And Baby Makes 4

Sometimes, I like to pretend that I'm a photographer. We have two great friends who are real photographers and for one of them the way we "pay them" for our own family photos is that I attempt to take photos of their family.

On Friday, I got to spend some time with my (one of two) BFF. Britt and Matt are expecting their second child, a baby girl, due mid-March. Their son "J" is a feisty, newly turned 2 year old and I was pleasantly surprised with some of the good shots we got.

Here are a few of my favorites. I love J's face in this one...

I've started loving shots like this one, where you only see from the shoulders down. It gives you just enough info about the people to sort of create your own story in your mind.

I think J began to wonder why baby girl was not in HIS belly. Such a sweet boy he is!

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. - James 1:17 (NIV)

For some reason I have this thing about taking pictures of feet. Don't ask me why, but something about kid feet next to adult feet makes me shutter happy. Maybe it's a comparison thing because kid feet are constantly changing. I don't know. And notice I said I just like to photograph them, not touch them.

Pregnancy does Britt well. She just glows throughout her entire pregnancy. And even though Britt is several years younger than me, I look up to her in so many ways. She takes her role as a wife and mother so seriously and I truly believe that she exemplifies everything that a Proverbs 31 woman should.

And her baby bump is just precious.

I just love this awesome family and I can't wait to meet that sweet baby girl in a few short weeks!

He hears my every word

I go before the Lord and all I can mutter is, "Oh God, please God."

My heart is heavy. Broken even. And all I can say is His name over and over again. Which is why Romans 8:26-28 plays through my mind so often,

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

Because the truth is, I don't know what I ought to pray. I don't know how to verbalize the pain and hurt within my heart as it runs deeper than any I've ever known before.

So I crumple myself before the feet of the King, knowing that His word stands true and that His Spirit is interceding on my behalf according to the will of God. And I sit, saying nothing other than His name. Begging Him for intercession when my words fail me. Knowing that I could rattle off dozens of my own physical or tangible desires but the things of my heart that are the heaviest, the most broken, are those unseen. Nothing of the physical is needed for my body. Nothing tangible do I hunger for. Only Him and the intimacy that He brings in the times when I am alone.

Throughout the day, I mutter prayers for people I love as they cross my mind, "Lord, help my friend overcome that stomach bug," or "be with so-and-so as she and her husband discuss delicate subjects with family" or "help my friend as she prepares for childbirth" or "help my friend to know that YOU are provider " but of the things that weigh me down - to the point of sometimes feeling that I physically cannot stand - of those, I cannot speak.

Somedays, I just sit in front of my Bible unable to focus on the words on the page because my heart aches so much. "Oh God, please God."

It's hard. Following the Lord is HARD. Jesus never said it would be easy and I knew that. But I guess I never realized that the enemy would attack me where it hurts the most. THE VERY MOST.

And so I fall, facedown before the King of Kings, the Great I AM, The Beginning and the End, The Faithful and the True, The Hope of Glory, the Lord of lords, the One who writes the history of the world, and I beg Him over and over for something I cannot even find words for.

And I know He hears my every word.

A Modern day Fairytale An Everyday True Story

One upon a time a mother had a little boy. And though she didn't grow him in her womb, she knew that he was hers from the moment she laid eyes upon him.

He was the most dashing little fellow. Handsome is so many ways, with soft, creamy skin and the blondest hair imaginable.

He had bright blue eyes and a giggle that could bring joy the hardest of hearts. Truly he made his mother's heart grow with love each and every day.

Much to his mother's dismay, he tried to give her daily heart attacks by leaping from heights more daring than a two year old should attempt. Yet almost every time, he landed firmly on his feet and chuckled to himself with a proud smile spreading across his face.

He was stubborn and willful and tested all of his mother's patience each and every day.

But his mother prayed fervently that the Lord would use his willful spirit and strong determination for the glory of God (and also that her own spirit would make it until her beloved son grew out of his irrational season - whenever that may be).

