moments with george...

i love the name george. have i ever mentioned that?

well, i do.

my first experience with a george was a huge st. bernard, who sloppily and happily loved me when i was 5.  george was also a girl.  i loved, loved, loved going out to the farm and seeing her.

and one day, she wandered off alone and never came back.  lyla was given a stuffed st. bernard  puppy when she was only a few months old, and the first word out of my mouth was "george".  of course, as lyla has learned that she can name things herself, with the name of choice lately being "lyla", this puppy, in *my* mind at least, is george.  helps to keep some of the memories i hold dear, close.

i always wanted an "uncle george". no idea why...i just did. having never voiced this request, it wasn't until i met my great-uncle george that this wish was realized. from the first moment we met, i loved my great-uncle george.  and he loved me.  he always made me laugh, always made me feel cherished, even when i couldn't get my grandpa's VW up the hill because i couldn't figure out the clutch.  he just smiled patiently in the car behind me and cheered when i finally, fin.a.lly, after 25, yes, *25* attempts, made it.  (did i mention that i lived on the flat, flat prairies most of my life, which meant i learned how to drive on the flat, flat prairies??)

the name "george" always makes my heart grow soft.

last night on the couch, sandwhiched between 2 freshly bathed little girls who couldn't seem to get close enough as they waited for their new movie to start, i forced  myself to stop thinking about everything i *still* needed to get done, forced myself to memorize what it felt like to have little arms and legs trying to entwine with mine. sweet, pudgy hands playing with my fingers. soft kisses placed with the utmost gentlness on an owie on my hand.

i forced myself to embed each moment in my mind because i know there will come a time when the movie that is eagerly waited for won't be "curious george", the entwining fingers will be reserved for the boy that is liked, when my home will be empty, save the echoes of squeals and giggles in my memory.

so, i hold on.

and i don't feel silly as my eyes fill with tears over a cartoon monkey who amazingly no-one appears weirded out by.

one of my sisters posted a quote today on her facebook from max lucado:  "if God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it."

i look at my own fridge, filling up with the pictures lyla brings home each day from preschool and the joy that her art brings me.  "really?" my heart seems to ask...how could the God of the universe feel that way about me?

and it hit me tonight as again, i snuggled with my oldest little one and played with her hair as she fell asleep; He watches over me.  He finds joy and great delight in me. i'm not being tucked into His memory for future muzings, i'm engraved on His hands.  His involvement in my life isn't to prepare me to leave His safety, His involvement is to prepare me for eternity with Him, where the air will be filled from the echoes of my thankfulness for loving me, for choosing me, for making me His own.

from an old dog, to a dear man, to a cartoon monkey - i love how all three have pointed me to the One Who has willingly walked the highs and lows of this journey with me so far.

and if i am going to be completely honest, there is a small part of me that hopes when He trades my old name for my new one, i'll hear His voice whisper...

"george."

happy 35th birthday...

i love who you are.  how much you take joy in being a daddy.  i love that 9 years of knowing you have allowed me to see deeper and deeper into you heart.

and i'm more in love with you now then i have ever been.

you are a man of integrity.

a man of passion.

a man of conviction.

a man that i feel safe confiding in...

sharing my life with...

raising my children with...

35 years ago, you took your first breath. but really, 35 years ago, my greatest gift was born...and i didn't even know it.

i love you.

He sings over me...

i have always loved music. always.  doesn't mean i've always picked the greatest genres to listen to, but regardless, music has always moved the deepest parts of my soul.

might be one of the reasons why this verse stopped me in my tracks years ago and has encouraged me more times than i could ever say.

and it is why, over the past two days i haven't been surprised when He used two of my sweet friends to both send me two different songs with specific messages dealing with my present circumstances.

i can almost hear His voice in the music...

let Him sing to you too.  it's His delight...as are you.
*just remember to pause the music on the right:)*



and...

home is where *He* is...

where my oven begs to start baking warm, comforting, home-y foods that will emit aromas and embed themselves into the memories of my children and remind them, when they are weary adults, of the safety of home.  of being taken care of.  of being loved.
when i draw up my blinds so that little noses and hands can press themselves against the cold glass and gaze in wonderment at the snowflakes making their lazy, crazy, graceful fall to cover the unraked leaves.

when my home suddenly grows cozy and glow-y and fuzzy around the edges.  when candlelight adds its own flickering ambience...when snuggling up with a good book, or two and a cup of coffee is as close to heaven as i'll ever get while i still breathe the cold, crisp air down here.

where i wake up in the middle of the night to hear the strong, north wind whip itself into a frenzy over the cold, hard prairie fields that are now quiet until spring, begging me to snuggle deeper into my warm cozy bed...reminding me i'm safe.

it's that time of year again when my home becomes, quite literally, the place i run to find shelter from the cruelty of the elements.

my little yellow home is my haven.  my safe place.

these four walls surround my dear family from the scary, from the cold...the dark.

but it also surrounds and protects from the uncertainty, the worry, the *what-ifs* that seem to surround me and those that i love.  i'm facing an uncertain future.  i'm surrounded by the swirling air of anger, by words spoken in haste, fueled by passion, love and hatred of what isn't understood.  my community that i love so dearly is facing it's own bitterly cold winter and i find safety, i find refuge, here in the midst of my childrens laughter, my husband's sweet smile, the Bible that has inched its way over my nightstand until it is now gripped in my hands as i fall asleep.

