REST

"For awhile the hobbits continued to talk and think of the past journey and of the perils that lay ahead; but such was the virtue of the land of  Rivendell that soon all fear and anxiety was lifted from their minds.  The future, good or ill, was not forgotten, but ceased to have power over the present.  Health and hope grew strong in them, and they were content with each day as it came, taking pleasure in every meal, and in every word and song."  J.R.R. Tolkien

Ian is at the nap skipping age.  He may drop it all together by Winter.  Most days he looks more like the pictures shown here by one o'clock instead of the sleepy eyed yawning child I had a month ago.  The one that asked if it was time yet to cuddle and read has now become a ninja as soon as I say the word rest.  The problem is that come six o'clock when we are all sitting at the table to eat he is a WRECK.  A complete train wreck crashing into our talk about the day as we pass the green beans.

And so for now I am trying my best at one thirty each day to make this wild blue eyed ninja stop a bit and rest that blond head of his. He doesn't know what will come at six o'clock.  He is unaware that the energy will fade and the sun will set before he can keep his heart happy and words sweet.  But I do.

So this season can feel like an enforced rest time for Jeff and I.  We were in go mode for the last ten years.  Filling too much into every hour of every day.  Living and pouring out fully.  Feeling the blessing and the exhaustion of it all.  We were ready to go from "go-time" to "go-harder" mode transitioning to Young Life International.

That didn't happen and while we continue to raise support steadily and slowly we are entering into a very different season.  Since marrying Jeff twelve years ago we have yet to have family dinners every night together until now.  Everything from pumpkin patches to birthday parties or dates were book-ended by ministry.  And now they aren't.  Jeff works hard from eight to six and then we are all together.  And it feels wonderful and strange all at the same time.

We are now just under 70%.  There are many ways the pie can be sliced when figuring out where we are and how far we still need to go.  The budget trimmed and new partners giving has us typing in new numbers to data base with prayers on our lips.  I don't think we have yet to get to the percentage we had hoped any of those times.  This time we were hoping to reach 75% by October 31st and we are just under 70%. I am finally starting to be grateful for this time that I had fought against for so long.  To rest in His timing not just with my words but in my heart also.  Enjoying the evening together and the work that has come in for Jeff.  Thankful that we have gotten to walk through humbling lessons here with friends and family beside us and not an ocean away.  And resting in the knowledge that He knows what the next years hold and we do not.  Trusting Him in the resting at one o'clock in preparation for the six o'clock.  Thank you for all the encouraging and supportive words as we continue to walk this out one percentage at a time.

"And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work."  

2 Corinthians 9:8

And...SMILE

We decided to save money on school pictures this year and take them ourselves.  Luke was easy to convince.  All I had to do was point out that the  forest backdrops were fake and he was ready.  Levi was trickier.  After explaining prices and how much we could save he was finally swayed by me telling him Ian  could be in the ones we take.  The three brothers together.  That did it, he was in.  Done and done.

Sunday afternoon the plan went into action.  I have three incredibly talented friends who do photography.  One of my dearest ones took this family picture two summers ago.  I remember sweating, itching, and threatening the boys through clenched smile.  The picture ended up like this: 

Instead of realizing she is incredibly talented I set out with false, very false confidence.

We ended up in Fredericksburg at the train station.  Three freight trains and one passenger train later we made our way to some cool looking buildings we had seen from the platform.

Noticing I had forgotten step one in having them wear something nice, unstained, and matching I positioned them anyway.

Thirty minutes later I had over forty shots and not one to mail out.  I also promised myself to buy the over priced, fake backdrop school pictures this Spring.  Until then, here are my three boys in all their glory...

Luke and Levi were up first.  After the first few shots I gently explained that Stables' boys are strong and sturdy and that all people can get this thing called a double chin in a picture.  "Lift your chin up a bit and smile."   I lost them at double chin.  They were thrilled to find out they could make them at any time.

 Forget the older boys I thought, lets try all three.  Less control, just let them be together and be natural.  Natural  is Ian shoving a stick in Luke's ear and jumping down ten times to pick flowers.  We did all laugh a lot and I have some great memories captured that do not have one ounce of fake in them.

The mighty mushroom

"Restlessness and impatience changes nothing but our peace and joy.  Peace does not dwell in outward things, but in the heart prepared to wait trustfully and quietly on Him who has all things safely in His hands."  -Elizabeth Elliot

Mushrooms don't grow incredibly fast.  The only part we get to see in a mushrooms life cycle is fast.  One evening the grass is spotless, the next morning there are small white mushrooms dotting the lawn.  It is easy to assume it all happened in one night.  It is amazing what you can learn from a curious eight year old.

What we see above ground does happen extraordinarily fast.  But, we see only the "fruiting body" of the organism.  We did not see the weeks and even months of the stem soaking up nutrients, dividing, and pushing upwards.  It happened in the dark so that when it did divide and the white cap pushed through the ground all it had to do was expand.  All the hard work was done.  All the real growth had already happened.

