HIS Love-Letter

His love-letter is written across our lives 

daily

in every soul-nourishing detail.

We often pass by it uncelebrated 

because we expect it

and then promptly take it for granted.

{{Let it not be so.}}

{Just a little reminder to me

that God has called me Beloved, 

and writes me love-letters every day.

Each dimple and expression that thrills my heart,

every beauty that takes my breath away,

in silence and in song,

in provision 

and 

in emptiness...

He is all.

And He 

loves 

me.}

Photo interest:

1) A sleeping Aloria Mercy

2) Songbird at dusk

3) Coffee, Quiet, and Letter-writing

4) An extravagant gift from me to me 

which made me smile when it arrived in the mail

5) Love note from Susanna Glory

6) Miles smiling at me around his bottle

7) Painted wooden hearts made and gifted to me by my Clayton

8) Sunset

9) Carolina's empty-toothed smile - first tooth lost!

10) Bryce learns to draw hearts today

11) Be still my beating {creative} heart

12) Valentine-ish stamps

Exactly.

This is my boy.

He is over 5 weeks old and over 12 pounds now, and clearly,
he is a heart-breaker.

His sweet get-up is a gift from my dear friend Jana, who hand appliqued
the suspenders and tie.  What a good looking fella, my Miles!

Last night I had a fussy baby.
On the floor I sat, in a soft glow emanating from the open bathroom door.

5 week old baby Miles lay on a small flannel blanket spread before me.
Since I couldn't make him comfortable in bed, I brought him into the light
for a diaper change and a visit - I hoped (perhaps in vain) to obtain quiet
so the hard-working daddy could sleep; and in the business of being comforter
I didn't even track the time.
It could have been 1am or 5.  I could have been there for 20 minutes or and hour
I don't know, but the low steady sound of breathing from behind me was a balm as
Daddy slept on.

To my supreme pleasure, the clean diaper and small-talk with Miles seemed to
be just what the boy needed.  Since I was already awake, I took some time to
marvel over all his small parts, features, and the pudgy rolls in his arms and legs.
He is a "plush" baby, as my friend Lauri likes to say :-)

I've been told he looks like me.
I think he looks perfect.
I smile in his sleepy face and whisper endless "I love yous", bending lower
over his body to smell his hair.
Again.

How do mothers do it?  How do mothers function on so little sleep?
When asked, I'll stare blankly.  "Do it?"  Do you really think I am doing it?"
That's what I think to myself.
I happen to know that I'm running on prayer, grace, and the fumes of imagined sleep.
Just yesterday my 10 year-old Clayton asked me if I was thinking something.
"No... no," I replied "I'm sleeping with my eyes open."

And yet I savor this baby of mine in no particular hurry.  I know that middle-of-the-night
rendezvous of this nature are fleeting.

He fusses.  I turn him to his tummy and pat his back rhythmically.
The sound wakes my beloved and he offers help if I need it.
The offer is all I need this time - just the knowledge of his care - and I pick up my
now-quiet baby boy and hold him close in that soft light spilled on the floor.

There are lots of things I could think in a moment of nighttime solitude;
self-pity could be my theme, and yet...
yet I find myself surprised by what fills my consciousness.
Out of the darkness I hear my own voice say "This..."
This is exactly what I want to do with my life."
And I know it to be true.

Amazingly, there is always just enough supernatural strength to get through.
There is not always an abundance, or even as much as I would like there to be.
But there is always enough.

The Lord is exceedingly faithful to grant endurance through this season.
And because this situation (this number of children, this decision to educate at home,
this need to provide meals and direction, this lack of sleep) appears so impossible,
I can do only one thing:
Point to the Author of peace in my life, and the Giver of grace who sustains me.
He sustains, supports, and encourages.
In the darkness He whispers His delight of me.

I must believe Him, because ever so slowly I am learning to love what He loves.
And in an improbable turn of events, when my eyelids are heavy and my back burns and the
night seems never to end, I can't help feeling grateful.

As that tiny face looks up into mine and overrides all comfort and sanity
my heart cries this knowledge and my mouth agrees:
"This is exactly what I want to do with my life!"

