Reformation 2016

Once again, the Lord proved Himself to be faithful to our family in the hosting of this year's Reformation party, just as He has the previous twelve years.  I only experienced a slightly elevated stress level a couple of times this year, as compared to the full-on panic attacks I've experienced in years past.  The Lord is growing my faith--in Himself and in my husband.

We have used Doorpost's A Night of Reformation  resource for many years for our parties. The point of these parties is to celebrate God's work in the Church and to teach the kids (and even the adults) about that work. We've done all the parties suggested in the Doorposts book (John Calvin, Martin Luther, the Scottish Covenanters, etc).

Polycarp and King Charles I
**you can click on any picture to enlarge it**

We've also done what I've termed, "off-grid" parties.  These are the ones that give me the most angst. Matt chooses a theme that's not in the book.  That means starting from scratch on everything--the worship, the games and the activities.  Past years' "off-grid" party themes have included, "The Five Solas" (Moses, Isaiah, King Josiah, Tyndale, Wycliffe, Luther) "The Creeds" (The First Creed, The Apostle's Creed, The Nicene Creed, The Athanasian Creed) and "The Saints" (Dorcas, Knox, Maxwell and Alfred the Great)

All Glory, Laud and Honor (ca 820)

This year, Matt chose another theme that's not in the book--"The Pre-Reformation Church."  He chose to focus on this time in history because he wanted  the kids to learn about the events that lead up to the Reformation, which began when Martin Luther nailed his 95 thesis to the church door in Wittenberg.

Since the kids that attend our party are all getting older, Matt decided that this year, instead of having the kids play games that illustrated the Biblical truths and historical facts he wanted them to learn, he would try a different approach.  He decided to write a play, or rather, have our kids write it, and have all the kids perform it the night of the party.

Matt assigned Paul the task of researching the years from the time of the Early Church to the time just before the Reformation.  Then Paul and Grace collaborated to write a play. Reformation Sunday found Grace and Matt putting the final polishes on the script. Reformation Day was a flurry of activity in the readying of costumes, sets and final details.  We were down to the wire, as usual.

Grace was coaching Joel on his lines about one that afternoon.  Joel asked, "Why didn't we start on this before now?"  I turned on my heels and went back to my house cleaning, which is my coping mechanism.

When the guests arrived, all decked out in Medieval garb, we gathered everyone in the kitchen and Grandpa Bob said a pre-meal prayer.  We then ate.  While the adults finished their meals and talked, Matt, Grace, Paul and Elizabeth took all the kids to the basement to run through the play one time before the actual performance. Since it's rude to clean while one has guests, I refrained. I'm so happy all our little guests were game for impromptu costume changes and improv acting.

Jude as Polycarp before the proconsul

Isaac as King Charles I receives a visiting envoy.

Once the kids had finished their practice, everyone gathered in the living room for a time of hymn singing and Bible reading.  Then, down to the basement for the big performance.  From the discussion in the early Church about how to assimilate Gentile believers, to the martyr Polycarp, to Augustine, Charlemagne, the division of the Roman and Greek Orthodox churches, to Wycliffe and finally Hus, a great span of years was covered in about thirty minutes.

Bishops demand a defense from Wycliffe

All the adults agreed the kids did a great job.  We sang another hymn, (Lord Jesus, Think on Me (ca430)) and then headed back upstairs to eat a snow covered chocolate castle cake (sorry, forgot to get a picture) and caramel corn to end the evening.

"Today you roast a goose [Hus], but there will come a swan you cannot cook."

Kudos go to Matt and the big kids.  Paul was instrumental in not only the research, but also in the set building, which included a stake at which to burn John Hus.  Grace wrote most of the play and directed it.  She also figured out all the costumes, sets and props.    Lydia was able to fashion beards and crowns to add to the costumes on the day of the party.  Every single thing the kids used for the performance was found in our house, which displayed their creativity and resourcefulness, in my own humble mama opinion.  I was also very proud of my little guys for getting over their embarrassment and acting their hearts out (and our little guests, too).

None of this would have been possible without the Lord's help.  That may sound trite, but seriously, these parties are so much work, it's just a miracle they come together the way they do.  Yay, God!

"For nothing will be impossible with God."  Luke 1:37

Two Tickets

When you've been married a number of years, you realize that you have certain conversations over and over again.

One of ours goes like this:

I sigh my overwhelmed sigh and Matt says, "Melissa, I've got two tickets."

Yesterday we had that conversation again and I said, "So you always say, but you never produce the tickets."

Without missing a beat, he said, "You never pack your bags."  Alright.  You got me there, Matt.

