Happy (once again, belated) Birthday, Mikey!!

When you start talking, I think you're about to turn 27 or so, so it's no wonder that 8 almost seems to young for you. But no worries -- sometimes, you still act like someone that has a few years left in the training department. =)

With your new glasses and your great ability to articulate your profound thoughts, it's been a lot of fun to watch you become the young man that you are now at the ripe old age of eight.

You're a good kid. You have a heart to grow in wisdom, knowledge, and self-control. And we're sure that if you keep asking God for these things, He'll keep answering your prayers.  We love your faith that ponders deep thoughts yet keeps it simple. When asked what you should do to get to heaven you smile and answer confidently, "Nothing. Jesus did it all."

At 8, your favorite hymn is "Jesus paid it all." And your favorite line from that song? "Sin had left its crimson stain, He washed it white as snow." Simple. Elegant. True.

When I was sharing my kids' birthdays recently with someone, I mentioned yours and she replied, "what a horrible day for a birthday." I paused and then simply said, "He brings a lot of joy to a very sad day." You'll hear more and more, as you get older, about the day that terrorists attacked our country and killed many of our people. It happened four years, to the day, before you were born. But I'll tell you this, son. I'm very thankful that God gave you to us on September 11. You're a reminder to me that God holds this world in His hands and that even though people, in their wickedness, bring destruction and pain, God's gifts are good and reflect His perfect love.

Enjoy His good gifts to you, Mikey. Remember that "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change." (James 1:17) And remember that you are a gift from God. And we are so, so thankful for you.

Happy happy birthday, Mikey. May you continue to grow into a man who loves God and loves others. We're proud of you, and we love you.

Happy (belated) Birthday, Eliana!

*I'm a few days late on writing this post. Just been one of those weeks... I'll blame it on school starting or something.*

I feel like I always start your birthday posts with some sentimental ramble about how quickly time is flying and how big you are getting.

This year is no different. You're my ground-breaker, and with that, I get a wee bit nostalgic.

Nine years. Nine years of active parenting. Halfway to adulthood. Sometimes, I just can't believe it. But then I look at you and how beautiful you are becoming and how quickly you're maturing and I have to admit that it's happening whether I like it or not.

I asked you (on your actual birthday) if you'd do me a favor and take the next nine years a bit more slowly than you have the last. You just gave me your grown-up grin and said, "But Mom, I'm not in control of the time."

You do enjoy taking things very literally in life and pointing out any contradictions in our language. Unless, of course, you are in one of your delightful yet rare silly times. You still love many of the things that you have always loved... art and animals and random facts. You're a fabulous big sister, especially looking out for the smaller children... how you light up when you see Jeremiah!

I've watched you this year step out of your comfort zone to love and spend time with a sibling who you sometimes have difficulty loving.  And I am so thankful for this in your heart.

I feel like we are on the cusp of some of life's great changes for you, Sweet Girl, and I sometimes feel inadequate and unready.  That's when I turn and remember the good and loving God who is orchestrating these events and preparing us for this path, and I'm so thankful for His patience and grace. We'll get through, Sweet Girl. His mercies are new every morning.

Keep looking to Him, Eliana. He knows your heart better than I do, better than you do yourself. And He's good and trustworthy. Keep looking to Him.

And have a very, very happy tenth year!! We love you!!

'Lijah, 'Lijah, 'Lijah

You are three years old. Well, at least you will be as of 11:59pm.  Even then, you had to keep us guessing...

Of all my kids, you are the one that leaves a big cloudy question mark in my head when I dream about all the things you might do with your future. Mostly, this question mark just drives me to pray that you use your cunning for good and not evil.

At this point, I'm the mother of five boys, but you make it feel as if I'm the mother of eight. I always say that you are four boys wrapped into one.

You are the first of my children to put a hole in your birthday cake before I got a chance to frost it. You are the first of my children to be returned to me by a neighbor. You're the first to fall into a pool unexpectedly. You are the first of my children to carry a full box of Bisquick up the stairs to me, with a steak knife in hand (and a few complimentary holes stabbed in the top. I guess you really wanted those pancakes!). You are the first to learn how to light my gas stove. You are the first to discover where I hide the lighter for the candles, and put the two together. You are the first to figure out how to rescue treats from the top of the fridge. And of this morning, you are the first to both find the hidden (up-high) paint and use it to paint my carpet, half of a stuffed dog, and my right big toe bright green.

