Nath talked about having a "fire-truck" birthday for about 363 days before it actually took place (and that's only a slight hyperbole). As of last Thursday, the fire truck birthday is a thing of the past.
The birthday boy enjoying a chocolate ice cream cone a few days prior to the big day.
Admiring his birthday cards and stickers that came in the mail from great-grandparents, grandparents, and aunts and uncles (note the necessary fire-truck shirt).
Cake!
This is Nath's new fake smile - cracks his dad right up.
Nathan was so excited about the fire engine cake that he never gave a thought to gifts...he's got older siblings, though, and they busied themselves in the laundry room with the door shut for a while before emerging with this green birthday banner and several packages...
one of which held this boat crafted from felt and Styrofoam.
Here are all his birthday treasures and the Very Useful Box he received to put them in.
From the grown-ups he got a "real" fishing pole - see how high it reaches!
We went fishing at North Lake Park that very afternoon.
(Nate's a dandy little caster...whenever he had to wait for Daddy to help Willem or manage his own line, Nate kept busy reeling in and then, Whiz, casting right back out again. He kept Daddy ducking! ;-)
Here are a few more peeks at the baby you've maybe noticed crawling around (photos by Leah).
Where's Will? Also fishing, of course. He caught the only two fish of the day.
I think I have a photo of each of our children in a swing. Eli's turn.
The day ended with each of the kids chipping in 75 cents of their spending money to buy us all a ride on the North Lake Park train. All-aboard!
Fire-trucks, fishing poles, and a family train ride!
What a fun birthday!
We love you, Nathan!
Growth in Christian maturity should manifest itself in numerous ways. One of them is that we should become less and less enamoured with the myths we tell ourselves of how unique we are as individuals, of how we have limitless potential, of how we really do have the last word on everything. In short, we should become less childish. Instead, we should become more conscious of how we are really just like everyone else - limited, dependent, finite, fallen. We should also learn more and more to find our fulfillment in resting in the simple biblical, catechetical faith which describes who we are, what we need, and how we can find it in submitting in humble and reverent faith to Christ. In other words, we should become less childish and more childlike.
The last of my musings inspired by Elisabeth Elliot's Discipline.
We had just returned from a week spent visiting friends and
family. There was a mountain of laundry
in the basement. The kitchen cabinets
were sticky, and the floor needed to be mopped.
My husband returned to work. The
kids were restless, and so was I. My
sadness over leaving loved ones bred bitterness and discontent. I felt both overwhelmed by and dissatisfied
with my calling to be wife, mom, and homemaker.
The cure for my ungrateful, sinful attitude? First prayer.
Then work.
Also, I re-read a book that my neighbor had just returned,
the brief The Fruit of Her Hands by
Nancy Wilson. “It’s a book my sister and
I say we should read annually,” I had told her.
Angie agreed. But I hadn’t read
it in more than a year, so I picked it up again.
In it Nancy also struggles with her work:
I was occupied with many
mundane things like diapers and laundry and crayons and play dough…One night as
I was washing the dishes [I wondered] Shouldn’t I be leading Bible
studies? Shouldn’t I be involved in more
active evangelism? Couldn’t I ‘disciple’
someone? Didn’t God want me to do
something for Him?
Immediately I realized
what He wanted me to do. He wanted me to
do the dishes. But I still
wondered if there was something else He wanted me to do. And I realized that, yes, there was something
else. He wanted me to do them cheerfully.
As I reflected on this I
realized what I had known all along. God
had called me to be a wife, mother, and homemaker. Because of this, all the mundane things I did
were sanctified, holy, purposeful, and honoring to God… ‘I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the
mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy
acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service’ (Rom. 12:1). Not only that, I should also find contentment
and satisfaction in knowing I was doing these things unto the Lord.
Contrary to common assumption, work is not a result of the
Fall. God created Adam and placed him in
the garden to “dress it” and to “keep it.”
To work. It’s true that since the
Fall our work is especially difficult. As
a result of their sin, God declared that in sorrow the woman would bring forth
children and in sorrow and in the sweat of his face the man would eat
bread. But work itself was not the
punishment. Our God is a working God,
and He wills that we also work.
In 2 Thessalonians 3 Paul commands the saints in
Thessalonica to separate themselves from a brother who is “walking
disorderly.” What is the sin of that man? His refusal to work. “For even when we were with you,” Paul
writes, “this we commanded you, that if any would not work, neither should he
eat.”
The Reformer Martin Luther was the first to use the word
“vocation” to refer to work that was not specifically religious. He taught that not only the work of the
clergyman or the theologian, but also the work of the ditch-digger and the
mother, when done heartily, as to the
Lord, and not unto men, constituted worship (Col. 3:23).
What is your vocation?
