It’s true. Ava is thirteen today. You wouldn’t necessarily guess it by looking at her. She is still quite petite. But I can tell. She’s looking less like a little girl all the time. She’s acting less like a little girl. She has her own voice, that is, at different times, confident or silly or curious or compassionate or vulnerable or moody (yes, I know, comes with the territory). Ava has been gracious enough to not be in any hurry to grow up, but she faces many of the tensions that these years bring, all the same.

Still, as always, when I think of Ava, one of the very first things I think of is her hugs. They aren’t the answer for everything anymore (if only life were that simple), but it is still her preferred communication method. She will happily sit and snuggle, or stand and hug, for long moments. When she’s having a difficult time, a hug is often better than words, and if she sees someone else having a hard time, a hug is often her answer then, too.

Ava is also, as always, slow and meticulous…though perhaps a little more discriminating on where she applies her best efforts. While, once upon a time, every task got the same thorough regard, there are now occasionally tasks that are clearly considered less important in her eyes, and therefore get a much more cursory treatment. In most cases, that is likely for the best, since there are only so many hours in the day, but every so often, she needs to be reminded to work more carefully at something that just hasn’t ranked as important enough in her day.

Among the things that capture the most attention these days are reading, crafting, our two puppies, and anything technical. She snuggles on the couch for long hours with a book, or steals 15 minutes before dinner to whip up something out of polymer clay, or sits in the middle of the kitchen floor with a dog on her lap, or watches with rapt attention if Tim is working on solving a computer glitch.

Ava has become our best listener during devotional times, and often can answer questions with a word-for-word recount of what the Bible passage said, in the middle of a chapter-long reading. She is a quick study with memory verses, too, but even beyond that, she answers questions with comprehension and insight.

There is really so much to love about Ava. She is strong and smart and thoughtful and kind. She is still a peacemaker, often advocating for resolutions that prefer others over herself. She is endlessly creative and has infectious humor. I hope it’s a long time before she decides she’s too big (or too old) to snuggle on my lap when she says goodnight, but I am a big fan of the young lady she is becoming. I love her so very much and am truly excited to celebrate her thirteen years today.

The name Nathanael means “gift of God”, and that is truly what he is to me, and to our family. This young man is disciplined, thoughtful, generous, humble and kind. There is no task that he is unwilling to take on (most days).

He regularly (read: purposely) takes on the responsibilities of anyone who seems to need help.

He does the jobs that need doing that otherwise would fall through the “cracks” in our days.

He knows where everything is, not just because he notices details, but also because he helps in just about every aspect of our home life.

He is generally slow to speak and slow to become angry. It is rare for him to ever get into arguments with his siblings, and he often plays the role of peacemaker.

Nathanael has proven himself more than capable at so many things, he is a genuine jack-of-all-trades.

He is wise and frugal with his finances.

He is a great gift-giver because he pays attention to the people around him and knows everyone’s interests.

Nathanael actively avoids recognition for the ways he helps others. He seems almost…embarrassed (?)… to admit when he has done something for someone else.

He doesn’t have particular plans for the future yet, but he loves construction, and Physics, and problem solving, so he definitely has a general direction.

There are so many other things I could say. I am so very thankful for who Nathanael is, and I am proud of the choices he makes every day. I love him with all my heart and am excited to see all God’s plans unfold in his life.

Isabelle is eleven. But she wears size 14 clothes. And her feet are just about the same size as mine. However, there are more reasons than just her size that I have to remind myself, often, that she is only turning eleven today. While Isabelle doesn’t love schoolwork, she practically jumps at the chance to do almost anything else. So, she is capable beyond her years at cooking and baking, laundry and cleaning, taking care of anyone when they’re under the weather, mailing packages, mowing the lawn, styling hair, and probably lots more.

Despite her easily distracted nature, though, Isabelle does still excel at school. She has a naturally inquisitive mind, and an eye for detail. While not great at summarizing something she has read (usually, she just retells everything), she usually acquires a deep understanding of what she’s learning, and is quite good at applying what she has learned.

