sweet 16

 It's been 16 years since we said "I do."  Actually it was "I will," and there's a funny story behind that - but I'll spare you.  Let's just say there was no hesitating on that day.  We loved each other and we were ready to pledge our lives to one another.

This man has been such a blessing to me!  I am honored to be his wife.  Over and over he extends me grace, and he is so considerate and respectful.  He's turned out to be an amazing father (but I knew that he would be) and an even better husband, partner, lover, leader and friend.

I've loved my life these past 16 years, and I pray we'll have many, many more years together.  I have my heart set on growing old with this guy.


Happy Anniversary, Dearest.  I love you more today than I ever have before.  And given our history, that's saying something!

weekend for two

My husband and I got away - by ourselves - this past weekend.  We had a really nice time!

We went to a bed & breakfast northwest of our home.  It was beautiful, the weather was great, and the company was stellar.  

Here we are sitting by the creek.

Crippen Creek.  Lovely, no?

The view from our bedroom included trees and pastured chickens.  We even got to collect the eggs on Saturday.  And I was reminded of my irrational fear of birds, and the reason I really should never have backyard chickens.  They were lovely from a distance though.

There's nothing like pretty scenery framed by a clear blue sky.

We enjoyed a day in Astoria, and had a lovely gluten-free lunch. 

Also, I feel in love with a new flavor of Izze!

Rest, relaxation, good food, better company, and time to talk, talk, talk.  Success!

April 16, 1974

On this day a few decades ago, something huge happened.  Well, it was hugely significant for me, and for more than a few other people.  This is the day that my husband was born.

I myself wasn't alive at that time; I don't know what the weather was like or how the room's atmosphere felt.  I couldn't say how the news was delivered, whether or not he was sleepy that first day  he saw sunlight.

I imagine him blinking his newborn-gray eyes, stretching a bit, looking around.  Wrapped in a blue blanket with a tiny hat on his head, a little startled at his sudden change in circumstance.  Curious, of course...always curious.

What I know for certain is this:  my love came into the world that day.  Bursting forth to change the lives of his parents...in fact, everyone who would come to know and love him.

Most especially me.

 Brown hair.  Eyes now blue.  Tall with a warm smile.  Quick to laugh.  Active father.  Disciple of Christ.

This man is such a blessing to me: the way he leads our family, the way he raises our children, the way he loves me.  I am so thankful for him, so awed that I was allowed to be his wife, and so ready to celebrate this gift.

Because of these things, I will always say a prayer of thanks for...

...April 16, 1974.

the weekend past

Ah, 'twas a lovely weekend.

It involved...

...a dinner for two which ended with sharing an utterly scrumptious slice of Raspberry White Chocolate Truffle cheesecake.

...kissing our four oldest darlings and wishing them a great two days with their grandparents.

...reminiscing, planning and dreaming with my husband.

...sleeping in until 7:15 AM.  Such an incredibly rare treat!

...an absolutely perfect brunch out with two of my favorite guys in the world.

...a very fun outing to IKEA, during which our unpredictable 13-month-old behaved himself completely.

...a relaxing afternoon at home with the house (almost) to myself.

...a little writing time.

...an early bedtime for young sir.

...movie, snacks and snuggles on the couch.

...a hot bath with candlelight and a glass of wine.

...two nights of stellar sleep.

...quiet mornings with my man.

{I adore my children, but weekends like this feed my spirit. There's truly something to be said for relaxation and rest!  Especially during the cold, gray days of January...}

the heart & soul of this operation

We would never have done this thing apart from my husband. His enthusiasm, his excitement, and his faith that it could in fact be done...they have been the driving force behind our Big Trip from the very beginning.

When Jeff suggested this venture last summer, I told him it was crazy.  I put him off, saying "Let's wait and make sure that the baby is born healthy, and isn't too colicky..." Part of me thought he would forget about it. I mostly hoped he would.  The very idea made my stomach churn.

A family of seven? On the road for three weeks? With a baby in tow?

Insanity.

I joked that we would need to budget a massage or two into our financial planning. Probably a few sessions with a therapist. I told my friends that I expected to come home with a new twitch. Time after time, he told me,"Think positive! Focus on the exciting things about all this." And I tried, I really did.  But my heart quailed within me, and my knees were like Jell-O.

