They love stopping at this particular bench, and more often than not, when we do stop, one of them will chirp take our picture!. So I do, because they're all changing so fast that I know some small detail about each one of them will be ever-so-slightly different come tomorrow's sunrise. And it's a blessing to be able to look back and remember through images.
It reminded me that although sometimes we face dark, trying times, the sun still shines on our lives in one way or another... even if we can't see it.
It's almost too simple, but that's what I've got!
Sky shots are a dime a dozen so I don't expect anyone to find this one particularly extraordinary. But that doesn't mean it's not special and unique in its own way. At the very least, it provided a stunning close to the day.
And more often than I probably realize, that's enough.
Moments after I arrived home from back to school night (and an unplanned trip to Costco) tonight, I shuffled into the kitchen and found this:
Leftovers. I quietly chuckled over the irony of leftovers, because I kind of feel like a plate of leftovers; like I'm whittled down to some residual parts that aren't necessarily my best bits and pieces.
But then I saw the deeper message in that pot of mac and cheese. Yep, I'm worn down. More often than not, I feel like my family doesn't really get the best of me. But the good news is that God can use even leftovers for good. So even though I'm pooped, I can still make an impact, if I'm open to the possibility.
(And you know something? The mac and cheese wasn't half bad, after all.)
I love a lot of different things about each of my kids. When it comes to Isaac, I adore his enthusiasm and his desire to experience new things. I really loved it when, as we sat at the dinner table following the first day of school, he exclaimed I love learning! The way his little heart overflowed with excitement made mine surge with love, pride, and gratitude.
It was just a regular old PE class, yes, but seeing him standing there, relishing every second of yet another fun new experience served as a good reminder that we should all approach living with that kind of gusto and joy -- even when life isn't particularly thrilling.
But one of my favorite moments of the day came this evening.
While we were at the cabin a few weeks ago, the kids discovered a love of the Game of Life. We don't own it here, but Abby came home and downloaded an app so she can play a computerized version on Adam's tablet. This evening after we got home from the store, she plunked down on the sofa and started a round. I sat with her and watched as she played: I watched her laugh as she taunted her computerized opponents and celebrate as she scored good spins.
Although life is most definitely not a game, it was good to see her enjoying herself and taking risks on the wheel, even when they didn't pay off. Because as our pastor said on Sunday, sometimes, God wants us to do those risky things.
It's essentially a butt-shot, yes. But it's also a re-creation of a very similar image he took five years ago as I walked Abby to kindergarten.
So now we have one from her very first day of elementary school, and one from the first day of her very last year of elementary school. It's kind of poetic, I think.
And it's definitely a reminder of what a blessing it is to be a mom. There's nothing as amazing and awe-inspiring as watching my kiddos grow and learn.
Abby's been a nail-biter for a number of years now. Honestly, I'm not sure when she started the habit, but in recent times, she's routinely bitten her nails down to the quick and even drawn blood a few times. Around the end of the school year, she was admiring my nail polish collection and asked if she could have some. I said sure... if she could stop biting her nails.
And she did it. As a former nail biter myself, I know how hard it is to kick that particular habit, and I'm so proud of her for taking the challenge and getting it done. So tonight, in honor of the start of her last year of elementary school, I painted her nice, long, pretty nails a glittering light pink.
I'm thankful to God that she's growing up and maturing.
It was a blessing to see the four of them running together, laughing as they bobbed and weaved their way along the path. That's the sweet.
But at the same time, Logan's absence made the scene decidedly less rosy. I tried to imagine him as part of the group, giggling and dodging and tagging with his little brothers, dad, and best bud. I stared for a long while, trying to see it, but I didn't until Abby's pace slowed and she fell behind the pack. Then I saw him beside her. I squinted until my mind saw him grow taller than he was when his spirit flew away Home; tall enough to comfortably fall into rhythm with his big sister's pace. And I closed my eyes and watched them walk together for a few stolen seconds.
It was a nice sight, but I know it wasn't real. But I'm thankful that one day, because of Christ's sacrifice, it will be.
So onto today's image.