Actually, you're not only the first of my children to do any of these things, you are my only child to do these things (as of yet, at least!) And all before turning three! Dare I wonder what next year's tally might look like?

You are responsible for 95% of my (of course non-existent!) white hairs, and yet oh, how you have me wrapped around your chubby little fingers. You are smart, quick, and quiet but also sweet, cheerful and exuberant in your love. I think you love to sing more than any other child your age that I know. Your blue-green eyes twinkle and you make my heart sing.

With all the mischief that comes with you, I am so, so thankful that God gave you to us, as our son. And I pray that as this next year grows you even more, that you will know His love and enthusiastically love Him more than all the things into which you pour your joy.

We love you, Son. Happy, happy birthday.

Happy Birthday, SammySam!!

HEY, YOU GUYS!! It's your birthday, Sammy! And "HEY, YOU GUYS!" is currently one of your favorite things to yell through the house. (Thank you, "Electric Company!")

SammySam, Dude, I love you. You are one of the most delightful kids that I know. (Please do note the "one of" in that statement. While I do have favorites, I have a collective of them. ;))

What I remember most about your babyhood is just what a delightful, quiet, sweet baby you were. You were chubby and you were late, but you weren't the chubbiest or the latest, so that's not what I first jump to in my memories.  But you were sweet and contemplative and good-natured. A dream baby, for sure. As you grew into a toddler, I remember you sleeping. A lot. I even asked your doctor about it, and he assured me that you were just growing a really smart brain in there.

And then in this past year, you really started talking. And Sweetie, when you really started talking, you REALLY started talking. And when you REALLY started talking, your entertainment value grew. Exponentially.

I love hearing your thoughts come out of your mouth. Most of the time, you just have really funny, random things to say -- like that you want to be a fireman so that you don't have to cut your hair. Or that the new baby is "Wijah's baby," and that "Wijah" is your baby. Or a number of other things that either I can't remember at the moment or that I refuse to put in a public blog post.

The other dominating thoughts that come out of your mouth are super sweet. I hear "I wub you, Mommy" randomly and often throughout the day. Or, "Mom, you are the best mom in the WHOLE world!" Or, "Good singing, Mom!" (loudly at church, with an enthusiastic thumbs up). Thank you, Sweetie. You encourage me!!

And then there's your sweetness to your younger siblings. I love how you generously share your prized cars and trucks with Elijah. And I love how you run up to me to say, "Mom, Jeremiah is SO CUTE! Can I kiss him? I want to carry him!"

I can't wait to see what kind of man you will grow up to be. Right now, I'm loving watching your kind, protective heart grow into action. Watch your daddy, little love. Follow his example as he follows the example of the One who laid down His life for him.

And have a wonderful, wonderful year. Happy, happy birthday, Sammy! We love you!!

Video: Lila and the Kids Meet Baby Jeremiah

He's (finally) here!!!

Nine days late, and worth every second of the wait!

Jeremiah Joseph

8 lbs 5 oz

20 inches

March 26, 2013

1:44am

We praise God, thanking Him for His kind mercies to us!

But the Lord said to me, "Do not say, "I am only a youth"; for to all to whom I send you, you shall go, and whatever I command you, you shall speak. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, declares the Lord ." Jeremiah 1:7-8 ESV

Happy Birthday, Honey!

So, there's this guy. He's actually pretty cute. And today he turns an age that can officially be rounded to another number that could be deserving of black balloons and "over-the-hill" jokes. But I'm not really here to tease him about how old he is getting (nor about how he robbed the cradle).

Today, I'm just... thankful. I'm thankful for this man. I dreamt about him long before I ever met him. And after I met him -- now more than thirteen years ago -- I still had no. clue. what kind of man he was. What kind of man he would be. I had no clue that God had designed, in His abundant love and provision and generous kindness, to give this amazing man... to me.

David isn't perfect. I'm really good at letting him know how very, very far from perfect he is. Probably too good at that.  But do you know what? He wants to be, and prays to be, like the One Who Is and Was and Ever More Will Be Perfect. And he embraces the truth that he's not perfect... and that Jesus is perfect in his place. He is thankful for the grace and mercy that God has poured out on him, and in that gratitude, he pours out grace and mercy on his imperfect wife and children.

