Best Sisters Forever

Anika started praying for a sister when she was two years old. She kept praying for three and a half years, and she never stopped believing that God would answer her prayers.

And then He did. I will never forget what it was like to call Anika from the hospital with the news that her baby sister had been born (and of course my mom captured the moment on camera!).

Anika just giggled. And kept giggling.

And now they giggle together.

They also fight a lot, the most popular reason being Kaylia’s large area of personal space, and Anika is forever getting in it, trying to hug and kiss her….while still refusing to share her toys. Things can get ugly at times.

But things can also be so beautiful, too.

One of the greatest joys of my life is watching our girls being sisters.

So, in honor of Kaylia’s birthday, I put together a little slideshow of Anika and Kaylia…

Kaylia’s Favorite Things 2012

Today our sweet girl turns three! We’ve been partying it up for the last couple of days, and today we will relax!

As is the tradition around here, I always make a list of the birthday person’s favorite things, which has proven to be a lot of fun for our family to look back on each year, as our girls get older. Read Kaylia’s list from last year here.

Here is Kaylia’s list for this year:

Food: Bananas, watermelon, meat (any kind, she loves it all), scrambled eggs, whole apples (apples cut in slices are completely rejected by her), smoothie pops or banana pops (I followed my friend Nikki’s directions: 2 Tbsp. cocoa and a banana in the food processor, frozen in a popsicle mold, you totally have to try it!! It will be everyone’s new favorite!)

Toys: play food, lego, anything she can steal from Anika because someone else’s toys are always more exciting, her dollhouse, Polly Pockets

Books: The illustrated Little House on the Prairie books and Curious George books

Things to Do: Helping me in the kitchen – she loves cooking soup, because she’s obsessed with stirring things, and she likes to put all the chopped vegetables in the bowl. She tells stories with her little dolls, plays with lego, and has picnics, all day long.

Song: “I Have a Dream”, from Tangled

My Favorite Things About Her:

I love her hugs.

I love it that she skips EVERYWHERE!

I love how she has to be wherever Anika is. Even when we separate them because Anika is pestering Kaylia, she still wants to go after her beloved big sister, because she can’t stand to be apart from Anika.

I love reading to her. She’s just starting to get interested in chapter books, which is so much fun.

I love her very detailed explanations about things that have happened to her. Someone asked me today if my three-year-old was talking much, and I almost laughed, just because she won’t stop talking.

I love her grin, and her laugh which sounds exactly like Anika’s, and I love how she asks me to come read or do puzzles or play with her.

I love being able to love her. I love feeling complete as a family, and I love how God chose to bless us with our little Kaylia!

Privacy Is Overrated

In our new back yard, we have a lovely row of trees.

I am often extremely thankful for that row of trees, because they are my little bit of nature – green, fresh, and beautiful, in this vast and barren land of New Development. We chose to build our house on this lot because of that very row of trees.

The other day someone asked me if we were enjoying our privacy, provided by those trees, and also because we don’t live at camp anymore, where almost all of life is shared, all the time.

I didn’t know how to answer that question about privacy. The old me would have said yes. But after five years of living in close community with people, I’m finding I don’t like privacy as much as I used to.

I have always loved my own space. I love having a schedule and a to-do list, and although I have always liked people, I would sometimes start to view them as an interruption to my perfect little plan.

It was hard for me to adjust to camp. There were always people around. We shared a duplex (and an entrance, and a laundry room) with another family, we shared a yard, we shared the majority of our meals with others.

People were forever wanting to get together to play games after all the kids were in bed. There was stuff going on almost every night. It wore me out. I thought it was good and healthy to say “no” to socializing all the time, and I still believe in creating space and margins for sanity.

But I went too far the other way. I said “no” too many times, and suddenly I found myself sitting in our quiet house, having backed into a perfect, isolated corner…and I was completely lonely and miserable.

I am so thankful for friends who kept making the effort, kept trying to share life on a regular basis. Now that we’ve moved, I find myself wishing I’d said “yes” a lot more often.

Now that we’re in Niverville, I hardly recognize myself, I’m so hungry for social opportunities. Look out, neighbors! If you’re new, and moving onto our street, we’re coming for you!

I still love that row of beautiful trees, because I need my nature. But I don’t need as much privacy as I used to.