The Little Makeover that Snowballed

I had a friend ask me recently if I'd ever finished painting my laundry room.  I finished painting the day I started, but the rest of the laundry room makeover took longer.  Nothing in the home improvement department takes place very quickly around here.   Part of my hesitation in starting the project in the first place was knowing that most of the stuff in the room would need to be relocated.  Thus, the snowball effect.  Or as my sister once so aptly put it, "It's like pulling the thread on a sweater, it just keeps unraveling."

The before.  I forgot to take a picture before I cleared out all the stuff.

Once Elizabeth returned from Uganda, she sewed some little curtains to hide the junk behind the laundry counter.  The curtains were made out of a Martha Stewart bed sheet that I picked up at the thrift store for $2.  I had to buy the tension rod, but I had the little clip hangers already.  They were a 25-cent yard sale find from a couple of years ago.

I had in my mind that I wanted vintage looking hooks to hang our aprons and a few other odds and ends.  I finally found what I wanted at Hobby Lobby for 50% off.  I commissioned Lydia to paint some water color pictures with a couple of my favorite Bible verses on them.  I already had the frames.  I also hung up a couple of thrift store plates that I've had for years.

The paint I used for the walls was a mixture of leftover bathroom paint and a bunch of free samples I had on my basement shelf.  So overall, this was a fairly cheap project, coming in at around $30.  I love the finished room.  It's a cheery corner in which to tackle a not-so-fun job.

 As I mentioned on Instagram, my laundry room is basically a closet in my kitchen.  I adore the convenience of having my washer and dryer so close to the hub of the house.  However, I've often been embarrassed when guests see the sorry state of that room.  No matter how many times I told the kids to keep the doors closed when we had people over, it just didn't happen.  I don't have to worry so much about that anymore.  That said, the laundry room counter is one of the few sacred places in our house. It's about the only place that's safe to put anything you don't want little kids to get into.  So sometimes it does get kind of cluttery, but that's life with littles.

Here's where the snowball comes in.  All of the junk in the laundry room, which mostly consisted of cleaning supplies, had to find another home in order to make this makeover successful.  I wanted to put all of the cleaning tools (mops, vacuums, brooms, etc.) in the family room closet, which is where the former homeowners stored such things.  So that meant that the stuff in the family room closet needed to move to the office closet.

Which meant that not only the office closet, but also the office itself needed to be cleaned and decluttered (so that I could actually get to the closet). Which in turn, lead to a whole house decluttering and even a back yard decluttering.

Our house is in no way minimalist, but too much stuff makes me nervous.  I stop by Goodwill about once a month to get rid of unneeded items, but a good overall purge was still in order.  After 20 years, I'm finally getting a full night's sleep most nights, which made it possible for me to even think of tackling such a big job.

However, ten people live in this house.  We are here most of the time.  Each day, three meals plus snacks are prepared,  2-3 loads of laundry are done,  2-4 dishwasher loads of dishes are run, plus schoolwork and all manner of creative projects are undertaken.  In other words, there's a lot of mess making going on.

One night last week, I was lamenting that all of my hard work to get this house ship shape seemed to be for naught.  The house spirals so quickly into disarray.   Matt said, "Look around you, Melissa. There's a lot going on here. Industry, hospitality, creativity, mission.  That's all messy, but useful work."  So even though the guy at the Goodwill donation site recognizes my car, things are still not as clean as I'd like them to be around here, but life is being lived to the full.  Lord, help me to remember it.



  

My Thoughts on Our Daughter's Trip to Uganda

Elizabeth has given me permission to share this post.  Elizabeth took the photos featured in this post.

Elizabeth is back from her mission trip to Uganda.  A year ago, she stood in our kitchen as she contemplated the decision about whether or not to go to Africa.  She had just learned the trip would be three weeks, not two, as she had originally been told.  She was very concerned about leaving her family for that long.

I said, "Elizabeth.  I believe the Lord has called you to go on this mission trip.  Do I want you to go? No.  But I think we both know the Lord wants you to go."  She cried and nodded her head in agreement.  We both just knew.  This was God's errand, not ours.

As a mother, granting Elizabeth permission to go on this trip was difficult.  That's not to say it wasn't a hard decision for Matt as well, he just didn't have nearly as many emotions to work through as I did. You see, life hasn't always been easy for Elizabeth.  Things that other children seem to learn quickly, almost effortlessly, have not been effortless for Elizabeth.

Elizabeth has dyslexia.  Folks get upset when I say this about Elizabeth.  "You shouldn't label her," they say.  Dyslexia is not a label.  It's just a fact.  And the fact is that her father and I have signed Elizabeth up for programs, private tutoring, therapies and prayed countless prayers on her behalf for many years.  (And so have her grandparents and others).  And the truth is this:  dyslexia cannot be cured.  But, the person with dyslexia can learn coping mechanisms, which Elizabeth has done.