Truly his mother knew that the Lord had created her son for a very specific purpose in mind. She knew God created this treasure to bring glory to the name of the Father and that their lives were blessed because God chose their family for him.

You see, she knew from the time her son was a small baby that God had big plans for him. Plans that she didn't quite understand. But she clung to the promises that God has so clearly revealed to her, knowing that no great blessings come without their fair share of growing pains.

Every day God reminded this mother that her son was a blessing, even on the days that seemed more stressful than the last.

Because she knew that at the end of the day her sweet boy would wrap his skinny arms around her neck, hug her tight, kiss her lips and go to bed.

And every night as she clicked his bedroom door shut behind her, with her sweet boy resting comfortably in his bed, there would FINALLY be a moment where he would STOP TALKING LONG ENOUGH TO GO TO SLEEP.

Because as much as she loved her sweet boy's company, she longed for his mouth to STOP RUNNING FOR ONE SOLITARY SECOND SO THAT SHE DIDN'T HAVE TO KNOW HIS EVERY THOUGHT EVERY WAKING MOMENT OF THE DAY.

And they lived happily ever after.

The end.

A little diddy, a little cheer and an awesome (little) dance

So, I've been meaning to dig out my video camera for quite some time because there are several new things that the kids are doing and I'd love to get them on video. Problem is I don't know which pile to dig in so therefore I can't find my video camera.

So, when all else fails, I do what anyone would do. I use the sub-par video recorder on my phone.

I know. The resolution in these STINK but you'll get the idea.

Anyway, our kids love David Crowder. In fact, they love him so much that they invited him to do a personal show in our living room.

How he loves us from The Beaver Bunch on Vimeo.

Heh. Okay. So maybe that wasn't Crowder. And maybe he was playing in front of a boxed springs that was waiting to go into the attic. And maybe his little sister was whining so much that you couldn't hear him mumbling through the parts he didn't know.

Oh well. You get the idea.


Next up, for your video viewing pleasure, is the EllaGoat. She's only 10.5 months old but don't let her age fool you. Look at who's talking walking now.

Look who's walking! from The Beaver Bunch on Vimeo.

I mean, can someone please tell her to stop it. And can everyone else please ignore my screechy, high pitched voice. I don't talk like that in real life. I hope.

3rd in line on the video reel is a little number from our oldest two girls. Both Ash and Elizabeth are participating in Upward Cheerleading this Spring (and I use the term "Spring" loosely folks) while their brother, Lucas, is participating in Upward Basketball. Last week was our first week of games. I also use the term "games" loosely.

GOOOO Upward! from The Beaver Bunch on Vimeo.

Last but certainly not least, I'll leave you with this little video by my sweet Olivia. The music is a ringtone that I used to have set as my ringtone for Luke. No lie, every.single.time. she heard the phone ring, she'd stop in mid stride and drop it like it's hot.

Clearly she has more rhythm that anyone in our house. Well, I mean, other than Luke. (I think she gets her moves from him - seriously if you click on that link - go all the way to the end. It's worth your time.)

Little O breaks it down from The Beaver Bunch on Vimeo.

Ignore how filthy my house is. I'd love to tell you that it's in atypical condition, but then I'd be lying. Don't judge me.

Y'all have an awesome weekend.

It's all in the reporting

Y'all, it snowed here again last night. Granted, it was just a "dusting" and as I sit here during naptime it's all melted away but still MORE SNOW.

Now, before you Northerners begin your comments of "Oh! We get 25 inches of snow per day and it's negative 80 degrees and I wear flip flops" let me just say,

SOUTHERNERS ARE FREAKS IN THE COLD.

I'll admit we ridiculously panic when the weather person calls for 2-3 inches of snow. With the forecast of snow looming over us, there's not a crumb of bread or drop of milk left on any shelf within a 40 mile radius of the television's broadcasting area. Schools have closed because of supposed inclement weather. I'm not even kidding.