Isabelle is strong-willed and tenacious, though she sometimes requires reminders about her limits. She is not a high-energy kid, but she can keep going at a task longer than most. She loves playing the piano and singing. She rarely wants to be alone, but prefers company in whatever task she’s doing.

Isabelle is a sweetheart, with the best smile, the best giggles, the biggest hugs, and a deep desire to be a blessing to those around her. She is generous and servant-hearted. She anticipates the needs of those around her. She cheerfully volunteers when help is requested.

Our family is so blessed by Isabelle. She is a treasure and we love her so very much. I hope she knows today how truly precious she is and how thankful we are for her eleven years.

Today is our twenty-fifth anniversary. And I know it’s kind of cliche to say so, but I love Tim so much more today than I did on the day we walked down the aisle. It’s not even really hard to explain. I have had twenty-five years of experiencing him consistently, continually laying his life down for me and our family; making decisions time after time after time to prefer others, to do the hardest task, to take the least preferred anything for himself.

Tim is the one who gets up in the middle of the night with sick kids. He shuttles them to Tae Kwon Do. He helps with laundry. He preps gardens and trims fruit trees and mows the lawn. He kills spiders and catches bats (ick!) and cleans up puppy accidents. He gives me backrubs for meeting exercise goals, or if I’m tired, or if he just knows my day has been rough. He changes the oil, and changes the brakes, and changes the tires. He restocks toilet paper in the bathrooms, and unloads the dishwasher, and puts away groceries.

Tim is not naturally sympathetic or emotional. Words of affirmation are not his strong suit, and I’m not sure he has a poetic bone in his body (though he does put forth valiant – often humorous – efforts for birthdays and anniversaries). And, to be honest, I’ve had moments in the past twenty-five years when I have wished for romantic gestures and gushing sentiment. But always – ALWAYS – when I consider who he is and all he does for me, I conclude that there isn’t a single thing about him that I would trade away to instead be swept off my feet for a moment.

We have gone through hard times, we have butted heads, we have yelled. We have apologized, we have forgiven, we have tried again. We still can get on each other’s nerves occasionally. I could probably do better at supporting instead of trying to force my way. He could probably do better at…something, I’m sure. But we have learned to not expect perfection from one another. We’ve learned that everyone needs mercy, sometimes. We’ve learned that grace is undeserved and to [try to] show it even when it’s hard.

I might be guilty of taking Tim for granted, at times, but mostly, I am acutely aware of how much I depend on him, am blessed by him, and hope to never have to figure out how to live this life without him. Next to Jesus, he is the best decision I have ever made and I truly love him more than words can say.

My kiddo is eight years old today. As with all of my kids, Lucas remains who he has been from the first, but more refined.
Rough edges are smoothing out. There are fewer outbursts over school…in fact, there are even days he chooses to get ahead. His propensity to fight tooth and nail for his preferences has now often gives way to preferring someone else. He more often does his chores with a good attitude, and he listens to and processes correction (somewhat) more readily.
Lucas loves to laugh and be silly. He is a practical joker at heart, though his siblings aren’t *always* fans of being in the receiving end of his antics. He is creative and ambitious, and will often work diligently on an idea to see it come to fruition.

Lucas’s verbal communication skills are exemplary. He excels at explaining clearly, and at understanding fairly complex explanations. He has also finally started to accept that books can sometimes be enjoyable, though not so much that he will choose reading instead of other activities very often.

Lucas loves playing outside. He loves having dogs. He loves music. He loves his big brothers.

Lucas has a strong understanding of the gospel, and is growing in his fledgling faith. He is learning repentance and grace and forgiveness and compassion.

Lucas, thankfully, still loves to snuggle. He gives me hugs if I’m sad. He goes for walks with me. He jumps into my arms when he says goodbye. He his full of energy and excitement and emotion. I am so thankful for Lucas and he brings so much joy to our lives. It is a privilege to celebrate his eight years today.

As technology is wont to do, the code for my blog got glitchy and I needed to wait for my computer-smart husband to fix it for me. So, here I am, a few weeks late in writing all about Bethany at nineteen.

