my love-hate relationship with summer (plus 300 days of beauty, days 65-82)

summer garden beauty

I confess, I sometimes feel that I hate summer. I also confess that I wrote most of this over one month ago and then disappeared down the rabbit hole that summer schedules tend to be. I've never like Alice In Wonderland.

Each year I walk through the same diagnostic state, evaluating why summer is so very challenging. Several reasons: the randomness of summer activities and options, constant people (I do like people, but need time alone too...), and kids who suddenly see unlimited potential in every moment, every day.

I can be random and spontaneous, but my brain cannot keep track of the amount of outings and appointments that are so far above our normal level. I would consider myself a social introvert—I love people, but need “hermit days” to rest and recharge, which summer does not oblige. And my adorable, wonderful kids, whom I love to death, ask me 50,000 questions before 10 in the morning and have a hard time accepting that fun cannot be 24/7. Real life still exists. I wish Mary Poppins were a real person, but she is not. The house does not clean itself.

I began the summer ridiculously overwhelmed. Burned out from the year, transitioning to summer—like being on a pot-holed highway and hitting a rocky, washed out dirt road. Now (in a flash) I have arrived in August. And I would say that we have lived in a happy-exhausted-flurried-blur of summer scenes. Family, friends, neighbors, food, laughter, pool days, books, gardens, parks, rivers, walks, hikes, bike rides, iced coffees and ice cream cones.

We've had good days, hard days and the messy beautiful sprinkled and scattered throughout. I have not settled down to write in this space, but have been capturing beauty in each day through my camera lens and my phone (Instagram is wonderful, but may have killed my blog...). I also have decided to declare the first three week of June “no man's land”; not belonging to spring or summer, a time to plan, rest, and see what we want our summer to be. I realize not everyone has this flexibility. I can choose my summer because we homeschool, others cannot. However, I think a space with no pressure or expectations, even if just for a week is a sweet gift for a weary heart and frenetic pace of life.

In spite of the layout of my schedule, I've grabbed my moments. Time to be still. Time to savor. Time to breathe. Summer and I have come to a generally peaceful truce. We still have adventures ahead as we plow through August. I'm thankful (and still tired). And I may or may not have been dreaming of winter yesterday...

Here's snapshots of our summer beauty:

swim team, swim meets, and pool days

laughter--meaning she had the grocery store laughing. She has found unique ways to hitch rides in the grocery store since birth. I think I may have finally given up fighting it.

summer sunsets--I know, right? Breath-taking.

My kitchen has looked like this...often. Filters make it look almost artistic. There is a beauty in letting go. This is where we were for awhile and it's okay.

breakfast parfaits and morning devotionals...I do like lazy summer mornings...

river vistas and time with family...the Missouri River...

Costco date with my girl who LOVES hotdogs!

mini-bagels and cream cheese--I kid you not that we have mostly survived on these...devouring bags upon bags and tubs of cream cheese (cooking is at a minimum in the summer)

lots of reading...we read wherever we go... #ohtheplacesweread

visits to my hometown to be with family

when "pop and pizza" place settings look artistic--more than that, this evening was spent with my brother and parents with conversation and laughter (and lots of pizza!)

when my daughter uses the steam from my coffee to warm her hands in the morning...still makes me smile... "It's SOOO toasty warm!"

lots of tree-climbing--all of my kids use the trees to have a quiet space for their hearts...

paddle-boating--laughter and LOTS of geese (geese not shown...;-))

when Jack and Jill went up a hill...cousin time

water balloon baseball...no need for the catcher, D hit nearly EVERY ONE...

I love windmills.

Looking toward beauty, looking back with thankfulness

New Year's Eve marks an important anniversary for me. For my heart it represents a line in the sand. I stepped forward into the year 2004 feeling the gift of time that had been given to me.  I've gathered two blog posts that I wrote on New Year's Eve 2008 and 2013, five and ten years past my New Year's Eve of 2003.

December 31, 2008
 
Five years ago I was 25 with a three-month-old son and I was told that the I mole I had removed was melanoma. It changed my life forever. Today, New Year's Eve, is the five year anniversary of when I had my surgery--a sentinel node biopsy plus removing the area around the mole to see if the melanoma had spread. Every year since then, I start each year with profound thankfulness. Five years feels even better. 