There were plenty of nice moments today. There was the "Share a Diet Coke with Logan" bottle that my friend in Texas posted to my Facebook wall. There was the sight of Abby cutting up her own enormous pancake at brunch without so much as a whine or whimper. There was the annual trip to see the full class lists for the year and the requisite photo opp that accompanies said excursion. But it was this hot rod that grabbed my attention.
It was parked in the lot outside our brunch spot, and the second I saw it, it practically yelled "TAKE MY PICTURE!" I've said it before, but Logan loved cool cars. And he really adored flame jobs. In the back of my cobwebby mind, I can still her his precious little voice enthusiastically declaring "look! It has a flame job!"
I'm thankful for this cool car. I'm thankful that I saw it and that it helped to temper just a granule of the pain I feel over Logan's absence.
I went to watch some college friends play a game this evening at the local sports park. The temperature was comfortable, the air was clear and I got to just sit and watch as the sun slowly dipped below the trees as the game progressed.
Those quiet moments when I get the chance to just sit and quietly admire nature are pretty darn awesome.
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It's just a little pile of tree bark that I passed on the sidewalk as Abby and I were taking an evening stroll. But it's also a sign of new beginnings; of stripping away the old to reveal something new --and usually better-- underneath.
It's a good metaphor for both the beginning of another chapter in the kids' school books and for life in general. I'm thankful that God created us with the expectation that we'll grow and transform into more beautiful creatures.
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After an evening shopping trip, he was eager to help unload the car. With few lightweight items available, I gave him this big package of ground beef to carry. As he huffed and puffed his way from the street, up the sidewalk and to the front door, he gave a running dialog.
I'm so strong! I'm getting really, really strong!
I turned around and looked at Adam, and we shared a smile over our little guy's determination, work ethic, and overall adorable quotient.
Sometimes, a single, smile-worthy moment can make an otherwise unremarkable day feel utterly worthwhile and special.
The rest of the day, we gathered classmate information and, well, just hung out and watched "Power Rangers."
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The first image of this series featured just me and Brady. As soon as he heard the shutter snap, Isaac exclaimed "hey, I want to be part of the picture, too!" and cuddled up behind me. So I took a few more.
All of them are blessings. Abby is, Isaac is, Brady is, and Logan is. They're all different and wonderful and unique, and I celebrate and cherish those differences that make them who they are.
But I love it when they just want to come together and be my little cuddle buddies.
Then we visited the Berkeley Rose Garden before stopping to take a gander at the city (San Francisco, for non-locals) and the Bay from Grizzly Peak Road. Then we finished up with dinner at the Cheesecake Factory before we swung by the in-laws' house to pick up the kiddos and head home.
It was a really nice day. It's always rewarding when we get the chance to just be together without the kids. Of course, we love them dearly --as I noted one year ago today, they are the four best things that have arisen from our marriage-- but it's such a blessing to have some uninterrupted us-time.
They were fully immersed in a rousing game of Duck, Duck, Bear-Bear.
They were having the best time together. The tag-er --in this picture, Abby-- used Bear-Bear to tap the Little Boys' heads as she rounded them over and over again. And as Bear-Bear tapped said heads, Abby didn't just say 'duck, duck.' Nope, she made up completely random words that had all three of them in stitches.
Anyway, it was good to see the three of them getting along and playing together because so often, someone is left out. So for that small miracle of unity, I'm grateful.
It was a beautiful day and our surroundings were a picture of serenity, so I took a lot of photos as we strolled along. I could have used any of them, really, but when I scrolled through my slideshow, I kept coming back to this one. There's just something so stunning about it -- about the intensity of the contrast and color. And of course, there's the symbolism of Adam and Brady walking out of the darkness and into the light, too. Maybe that's it. Or maybe it's because at some point as we walked along, I heard Brady ask Adam if the trees in the forest reached high enough into Heaven to allow Logan to climb down. It means everything that he thinks of his biggest brother, even if he doesn't really remember him.
But regardless of the reason, it reminds me that we had a pleasant time together, and that's a blessing all-around.
