Author: amylynw

A Sprinkling of Fear

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They were afraid, but they were filled with joy. When I read that this morning, it seemed to describe the story of my life.  After Jesus had died and was buried, the women were on their way to his tomb.  When they came to the tomb and discovered an angel sitting on top of the heavy stone they were worried about trying to move, this was how they are described: afraid, but filled with joy.

Every day I fight fear.  Fear that things will happen.  Fear that things won’t happen.  Fear of what other people think of me.  Fear of what I think about myself.  Fear debilitates us to action.  When we know God wants us to go or do or say, fear will  stop us in our tracks, tie our hands behind our backs, and silence us like a gag.

I know people who are afraid to lose weight.  The fear of losing who they are comfortable being, in exchange for discipline and commitment to a new lifestyle, keeps them locked in a cycle of bad habits.  I know people who are afraid of moving on.  They are consumed by their past, and their fear keeps them from seeing what is around the corner.  I know people who are afraid of change.  They’re afraid of what it might mean and will never experience what it can do.  I know people who are afraid of letting go.  They’re afraid of losing the grip that they hold so securely, whether it’s a grudge or something that’s been done wrongly to them.  They’re afraid, and will never experience the freedom of having their grip loosened, only to have their grasp filled with forgiveness and peace.  I know people who are afraid of trying something new. They’re afraid, because they might discover they’re actually good at something they were never told they were good at doing.  Or maybe they’re afraid of failing, so they never try.  I know it, because I’ve been in each of these situations.

I don’t want my life to be characterized by fear, though it is something I constantly battle.  Instead of being filled with fear, with little sprinkles of joy, I would much rather be afraid and filled with joy.  Joy is the filling aspect, and fear is just a seasoning.  It doesn’t debilitate, but rather keeps my heart in tune with Jesus, who has conquered fear.

Before and After Projects

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This week was definitely the busiest week of our summer.  Nadine was at camp, and we decided to tackle the project of painting the girls’ room to surprise her when she got back.  On top of that,  with school approaching very quickly, it has become vital to have a working, organized school space.  Last year that was lacking, and the inability to find scissors, tape, paper, etc. became increasingly annoying and burdensome.  In addition, the mess build-up was constant and growing.  When no one, including mommy, knows where something goes, it inadvertently gets stuck on… the table.  Or some random shelf. Or gets lost in the abyss of unknown, only to show up when it’s not needed anymore.  Enter: my amazing carpenter husband, whom I hired not only for his skill, but also for his handsome physique.  Below is the before and after photos of my “school space” in our dining room.  The finished shelves have seven more shelves to be added.  Matthew needs a special tool to drill the holes for the removable shelves, and since he lent that tool to someone, we have to wait to get it back until it’s entirely finished.  But, at least my table is cleared, and to think that there is even more space to be had, makes me just giddy.

The simultaneous project going on this week was painting the attic.  It was time to cover the patched, heavily foot-printed and hand-printed yellow walls with some fresh paint.  I scanned our basement shelves and opened what I thought was white paint (and remains a mystery as to what color it actually is) to find a greyish blue.  It brightens the room considerably, without making it glow.  My handsome carpenter also hung a wire so I could attach some lace curtains to separate the playing side from the sleeping side.

We will be moving Betty up to the attic soon, so Matthew set up the crib in anticipation of that.  Her room will become our office and sewing room.  For now though, we’ve had enough for one week!  We’ll prepare and adjust to this next transition all in good time.

Have a happy day!

I Almost Stank

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Cleaning at night when everyone is sleeping, is so rewarding.   I have greatly neglected many nooks and crannies in exchange for gardening, swimming,visiting, painting, and the like.  I’ve done a hurried swipe of the counter, or an every-other-day sweep of the floor (that, let me tell you is triple, not double, the amount of dirt if done every day).  Laundry is my sweet spot in house-cleaning, and even when things are busy, I always make time to do laundry.  Except for this week.  Between driving Nadine to girls’ camp, and deciding to tackle the huge job of painting her room while she’s gone… even laundry has gone out the window.   The last load I did has been on the clothesline for two days.  Tonight I decided to go outside and fetch it off the line before the rain came again.  I was a few steps outside when I saw a movement in the dark.  I stomped as loudly as I could over to the sensor light until it flipped on.  I thought I would be looking at a cat.  However, I was staring at the backside of a skunk, its tail starting to raise.  Now, I’ve read enough Curious George to know that if you see that, you run fast.  I booked it into the house and slammed the door.  The clothes could use another rinse in the rain tonight, anyway.