He was right. With a lot of prayer and the grace of God, it has been a phenomenal trip.

My husband excels at the practical things as well.  It was his idea to pack "hotel suitcases." Genius.  And when it comes to loading our vehicle, he has an amazing gift.  Spatial organization it not my strong suit; it is most definitely his.

He brings bags into our lodgings each night. He hauls the cooler full of lunch goods to our rest stop picnic table.  His servant heart blesses me each and every day.

He is the brains and the brawn; he is the heart and soul of this adventure. We never, ever could have done this without his self-sacrifice and vision.

I am blessed to call this man my husband!  Even with the cow-tipping t-shirt.

the great undertaking

Alternately titled: "The Lunatic Trip."


For months now we've been talking about it.  Considering, weighing pros and cons.  Back and forth.  Should we?  Should we not?  Is it just insane?  And we finally decided; we're going to go for it.

"It" is a major road trip.  This summer, in the hot and humid month of July, Jeff and I will take our brood on a three-week adventure.

You read that right.  I said "road trip."  We are driving.

Here's the thing: we grew up in the Midwest.   Jeff and I both spent the bulk of our childhoods in northeastern Kansas; our formative years were spent in wide open spaces, enjoying vast sunsets and huge blue skies.  Between the two of us, we could tell you a thousand tales of that land - we both love it dearly.  It's so exciting to consider visiting our old stomping grounds, showing our children where we met, went to school, played at the park.

Yes, I love the landscape of my old home.  (And truly, there are trees.  Tons of them.  And rolling hills too.)  But beyond all that, we're anticipating visiting the people.  Dear friends we haven't seen in years.  The church family which observed our growing attachment, the twists and turns our path held, and eventually were witnesses on the day we pledged our love to one another.

My brother and his family live in Houston, which may still be a ways from Kansas, but it's a whole lot closer to Kansas than Oregon.  We haven't been to visit them in five busy years; we're eager to do that as well.

So when we realized that Jeff's 20-year class reunion is this summer, the conversation began.  In the end we decided to do it.  We're driving to Kansas and then on to Texas.

Yes, in July.  Yeah, we know it'll be hot.  Our kids will think they're going to melt.
(Believe me, I know.  When Jeff and I went back for my brother's wedding in 2002 - a year and a half after we'd moved away - I thought the humidity would kill me.  The Pacific northwest made a wimp out of me.)

I haven't been able to attend my own class reunions.  It's either been too expensive, or I've been about to have a baby...or something.  But right now I'm not pregnant.  It will still be expensive, but it turns out that there is no perfect time for something like this.  So before any more time passes, while we have the chance, we are going to go.

Frankly, I must tell you that I'm terrified.  Baby Gabriel, for all his charm, is not a good traveler - a fact reinforced by his recent scream-fest on the way home from the coast.  I'm praying he'll somehow be transformed into one, but right now it doesn't seem likely.  Away from the comfort and familiarity of home - for three weeks - with five kids...is really scary for this retiring homebody.  At times it might feel like a nightmare.

And yet...I think it'll be well worth it.  Worth the stress, the planning, the anxiety, the price.

To go back, as we've been wanting to do for years, to see beloved sights, see familiar faces.  To enter the doorway of that dear old country church, to walk up the aisle once more: this time with my husband and children at my side.

It's the stuff dreams are made of.

how I met my husband

Twenty-one years ago, I met the man who would become my husband.  I didn't know it at that moment, and it has not always been an easy road.  We have had twists and turns, but he has had my heart for so many years now  - since long before we were wed.  Here is our story - at the beginning.

When I was 14 years old, my family changed churches.   We'd been attending a Presbyterian church in our small town, and for reasons I won't get into here, it was time to move.

Some friends recommended a little country church about 15 minutes out of town.  It was a tiny place, in a tiny town, but incredibly pretty.   I was struck by the simplicity of the place. The stained glass windows, the humble wooden pews, the hymns.  We began attending regularly, and gradually got to know the church other people who went there.  They were the salt of the earth, truly.

