Beautiful

She thinks she is the most beautiful girl in the entire world, and I have to agree. Emma is standing in front of the mirror doting upon herself. She has covered in eyes in blue shadow, her lips glossy & pink. I have seen this look several times. Emma is proud & pleasing and she knows it.

Jack sits on the counter next to his charming sister, as he admires himself in the mirror. He waits patiently as I sculpt his faux hawk. He looks in admiration at his reflection.

My children are able to sing the words to Jesus Loves Me and sing the entire song wholeheartedly. Emma really believes that her God has made her the most beautiful princess. Jack watches her actions and in response, he thinks very highly of himself. I am in awe at their ability to love themselves.

When, in our years of growing, do we stop believing how special the Creator formed us? As Emma, Jack & Will mature, Roy & I will be committed to forming our blessings into respectable little beings, while pointing them to Christ, but also, continuing to reinforce to each how truly beautiful & unique God has created them.

A piece of his heart

Papa & Pappy are two of Jack's favorite people. They each have captured my son's heart and he is theirs. Though a few months ago, (his best friend) Noah's Grandpa stole a piece of Jack's heart. Every night since then, Jack prays for him. Here is this evening's prayer:

Dear God,
Thank you for... Grandpa.
Thank you for... Noah.
Thank you for... Noah's Grandpa.
Thank you for... Noah's Grandpa.
Thank you for... Noah's Grandpa.
Thank you for... Noah's Grandpa.
In Jesus' Name,
Thank you for all your help. Amen.

4896

I am snuggling in a king size bed with Emma, Jack, and Roy. The sheets are cold. The air is cool. Will is snoozing close in his pack and play. I am close to giddy. Everyone is trying to settle down, a little restless, a little goofy, and I am right there with them. I feel like a kid. We have traveled through six states together to get here to Missouri and I couldn't be more proud of my family. Success and pride and love wrapped up into the flannel sheets of Pappy's bed.

Reflecting, I am still proud and feel a sense of accomplishment. The Jerrolds clan has traveled the unthinkable- don't get me wrong, we had our truck, cushioned warmed seats, toted two DVD players, numerous tunes on our IPOD and the luxury of food (and Starbucks) on the go (no covered wagons here). There and back, we traveled 4896 miles, through 12 states, with three kids, one dog, and I think we did darn good!

Throughout our time away, Emma, Jack, Will, & Cooper ran in the pecan groves of Pappy's yard in Missouri. They threw leaves in the air in the small town of Portageville in Grandma's yard. We looked upon a herd of antelope grazing in the fields of Wyoming. We stood huddled together in the biting wind in the Painted Desert of Arizona. When our children would become too restless of riding endless hours in the truck, we could only play one praise song to calm them: Mighty to Save. It became such a testament to the scenes we saw- we saw our Savior's handiwork, whittled over plain, mountain, dessert, and high land. What an experience to share together as a family: as we traveled 4896 miles, we saw the created beauty of our Savior, the same Savior who poured out His blood to save each of us...

I can still smell Pappy's laundry detergent on Jack's pajamas. I nuzzle my nose into his arm and warm in my family's trip...

Our Newest Addition: Brendal

Thirty fingers, thirty toes

His diaper doesn't fit quite right, but it's not because we are neglectful. Will twists, turns, grunts, and pushes every time we change his diaper. The result is a fit that looks less than adequate. But that's the type of kid he's turning in to. He's joining his older siblings in spaz-land. At nap, he pulls my hair and laughs. He has joined the ranks and very loyal.

At Trader Joe's, I need two carts to tote the kids and the food. Roy and I tag team occasionally, making the trip shorter by locating our groceries on our own. Flying solo, I notice a lovely couple with one toddler. He's even sitting in one of those cloth seats to protect his innocence from the germs that cover the carts. (Will is chewing on a ball point pen.) He calls for his mom and she sweetly answers him. Her hair is pulled into a perfect ponytail, while her unfrizzed curls fall around her shoulder. I, on the other hand, am dodging my crazy ones. There are only two loose around the carts, but they seem to create more noise. I haven't showered in over a day & my baseball cap covers my third-day hair. I can't help but notice the family notice me, and my craziness.

There have been many mornings and nights, I have cried so hard my mascara has vanished. Feeling so overwhelmed by the three that surround me, I feel like I drown at least once a month. Too many little bodies to care for, as well as raise well. I don't know how I manage, except for calling on my Lord, begging Him to take over. I love that our children are goofy, weird, and sometimes out of control. Though at times, I am trampled by their parades.

All while pondering this, the next day, I watch Jack during the start to his nap. He doesn't know I am there in the door frame. He cocks his head as he turns each page of his book, pointing and singing the days of the week. I can't help but smile. He notices my lingering, smiles, and blows me a perfect kiss.