The Miracle at the Pool

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Yesterday we spent the day with our cousins at a friend’s pool.  It was better than candy.  Betty got into the squirt guns, Elsie is getting more brave and going under the water, and there was much tandem jumping.

Then, after diving into the pool, Elijah came up out of the water with an odd look on his face.  He quickly swam to the edge and kept exclaiming over and over about something, so I went to him and found something extraordinary.  His goggles had shattered in the water, and he came up with only a small scratch on his forehead.  The older kids were fishing minuscule shards of glass, or whatever they were made out of, from off the bottom of the pool for over an hour.  Their fingers were getting cut, confirming how sharp they were.  Yet Elijah’s precious eyes were kept safe.  I am in awe even now and praise God for His mercies.

The past few mornings we’ve been woken up by bulldozers and jack hammers doing some sort of work on our street.  It’s super loud, and when the road is opened again at the end of the end of the day, there is nothing like parallel parking with a bulldozer.

Our schoolbooks have arrived and they’re being contained in their boxes until Matthew finishes building our school shelves.  It’s been such a long time since he made custom shelves, and now Elijah is old enough to be a real help.  His hands are also only about a half a centimeter from being the same size as mine.  We measured today.  I will be posting before and after pictures of our schoolroom area once it’s complete.

 

This past week has been full of miracles!  It was an honor to be the doula for an amazing girl and to experience my first home birth.  It was beautiful.  Every time I experience another birth I am more solidly grounded in my desire and love to help women in labor.  I am deep into my homework towards keeping my certification up to date, and have been spending many late nights reading, writing, and studying.  Being there for the birth gave me just the perfect boost to keep on going!

 

We also went to a birthday party last week for my cousin’s baby.  It was fun!  I loved it when Matt’s brother, Jacob, came back from his boy scout camping trip and the little girls were all in awe of him.  Betty’s face is priceless.  She loves her Uncle Jake!

 

 

The girls all having matching dresses that Grandma made them.  I have yet to get a picture of all three of them together, but here is Betty with each of them!

With the noise of bulldozers in the background, it’s time to get started on my day!

Seventy-Four Miles

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Today was seeped in tears and thick emotion.  A let down, I suppose, of the hefty weekend.  My tears were last night.  The kids’ were today.

I really, really hope that people realize that when I admit to feeling sad, frustrated, disappointed, etc. (normal human emotions) this does not equate that I hate my life, my circumstances, nor wish things upon myself that can not be.  I truly love my life.  But I am not always happy, cheerful, well-groomed (stop by today and you’ll see!), nor eager.  This weekend tested my every last bit of endurance.  As I hugged Matthew last night, though, I was sincere as I whispered, “I would do it again tomorrow if I could.”  I love and support my husband and we’re a team.

The race started with an ok sleep the night before (not good, when you’re anticipating being up for the next 24 hours).  The morning unfolded with a leisurely cup of hot tea and yummy breakfast outside Lloyd Hall on Boathouse Row in Philadelphia.  The rain was coming down since 4am, which added an aspect of dreariness and well, dampness..  We really didn’t prepare for rain.  But, at 10AM the shout was given, and the 24-hour race commenced.

Matthew looked good for the first 16 miles before hitting an unexpected early wall.  It took another 16+ miles of climbing to get over it, and finally by the afternoon he was feeling much better.  The rain stopped.  Things looked sunny.  After puddle-running for most of the day, his feet were complete prunes, so he switched shoes and clothes and then kept going.