All that to say, this mama's heart was torn to pieces over her daughter going to Uganda.  Elizabeth's brain filters information differently.  She struggles with things that are ho-hum normal to most people.  I was petrified to send her to the other side of the globe where I wouldn't be able to help her process what was happening around her.  Where I wouldn't be present to remind her to take her malaria medication, to brush her teeth with only bottled water and to put a protein bar in her backpack everyday so that if the food out in the bush was unsafe, she would have a back up plan.

During Lent, Elizabeth had to get up one Sunday in front of the church and describe her upcoming mission trip to the congregation.  That week's Lenten soup supper's donations would be applied toward her expenses and she needed to let people know the details.  Elizabeth wrote the talk she gave. I edited it for her, but the words were hers.  Elizabeth got up, delivered that talk, made eye contact with people in the congregation and basically knocked it out of the park.  I sat in the pew and cried over the Lord's goodness.  I never thought that my girl would be able to get up in front of a group and deliver a talk that she had written and do it with such grace and poise.

In May, I attended my last Bible Study Fellowship class of the year.  I asked the women in my group to pray for my daughter this summer, as she was going on a mission trip.  I also briefly mentioned my fears regarding her going.  After class, one of the women pulled me aside.  She said, "Melissa, I have dyslexia, just like your daughter."  She told me that when she was about Liz's age, she had learned to put her ultimate trust in God, not in her family.  She knew God would help Elizabeth do the same. God spoke to my anxious heart that day through my BSF classmate.

Also in May, Elizabeth had her end-of-year homeschool testing.  The same Christian woman (who also has a PhD and who specializes in reading difficulties) has been testing Elizabeth for the past 8 years.  She was pleased with Elizabeth's progress.  She was tickled with her obvious growth in confidence and maturity.  She told Matt and me that we had without a doubt made the best possible decision in homeschooling Elizabeth and staying the course, even when we wanted to give up.  And when Elizabeth told this woman that she would be going on a mission trip this summer, she teared up.

In the weeks leading up to Elizabeth's departure date, God continued to confirm His plan for her. Last minute donations, texted prayers from friends, and suitcases that weighed 49.5 lbs each. (There is a 50 lb. weight limit.) Two days before Liz's departure, in my daily Bible reading, the Lord reassured me once more.  By God's providence, the passage of the day was in Joshua--the exact same verses the Lord gave me before we began this homeschooling journey.  This whole raising kids thing is the Lord's work.  It always has been.  He was reminding me of that fact again.

After Elizabeth boarded the plane to Uganda in June, Matt and I left the airport shaking our heads. Matt asked, "Who would have guessed that we would send our Little Bitty to Uganda?"  Only God would have guessed.

By God's grace, we were able to have regular contact with Elizabeth through Face Time while she was in Uganda.  This was an unexpected blessing, but I believe it was a planned mercy of the Lord's. He allowed me to see how Elizabeth was doing on a day-to-day basis.  And Elizabeth did great.  She remembered all of the things I was concerned she wouldn't remember.  She loved her mission team mates, the people of Uganda and the country itself.  Her ability to see and interpret events on a deep spiritual level blew me away.  She wants to go back to Uganda again!

Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen. Ephes.3:20-21

**I'd like to personally thank Pastor Goodfellow and Martha.  Through God's providence, we got to know you before we ever even knew you'd be taking our daughter with you on this wonderful adventure for God's glory.  I'd also like to thank Mrs. Kim F. and Mrs. Alice W. for your care for Elizabeth's welfare beyond the check boxes and stanine scores.  And of course, Elizabeth's grandparents, who've been in the trenches with Matt and me all these years.  To Uncle Keith, who has always offered Elizabeth opportunities to grow.  And to the Lord Jesus Christ, who saw fit to give us such a beautiful gift in our daughter, Elizabeth Jane, our Little Bit.**

Elizabeth is in Uganda

For those interested, you may follow her trip through her Instagram account.  Her handle is:  lillittlebitty.

The New Normal

Chaos reigns.  At least that's what it feels like right now.  It's not really true.  It's just I didn't expect life to speed up. I thought it would slow down.  In fact, I was planning on it.  I kept thinking to myself, "If I can just make it to summer, I can catch my breath."

Then I got brave enough to look at the summer calendar.  With all three big kids gone and/or working much of the summer, it looks like life will not be slowing down much.  No big kids means I'll be the mom of mostly littles again.  It feels like I'm starting over.  Yet, I'm not.

I have kids that are getting ready to launch, but I still have one that needs to be potty trained.  I was telling a friend not long ago, "I have a 2 year old and a 20 year old who are crying."  I'm providing both adult and toddler counseling--sometimes within the same hour.  At times I feel like I'm losing my marbles.  I long for the simpler days when the kids and I went to the park, read books and played outside in the backyard.  Funny, back then I thought life was hard.  It was hard, just a different kind of hard.