Medically speaking, two years and five years are milestones for cancer survivors. I am thankful to pass those markers, but I also know that God is the ultimate holder of my statistics, each of my days here on earth have been numbered long before I was born.

I often ponder how different my life is now because of my cancer experience. When I had my five-year check-up two weeks ago, the doctor left the room, and I just started crying. I left the building, got in my car, and started bawling. Tears of joy. The happiest tears I had cried in a very long time. So thankful to be given another day, another year.

What have I cried out to God the most in the last five years since God preserved my life? To be able to stay home and raise my kids. To raise kids who love the Lord. At that time I only had one son. My family talked about what he would be like next Christmas at one-year-old, and I smiled outwardly, but inwardly wondered if I would be around next Christmas. 

Now, we have three amazing children. After our son, we adopted two beautiful daughters--every day they amaze me. I have been given such a great privilege to stay home with them, teach them, play with them, love them, learn from them, and be amazed at what God is doing in our family.

God allowed me to see what really mattered--I think my contentment in being a stay-at-home mom is largely because I faced the possibility of not being around at all. My life is rich. This New Year's Eve, I'm home celebrating with a cheese fondue dinner, no-bake cookies, snuggling with our three-month-old, smiling daughter, chatting with my son, listening to giggles from our three-year-old daughter, and watching a movie with my wonderful husband. This is the only place I'd want to be.

There is so much I could say about this, but I'll end with the first verse I read after finding out that I had melanoma: "Don't be afraid," he said, "for you are deeply loved by God. Be at peace; take heart and be strong!" Daniel 10:19 NLT

December 31, 2013

When my son was a baby and I would take him to the grocery store with me, gray-haired patrons would OFTEN stop me to ooh and awe over him, and then (without fail) remind me to cherish these years because they end in a flash. So very true. I hope I have honored their sage advice spoken from their life experience.

On this day, 10 years ago, I was scared to death. Early in the morning, leaving my 3-month-old son with my parents, my husband and I headed to the hospital for my surgery. Several weeks before, I had been informed that a mole that had been removed was melanoma. Since I had been pregnant when it developed, they didn't know how fast it had spread. The surgeon was removing a large chunk of area around where the mole had been as well as removing lymph nodes to check if the cancer had spread from its original site. I've journaled, blogged, and reflected about this time in my life each New Year's Eve for the last 10 years. 

Many events change a life, but this one was a doozy. And really, I wouldn't change it. I saw God's hand and felt His presence through it. It has directed the course I have taken as a wife and mom probably more than any other factor. That's not to say that I didn't battle tremendously with the fear, hurt, and anger at facing this at 25 years of age, but I see how He's used it in my life. He was and is faithful.

So today, I am thankful. I have been gifted TIME. Time to be a wife and a mom, time to be a sister, daughter, granddaughter, cousin, niece, aunt, and a friend. I don't feel like I always use my time the best, I feel unworthy and inadequate often, but always there is a thankfulness for being able to be here. The journey is not easy, but worth it. Ten years later I can say that I have continued to engage with the Lord. I may cry, question, yell, fear, doubt, and hurt at life sometimes, but I walk with Him. Not because I'm so great, but because He is. My heart's desire is to continue with Him--walking, running, leaping, limping, skipping, crawling, piggy-backing, or being cradled...whatever it takes.

The old hymn "In Christ Alone" has popped into my head. I love the whole song, but will highlight the beginning and the end...

"In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm

What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand

...From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny

No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
Til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand"

wet, bedraggled, and laughing on the Grayson Highlands in Virginia

December 31, 2015

Today is a spectacularly normal day. Bright blue skies and frigid air and temps. I will have three to four cups of coffee. I will go for a run. I will probably clean my house, I will listen to my kids chatter and play and argue and sing (Belle is currently singing a Latin Christmas song while playing by the Christmas tree), I will soak it up because it is all so beautiful. We will spend time with friends tonight and then return home to ring in the New Year. My husband will not tell me to go to bed because it is the one night a year I am entitled to stay up as late as I want. Can you tell we disagree on this sometimes?? He loves me anyway. 

