Good Mothers

I'll admit it. Baking with my kids is one of those things I just don't do. It's time consuming. It's messy.

I think nothing of mixing, rolling, creating with my kindergarteners on Tuesdays, but at school I put on my Fun Hat. I rarely wear the hat home. Baking is an activity I think "good mothers" do. Like crafts. And handmade wrapping paper. And as I passed the Christmas candy-making off to Juliana this year (who did a beautiful job, by the way), I carved out some time today to make cookies for Santa/ birthday treats for Jesus.

We made my favorite, and really the only cookies I ever bake from scratch, chocolate peanut butter cookies. The last time I can remember making them was for Juliana's graduation from her toddler reading class at the library. I'm not kidding. I just don't bake cookies.

Holt cracked his first egg. This is his kind of cooking activity. It involves breaking something. Juliana did a lot of overseeing and mixing with the beater. They all three rolled up their sleeves and rolled the dough into balls. Holt came and went as he found our activities to be interesting, like sticking his hands in raw dough.

Mouse was the last one to leave the scene. She pulled up the stool and waited patiently for them to emerge from the oven.

The cookies are cooling. Kitchen cleaned. Memories made. And one big fat pat on the back for me.

Slippers

Juliana and I were blessed to be able to attend (for free! Thank you, thank you, Kelly!) the Nativity Ballet this past weekend. If you're ever anywhere near North Georgia during the holidays, you must see it for yourself. It tells through dance, the story of The Birth and even presents the Gospel and Good News of The One who came to save.

The moment I took home with me is in the last scene. In the finale, the man who plays Jesus returns to stage. All the dancers enter, sit, remove their ballet slippers, and raise them to Him. Use my gift for Your glory.

And I've found myself replaying that profound moment ever since. I have so many friends with such obvious gifts. My husband has obvious gifts, my oldest as well. My son has a brain that works in amazing ways. Who knows what talents will emerge in Mouse. I'm struggling to figure out what I was given (because the Bible confirms I was!) and how to use it. I want my own slipper to raise.

And did I mention I'm approaching 40? Call this a mini midlife crisis, but what am I doing with my talents? I want to hear those words, You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your Master.

Christmas Mouse

Joyful Noise

Juliana sang the special music at Damascus Road Baptist Church in Canton two Sundays ago. Birch was preaching there for a friend who had asked if I could perform a solo. Take a moment and enjoy that scenario.

Instead, I sent my beautiful daughter in my place who did the most breathtaking (biased, I know) a cappella version of O Come, O Come Emmanuel. I was nervous as she's never done anything without accompaniment, and to me, this is kind of like singing naked. It's just you and your voice... nothing to cover anything up. I think I held my breath the entire three verses. It's the first time I've ever been lead in a worshipful moment by my child. It was truly a Christmas moment to remember.

The Year of the Lego

In the morning Holt gets up, puts on his glasses, visits the bathroom, and heads to the couch with the laptop to peruse his favorite place in the world...Legoland on the web. He revisits the laptop off and on all day. It's his magnet. He knows every Star Wars lego kit by name, number and price. He has replayed each video on the site. He has agonized multiple times each day over which ones he should save up for, which ones Santa might bring, and whether or not the ones that are sold out will ever become available again. 7 year old stress.


We had a very simple birthday gathering for him this year, just us and John and Lora. Holt had an Upward basketball game that morning and we celebrated after. He wanted a Star Wars cake (and on a side note, I was somewhat surprised to see that Ahsoka, who I've heard him talk about continuously and who Birch bought to put on his cake, was a woman. Who knew?). Birthday moments to remember: Mom was a hero. Her lego set was on the sold out list. Major score. And when he opened ours, he rejoiced,"This one's 59.99 plus tax and shipping!" Priceless!

He also got a really cool retro lego airplane kit from his Nana and Pop, and at the end of the day, according to Juliana's calculations, Holt was the proud owner of over 1200 lego pieces. Guess how many I've already stepped on?

Good and Faithful Servant

I can't begin to do her justice with my words.

You would've had to have known her. She was born in 1916 and was one of four children. She survived the Depression and had plenty of stories to share about it. She liked to tell of how little money she and my grandfather had the day they got married. For their honeymoon they went to the movies. They moved to Florida and started a family. My grandfather worked at the Palm Beach Post. Grams worked for Jordan Marsh as a shoe salesgirl. She spent too many years bent over, slipping shoes onto others' feet. She knew more about the value of a dollar than anyone else I've ever known.