  I came into last year thinking it would sail by quickly.  That once we stepped away from what we were doing here and were willing to step into the something new everything would just fall into place.  I was pretty sure we would be the family they asked to come speak at future Young Life International conferences.  Standing up front as a smiling family with the boys not fidgeting or picking their noses.  Encouraging others that they too could raise support in six months.  I was also certain we would be standing on Basque soil this summer boldly loving others in Christ and learning Spanish as we ate pintxos.  There were moments this year when I felt like we might take the longest to raise support in YL international history. We have come a tremendously long way.  We have raised support slowly and steadily for an entire year.  The names and faces of everyone who has given humbles me.  I know many times my faith has not matched the generosity.  I know the giving was done in love and support.  As the months passed and kids got sick, when asking God  how much longer, and having Jeff go through plans a, b, and c when timelines shifted.

We only have 36% more to go.  It seems a small percent, but it represents a big number that has us on hold.   I know from running that I always falter at the end.  Not at the start of the run or even the middle with side cramps and weary legs.  It is the end when I just want it to be over with.  When I want to show I really can move gracefully with one foot in front of the other, just not in this way anymore.  I am ready to finish the run and see the light. The 36% more is telling us a little more has to happen in the unseen.  A little more preparation underground.  A few more laps around the field.

Jeff is now off Culpeper Young Life staff as of two weeks ago.  For the first time in our marriage we are both home every night eating dinners together.  He is working full time picking up remodeling jobs and doing estimates as we try to tag team raising support.  The health insurance grace period ends in November.  More decisions to make as we press forward.  Jeff is running the race way more gracefully than I am right now.  Carrying the bulk of it all on his broad shoulders.  we are trusting God for provision and timing.  Asking for endurance, to finish the race set before us.

We are hoping to raise 75% by the end of October.  That equals 11% in six weeks.  Or three people willing to give $100 a month and twelve more people willing to give $50 a month. Please pray for us as we move forward in faith and try not to dwell on outward things, but trust in the God of the unseen.

A day in the city

 

The boys and I woke up last Saturday knowing we needed to get out of the house.  Jeff and some guys were hanging drywall in the basement all day.  Dust, noise, and tools that Ian couldn't play with got us out by nine.  We were going to go to Luray again.  Dressed for a bike ride and creek trekking.  An hour later we ended up at the Vienna metro station with new plans to go to the D.C. zoo.  A trip that involved two shuttle buses, four metro trains, and two long walks to stations.  

I am happy I have a husband who laughs at our adventures and doesn't worry that I am the adult in charge when he is not there.  Grateful that Luke always remembers where we park our van, even in the metro garage ten hours later.  SO thankful that Ian can still fall asleep in a small umbrella stroller.  One that is  propped up on a chair while we eat a Lo mien noodle dinner in front of a sinking sun.  I am still smiling thinking about the look on Levi's face through out the day.  His pink cheeked grin that spreads to each of us.

Jeff grinned too when we came in smelling like the ape house and telling stories of our day.  I was kind of surprised that my creek and forest bred boys can make it in the city. They hopped off buses, and onto trains, and escalators with ease.  The plans changed at least ten times that day and no one ever complained.  We didn't think to, we were having too much fun living it to worry about what was next.  Except for food, we did start to worry just before we found the little Chinese place by the last metro stop.  

I didn't extensively prep them with metro maps and how to be safe in the city.  I didn't tell Ian he would get to ride on a carousel, or Luke that he could fit in T-Rex skull, or Levi that he would learn a massive amount about animal poop to share with his friends.  I didn't tell them because I didn't plan it.  I could never have planned a day like that.

 The day was a gift.  A crazy, wild gift that we unwrapped slowly wondering what would happen next. On the metro ride home I asked the boys if they could imagine doing this in Basque,Spain. With every sign written and  every person speaking in Spanish or Euskara.  They didn't yell no and I didn't get sweaty palms thinking about it.  We just smiled goofy grins at each other while holding onto the metro pole.  On that metro it really did feel possible. 

I really think days like that will prepare the boys for Spain as much as any Rosetta stone lesson or book about cultural adjustment.  To live each day with expectant hope, flexible and ready.  To trust a God that knows the plan.  A God that helps us live out His crazy love story even on the days with too much homework or long grocery store trips, oh those wretched grocery store trips.

I am trying to teach them as I learn.  To not let the mundane eat away at our wonder.  Not let routine erode our delight in God.  Luke still whispers that he is not sure he wants to go to Spain.  I still whisper that it is okay.  God is bigger than our wants or fears.  We are small and our hearts and minds so feeble.  Our sight is so limited but His is not.  So we will stumble through trusting a very big and good God together.  We may even start to have some fun in the process.      

"The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him; though he may stumble he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with his hand."  