In the midst of the chaos, I took time out to help Joel
spray paint his older sister's outgrown bike.  It was transformed
from a feminine purple to a decidedly masculine hunter green.

It's not that the kids don't play and read--they do.  I just don't have as much time to do those things along with them.  Gone are the days when I set the schedule and mapped out activities for all of us. My new normal is more like being an air traffic controller.  "You have permission to take off and go there."  "Someone is approaching the runway, but only long enough to snarf down dinner before taking off again."  "You, get him in the bath and wash off all the mud and chicken poop."  "Did somebody feed the dog?"  "Practice piano." "Do your school work." Sometimes I feel like my head might spin off.  

How do I combat the crazies?  I do a lot of praying in the night watches.  I read my Bible every morning (sometimes only getting through 1 chapter).  I listen to hymns--a lot.  When I find myself getting spun up, hymns calm me down.  I concentrate on the basics--food, clean underwear, Bible (personal devotion time for all readers) and math.

I'm also trying a new system of writing down the "have-to-dos," for the day first thing in the morning. These are the items outside of the basics (listed above) that still need to happen.  I write down the "have-to-be" places for the day on this note as well.    I stick the note to the cabinet and check it throughout the day to keep myself on track.  I have Grace write her work schedule for the week on a separate Post-It so that I am more informed of her comings and goings.

I like to know the plan and I like to know it ahead of time, thank you very much.  God, in His grace, continues to teach me that I don't have to know the plan (not even the plan for the next hour).  I have to learn to roll with the punches.  My days no longer follow a predictable pattern.  Monkey wrenches are now the norm, not the exception. Matt will sometimes ask me with a smile on his face, "Can you roll with it, Melissa?"  I'm learning to give a tentative, "Suuurre."  God is teaching me to ever rely on Him and slowly, but surely I am learning.  And I'm pretty sure He is pleased with the new normal.

Instagram: My Thoughts So Far

I started using Instagram last Fall.  I  wanted to follow a few of my favorite bloggers on Instagram.  I used my handle, "Broodmoma," which is the name I've used for several years to obtain Internet coupons.  I hardly ever checked my Instagram account.  It was something I mostly forgot about.

Then, I began checking my feed more and I started commenting on a couple of other people's Instagram accounts.  I was weirdo-no-profile-stalker "Broodmoma."  At the same time, I was getting increasingly frustrated with my lack of time for blogging.  That, coupled with the fact that my photographer had become a full time cosmetologist, left me even less enthusiastic about blogging. Not only was finding the time to write difficult, but once I had a post written, I often waited days for Grace to have time to take and upload some photos to go with it.

 Soooo, that lead to my light bulb moment--starting a real Instagram account.  I loved Instagram right from the start.  It's like short hand blogging.  So easy and so convenient.  It was great to finally get some of the many pictures I was taking off my phone and into some sort of venue. Instagram is kind of like a mini-journal.

I like the fact that because of Instagram, I'm actually more thankful for the little daily moments of life.  It just takes a few minutes to document a cute pic of one of the kids with a few words for a caption.  Those moments aren't just passing by and then quickly being forgotten.

The thing I don't like about Instagram is the Pavlovian response I have to the orange alerts.  I love to see the likes and comments on my posts.  I find I check my phone more often, which I don't like about myself. That's something I'm working to correct.

My big girls had to alert me to the fact that hashtags help other people find your Instagram.  Since, for the time being, I have a public Instagram account, I have largely dropped hashtags as I don't want complete strangers following me.  Even so, some hashtags have been hard to resist.  I've gotten to be a pro at blocking followers.  I've figured out the ones that are just trying to get more publicity for their own accounts/blogs/products.  Block, block, block.

So far, nearly all of my followers are family.  It's neat that the grandmas, grandpas, aunts and uncles can see what the kiddies are up to.  Daddy and big sister can check their accounts when they're away for the day and see what they're missing at home.

Dad and I (Grace) were here for this one, just to let ya'll know.

As Grace assures me, "There are no obligations in social media."  But if you'd like to follow me on Instagram, you'll find me there more frequently than you do here.  Instagram is easy to set up on any smart phone (if I can do it, anyone can).  My handle is Broodmoma.  As I mentioned before, you don't have to follow me to see my Instagram account.  You can simply come here to the blog and click on the "Instagram" icon in the upper right hand corner.  Then click on the picture to see the caption and comments, if there are any.

Fear Not

For the first time in months--scratch that--years--our family is not going through or dealing with some sort of crisis.  I'm fully aware that the Lord uses our trials for our good and His glory.  He has proven that to our family time and time again, but for the first time in a very long time, we're not "in the thick of it."

When people ask how we're doing, I say, "Good . . .blah, blah, blah."  It's not that it's untrue.  Life is good.  God is good.  But the past seven months have been a struggle.  I mean STRUGGLE.  

