The Promise

Ten years ago you gave a promise that at this anniversary, you'd upgrade my diamond into something bigger and better. And ten years ago, that sounded sweet and wonderful. What girl, after all, doesn't want bigger diamonds, right?

At that time, you also promised something else.

You promised to love.

To have.

To hold.

Forever....

And since those promises, life has happened.

We had him.

Then this one.

And then--surprise--this one came along.

Three grand jewels for my heart.

And through these ten years, you loved.

You kept.

You held.

In good times and in the not so good.

So while a well-meaning promise of bigger and better has to be put on hold, thank you for fulfilling the only promise that's really been important to me. Despite the marketing hype and my undying love of the bling, diamonds aren't my best friend.

You are.

P.S. The substitute IS pretty awesome though :)

Love you forever....

Josiah, the Big Five

Happy birthday to my sweet Josiah,

the cutest five year old little boy on the planet.

I bought you this: Swiss crafted, high quality magnets to stimulate creativity and logical reasoning. You can make triangles, boxes, and spheres all the while learning geometry through play.

You liked it all right.

You promptly dug in, and made this:

A pack of bullets.

A really big, expensive pack of bullets "enough for a machine gun!!"

And Levi made a sword.

You boys are such boys.

The Sweetness of Boys

It's easy for babies to be sweet.

Particularly my baby. He's a lover, not a fighter.

But there's something super sweet when a teenage boy--a very big teenage boy--takes the time to tickle the toes of a baby.

I think that some of what separates the boys from the men is tied to how a man will care for the "least of these."

Caleb's on the right track.

Thanks for being a blessing to my little one, if only for a moment.

Flowers

Sweet Josiah.

I was trying to fix dinner and you kept arriving at the door.

To give me beautiful flowers that you picked just for me. Sometimes one at a time and sometimes by your little handful.

What joy it was to put down the task at hand, see your sweet face at the door, and receive from you...

preciousness.

We all know those weren't really flowers in the true horticultural sense. But they were beautiful to you, so they became beautiful to me.

Thank you, baby.

The Birthday of One, and the Birth of Another

I can't believe it's been over three months since I last blogged. I've got so much to catch up on!

Before I do, I want to share yesterday. It was Josiah's birthday. The big 0-4, and I bought you a Transformer that none of us can figure out how to transform (we need a 10 year old to help us), a board game with lots of pieces (apparently I blanked out when buying this for you...one piece is already in the vacuum), and this awesome hat. You thought it was great, too...for about 7 minutes. Whether you like it or not I'm making you wear it for every birthday until you're 37. It will be a tradition that you make fun of me for when you're older. And I'm OK with that.

Papa and Nana took you out to McDonalds, bought you a Diego card that sings--loudly--, and gave you a karate outfit for "Hiking Buddy," which is what you really wanted. You and big brother are currently using the different colored belts to arrest your bears and blindfold them. And, by the way, you claim that you can already jump higher and run faster than when you were merely three.

I marveled at how much has changed, and yet stayed the same since last year this time. As usual, orange sweet rolls were still a big hit. But there was something definitely different about this year: a new brother, who doesn't seem so new at this point. It's like we've always had the little guy. I can't remember what it was like without him a year ago.

Daddy went to work at 2pm, leaving me to fend by myself. I had a really bad afternoon. Gideon was really grumpy and tired and wouldn't nap, you kids were fighting, I was trying to make dinner, was getting phone calls for your birthday and about Aunt Paula being admitted into the hospital, trying to make chocolate chip cookies that I promised for Awana tonight, had alfredo sauce boiling over, Levi fell off a chair sending both him and Gideon into tears, etc. It was literally so bad that I gathered the three of you up and I prayed.

We sat down to dinner and the whining started, I had to cut everyone's food, Gideon was miserable and teething, and you spilled your water (of course). Still putting cookies in the oven, answering phone calls....

And then Levi, you told Josiah, "You need to get saved." Daddy and I had been praying for you to get saved and here you were "preaching" salvation to your brother. That brought up a conversation about your own salvation.

Long story short: in the middle of mayhem, God saved you, and I had the greatest privilege in the world to lead you. It's amazing how God's still voice pierced through the chaos of the day. As Nana said (and I agree), Satan was doing his best to not let it happen, but God prevailed. He spoke to your little heart despite the mayhem that was happening at the same time.

You were so excited, you had no trouble telling everyone you could think to tell, even speaking into the microphone in front of the choir to tell them too. You had always been too shy to speak into it before, but you were bold that night. When I asked you if I could share with the choir the good news, you asked me if you could do it yourself. I hope you remember the sound of all the saints in that room that rejoiced with you that moment. Today you asked me to read from the Bible about salvation. I read to you John 3:14-17 and you said, "I did that!" Sweet boy, happy spiritual birthday to you.

It was a happy happy day, indeed.

One Day...

One day I will not have to navigate around Rescue Heroes, Legos, Tinker Toys, cars, and trucks to arrive at my seat on the couch

And I won't have to put furniture to cover bad paint touch up jobs that are covering the wayward crayon marks

Or glass missing from my new furniture from another little boy's elbow during a spinning marathon

And I'll have equipment that hasn't been sliced by a little boy with an Indian arrowhead that Nana and Papa gave him

And lamps, fully intact.

But today is not that day.

And for that, I am grateful.

Slaps

The game of slaps...it must be a rite of passage for every little boy.

Here's Josiah and Daddy. Daddy's gonna take it easy on my runt; he's three after all.

And he loves this game; he usually just spins his arms around wildly so he won't get the big slap, but Daddy always gets him anyway.

Then there's Levi.

The kid-who-likes-no-pain inexplicably loves this game.

He laughs so hard he can hardly stand up.

And then goes back for more.

Most of the fun is in the anticipation....

Ha! Daddy missed that time!

And then he got ya!

Hey, Taterbug! What do you think of all this?