My 3-Year-Old

Oh wow do I love this boy.  My little Toby turns 3 this weekend.  And when I think of him, I think of:
-red rubber boots
-hopping, jumping, spinning, running
-catchin frogs
-singing songs- always
-noticing the little things like lovely flowers, rainbows, and animals
-cuddles on the couch with a book
-endless hours of pushing cars, trains and motorbikes
-bombing down hills on his strider bike
-snacks - my raisin and hummus fiend
-whispered comments
-animated expressions
-hilarious comic relief
-emphatic "NO!"
-stuff-collector (we always find piles of random stuff in his bed- including windshield scrapers, rocks, turkey basters, trains, stuffed animals, my ear plugs, books, random rubber found on roadways, bouncy balls and any interesting thing he finds)
-quirky
-exploring
-early mornings, this kid gets up at the crack of dawn!
-coffee loving
-bed wrestling
-squeezy hugs 

What a blessing he is to our family!  His smile, his sparkly blue eyes and his incredible fun-loving charm adds so much LIFE to our family.

Thank you God for our healthy, handsome son.  What a joy he is!  We love you Toby!

(he looks like a little teenager here) 

Fall Pumpkin Carving Party

Yay Fall!  It came, it went.  It's party season around here so I got to get my creative juices flowing for our first annual pumpkin carving party.  We invited some friends and neighbors and had a very full house with lots of pumpkin fun.

A few of my crafty elements...

Pumpkin rice krispies

Pumpkin brownies

Pumpkin cupcakes

There was a pumpkin carved out with hummus dip for a veggie tray in the candy corn veggie arrangement
Pumpkin painting

Pumpkin take-away candies
Pumpkin cheese-ball with crackers

Pumpkins made of paper, hanging from the ceiling

And a littering of pumpkins around our home for decor....

I went a bit pumpkin crazy.

Why?  Cause it's fun!  And I love fall. Being creative brings me to life.  If you look back over my high school poster projects (and ANY projects) they were always over the top ....I never knew how to do things half-way.  I love decorating BUT I especially love inspiring community, and togetherness and fun.

Pants Season

Toby hates pants.  I'm not sure when this happened, but he cannot stand to wear anything other than what he calls "soft shorts."  Sport shorts.  I've tried, OH I've tried to convince him that sweat pants are, indeed, 'longer' soft shorts but he doesn't believe me.  Every day we fight about this. As soon as pants are on he turns into a wet noodle, a puddle of whining on the floor.

his favourite pair 

Good times.  Don't you love how overwhelming these problems seem to a 2 year old? I mean, aArmageddon The world is ending!  The sky is falling!  I HAVE TO WEAR PANTS. 

Thing is, it's getting like, ridiculously cold outside.  (Bear with me, all you people living in the rest of Canada.  9 degrees celsius is 'freakin' cold in our neck of the woods).  But, bad news, dear 2 year old! It's winter!  It's not summer any longer! You cannot wear shorts or crocs anymore, you need to dress warmer!  You, versus the weather?  You will LOSE dear boy.

GIVE IN TO THIS SEASON! 

The only thing that seems to convince him lately is to wear shorts UNDER his pants or leave his shorts by the front door so that as soon as he comes back inside, he can switch back to his comfort wear.

This example has been an 'aha' for me lately in reminding me of myself.  Isn't it great when you are trying to teach 2 year olds life lessons, and YOU are the one who needs the reprimand?

I've been helping facilitate a book study at our Church all about motherhood and it's been awesome and challenging and encouraging and, yeah, you get the point.  And a few things she said hit me:

“My ultimate encouragement to you so that you don’t feel defeated [in your role as a mother?]  Give in to your season of life.  You will feel desperate sometimes, I know, and it’s scary some days.  But the more you allow yourself to be fully and completely invested in the discipling of your children, the less defeated you will feel.”

“you will struggle immensely if you do not have a resolve regarding your role as a mother.”

-From Desperate by Sarah Mae and Sally Clarkson

I would love to travel more.  I would love to get more exercise and push my body to it's physical limits.  I would love to sit down and read a whole book, cover to cover.  I'd love to get more education, specializing in a different area of nursing.  I'd love to take trips with my husband, I'd love to.... (insert list of like 1000 other things).

But, Shannon, GIVE IN TO YOUR SEASON OF LIFE ALREADY!

This is not the season for all those things.  Right now, my season of life means that my days go by slowly.  It means my house is often a mess.  This season means for making snacks and meals constantly, running up and down stairs to insert a soother in a baby's mouth, and dusty book shelves.  

Yet, this season is filled with cuddles and imagination, beautiful soft baby cheeks and laughter-rich chaos.  It's a season of sharing war stories with other moms with kids the same age.  A season of interrupted sleep and pancake breakfasts, and long afternoon walks.  It's a season of tickling chubby thighs and belly laughs.  