In June of 1991 my parents invited the pastor and his family to join us for dinner in our home.  They lived in another town, but came anyway.  This family had two boys.  One was three years old and cute as a button.  The other?  He had just turned 17.  He was tall and lanky, with shiny brown hair falling down across his forehead.  He moved in the gangly manner often seen in teenagers.  He had a nice smile, but it was his eyes which really caught my attention.

Oh, those eyes.  My diary would hear volumes about those blue, blue eyes.

His name was Jeff.

If I'm shy now, I was doubly so as a teen.  Not used to conversing with boys, incredibly self-conscious...  Yet somehow this guy felt easy to talk to.  He was good at drawing me into conversation - about school, and the Driver's Ed. classes I was taking that summer. He was nice to my younger brother too.  I clearly remember that the evening ended with the three of us out in front of my house.  My brother and this young man were tossing around a basketball, and I sat on the front step watching them. Watching him.

Something about it all felt magical to me.  Perhaps it was the mild summer evening, the dawning dusk, the fireflies.  Maybe it was the sweetness of  my first real talk with a boy - his attentiveness, his kindness, the way he included my little brother.  (His eyes definitely had something to do with it.)

I knew, in a way I couldn't quite define, that something important had happened.  Whether it was simply a turning point in my adolescence or something more, I couldn't say.  But I liked this boy, in a way I hadn't felt before.  Don't misunderstand: I'd had crushes prior to this.  Plenty of them.  Yet something about this felt very, very different.  Somehow I knew that after June 19, 1991, I would never be the same again.

from the mouths of babes (on Father's Day)

Father's Day Questionnaire

What makes Dad happy?

Ben (9): When he's finally done with his work for the day.

Kyle (6): When kids have happy spirits and are making good choices.

Owen (4): When kids listen to his words.

Elise (2): Ice cream!

Gabriel (6 months): Bababababa.

How does your dad make you laugh?

Ben: When he tickles me.

Kyle: By being funny.

Owen: Wrestling.

Elise: {no comment}

Gabriel: Bababababa.

What does your dad do when you're not around?

Ben: Have sex with mom.

Kyle: I don't know, because I'm not around!

Owen: He looks for me.

Elise: Watches...

Gabriel: Babababa.

What is your dad really good at?

Ben: At making me laugh.

Kyle: Work. And hauling bark chips.

Owen: [Air] hockey and [table] tennis.

Elise: Throw! (throwing me)

Gabriel: Babababa.

What is your dad not very good at?

Ben: Nothing. He's good at everything.

Kyle: I'm just guessing, but...gymnastics?

Owen: Soccer. And football. And basketball. And baseball.

Elise: {no comment}

Gabriel: Babababa.

What does your dad do for a job?

Ben: Gives people life insurance.

Kyle: He's a computer guy. I don't really know what else.

Owen: Goes to work.

Elise: {no comment}

Gabriel: Babababa.

If your dad were a cartoon character, who would he be?

Ben: Kermit “thee” Frog.

Kyle: Mickey Mouse.

Owen: Lightning McQueen.

Elise: {no comment}

Gabriel: Babababa.

How are you and your dad the same?

Ben: We're both boys.

Kyle: We're both not very good at gymnastics...although I haven't tried it yet.

Owen: Getting dressed.

Elise: Baby.

Gabriel: Babababa.

How are you and your dad different?

Ben: He likes kale chips; I don't.

Kyle: Dad works and I don't.

Owen: I get dressed not the same as daddy, and daddy gets dressed not the same as me.

Elise: {no comment}

Gabriel: Babababa.

How do you know your dad loves you?

Ben: 'Cause he says so.

Kyle: He tells me every day.

Owen: He tells me at night.

Elise: Huggy!

Gabriel: Babababa.

What does your dad like most about your mom?

Ben: That she's pretty.

Kyle: That she's beautiful and caring.

Owen: When she's doing things right.

Elise: {no comment}

Gabriel: Babababa.

Happy Father's Day, Jeff!

{June 17, 2012}

15th on the 14th

Fifteen years ago, I married my best friend.  He has been my rock, my adviser, my partner, my lover, my sounding board, my support, and my friend.

Marrying this man was the best decision I have ever made.

I remember our wedding day.  It was a hot summer afternoon in northeastern Kansas, and I think the temperatures were in the 90s.  I remember that the sun was blazing down.