She was a servant in the name of Jesus. She served tirelessly during Wednesday night supper. She counted the offering on Monday afternoons. She counselled. She told the Good News.

She wasn't typical. Huge Understatement. And she wasn't like anyone else's grandma. She didn't spoil us or think we could do no wrong. I felt the sting of the sole of her slipper on the back of my thigh on more than one occasion. One morning when I refused to get out of the sleeper sofa at her home, she folded me up in it. When my father bought me my first car in 1986, she told me I didn't deserve it. I was hurt by that remark, but I've since come to see its wisdom. I didn't. That's what made it such a great gift.

When something was really funny, she would laugh until she cried. Really cried. When she disagreed, she told you flat out. When you needed it, she quoted scripture. When you didn't ask for her opinion, she gave it.

There was a magnet on her refrigerator that stated, "God said it. I believe it. That settles it." The middle line bothered her. She told me that it didn't really matter if we believed it or not. If God said it, it was settled.

The year my marriage went sour, she called me every day. The list of people like that was a short one. I remember my mom once telling me that she had called her crying after one of our conversations, telling my mom it was so difficult to handle my pain. I've never once seen or heard her cry out of sadness. To know that I had merited such a response... humbling. She loved me. I miss her.

She was our matriarch, the one who drew a line in the sand and declared ours to be a heritage of faith. The week before she died, my cousin Karen and I were standing on either side of her bed. She looked from one of us to the other and said, "Such beautiful granddaughters I have... all three of them...and every one of you a Christian." This was her legacy to claim.

To quote Karen, she had finished the race strong. When told others were praying for her, she would remark, "They need to pray for themselves." She knew she was soon for Heaven, and there was no fear, only peace. It was truly her Homecoming.

There will never be another like her, leprechaun in size, mighty in spirit. In us she lives on and it's her story we also tell. We claim, "Jesus is King. He is Messiah", and in that, her lineage, that ripples behind her, will span into countless tributaries and outnumber the stars.

Thanksgiving

Most days I am very stoic about loss. It sometimes seems as if it didn't even happen to me. Some days I even feel guilty about that.

But other days, like today, it blindsides me. Today we should have held our baby on his first Thanksgiving. And when I picture what that would have been like, the bitterness and emptiness threatens to overtake me.
WHY? WHY? WHY???

Last night at church, Birch passed out post-it notes. He had each person write down five disappointments from his/her life. They were then to crumple up and toss the least painful one, and on and on until all that was left was the Big One. He said that it was very likely that whatever was left was the One Thing we were still holding onto, the one thing we were still angry and confused about, the one question we still asked of God.

The Bible tells us that the only Wise One is God (Romans 16:27). Wisdom is Jesus and no man has an ounce of wisdom on his own. It is through faith in Christ that we are wise in Him.

He then had everyone record their five biggest blessings in order to remind us how good He is because all good things come from Him.

And he read the entire chapter of Psalm 107. (These are some of my favorite parts):

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
His love endures forever.
Let the redeemed of the Lord say this-
those he redeemed from the hand of the foe,
those he gathered from the lands,
from east and west, from north and south....

Let them give thanks to the Lord
for his unfailing love.
and his wonderful deeds for men,
for he satisfies the thirsty
and fills the hungry with good things....

...he saved them from their distress.
He brought them out of darkness and the deepest gloom
and broke away their chains.

He sent forth his word and healed them;
he rescued them from the grave.

...he brought them out of their distress.
He stilled the storm to a whisper;
the waves of the sea were hushed...
he guided them to their desired haven.

Whoever is wise, let him heed these things
and consider the great love of the Lord.

I am only wise in Him. I do not, will not, and cannot understand His ways. But today I have considered the great love of my Lord. In the storm, He is there. And for that, I am so deeply thankful.

I know an amazing photographer, Miranda Dodd, and she took these amazing pictures of the girls a few weeks ago at the Chrysanthemum Festival. Check out more of her work here: mjdphotography.shutterfly.com/

Ambition

Yesterday my student teacher asked Mouse what she wants to be when she grows up.

"A witch!" she replied (as I close my eyes and shake my head). Could they recall Birch's master's degree from seminary for this?

"Oh", Taylor replied. I mean what else do you say in response to that?

"Tell her why, Mouse".

"Because I can poof people. And I get to wear a skirt. And I get my own broom (she loves brooms). And I can fly on it. Oh! And I get a hat!"

I can get her a skirt... and a hat. I can even buy her her own broom. As for the flying and the poofing, I'm at a loss.

