godmother.

His Last Gift.

The usual calm after the storm had taken over Happy House yesterday.

Children played - fascinated with their newest toys.

Parents closed sleepy eyes and lazily flopped around the house picking at

leftovers. We had a few hours in between festivities.

We all seemed to breathe a collective and appreciative sigh for Christmas. For

each other. For Santa. For the leftovers calling to us from the kitchen.

But, the sun broke through the clouds in mid afternoon and the weather

became, simply put, too nice not to be outside.

Without thinking much about it, I said to the family -

"His last gift

is waiting for us in the back woods.."

And without further ado, the children

raced to that locale.... never asking who "He" is, and never asking what the gift could possibly be. They just took themselves there and the Hubs and I slowly followed.

Dec balanced, listened to a red-tailed hawk and used his new bow and arrow to aim and concentrate.

Nonie pointed her toes, transformed herself into an outdoor ballerina, and performed for restless squirrels and birds happening all around her.

Together, as the setting sun sparkled on the lake in the distance, we all discovered that

His Last Gift was waiting for us in the back woods.

And as I sat on the old stone wall cradling my camera, I lifted my eyes to the sun and marveled that our cup spilleth over on days like today. And, every day, really.

How could we possibly be given more, when we already have so much?

Perhaps a big part of being truly thankful, is taking the time to inventory all that we have for which we could be (and should be) giving thanks.

And how are our children not asking where the gift is right now - do they know that it is them?

And when I opened my eyes - I saw this. My angel. My beautiful Christmas angel.

I believe that our offspring somehow know what I'm just discovering as I sit here on the old stone wall basking in soul-warming Christmas sunshine:

His Last Gift,

is really

His Lasting Gift.

Of course they know this.

Of course I believe in His Last Gift,

and in so much more.

merry everything.

from the mouths of babes

Every week I give my kids a different share topic.
It's much more fun than watching them show something. Some of them bringing in video games, while others scramble in their backpack to try to keep up with the Joneses. Once in a while we'll have a "show share", but those are the exceptions, not the rules. I like to listen to them think.
This week I asked them, "What is your favorite part about coming to school". Five of them shared today. In case you were wondering, none of them mentioned me, I was upstaged.
But it's ok, because it was rightfully so.

One precious little pumpkin says she likes knowing she'll be greeted every morning. I gave myself a professional-high five, knowing that I emphasize this part of our day. It is so important to make everyone feel welcome, like we are happy you are here, and we notice when you're not.
I say this in my calmest voice as I talk over them while they squiggle and giggle during Morning Meeting.

After each sharer shares they take 3 questions or comments. One girl asked her "Well who is your best friend like who do you like to see?" I think you might know who she expected to be named but little peanut shocked us all, and I think
and I hope
that I'll never forget what she said.

"Well, I don't really have a best friend I just think of everyone as my second best friends"
and I thought, well that is so nice not to make anyone feel left out and what a great kid and look at that her two front teeth are gone clear out of her mouth and who's she going to call on next how much longer will this meeting take we've got to be next door in just a few minutes
"because God is my best friend."

Woah.
Hold up.

From the mouths of babes do we, or do we not, hear stunners.
Total stunners.

The thing was, she meant it. Completely, and with all of her heart, without hesitation. She blew me away.

So I watched her at recess. And I saw her running and playing, with second best friends, and I saw her zooming down slippery snow covered slides. And I thought how I don't think I've EVER seen this child upset. I've never seen her sad. I've never heard her complain or bicker. I've never seen her make a bad choice.
But I've seen her love and grow. And I've seen her do her work, play with her friends, answer questions in math and sing in music. I've seen her stand up for herself when she's been wronged and I've seen her rub her crying friend's back.

And as those images flashed through my head and she frolicked on the playground I thought, she could be one of the happiest people I've ever seen.

And I think she just gave away her secret.

I've got a lot to learn.

Some walls, like people, fall down.

I first saw the crumbled stone wall from the kitchen window on Sunday night.

I was cleaning Finny's bowl.

Yesterday, I decided to take Nonie for a walk to the back stone steps leading out to the trails so she could have a look at the damage.