I remember the anticipation, the crowded country church.  i remember the very sweet, very young flower girl who wailed as she walked down the aisle.  But I remember that I was smiling as my father escorted me past our family and friends.  Some of these have passed on.  Some we haven't seen in years.  Some we see, happily, often.

I remember my groom's smile as well.  I remember the tears that flowed, the eager, famous "I will...I will."  I remember our mothers nearly forgetting to light the candles.  I remember looking at the young man beside me, believing that he was the only guy in the world for me.

I still believe that.

I wouldn't want to do this thing with anyone but my husband.  I am so, so grateful for the blessing he is in my life.

Happy Anniversary, Love.  I thank my God every time I remember you.  (Philippians 1:3)

on marrying young

Jeff and I got married when we were fairly young.  That is to say, he was fairly young, and I was practically still in diapers.  Alright, okay.  He was 23 years old, and I was twenty.  Hardly unheard of.  But all the same, pretty young.

And lately I've found myself thinking...how developed is one's personality, really, at that age?  Likes, dislikes, preferences. How one responds to stress, or conflict.   Personally, I feel that I'm quite a different person now than I was at the tender age of twenty.  Oh, many things have remained the same, such as my fascination with cookbooks, love of reading, and adoration of certain kinds of music.  I have maintained the same belief system.

But as I've grown and matured, things have shifted a bit.  Quite a bit. The way I respond to conflict.  Whether I stand up for myself in a tense situation - or don't.  The way I view people.  My worldview has expanded, and yet become more focused.  And I'm a mother, for heaven's sake.  I've been through a lot now which I hadn't back then.  Those experiences in and of themselves are incredibly shaping.

And here's the thing: as I look around at the adults around me, sometimes I just feel so blessed to find that I still like my husband.  Even speaking apart from LOVE here, I like him.  I liked him back then (obviously!), and I like him even more now.  I like the person he has become.

I like the way he fathers our children.  Oh, I'd seen him interact with kids before we got married.  His only sibling is a brother 14 years his junior, and I had seen how they were together.  I can truthfully say "I always knew he'd be a great dad."  But really, how can you know, at age 23, whether a guy will drag himself out of bed at 3 am to go cuddle our wailing toddler?  Whether he'll have a "sixth sense" about when a certain boy is running in circles beside his bed, desperate to use the toilet but too sleepy to know what to do about it?  How he'll react to a vomiting child, an annoyingly affected phrase repeated over and over until we all want to smash our heads into the wall...a sick wife?  How can you really know, when it's all yet to be experienced?

I like the way he serves our church.  I mean, I always knew he was a good guy - polite, well-liked by my parents (and all the other adults I knew).   But how could I know that he would get up early on the first Saturday of each month to organize and cook for a men's breakfast?  How could I guess just how tender his heart would be for those hurting in our church...how sympathetic, yet also practical and so wise.  How he'd recognize the multiple parts to any story, be utterly vulnerable with the other elders in our congregation, get to potlucks early to help set up tables and chairs?  How could I imagine that he would spontaneously suggest we head to the hospital to pray with an ailing member of our body?  How could I see that far?

I like his sense of humor.  The way he encourages me to find ways to laugh in so many situations, no matter how maddening they may be?  How he reminds me, when things feel sour, of all the sweetness which our life holds?  How could I have known that his occasionally cheesy jokes would mature into such a good-natured mentality, which adds such depth and richness to our times together?

I like the way he supports me.  His heart for homeschooling - how he encourages me when I sometimes feel so frustrated about the transition of doing school with two elementary ages,  (essentially) two toddlers and a baby in the mix.  How he's always willing to brainstorm ways to help things go more smoothly?  And even how, when I was going through a particularly dark time recently, he broached the idea of looking into a charter school?  I knew he must've been worried about me to suggest such a thing, and he passionately believes in homeschooling, but he loved me enough to make the suggestion.  (Don't look for any changes in our home educating soon, though.)  How could I have known, in those tender early years, how he'd encourage me in my interests, stick up for me with the children, and defend me when I've come under attack? How could I have guessed that I would've known I could always, always depend on him?

