Introducing Hope

 This girl deserves her very own blog post! By far, she is my favorite girl in all of the world! I must say, she was the hardest to name! But I still recall how right it felt, the night, two weeks before her birth, that Ryan presented, "How about the name Hope? "
 So how about the name Hope? At the time of her birth, I found a definition of hope that meant to 'wait expectantly with anticipation'. Again, just as with the other boys we did not and could not fully understand why this name may have been so significant. And so then she was born. And we took Hope home on Christmas Eve day. Do you remember how in Luke 2, Mary " pondered all of these ghings in her heart"? Jesus was born as a hope for our worn, weary world. Hope was born to this worn and wearied woman who chased after two tireless toddlers at the time!  She truly was a breath of fresh air to me. Her saucer -like blue eyes would gaze up at me in the dark of the night. Peace would saturate my soul like the dawning of a new day. And there she grew, bewildering the hearts of two young boys. They appeared to be enamored by this she-thing dressed in pink!
Together, Ryan and I moved our three kids to Parkersburg shortly after her arrival. Then when hope reached the age of five months, a tornado touched down and wreaked havoc in our town and lives.  What happened then is forever imprinted on my heart. Ashes to beauty, says Isaiah. My little girl, new to town,  went everywhere I went. We traipsed through broken down houses and hearts, but upon meeting us for the first time and hearing, "her name is Hope,", before my eyes I visibly saw despair empty itself. Hope restored what was lost in brick and stick and soul.  Never will I forget the faces that brought my family hope or how Hope, my daughter, did the same for so many other tattered individials displaced, just by speaking her name.
 But that's not the only reason her name is so suitable. She is no longer that wide-eyed baby girl. Almost 9 years have passed since that May Day imprinted in my yesterdays. Hopesy Daisy, big sister to two more boys, still is our Hope, smack dab in the middle of our full life!  She is my giggly girl, my girl. My one and only, one of a kind hope. The only one who is daring enough to spend three hours in Once Upon A Child with me,  she brings me a reprieve from testosterone! Hope is full of emotion,  and one tough cookie! You will not see her sitting on the sidelines when her brothers go out to play football in the backyard. With all that boyness that surrounds her, how did she become so thoughtful, so loving, so selfless?  Her and I have some of the best talks. She's the first one I did a gratitude journal with, and there isn't a day that goes by that I'm not thankful for her. She is a soul-searching, sweetheart of a girl, loved by her daddy. He calls her Fancy Face and sways to the song "Cinderella" (Steven Curtis Chapman)with her every year on her birthday. Those four boys won't readily admit it but, aside from lovin' their mama, she holds a big place in their hearts as well!  So Hope, my daughter, and that expectant anticipation of what is to come, is truly what keeps us all going! Hope does not disappoint. No matter what becomes of that girl, I deeply believe she will never stray too far from the heart of God! It is in Him, and in His Hands, I place my Hope!

I want to make it OK

I want to make it OK. Take a seat here at the window of my soul. Make yourself at home. I want you to feel welcome and warm and loved here. Because you are. Don't just look in, but enter in.There is no room for window shoppers or passerbys!When you look in this window, I want you to see, hear and know real.
I am not going to promise you'll be comfortable here, although I hope you might. Just stay here with me for a while.  I will say it again, I want to make it OK. Years ago I learned that I have a restorative personality. I look at things and either want to make them OK or improve what is already there. so today is no different from most days. My sister called last week and work is hard and I want to make it OK.  My dad is going to the cardiologist and I want to make his heart OK. My friend just had surgery and I want to make her OK. I meet with these gals who are growing to love Jesus and I want it all to be OK for them.  Lord has taught me how to love and how to give my heart away. And with that I am more than OK. But when I cry out to God with my very own longings, my personal desires, and he speaks forth His word, piercing me with "Be still and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10) I  question am I really OK with that?
So we wrestle, like my boys wrestle their dad... they can't beat him. He is still bigger. He is still better. God and I, we go back and forth. I do not deny his sovereignty nor his Lordship. But when it comes right down to it do I trust him with my longings? Do I dare to put myself in that place of vulnerability and say, "Thy will be done"? Disappointments have come my way,  but not one of them has God not redeemed. This longing He has given me. I have asked him to take it away, if it is not from Him.  And it has remained. And so do I. Faithfulness. But even when I am unfaithful, He remains. He knows. He sees.  His word pierces me, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him who have been called according to his purpose." I can't see. I can't know right now.  And isn't that faith? Faith is believing in what we cannot see and being sure of what we hope for. Hebrews 11:1. He will redeem it. How about your longings? Have you laid them out as an offering? Have you put them at his feet? Have you trusted him with all of your heart, not leaning on your own understanding, acknowledging him with this longing, knowing that he will make it work for your good? Proverbs 3:5,6.
Maybe one day my boys could outmatch their dad. Genetics say this is possible.  Or maybe Ryan might let them win. Odds are, in the end, they will both end up winning. I hope they all can stand tall, agreeing, it was a grueling match, but good. Psalm 62, "My soul finds rest in God alone… He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken… My hope comes from him."
"I will make it OK," promises God. So now I rest.