I'm telling ya, folks. The quickest, most effective way to blow a southerners mind is to say the words freezing and rain in the same sentence as accumulation.

So today, when my Aunt posted a link to this video on facebook, I just about lost it. This lady is HYSTERICAL. Take 5 minutes and watch this.




My favorites:

"We don't know what's going on. What I do know that's going on is, THIS AIN'T COOL."

"If I was gonna deal with this kind of weather here, I coulda just moved to DC and been closer to the Obamas."

"TWO HOURS OF DUMB" - y'all, I lost it. That's hilarious.

"The Freedom Academy over in, uh, wherever it is over there in Atlanta, Georgia."

"Make sure you dressin' your babies appropriate for the weather, I don't wanna see no problems, then there won't be no problems. You understand what I'm sayin'?"

In other news....

"Stay off the crack pipe SIR!"

And, I'd like to close with my new favorite letter/blog/email closing:

"I love ya long and I love ya strong but please, don't be stupid."

~ Jessica

here to there

The hacking, wet cough echos through the house. I lay perfectly still and try to keep the bed from creaking so I can discern exactly who is making the wretched noise.

I fumble through the medicine box that we keep in the cabinet above the fish tank. 1 teaspoon of medicine fills the syringe. I shuffle back upstairs and gently rouse my red-haired girl, coaxing her to swallow.

Even in the darkness of night and the fog of my tired brain, I ask myself, "Will it be like this there too? What if I run out of meds when the kids are sick and don't have time to go to the city to get more? Is it like here where I can just run out and get more?"

Fevers plague the next day. I talk to my Mom who rushes chicken and rice soup to our aid. It warms our tummies, unclogs our noses and brings immediate relief to these nagging colds.

She won't be there. Neither will her soup.

How can I do it without her? Tears burn my eyes.

I open the package of noodles and pour them into the boiling pot. Repeat 4 more times. As the pot boils I know it won't be this easy there.

Drain the water. Add the chicken flavoring.

Nope. It will be much harder there. No Ramen noodles for an easy lunch. And sandwiches? Rarely maybe. Especially if I'm making my own bread.

It's 5:30 and Luke's on his way home already. Dinner hasn't even crossed my mind for the day. Breakfast for dinner is an easy fix. Quick. Satisfying. Easy. The frozen mist of the freezer blows in my face as I search for biscuits.

None.

I remember the book I bought at Candidate Week and grab it from the bookshelf. "I'll just make my own biscuits. Just like I'd do there. Can't be that hard, can it?"

Dang it. I don't own a sifter. Or cream of tartar.

Fine. I'll make pancakes and bacon. I grab the sack of premixed pancake mix and add water, from our tap.

"I can't use tapwater there, can I? Not for pancakes. I'd have to boil the water first. Ha! I won't even have premixed pancake mix!" I look at the recipe for pancakes in my cookbook. Yeah, that'll take more than 30 seconds to make.

Water rushes from the kitchen sink's tap. Clean, drinkable, cookable water.

here.

there.

With nearly every step of my day, I try to wrap my mind around what life will be like there, in comparison to how it is here. I can't. How do you wrap your mind around the barely known? How do I begin to understand the severity with which my world will be rocked?

It's cold outside so I make myself a chai for the ride. I grab my Bible, my Marriage study book, the keys and my bag. I kiss Luke goodbye. I drive to her house, pick up my BFF and we head to the coffee shop. Four of my Bible study girls are already waiting in our little room in the back.

I sit and soak in their presence, glad to be with my girls. 3 more walk in. We laugh. We talk about life. We understand each other. We pray.

They won't be there either.

None of it will be the same as it is here.

How will I make it? How can I go and leave this all behind?

How can I NOT go? How can I stay here knowing they are there, needing to know about Him?

Daily, often minute by minute, it's a struggle between what's here and what's there. Knowing what I'm leaving here and longing for what will happen there. Praying that He will provide the peace for what I'm leaving here and the courage to face the unknowns that live there.