As the trail turned uphill, I asked Adam if he was sure that it was an "easy" trail. He said he thought so. And he was, as it turned out, very wrong. It was rocky and craggy and steep. More than once, I found myself, near tears, begging God to guide my feet. For someone like me who doesn't like heights, it was a scary experience. But we made it. And the view at the top was spectacular.
(That's me, in the lower left corner, climbing up what was essentially a row of boulders to get to the top.)
There were plenty of tears (mine), complaints (mine and the kids), and falls (mine) along the way, but the important thing is that we made it. It was a much harder trail that we ever imagined, but we made it to the top and got to see 360 degrees of incredible views. If we'd settled for a vista point earlier on along the trail or gotten discouraged and quit, we would've missed the best part of the journey.
The analogy to our family's life isn't lost on me. Things started off beautifully. Then we had to persevere through a nightmare --not sure we'd ever be able to make it-- and came out on the other side. I won't say we came out on top because we didn't; there was no way for us to truly come out on top. So in that particular way, the analogy falls short. But we made it --we survived after Logan flew away Home-- nonetheless. And sometimes, it's important to remember that accomplishment and to take some time to enjoy the view.
Adam and I haven't communicated well since Logan died. We just don't talk much and when we do, there isn't much depth to the discussion.
But today, it was different. We had a few hours to really chew on a topic; to share how we felt about it and to see where our thoughts intertwined and diverged. It was nice. It reminded me of simpler times before everything went to pot; of why we were drawn to one another in the first place. And it gave me hope that things will be really great again some day.
I had the distinct feeling that I should go and talk to this man. Initially, I resisted the feeling, but it persisted. I asked God to tell me what to say, and the words our pastor had spoken during a recent sermon came back to me: to paraphrase, be open to doing God's work to touch someone else's life and God will turn your efforts into something special.
So I got up, walked over, and said hi. He smiled a big, almost surprised smile and said hello. And we chatted. Without me prompting him at all, he said --several times-- that he's just happy because he's alive. His health isn't perfect --in fact, he had a big gauze cap on because he recently had cancer removed from the top of his head-- but he lives joyfully and considers every day a blessing. He told me about his wife (who was off shopping in the store while he people-watched) and his kids and how he'd lived in nine states over his 87 years.
When the kids had finished their drinks, I told him that I needed to get moving, and he again smiled. And he told me that he'd very much enjoyed the conversation. And he thanked me --very genuinely-- for stopping to say hello.
I don't know if he got a lot out of our interaction, but I did, because his joy was contagious. And I'm very grateful that Richard and I crossed paths, if only for a few minutes.
This evening, I took a solo shopping trip. I was walking through the gardening section of the store and happen to look down. And when I did, I saw this:
It's the sweet, lovable Lambie from Doc McStuffins. She was completely out of place, and I laughed when I saw her. And of course, I stopped and took her picture because it was just too perfect.
Because that Lambie reminded me of our Lambie. Logan loved his Lambie so much and Lambie was his constant companion til the very end. Seeing that Lambie reminded me that Logan is out there, and since I have no real conception of how time works in Heaven, he could well be 'found' in surprising places.
The Little Boys were completely taken with baby Ari.
Of course, he's a sweet, calm, happy boy who didn't so much as whimper as we passed him around, so I think we were all taken with him. But I was particularly struck by how Brady and Isaac (and Abby, really) wanted to spend time sitting with him. They held his little hands and played peek-a-boo and smiled at him and made googly eyes. Isaac was so inspired by the experience that he asked us if we could stop by Babies R Us on the way home to pick up a new baby. (Yup. He did.)
It was touching and it did my heart good to see them so enchanted by Ari. It brought back sweet memories I have of Logan cuddling and snuggling with Brady in his hospital bed when Brady was just a few days old.
So for those memories and for his siblings' affection for the most fragile and helpless among us... I'm thankful.
I'm not entirely sure who did the actual baking part --I'm guessing Adam did most of it and she assisted-- but she did the decorating all by herself. And I was impressed. They looked nice, and tasted really good. And I know she was proud of her effort, because she was eager for everyone to try one.