He loves us well, fully, generously, patiently, sacrificially. He shows me a picture of strength in my weakness. He shows me a picture of grace when I'm in need. He loves an imperfect wife in a way that reminds me of a God who loves and chose -- in full knowledge of -- an imperfect church to be His bride. David is not God, but because of his faith in God and the active work of God in his life, he shows me glimpses and pictures of a very awesome God in his very character.

And he always, always encourages and points me to Jesus when I am weak and struggling. Which is often.

So today, I thank God for this man.

Thank you, God, for making David and for ordaining his path. Thank you for giving him a love for you at an early age and for growing him in wisdom and stature over his many years. Please bless him this day and this year. May he know Your love more fully and be blessed by those he loves so well. 

Happy, happy birthday, Sweetheart. I love you.

Happy Birthday, Selah Girl!!

*Note: Yes, Aunt Danelle. I know this post is late! Sorry -- we had her "pretend birthday" a day after her real birthday. That's my excuse. This time. ;)*

Dear Selah,

For a just-turned-five-year-old that is fourth in line of what even I am starting to call a big family, you are anything but non-descript.

Some people think that you are quiet and shy... you do love hiding behind your daddy's leg or snuggling into your daddy's arms when you are in new situations or around people you don't know well.

But I know that is just an act. You remind me much of my little sister, back --way back -- when she was a kid. You're vivacious and sparkly and energetic. And loud.  You love people and have a sweet spot for little ones. You regularly fit in well with the big kids, too. But when you don't get your way, you certainly are not afraid to speak your mind and make sure that no one misses your point!

Your daddy always holds your birth up as a model for future children. You were born on a Friday (much like your birthday this year!).  I had an appointment with the mid-wife that morning, and we thought you might be making your appearance soon.  But not soon enough that I couldn't go home and walk with Aunt Charity and your siblings over to the park to play with some friends.  I called your daddy shortly after that and asked him to come home, and we headed to the birth center about 5pm. By 8pm, you were born, and by midnight, we were all back home and in bed. We had a nice, quiet, full weekend to enjoy with you at home.

What I remember about your birth is cuddling with you at the birth center, in bed, after you were born. You were so sweet and plump and quiet and content. And I was feeding you, and at one point I went to change your position. You yelled so loud that the midwife and doula came running from the other end of the building to see if I had dropped you or something. Like I said before, you know how to be heard when you don't get your way!

This next year has exciting adventures for you. You're five, now! You'll be starting school and learning new things. You're making a transition, and you'll be encouraged and growing in new ways. I pray as you grow, you'll always remember how much we love you, and that though our love is enormous, it pales in comparison to the love that God has for you. He loves you so much that He gave His Son to cover your sins, if you put your trust and belief in Him.

We pray that your life holds the peace and confidence and joy and thankfulness of knowing this truth, deep down, and from an early age. We love you and and we pray for God's greatest blessings in your life!

Happy, happy birthday, Sweet Selah!

Happy Birthday, Danny!!

Six years old!! So fun! I have a hard time believing that you are growing up so fast, Danny. Our third child...yet already in first grade, and now, reading!! (Well, a little bit!)

You're an interesting child at an interesting age.  You love life and live fully.  You're quick on the draw on some things and take your time on others.  You tend to be a very thankful child, especially if I'm taking you to see the woman that you love (a.k.a. Miss Gabby, your speech therapist).

You're generous with your hugs and kisses and you really love people.  You also love to talk and socialize... even if that might get you in trouble here and there. ;)

We love you, Danny, and we thank God for you and the sweet, unique individual that you are.  We hope this year is good for you -- that you grow more in your love for God and your love for others, that you continue to grow in self-control and selflessness, and that you are secure and confident in the fact that you are very much loved -- by us, by so many others, and most importantly, by the One who made you!!

Sixteen Weeks

Disclaimer: This post is going to delve into my contemplation of death and suffering. So if you don't want to go there, you can stop reading now.

I'm sixteen weeks pregnant, now.

Starting to feel a bit better, though I still have my completely wiped out or nauseous days. (For those who know me pretty well, I'd put money on a boy.)