At bed, I read to the blessings. On my lap, sit three bottoms, thirty fingers, thirty toes. I no longer have the perfect trips to the grocery store, the peaceful play dates, or big quantities of one-on-one time with each of my blessings. I lose my sanity quite frequently, but today, I will gladly take what I have been given. Three bottoms, thirty fingers & thirty toes snuggled on my lap... How many people have the privilege of that?

Sunday Evening

I am pulling The Princess in her carriage. I am the horse. She sits in her buggy. The wind rubs my face, making my eyes water. The Princess sits cozy, safe, of course, next to Minnie and Tink. We pass brown children playing, black children shooting hoops. She sees no color, only smiles at their joy. We travel hill and mountain. She speaks every now and then, never uttering too much. She is content.

We return back to the castle and The Princess must warm her cold body in a hot bubble bath, accompanied by all her favorite friends. Hair dripping, body wet, she beckons my assistance. Dressed in the choicest of cloths, she joins her court for dinner.

We lay in bed and look at the stars. Their light invades our roof, creeping through the ceiling. Even though this happens every night, she is still in awe. We whisper love, gentle kisses, and small songs.

She is safe, warm and snug. I may attend to her beck and call, but she is mine.

A Pirate's Life for Me: I want it my way

Emma sits on the chair in the corner of the room. She is in the midst of a breakdown. Tears are streaking her face; I can't help but smile. She's playing pirates with her Daddy and he has just commandeered her pirate ship. He kneels across from her, desperately trying to explain it's part of the game. He's begging her to fight him back. She agrees and her pirates are temporarily successful. But as soon as she begins to battle, her ship is seized once again and Emma melts away to another breakdown. We try again to explain this is how you play... It doesn't always go your way...


Yesterday, our crazy dog had surgery. He has been in need of this procedure for some time now. We have put it off to save the money for it. But in the midst of the surgery, the doctor has found our crazy Cooper has a problem with his liver. After hearing this news, I fall back into my chair in the corner and complain. How can we handle financially to care for an ailing dog? But how could I look at him and my blessings and think of putting him down?


Later, I pick up Cooper with the three blessings, all are very excited & still very naive to possible impending doom. As we wait in the still truck for our young pup to rejoin our family, I admire a very large tree. It's leaves & arms begin to sway to the wind and then to the music that fills our cab. Come and see, look on this mystery, the LORD OF THE UNIVERSE, is nailed to a tree. Fernado Ortega, once again, reminds me of where my focus needs to be. Not on finances, not on our crazy dog, but on my Lord.

Moving on from the disappointment of the pirates, Emma has set up another train in our dining room. Many of her animals are on the Emma-express, myself included. She asks me to drive the train for awhile, but I am reluctant too. I tell her I am too scared to take over the train; I am really just lazy and don't want to get up and switch seats with her. She looks at me, with her stunning yellow eyes and her head tilted to the side, she gently reassures me:
It's ok, Mom. Do you want me to press the EASY button?

Yes! Yes! Please press the EASY button! Can we? With every worry that currently invades my small mind!

But there I go again... Drifting away from my focus on Christ. Life will just continue on; things will be constantly thrown at us. But... It is when my eyes are fixed upon my Savior, that is when everything else will fall into place. And then, I don't have to throw my fit in the corner when the pirates hijack my ship...

Turn my eyes away from worthless things; preserve my life according to your word. Psalm 119:37

October 2nd

She's been gone six years now and I can't say I am ever going to be over it. If you look close enough, you can still make out the scar that protects the deep wound. After she left, I sat at the window to the street, day after day, waiting her return. And she never did. The abandonment brought denial. The denial, pain & scorn. The scorn, anger. The anger, acceptance. The acceptance, forgiveness. And now, finally, with the forgiveness, healing.

For some time after she left, I ached so much, my heart broke. In her dismissal of this so-called friendship we shared, her selfishness finally brought me joy. It seems ironic. But when I surrendered to the pain of my loss, I was able to accept the many blessings that surrounded- they seemed to engulf me regardless if I wanted them to or not.

Today, I stand here watching my two oldest blessings squat and examine something close to the ground. They are so intent on examining and observing their new find. They squat and poke along side their very best friend; I get to stand and watch in peace next to one of mine. Had she not left, I would have never had the opportunity to form not one, but three beautiful friendships, all of which continually lift me up and point me to our Christ. Each of my sweet treasures encourages me, uplifts me, laughs with me in my successes, cries with me in my failures.

