“Mom!  Lerk!”  Those are words I will always cherish.  Elsie still adds a stray “r” sound to the word “look” that is so endearing.  Tonight as we drove home from doing some errands, it was sunset.  The sky was turning pink and Elsie seemed to notice for the first time ever that the sky, which is either blue or black, can actually become her favorite color.  “Mom!  Lerk!  It’s so pink!”  I told her that God did that.  “Elsie, God painted the sky pink tonight just for you!  Do you like it?”  “Jesus?  God painted the sky?”  She nodded that she liked it.  “It’s so pink.”

Thanks, God, for making the sky tonight… so… pink.

Recently I’ve been struck with the conviction of doing things in the NOW.  So, since google hasn’t figured out how to transcribe thoughts into writing, it’s on to the real deal.

Last weekend… how did that fly away so quickly?

Our van, now familiar with the trek, was loaded down with two adults, five kids, paraphernalia and clothing for said kids and adults, bikes, roof-top carrier, two tents, blankets, pillows, towels and snacks. We made it down to the shore house. The icon of summer fun. The shoe-box that still has room for more memories. This time we shared our weekend with Matt’s family and their good friends visiting them right now; friends that were Matt’s parents’ neighbors when they first got married.

The second night there, we woke up to some innocent drippings from the dark sky outside our tent. Elsie and Elijah woke up feeling wet, but we brushed it aside and told them to tough it out. Ha. Five minutes later the heavens opened and our tent became like a sieve, letting in torrents of water. I scooped Betty out of her pack n’ play, told everyone to RUN to the house, and we all sought shelter in the teeny tiny living room. By that time there was thunder and lightning, which brought the occupants of the other tent into the living room as well. So, our morning was started rather early that day. Once the rain cleared, we were able to sop up the puddles in our tent, and I took all of our clothes and sheets and some blankets to the laundromat to get washed and dried. After stuffing them into two “double capacity” washers, I learned there are “mega” and “ultra” capacities that could have handled them all. Oh, well!

On Independence Day, my sister and her family joined in on the fun, and we all went to the beach. It was the perfect beach day, and all the kids played in the water for hours. We went back to the shore house to get cleaned up. With 21 people and one bathroom, the outside shower was a hit! Then we all piled back into our cars and headed to the boardwalk for pizza and the fireworks. It was a blast (haha) and the cutest part was that Betty slept through all the blasts and bangs and bright lights.

Tuesday morning we held our annual talent show. If laughter is the best medicine, then we were well medicated! The crown of the show was when Jon & Elijah came driving around the house in Capri’s car, with the subwoofer booming. Out they came, and as they tossed off their hats, I saw why they had asked for the hair-clippers: mohawks, 80’s style, accentuated their crazy look. Then they started to jam, and we rolled with laughter. It was a great show.

What a blast.

I never knew that bubbles could be such a beautiful form of art.  When Nadine gets a bowl of soap and a wand in her hands, she can blow bubbles like no one’s business.  That girl can make it look like the finest ballroom dance:

           

Elijah is more like a comedian.  Bubbles are beautiful, but they can be fun!

 And if you ever wondered what Matthew looked like as a little boy… this is pretty much exactly what he looked like.  Crazy when a certain shot makes time rewind.

     

We celebrated Jon’s birthday.  Jack enjoyed having some first licks…

     

Then everyone got in on the fork-less action!  It’s a sharing family!

     

The fun of Monday night just whetted our appetites for good things to come.  We’re looking forward to a weekend away at the shore house.  My camera card is empty, the batteries are full.  The future is an blank canvas waiting to be filled up with memories and I can hardly wait.  It’s going to be grand!

 

It wasn’t always like this.  My crazy, wonderful husband running as many miles as some people don’t even like to drive.  People don’t often get it, and that’s okay.  Sometimes I don’t get it when people want to golf 18-holes, or eat hot sauce on their french fries.  We’re all different, and that’s the beauty of us.  Six years ago we were recalling a certain event that he did where he had to run 3 miles.  That boy struggled through those miles, let me tell you!  It’s hard to imagine, but he was also one of those that would somewhat sniff at the idea of running.  Why would you do that sort of thing when there are bikes to ride, roller-blades to don, or a vehicle at your disposal?  Then, something happened.  He explains it as a realization that he was just sick and tired of telling himself “one day”.  One day I’ll get in shape.  One day I’ll run a marathon.  One day, one day, one day… So he started.