Around 1AM things got worse when I offered to run with him and couldn’t keep up.  We’ve hashed through this now, so I can write about it.  I truly thought he needed someone with him,  and he didn’t know how to gently say that I would hold him back.  So I ran the 8th loop.  Sort of.  Actually, I had not run 8 miles since his race last year.  It messed with his concentration, as he felt the need to take care of the one who was supposed to be taking care of him.  On the next, the ninth loop, things went from bad to worse.  Two miles from the finish line a biker patrol found him sitting down, and since he was a bit slow to respond, called in to the medics who called in to me.  We met at the medical tent where he was fine, just exhausted.  By the time he had checked out fine with the doc, his mental game was toast and his body just started to shut down.  It’s amazing how far your body can push when your mind is still telling it that it’s fine to keep going.  Once that voice clicks off, the body literally stops.  It believes the words, “I can’t,” unless they’re not uttered.

So, around 4AM, he had run 74 miles and was finished.  It is mind-blowing, really.  I drove 74 miles last week.  The disappointment came from not finishing 100+miles, and stopping before 24-hours.  It was a hard hit for both of us.  I am so proud of him.  We could have let a root of bitterness build up between us.  I could blame myself and so could he, but we both chose to move on, learn, and grow from this experience.  He inspires me and so many others with his determination, drive, and seemingly crazy goals.  I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Today in Fast Motion

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Today I gave a start when I looked in the mirror.  It was time to rush out to the dentist for a last-minute appointment for the older two kids.  Matthew was covered in white dust from scraping the grout off our shower walls all afternoon.  Betty had been crying most of the day, for no apparent reason.  Every kid was slicked in sweat from our lack of air-conditioning.  I did some strange up-do with what I had on hand, but my failed hair-cut has given me some grief.  No chance of the much-needed shower since the bathroom was out of commission.  I tried not to look in the mirror before rushing out the door.  The solace of air-conditioning at the dentist office helped soothe the gravely nerves produced on this hot, claustrophobic day.  Back home we came, to a supper of wheat thins, cheese, and no-bakes.  I am not always culinary.  Back out we went for a last-minute invite to VBS.  This has been the highlight of my day.  Quiet.  Knowing my kids are cool and having fun.  Betty happily waved “night night” to me as she collapsed into bed.  Did I mention that it’s quiet?

Another highlight was the blessing of being able to order all the kids’ schoolbooks for this school year.  We have never ever done this before.  Always dribs and drabs.  This year, all in one shebang.  I can hardly wait!

My body is sticky with sweat.  My hair is a-maz-ing.  I am in awe of a beautiful and ginormous bouquet of flowers from a friend, that are sharing the table with me.  Most of the house is messy.  That’s ok, though.  Some days Mary Poppins just doesn’t show up.

Beach Memories and a Little Lesson in French

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Today we drove into Philly to pick up Matthew’s race packet.  Twenty-seven is my new favorite number, for my favorite guy who will be sporting bib number 27 for 24 hours.  My butterflies are still in full flight, but he’s calm as a cucumber, reading on the couch across from me.  The two little girls are at Grandpa & Grandma’s, and the older three are here with us at the Weldon’s.

I finally went through my fourth of July pictures when we were at the shore.  There weren’t very many to choose from, since we were sick and my camera spent a lot of time in its bag.  But these are my favorites:

I had so much fun clicking pictures of my little sneaker-stomper this week.  Betty proudly walks around and our latest game has been to practice saying words together.  Her favorite is when I say, “Diaper,” the way she says it.  She laughs a belly laugh then mimics “diapur!”  Try to imagine saying diaper with a French accent.  Betty has the perfect French accent.  “One, twooo,” with the sweetest French “U” sound.  If you are wondering what I mean, try these six steps to make a perfect French “u” sound:

  • Open your mouth.
  • Say O.
  • Draw out the O until your lips are where they would be to make a W sound.
  • Purse your lips as tightly as you can.
  • Keeping your lips pursed, say E.
  • Voilà the French U!

Ma petite fille douce!

Stay tuned for post-race news next week!  Thanks so much for praying for us!

Yellow Boots

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The garden has been my sweet spot to be the past few weeks.  I have abandoned my blog for flowers, dirt, and these awesome yellow boots my sister-in-law Heidi got for me at the thrift store.