I still miss, will always miss her laughter. I will always be saddened that she will not, cannot ever enjoy my blessings and rejoice with me in their small lives. But my God works good in everything, even the bad. I take the pain, the healing. It spurs me to better things. My cup runneth over.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him,

who have been called according to His purpose.

Romans 8:28

You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done,

the saving of many lives.

Genesis 50:20

Precious Blood

Come and see, look on this mystery the Lord of the universe, is nailed to the tree... Giver of mercy, giver of life... Sing to Jesus, His is the throne... We are His own... Sing for the love our God has shown...

There is something inspiring and stirring within the hymns and praises that Fernando Ortega sings. I have been listening and meditating with him constantly in my truck as I run to and from- so much so, my blessings are also following along with the melody & lyrics. As we praise our Risen Lord together, my God, my Creator, Emma's Father, is impressing upon her heart wonderful, deep questions. My Emma is seeking Him already! We have transitioned so quickly from telling Emma about Jesus, His Creation, His Love to the power of her Savior's blood, the sacrifice He made for her & her brothers!

Reflecting on these things in the stillness of the afternoon, the sweet noise that fills the downstairs is my Emma: sitting, working at the kitchen table, singing at the top of her lungs- There is power, power, wonder working power, in the Precious Blood of the Lamb. (She actually just churned on her imaginative congregation- ONE MORE TIME!)

It continues to be an honor to raise these blessings. But now, it is indescribable the legacy that we can leave our children- a strong, firm foundation built upon our Lord. It remains my utmost desire, the desire of my core, for my children to come to know my Father at an early age. It is my pleasure to participate in this journey with them as we seek Him together...

Keeper

It's taken at least an hour to get rid of my pounding headache this morning. The youngest of the blessings, who will affectionately be referred to as The Surprise for the duration of this blog, was up most of the evening, night, early morning screaming. His only comfort and solace was to nurse throughout the night, quite violently.

Later in the morning, I drive to my weekly Bible study, eager to just be there and learn. I am able to be renewed and refreshed every week. I gather there and I can be encouraged by women of wisdom. On the way, I pop in "Mommy's Song," also known as Sacred. My blessings know it almost by heart and sing it nearly perfect. This morning, again like the countless times I have relied on it before, it reminds me that My Father, the LORD GOD ALMIGHTY, has named me Keeper of these little ones. Wow! What a title. What a job. I am Keeper of even The Surprise... Emma asks to hear it again and again. I have to nearly bite the inside of my lip the third time. I can no longer sing along. I am overcome with emotion, as I listen: Everything is sacred... Everything I've dreamed of, has been right before my eyes...

During Bible study, Will, oops, The Surprise, sits clinging to my chest in his sling. He is cranky (you, think?) and restless. I know he needs sleep. I bounce. I stand. And then, I sing the song I have sung to him for almost a year now: Oh, how He loves you and me... He doses off quickly, breathing into me, snuggling close and secure in his Keeper's and His Father's warmth. How quickly I have forgotten that my sweet Surprise is sacred. He, along with Emma and Jack, is what I longed for when Roy and I were first married. How desperately I wanted to quickly expand our family. Of course, I didn't think about the headaches, the heartaches, the sleep deprivation, the insanity at the time- but would I have proceeded? Probably not. But I am here now. This is my life. And the Lord God Almighty has made me there Keeper for this short brief time while they are young. What a task! What an honor! I will cling to this title today.

Our Lake

We are staying again at one of my favorite places (so far) on this earth. I actually call it mine, and quite proudly, maybe a little arrogantly, reminding my children many times that I share it with them. The fact is though, it is ours. That's the benefit of being children of The King...

Every moment my children walk through these surroundings is absolutely picturesque. No words or camera could ever capture the trueness of the moments here. Jack walks through the wood chips with his Dorothy on his shoulders, trees surrounding him on all sides, the air clear & brisk; Emma teaches her caught crawdads sweet tricks; Will army crawls everywhere through the dirt, eager to explore; I have to freeze these moments in my mind.

The Lake is cold, more so than usual. Returning to it's beaches, our hair whips every which way in the winds. It doesn't hinder the children from enjoying it's brilliance. Emma dons her bathing suit and teases the water's edge with her feet. Jack runs and throws rocks, watching each splash. Cooper even manages to visit the water with his front paws... Only Will huddles against my chest in the sling, occasionally looking up to see his family play.

We spend the afternoon hiking through the meadow and into the hill. The afternoon sun reveals thousands of bugs and lint from the top of the grass dancing through the sky. It looks like fairies frolicking among us. Birds swoop down to eat their dinner and dragonflies buzz by our heads. Auntie teases us, as we pause to capture the moment- we apparently resemble the Ingles... We head farther into the trees, Jack & Emma each carry their walking sticks and bags of treasures- pine cones, rocks, fallen pine needles. They watch their Uncle Ken in awe, as he breaks apart fallen trees with his feet. Jack kicks at the tree, with such a look of determination. Emma prods with her stick. They can remain in this space, prying at the tree for so long, we have to convince them to move on. Later Emma will beg her Papa to take hiking again! in the forest.