The retaining wall had crumbled in the far corner, and large stones were strewn below the spot where our lawn connects to the forest below.

It didn't really bother me that our wall had crumbled. It didn't really surprise me either, the rains last week wreaked far more damage on other landscapes than they did in our backyard.

Back in the yard, Nonie took a good, long look.

She crouched, rested on her knees and examined the mess below.

Then, she stood up and launched toward the back steps that lead to the kitchen.

Nonie, Nonie....where are you going?

To get my tape to fix the wall.... She shouted over her shoulder.

I retrieved her. Before she made it up the stairs I brought her back to the spot and told her that tape wouldn't work. It wasn't strong enough.

When this shocking news sunk in to her spinning little mind, she looked at me with big, sad eyes and said:

Daddy will make it all better when he comes home.

I was fine that the wall had crumbled and wouldn't be fixed any time soon.

But Nonie was determined to oversee an immediate repair job.

She wanted orderly rocks and paths clear of debris.

I didn't even try to explain that the job would require much more.

Scotch tape can fix ripped paper airplanes and torn books, but not stone walls.

Daddy has the creative answers and quick solutions, but not all of them and not all of the time.

I loved Nonie's simple solutions, but some walls, like people, fall down.

Sometimes it is hard for them to get up again.

And, it takes time and real effort to "right" them. And by them, I refer to walls, and people.

To build them to a point where they are stronger than they ever were before, that takes real effort.

Tape can't do that, sweetheart. But I wish it could.

Grace. Peace. Love. Compassion. Determination. Generosity. Leadership. Courage. Loyalty. Selflessness. Vision. Hope. Bravery. How about Prayer?

?

My prayers are with Japan.

As it's meant to be

'Cause I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be....

Took the kids down to the lake this evening.

"8:00" said the clock in the kitchen as I closed the door on the way out.
"Not a school night" replied my conscience as I took the three steps down to the path.

While we walked and the kids clutched their fading flashlights,
I listened to their words get more nervous the further we strayed
from our home and the comfort of the front porch lights.

It was a beautiful night with *SUCH* an unbelievably warm breeze coming off the lake.
The wind was howling.
The clouds passed quickly over one of the largest moons I've seen in a long time.
For a while we walked in silence weaving our way in and out of the shadows of tulip trees.

We have a lot of neighbors who have beautiful wind chimes and I didn't know that before this evening.

And, for the record, the music that danced through my head while we walked too and fro on this "spring weather teaser of an evening"?

It was this song, but mostly this particular performance - which I luckily caught the other night on tv.

Incredible energy. Just like my walk tonight with the kids.


lyrics - Mumford and Sons "the cave"

He couldn't see.

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

MLK,J

Friday morning, a second grade boy woke up to find that he couldn't find anything. He couldn't see. His parents rushed him to the hospital and by lunchtime the news his teacher got was actually nothing new at all. 


He couldn't see. 


I thought about him all weekend. I prayed for him every night and when I sunk my knees into the pew yesterday morning at church I prayed some more. 


It's nobody's fault. Of course. The teacher had been telling his mom, he looks pale, he's saying he's tired. But such is the life of a second grader sometimes, no? Growing pains, and things like that.

It's nobody's fault that, of course, that the news this morning was new. 


Leukemia. 


Just like that. 


His little brother moved around my classroom quietly this morning. His grandparent's, in school for grandparent's day, declared that they hadn't been expecting to come. 

Talk about not expecting something. 
............................................................................................................


Things get put into perspective really quickly sometimes. A trip to the doctor left me crying and agitated. Frustrated with myself and my body.

Let me just get home.


Oh, right. I can see. I am ok. This, too, shall pass. 


An email from a mom. Her daughter doesn't have anyone to dress alike with on twin day. She will bring another friend, from another school. OR ELSE. She won't come at all.


Can she see?
I want to ask. 
..........................................................................................................


It is hard, on a day like today, to be selfish. To even pity yourself at all. When great men have struggled and young children lay sick.


At our faculty meeting Father talked about the eyes of faith. 

For those time when you can't see the road ahead. And you don't know how long it is. Or if you'll make it at all. Those are the times when you have to believe.


You just have to. 


Because if you don't. Seriously. Then what?