In our culture, it seems as though we sit in our private homes with our private yards, and leave each other alone so everyone else can live their own busy, private lives. Someone at the door is a rare occurrence (while at camp, I couldn’t even count the number of times in a day when someone was at the door).

It’s easy to plan people right out of our lives. It’s easy to get so caught up in our own schedule, in our own comfort and desires. Community drags me away from my plans and my lists. Being close to others is sometimes the only way for me to always remember they are there.

A friend once told me that growing up in a large home made it very possible for everyone to retreat into their own little worlds.

Can’t get along with someone? Go hide in your own room where no one will get in your personal space.

Can’t agree on what to watch on TV? No problem – there are enough TVs to go around. Go watch whatever you want by yourself in the basement.

Can’t shower or use the bathroom whenever you want? Heaven forbid we should have to wait. Every home should have three bathrooms, at least, right?

I have tried to retreat to my own private place to avoid problems, but in the long run, it doesn’t work out very well.

At some point, I’ve always had to come out. And everything is still waiting there for me.

When we first moved to camp, there was a relationship I struggled with. I told Ben about it, and declared the solution – I needed more space from the person, before they drove me crazy. I needed to take a break from being around them all the time.

But Ben said, “No, you need to spend MORE time with them. You need to spend SO MUCH time with them, that you get past the annoyance, and learn how to truly love them.”

And you know what? It totally works. It’s very hard, but it does work.

Although we’ve moved into a three bedroom house almost twice the size of what we had at camp, I don’t want us to lose each other.

A small space keeps you connected. That’s why we’ve chosen to have our girls share a room. And it’s why we won’t be finishing out our basement any time soon, unless the number of people living in this house increases.

And close neighbors keep you from yourself! Now, when my sweet new friend down the street says, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry…” I smile and think to myself, “Oh, please do! Pry away.” I will try to embrace the discomfort that comes with losing my privacy, knowing that it brings growth, character development, and a connection to people.

I will continue to love that row of trees in our backyard, but I will also continue to hope for a yard full of neighbors and their loud children, and many knocks on the door. Keep me from my private corner. Remind me that life is meant to be shared and lived together.

Been Missing Sunsets

Oh my goodness – have all these sunsets seriously been happening here for five years, and I’ve missed them all?? It was lovely being in the middle of the forest, but it was so hard to see the setting sun.

And it turns out I’m still a prairie girl at heart. Something happens inside of me when I’m surrounded by big, open spaces. Add a sunset to that wide open space, and I’m set.

I could not count how many thousands of sunsets I’ve walked into with my mom, or biked into with my dad. I grew up in the country, and on those warm summer evenings, we would always head west. We’d walk or bike until the colors had all faded, and then we’d reluctantly turn around and head home.

I miss the lake, but seeing the sunset from our living room window is definitely helping to ease the pain.

I’m sure there’s a limit as to how many sunset pictures I can take, but I find it fascinating how they’re always changing, always unique.

Also? Clouds make a sunset more beautiful. Life is perhaps the same way?

Weekend Favorites: Coming Home

We spent this last weekend at the lake.

My parents have a cabin about five minutes away from the camp where we used to live. It was such a strange experience to go back! It felt so completely normal and familiar to drive those roads, but when we got to the Red Rock Bible Camp sign, and kept driving past, Ben said he couldn’t believe how surreal it felt.

Anika has still been struggling with the move, and she keeps saying camp is home. She wants to go home. We had a long talk the other day about how lots of people feel like camp is home for them, even though they don’t live there year-round like we did. It’s such a special place for so many people, and we were very blessed to call it home for five whole years.

I told her it might always feel like home, and that’s okay. We get to have two homes.

She seemed okay with that idea.

So this weekend was about coming home, in either direction. I know every curve of that highway, I know those trees and lakes.

But coming home to our new house felt awfully nice. I missed it.

And that was a very good feeling!

*******************

Our weekend was filled with family…

Grandpa’s pancakes…

A little bit of boating…

And a lot of drinking in the beauty. How I’ve missed it!

It was good to be back.

Anticipating Great Things

We’re at the lake for the long weekend, so I’ll be back tomorrow with some weekend favorites!

(Kaylia all packed up and eagerly waiting to leave for the cabin.)

I hope your weekend was all you were anticipating it to be!