Along each fence were vines, weeds, and strange unknown plants.  After pulling, weeding, planting, mulching and much watering, the garden has come alive.

With so much technology, I often think that somehow I can record the smell of these amazing lilies.  Bottle it up somehow.  I stop and smell them every time I walk past them, and I wish they stayed all year long.

We have purple and yellow beans, and so far four cherry tomatoes from our garden.  Elijah promptly named our first tomato “Bobby”.  It was yummy.

A lot more than gardening has taken up my time as well.  Kids, preparing for Matt’s race this weekend, lots of dream-hashing and seeking God about the next steps for our family.  We were encouraged when we read this reminder:  The Bible says that God’s Word is a lamp to our feet (Psalm 119:105), not a floodlight beaming to our destination.  (Steven Furtick)  So, we take one step at a time, excited, because He is completely trustworthy.

Here At The Laundromat

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Our shore trip has been a little unusual this time around.  There’s nothing quite like meeting up with your supper in the middle of the night, on the bathroom floor.  After a rough night, yesterday found me lying on the futon in the living room for the entire day.  After Elsie had a similar experience as mine, last night, it was necessary to make a trip to the laundromat.  Here I sit, enjoying a free hot spot for wifi, and listening to the sound of an over-sized dryer about to take off.

It was fun to hear what was going on yesterday, even if I wasn’t fully engaged in what was happening around me.  The boys rode their bikes to 711 all by themselves and bought a donut for themselves and a pack of gum for me.  Their faces were so proud when they came back, fully realizing the big responsibility they had been given.  Elsie would occasionally hop on the bed next to me and rub my back or play with my hair.  Nadine checked to see how I was feeling, and always looked for the slightest bright spot in my face.  Sweet Betty toddled around, her steps being much more confident now, and she grinned as she passed my way.  It was a strange day, but I feel so blessed to have such a wonderful family all around me.

Now my laundry is done and I’m excited to go back to the shore house.  Yahtzee, Phase 10, laughter, and ice-tea awaits.  Happy Fourth of July!

Multiplication Is His Specialty

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This morning when I  was reading in Matthew 15, I read this interaction between Jesus and His disciples.  Jesus feels deep concern for the multitudes of people about to walk home on empty stomachs.  He knows their need, and He looks at his disciples as if to say, “Did you learn what I can do when I fed the 5000 people a few weeks ago?”  You would think that their reply to His unspoken question would be, “We know!  YOU can give them what they need!  You are completely able.  We saw it, we believe it!”  Instead, they say, “There is nothing here.  Where could we get enough bread to feed this large crowd?”  Wow.  I have been there, said that.  It seems so silly when I’m sitting on my front porch, sipping some tea with yummy toast, knowing what is about to happen in the story.  You empty-heads… um, Jesus is standing there with you.  Don’t you remember how He fed 5000 people with five loaves and two fish?  Yet, I have often given the same excuse when a need presents itself.  I have nothing that could be of use here, Lord.  I don’t have the means to help that person.  I have nothing here!  Jesus then simply says, “How many loaves do you have?”  The excuse was: there is nothing.  Turns out there was something.  Something very small in comparison to the need.  There were seven loaves and a few small fish.  Jesus makes everyone sit down, and He gives thanks for this little something, and you know what happens?  There is enough, with seven baskets full of leftovers!  About the next day, this issue of bread comes up again.  The disciples forgot to bring bread with them and when Jesus starts using yeast as an example about what to look out for (bad doctrine, sin that grows and infiltrates everywhere) the disciples are worried that He’s chiding them for not bringing any bread on their trip.  He replies, “Your faith is so small!  Why are you talking to each other about having no bread?  Don’t you understand?  Don’t you remember?”  And He reminds them of the miraculous multiplication of bread not once, but twice!  When we talk about things we don’t have, it evokes more worry.  We might not have what seems important.  We might not even have what is important.  Sometimes the need is truly pertinent.  Whatever our circumstance, we do have Jesus with us in the boat.  Ready to provide.  Able to provide.  He is the same God who multiplied what was available into what was needed.  Give Him everything, and see what He does!