Miles' Story ~ God's Marvelous Favor

I've tried to write this post several times, but have met with
little success or much pleasure.
It is a story of great peace.
Of waiting and not knowing and yet resting patiently in contentment.
It is a story of God's overflowing favor poured out on my life once again.

I find I can't relate just the facts without making this story about me.
In reality, there is so little of me in this story.  It is all Him.
Let's see if I can recount the birth story of Miles Favor reflecting
on God's great glory and His enduring mercy and grace!

My pregnancy was a gentle one.  I can't explain it better than that.
My body was large and cumbersome in the usual way ones body
makes sacrifice for another growing life, but my aches were minimal
and my emotions not violently swayed.

In many ways, I can honestly say this was the best pregnancy I've
experienced yet.  There may be physical factors involved, but I
know better than to turn those tangible efforts into a formula.
Above all, was the ever present breath of the Holy Spirit living through
me and the reason for all this blessing remains a mystery known only
to Him.

I've known such peace from the time we found out this baby was
on the way.  All the questions that begin with "how" which
are so quick to plague the mind of a mother in the middle of
child-bearing-training-raising years; those questions did not rattle me
as they sometimes have.
Then at 15 weeks I was sure we were losing this tiny person,
yet God stayed His hand and saw fit to let us meet our son.
Again - His favor.

Many of you know that we are somewhat transient, sharing time
between our mountain home in North Idaho, some travel,
as well as a little time near Denver Colorado where my husband's
work is based.  Because of this, finding doctors and such can be
a challenge, and few are eager to work with people so unconventional
as we.
The midwives who attended my care and were present at the birth
of Miles are a story of God's favor all their own.  I was blown away.

As the time for delivering grew near, I was getting nervous flutterings
in my stomach and the Lord provided Valentines Day with the perfect
reason to dive into the letter of First John (which is about love and
what love is, and how it manifests itself) where I rediscovered this verse:

1 John 4:18
"...perfect love casteth out fear... fear causeth torment..."

I was struck fresh by a couple truths I already knew:
I had no control over what events would transpire;
worrying about the unknown would only produce torment to myself;
perfect love is God Himself  (1 John 4:8)

and it would be by His power I could be free from fear!

I clung to this verse and meditated on it whenever thoughts of
impending travail came to mind.

Then, not a couple days prior to Miles birth, my eyes lit on a verse
in Psalms which blessed my heart so very much.

Psalm 34:4
"I sought the Lord, and He heard me, and delivered me from all my fears."

Wow.
It was King David's song, but when he penned it God knew it
would be my song too!
I rested in that verse and marveled over it.  That God hears me.
ME!  He heard and doesn't want His children to be in bondage to fear.
I was delivered of my fears.  It was so precious not to be bound up
with anxiety as my time drew near.

The day he came was a Sunday.

The laboring for his birth was unusual for what I've known
but it was soft and without pain until Transition which was a
fast and furious half hour.
My beloved husband caught our little person and I recognized
that we had delivered another son!
What joy and relief and flat-out marvel to see his complete
body, his large hands, his pudge!
What laughter and exclamation!

One of my favorite things in all the world is watching
pure joy just bubble forth from my best friend
as the relief of the finished race floods over him.
I can see then, it was work for him too and what camaraderie!
I often say (and this was no exception): "WE DID IT!"

I hope the Lord received all that celebrating as pure worship
because my heart was aching from sheer fullness, and hasn't ceased yet :-)

I can't describe the afterglow adequately.  My children came in to
meet our Miles.  I was tucked neatly into my own beautiful bed
under a quilt I'd made while dreaming of this baby; and my husband
rested his presence near to me as the midwives measured and weighed
my already-deemed-perfect little son.  I never thought to count his toes.
It never occurred to me that he could be anything but perfection
no matter what number they added up to!

After all had left and the house was still, AJ popped up some
Pop Corn and we sat side by side munching in a late-night
celebration party.  I didn't sleep that night.  There's no time
for sleeping when those first moments pass like a fleeing bandit
and freshly-birthed baby hair doesn't last - even for a few days.

So I was initiated into motherhood one more time, with a crick
in my neck from burying my nose in that hair at whatever
angle was necessary to reach it :-)
I lay awake recounting all the details of Miles Favor's story
marveling and alternating between tears and laughter.
It was a sweet night.