An Answer to Prayer Knocked on Our Door Yesterday

Well, I’ve been reminded once again that my faith is too small.

I was reading the Bible to Anika before bed, and I read these verses from John:

When Jesus saw Nathanael approaching, he said of him, “Here is a true Israelite, in whom there is nothing false.”

“How do you know me?” Nathanael asked.

Jesus answered, “I saw you while you were still under the fig tree before Philip called you.”

Then Nathanael declared, “Rabi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel.”

Jesus said, “You believe because I told you I saw you under the fig tree. You shall see greater things than that.” He then added, “I tell you the truth, you shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.”

And I thought to myself, “How often do I settle for the vision of the fig tree, when God is thinking, ‘Good grief, that was nothing! Just wait until you see what else I have planned!’“

How often does He long for me to expect big things from Him?

A few months ago, while we were still living at camp, Anika and I were having a bedtime talk, and she told me how worried she was about making new friends in Niverville when we moved. I suggested we pray about it, and ask God to bring a friend into her life.

She was very excited about this idea, so we got right to work, and she started confidently, and very specifically, asking God to send her a friend, who would live on the same street as us, and be homeschooled, so she wouldn’t get lonely in the afternoons.

I experienced a moment of panic, and began silently (frantically) praying for God to keep her faith intact when this impossible request would not be filled. Seriously, what were the chances of that happening?

And God sat there listening to all this, possibly shaking His head at me??

I answered a knock at the door yesterday, and there stood the masonry man, who turned out to be from my hometown. I didn’t recognize him at first, seeing as it’s been many, many years since we were in school together, but we figured out all the connections.

As he was working on our house today, we started chatting, and he said it would be great if we could meet his family. He also has two little girls, and he was wondering if we might like some grass to play on, for a nice change from our yard of dirt.

I told him we would be all over that idea, and would love to meet a new family, as we are on the hunt for kids to play with, especially since Anika is homeschooled and all.

And then he got all excited, and said they were homeschooling their daughter, and live about three houses down from us, and I should totally call his wife, and of course become best friends, and he had already sent her a text asking her to bring him a drink or something, just so we could somehow all meet.

Everything worked out in the end, and we had such a fantastic time with his lovely family.

And you know what? When Anika starts making bold, detailed requests of God in the future, I will just go with it.

Last night, I even prayed for more little girls to move onto our street.

Homeschooled ones!

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait?!

This would be me. With my new camera.

My big day – I’ve been waiting all my life!

When I was younger, my dad would take photography courses, and I would be his assistant as he went around taking pictures for his assignments. It was my job to spray the roses with a water bottle so he could photograph the droplets on the petals.

One of the greatest family activities was getting out old slides, and having “slideshows” of when we were babies, or of favorite family vacations. I still feel warm inside when I think of those times together in the dark, laughing and reminiscing.

I grew up surrounded by good camera equipment, and good photography. I always knew I’d want a fancy camera someday, but I wanted to be ready. Financially, it just hasn’t been possible before, and it wasn’t really necessary. I wanted to use our little point and shoot camera to death. I wanted to develop my ability with the basics as much as I could before moving up to the fancy stuff.

Well, through some interesting opportunities, I was able to save up almost enough money. Our old camera is still plugging along, but it’s cracked, and smoking, and the final straw was losing the battery charger during our move. We were without a camera for a whole week! (A very difficult week for me!)

But it all worked out in the end, because Ben decided to combine my Mother’s Day and birthday gifts, and buy my long-awaited camera. I love it, but I’m still slightly scared to touch it!

It’s a little intimidating. I don’t have a hot clue what I’m doing. But we went for a walk together last night, my new camera and I, and spent some time getting to know each other a little bit, so we might get along okay. Some classes will definitely speed up that process.

And guess what? The day after I received my shiny new camera, I finally found the old battery charger! It always works that way! But it’s okay, because we do still need that old friend, as well.

Here’s hoping this is the start of something good…:)

Bittersweet Mother’s Day

If everything had gone the way we thought it would, we would have celebrated a birthday here last week.

We would have had another little munchkin running around here, turning five years old.

I don’t think about that very often. Except around Mother’s Day. When that old due date rolls around, there are some dreams I once dreamed that are buried way down deep, but keep coming up to the surface each May.

