Fig leaf fashion.

This summer I'm taking an Old Testament literature class. Let me just say "I'm in LOVE"!

I'm having flash backs of being in Anderson University's Old Testament Faith for Living class back in 1994 (I think that was the year). Something happened while listening to Dr. Fred Shively that year that changed my thinking. I was never one to like history. Never was I excited over all the war talk in high school history classes. And for a dyslexic student like myself, all the numbers and dates had me frustrated and checked out!!

I had thumbed through the Old Testament a time or two before... it really gave me the same impression, lots of family names, geographical locations and dates. For a young girl who was really excited about her boyfriend at the time and what she was going to wear next, I was expecting this OT class to be a YAWN! I sat in the farthest row back that first Monday morning (at 8am)! It turned out to be the only day I sat back there! Something had me hooked. I moved to the front row, had perfect attendance and aced that Bible class!

Here we are again, some 16 years later (ouch)...no that boyfriend didn't turn out to be the "one" and I'm not near as worried about what I'm wearing these days, though I've recently looked in the mirror and feared that I've been here before with these leggings and all! But for me, the black and white pages of this book are once again in color! I still struggle with the numerical dates, the B.C.'s and numbers of chapters vs. verses...Genesis 1:23 and Genesis 23:1 are NOT in fact the same thing, sigh! Never the less, these narrative stories come to life as I read them and the way the Bible is deeply intertwined is amazing. There is no other book that perfectly projects thousands of years in the future! The Old and New Testaments are filled with events that have so much purpose and pictures with incredible meaning. I'm often fascinated by the use of words and the picture image they create. Though the OT was originally in Hebrew and the NT in Greek, the use of their languages and the meanings of those words in their cultures makes my heart race. I've had my heart rate checked out and it is not anxiety! Just saying.

The first of last week I was focused on fig leaves and finding Adam some decent clothing to cover himself with. Can you just see God saying "No, no Adam. That sin you and Eve just committed, ya well you will need much more than what that pathetic fig leaf your sporting there is covering! Dude, you need some CLOTHING now...your nakedness is atrocious and no fig leaf will be sufficient!" It's just funny to me to think of that moment. It's kinda like my kids thinking they can hide behind the curtains and not be found...just because their face is covered! Never mind the feet.

It must have spoken volumes about Adams understanding of what really had happened. God knew however. Yes, He knew that ultimately these (we) sinners were in need of the ultimate blood sacrifice, the perfect covering that made way for forgiveness and grace. But till then, He made way for atonement...just the covering! So there in the Garden, He killed the first animal in order to provide a covering for their nakedness that sin had exposed. I'm still chuckling over God handing Adam and Eve their new "duds". "Here ya'll, nice try with them there leaves you got...now how's abouts going behind those bushes over yonder, put these that I've made on and model some real clothes for us!!" Wouldn't you have just loved to be there for that?

But it got me thinking about the idea of clothing. How the fig leaves that Adam proposed were so insufficient (he was "male" after all and maybe just didn't have a sense of fashion), the animal skins God originally provided were only a temporary atonement for their situation, and then much later we find Christ coming! His garments offering forgiveness, not just a cover!

Romans 13:14

"...clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ"

Galatians 3:27

"...for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ"

When we put on His skins, we are washed and made new...we are cleansed and made whole!

Christ is a healer, not a band-aide!

We can throw away our silly attempts with fig leaves and humbly adorn the ultimate outfit, Christ!

That, to me, is good stuff!

The heart beat.

I wish I had time to write all that's going on. Life in general is hectic as you could imagine. The kids activities have been in full force, speeding at rates that make me feel like I need a "40 MPH" sign posted in my house! My own studies are at times more demanding than I feel I can cram into this head. I'm in information overload most of the time.

It's taking longer and longer to figure out what day it is when I wake up in the morning...and lately I quickly assume it's a school day when I awake to the sound of my Dad at the door wanting to drop off lunch boxes. It goes something like this, "Oh Dad hey, ya we are up (now), and ok yes, it's a school day? Ok, thanks, ya I'm fine (will be soon)". I then realize we are in a huge hurry and have no time to look for everyone's lost shoe or to worry about matching socks...if its white, its a go! The daily race against the clock begins as a sprint each morning and by the time the caffeine hits the bloodstream, I'm already buried deep in my Old Testament exegetical commentary, writing an essay of the Abrahamic Covenant. Wow, that was a long sentence! And suddenly I feel a long post...

