more than many sparrows!

 My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never die. No one can snatch them away from me. What my Father has given me is greater than everything, and no one can snatch them away from the Father's care.

Don’t you see that children are God’s best gift? the fruit of the womb his generous legacy?
Like a warrior’s fistful of arrows are the children of a vigorous youth.
Oh, how blessed are you parents, with your quivers full of children!
Your enemies don’t stand a chance against you; you’ll sweep them right off your doorstep.

 The Lord upholds all who fall, And raises up all who are bowed down.

The eyes of all look expectantly to You, And You give them their food in due season.

You open Your hand And satisfy the desire of every living thing.

 

They find joy in obeying the Law of the Lord, and they study it day and night.

They are like trees that grow beside a stream,

that bear fruit at the right time, and whose leaves do not dry up.

(emphasis mine)

Behold, the Lord God shall come with a strong hand, And His arm shall rule for Him;

Behold, His reward is with Him, And His work before Him.

He will feed His flock like a shepherd; He will gather the lambs with His arm,

And carry them in His bosom, And gently lead those who are with young.

 For all the promises of God in Him are Yes, and in Him Amen, to the glory of God through us.

 For everyone who asks will receive, and anyone who seeks will find, and the door will be opened to those who knock. Would any of you who are fathers give your son a stone when he asks for bread? Or would you give him a snake when he asks for a fish? As bad as you are, you know how to give good things to your children. How much more, then, will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him!

 The Lord is not slow to do what he has promised, as some think. Instead, he is patient with you, because he does not want anyone to be destroyed, but wants all to turn away from their sins.

 Jesus said, “Let the children come to me and do not stop them, because the Kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."

 The wise woman builds her house,

But the foolish pulls it down with her hands.

Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day.

"Do not be worried and upset,” Jesus told them. “Believe in God and believe also in me. There are many rooms in my Father's house, and I am going to prepare a place for you. I would not tell you this if it were not so. And after I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to myself, so that you will be where I am."