We are now huddled in bed, snuggled against each of our blessings for warmth. Their feet, knees, hands & faces have been scrubbed. Roy sings quietly off-key You are My Sunshine into Jack's fat head. In our very small space, I whisper into Emma's ear: What if we had to live in a place this small? She responds quickly: I wouldn't care at all! Neither would I...

The Princess Turns 5

Cats in the Cradle

I am walking up a gigantic hill with a giant of a man. He's my Dad & I am able to dawdle in his presence. We are going up this enormous place, where sits a barn & some old horses that tower over my small head. Their long thick tongues eat up the apples we've prepared for them. Moments later, maybe days, perhaps years, we sit on my bed, composing our own symphony on my Magical Musical Thing. These moments stand still in my memory. As also, the days we sat for hours at the kitchen table creating noses of playdough. The dough clings to my face, filling my nostrils with that playdough smell and my mind with a security nothing can snatch...

She'd say: I'm gonna be like you, Dad. You know I'm gonna be like you.

I sit at her feet and watch her tenderly nurse my sister. She never scolds me back to bed, but allows me to linger there and just spend the delicate minutes of the night with her. Years later, early in the morning I rise, to climb into a pallet she's created in the back of our Dodge, while the sun still sleeps, yet my own Mother doesn't, to supervise the paper route to make extra money. She continues every morning on warm summer days, to fill our plastic wading pool with water from the hose, so it will warm in the morning sun.

She'd say: I'm gonna be like you, Mom. You know I'm gonna be like you.

Decades later, Roy sits in the car deeply in thought following his small group. His teacher, a man of many years of wisdom (ah-hem, yup, that's my Dad!) has spent the time in Genesis. Roy has been reminded about the importance of our time with our children; the words that pull at him the most are from a song from Harry Chapin, Cat's in the Cradle. Though our goal as a family, as a team, is to promote the family through spending quality time together. We are still reminded and convicted to make this a priority.

Watch me, Mom! she screams from the top of the slide. Within moments, she is toppling down the twisted slide, but not from a sweet trick. Emma has actually fallen and slid down the slide in her Emma-clumsy way. She laughs, even though she has messed up her performance. The next morning, she will stand at the top of the adjacent slide, eager to meet with and play with her new girlfriends. She will topple again, but this time, because the slide is straight, she will tumble quickly to the ground, her face quick to scrape the ground. But this time, instead of laughter, sadness and embarrassment will fill her face. She will cling to my chest for comfort and wait awhile to gain the courage to recover her pride.

She'd say: I'm gonna be like you, Mom. You know I'm gonna be like you.Roy pushes him as high as a high can be, well, at least high enough for ten month old Mr. Squishy Squishyton. He giggles and laughs and enjoys every moment of being probed by his Dad's hands, tickling every bit of his squishy legs. That evening, Will is nursing lazily on my lap. He stops for a moment to say some quiet words to himself. Early in the week, nursing again before bed, he has spied the cat peeking from the window's curtain. I say to him, Cat. Cat. Cat says Meow. with confidence. He repeats Cat in his best 10 month old voice.

He'd say: I'm gonna be like you, Dad. You know I'm gonna be like you.Jack turns two and with his new number has brought a sudden interest in all stereotypical two year old things... He has suddenly become interested in puzzles and is learning to master them quickly. Jack loves trains and can play for moments (indeed this is long for a tornado of his stature) at a time, driving them various places around the house. With his new fascinations, comes a temper that can flare with any sudden frustration. And managing this beast is a new skill. So he spends moments in the corner, sweaty, frustrated, angry. In between the fits he begs for water and to be cuddled. He falls into my arms. He rests his head on my shoulder. Peace, for the moment.

He'd say: I'm gonna be like you, Mom. You know I'm gonna be like you.We sit on the couch, just me & her. I read her Someday. I hide my tears with pauses between her numerous questions. She sits on the couch in silence, staring straight ahead. That's so sad. That is such a sad book she ponders. Why is it sad? I question. Because Auntie says it is... Brilliant little parrot...

Someday I will stand on this porch and watch your arms waving to me until I no longer see you. Someday you will look at this house and wonder how something that feels so big can look so small... Someday, a long time from now, your own hair will grow silver in the sun. And when that day comes, love, you will remember me.How can I commit to memory (again a favorite phrase) these small moments & cling to my blessings' childhood, when, really, I know they will fade just as quickly as they happen... But we live every day with the hopes of knowing that our children will grow, just as I did- they will cling to and remember small priceless times with Roy & I. They may not remember specifics but will grow up knowing they spent their childhood with us, not merely wishing to be with us. And want to be just like Mom and Dad... And when they think on these moments, they will remember us...