All the meanwhile, Dakota is heavy on my heart. The girl friend thing is a rude awakening, for him as well as I. He's finding out that what I told him 2 years ago is still true...girls change their minds and for no other reason but to change their mind! He acted as if it was some profound statement I had just made and asked me where I learned the idea from.

"Um, duh...I'm. a. girl. Dakota!!"

"Oh ya, right. I guess you are."

Recently he was at the dentist and was allowed to pick something out of the treasure box in their office...which is totally funny to me at the age of 12!! He thumbed through the toys and found a really cute hemp type bracelet. He decided on the red beaded one and later told me it was for his "girlfriend". Wha? You got that bracelet to give to your "friend that's a girl" (as I prefer)? I mean really...if the bracelet came from the toys in a treasure box that you dug through at the dentist, are we ready to be calling her a "girlfriend"? Anyways, I'll not continue my mental anguish over that subject here on this blog. So 3 days later (this would be a total of 5 days after they started "going out", but who's counting), Dakota felt ready to give the gift to his first ever girlfriend. He hid it in his jean pocket and asked my thoughts that morning on appropriate timing for the gift exchange. We discussed some ideas and I wished him good luck, he was nervous. And so was I. I know a few things about girls...after all.

All the way home my mind was racing:

THAT girl had better be gracious! She had better thank him and appreciate that he thought of her! I mean he COULD have gotten a green army man, or a bouncy ball, or a key chain for himself! But he didn't! He thought of her and was willing to face the awkwardness of giving it to her! And to do so knowing that the other kids might make fun of him! She had better wear it IMMEDIATELY and show ALL her friends! And if I catch wind of her being....

I eventually regrouped and stopped the mental bashing of this poor 12 year old girl that I didn't even know. Maybe she would recognize his thoughtfulness. Maybe she would thank him and be very sweet about it.

I picked him up that afternoon anxiously anticipating the 411. Immediately his face gave all indications that something didn't go well.

"um, Dakota...is everything ok"

"no"

"oh gosh, I'm so sorry, so do you want to talk now?"

"I guess"

"ummmm, okkkkk, soooo....did you give her the bracelet?"

"no"

"well, honey, why not?"

" she broke up with me!"

"She did WHAT?"

"Ya Mom, she sent her squad of friends over to my lunch table to tell me that she wanted to break up"

"Well, did the SQUAD happen to mention why?"

"yes, they said that she said that I wasn't spending enough time with her"

"Enough time with her?? Heck, ya'll are in 4 of 7 classes together...and your in the 6th grade for crying out loud, trying to get an education!"

(I looked over to find tears rolling down his face and his lip quivering)

"Dakota, babe, I'm so sorry...girls are really tough at this age, well, at any age really...actually, they are just no good, no good at all. Maybe you should just forget about them all together and just love on your Momma the rest of your life and ...."

No just kidding, I didn't say all of that last line. Just most of it.

Dakota had experienced his first rejection, and he was heart broken!

And so was I.

It was a long night and we both had shirts soaked with tears of disappointment.

We talked about it for several days and eventually laughed about ways to get revenge (not really, just to lighten the mood).

That very same week, Dakota had his first ever baseball game! We were pumped and we each gave him a few words of encouragement as we drove to the game...

Me: "Dakota, keep focused, do what you know to do, be of good character son, and have fun"

Andre: "Kota, um, hit hard"

Madelyn: (she went blank under the pressure)

Ramiro: "Dakota. Win."

The other team was at bat first, so that put Dakota's team out in field. I watched every step my child took out of the dug out...and sure enough he stopped at the pitchers mound! My heart sunk and I felt the need to begin my normal back and forth rocking motion, its how I keep calm. Long story short... he did well. But it was tough! This team was awesome and our team is...well let me get back to my point here! They lost 11-0. Dakota batted great and really did well for his first ever baseball game! He held up under the pressure and I was proud of him.

HE, on the other hand...was devastated! He got in the car and sobbed all the way home! He felt like he had lost the game for his team and nothing I said seemed to help AT ALL!

He was heart broken!

And so was I.

It was another long night.

And once again we shared tears of disappointment.

****************************************************************

That week, while out on my runs, my mind kept going back almost 13 years ago. To a little clinic in Indiana where I had just done a pregnancy test and was having my first ever ultrasound. It was a moment I will never forget. The nurse, myself and a tiny beating heart on a screen...just the 3 of us, we knew something no one else did. As I sat there in complete shock and disbelief, I remember hearing the swoosh of each beat and watching each chamber expand and contract. Time stood still as I tried to make sense of that moment.