Favor upon favor...

So that is where Miles gets his name.  Favor has been the story of
our life together - mine and AJ's - and in this season more than ever.
We don't deserve this amazing grace, and are entitled to nothing
good at all - and yet.  Yet God's laughter spills over upon us as
He gives and gives and gives us good gifts just because He can
and apparently wants to.  imagine that!

Miles' middle name is an alter for a memorial for us that God has blessed
our family more than we ever hoped or could dream.  We will recall these
stories to His glory and for our edification when the season comes
which is dark and uncertain.
He is good today, but when that time comes we know He is still good.
He is always and forever good, and today His favor is great upon us.
May we not ever forget.

"Thank you Lord, for our precious son Miles Favor! 
To You Lord, be glory and honor and praise both now and forever. Amen."

Psalms 34:1
"I will bless the Lord at all times: His praise will continually be in my mouth."

Perfect Love

"Herein is love, not that we loved God

but that he loved us,

and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.

There is no fear in love

but perfect love casts out fear.....

We love him

because he first loved us."

1 John 4 verses 10, 18, and 19

He knows the stars by name...

That is a thought too grand for me to comprehend.

He knows the beautiful stars, he places them in their places and calls them by name - each one.
I love Him so.

Sometimes it seems my life was fashioned by God purely for the experiment of outpouring
His favor in large quantities and in new creative ways on one very low person... for what purpose?
I have no idea. I'm completely blank when it comes to the question, but it's a true truth that
I am the recipient of such amazing grace. 

Today I proclaim His mercies again.

To begin, I must announce the marvel of a new baby to arrive in March!  

Until recently, all has been boringly normal with this pregnancy.
Last night, through three isolated events over the course of several hours
I believed I was losing my baby.  Everything pointed to a miscarriage and I had only to
await the cramping.
I admit, I was a bit fearful.  At nearly 15 weeks gestation I'd never lost a baby so far along.
Last night was a restless time.
AJ was due to fly across country this morning (which he ended up proceeding with), and we've
been hosting dear friends from Oregon who are not due to leave for a few days yet.  I won't
record them by number, but I had not a few questions about the unknown future.

Last night I called two dear women, friends of mine experienced in pregnancy and delivering babies,
and each of them were available to talk with.  Both offering assurances of hope which I had not expected
to hear.
Then I emailed my local midwife whom I haven't talked to since my last baby was born.
She is only in office two days a week and today being one of them I wanted to see if she'd listen for
a tiny heartbeat.  This morning she promptly replied and scheduled in into her already packed day,
but by this morning I determined that an ultrasound was probably inevitable whether we heard a
heartbeat or not.
Feeling quite well this morning and full of hope since I wasn't continuing to bleed and hadn't
experienced any cramping, I saw my husband out the door to the airport and wondered how I was
going to cope through this day with 7 children and 5 guests.

The Lord knew.  And He provided what I needed each moment - namely peace for the unknown.

After I lay 5 children down for nap I checked email one more time before I too, intended to shut eye
for an hour or so.
There was a hurried note from my midwife saying she'd scheduled me for an ultrasound at the
hospital 1 hour from the time I read my email - just barely enough time to load my crew and drive
the 45 minutes to the hospital!  Wow. 
My visiting (and very precious) friend Sarah rode with me to sit with my children in the van, the rest
of her own family followed behind offering the support of their presence.  That so put my mind at ease
and strengthened my courage for the unforeseen ahead.

I could not believe the timing of each call, letter, appointment, person available, and event
which made up the course of this day.  I was told that the small-town ultrasound technician wouldn't
be available again until late in the week, and yet an appointment right now?  Wow again.

Even on the drive to the ultrasound appointment I couldn't help but know I had experienced the love
of God in orchestrating these details so carefully - no matter the outcome.  I felt cherished.

Skipping ahead to the good part, 
the amazing technology of ultrasound imaging showed to me 
the most beautiful and perfect baby I could have dreamed up!

And there was a tiny beating heart.

There was a small round head, and two little arms waving at me, two legs tucked up near a sweet
little tummy... all screaming "life life LIFE!"
There was nothing else to do but marvel and worship.  Without making this post more about me
than I intended, I need add I do not deserve this, didn't expect this, didn't earn this.
It's all a mysterious piece of that experiment - His favor poured out on me!
Thank you Lord.