I'm grateful that she decided she wanted to made something and then went ahead and did it. She's growing up, and as I've noted before, that's a good thing that I won't take for granted.
That's Brady, wearing the outfit he picked out for himself this morning. (Okay, it may have been this afternoon.) I think it's just precious how every single time I've let him pick out his own clothes over the past nine months or so, he's chosen that old pair of overalls. It could be 100 degrees or absolutely freezing and he always he wants to wear those denim overalls. No matter what.
Life is often unpredictable, so his little doses of predictability are super sweet to me.
Anyway, this happy little patch of volunteer flowers made me smile. And sometimes, a God wink for me is just something as simple as that, with no strings attached. After all, I think everyone deserves to be amused by something incredibly simple and plain every now and again, especially if it's something that we might otherwise overlook.
After we ate, we popped over to Toys R Us, just because I felt compelled to look around. While driving, I saw yet another Vette. And then when we arrived, we came across a virtual mother lode of Cars.
I mentioned to Abby just last night as we wandered through Target that I was sad that I hadn't been able to find any new Cars in quite some time. I figure there's a reseller (or two) in the area who swoops into most of the stores and buys up the new ones as soon as the cases are unpacked. So it was overwhelming to find an entire collection of new ones that we'd never seen before. After loading up on Cars, I checked the Hot Wheels aisle just because, and came across not just one but two new Corvettes. If all of that weren't enough, as we walked to the register to check out, we passed a bin of iPod covers that were marked down a whopping 95%. Right there on top of the heap was one that featured Lightning McQueen. So of course, it came home with us.
It's just stuff. I admit that. But it's also a blessing to have such tangible reminders of my Sunshine show up in such impressive numbers. It makes him feel a little less far away.
Oh, and on the way home, I saw another Corvette.
So this morning, I was gratified when I looked across the room and saw her sitting right next to Isaac as they watched TV. He had an arm on her stomach, and she had an arm around his neck. And they just sat there... being. I tried to be stealthy, but she noticed as I approached them with my phone poised to snap a shot, and suddenly pulled away. But at my request --and insisting that I never, ever acknowledge the photo's existence-- she allowed me to take this:
It made me smile to see them together; to see them acting like good buddies rather than near-mortal enemies. Those moments are so rare for Abby that I cherish them: I package them up in pretty little boxes and store them in my heart to open again and again when times feel tougher than I'd like.
So for peace and harmony and genuine friendship here on the homefront, I'm thankful, for peace and harmony and friendship are most definitely part of God's great design.
But seriously, I really cannot stress adequately enough how much it means to me to be able to watch my kiddos when they sleep; to see their little chests rise and fall with each breath and to quietly, lovingly note how their eyelashes fall against their cheeks.
Brady had a particularly tiring day, so he conked out on the family room floor this afternoon with his good buddy Bear Bear. The sight did good things for my heart, so (after I took Bear Bear off his face, of course) I left him right there. And I watched him peacefully sleep for a little while.
Summer is winding down. And this girl right here will be in fifth grade --the last year of elementary school-- when school starts again in just three weeks.
It's a huge blessing to see her playing with such carefree joy. She's growing up, but she's still my girl.
Of course, we all see different images when we look at clouds. And many times, what we see is directly influenced by our experiences (like Abby's circus animals). But sometimes, I think they're also sweet little messages from God.
After all, we can all use a little more love in this life.
When Logan was about 3 years old, he was very popular with teenage girls. There was just something about his big smile and vivacious personality that got their attention, and more often than not, they fawned over him. And he ate it up.
As it happens, his littlest brother has a similar effect on the ladies.
Here's Brady with the preschool helpers at Vacation Bible School. It wasn't hard to tell that they adored him. Every time he arrived, they were quick to welcome him. And every time he left, his departure was met with a chorus of bye Brady! and, oh, he is just so cute to one another. And he responded to it in the same way as his biggest brother: with a big smile. And an observation -- I don't know why the ladies always love me.
All silly vanity aside, seeing so much of my Sunshine in my Muffin... absolutely priceless.