Embrace it, Shannon!  Stop fighting it!  You are in this season, for but a brief time.  Leave your shorts at the door, and go outside!  Frolick in the cool air and crunch the hard leaves under your feet, with PANTS on, and save the shorts for summer.  Stop crying about the reality of your current situation and enjoy it!  Be in it! 

Whatever season you are in, enjoy the best of it before it's gone like sand between your fingers.  Fight for joy.  Right here.  Right now.  By the attitude of your heart.  [P.s I'm talking to me, don't worry.  I'm sure you've got this figured out already]

30 Years

30.
I could look back over the last ten years and ramble on about all the things I did and yet want to do.   The places I went and long to go.  I was planning to, you know me, make another list or two.

But today I put on a different lens.
And all I see, all I see when I look back along this path
is grace.
Undeserved love.

I soared on great heights. I saw beauty unfathomable.  I crawled through dark valleys.  I limped.
But I don't see those moments, those seasons.
All I see is His presence.
With me.
Through it all.
And I could weep for joy- not because of the good times, and not despite the bad times but because He has never let me go.  Not once.

So many holy moments.
Barren of the trivial, penetrated by the presence of the One who has loved me from the beginning of my days here.

Today I choose to remember:

That day.  Vows. Worship. The day that my hopes, my prayers, my yearnings, were met in a beautiful union.  My husband, besides salvation- the greatest gift I have ever received.  And You were there beaming with joy.

I remember for the first time, washing hands, face, feet, of the dying.  Comforting the sick.  You were there- drenching me with Your spirit to be poured out of me in love for the broken.  I was made to do this.  My great life passion awakened- to be like Jesus.

I remember leg raised on the couch, knee bandaged, whimpering in pain.  Injured and worried I'd never be able to walk properly again, hike again, run again.  Watching and waiting as little by little I was able to move again, bike again, live again.  And You were there in the loving hands of my husband, caring for me in all the ways I couldn't care for myself.

I remember pinching pennies, at the bottom of bank accounts, worrying we would never make ends meet. Feebly trusting and still giving away, scraping at the bottom of the pan and You were there.  You provided.

I remember knees trembling, baggage in hand, giving up comfort to be face to face with the poor and needy. And You were there, bowing me low to the dust.  Giving me Your eyes and Your heart and Your joy- the joy You had in giving up Your life to serve those in far off lands.

I remember veins clogged with clots, again, fear seizing my heart.  New diagnosis. Would I have children? Injecting my belly daily with sharp, painful needles.  And You were there reminding me that even this, even THIS was in Your hands.

I remember flesh of my flesh, being born.  The panic, the anxiety, the emergence, the relief, the beauty, the awe, the reality of this new life come from my life.  You were there, marvelling with me over ten perfect fingers and toes.  Carrying my burdens, my pains, my sorrows, my hopes and dreams close to Your heart.

I remember being curled up on the couch, being swallowed in the greatest and deepest darkness of depression.  The night of my soul.  So thick, so dark, so heavy I didn't think I would ever see dawn.  Nights upon endless nights of sleeplessness.  And You brought me back from the dead.  You gave me hope that one day things would be different, and they are.

Every memory I have - skinned knees, broken heart, sorrow, humility, joy, love...every corner of my life: You were there.  Your grace.  Your love.  Your hope.  Your light.  My life has been lived in the shadow of Your presence.

And I am so thankful.

That is what I look forward to and what I look back over: a landscape of love.  Not without valleys and swamps and deserts and lowlands, not without peaks and mountaintops, waterfalls and gardens...His light shining over it all.

So 30 is just another day.  Just another moment in a lifetime lived within His love.  Praise God.

6 Months and Counting

Dear Fiona,
You are 6 months and I want to remember you just as you are, right now:

I love seeing your smile engulf your entire face.  You light up with a huge dimple on your cheek when you see your mama and that makes me full of joy.  

You love to be talked to, to see your brothers googly eyed in your face, and to play peek-a-boo.  You love to be tickled roughly and sung to.  

I am in love with your rolls.  Girl, I love your chub.  It is beautiful and you are healthy and I will snuggle your little pudge with delight.  I love feeding you right before I go to bed.  All soft and cuddly, and quiet, you are peaceful and it is my 'sigh' at  the end of the day.  

But that's the calmest you get.  Most of the time, you are the wiggliest baby I've ever seen.  You are aware, alert, and trying desperately to crawl and grab at everything.  You are a pincher!  You turned over at 3 months and since 4 months you ALWAYS turn onto your tummy from your back.  Now, you push yourself up and back onto your knees and are trying desperately to pitch yourself forward.  A few weeks and you will be everywhere, I just know it!  