Quiet Halls

Jack is crouched down in a squat position next to the coffee table. He is eying a bug that is crawling along the ledge. From where I sit, I can see only the top of his head to his eyes. He is both scared and fascinated at this bug, lazily walking along. We shared our lunch together, watching Narnia, after a great morning together. We took a date to a local bookstore for story time. After story time, we visited the doctor for his check up, just the two of us. He wore his Lightning McQueen backpack to the exam. The backpack seemed to swallow his back and he walked into the office with his Jack-confidence.
I have been blessed with the opportunity this week to drink Jack & his Jack-ness in. After I returned from Southern California, Roy's grandmother, Ma Fisher, went home to rest in the arms of her Saviour. Roy quickly packed his bags, as well as Emma's, to travel back east, where I wish our entire clan could huddle. But being a single mother of two boys this week, has given me many opportunities to just be with & savor my boys.
Later in the day, Will giggles every time I cover the air between us in obnoxious kisses. He is covered in bananas, white cheddar macaroni, applesauce, and vanilla yogurt. (I, apparently, am not looking to educate the youngest on the importance of the variety of colors in foods.)
After the giggle bug is put to bed for the night, I am able to cuddle with Jack on the couch watching The Wiggles, his new favorite. He drinks the attention in. Jack clings to my hand and presses it to his face. I tell Jack that we don't cuddle enough. He keeps repeating in his soft voice, Let's cuddle...
I cannot imagine raising these boys on my own. I feel as though I have reached my survival mode, just keeping enough energy to motivate myself to make it through bedtime. (And, thankfully, I have had the much needed, always appreciated, help this week from my mom & dad.) I have thoroughly enjoyed my time with Jack & Will. But what I have noticed is, with the absence of a third child, the house is more orderly, there is less laundry, the halls are quieter, the dog doesn't get as riled up, and there has been absolutely no sibling rivalry (just a little sibling comradeship when it comes to bedtime and both boys protest with their cries!)!
I talk to Emma this evening. My heart literally hurts to hug the small being that produces such a squeaky voice over the phone. When I just hear this voice, it reminds me how little she really is. How I miss this little sweet craziness. I know I may lead a chaotic life & there are days I scream inside, for fear I may not make it through, but I miss the halls that scream with my blessings laughter, fights, sharing and teaching moments, and their play. I love spending this time with my boys, but I long for my family to be complete once again.....

Beach Walk

I have walked this road to the water a dozen times, but every time, something new stands out. Like this morning, I notice an old blue home with flags hung on the porch, sun bleached with time. Jack has woken early, the rest of the home still slumbering. We take our walk hand in hand, he holds his other hand up in the air, careful not to let the oversized sweatshirt sleeve cover his free hand.
We play "I Spy" as we examine the colors & the range of flowers that thrive in this climate. We walk along the sidewalk that parallels the docks. Jack is enamored with all the boats. We watch the pelicans dive into the water, gathering breakfast. He picks sage flowers and is eager to share this moment with Sissy. His Dad joins us & Jack is peaceful.
On the way back to the beach house, he clings to my neck, tired from his morning walk.
I am taken back again and again by the love I have for each of my blessings. It consumes me, surprises me...
We collect Emma- the two pirates share a carriage ride in a wagon pulled by their mighty Dad. Everything they come across, every flower, every bird, every boat, they breathe in. They pick flowers together, each helping & encouraging the other.
How can I commit to memory the smell of the fresh cold air? The sound of the morning birds? The way Jack's nose crinkles as he smells the different bouquets of flowers? The morning is priceless...

My daugher of five...