As he ran more, he adopted the “new” but old as time technique of barefoot running.  He doesn’t actually go barefoot, but he just wears an old pair of beat up sneakers that he sawed off the back of the heels with his electric saw.  Those sneaks saw a lot of pavement this weekend!  He’s been training for a lone-ranger ultra-marathon.  That just means that it’s a loner-type of race, run alongside a few hundred people.  Everyone is doing their own thing, alone in a mass of people, but all having an individual goal.  His goal: to run 100 miles in 24 hours.  The idea morphed as he ran, and it solidified this year before he went to Haiti.  Why not use this run as an attention-getter for the needs in Haiti?  So, although many personal things have been accomplished through the training and ultimately the race, his goal is to raise $10,000 for the people of Haiti, channeled through cpr-3 ministries.

On Friday, after work and after driving two hours to drop off his truck to get some mechanical work done to it, he set out on a 30-mile run through the night.  I collapsed into sleep after midnight then woke with a start about five minutes before he arrived home at 5:30am.  The worst part about his run: losing his debit card and drivers’ license somewhere between gas station one and two… a 10-mile stretch of road.  That was a tough pill to swallow.  He did it though, even getting chased by a dog and running through some dark creepy woods in the middle of nowhere.  After about an hour of sleep and a nice big breakfast (or two) he set off again for run #2.  Seventeen miles to backtrack his steps to see if he could find the lost cards.  When he texted me a photo a few hours later, without looking, I just knew it was a picture of the cards.  Sure enough, along the side of the road, in the grass, near a ditch, on some ten-mile stretch lay both his license and debit card right next to eachother.  God is SO big to care about tiny things like that.  What a caring, miraculous God we have.  We still have no idea how those popped out of his pouch, but I know that by doing so, our faith has been strengthened.  Lost things found are SO important to Him.  And to think I am one of those lost things, found by God and belonging to Him forever.

The kids and I piled into the van to pick him up at mile 17.  He was tired.  Duh!  We drove home and he did his usual routine: shower, fresh clothes, pretend like it’s a new day.  This time our great friend Patrick met him here and ran the last 13 miles with him.  What a difference!  Drawing from reserves unknown and the strength of a big God and an encouraging friend, he did it!  We, along with Patrick’s family, met them at a park with tons of food and drinks.  60 miles total.  I’m so proud of him!

Our next challenge has been to keep that man fed!  About ten minutes after three eggs, sausage, vegetables, and pancakes… he’s hungry.  Last night in bed he couldn’t stop fidgeting and I made him get up to eat one more time and he downed chicken and dumplings, two pieces of toast, and a bowl of cereal.  This morning: repeat.

So, we’re pretty stoked about the race.  He’s going to take it really light until the 16th, and we’re praying for good weather and good health.  He’s an inspiration to me!  And I’ll be the first one to admit I think he’s nuts.  But I love him.  Let’s encourage one another, whether it be running for 24 hours or hitting a golf ball into the 18th hole  Doing all for the glory of God!

Just to be honest, I’ve had some struggles with two of my girls… all except the one incapable of talking back or stomping their feet (a trait, I’m told, is on to its 4th generation of women, myself being the 3rd generation.)  Please don’t get me wrong.  Struggling with and loving them like crazy can still go hand-in-hand.  As I speak, my little e has her hand fist deep in the nutella jar, licking out every last morsel of chocolately goodness.  Only pure love would let a three-year old do that before 9AM.  She looks like a little puppy who’s been given a bone and is silently and contentedly licking it in a corner, relishing every taste before the possibility of it being taken away by anyone occurs.

But, I wouldn’t be human or a mother to say my girls and I clash sometimes.  Ok, daily.  It’s crazy that I remember being their ages.  They say and do things that are uncannily like how I would have said or done things at the age of 3 or 8.  For instance, last night my mom was recalling a time when we were flying home for furlough from Africa.  I was digging around under my seat and pulled out a woman’s wig and held it up and said, “What’s THIS?!”  My mom hissed for me to “Put it back!”  Matthew burst out laughing and said, “That sounds just like Elsie!”  I’m sure too, that I enjoyed (who am I kidding, let’s keep this real… STILL enjoy) licking out a nutella jar.

My girls are both sporty and beautiful.  Nadine just finished her soccer season.  I was so thrilled that I was able to go to her last game, where they won 4-2, making it a perfect season with no losses.  She was goalie for the last half and had the entire parents’ section cheering after her especially amazing save near the end of the game, catching the ball above her head.  She loves soccer and was a joy to watch.

     

She is also a stellar checkers player and can sport “Pretty Pretty Princess” with finesse.

     

I know that we clash sometimes… sort of like those plaid shorts and flowery shirt she was wearing the other day.  But we also have some precious times together, like when we had an entire hour and a half ALONE, sipping tea at the table, and talking about girl stuff like boys and marriage.  Hard to believe that she’s such a young lady.