You love to be spoken softly to but have a deep, throaty giggle that I think is adorable.  Your brothers are sweet on you.  You are adored.  You are beloved.  You are sweet.  But I do wish you would nap.  This whole '15 minute napping at a time' thing is getting old.  However, I will carry you as long as my back allows and enjoy our long walks in the stroller.  

You are a gift.  You bring joy to my heart.  Thank you Jesus for sending us this sweet girl!

Help! Silas is holding me!

It's okay.  He's got this.

Night time snuggles.

Finding my toes!

Always have my mouth open!

She's got a bit of red hair but it will probably turn out blonde.

Lovin the ride!

 

In my laundry boat

Ready to explore the world

Mama's girl!

The Questions of a Sufferer

Why me?
Why now? 
Why this?
How long?

The rantings, mumblings, prayers and petitions of a suffering person.
The deep, throaty cries of someone enduring unexpected trauma, hardship.

Our prayers start with these questions. 

But it's an interesting journey, this suffering thing.
We start with angry shouts, which turn to mournful laments, which end (if we let it) with quiet sobs and submitted hearts.  And the questions change.
We stop asking why and how long.
And we start asking, 

"Who else?"

Who else is sitting with head in hands, tears streaming, and life heavy on their backs?
Who else is crying out and moaning, writhing and weeping?
Who else needs comfort, needs encouragement, needs a hand to hold and another to believe for them: that it will be okay in the end?

The journey of an afflicted one: why me....becomes who else?

And this, this is how the world will be changed.
This is how bad and evil is redeemed to good.
Because all of a sudden in our deepest sorrows, when God gives us more of His grace and His comfort and His strength, we see others with new eyes.

Where there was once 'othering' and 'discriminating' there becomes compassion and empathy.  One-ness.  Unity.  We are all experiencing the broken-ness of this world in some way.  And we need each other.  We need to be Christ to each other.  Enduring with, walking with, journeying with, each other.

And though suffering can harden and embitter, it can also bring about community where there was once isolation.  Like a hot fire in a dark and cold night, it can draw people together to sit around it, shoulder to shoulder and share stories.  Hard stories.  Good stories.  Real stories.  

So I choose to continue to be purified by this fiery furnace of affliction so that I can journey with others who are walking under heavy loads.  I choose not to be embittered.  Not to withdraw.  Not to wallow in the questions (any longer) of why me, why this, and why now.

And instead,
look around.

Who else?

On Facing Giants

I see you there, Giant.
And I am trembling.
I am quivering because, you see, I know your height.  I know your strength. I see you rage against me.  
We are well acquainted, you and I.  How long's it been?  Five years already?
I see your armour, I know the jab of your spear.  
I have felt the blood trickle down my face from another blow to the head.
Your fists have pummeled, your breath has been hot against my cheek as you've fought against me.
I see you standing there, all haughty and proud.  You think I'm defeated.  
And I have believed you for a long time.
Too long.
So long.
You have stood in my way, I have been a slave to my fear of you.
The landscape behind you is hidden by your shadow. 
I cannot see the view because of your stance.
I have long stood before you, timid and low.  Beaten and broken.  Bloody and raw.  
I am afraid because you, my enemy, know me well.
You know that I am weak to save myself, and my heart is heavy.
You know that my determination is waning and I am bone weary.
You know that I am still little, you are still big, and you won't back down.
But, Giant, you are in my way. The only way past you, is to defeat you.
I can't do it.  I can't fight your way any longer.
And do you see that?
My weaponry has changed.  I have shed my previous armour.
See behind me?  See around me?  See before me? 
My God is with me.
You don't stand a chance.
I have a stone.  I have a sling.  And my arm is positioned to strike.
And He is able.
He is able.
He is able.
I am still trembling.  
I have fought you for 5 long years.
Five.
But this time will be different.  
It will, because my need is great and my Savior is bigger.
He will save me from your hot headed accusations.
He will save me from the fear that grips me in the night, every night.
He is mighty to save
I am just a girl.
A small girl, with a small stone, and a sling.
But you, Giant, you are defeated already because my God is bigger.
And I will face you.  This time I will face you.  
I will not bow low to you.  I will not kiss your feet.  I will not tremble.
Steady now, heart, I will not tremble.
I will trust.
I will believe. 
I will walk forward, believing my path will be made smooth.
And my enemy will be trampled under my feet.
With my foot on your face, I will view the horizon and walk forward in strength.
Be still, trembling feet.
Be steady, galloping heart.
The journey awaits.  
The fight must begin.
Don't back down.
Because Your God is able.

Facing a big personal Giant right now.  Pray for me!