In some ways, Bethany has been the same girl as always this past year. Strong-willed. Lover of all-things sparkly or ruffly or shiny. Exceedingly confident. Kind of easily distracted, but also focused on the things that matter to her. But in light of her newly minted adulthood, other qualities have come to the surface – some good, like diligence at her job, a willingness to step out of her comfort zone to get questions answered, and motivation to pursue opportunities for growth in her Christian walk; and some more challenging…mostly related to wanting all of the freedoms of adulthood without fully recognizing the responsibilities.

Among her milestones this past year, she “graduated” from homeschooled high school, achieved her black belt in Tae Kwon Do, got her first ever job – which was full-time until this spring semester started, sewn multiple dresses (just for herself, for fun), and is now taking her first on-campus course as she explores a potential option for a career path.

She loves collecting anything chicken-related and has a box (or two, or three…) sitting in the attic filled with items for her one-day home, since in our current kitchen we have zero use or room for a cutting board with a picture of a chicken on it, or chicken salt and pepper shakers, among other things.

Bethany remains principled, even when it’s hard, and (mostly) fearless. Stubborn to a fault at times, but also often willing to heed advice after mulling over her options. She loves Jesus and prioritizes her time with Him each day. This road to new adventures has been tricky to navigate with her at times, but she is learning and growing and still faces most days with the same optimism she’s had since she was little.

I love this girl with my whole heart. So, though I’m a few weeks late, I’m still happy to celebrate the young lady she is and look forward to seeing all of God’s plans for her unfold in His time.

Caedmon is 21 today.  Officially, legally in every way, an adult.  Except for the occasional hotel or car rental that require a minimum age of 25.  Or the male brain development that still happens into the early 30’s.  But, even with the exceptions, I can’t escape the reality of time marching on.

He is in his last semester of college, and his job search will begin in earnest soon.  If he decides a job is what he wants his next step to be.  Usually, he thinks it is, but occasionally, he entertains other options.  And I am so proud of Caedmon that he has paid his way through college and will graduate without the burden of student loans…so he CAN entertain other options.

Caedmon loves the Lord.  He is bold about his faith and stands up for godliness in the very secular environments of school and work.  But he is also very approachable.  He is liked and well-respected by his extremely liberal boss and his “trans-identifying” classmate.  His coworkers with whom he has little to nothing in common will readily share their life hopes and struggles with him, ask him about Christianity, and see him as a friend.

Several times now, Caedmon has taken time off of work to volunteer as a counselor at a Christian camp.  The first time was only done with great prodding, but he came home from that experience surprised by just how much he enjoyed it.  Now, he looks forward to each opportunity, and always comes home grateful for the chance to help little kids hear about Jesus.

Still, he most looks forward to the day he can be a husband and father.  That day is not on the horizon, yet – and he is learning about patience and laying his dreams at the foot of the cross – but I am so thankful that, in a world that increasingly scoffs at the ideas of marriage and family and makes monetary success the highest goal, his values are secure.

This past year has flown by, but there have been occasional memorable moments.  He broke his wrist snowboarding last February.  He achieved a black belt rank in Tae Kwon Do in June.  He has learned, more, the realities of financial obligations as he navigated car expenses, school expenses, and lost work due to his wrist.  And even with the busy-ness of life, he makes time for his siblings, and for a pizza and movie night each week.  He, forever and always (I hope), wants to talk long about life and politics and the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

As always, I am so proud of the young man Caedmon is.  He works hard, has integrity, and truly wants to please the Lord in all he does.  I love him more than words.  And I like him.  He is fun and genuine and kind.  Being able to celebrate his birthday is a privilege I don’t take for granted, and I am truly thankful for these 21 years.

Well, this year it happened.  Elijah is officially the tallest person in our immediate family…and at fifteen (and if his appetite is any indication), is probably not done growing yet.

It does make it hard to remember, though, that he’s only fifteen…and I definitely don’t want time to go any faster than it already is.