“Essentially,
one's vocation is to be found in the place one occupies in the present. A
person stuck in a dead-end job may have higher ambitions, butfor the moment, that job, however
humble, is one's vocation…Vocations are also multiple.Any given person has many vocations. A
typical man might be, simultaneously, a husband, a father, a son, an employer, an employee, a
citizen… (Gene E. Vieth, The
Doctrine of Vocation).
Work
is the means God uses to provide for us physically and spiritually. We are tempted on one hand to disdain this
means. So the
lotteries thrive, and the welfare system swells. So everyone is out to win the raffle or make
a “quick buck.” On the other hand there
is the temptation to make work itself a god.
We are, as John Calvin wrote, idol factories, constantly giving our
loyalty to things other than God. We must remember that work is only the means;
God is still the provider. Those who are
tempted to make work their idol must ask themselves if they are neglecting their
other vocations: those of father, husband, etc.
Idleness is the devil’s workshop, but
“the sleep of a laboring man is sweet,” and that “whether he eat little or
much” (Ecclesiastes 5:12). Are you
feeling discontent today? Listless, or
dissatisfied with your vocation? Perhaps
it’s time to stoop in prayer. Perhaps it’s
time to get on your knees and mop the floor.
Well...we've been back in Colorado for one week. It's been two weeks since my sister Sherry's wedding to Joey. Time to post a few photos, eh? (Not all of the photos on this post are mine; some belong to Michelle, Erin, or Bethany, and some to Dad.)
When Kurt and Valen married nearly two years ago, I posted about their wedding the very next morning. Sherry and Joey's wedding day was every bit as lovely, but my delay in posting is intentional. This trip was more difficult for me than the one we made at Christmas. I'm not sure why. I had a hard time coming back. I've had a hard time settling back in. So I've allowed myself a little time before reflecting on our visit. I knew that if I didn't wait a bit, I'd likely end up looking back over what I'd written with chagrin.
We arrived in Iowa Tuesday afternoon and enjoyed watching Jerron (now 1 inch taller than me, making me the shortest in the family...and he's only 11! :-) play little league ball in Doon. Then we were treated to Mom's delicious Swedish meatballs for supper. "It's like she made a special supper just to celebrate us getting here!" (Leah)
Wednesday we swam at River's Bend and then set up for the wedding reception. Everything looked beautiful. Thursday Erin and I hosted a mini-spa party for Jenna, Leah, Marie, and Kara at Mom's house. Thursday evening, rehearsal.
First foot soak ever - in Grandma's roasting pan. :-)
Jenna and Leah's pretty toes.
Friday. In between getting my own children ready, I got to help Sherry and the bridesmaids get ready, too. Leah was thrilled to be present when Auntie Sher donned her bridal gown. What a stunning bride! And Joey was handsome. And they both looked happy. Very, very happy. My heart was full. Joey's mom Danita and I had dreamed about this day before Sherry and Joey even did, I think. How neat it's been to watch God's plan for them unfold. Being surrounded by our wonderful family and being a part of such a special day meant a lot to me. It was a day in which we experienced the breadth + length + depth + height of the love of our Savior, the One who is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think. To Him be the glory.
In order of age: Dad, Mom, Erin, me, Joel, Bethany, Sherry, Valen, Anna and Jerron.
So blessed to be a part of this family!
All of us.
A very color-coordinated bunch we were that day!
Joey's sister and brother and Sherry's nieces and nephews singing "This is the Day" and "Welcome to the Family" at the reception.
Our men serenading Sherry with "Sherry Baby."
Joel and Paul poured all that they had into that falsetto part!
(Side note here. Wedding days are big days for little ones. Eli was no exception. Thankfully, Mr. Hunter hasn't lost his touch - he freed my hands up just in time to watch the slide show and make sure the other four were still in line. :-)
Did I mention the wedding that took place at Grandma's the following morning? :-)
Saturday the visiting commenced. We met college friends Lee and Dawn and their two beautiful girls, Maddie and Reese, at a drive-in for lunch. From there we met up with friends Juan and Jennie and their two darling children, Mayah and Elias, at Lake Pahoja. Lots of childhood memories at that place! Then back to Mom's for baths and bed. Sunday. Church, good ol' Sunday dinner at Mom's, and then the evening service followed with visiting at the home of friends Rev. and Lael Griess. Then Grandpa and Grandma Top's (she made us a feast, too!) and John and Jeanine's on Monday, and visits with Uncle Don A. and Andy and Amanda on Wednesday. And somewhere in the middle of all that visiting, B.J. helped former-student-now-friend Paul load hogs and fine-tune an engine for a rat rod. He also got to visit Macky and help Caleb work on his bikes.
Spy any fish?
Eli smiles.
Boys will be boys.