My theme for the year has seemed to center around the "beautiful mess" that is life. There is nothing pristine about the days I walk in, but I'll take them, every single one of them. 

I believe to the core of who I am that joy and beauty can be found wherever you find yourself this New Year's Eve. That does not mean life is perfect, that does not mean that hardship and tragedy can or should be glossed over in a fake sort of happiness that is neither genuine nor realistic. It's just that God is good, He is active and moving, He has purpose, gives beauty and joy, and radiates love and grace into this shambled world. He has never wasted anything that I've walked through, He has been faithful and patient and loving and present through more yuck than I can say. To journey through this life with my Lord is worth it and there is no other way to do it.

May you all have a, joy-filled, beauty-infused New Year's Eve and start to the New Year!

 ...and a few shots from our Isle of Palms beach weekend...it's always a good day on the beach

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My husband and two friends have an annual New Year's Eve snowshoeing expedition that they take each year. I call it the Arctic Expedition. They had a blast this year and as usual it was very cold and very windy. Nothing has quite compared to 2013, so I pulled the blog post from that expedition below, just for fun.

Arctic Expedition, December 31, 2013

Now onto the snowshoeing excursion which was more like an Antarctic expedition simulator. 

Here's the estimated data: 

• a hike to Lake of Glass which sits at timberline (between 11,000 and 12,000 feet above sea level)

• 8 miles round trip
• pelting snow

• 13 degrees with negative 8 windchill

• 50-100 mph gusts of wind

• some gusts being more constant than gusty

With these three guys that equals FUN. More or less anyway. Shaun said at one point he physically couldn't move his leg forward because of the wind's force. Mark lost a glove that was whipped off his person to unknown parts. With the wind at their back, they could practically fly :-). Jeff shot some video because the pictures couldn't quite capture the intensity. None of them had ever experienced such wind and they would be what you would call "outdoorsy" guys. Anyway, they had a blast, with much shared laughter and a growler of Coop's beer to drink at the top. It was epic (the wives will laugh at the stories, while shaking our heads in consternation).

After surviving Antarctica, the guys drove through the flood-ravaged valley and town of Glen Haven. The roads have been rebuilt, but many of these new roads are temporarily dirt. The dirt roads show where the floods completely demolished the previously paved highway. The devastation is unbelievable. 

As they rounded a curve, the tires hit ice sending the car into a slow spin. The momentum of the spin seemed too great to even think they would stop before the front tire dropped over the edge, sending them rolling into the river below. In the moment they each were rapidly calculating how they were going to get out of the car once they rolled. But then the car stopped...less than a foot from hitting the edge. Like an angel stuck a wedge under the tire, no joke. 

Praise the Lord for His protection!

Tennessee thoughts (and pictures too!)

We are home. I have avoided sitting down to type for many days. My brain is too full, my body too tired, the task of chronicling our many adventures daunting. Two weeks ago, we were beginning our last week in Knoxville, savoring our time, preparing to re-enter our normal life, saying goodbye to new friends who quickly became beloved. As the rain poured down outside our townhouse, and the wind through the trees sounded more like an ocean, I decided it was time to journal. My editing bandwidth felt limited, hence the delayed posting, but here were my thoughts from Tennessee:

Wild Ponies at Grayson Highlands State Park...amazing. Best hike ever.

1. Time goes so fast. One month seems limitless, we pack in so much and are still left with unchecked items. Daily life takes much of our time no matter how simply we live.
2. We have too much stuff and we don't need much stuff. I brought less this time than I did two years ago and it was still too much. I'm overall very happy with my packing, but it goes back to how fast time goes. I'm overly optimistic about what kind of projects I can get done. My life is simpler here, yet at the same time, it's not home and that in itself adds time and stress to my daily living.
3. When you adventure as a family, you can't expect a pristine experience. I was talking to my husband last night and the best word I could think of to describe our time was “messy.” Not a bad “messy” but the kind of messy like you've thrown a kaleidoscope of paint colors at random on a big canvas. The kind of messy that is exhilarating and joyful and fun, and yet you get paint in your eyes and cannot rid the flecks from your hair and eyebrows.
4. This trip was beautiful, so very beautiful.