You entered our lives five years ago & we found out too quickly there was no owner's manual. You have survived our shortcomings & rejoiced in our accomplishments as parents (and you cling to dad & me, regardless!). Until, you were born, we didn't start to grasp the love our Father has for His children. Dad & I will do anything for you... And I stand in awe of you, Jesus sung through my head continuously, days, weeks, after your arrival.
The color of your hair matches your eyes almost perfectly. It's stunning, beautiful, exotic. You are all girl, yet not girly at all. You are tough, brave, & love blood (just not your own). You are clumsy & filled with gas, and that makes you proud. You are goofy, a joker, and very verbal. You are compassionate, a fighter, a lover. You delight in others' successes and go to battle for your causes. You will wear a sundress as you fight the 'bad guys' with your pirate sword. You can ride your bike for miles in the heat, still looking beautiful in your carefully selected garb. Your love for elephants is so great, you have collected perhaps every elephant collectible there is available...
What amazes me most of all is your tender love for our God, as well as your excitement and love for your family. Your prayers are constantly filled with thanksgiving. Our prayers bring you peace & comfort.
You have your Daddy's coloring, but my eyes. And every now & then, the reaction that fills your face reveals my Grandmother, I nearly get weepy.
I want nothing short of complete success for you. I want whoever who is blessed to come into contact with you, to know how absolutely special you are. You are a NICE girl- one of a kind.
Jump high on that trampoline. Master your cartwheel. Become an avid cyclist. Slay dragons & fight pirates. Sleep in the grandest of grand castles.
My desire for you, sweet Princess, is that you will know my Lord, your Creator at a young age. That He would be your true Prince Charming. Follow where He will lead you. Further His Kingdom.
So continue to grow, though you may experience pain. Laugh until you cry. Befriend & continue to share your sweet Jesus with others. I love you beyond words or expressions.

My son of two...

Tonight, on the eve of your second birthday, I really can't help savoring nearly every moment at bed with you. You break into song with Oh How He Loves You & Me and then your favorite Twinkle Twinkle as you make stars with your pudgy hands. You pray, thanking God for all the special people in your life & draw out your A-men. You go to sleep with such random items- tonight a pirate's gun but you have also gone to bed with your pirate sword put correctly in it's sleeve, a right boot, a pirate clock, Sissy's animals...
I constantly want to smell the top of your head or smoother the smooshy side of your cheek with kisses. I am continuously drawn to you. You had my heart immediately two years ago, but as time goes on, my heart continues to break again and again for you. I am so in love with every single bit of you.
There is something mischievous yet mysterious about you. You are a daredevil, a tornado, an instigator, a screamer, a giggler, a spaz, a lover. You constantly beg Watch me Mommy, Watch me... while you perform your sweet tricks. You can make Emma & Will giggle with your maneuvers one moment & then scream for needed help the next.
You were prayed for before you were conceived, and when you breathed the air of this world, so many friends & family gathered around you to thank our Creator for you. Songs of praise filled the room, as we sang How Great is our God! (The very praise two year old Emma & I sang together in the dark, when we found out you would be joining our family eight months later!)
The desire of my heart remains- that you would fall in love with and serve our Lord; that our Lord be your Complete.
Grow, my son. Jump. Fall. Laugh. Bruise. Explore. Obey. Love. Serve.

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

Music Time

We are huge fans of The Toddler's Busy Book & trying to incorporate the crafts & activities from it into our daily routines. Jack & Emma enjoyed making their own kazoos. After, the had their own dance party!



To make the kazoos, use your empty toilet paper rolls and punch a hole towards the top side. Have the blessings decorate the roll with stickers, ribbon, colors, and then glue (hot glue worked great!) a small piece of paper to the bottom. Enjoy your handmade music show!

Advanced Drawing 501 taught by Professor Emma

Ariel, the Little Mermaid
July 08

Eminism

You can call me 'M' when I'm riding my bike.
-The audacious girl on the bike ride home from church.

Lessons

Emma leans over my lap, sitting at the table, whispering while she presses her side into my lap- It's good to have a mom. One of those new moments where she can tenderly express her love & affection as she grows into maturity.
On Saturday, I rush (as always) to not be extremely late to Emma's girlfriend's birthday party. I am so aggravated & frustrated as I drive there. I find myself behind the bumper of a very old, very slow moving, very long car. I sigh out loud & Emma asks what's wrong. She reminds me the old car can't go very fast because he's so rusty. Oh, right, I smile.
I have an enormous book of life lessons I have already learned from my three children, who haven't even seen even close to the number of birthdays I have. After the birthday party, Emma & I go pick out paper for her tea party birthday invitations & we decide to get a snack together. She takes my hand into hers & is elated that we can have a "date."
Jack will sit next to me at dinner on Sunday as close as close can be. He pulls on my chair again & again and begs me to scoot closer, Momma. I can't help but fall in love again with him, his dirty face covered by these sweet words, shoving corn into his fat mouth.
Come close to Me... Spend time with Me... Lighten your load...
Later in the evening, I stand at the end of the hallway, folding the never ending laundry, as Roy bathes the kids. Laughter & craziness spill through the door, flooding the hall. I can't help but laugh out loud.
Now today, wishing I could import my memories into this blog, I tripped & fell, trying to be sly on the treadmill. Somehow, some strange "Heather" way, my right leg got stuck to the moving belt, as my left remained stationary far away. The belt stripped my skin on my shin & knee raw. Of all the analogies I could think of and write of, there are many, but I guess the one that remains with this crazy brain this afternoon is that my Father continues to teach me & strip away at the yucky muck that clouds my life. Every day, He uses many situations, but He uses my children as well. Even this afternoon, as I am apologizing to my Sovereign Lord for thinking such self-absorbed thoughts, making myself too high & mighty and others much lower, my Emma prays and thanks Him for our blessed Taco Bell. In her prayer, she thanks God for our friends Michelle & her daughter Abby, and then says:
Thank you for showing them the cross, so they may know You.
Thank you for sending them Your Grace.
Wow! I am speechless. In the midst of her small life, Emma already has her priorities in check, pointing to the cross in even the small moments. I at the same time, can't get out of my chair quick enough to write down this prayer so I won't forget. (Not for learning purposes, but for a good story).
So once again, I remain the self absorbed, narcissistic, arrogant, low life, learning and being taught every day priceless lessons from my own children, as my Lord continues to try to strip away at my mucky outer layer.
Yeah- It's good to have a daughter... and a son... and a son...