Nothing Gold Can Stay

This past weekend we made a pilgrimage to our beloved Louisville. So many (so many!) of our friends there have moved, both seminary and not. My very wonderful friend, Kara, and her family (including Holt's very wonderful friend, Caleb) is moving to Corpus Christi as soon as their house sells, so we went mainly to enjoy being with them.


The best day of the week used to be Fridays. Holt and Caleb took a Little Gym class together and afterwards we would pack up and head to lunch either at Burger King (their favorite) or McAllister's (our favorite). I looked forward to it all week long. It's no coincidence that as soon as I got in town (and dropped off Birch for his work/golf thing), I headed to McAllister's to meet her.

Holt and Caleb hadn't seen each other in almost two years. Last time we were there, Caleb had strep, and our family has a genetic strep magnet and we stayed away. As soon as Holt walked in the door that evening (Caleb had been in school during lunch), he said, "So, do you want to go to the basement or up to your room?". And two years were gone in an instant for two first grade boys.

The second day we were there they had a family celebration for their older son's birthday. I got to spend some time with Kara's extended family, who've been known to so graciously take us in and share their Thanksgiving in years past.


It was so hard to leave there Saturday night, knowing we have no idea when we'll see them again. I will miss lounging with Kara on her most comfortable couch, underneath the world's snuggliest woolly blanket doing not much of anything. I should consider it a blessing that we have friends scattered all over the U.S., but that's a little difficult to be thankful for at the moment.

We also took some time to go to the seminary pool. We don't often have access to an indoor heated pool. Did we really appreciate that awesome privilege when we lived there? Holt spent most of his time in the baby pool, but we did finally manage to coax him into the water with Jules and his daddy (and even Mouse for a while). Mouse loves the little pool... just one big warm bathtub to her, complete with toys.



We went to our old church on Sunday morning, and while it was great to hug the necks of so many old friends, I found myself looking around for faces I knew wouldn't be there and it somehow wasn't the same. Time has failed to stand still there in my absence. How dare they?

It's always bittersweet returning to a place we've once lived. As we drove past our old house, I kept picturing us there... Carolina in her exersaucer with her big cloth diaper butt, Holt on his scooter and playing with the boys next door, Juliana in her school uniform and dancing in the living room with her friends. I turned to look at the door. I kept expecting to see them tumble out, ghosts of who they used to be. I see the kids there as they were and visibly feel time sweep by us all.


Living there was one of the greatest seasons in our life. I will remember it that way always.

Legends of the Fall the 2nd

Here are some pictures I took in our front yard amidst all the leaves. They're so pretty as they turn colors and so much fun on the ground. I'm just trying not the think about the cleanup coming next!






And here's a picture of Mouse doing something for which she's famous... plugging her ears up with her fingers so she can scream to the top of her lungs without causing herself any pain.

And my favorite shot of the day:

Legends of the Fall

Today we had set aside to go to the pumpkin patch. FYI, pumpkin patches close at the end of October. Instead, we packed up a picnic and headed to the Riverside Park, our favorite wading hole in the dog days of summer.

Here's an onslaught of fall pictures.

Jules:



And Holtie:




And Mouse:




Juliana and Carolina were pretty cooperative with all my picture taking. Characteristically, Holt was not. So therefore, I have tons more pictures of the girls than I do him. Here are my favorites of them together.


And Holt, who wore his new boots (because let's face it, the only other shoes he owns are cleats and we have to convince him to wear those to football practice) and was told over and over, "Don't get wet. Don't fall in. Don't get near the water," obviously fell in and was drenched and dirty (and oblivious) the rest of the day. Catch it here:


Notice the water sluicing off of his NEW boots! And while you're at it, notice his dirty knees and mustard goatee in the picture at the top (of all three). So much for perfect pictures! Ah, well...

School Girls

The 97th Annual Chrysanthemum Show has come to town again. It takes place every year at Stilesboro Academy, a historic three room schoolhouse that General Sherman spared on his march to Atlanta. It was built in 1859 and the "God and Country" that was painted across the front wall (that caused Sherman to change his mind about burning it), still stands.
This year Juliana and a few of her theater friends were asked to dress in period clothes and circulate at the event. They spent the afternoon there and had their picture taken by most everyone attending, including the local newspaper, where they were on the front page of the Lifestyle section this morning (see below). This goes on the list as one of my favorite Small Southern Town Moments. There's been quite a few. As resistant as I was to moving here two years ago, this place really grows on you.


They've already been asked back for next year.