We're studying the Revelation of Jesus Christ to St. John this year in Bible Study Fellowship.  As an aside, I've been very pleased with how deftly BSF has handled the book.  No theological strong-arming.  Just the book as it was recorded, concentrating on victory and The Lamb.

Of course, one can't study Revelation without learning about satan.  The enemy of our souls is alive and well.  He's a deceiver and one of his greatest deceptions is that he is simply not that dangerous.   Satan would like to keep on deceiving, to keep under wraps who he really is and keep us believing that he is not that formidable of an opponent.  So when we learn what he's truly made of and the depth of his evilness, he doesn't like it.  I believe our family has been battling satan this year. 

Many things have happened in these last months which I don't write about on the blog or talk about with friends or even family.  It's just been a battle.  A real one. Spiritually, this has been a very difficult year for us.  Matt and I have discussed it many, many times.  Temptations, fears, doubts, persecution.  We've experienced the gamut, it seems.  Through it all, the Lord has held us close.  He's never once let us slip or fall, even though we felt like we were outnumbered and hanging on by a thread.

One thing I've been battling lately is fear.  I woke up in the middle of the night a few days ago.  I was absolutely petrified.  The current presidential race, coupled with the recent events involving ISIS had me thinking, fearing, about the future.  Specifically our kids' futures.  More specifically, I began to imagine a world war and a military draft in which all five of our boys would be at risk and in harm's way.  I cried and I prayed.  I cuddled up to Matt and eventually fell back to sleep.

Then, in the morning, during my devotional time, I read this passage from Psalm 32:

Therefore let everyone who is godly
    offer prayer to you at a time when you may be found;
surely in the rush of great waters,
    they shall not reach him.
7 You are a hiding place for me;
    you preserve me from trouble;
    you surround me with shouts of deliverance.

Just when I think I can't take it anymore, God comes.  He sees.  He knows.  He reminds me of His sovereignty.

We are nearing the end of our study of Revelation.  Sometimes, when you've studied a book of the Bible for many weeks, you forget where you started.  But Sunday at church, I was reminded of the beginning.  One of the readings of the day was from the first chapter of Revelation:

Then I turned to see the voice that was speaking to me, and on turning I saw seven golden lampstands,  and in the midst of the lampstands one like a son of man, clothed with a long robe and with a golden sash around his chest. The hairs of his head were white, like white wool, like snow. His eyes were like a flame of fire,  his feet were like burnished bronze, refined in a furnace, and his voice was like the roar of many waters.  In his right hand he held seven stars, from his mouth came a sharp two-edged sword, and his face was like the sun shining in full strength.

 When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. But he laid his right hand on me, saying, “Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one. I died, and behold I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades. 

Pastor gave his sermon from this text.  He talked about Jesus and about how He is trustworthy, faithful and true.  He ended his sermon with this quote:  "It's only when Christ is seen for who He really is, that we can see anything else as it really is." 

Christ is The Lamb.  He is victorious.  And He says, "Fear not." 

Update: Lydia's Bees

It's been almost a year since Lydia got her bees.  So far, so good.  The bees survived the winter and have managed to escape the many scourges that ravage beekind.  I've repeatedly reminded Lydia to be grateful to God for His mercy in sparing her bees.  That may sound dramatic, but every time I hear about someone else's bee problems and/or losses, I learn a little more about how tricky beekeeping is.

It's a task that requires vigilance, an eye for what problems may be present and a knowledge of how to treat those problems quickly and effectively.  Lydia is either super confident or naive.  Probably both.  She never seems to be worried about her bees.

Each month, Lydia attends the local bee club meetings with her beekeeping mentors, Roger and Suzy. Lydia is not technically a member of the club because she hasn't paid any dues.  However, because of her good attendance and participation in the meetings, they've given her a name tag anyway.

Every week since the beginning of January, Lydia and I have had a date with the allergist.  She gets a bee antigen shot and we wait together in the office for 30 minutes before the nurse checks Lydia for a reaction.  So far, Lydia has not had any significant reactions, so we're on track to finish this process sometime in the next couple of years.  Honestly, when I first learned of Lydia's bee allergy and what it would take to treat it, I wanted to throw in the towel.  Get rid of the bees.  Call it a day. But Lydia was heartbroken at the prospect. So I take her to get the necessary treatment.  It's what mamas do.

Lydia plans to harvest her first batch of unadulterated honey after Easter.  Her very first batch of honey was made mostly from the sugar water that she fed the bees when they were first getting started. We've eaten that honey, but it's not proper to sell it.  So hopefully Lydia will have a batch of salable honey soon.

Lydia has informed us that the bees are likely to swarm this spring, which is what bees do when the hive gets too crowded.  So we need to get another hive very soon.  She has her heart set on a top bar hive ($$$!).