A few days afterwards I wrote in my journal, I wanted to share it. I have it posted in his baby scrap book next to the ultrasound picture.

"I've just seen your heart beat, what an amazing thing. A heart that is pumping and using my blood to create your own. Baby, take what you need from me to be healthy. The heart I heard was the heart that will be pounding when you are born in April. The same heart beat I will feel when I hold you close to me at night. The same heart that will beat wildly when you first go to school. Your fear and anxiety will cause that same beat I heard to race. It will be the same beating heart that pumps when you are playing and moving about. But it will also be the heart that loves and breaks. Baby, I will help you learn to love and be here when you have the heart breaks. I do not know how to be your Mother, I am scared, but please be patient...we will learn this together! I love you, Mom"

I haven't been able to get that beating heart off my mind lately. I hear it in the shower. I see it in my textbooks. It follows me on my runs. I sense it in most every moment.

The truth is...what happens to my children, happens to me.

What I didn't know almost 13 years ago?

When that precious heart would be hurt...there would be 2 hearts to tend to, not one!

Just a quick note

Geesh, its been forever since I've posted here! So much has been going on...the kids school programs and events, Dakota's baseball schedule/practices, sign ups for summer sports and camps, as well as my own crazy school schedule! Seems like most every night we are off to play sports, watch sports, sign up for sports, etc. This week is the last full week of school (I'm about to break out into my ugly cry just typing it!) and so this week is no exception to the crazy schedules!

I've been writing a post in my head while running lately and I've been processing it since before Mothers Day. It's about my precious first born...my relationship with him and how recently everything seems to be happening so fast. My heart has been so burdened for him lately. Growing up is tough these days, and mothering those that are growing up is even tougher! Being a Mom is something I'm still molding into...the balance is weird. One minute they are completely dependent on you, the next you hear "Mom, its ok, I've got this". I've been increasingly aware of how vulnerable being a Mother feels! I felt it a lot when the babies were all first born...but then you get used to that role and move on. Now we are entering a new stage...puberty, sports, girls, movies/music/video games, friends, boys locker room drama, etc. I'm sorta missing the days when Dakota wanted to watch Elmocize for the 15th time that day!

Anyways, I will be back here soon with this post and some pics from recent times!

A year of progress and growth.

When my sitter showed up yesterday (bless her!) I quickly asked her how she was, hugged the little kids and then bolted out the door. I needed to run. Not walk, not warm up, not slowly get into a rhythm...I needed to be running.

Anyone who runs knows that there are those days when it takes a mile or so to get "into" the run. To get rid of the funk and get into what I like to describe as "my cyclical mode"; the pace of one foot in front of the other, the motion of the arms in sync with the legs, the lungs in peaceful cooperation as it inhales/exhales. Often I explain the feeling of running as the steady and rhythmic motion of a train. The gears and wheels become circles of motion that are in harmony together. Running (most days) feels like that to me, but it can take awhile to get into that groove. Yesterday was unusual, it was a day that doesn't happen often. A day that the harmony, the cyclical mode, began with the first shoe strike on the pavement. It almost makes me giddy now to think of it!

I have been running a 6.6 mile route recently that has a 1/2- 3/4 mile section that is STRAIGHT UP HILL! And yes, I mean some serious incline! I usually run the entire section, but by run I mean at times it is a very very slow jog. It is the longest section of the route and at times I have thought I would never get to the top. Well yesterday I began to see some significant progress. Not only did I keep my normal flat terrain pace, I wasn't huffing and puffing for air plus my legs weren't burning from muscle fatigue! I almost felt as if I had run through the mountain and not up it!

As I was finishing the last mile (an hour later), impressed by how easy the run felt...I got thinking about strength and endurance. About growth. About time. Consistency. Perseverance. Mountains and valleys. Trials. Pain. Sweat. April 2009.

This time last year, most days felt like my first several attempts up this street, shear torture. Most days felt like I would never make it to the top. They were full of pain and fatigue. But now, a year later...those days are few and far between. Like yesterdays run, I now see significant progress. Time is doing its work. Consistency is paying off. Strength is giving way to endurance (or maybe its the other way around) and I see the growth. These days I almost always sleep well, the deep sadness only pops in briefly, there's laughter and joy in my house again and I see a new normal finding its way with us.