And I like the way he loves me.  The way I'll catch him grinning at me at the most unexpected times, affection written all over his face.  How he finds me attractive even when I feel my most repulsive. That he loves the way I look in sweat pants?  The fact that he loves my body, whether the size of my jeans is double digit number or a single.  How could I have known, gazing at him under the stars as he proposed, or standing with him in the front of that church, or even moving across the country with him when I was 24, how tender he would be with me, how sweet, how ardent, how faithful?   How could I possibly have guessed that the lanky teenager I fell in love with, the one with the piercing blue eyes and the oddly-colored pickup truck, the one who took me on my first date when I wasn't (quite) 15 years old...that he would be the love of my life - and what's more, the person I liked best in the whole wide world?

And I know...we've grown together.  We've shared experiences that have bonded us, built our marriage into what it's become.  And yes, there are ways that we're still those starry-eyed sweethearts on our wedding day on that hot summer day in Kansas.

But still.  Oh, still.  Sometimes I feel so blessed that I could burst.  Because not only have we chosen to love one another, not only does he still make my heart flutter and my pulse race, but truly, amazingly, wonderfully...

I still like him.  I really, really do.  And what's more, I like him better now than ever.

the 14th

Fourteen years ago I married my best friend. I can't imagine sharing my life with anyone else. I love you, Jeffery!

an anniversary

It's our Promiversary. Nineteen years. Amazing.

my husband...

...is celebrating his birthday today.

...is a fun-loving and devoted daddy.

...is the best husband I could have ever hoped for.

...serves.

...is far better at giving the benefit of the doubt than I am.

...plays a mean game of Scrabble.

...loves me, regardless of what size I'm wearing.

...extends grace to me with humbling regularity.

...is the love of my life!


I love you, Babe. I am so honored to be called your wife!

to my husband

Dearest Jeff,

You are such an unusual man. I am continually amazed at the ways you have led our family. I'm not even talking about the obvious stuff, like providing for us so well, and giving us the security a budget of bills paid on time. I'm not even talking about the way you plan romantic getaways for us...trips to the beach, the "Weekend to Remember" conferences. I'm not even talking about getting up at night when a particular son is having a rough time.

What I'm talking about is stuff like...guiding us toward water birth and eventually, the idea of birthing at home. Most husbands would've resisted, terrified at the idea. But you were the guiding force behind all that, and I am so very glad we decided to go down that path together.

What I'm talking about is stuff like...having a heart for homeschooling. I could never understand what you liked about it...I certainly resisted the idea for a long time. But you were right. I believe that the Lord made your heart tender for homeschooling, because if you hadn't been supportive, it would've been nearly impossible for me to take this plunge. I can never thank you enough for your support in the endeavor.

What I'm talking about is stuff like...not closing the door on more babies, no matter how much I campaigned. When I was absolutely sure I was "done," and was even fairly impatient with your lack of agreement, you stood firm. You had no peace about the idea, and there was no way I could expect you to make such a decision under those circumstances. Once again, you were right. Just a few months after that, God dramatically changed my own heart on the subject of more children.

My wise, sweet husband, I am forever grateful for your gentle leadership in our family, and your heart for God's will. Thank you for being patient with me.

You are a gem, a treasure. It is a rare guy who would do these things, choose these paths, accept these responsibilities. It is a rare guy who would regularly stand up in church and share very vulnerable stuff, for the sake of shining light on a dark subject and encouraging other men. Even though it's hard, and even though it's uncomfortable, you do it.

And so, I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you. How thankful. And how honored I am that God has allowed me to spend my life with you.

I thank my God every time I remember you. ~Philippians 1:3

life on the beach

Our family recently spent a few days on the Oregon coast for our family reunion. As always, we had a great time.

Kyle could not get his fill of beach time. He spent hours building in the sand, digging, and finding treasures.

Jeff and the boys got their kites going!
At one point Benjamin's kite got away from him. I have no idea how, but before I knew it, he took off down the sand, running as hard as he could. I held Jeff's kite, and he took off running after Ben. They ran and ran...I'd guess maybe 50 or 75 yards. I watched them with my heart in my throat, unable to tear my eyes away.

When I saw Ben lurch forward and land on his stomach, my heart sank. There was no doubt that he had lost his kite. Certainly his heart would be broken. Jeff caught up with our fleet-footed son as he began to rise, and he helped Ben as he slowly stood up. I fully expected to see him come back down the beach in tears.