I questioned Lydia the other day on the subject of swarming.  "So, if we get another hive, will the extra bees just transfer over to it?"  "No," she said, "They'll still swarm.  Then you've got to go find them and get them back."  Alrighty then.  That sounds easy.  Or, apparently, the bees can be separated before they swarm. "That's why we need Dad to build a hive this weekend," she said.  It's all so very simple.

The Kids: Joseph

Joseph Athanasius.  (You can read more about my pregnancy with Joseph here.  You can read about Joseph's baptism here.)

This child has given us a run for our money.  The only one of our eight children to sleep through the night before eighteen months of age (in fact, he was sleeping through by the time he was 6 months ), I came to the early conclusion that Joseph would continue to be a dream child.

However, Joseph  has outclassed all of his siblings in the toddler department.  This kid finds trouble our other kids didn't even know existed.  Climbing and standing atop dressers and counters, running the microwave and turning on the faucet by himself are only part of his repertoire.  My friend says he has an "impish grin."  Elizabeth calls him "that devil baby."  One might wonder how in a house with this many people someone wouldn't see Joseph when he commits his acts of mischief.  I've wondered myself.  I have no answers.  The kid is a piece of work.  Yet, he's completely adorable.  He melts our hearts and makes us laugh every single day.

Joseph does not look like his four older brothers, who all take after their daddy.  In fact, I've been told the boys are all "clones" of their father.  All except Joseph.  He is almost a dead ringer for my baby brother, Jacob.  Since I was fourteen years old when Jacob was born, I remember a lot about him as an infant and toddler.  Joseph's mannerisms are almost exactly the same as Jacob's.  He also appears to be left-handed, just like Jake.  He observes what people do and then does the same (like running the DVD player or iPad, etc.).  Jacob was the same way.

Joseph still speaks very few actual words.  My brother, too, was mostly non-verbal at this age.  That's not to say that Joseph doesn't communicate.  He communicates very well.  His use of sign language and his own made-up gestures tell us exactly what he means.  If Joseph sees that his older siblings are headed outside to play, he points very forcefully to his feet to let me know that he wants shoes on so that he can go outside, too.  When he's found some sort of trouble and I catch him in the act, he waves both hands and says, "Uh, uh."  Translation:  "Don't punish me!"  When he eats something he really likes, he gives the "thumbs up!" sign.  I have no doubt that Joseph will begin talking more soon.  My brother started talking when he was three years old.  He spoke in full sentences and has hardly stopped talking since. (I love, you, Jake:)

Joseph is also a lot like my dad, in both looks and personality.  He doesn't like it when his hands get dirty.  My grandma tells me that my dad was the same way at a very young age.  He is very organized in his own little way, just like Grandpa.  Let me explain.  Every night, we have to clean out Joseph's pockets. Each pocket is full of the things he has collected throughout the day.  Each pocket has similar items in it.  For instance, rubber bands, marbles, Lego heads, buttons, pennies or bouncy balls. Always multiples of the same category and the categories are never mixed.

Joseph likes to pretend with his older brothers.  He is especially fond of playing cowboys.  Much to his delight, his big brothers always let Joseph think he's the sharp shooter who never misses his target. He shows great concern when one of his brothers gets hurt.  He tries to lend comfort by giving the injured party a hug.  When I pick him up, he looks me in the eye, gives me a huge grin and then proceeds to give me a big hug, complete with back pats.  When I ask him for a kiss, he presents his cheek to me so that I can kiss it.

Joseph is still in love with his blue blankie.  In fact, I had Grace make a duplicate in case THE blue blankie ever got lost.  Joseph knew we were trying to pull one over on him.  He would not accept the counterfeit at first, although he now prefers it over the original.

We can't wait to see what God has in store for the littlest guy in the family.  I wouldn't be surprised if it has to do with taking things apart:)  

This Week's Highs and Lows

High:  Sunday.  Taking our niece and goddaughter, Raphaella, out to lunch before Matt had to leave town that afternoon on business.  It's been a few months since we've seen Elle, so it was nice to reconnect.

Low:  Monday.  An early morning medical appointment with one of the kids (we're just running some tests--no emergencies).  We got to the lab right after it opened at 8 a.m. only to find it had relocated. We went to the new location and put our name on the list.  We were seventh in line.  We waited over an hour. This kid had been fasting and was hungry.  I hadn't eaten breakfast, either, so I was hungry. Finally, our name was called, but the lab didn't have any test orders for us.  So I called the dr.'s office and thankfully she was able to give direct orders over the phone.  Eight vials of blood later, we were outta there.  Finally.