And I rejoice.

Thanks for rejoicing together with me :-)

In the Abundace of Dirt...

The day started off with a flurry.

A phone call,
visitors expected,
only an hour to make a path through the toys/gear/shoes/papers/dirt/debris.

Beloved friends coming by make my day....... and send me into a tailspin.

As I whisk through the house setting things in order, I suddenly notice the dust
so thick I could write a message in it with my finger.  With all my fingers.
On both hands. At the same time.

And I knew there were cobwebs hanging there, but that many?  Jeeper's they're long!
Where are the spiders responsible for such engineering feats? 

When was the last time we cleaned the toilet, and how did I not notice the jam
sticking to the side of my counter.  Never mind the fingerprints covering every glass
surface and don't even bother about the mop-desperate floor... but
Why are there hairbands in that pile of dust in the corner?  Who will sweep that?
Fill that? Move that?  Put that away? ?  ?  ?

Worried-worried, furrowed brow, in my mind I am somewhere else.  Wondering what
part of my dusty life my friend will see.  Am I really worried that she'll see it? 
Or am I embarrassed that it's there?

I move quicker than a spinning top.  Brushing through every thing - every person - in my path.
Don't get in my way!

Stop.
Now's my chance!  Gather some perspective while there's still time and hold onto it!

I call my children into the room where I slow my pace, dusting the piano with more
deliberate motion than fervor.  I think before I open my mouth again, but when I do,
I hear my own voice speaking softly.

"Children,"  I say
"Children, Please forgive me for being in a hurry, for being grouchy, for being... bossy.

We have the pleasure of guests in a short while, and that is an honor.  I am thinking that
we want to enjoy them, and to bless them when they come into our home.
But you are them most important to me, and enjoying you is more important than making
things look just right for them.

No amount of surface-cleaning a stinky old grave can make it smell pretty.  
What's on the inside of our hearts, MY heart, is going to show through.  
I want to show a true picture.
If there are dust bunnies popping out from under the couch, that will be okay with me
because I want our home to be full of joyful fellowship between each of us!  
I refuse to behave poorly to you guys in order to impress someone else, so let's ask 
the Lord to prepare our hearts for enjoying each other and blessing our friends!"

Smiles and forgiveness, and a good lesson I learned before it was too late today.
A hard and humbling lesson. 

Hard because I want everything to look serene.

Humbling because my children know me. 
They know the truth - whether the truth is beautiful or not. 

Humbling because I have to throw my pride away and enjoy coffee in the shadow of cobwebs.

Good, because if the secret of our household is that grace and peace, truth, joyful hearts, and
glorious fellowship reside in the abundance of dirt...
we've got it.

Marvel

It was a lovely day. 

Normal, but lovely because sometimes I forget to appreciate how priceless
normal really is.

I drank tea with creamy coconut milk in it, tackled all the regular daily routine,
settled a few ridiculous disputes reminding - always reminding -  those silly kids
how much they love each other.  O' how I strove to utter sweet life-giving words,
to listen, to see with prudent eyes our heart conditions.
Sheepish grins, hugs, forgivenesses exchanged fellowship restored. 
That was the theme all day. Over and over. 
My accomplishment?
Surviving the moments with grace and modeling joy.  Hard tasks requiring purpose.

This evening I was all ramped up to blog.  A zillion thoughts rattle around in my head,
and I have almost that many photos to upload as well. 

Instead I peruse a couple other blogs and find my flame smothered by all the great
things other women are doing - feeding their families nothing but the finest organic,
detoxifying their homes of chemicals, cloth diapering, dressing with stylish feminity,
exercising their motherly bodies into slender health, giving their children music lessons,
ballet, soccer... creating artwork, renovating and redecoration their homes, sewing
beautiful clothes.