Psalm 37:23&24

 

Learning from my three year old

 Ian turned three this June and adored the summer adventures with his big brothers.  He is still lamenting every morning as they board the bus.  I was a little sad at first also.  This fall my days will not be filled with teaching art or ministry.  After three weeks Ian and I have fallen into a happy rhythm of exploration.  We are going to all our favorite stomping grounds but they are so different without two more boys voicing their thoughts on what to do and where to go next.  Instead of feeling lost without them, Ian has savored every bit of the unhurried, quiet pace.  

  Just the two of us exploring in silence.  The first week out and about I asked questions and would tell him the Spanish words for the things we saw.  Orchestrating the days to be full and efficient.  The park trips following after the errands and phone calls.  Now, they come first and I watch more than hurry along;  listen more than teach. Realizing that maybe this season he will be the teacher and I the student.

I am pretty sure Ian can stare at the lake surface for hours.  Watching fish dart under the dock.  Exclaiming that the water can hold the sky and his face together.  Wondering where all the miniature waves come from that crash into the dock without ever ending.  He could run up and down the green hills again and again just for the sheer joy of running so fast and traveling so far from me.  I ran with him at first and then sat watching for over thirty minutes.  I laughed as I saw the speck of red that is my son turn into a huffing and puffing boy with limbs flying.  He finally collapsed staring at the sky.  Clouds drifted over us as Ian said over and over, "I felt wind in my hair mom.  I didn't know I could run that fast mom."  His natural reaction to the world around him is to watch, experience, and enjoy it.  No rushing, no to-do lists, or even the feeling of accomplishing something useful.  He is just enjoying and exploring God's creation one leaf and rock at a time.

I feel best when there is a long to-do list that I can neatly cross off before dinner.  On days that are less productive I have been known to add *make breakfast or *do dishes to the list just to have more to cross off.  I love fun and spontaneity but never at the cost of productivity.  I have never mastered the art of relaxation or rest.  I read before bed every night but would never think to pick up a book during the day.  I sit to eat a meal with family but would not think to sit down when eating alone.  Ian might just change me by the end of fall.  I have laid in grass and stared at the sky more these last three weeks than the last ten years.  I have watched the waters surface and taken more pictures.  Felt wonder and experienced gratitude for the small things in life.  And I think I am starting to breathe deeper and trust more simply.  Finding myself more thankful for this moment instead of trying to constantly prepare for the ones unseen.  I still write out my to-do lists, but each day they are getting shorter and my ability to stop and rest a moment gets a little longer.

 Hoping you get to be the learner instead of the teacher for a day.  That you will get to feel the itchy after grass sitting feeling and count clouds knowing that the God who created them also created you.  And that we weren't just created to be productive and serve but to rest and thank the Creator of it all.

"Trust in the Lord and do good;  dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture.  

                Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart."  

Psalm 37:3&4

What the last six months have taught me

Waiting is part of the adventure.

I am not a fan of waiting.  Not many people are.  But going through photos from the last six months I realized so many of them were of us waiting for something.  Maybe it is because it is the only time we are all still enough for me to capture the moment.  I am starting to be thankful for the wait, thankful for the stillness.  We know now that the adventure began the minute we said yes.

Saying good bye is hard.

  I have perfected the quiet sneaking away to not have to say good bye.  It is a painful blessing to say good bye to people we love.  To love deeply hurts.  It is a gift to get a chance to tell someone what they have meant to you in the time given.  It is worth every awkward gulp crying part of it.

                                        We are blessed.

 

We are blessed with amazing relationships.  Friends who have offered us adventures and sun soaked fun.  We do not own a pool, kayak, paddle board, or even a dog.  We are so grateful for friends who are brave enough to let three wild boys and two thankful parents crash into their days.

 

 To love and be loved is the richest gift from God.

 I can't imagine going through this life with anyone else.  I remember thinking twelve years ago that I could not only go through life's joys with this man, but also life's sorrows.  We have had our hearts knit together through both and become more humble and in love because of them.

Stop looking at the numbers...

The man on the bike is my dad.  Doctors said he had six months to live over six years ago.  A disintegrated heart graph would seal his fate before any of us were ready.  I got to see him ride a bike last week.  His heart is weak, but his days are numbered by God and not man.  We are so grateful for every day we get.

Life is good.

Life is good because we love a good God.  Not just when we get to boogie board down creek rapids or bike a new trail.  He is good in the waiting, the disappointments, and grumpy rain days.  We are learning to be thankful not just for the belly laughs but also for the refining of our hopes and dreams.

Blessing

We just got back from a week at the beach with family.  Toes in the sand, diving under waves, bike rides, and family meals.  It is so easy to rush through days forgetting the biggest blessing we have is in relationships.  How sweet it was to soak in the family time and see cousins giggle way too late into the night.  We are going to miss the summer days but can't wait to move ahead into what God has next.