Low:  Tuesday.  Another early morning appointment.  That's o.k.  I had been up since 4:30 a.m.  I don't sleep very well when Matt is gone.  Elizabeth and I reached the health department right on time, but realized we had forgotten all of the paper work needed for her travel vaccinations.  She thought I had the envelope, I thought she had it.  I didn't handle the situation well.  I panicked.  I lost it. Not my most stellar mommy moment.  I had Liz call Grace, who was home and able to run the papers in.  I thought for sure we'd have to reschedule the appointment for a month from now. Thankfully, they let us wait for the paperwork to arrive and then we proceeded with the appointment as planned.

Low: Still Tuesday.  I didn't get an afternoon nap as I had hoped.  I didn't manage my time well and I didn't get dinner started on time.  Plan B implemented.  Brinner.  Except even that didn't work out. Paul had a meeting. I insisted he eat before he went, even though he was getting more anxious by the second (he doesn't like to be late).  The first waffle stuck to the waffle iron like cement.  I tore a chunk off.  He slathered some pb on it and we ran to the car so that I could drive him to his meeting.

Low:  Later still on Tuesday.  Matt called from CA.  He wondered how the chicks were doing.  I told him the kids said they were fine, but then I went to go check on them.  One of the little kids had taken the water line out of the chicken box.  Yeah.  Those chicks were thirsty. Which lead to another unstellar mommy moment.  As I watered the chicks, I realized that a number of them had crusty poopy butts. It happens, but it must be dealt with.  Unfortunately, Matt wasn't home to do it, so the job fell to me. Only a responsible adult is qualified to torture little chickies and try to keep from tearing feathers off their bottoms.

High:  Wednesday.  The obit in the newspaper revealed that the young man whom I had seen on the roadway after a fatal car accident the previous Friday had been baptized into the Christian faith two weeks ago.  This had been such a burden on my heart.  It was good to know that by time I had seen him, he was in Jesus' arms.

High:  Wednesday night late.  My Matthew returned home.

High:  Thursday:  Liz's passport arrived in the mail!

High:  Friday.  It was a gorgeous day and the boys helped me work in the yard.  Matt and I got to see our other goddaughter, Opal, compete in her gymnastics meet.  She did very well.

High:  Saturday.  We had a family dinner to celebrate my mom's 66th birthday.  This past summer mom's health was such that I thought I wouldn't spend another Christmas with her, let alone another birthday.  God is very good.

For the Lord is good;
    his steadfast love endures forever,
    and his faithfulness to all generations.  Psalm 100:5

  

The Kids: Isaac

Isaac Johnner.  He's our little man.  We named him Isaac because God gave him to us as an answer to prayer.  Isaac means laughter.  Isaac made us laugh again after mourning another child lost through miscarriage and he continues to make us laugh every day.  When he laughs, everyone laughs, because his laugh is contagious.

Isaac turned five at the end of December.  He's tiny compared to his brothers when they were the same age.  In fact, Isaac has a very difficult time keeping his pants from falling down.  The battle is a daily one and it is real.  He's also very concerned about looking "weird" in regards to what he wears. So between his twigginess and his fashion sense, he's been our most difficult boy to clothe to date.

Just like his older brothers, Isaac loves to pretend to be a fighter pilot, a cowboy or a Rebel Fighter. Even though the eleven and under members of the family have not seen the new Star Wars movie, there's enough brand recognition, even in this t.v./cable free household (we do watch videos), that Star Wars is now a thing with our little boys.  Legos are regularly transformed into the Millennium Falcon.  Isaac, Joel and Jude spend a good part of each day running around the house and property pretending to be fleeing the Empire.

Isaac still loves ears.  Now that Joseph is older, he only occasionally tolerates an ear message from his older brother.  Poor Isaac.  He's no longer the rajah he used to be.

Isaac is becoming more his own person day by day.  He's starting to express his ideas and fill me in on funny stories about Joseph that he thinks I would find humorous, too.  Puzzles are a favorite activity for Isaac. He's quite patient and has a long attention span when putting together a puzzle.  His favorite books are still Richard Scarry books.  His favorite food is "cheesy wice." (Leftover brown rice, sprinkled with cheese, heated in the microwave.)

When we manage to pull together family Bible time, Isaac likes to add to the suggestions of what hymns we will sing. One of his favorite hymns is one his daddy taught the family, Victory in Jesus. Isaac also likes to help lead the family in saying the Lord's Prayer.  We pray that Isaac will continue to grow in the wisdom and knowledge of the Lord.

The Kids: Jude

Jude is still doing life at his own speed.  He's one tough dude, yet he's a cuddle bear.  He's the only one of our boys who will voluntarily give me a hug.  Randomly throughout the day, he'll catch sight of me, smile, run to me and wrap his arms around me.  It's enough to make my heart melt.

Jude is learning to read.  He seems to be having some of the same struggles with reading that his older sister had.  Each of them had terrible ear infections their first year of life.  Each ended up getting tubes in their ears.  I'm wondering if the constant infections affected their ability to hear language and contributed to their difficulty in learning to read.  It's just a theory that I've formulated based on some of the material I've read.  I'm no expert, just a mama trying to figure out how to teach her kids to read and enjoy all that reading will afford them, not the least of which is the ability to learn about God through His Word.