In fairness, I blog.  I know that what you see here is only a piece of the puzzle;
only a tiny glimpse of color on the canvas that is the larger picture - my life.
I am more complex than the few sporadic posts I enter. I have a lot of ideas
and I'm not afraid to blab on about them.  Many have been tortured so, and I have
chosen not to use this venue for that purpose.  Call me.  Join me for coffee; mine always
gets cold before I finish it, but the caffeine primes a pump of endless possibilities :-)

I am also every bit as simple as I look.  Maybe more so.
As much as I love all the wonderful, beautiful, lovely and noble things I see happening in
lives around me, and while I slowly strive to raise the bar in every venture I see value...
I am most passionate about what is eternal.
It's seeing the hand of God in my life.  His imprint  stirs my soul in a thousand ways most
people miss because they just forget to look. 
He loved me first; I can see it every day.   I love Him back.  That's enough.

I will not be sidetracked by what is good.  A good cause, endeavor, purpose...
I will keep my eyes fastened on the parts that meet me (that sometimes broadside me)
one moment at a time - interactions with my children, my beloved, my siblings,
my friends and strangers - and make it my life goal to glorify Him in those moments.

What you see here has been, and will continue to be a celebration of His love and mercy
toward me, and what you get when you enter this blog is a taste of the way I thank Him
in return.

Hence the photo I honed in on tonight which seems to express my sentiment best.
All I have to do is stand back a pace, look at my favorite people,
see His abundant love peering back at me through these bright eyes,
and I marvel.

You may have to dig a little...

This beautiful lake is balm for a weary heart.
Watching my very own sweet candy-colored children
play with their cousins in this lake makes a nearly-perfect evening every time!

My beloved reminds me that this tiredness and my feelings of defeat are
part of every new-baby-roller-coaster-ride we've embarked upon.
Sometimes it helps to have that balanced perspective which reassures me I'm not going crazy.
I suppose that at 2 months past the babymoon, interrupted sleep is catching up.

My sis Hannah provided a picnic for this outing, and Oh how I thank her
for doing all the dinner-thinking!  It gave my hands and brain a short reprieve.

Isn't Watermelon summer's Pop Corn?  It's almost a meal in itself when you just need
something quick to fill a number of bottomless pits, and the children think that  
eating Watermelon is a party all it's own.

Besides food for... for.... for a LOT of us, Hannah provided me with some precious fellowship as well.

She is at that 4-children-5-and-under season which by my recollection is more hairy than the one I'm in now.
She understands my hard days.
And I can relate to hers.

It was good to recall the frustrations of the day and discover they were
actually kind of funny in retrospect. 

Too bad I can't see forward to that more often when I'm in the moment.

We laughed about trying to bake bread in an oven with an unlit pilot.  It doesn't get too hot that way.
The bread doesn't really bake too well.

We laughed about cleaning out the girls sock drawers and finding... a Squirrels tail?
Oh yeah.  You can bet there was a good reason for keeping that in there!

She confided to me that when telling her husband she was struggling,
he asked "what's wrong?"
she stated simply: "everything."

"That's a lot of things to go wrong." he tenderly said.
and her answer to that was "I KNOW!"

Me too Hannah.  I know.

We watched boys fish.
We watched girls get as wet as we'd let them.
We watched babies and tried to keep the mosquitoes off them.

We chuckled at how silly all that turmoil seems after the fact.  But real nonetheless. 

The world comes down around your ears just as the baby needs to nurse.
It's something you can count on, but it still feels crushing when it occurs.

I really do understand.

It's good when that frenzied moment passes and we can look backwards on it with a grin.

"That wasn't so bad"  we can say now that we're through it.
And it's true. It wasn't so bad.

Most especially if I used self-control in the heat of the moment and didn't say or do
things to taint the fun of later story-telling.

And if there's a friend listening who can relate.

And if the stories can be told while both friends nurse hungry babies and bat at bugs.

And if we may watch our children do all the things that make childhood so spectacular!

In that case even the hard days should be remembered. 
They are somewhat softened in the retelling
so as to filter out the despair and illuminate the hilarious.

Some people call it denial.  I don't.  I call it choosing to worship.
Just look my way and you'll see a silhouette of a woman with both arms stretched out
pointing - waving wildly perhaps - towards Gods glory.
HE is faithful.  HE is long suffering.  And even on days that seem lost we can choose
to glorify Him.

We might have to dig a little; do some detective work and sleuth it out,
but it's worth it to find these sparkling snippets of joy!

Linking up with another treasure hunter...