Happy

It seems fitting that this morning I read about the first mention of the name Asher in the Bible. Asher means happy. Our youngest took on that name at his birth and it has been true of his life thus far! Yesterday we conversed about his naptime, or lack there of. And this is what my littlest man had to say, " mother, I do not take naps, I do not take rests. But I do take kisses!"  Who can argue with that? Isn't that just pure, sound reasoning? How could this be? This son of mine, the one I named, has lived out his name so definitely?  I am blessed! It is through great humility that I also see how God named my other children. There are the two oldest. The ones whose feet now fill my boots.   We discovered this by default, because in this household often times things are lost and so we find replacements! So Caleb is my first born, and 18 days he will enter a new phase of his life,  inching into manhood before I am ready. But what I see is unmistakable manliness.  I swallow hard, with every sign of maturity. It's what we all hope for, and when it comes there is letting go even when you want to hold on. Always my responsible one, he is brave and courageous, his name written on his heart. So things will change. But, just as it is said about him in the Bible, I pray he will hold onto the convictions of his heart no matter what he faces in his God-ordained days. Defending his faith and putting me to shame with all of historical and sporty knowledge is what he lives for!  The apple did not fall far from the tree  with this one.  Caleb is the mini me of his father. Quietly passionate but by far the fiercest hugger I know! The last thing Papa Kenny said to him before he passed away was, " keep playing that trumpet Caleb!"  I wonder, when I hear that trumpet sound vibrating from his lips, if he isn't spurred on by that exhortation echoing in his heart. Will one day my son sound a trumpet before His King with a saintly familiar face smiling on?
Micah means "unto the Lord". He is our protective, second child. The prophet Micah delivered the message that we are to "seek justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God".  Do you know what it is like to watch scripture unfold before your eyes? I swear to you now that this boy who wraps his arms around me and randomly gives me love taps , whose coat I pull on because of His now manly girth, charismatically draws the attention of those around him. Remember the root word there is "charis". Meaning good-will, loving kindness.  Humble and compassionate, Micah, is determined to be the next Bear Grills, survivalist, and has built his own "fort" with the help of his siblings and companions nearby the creek that is at the descent of our backyard. He's everything outdoors, breathing in the air that brings him life just like he inhales God's life-giving words, believing in his heart that man does not live by bread alone. What will become of these boys to men?

Radiance

 I sit here now, the quiet of the morning well past.  The two littles are racing after a toy, but I can't bring myself to even move. The radiance of the sun is penetrating not just my flesh but my very being. I'm paralyzed by the warmth as my soul sings to its Creator. I can't bare to open my eyes.   Why would I want to, when I can bask in all of His glory. I think to myself is this what it will be like to be face-to-face with Him? Is this what my soul has longed for for some four decades? It is often been the cry of my heart that I might seek his face. Who am I, that he is mindful of me?  Why would he allow me to lift my eyes to gaze upon his Beauty? He envelopes me with his warm embrace,  and his love drowns out the anxieties of life. He takes upon himself my sin and my shame. Yesterday's and Today's. And in their place, I find joy and peace.Here, in this place, I hear him pleaing for me, just as he did for the sinners who nailed Him on the cross, and those whose bodies hung next His own. This I remembered as I read before the light shown bright this morning..."forgive them father for they know not what they do."  I am bent, broken and disturbed, that my Father could love me so much. Me. You. And everyone else who is aware and unaware of His Goodness and Mercy.  I pray that this humility would continue to bring me low even when that radiance disappears in the clouds.  That I somehow could contain this measure of enlightenment as I abide in His Presence. I am grateful.