This year, Elijah got his black belt in Tae Kwon Do.  He made two ukuleles, repaired a guitar and is working on making another guitar from scratch.  He has also started playing guitar in earnest this year and that, along with woodworking, consumes nearly all of his free time.

As always, Elijah remains full of wit and laughter.  He still makes me smile many times each day.  He does have a stubborn streak, too, though, which shows up with more regularity, and so we walk that line of teaching him respect and obedience while also encouraging him to be principled and independent.

Our Bud is also still kind-hearted and sensitive.  He encourages his younger siblings and helps them when they’re learning something new.  He has a servant’s heart when he recognizes that someone has a need, though struggles with tasks that he doesn’t see as necessarily benefiting a particular person.

He is athletic, and goofy and personable.  He loves Jesus and worships with his whole heart.  I’m so thankful for Elijah, and I love him more than words.  It is a privilege to celebrate his fifteen years today.

I am prone to thinking I have to get everything perfect – the decorations, the gifts, the food, the Advent devotionals.

I, subconsciously, think it’s my job to not disappoint anyone.

And it’s not just Christmas

And it’s not just the pressure of perfection.

It’s all the things that I think are needed before I can let go and breathe again…

…provision, healing, willpower, answers.

It’s all the things I think God would, or should, show up in if my faith were stronger, or if He really loved me, or if I finally learned whatever lesson it is He’s trying to teach me.

And I often think God must be frustrated with me because I still haven’t figured out the formula for being the perfect Christian.

But, I’m realizing that, while He might be frustrated with me, it wouldn’t be because I’m not perfect.

Because He isn’t looking for perfection.

And He doesn’t want me to be striving for perfection, or anything else.

He, in fact, knows how dissatisfying that pursuit – or any pursuit – will be for me.

He knows that even if every prayer got answered – if I became the person I think I should be – that it would never be enough.

Every gift under the tree is a sincere, but flawed, attempt to imitate the Giver, and the only perfect Gift ever given.

Every desire and pursuit, except for Jesus, is a broken cistern, destined to disappoint.

Because Jesus is the only fountain of living water, the only One who can satisfy.

And He is the only well that will never run dry.

                                         “My people have committed two sins:
                                          They have forsaken me,
                                          the spring of living water,
                                          and have dug their own cisterns,
                                          broken cisterns that cannot hold water.“

                                                                      —Jeremiah 2:13

There are a few worship songs lately that I feel are, at best, lacking context…and at worst, misleading people.  Songs that conflate what God does with Who He is.  Songs that, to my hearing, present God as more of some sort of genie in a bottle than as One who is innately worthy of praise, regardless of what He does or does not choose to do.  After all, what’s a person to think, then, when there’s no miracle, no answer, no tangible calm in the midst of a storm?  Who is God to them, then?  Hopefully, still all the things that fail to appear in some of these immensely popular songs – He is holy, just, good, sovereign, eternal, omniscient, loving, and perfect.  But, I worry, that a lot of professed Christians don’t have that full picture of our Father.

Yeah, it gets under my skin.  So, I tend to not sing those songs…or I make up my own words…and I get frustrated by worship song writers who aim for the feel-good lyrics instead of the foundation-strengthening variety.

But here’s the thing.  While those lyrics that make me grit my teeth every time I hear them aren’t ALWAYS the experience of every Christian, they sometimes are.  I can’t deny that God IS in the “business” of miracles.  He is gracious and compassionate and He delights in doing good to His children.

Honestly, though?  I don’t like to be reminded of those things.  I’ve found this Christian walk to be easier if I just conclude God is not going to show up in my circumstances.  I still believe He CAN…but, generally speaking, have convinced myself that He won’t .  No disappointment then, right?  Better to assume the trials, the wilderness, the silence are all some sort of refining process than to wonder why God shows up for other people and not me, not us.

I’m tired of trying to believe when I can’t see.  I’m weary of persisting in prayer.  I prefer not to hope, or so I tell myself.  Until some small corner of my heart leaps with…joy?…at the recognition that the God I know might just want to show up in my life…but that maybe, He wants me to believe He will, first.