We are using the All About Reading Program, which is more time intensive than other phonics programs I've used in the past, but is highly recommended for children who struggle to read.  So far, so good.  Jude even read some of the words on the back of the cereal box to me the other morning.

Other than reading, Jude spends his days running here and there and every where.  He rarely walks. Anyone who knows Jude knows that he is not very quiet, either.  As his Grandpa Bob says, "Jude has one volume--loud."  Just seventeen months Joel's junior, Jude could not be more different in personality than his older brother.  He's a "take life by the horns" type of guy.

Jude makes me laugh every single day.  Between his facial expressions, his guttural noises and his quirky sayings, he's a crack up.  The other day, I stood in the kitchen and yelled his name.  I needed him to come to me as I had a job for him to do.  Our house is big, so often times kids don't hear me well, thus the yelling.  Thus the gift of the intercom system for my birthday.  "Juuude!  Juuude!" I shouted.  Finally, the intercom unit in the kitchen came on. "I'm not able to collect laundry right now, Mom.  I'm going to the bathroom!" (Yes, some child thought it was a good idea to put one of the intercom units in the bathroom.)

Jude also loves to playact military battles, just like his older brother.  One day not long ago, I returned home from running errands and MP Jude granted me clearance to park in our driveway. "Cops and Robbers" and "Cowboys and Indians" are also among Jude's favorite playtime activities.

Last summer, I was going through a stressful time and as a result, I wasn't sleeping well.  My friend, who is an expert in all things essential oils, set me up with a diffuser and some lavender oil.  I couldn't believe how much it helped.

Then, one day, I was in the health food store and I spotted an essential oil, took a whiff and on a whim, decided to bring it home.  It's called "Cheer Up Buttercup!" I often times get this oil going in the diffuser in the morning.  I'll make a big mug of tea, say a prayer, put on my big girl "I can do this" attitude and dig into that day's homeschool lessons. Jude calls the oil, "Suck It Up, Buttercup!" because he can't remember it's real name.  I think I like Jude's name better.

We are beginning to see glimpses of the soft heart Jude displays toward the things of the Lord.  He asks thoughtful questions during our Bible study time and quietly contemplates truths we are studying.  His dad and I trust that the Lord will fashion Jude into a "contender for the faith," just as his namesake exhorted believers to be.

The Kids: Joel

Joel Robert William.  It's a fitting name for a grown man stuck in a boy's body.  Joel is the only one of our children who has two middle names.  Matt and I weren't sure that we'd be able to have more children after Joel, so we decided to give him both of his grandfathers' names just in case.

At eight, soon to be nine years old, our little mustachioed man is growing taller and more philosophical by the day, although he no longer sports a stache. Joel is an observer and will only join an activity once he thinks he has a handle on it.  His is very concerned about proper rule following, which leads to concern over rule breaking.

For the most part, Joel is quite serious. That doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy laughing.  He does. However, he's not into silliness.  He speaks slowly and purposely.  He doesn't waste words.  He often times is quiet during our loud family dinner conversations, but then will pipe up with a deeply profound statement that bowls us over.

Joel recently took over Paul's chicken business which supplies eggs to a few customers and partially supplies our own family with eggs.  Paul was looking to get into his knife sharpening/making business and it seemed appropriate that Joel would take over the chickens.  As such, Joel is responsible to let the chickens in and out of the chicken house each day and make sure they have plenty of food and water. He also collects, cleans and dates the eggs every day.

Joel loves to read and he loves to role play WWII battles with his three little brothers.  Matt got me an intercom system for my birthday so I wouldn't have to do so much yelling to get kids to come from the far corners of the earth.  Of course, the kids have used the system more than I have.  Joel especially loves to put out WWII fighter pilot mayday messages.  "I'm going down.  I repeat, going down!"

Joel is very protective of his little brothers.  He allows his brothers to sleep in his bed when they desire to do so.   I often find all three boys (Joel, Jude and Isaac) and the dog squeezed into Joel's twin bed when I do a bedtime check.

Joel helps Jude to memorize his BSF verse every week.  Jude is always so tickled to come home from Bible study and tell me how he was able to say his verse in class.  This is due to Joel's diligence, not mine.

Before I conceived Joel, I prayed that the Lord would give me another son to raise to His glory.  I did conceive, but I miscarried.  One morning I was having my devotional time and reading in 1 Samuel. Hannah's cry to the Lord for a son became my prayer and I distinctly heard the Lord say to me, "I will give you a son."  Not long after that, I became pregnant with Joel.  He is the son for which I prayed and I know the Lord has great plans for this little boy of ours.