this morning i picked up a incoherent lyla from preschool.  her teacher told me that she began falling apart 10 mins before i picked her up.  i took her, sobbing, from the building, back to the mom's group i meet with weekly, unable to coax out of her what was wrong.

then, before supper, in the home that i did most of my growing up in, the home that for my most formative years was a refuge for my confused, searching heart... in the room that my gramma spent her last few weeks, i crawled up onto the bed and pulled lyla close.  and there, i found out that during show-and-tell, a little boy had told her that her precious and tattered map that her gramma had given her was *weird*.

she was devestated.

she didn't understand how he couldn't see, just from looking at this taped and re-taped piece of paper, the pricelessness of it.

he didn't understand that it wasn't the paper, it was the love of the giver that made this paper so precious.

my home is somewhat similar...the outside has seen better days.  most people have no idea why i love my home so much.  it's been patched, scraped, neglected and yes, at some points, even loved before i ever moved in...

but my love for my home stems from the love of the One Who gave it to me.  He knew how i had prayed for a little yellow house.  He knew that i had always found these houses charming, He knew that on a quiet little street, in a quiet little town, i would need this place of refuge.  He knew it would bring healing to my soul.

and as i find refuge here, i also trust my Jesus to help me make it into a refuge for my children, for my husband, trusting that as the days grow darker, colder, they will find His warmth in the heart of our home...

other memories...

..are filling my heart today.
besides the typical, "8 years ago today, i was trying to get the dirt marks off of my train before i went to the church to walk down the aisle and become your wife."

no, today, my heart is filled with memories of the very, very beginning of us.

do you remember when you sat next to me during the evening service?  you held the hymnal between us and proceeded to sing in the highest voice possible.

if i hadn't had been so nervous, i probably would have laughed out loud...

do you remember coming up behind me and asking if i was feeling well after a chapel that i had slept through on the bench?

do you remember telling me you liked my hair as i worked in the humid and hot dish room?

do you remember that you were wearing a yellow and blue striped shirt the day i not-on-purpose-at-all followed you from one building to the next?

do you remember?

do you remember the anticipation of that first phone call?  my heart was pounding, my hands were shaking, i was terrified you would forget to call...

you didn't.

do you remember that moment in the field, placing your toque on my cold head, and then meeting my gramma?

do you remember raking leaves?

going for coffee?

playing "idiot"?

going for donuts?

the first "i love you"?

the first time you touched my face?

the first time you told me your name was actually "tony" and not "anthony"?  goodness, i still can't get over why that was such a shock...

oh tony.  i don't want to forget.  i don't.


every moment that led up to this day 8 years ago is locked away in my heart, kept safe...kept hidden.


i cherish you, not just because you are my husband.  i respect you, not just because Jesus asks me to.  i love you, not because of what you do for me...


i do all of those things because of who you are.

and who you are is more than i ever dreamed of, hoped for, prayed for.  who you are is exactly who i hope our son grows up to be like.  who you are is exactly the type of man i pray our daughters marry.

i love you.


i love you.


i love you.


happy anniversary, my love...

yes baby, yes you did...

but that's okay, i can handle it when i'm rewarded with your smile-ly face.

13 weeks have passed by in a blur so quickly and as cliche as it sounds, i really can't imagine my life without you or your giggles or your coos or your sweet, sweet snuggles.

i love waking up and feeling your sweet, downy head nestled under my chin.  i love how you melt into my arms when you are sleepy tired.  i love how all it takes is a look from me and you break out into the most adorable smiles.

i love how you put up with your sisters antics...each one so unique.  lyla's mothering and livie's smothering.  they love you so much, sweet boy...they just have such different ways of showing it.

i love how my days are filled with random sentences that i would never in a million years expect to hear...sentences such as "mama, my belly is full of babies."

my heart stops a second, hoping that it is many years before i hear those words spoken from the mouth of my oldest daughter...

"really, lyla?  how many babies?"

"lots mama, lots and lots a babies...so many babies my tummy if FULL!!"

or after 3 days of teaching livie that hands are for "gentleness and loves", asking her what her hands are for after a moment of *loving* on elias in a not so loving way and hearing her impish voice exclaim, "COOKIES!!"

or having her run up to me yelling "mah hands, mah hands...they're sticky, mama!! STICKY!!" (because with livie, there is no mid-range vocals) only to discover that no, they're sticky from sticking her hands down her very dirty pants.

or hearing both girls yelling at tony to not leave for work before they can give him hugs and kisses.

these happy sounds that fill our house  (i'm really trying to embrace the not-so-happy sounds) and bring life to the walls that surround us are sounds that i wish could somehow be captured...held close, never forgotten.  so it is for you, my sweet children, my darling husband, that i try and capture these memories with words that seem so inadequate.

i just don't want to forget...

how could i not...

BE GRATEFUL
For every breath. For sunshine on your face.
For a child's laughter. For God's grace.
For peace of mind. For joy of heart.
For love. For the gift of life.
For good friends. For sweet memories.
For pink bubblegum. For silliness.
For red shoes. For blue skies.
For the kindness of others.
For family time. For understanding souls.
For kindred spirits. For true forgiveness.
For good music. For dark chocolate.
For a place to call home. For warm hugs.
For quiet time. For the freedom to dream.
For snowflakes on your tongue.
For raindrops on your face.
For colorful sunsets. For animal-shaped clouds.
For a believing spirit. For a forgiven soul.
For inspiration. For sand between your toes.
For smiles. For tears. For mercy. For Jesus.
- Bonnie Jensen