Then there is my little e with the not-so-little personality.  She has the strength and gumption to change the world.  We prayed for her even before she was born, that she would have the courage to go places where not many others would be willing or courageous enough to go.  I continue to pray that she will submit her life, her everything, to Jesus.

     

     

She loves to swing.  When I think of Elsie I think of swings.  Tree swings.  Mood swings.  Yes, that is my Elsie.

 

 

She’s happy, she’s sad, and she’s everything in-between.  Her newest faces of determination and frustration are especially fun to watch!  Love that girl!

Last night the angels had a party.

Matthew took the boys and Elsie to a fun summer festival yesterday at a local church. They played and had fun, and were anticipating watching a movie when they got home. However,  it was too late when they got home so the plan changed. There were a little bit of attitude adjustments needed, so Matthew talked about thankfulness with them. We sing a song every night called “Ten Men”, which talks about the ten men whom Jesus healed, and how only one man came back to say, “Thank you”.  He asked the boys each individually which kind of men they were.  Jack said he was a selfish person. “Do you want to be a selfish person?” Matt asked.  He said, “No. Satan keeps making me make bad choices. That’s what Elijah told me.” Matt said, “Jesus wants to protect your heart and help you make good choices. The first thing you need to do is ask Him to come live in your heart and wash away your sin. Would you like to do that?” Jack said he would.  “You can tell Jesus that right now, and pray to Him.” Of course Elsie was crying in her bed and so Jack said, “She needs to be quiet first.” So they went downstairs to pray. There Jack asked God to come live in His heart forever.

This morning he confidently told me all about it and he grinned when I told him that the angels had a party in Heaven because he became a Christian. Then Elsie mimicked the cheer I had going by saying: “Jack’s a part of the family, Jack’s a part of the family!” There is no greater joy.  What a happy Father’s Day!

One-hundred-twenty-seven-thousand-one-hundred-and-fifty-four miles.  When we bought our van six years ago, it had 74,000 miles on it.  We promptly drove it across the country to California, then back again eight months later.  It has seen the birth of three kids, many u-turns, beautiful roadtrips, and at least one or two sets of new tires.  It has experienced extreme gas spikes, survived blizzards and blazing sun, and heard many Adventures in Odysseys.

When we were living in Roatan, Honduras, we knew we would need a vehicle once we returned to the States.  About a month  before we left I started looking online.  I got so discouraged because there was nothing within our price-range.  Matthew reminded me that we didn’t need it yet, so that is why it wasn’t available yet.

About a week before we left I gave in to the urge and looked again.  There is was.  Everything I had prayed for: CD-player, sunroof, the right color, cruise control, and all under our price-range.  I knew that it would stay un-bought until we arrived, if God wanted us to have it.  The previous year we had saved up enough money to buy it in cash.  So, when we got home, the following day we drove all the way up to New York, took it for a spin, prayed and felt God’s peace over buying it, and plunked down every penny.

We somehow all fit and somehow have survived without a DVD-player (although now that the kids know they exist, they are praying our next van will have one!)

In California, our Christmas tree was longer than the van.  We drove home very slowly on the twisty-turvy road with the 17-foot tree hanging down over all of the windows.  What a memory.  Another memory that stands out is when we were driving home from CA.  Right before we left, Matthew noticed that one or two of the tires had become so worn and thin that they had developed bubbles on the rims.  I’m so thankful he never told me.  Since we were penniless at that point in our lives, after having spent 8 months without a job and doing a Bible internship program, we didn’t get them replaced.  We spent the bulk of our driving through the night.  He said he remembers just praying through Kansas that the tires wouldn’t blow.  We had all of our stuff packed very carefully around the spare tire.  Two-thousand miles later, safely in my parent’s driveway in PA, he showed me the tires.  How thankful we were!

So, although the paint is no longer shiny, the seats have perpetual crumbs and stains on them, the rugs are caked with years of little snowy, muddy, dirty shoes and feet standing on them… it is a part of our family and has brought us to so many places.  It has to be one of the top material blessings that God has gifted to us.  And, today, it passed inspection for another year.  I think it deserves a vacuum!

I find myself telling Betty that every day.  The song gets stuck in my head and I change the lyrics around to fit my Betty.  She is growing so fast, changing every day.  She can roll from her tummy to her back and then back to her tummy again.  She loves to chew on everything.  Sometimes she cries when I walk away.  Her entire face lights up in a special way when her daddy says hello to her.  She doesn’t just smile.  She moves her whole body with happiness.  She flaps her arms a lot and snorts when she’s excited.  

She’s a good girl.  Loves her mama.  Loves Jesus, and her Daddy too.