Beauty is not about perfect, sinless moments. It is unrealistic and inauthentic to place such expectations on myself or my family. We are all sinners journeying together. We hope to glorify and honor God in the messiness...accepting and giving grace, accepting and giving forgiveness, listening to each other with a genuine heart to hear and understand each other's hearts.

I often think of what really defines beauty. It certainly doesn't feel beautiful when frustration boils over to sharp and snappish words aimed toward your three goofy and slightly whiny kids, trying to re-learn how to be in each other's space in the backseat of our rental car.

But in those same moments, interspersed with the irritation and sharp words, we find laughter and awe and delight.

Those same goofy kids decide to play “crack the egg” as we drive a road so “swavy” (Belle's word) that my husband was getting car sick even while driving. 

We jam to country songs, oldies (which sadly are songs that my husband and I grew up on), and other random findings on the radio. The kids even roll their eyes but they also dance with us.

We pass through miles upon miles of Christmas tree farms, windows rolled down to smell the evergreen scented air. Not to be left out, our fluffy pup of a dog sticks her head out of the car window, plastering her Muppet fur against her head and sending us into cascades of laughter. 

We drive four hours just to cross a couple of state borders, eat a Skeeter-dog, and visit three reservoirs, scaling the last one in the pitch black darkness. (I personally thought we may be arrested, but I digress.) We attempt to capture and inhale the splendor of West Virginia's rolling mountains, the trees creating a landscape canopy studded with autumn vibrancy like we've never seen before.

We discover wild ponies and wild turkeys, trudge through rainy, foggy, wind-swept highlands, and walk under Smoky mountain waterfalls. (We do not however get stuck in Cades Cove Loop again. Don't get me started on that fiasco...lesson learned.)

We develop definite opinions on where to get the best burgers (Cookout or Steak n' Shake) and shakes (Cookout hands down!).

Grotto Falls, Roaring Fork Motor Trail, Great Smoky Mountains

the aftermath of the hike...

We read books together on mountain tops, in parks and forest arboretums, along the river banks, and on South Carolina beaches. We listen to The Chronicles of Narnia, Reader's Theatre versions, over hundreds of driving miles (and I try not to fall asleep...when I drive, I must have music). I believe good literature is food for the heart and soul. And stories read together are so very valuable.

So many adventures have been messy, tainted by our weaknesses and failings and yet as we mesh through the swamp of yuck, we arrive in new places, richer places, where we laugh together, eat together, talk together, just be together. It's just life. A beautiful life, messy and complicated, but oh so worth it.

summer moments...August collage

There is adventure in the form of climbing Mount Everest (I have a decided opinion on this form of adventure), and there is adventure in the every day nothings and everythings. I looked up adventure in the dictionary and was given this definition: "an unusual and exciting, typically hazardous, experience or activity." I may be taking poetic license, but I'd say that parenting and marriage fall under this definition more frequently than not. Just sayin'. As we slowly transition out of summer, I pulled some August snapshots from my phone. It's just life, a bunch of little nothings that make everythings. Not most people's definition of adventure, but mine.

celebrating my mom's birthday...

evening reading time...

pizza and pop on the patio with our neighbor

Spider-belle

D and Cece rocked it also, so to speak...

Princess Belle/Elsa and her patio art...I'm learning to let go and just let her grab whatever supplies she wants to create her "masterpieces." She loves anything hands-on.

The girls had a friend over and can I just say that our girls have a pretty terrific daddy. He gave them designer pedicures. And won over a few hearts too.

D and Cece each made thank you signs for our waitress when we were out to lunch. So sweet.

Ducks! We were crossing our fingers that she wouldn't go swimming with them....

Our sweet neighbors Maggie and Marge had the kids and I over for a movie (in their movie theater) and the real-deal old-fashioned banana splits complete with homemade pineapple, chocolate, and strawberry syrup toppings, and of course whipped cream, pecans and cherries on top. And, as an aside, old movies are awesome. We watched The Castaways with Hayley Mills. I grew up on her movies and they were considered classics at that point too. So fun.

Pure joy...Belle is in the shimmering splash somewhere...

This is how we ended our first day of school. The girls started this week, D starts on Monday. Still more summer left, but it'll be mixed with a bit more structure. And we'll probably still end up at the pool.