Suddenly, though, I noticed something. The kite was not drifting away! To my amazement, I felt my eyes fill with tears. I was so glad for him, when I had been completely certain that his beloved snake kite was gone forever. After Ben and his dad trudged back, they told me that Benjamin jumped and landed on the kite handle. It seems like quite the gamble to me, but the boy reclaimed his kite.

Still, it was a while before my eyes were dry again. All over a boy and his kite. Motherhood is turning me into a sap.


My kids are such beach bums.

Look at my buried treasure!

Elise and her daddy got in some good father-daughter bonding time. She caught many a nap while being worn by him during our time away.

But the real reason we made this trip was to celebrate family. Here are Jeff's paternal grandma and grandpa. They have been grandparents to me also, and we cherish them. They've been an amazing example of faith and commitment, and they will leave a powerful legacy. Here is a photo of Bob and Yvonne with just some of their great-grandchildren.

All in all, a wonderful trip. But even wonderful trips can tucker a fella out!

dear fathers

For the memories, for the legacy, for the laughter...

...for the sacrifices, the loyalty, the example...

...for the tenderness, for the faithfulness...for the love. Thank you. You make it easy for my children and me to love our heavenly Father. You are a blessing!
Happy Father's Day.

for better, for worse

Thirteen years ago...


today.

These years have brought us places we never could have imagined in our wildest dreams. And I wouldn't have wanted to live this life with anybody else in the world.

Thank you, my Love. You have my heart, forever!

³I thank my God every time I remember you. - Philippians 1:3

farewell to the farmers' market

Today marked the end of the farmers' market until next year. I'll miss it dreadfully. In spite of many rainy weekends during the past few months, I went by there on as many Saturdays as I could manage it.

It'll be much more of a challenge to find local produce during the winter and spring. I do have a few ideas, though. I'm blessed to know of a local farm stand not far from here, and I'm told they'll be open through December. There's a place near the new house which may be selling for a bit longer. And we have a few grocery stores around here (including a tiny natural foods market with impressive customer service) where I may be able to find some local items.

On this particular Saturday, after doing battle with the flu which has attacked my boys for most of the week, I am now feeling under the weather, myself. So Jeff gallantly offered to go in my stead. What would I do without that guy?

He came away, arms loaded with a huge sack of potatoes, luscious red grapes (what a treat!), apples, carrots, and an enormous butternut squash. And then he went to the grocery store. What a prince! We'll be sitting pretty for the rest of the week, and then some.

I'll miss heading there on Saturday mornings, no doubt about it. I'll miss the fabulous prices, the festive atmosphere, the friendly faces, and the fresh local fare.

But I know that our beloved farmers' market will return in the spring. It may be a little tentative at first, but before long there'll be tender asparagus, leafy heads of lettuce, fresh Oregon berries, peaches, and so much more. It'll all be back.

And so will I.

more "postcards"

Greetings, worthy readers!

We're still cruising, but I thought I'd share a few more shots.

Here is a photo of Jeff and I on Cruise Elegant night. All dressed up, finished with dinner, and waiting for the show to start. Jeff was a gentleman enough to offer me his jacket.

This boat brought us to Las Caletas, an hour from Puerto Vallarta. Check out that gorgeous water!

As two Oregon residents, swimming in warm ocean water was such a novelty!
Sadly, we didn't get any photos of Jeff and I in our snorkeling gear. And you know what? I'm okay with that. It was super cool, though!

Back in the city of Puerto Vallarta, the view from our restaurant's balcony. We dined and watched the sun set over the water.

if they could see me now

Greetings from somewhere on the Pacific Ocean!

Jeff and I are having a wonderful time, and I thought I'd sent you a few select photos (in lieu of a postcard of something) from our trip so far.

No, I didn't get a pedicure, or even paint my toenails before setting out on this trip. Yes, I am regretting it.

In happier news, this is a photo of my steak dinner from last night. Grilled flat iron steak, macaroni and cheese, creamed peas and vichy carrots. Yum.

The service staff on this ship is amazing. I can't remember the last time a man pulled out my chair for me. And the waiter shook out the napkin and placed it on my lap, for crying out loud.

Towel animals every night! So fun....

Until next time,