Tuesday was our [much anticipated by Leah] day trip to DeSmet, South Dakota. If you've read Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House on the Prairie books (to yourself or to your children...and if you haven't, you should!), By the Shores of Silver Lake, The Long Winter, Little Town on the Prairie, and These Happy Golden Years take place in and around DeSmet. We really enjoyed visiting the Ingalls' homestead. It was neat to see where the big slough and the town lie in relation to their property. Plus there was just enough to keep all of the chilluns occupied. And we have a lot of chilluns!
Our big-bellied covered wagon chauffeur, Jim, couldn't get over all of our little ones. We left at lunch time and then returned to finish our tour. Jim couldn't resist: "You came back, eh? Dairy Queen will never be the same!" He also got a kick out of Leah's despair that Auntie Sherry was missing out on all the fun because she was on her honeymoon in Mexico. "Oh, well...I dare bet Mexico's an okay place, too."
Atop the lookout tower.
The dugout.
The shanty.
This one's quotable. Will: Mom, we should get a washing machine like that. The laundry would go so much faster! Mom: Really! What makes you think that? Will: It'd go so much faster because we'd all want to help you! Mom: Oh, right! I'll think about that one.
Do you think Nath enjoyed his first ever pony ride?
Covered wagon ride to the old-time school.
Old-time school.
Corncob dolls...
And rope-making...
Remember how in The Long Winter it'd take the Ingalls' ladies all day to grind just enough flour for that day's food? Now we understand why it took that long!
A few highlights...
- If you been away from Iowa for a time, you forget how green it is. If Ireland is the Emerald Isle, Iowa is the Emerald Expanse. Green as far as you can see, green until the green meets the sapphire sky with a hazy kiss. It is more humid. The humidity hits you right around Kearney, Nebraska, and it doesn't quit. I couldn't help but chuckle as I put the kids to bed in Dad and Mom's living room that first night. Ah, yes, now I remember why we would sleep in nothing but our skvvies as kids. Flat on our backs. Arms and legs sprawled out. And don't forget the fan.
- Softened water. Three cheers for softened water!
- Singing in Sher's wedding. I generally sing solo in front of people only at the occasional wedding, and I tend to get emotional at weddings, so this time, like all the others, I didn't do as well as I'd hoped. But I meant every word. And Dad and Mom both told me afterward that I did a "good job." "It was heartfelt," they said. Here I am, 30, and as eager to hear my parents' approval as I was at age three.
- The fireflies.
- The motorcycle ride Saturday night, though long before BJ hauled out Dad's old Honda I was thinking about turning in for the night. I've rode over those same roads on that same bike many a time, but behind my dad, not my husband. B.J. took me around the section that surrounds our old place, and he puttered onto Mud Crik bridge and then...oh no...turned 'er off. This is where we used to walk with our kids, and where Leah and Will would fish with Jerron. Where I walked alone the Sunday afternoon of the day Nathan was born. Where Shadow would play. Where I ran repeatedly two summers ago to catch the sunset with my camera. We sat there with the creek rippling along beneath us, and the sky turning purple above us, the fireflies coming out, and the last of the birds sweetly singing the sun to sleep. And I couldn't help it. That big ol' knot in my tummy heaved it's way up into my throat. B.J. held my hands in front of him while I laid on his neck and let the tears and all the what might have beens cry themselves out.
We left on the morning of the 4th before the sun was up. Dad and Mom, Val, Anna, and Jerron got up at 4 AM just to see us off. Dad squeezed me, and kissed me on my cheek, and squeezed me again. And I watched my kids cry and cling to my parents and I squeezed that ol' knot hard, hard, back down. A lone firefly lay haphazardly on the driveway, blinking good-bye as we climbed into the van. I drove for a little while in Nebraska - BJ only asks me to if he is really sleepy - and the rest of the trip I entertained Eli and dozed in and out, awaking to John MacArthur on the radio, then Miracles on Maple Hill,Adventures in Odyessy, Richard Peck's A Year Down Yonder... We arrived here mid-afternoon. There was Little Caesar's pizza for supper followed by Loveland's fireworks, which we watched right in our own backyard.
And I've been a unsettled ever since. Wrestling, I am, with my own discontent and ingratitude, with my own perceived loneliness and resentment with my lot in life. With the Lord's way. When I have so much for which to be grateful. When I've learned before that relying on my own strength is useless. Have I prevailed?
It was somewhere in western Nebraska, where the green gives way to scrubby spans of yellow-gray brush, that I awoke to B.J. crooning with the radio. Bless the Lord, O my soul, O my soul, worship His holy name...
Now he's just gone to work. And the kids will be up soon. And so will the sun. His singing runs through my head. Time to quit wrestling, Sarah. When you can't talk, sing. It might not sound quite like I want it to... Is it heartfelt?