And I find it not at all coincidental that the only difference between the words here and there is a cross.

here
there

Do you see that? Do you get it? Let me know when you fully grasp what that means, friends. What does that mean for you? Where is your here? Where is your there? How does the cross take you from one place to the other?

My heart aches for Africa, yearning to be in her midst and working with her people. But I mourn for what I know I'll miss. The people I love. Not the stuff or the convenience - though those things are nice.

here
there

The cross got me here. Now it's taking me there.

She gets me: a link to another crazy family

I stumbled upon a post today that resonated with me so deeply I wanted to yell out loud, "Yes! Yes! YOU GET ME!"

Click here to read about a family with NINE kids following God's call to serve in a 3rd world country.

This is one of the (many) parts of Amy's post that made me sit back and recall the promises God has already made to our family.

We have been brainwashed our entire lives by the lies of this world.

We are brain washed into thinking we have to be strong enough, good enough and smart enough and do it on our own.

We have been brain washed into thinking it's all about us.

We have been brainwashed into believing that money = security.

We have been brain washed that we can ‘control’ our lives and our futures if we make the right plans.

All lies.

Because the truth is, no matter who you are and how much money you have in your savings account or what plans you have put into place for your future- one thing you will never have control over in this life- is death.

You and I, we will die one day and there is nothing we can do to change or control that. Whether it be tomorrow in a car accident, 5 years from now from cancer or 15 years from now serving the Lord in a 3rd world country- when God says our time is over- it's over.

Radical faith people. Like Amy, I'm TIRED of being a lukewarm Christian. I'm tired of saying I believe the Bible yet only picking and choosing to live out the easy parts.

Click here to read all of Amy's post. You don't want to miss it. I promise. We've faced the same resentment, the same comments, the same rudeness and downright hurtful things that their family has faced as well. The enemy is attacking us folks, and I fear that the worst is yet to come.

And thanks to Christine at Smiles and Trials for the link.

It was exactly the encouragement I needed today. EXACTLY. Thanks God.

How Deep The Father's Love For Us

I've written before about how music affects me and why I can't listen to secular music. But truthfully, I don't miss secular music that much anyway. In fact, when I stumble upon a new (to me) song that everyone else in the free world already knows (but I've never heard) it's like walking up on a pot of gold.

A BIG POT OF GOLD. With a beautiful voice inside.

Lately, I've found such a song. And can I just tell you that I get some funny looks (and maybe a few extra fingers thrown my way) by people in other cars as our 15 passenger van slows significantly and I whole heartedly worship the King from the drivers seat. Especially when I have my eyes closed and my hands firmly pressed against the roof of the van.

Just kidding. I keep my hands on the wheel. At least one of them.

Y'all..I love this song. Love it so very much. And I love that the Lord has helped me tuck little excerpts of Scripture away in my heart so that as I sing (poorly) along with Nichole Nordeman, I can recall God's words that may have even inspired this song.

If you'd like to listen to this song while you read the words you can CLICK HERE. (It's not Nichole. But this gal's good too.) And I added the scripture in myself. You're welcome.


How Deep The Father's Love For Us

How deep the Father’s love for us,
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure

How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the chosen One,
Bring many sons to glory

{And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” - Mark 15:34}

Behold the Man upon a cross,
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed I hear my mocking voice,
Call out among the scoffers

{The men who were guarding Jesus began mocking and beating him. They blindfolded him and demanded, “Prophesy! Who hit you?” And they said many other insulting things to him. - Luke 22:63-65}

It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished

{When Jesus had received the sour wine, he said, “It is finished,” and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit. - John 19:30}

I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection

{And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.” - 1 Corinthians 1:30-31}


Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom

{He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed. - 1 Peter 2:24}

{For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” - Mark 10:45}

- Lyrics by Stuart Townend Source