May 3

A few years ago, I posted about my maiden experience with cleaning the washing machine filter. (It was quite the dramatic incident.) It's been cleaned out several times since then, but I fully admit that I detest doing it so it'd been a hot second since its last good rinse. 

Anyway, as Adam folded laundry this afternoon and noted that Brady's newly washed jacket still didn't smell particularly fresh, I mused that the filter needed to be cleaned. And I told him that when he was finished folding, we should go upstairs so I could show him how it's done.

A few minutes later I looked over and saw Isaac standing by the kitchen sink, holding something in a stream of hot water. When I asked him what he was up to, his response startled me: "cleaning the filter." While Adam and I made plans to deal with the problem, Isaac Googled instructions and got to work without saying a word. (I added the bit about blasting the filter with a hose, which is what he was doing in the pic. It was satisfyingly effective.) 

I love how he so often takes on the jobs that no one else wants; how he's willing to humble himself and tackle menial tasks just because he knows they need to be done. I see Jesus in the way he gives of his time to be with and serve others. So for his heart, I am so grateful. And humbled, because I may be his mom, but he definitely teaches me lessons, too.

May 2

The experience of being a baseball mom probably isn't a unique one, but it's definitely distinctive since baseball is a sport that's marked by more failure than success. And that's why it's vitally important to have mom friends with you in the trenches as the season wears on.

We're bleacher warriors. We cheer the successes and lament the difficulties not as single people, but as a unit. We're perpetually hopeful for the best, but also keenly aware that anything can happen during the course of a seven inning game so we're always ready to shout out the good plays while simultaneously addressing and then putting to bed the ones that don't shine.

We notice more than you think we do. In fact, we know far more than you'd guess about the sport and about which kid on the roster is the best choice to pinch hit and which has a wicked, Varsity-worthy curve. We know, and we sometimes share those nuggets with one another, but for the most part, we keep those thoughts to ourselves.

And we do that because at the end of the day, we're just there to support our boys; to celebrate wins and to offer listening ears after losses. So today, I'm grateful to God for the community that I've found this year in my fellow baseball moms, like Shelley and Brooke. Without them, watching games would be a lot less fun.

May 1

This picture --which was taken about 15 years ago-- hangs on a wall in the first floor of our house. It's in a well-traveled location, so I pass it numerous times each day, and every now and then I stop and take a close look at who we all used to be.

It's a snapshot of what feels like an entire lifetime ago, with baby Brady and grumpy Isaac and little girl Abby. And, of course, Logan wearing a tired yet resilient version of his signature grin. That's part of why I love this picture as much as I do despite its obvious "flaws" -- he's in it. The six of us are all together. There aren't a lot of photos of our entire family in existence and there will never be a new one, so I treasure the ones I do have.

So tonight, as I think back on and give thanks for what was and look forward and give thanks for whatever will be, I am grateful to God for the gift of photography. Because during this phase of my life, I definitely need pictures to help me remember the details.

April 30

I've been gradually replacing the plants in my hydro garden, and yesterday, I moved this happy little guy from my seedling tray to his own slot.

Most of the seedlings I've transferred thus far have been ordered online, but this one began as a seed in my kitchen window. I'm hopeful that he will continue to get bigger and produce some robust kale leaves for us to munch in the months to come.

I've said it before (probably lots of times), but I so enjoy growing plants. And I especially like watching them sprout from seeds. Seeing God's handiwork literally expand and flourish into a plant that can provide nutrition for my family amazes me. 

The world would be a better place if we could all find God in something as tiny and unassuming as a seed; if we could just see the gifts inherent in the smallest of things.

April 29

Last Fall, as her senior year began, I offered to pay for a photographer to capture images of Abby and her besties at school. I found Shelly Lambert (who is a fellow Wheaton mom), paid for a session, and left it up to my girl to decide the details: the when, the who, and the where. The session ultimately took place a few weeks ago, and today, we received a link to the gallery.

The "who" were the Sophomore year suite girls, who have been her go-to pals all throughout her time at Wheaton. The "where" was --very appropriately, I think-- all around campus. And the "what they wore" were their white grad dresses. 

The photos came out really nicely. There are beautiful photos of each of these beautiful girls. And there are numerous pictures of them together laughing and having a good time, just as they've done for the past four years. They're a gift to my Abby, of course, so she can look back at them and remember her time in Illinois. 

And they're also a gift to these very special girls who have become dear to my heart. I will always be grateful to God for Michaela, Anna, Meredith, and Ashley for being a big part of why Abby has had a  wonderful college experience. Their love and support throughout this phase of my girl's life has meant so much to her -- and to me as well. 

Good friends are great blessings. And I am deeply grateful for the ones God gave my daughter.

April 28

I laid low today. Very low. I just hung around the house by myself and rested. But I was admittedly a little lonely.

So my favorite part of the day came this evening when the boys got home from Youth Group and we were all gathered in the family room.

I asked each of them to tell us about their respective experiences at school, and they did. Isaac went first and took a while; he's always been one to ramble a bit, but we always appreciate the details he includes. Brady followed with his patented quick rundown of his activities. And then they were off to bed.

And in the quiet that re-settled around me following their departure, I had what felt like a profound thought that isn't really profound at all: I'm grateful that they share their lives with us, since I know the communication lines with teenagers are often intermittently open at best. Hearing their thoughts and ideas is a blessing.

April 27

I am super proud of this kid. (The one on the right with the rake in the foreground.)

And it's not because he's a solid player (although he is one). 

It's because he throws himself into all of his tasks --even the menial ones that a lot of kids try to get out of doing. And he doesn't just do them halfway; he buckles down and completes them to the best of his ability.

He is truly a team player, and I am grateful to God that He's instilled this child of mine with a good work ethic.

One can be a great player without being a good person, so I'm thankful that Brady so consistently checks both of those boxes.