Blessings and Raindrops

seeking joy in the midst of the ordinary

“Go with the strength you have…”

It’s been quiet here on this little corner of the internet as I’ve kept up with photos and life stuff on Instagram (so that I can easily print off photo books) and have ignored this space. Our summer was a whirlwind and it felt impossible to find the time to sit down in front of a computer screen and type out a coherent thought. We filmed a lot over the summer and then had a wonderfully long break, during which Dave and I crammed road trips and summer experiences into every minute. We didn’t ease our way into the school year, instead, we just squeezed every last drop out of summer break and ran hard to the finish line.

Now, we’re finding new routines and settling in to the new school year. Summer was such a blur, it’s hard to believe almost three months passed in between the days of car lines and spelling words and reading logs.

As we approach the final round of filming for the year, I’m taking a deep breath and am excited to start these final two projects. We start filming again on Sunday and we’ll work through the first week of October filming the final two episodes for our season. Originally, we had planned to film 8 episodes – which had us finishing up in mid-July. Then, the network added on two more episodes for the season which extended our filming time but was super exciting news.

Okay. I have to be honest with you guys. At the risk of sounding like a whiny, ungrateful, you-know-what, I wasn’t thrilled when I first found out about the extension. We were in the middle of filming three episodes (which means completing three remodels simultaneously in a very short window of time) and I was ready for a break and couldn’t see the forest for the trees (is that the right saying? I’m not sure, but you get the idea). I was exhausted and burnt out from the looonnng days (and from being away from my kids in the middle of their summer. I kept thinking “we only get 18 summers and I’m missing this one!” <- I know, I know. I was being dramatic but I was running on little sleep and I tend toward dramatics especially when I’m tired) that the news of two more episodes literally brought me to tears. So, we talked it through with our awesome production team (truly, we love them so) and came up with a plan that included a whole month off starting in mid-July until now. It was exactly what Dave and I (and our kids) needed. Now, we are rested and refreshed and creative juices are flowing freely again. Because, let me tell you, exhaustion stifles creativity. Which, again, is why I’ve been silent on this space. All of my creative resources were depleted. I wasn’t picking up my camera or writing or reading or doing any of the things that get the right side of my brain pumping.

I had a nice long chat with Abba about all of this and the whole why-did-you-choose-us-for-this thing and He led me to the book of Judges of all places.

“Go with the strength you have…” {Judges 6:14}

I’ve talked about it before – I love the story of Gideon. Thank you, Jesus, for including all of these flawed humans in your Word. Because, if Gideon can tell God that he isn’t fit for the task in which an angel of the Lord told him about face-to-face (I mean, come on! How can you say “no” straight to the face of the Lord?!), then I certainly can bring my own “Lord, you chose the wrong person” prayers to Him.

I will be with you. 

I love you. 

Shine my light. 

“Go with the strength you have…” {Judges 6:14}

That’s it. That’s all He’s asking of any of us, isn’t it? Just go forth and do the thing He’s asking you to do. Shine His light into the dark world. Even in your exhaustion. Because, always, He’ll use your weakness to display His power.

Now, I fully realize my life is currently ridiculous. I’m still waiting for the prank to be unveiled and told this whole filming a television show for HGTV thing is not actually happening. But, it is. And, God’s strength is sufficient even in this silliness. And, most assuredly, His strength was sufficient when I was rocking a newborn and chasing a petrified, traumatized toddler around the house (and several parking lots- she was known to dart into traffic) or when I was up all night with newborn twins while Dave recovered from Lyme disease or when I was holding starving children in a seemingly forgotten orphanage in the Congo. It is always enough. In every season, no matter how wild or unexpected or seemingly mundane, His grace and strength and relentless love is always, always right there.

As I write this, I’m praying for whomever is reading. May you rest in the full assurance of God’s love today. No need to wring yourself out trying to understand His plan for your life. Just remember He is with you and for you and He will equip you for whatever calling He has for you. Shine His light and His love into the darkness with tenacity and bravery. Don’t shrink back from what He’s asking of you. No matter how overwhelming or possibly underwhelming (wiping little bottoms and runny noses may feel underwhelming today, but, it’s NOT. It’s Kingdom-building stuff, my friend), just step into the next thing with confidence. He is right there beside you.

Have a wonderful weekend, friends.

Small beginnings.

“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin,” {Zechariah 4:10}.

I’ve been mulling this verse over for the past couple of days, trying to wrap my mind around why it instantly grabbed my attention. I kept going back to meditate on it, slowly reading the words again and again. As I did, examples came to mind of small beginnings in my own life…times when I couldn’t possibly understand what the eventual outcome of the “work” would be. At those times, the small starting place in front of me seemed manageable even when the full scope could be overwhelming. Our adoption process, our non-profit work, our berry farm, our family travel to Africa…big, daunting processes and projects and life-changes…all of which began small.

One email and one phone call led us down a path toward our Sylvie that we never would have had the strength for had we known how long, tumultuous and uncertain it would be.

One small fundraiser started us on a path of non-profit work beginning by feeding a few dozen kiddos in a small orphanage in Congo and leading to feeding hundreds of kiddos and eventually to supporting a holistic, sustainable agricultural training center for orphaned teens in Zimbabwe. Truly, a path we never, ever, ever would have seen coming.

One land sale leading to Dave’s vision for a blueberry farm…which led to the work in Zimbabwe and a church plant and an event center…Honestly, WHO would have imagined any of it?? We aren’t farmers or church planters or event planners. We are just an ordinarily family who gathered some friends together to plant small blueberry plants in a field one summer day.