Heartache

My heart aches tonight for the first time in over two years. I have been a Zoloft addict since the before the birth of Jack to thankfully ward off the postpartum depression that I had experienced after the birth of Emma. Aside from a small break in between Jack & Will, my mind, my emotions have been totally altered and dependent on this modern medicine.

Three days now, I have quit cold turkey, against the better judgment of the pharmacist & one of my best friends. This morning, after getting so frustrated with Emma for screaming for the umpteenth time today, I listen to Caedmon's Call, as Danielle reminds me that my Lord God made me my precious blessings' keeper. I cry. I sob. I reach back while I am driving and touch the leg of a very confused Emma & whisper I love you. These emotions that are so God-given are reintroducing themselves back so quickly. And again, like before, He reminds me, Cling to Me, my daughter. I have heard the voice of my Lord repeatedly reminding, begging me to be dependent on Him. Rely on Him for my sanity, my peace, my strength, not some small blue pill.

Today, I have been confronted with old wounds, which I thought were long closed up & healed. This evening, I actually felt my heart beat so hard in my chest, I thought it'd come out my throat. I stumbled over words, aching for what could have been, all the while, experiencing these "normal" emotions. Beyond the smiles & hugs during the encounter, there was a great sadness lingering in the air. The sadness so thick, I almost couldn't see past it.

I drive home, my heart aching. But then my heart aches in a beautiful different way. Jack is singing in the back of the truck, while Emma & chubby Will sleep the drive away. He is actually singing his own words & tune. And once again, my Lord reminds me, to cling to Him alone. He has gifted Roy & I with blessings that are too numerous to count. After Jack's song, he begs to hear the Wiggles CD. Then the Lion King. Then the Wiggles. Then Curious George. Sweet Jack... I put him to bed and he thanks his God for Who, a person created by Jack while we wereteaching Jack to pray- Thank you God for...Who?

My heart indeed aches from sadness tonight for the first time in a while. But it also aches from being full and proud and overwhelmed and amazed at the goodness of my God, blessing me with a crazy family, an amazing support system, wounds that will heal, and true real God-breathed emotions...

Precious Eminism

It's good to have a mom.
-Showering me with love & kisses after dinner

It's good I didn't break my body.
-After falling off the arm of the couch.

Ode to Roy

Dear Dr. Laura,

Yesterday, while waiting in the car of the grocery store parking lot, I witnessed something that made me so sad. A couple exited the store, the woman clearly at the end of her pregnancy. She was waddling to the car, carrying multiple bags of groceries, while her husband walked in front of her, empty handed. He quickly got into the car and closed the door, started the engine, while she still waddled to her side of the car. As he sped away, she was still putting on her safety belt.

This week in the midst of our church's Vacation Bible School, I came down with strep throat. Nasty! My husband, the valiant, willingly stepped in and took care of everything. Everything. While I slept the infection away for the past three days, Roy laundered the clothes, fed our three children, bathed them, shuttled some to VBS (as well as other children), played with them, colored with them, chased them, disciplined them, took care of my sick soul, and squeezed moments here and there to do his work (that pays the bills) from home.

After eight years of marriage, three small children later, my husband still treats me and our family like his most prized possession. I am his queen. He has absolutely ruined it for other men. He is the best. He is mine.

Sincerely,
Heather Jerrolds

What I learned at VBS...

So this week, it's that time of year again. It's the time of year our family looks forward to all year- Vacation Bible School. We have witnessed and been part of so many great things that our God has done over the past 6 years with every VBS. This year has been no disappointment...