I'm incredibly proud of my children. They have weathered some tough storms. They have had many transitions to make and emotions to process. But they've done so well and I just can't think of a better bunch of kids! I told Dakota so last night. I felt he needed to hear what an awesome job he's done this year and how proud I am of him.

I would love for "life" to feel as easy and harmonious as my runs. Like an engine that can maintain its speed, composure and strength in all circumstances. It's a bit unrealistic I suppose. Life has it's mountains and valleys and at times there is nothing easy about it. Sometimes its just flat out brutal. But I'm thankful today for the times when progress can be felt and the days are almost always easier. Oddly, I'm also feeling a deep kinship to the verse in James 1:2 that says "consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds." More on that later...

Take me out OF the ball game...

First week of baseball:

Madelyn vs. bleachers.

It didn't go as she had planned.

However she wanted to watch her "budder" play ball, so she did!

But of course, with a dose of Maddie drama.

Dakota vs. baseball.

It didn't go as he had planned either.

You might find it interesting to know,

the glove was in front of his face

at the time in which this happened.

We are still scratching our heads.

Dunno.!?&$?

What I do know is this:

-I've worried about this moment all his life. I've played it through my mind a million times. My child hurt out on the field, me in the stands. And I would like to report that I DID NOT go running out onto field until I was motioned to come.

Um yes, Thank you.

-I have never seen my son in so much pain before. And I never want to again. But, somehow I feel silly to even speak/write those words...he's still contemplating whether he will play for Alabama or Florida. I fear this is just the beginning. *sigh*

-I'm now afraid of the ball. He is not.

-I have PTSD. He does not.

-I'm nervous about him pitching, hitting, catching, running, sliding or sitting in the dug out.

He isn't nervous.

-I'm not sure the swelling and pain in my heart has gone down yet.

He's getting better by the day.

-I'm ready for the season to end (it just started). He wishes it would last forever!

-Dakota has been ready for sports going on 12 years now.

Mom still isn't ready.

"Maddie honey, can Mommie please have the ice pack, please? Her head is spinning."

OCD. Nope not me. I'm cured.

There was a day (yesterday)

when this would have thrown me over the edge!

Actually, I would have just jumped.

I worked hard to list all my assignments for the week

and then to designate days for each to be done.

What any good and conscientious student would do, of course.

But instead of jumping...I'm sitting calmly, not hollering or scolding anyone.

I'm proud, this is progress in my world.

Am I disappointed that I let Miss Madelyn sit at my desk? Yes.

But will I re-write it? No.

(though I considered it for 32 seconds,

and I will cringe as I mark each box...

and speaking of boxes,

ya'll hush over my boxes,

leave them alone!

You just don't understand how hard it is to live in this head!)

Anyways, where was I?

Oh yes, perfectionism...

I don't have time for perfection anymore,

It's been traded for "it will do".

* feeling faint, I need a cold rag and the couch*

I just wanted to applaud myself for progress,

though small it may seem to some.

I like things to be a little on. the. organized. side.

I like my papers unfolded and nicely stacked.

I love color coding and label makers.

Oh, the list could go on and on...

but I think I'll stop with those 4,

I love round even numbers after all!

So the destruction to my check list was an opportunity to practice something new.

A moment when I could have chosen to flip.

Instead I am choosing calm.

And actually it feels good, I think I'm cured!

Ok, well I must get off here now,

the boys will be here soon enough and

I need to get my highlighters organized...

in rainbow order!

And I love Budders (brothers)

Community baths:
It's not a thing that usually happens around here, the kids are starting to get a bit big for the community bathing experience! Questions arise that I have no real appropriate answers for, so I opt for the more controlled, one at a time, in and out showers for the little kids.

However, this particular night we had just made it back from Atlanta where the kid transfer happened...from Dad to Mom. After hours of highway driving, I was in the mood for maximum results with the least amount of effort. They were in the mood for fun!(the suction shower mat makes for an artistic backdrop eh? excuse that.)

These 2 pictures of Madelyn are for my sisters' benefit...no the sports-vest jacket wasn't part of the original ensemble for the princess dress, but when you have a girlie-girl who lives with a bunch of brothers...this is what you get!

That night after the bath pictures, I tucked Maddie into her bed, did our usual " I love you this much, this big and this high" and "I love you more, no me more, no me the most-est" etc. As Maddie rolled over to snuggle her life size horse and lovie, she says from behind her passy, "and I love budders". I could have just eaten her right then and there!

It's good to have all my children back home and to feel the love and laughter as it fills the air!