One purchase of airplane tickets for our family to travel to South Africa last year. It was such a small step but carried so much weight. It was the first step in a path the Lord had laid for healing for our little crew. A month of rest and immense joy. All of which we had never anticipated or expected. We just knew He was calling us to go. So, we went. And, the blessings were abundant.

Yesterday, as I was watching my boys confidently walk across our yard together after an adventure (proudly carrying a bow and arrow — thanks for that, Daddy), I saw it. I saw the way God led us to this place years ago, unbeknownst to us, He led us here for moments just like this exact one. When we hesitantly said yes to a move to this little patch of land outside of town, it was a small beginning the Lord rejoiced in.

He knew what was in store. He knew that this place, so unexpected, would allow our babies to have a childhood filled with adventures and whimsy and intention. A childhood we prayed they would have despite this fast-paced, screen-driven world of ours.

Years ago, we had just built our dream home in our town’s historic downtown district. It was exactly what I had dreamt of – the boys and I could walk downtown to shops and restaurants. Our friends were all close by. Then, this farmhouse came along. We couldn’t deny God’s call to move it and restore it. So, we did the small thing before us. We restored the house, never intending to move into it.

In fact, we worked on the restoration under the assumption we would rent the home out or use it for retreats or even as a weekend escape for our family. We couldn’t see past the horizon just before us – we had no way of knowing this home wasn’t simply handed over in a business exchange. It was a gift. A gift from a good Father who called us to a life of simplicity, to a new rhythm.

This house would eventually become a home representing the most unexpected life I could have ever imagined. Never would I have dreamt up a life in a small town, living in an historic, quirky farmhouse surrounded by nothing but trees and ponds and cows (and sheep). I would have never believed that a season of drought and frustration and pain would have paved the way to a season of abundance and rest and healing. This old house isn’t just a structure with four walls. It is the evidence, the physical, tangible proof, that when we open our hands and say yes to small beginnings, we are free to accept the most surprising and generous blessings.

F.O.U.R.

I’ve unintentionally neglected this space. Life has been so hectic lately and I just haven’t had a spare moment (or an ounce of spare brain space) to sit and type any words. BUT, I had to jump on here because today we celebrate our Charlotte-girl turning FOUR.

Four years old.

Time really does make me crazy sometimes, it feels like I’m currently just clinging on for the ride with days and months and years flying past at warp speed. I honestly cannot believe we have made four trips around the sun since that life-changing day when we welcomed our teeny little girl into the world.

I find myself wanting to bottle up these days right here, right now. I already know they are fleeting… I already know she will continue to grow and become even more independent and she will not always run into my arms at the end of the day and she will not always ask to snuggle when she is tired and she will not always come to my bed in the middle of the night after a bad dream and she won’t always think her daddy and I are her safest place from the world.

I know it’s inevitable. She will go out into the world and make her own way. That’s the privilege of motherhood, after all. I have the great responsibility of preparing her heart and mind for this great, big world. And, then, when these few, precious little years under my roof have passed, I get to let her go and find the path God has prepared just for her.

It sounds so simple and clear-cut.

Yet, gracious. Motherhood is hard and messy and beautiful and full and overwhelming and shaky and guilt-laden and made-up-as-I-go and full of pleading prayers and sleepless nights and nostalgia and tears and oh-so-much joy.

I can’t possibly think of a greater and more humbling calling on my life than to be a momma to my little loves. And, today, we celebrate my youngest love-bug all day long. She deserves extra donuts and a unicorn cake and presents and hugs and dance parties in the kitchen and “bacon” for dinner (her only request :)).

When I think of Charlotte, I think of sunshine and butterflies and the brightest spring flowers. Her enthusiasm for life is contagious. She loves big and cares deeply for her people and her animals. She is one of the brightest lights God placed on this earth and I can scarcely believe He picked me to be her momma. What an absolute honor that is.

Happiest of birthdays, Char-baby. You are loved beyond measure! Today, we celebrate four whole years of JOY!! 

When things change but really stay the same.

It’s funny how much has changed since I wrote these words a year ago. Yet, in many ways, so very much is the same. At the time, life was hectic from an unexpected new role as a temporary homeschooling momma. Today, life is hectic due to an unexpected new role filming an HGTV television show (I mean, I still laugh when I type those words. Life is wild).

Last year, I was lamenting the lack of white space in my days. This year, I’m lamenting the lack of white space in my days. Last year, I yearned for the lost art of lingering. This year, I yearn for the same.

These exact words from last year ring entirely true today: “the balls I am attempting to precariously balance in the air are dropping left and right. Rapidly. I am behind on returning phone calls, paying bills, responding to emails…

I’ve had a cathartic ugly cry and am accepting my limitations.

I don’t like feeling inept.

Yet, I’m leaning into the crazy idea Jesus presented that in my weakness, His strength is magnified. I am trusting that, somehow, He will use my inability, my unpreparedness, my lack for His glory.”

Our schedule at the moment is honestly just crazy. Dave and I are both trying so hard to manage this craziness while maintaining intentionality with our kiddos. Any sliver of white space is set aside for much needed cuddles or movie nights or afternoon adventures.

I’m continuing to focus on my intention for my babies. The childhood I want for them continues to be within reach, it has to be fought for, with time carved out for.

Because, for me, the answer to this question remains most assuredly of the utmost importance…

If I imagine my grown children in twenty years, sitting around a table with their friends, how do I want them to describe their childhood?

I know I want them to have warm, fond memories of long days outside. I want them to remember dirt under their fingernails and laughter on their lips. I want them to remember the sensation of sunshine on their faces. I want them to remember the affection and responsibility they gleaned from caring for animals. I want them to remember a home with vases full of handpicked wildflowers on every surface and refrigerator doors covered in homemade Picasso’s. I want them to remember a childhood framed with sweet, content moments of lingering.