A LampPost Flickering

I think this year ge ts the award for “Fastest Flier.” Can you believe that it's alr eady Chris tmas? I feel like it was just last month that I was churning out our 2009 Chri stmas newsletter, and here I am, at eleven o'clock in the pm, reflecting over the past year and praying over what to share with you for 2010. We anticipate this being our last Christmas in C orpus Christi, as we expect to be moving to a new duty station next summer. We have been told that we will be moving to Jacksonville, North Carolina some time late next summer or early autumn, but as anyone in the military will tell you, until Rob's orders are in hand , there's just no guarantee when or even where we will rotate. So we do what we have lear ned to do: enjoy where we're at while we're here. Bloom where we've been planted. We have loved our two years in Corpus Christi, TX, and although we look forward to the new adventures that await us, we will all be a little sad to leave our h

I couldn't talk my all-boy boy into a Christmasy candy-cane cast. The camo makes him smile. Which makes me smile. And now his arm comes with a bludgeon.

Don't let Mr. Serious fool you. He's feeling fine. As fine as you can be with a broken arm. He says his arm doesn't hurt right now, and he using it to scroll around on some computer games as I type. Interesting tidbit: attached to his broken arm is his beloved sucking thumb. With the right cast, we may have stumbled upon a thumb-sucking intervention program. (Is that mean?) I do, really, feel bad that his arm has been broken for three days. But even the doctor was shocked at Seth's lack of pain...or his super-hero level of pain tolerance. Not sure which. He was laughing and smiling and teasing. I can't hang on to guilt too tightly.

3:36 a.m. I awoke to a feverish nine-year old tunneling under our comforter from the foot of the bed to the pillow end. He used to do this--as stealthily as possible--as a toddler. I knew something was up, and my Sherlock senses were affirmed when he proceeded to unstealthily leap out of my bed to puke. 6:04 a.m. Gabe finally appeared to sleeping peacefully, this time on the couch with a puke bowl at his side, and I shuffled back to bed. 6:05 until 9:08 a.m. Assylum-worthy dreams reeled through their crickety film projector behind my eyes, one after another. I would have rested better not falling asleep. 9:10 a.m. I prayed a blessing on Rob for leaving me with some coffee, just enough to give me the clarity to brew another pot. Function level: minimum. 9:20 until 11:00 a.m. I turned off the cartoons that kept the kids occupied while I slept in (don't judge!) and got everybody breakfasted and dressed and started with school. Gabe still felt sick, but he listened to a couple of books

Dress-up is serious business at my house. Christmas 2003, Caleb--4, Gabe--2 1/2 It started early on. Dowagiac, MI, September 2004 Caleb, tenderly aged five, played the part of a little orphan boy our town's reenactment of the Orphan Train Riders, which made its first stop in Dowagiac, MI in 1854. Caleb had one line, "Do you think I could go, too, sir?" He was so dang cute, and even now, I'm haunted by his little voice squeaking that haunting line, and I hear the phantom voices of the thousands of children who needed families. Most of the children who rode the Orphan Train were never adopted. Christmas Parade of Lights float, Dowagiac, MI 2004 (Please forgive the poor quality of this photo: poorest of lighting and crappy camera. I'm surprised it turned out as well as it did!) Seth's first role in a play. His role at two months of age? Baby Jesus. Please disregard Mary's out-of-character black gloves. She wasn't prepared for how bitterly cold it is atop

"Give us wisdom." Recently, as our family prayed around the dinner table, three of the kids made this request of God. My heart flooded with love for these precious gems of mine who felt prompted to pray for wisdom before digging into dinner. I don't think they prayed for wisdom because school was a little hard that day, or because they wanted to impress Mom and Dad with grown-up sounding prayers. They prayed sweetly and earnestly. And God spoke to me through their prayers. At once He reminded me of this precious promise found in James 1:5: " If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him." I lack wisdom. I surely do. And I need to be like my kids, and remember to ask for it before the crisis hits, throughout the common parts of the day--like dinnertime. Lord, I lack wisdom, and because I know that you are generous, I ask for You to bless me with wisdom. I also ask for godly wisdom for

School's been going on strong from my four little scholars for the past three weeks. This is the first year in six years of homeschooling that we "officially" started school before Labor Day. What was the difference this year? I don't know. Often the seat of my pants flies before me, and I just follow along. Actually, the local public schools started on the 23rd, two of our close homeschooling family friends decided to start up, and it's just too bloomin' hot here right now to do much else. I don't have any cute pictures of them climbing on the bus or dressed up with their oversized backpacks and squeaky new shoes. But perhaps a few candids from inside our classroom might stir-up some nostalgic back-to-school feelings. So this is what it looked like in front of my chair for the three weeks prior to school: Every year our school changes flavor a little bit to match our family. Or because something we did last year didn't quite work, or because one kid h