And you know what? I’m glad they do. It makes Mother’s Day a little bittersweet, but I’ve gotten used to it. And this year, I realized I’ve even become thankful for it.

Although I don’t think about that baby much anymore, those bittersweet thoughts remind me of how much I really do have. If we had never gone through any miscarriages, I’m sure I would still love our girls like crazy, I’d still be so thankful for them.

But I think that as a mom, having loved and lost, even when it was only for a few weeks, puts things into perspective.

I like perspective.

I like it that all this happiness is here, even after a good amount of pain. I like how things worked out in the end. I really always wanted three or four kids, but I like finding out how nice two can be.

I like thinking there are babies in heaven waiting for me. I don’t think about that a lot either – I feel a bit of a jolt anytime I have to fill out a medical form that asks how many pregnancies I’ve had, and I realize I need to write down a number “four”.

I am the mother of four children. That sounds kind of plentiful, doesn’t it? An odd feeling for a mom who never felt like she had enough, for so many years.

Those years seemed to go on forever, and now suddenly, they are done. Suddenly I am happy, and suddenly that time seems so much shorter than it did while it was happening.

I wish so much that I could dump hope on all the people who are waiting for something.

I wish I could pass on the peace that’s found in just knowing that God knows, and in the end, even the pain is worth it and part of you, and you wouldn’t go back and change it. I wish I could gift someone with the perspective that comes in the end.

Oh, I wasn’t going to do this, but I really do need to quote Donald Miller one more time, even though there’s been a lot of him around here in the last few weeks:

…We were designed to live through something rather than to attain something, and the thing we were meant to live through was designed to change us. (p.70, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years)

I’ve lived through something, and it has changed me. Some days I still feel like I mess up an awful lot as a mom, but I do think I’m a better mom because of all we’ve gone through.

For me, Mother’s Day is not just a celebration of this relationship, but it’s also a celebration of what it took to get here. We made it through, and it has been very, very good. These girls of mine are precious, special gifts, and having loved and lost along the way has taught me a little bit about the value of life.

The bitter has made me realize how sweet this life of mine really is!

Write a Good Story

If I have a hope, it’s that God sat over the dark nothing and wrote you and me, specifically, into the story and put us in with the sunset and the rainstorm as though to say, Enjoy your place in my story. The beauty of it means you matter, and you can create within it even as I have created you. (p.59, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years)

It’s interesting that in the Bible, in the book of Ecclesiastes, the only practical advice given about living a meaningful life is to find a job you like, enjoy your marriage, and obey God. It’s as though God is saying, Write a good story, take somebody with you, and let Me help. (p. 246-247, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years)

Isn’t that great? That last line is my favorite.

Writing a good story has been on my mind a lot in the recent weeks, for two reasons:

1. I just finished Donald Miller‘s book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, which is so good that you should really head on over to Amazon immediately to buy it. It is changing everything about the way I look at life.
2. Everything in our lives has been changing anyway, because of moving. We are in this huge state of transitioning and starting over, so Ben and I have had many, many talks about how to start well. What do we want our story to be? How do we want this to look? What choices do we want to make which might not make sense to everyone else right now, but lead to the story we want to write, as a whole? Big questions, lots of ideas, a work in progress.

What I’m finding most often right now, is that “good” doesn’t have to be “big”. I think our culture teaches us that in order for something to be worthwhile, meaningful, and valuable, it needs to be big – big dreams, big ambition, big success.

But how often is it not the little things which really end up being the big things? The good things are the small, simple things.

If God chose to make every single sunset different and unique, just for the beauty of it, you’d think it means He’s into details. He seems to create for the pleasure of it. He made us to create, for the pleasure of it.

He also gave us the ability to experience flashes of joy from such simple things, we almost don’t notice it – flash, and then it’s gone.

But in a world with so much pain and suffering, I think the small flash is noteworthy – it gives us more joy to hang on and let it linger, and it tells us something about God’s view of size. Small flashes of joy, again and again and again, add up after awhile. He made it pretty easy for us to feel joy, but He often does so in the small things.

So basically, I’m learning about living a good life, writing a good story, and realizing that it’s found in the little things, in holding onto the quick flashes.

It’s the everyday stuff, like loving my family, going off on an adventure, and finding Jesus in all of it.

Now you should go buy Donald Miller’s book.