And for the past few weeks, I've been feeling the soft, sweet random flutter of life in my womb.

Sixteen weeks is as far along as our last baby made it, this side of heaven. And I have to say that the last few weeks have had me thinking about that fact. A lot.

We had a regularly scheduled appointment (complete with an ultrasound) at 11 1/2 weeks. By 13 weeks, I was terrified after a weekend of a low fever that something was wrong.  Went in for an unplanned check-up appointment and was happy to see that heart beating away in the ultrasound again.

But, by a day or two later, I was battling my fears again.  I'll have a sweet day, usually while nauseous and wiped out, where I'll feel a lot of baby flutters and feel happily assured that everything is good. But then I'll have a couple busy days, not feel much as far as baby goes, and start wondering if I'll ever actually get to cuddle this little one in my arms.  I'll spend my waking moments, falling asleep moments, and random times throughout the day, concentrating on my stomach and hoping to feel something. Anything.

I find myself shying away from talking about this baby, or thinking about March and our due date, and then I force myself to push aside my worries for the moment that it takes to post something on Facebook. My sweet husband, who also lost the same baby I did, patiently, graciously listens to me as I battle.

I'd love to be able to say to myself, "Don't worry!! You're just being crazy! Of course this baby will be fine. A second trimester loss was a complete abnormality... why do you think you have a greater chance of losing this baby now then you did when you were in your first trimester, when such a loss is so much more common?"

But, the truth is, we don't know that this baby will survive.  God hasn't promised us that, for this little one (that we've nicknamed CurlyQue), or any of our other children, either.  God hasn't told us how many days I have to live or my husband or any of our loved ones.  We honestly don't know. And we don't know what caused our last little one to die, apart from his (or her) ordained days coming to an end.

So that's where I have to capture my heart and my thoughts and return them to what I do know.  I don't know what tomorrow will hold, but I DO know that God knows tomorrow.  He knew it before the beginning of time, and He has promised that His grace will be sufficient, His mercies will be new, and He'll provide for all my needs.  I can rest assured, as with each of my blessings, that they are God's, first, and that He is a good and powerful God.  I don't know His plans, but I can thank Him for the fact that no matter what happens on this earth, He will never leave me nor forsake me.  And that He has made a way for me to have eternal life and security and joy in His very presence, because of what His Son has accomplished. For me.

I love, love, love Romans 8:28-29, and I know that whatever God's plan is for my future, He is using it to make me more like Jesus, and using it to show Himself, through me, to those who He is drawing to Himself. And I want that more than anything. Because not being like Jesus? That's the problem. I'm so thankful for His grace along the way.

Happy Birthday, Wazowski!

For some reason more than most of our kids, your birthday brings back to me a flood of memories of the day of your birth. Maybe it was because my labor with you was so fast that I can actually remember most of it, instead of it blurring into eternity.  But I think it might be because there were so many exceptional aspects about that time.  You were the only one of my kids, so far, to actually be delivered by my favorite doctor.  You were the kid that waited the longest after your due date, the largest baby by far, and the shortest labor and delivery by far.  And then there were the unique tears of mourning and blessing that accompanied the announcement of your actual birthdate.

But even more than the exceptional circumstances surrounding your birth, you are becoming quite an exceptional child. We are so blessed to see so many glimpses of the profound man we see our seven-year-old son becoming.  With your mother, you are gentle, compassionate, sensitive and concerned. You look out for me in a way that makes me truly marvel at the wisdom you have in already looking to your father for an example of how to treat me, and hopefully women in general.

We love how you watch protectively over your mischievous two-year-old brother. And we love how you're concerned about what I eat and drink, wondering how it will affect the tiniest of your siblings who is yet to be born.

Most of all, we love seeing evidences of the grace of God working in you, in your contemplations and your speech and your prayers.  We love seeing you grow in love and patience and self-control as you ask God for these things.  We love seeing this because it gives us sweet hope that God is at work in your heart and your life, and that is our greatest hope for you and the greatest blessing you could ever receive.

You're an amazing son, and we thank God for you, Mikey.  We pray that this year shows you growing in peace and thankfulness and joy. We love you!!

Happy, happy birthday, Mikey!!

Elly's First Book Report

Just had to share... ;)