Our new church is a recently merged church- actually it's first Sunday as a new church was the Sunday immediately after the birth of our son, Will. So as this new church matures, we can measured it's growth against Will's development. Will is crawling now- scooting very quickly. This milestone is very necessary for his physical development. Like Will's crawling, Vacation Bible School has come at the right time. It has united these two different churches even more so, uniting us for the common purpose of reaching out to our community & pointing the families to Him who saves us all.

This week I was reminded that God wants to spend time with me. Sunday evening, I really felt as though I should set the alarm for five in the morning. I didn't. God longed to spend moments of this busy week alone with His daughter. Cooper was the outlet... Cooper, who usually snoozes until 7 or 8, cried desperately to get up at 5! I reluctantly left my slumber, though I was able to ponder & read the Bible by myself and tell my Lord my concerns for the day. What a rejuvenating treat...

This week I was reminded that my God takes care of my mental needs. The story for the first day was about Moses & the Israelites crossing the Red Sea. I learned while leaving Egypt, the Israelites could have traveled a shorter way, through the Philistine campground, but He knew they weren't mentally ready for battle. I had pleaded with my Lord most of the night to bring kids, but no more than 30! We had 24 in attendance. He certainly got us through Monday.

This week I was reminded that my God amazes me. From our story on Tuesday, I was reminded that the shepherds were amazed at what they had seen when they had found Jesus, God's Son, newly born to Joseph & Mary. We come from a church of nearly 9 children in our Sunday Morning Small Group classes. By Tuesday, we had 88 children in attendance!

Lastly, the most important lesson that I need to daily be reminded is that I am replaceable. On Tuesday night, I came down with strep throat. I hesitantly called our Pastor's wife to tell her I wasn't coming. Many stepped forward (including my mom, the hero, the brave) to take over our Preschool class that totaled at least 30 children!!!

God continues to amaze me just getting me through my days of raising my sweet blessings, but being able to also witness this Vacation Bible School was a treat- where many children learned about & accept our Saviour! Emma rode her scooter around the home singing from our VBS- I know my God is real... Priceless!

Gifts

It's was one of those trips again... It started out well, loading up Emma & Jack in the basket of the cart at Target, and sitting Will up in the front. They were so sweet, huddled together, playing I Spy, looking for their best buddy, Noah, in the store. I got them popcorn & slurpees to sustain them for the duration of the shopping trip, but slowly (ever so slowly) the demeanor of the group seemed to slide downhill. Jack was really pushing his bad guy image. Emma was really starting to perfect her art of whine.

When it came time to check out, Jack continued just to be, well... Jack! He continued to grab at the conveyor belt. Emma continued to whine! I turned around and locked eyes with a fellow mom. Good- I see support, comradeship. We link eyes, and I feel her feel me & understand my frustrations. I grab the divider that Jack continues to mess with, after being warned many times to STOP! and, with his back turned to me, I pretend to hit him repeatedly over the head while I am watching my newfound ally. Jack & Emma continue their banter back and forth and something prompts Jack to verbally fight back. Whine for whine, right? The gentleman in the line over takes pity on my poor distressed son, just as the mother behind me, my chum, my companion, states (with her very sedated son in the basket of her cart) that that is why she only has one kid... What??? Et tu, Brute? I ponder while I feel a sharp pain emerge in my back. How dare you!!!

I will be the first to admit: My children have made me mentally insane. But there is so much joy that comes from raising these hoodlums. Does my pal know how Jack may claim to be a bad guy, but kisses every member of his family, tenderly, after praying for each of them at night? Or how Emma, whine as she may, took all morning at church to befriend and make a new child feel welcome?

There are many days, like this afternoon, where my family is misrepresented but regardless- my children are gifts, the most precious gifts from my Father in Heaven. I may make a big scene at the store or restaurant, when my children & I are just trying to figure the day out. I may run crazy after Jack while he runs down the street laughing insanely. I may make Emma cry at the tone of my very frustrated voice. And I may be currently & continue to be contributing to the overpopulation of this earth. But I cling to the verse from Psalm 127:3 that each of my children are a "reward" from my LORD. (And I will have as many as my Lord says...) They are my most precious, most cherished gifts.

Sons are a heritage from the LORD, children a reward from him.
Psalm 127:3 NIV

Good versus Evil

Silent Eminisms

- Emma, fallen asleep on the highway with her favorite toy (of the moment in her mouth).

Upon return, on the same highway, I noticed her waving her hand in front of Will's face. Vigorously. She then proceeded to hold his foot with one hand and his hand with her other hand and bend them to each other back and forth. Vigorously. As she continued to do this, he was unresponsive. No giggle, no wimper, nothing.

-Emma, is Will sleeping?
-Yes.
-Please stop doing that to him.
-But he doesn't mind. He's still sleeping...