Twelve/Twelve

Sol is sprawled out sleeping at the top of the stairs like a dog. He’s going through a phase where he doesn’t want to lay down in his bed, or do anything I ask of him, so he pouts at the top of the stairs until he passes out. Sometimes he dumps laundry on the floor, uses the hamper as a step stool and covers himself in deodorant from atop my dresser. He’s quite the booger and is really good at pushing buttons, but his sweet grin and dimples wins me over every time.

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It’s the end of the year and I’ve been reflecting a bit on the fact that we’ve added two people to our household this year. We got rid of one restaurant. It’s quite a lot of change, but it’s good rebuilding change, and I am thankful for all the neat things God prompts us to do.

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Our house feels so small now that it’s winter. We may have added an entire addition, but the kids and I still generally spend all our time in the same room. I remember fondly the days that we lived in a 2,700 square foot house and wonder how it would feel to have extra room with these four kids + one grandma. Of course, this thought process is impossible because this IS what we have and it’s great to be squished together all the time (or so I tell myself).

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I was nursing Winnie to sleep tonight while watching the shadows of our paper snowflakes dancing on the ceiling. It is amazing how magical some cut paper can make a room look, and even more amazing that the boys are getting old enough to actually make some beautiful ones.

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God is truly a God of miracles, of healing, and of answered prayers. It NEVER looks like what I think nor do I think I could write up an accurate portrayal of the amazing work he has been doing in my life and in our community. His timing is perfect, it is good, and it so much more radical, yet normal, than I could ever have imagined.

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Brad and I are married so we have arguments. Often they’re stupid and about rabbits and other times they’re about big and important topics like our kids or what we’re doing with our lives. The days are so full taking care of others that when everyone is finally in bed (or passed out at the top of the stairs) the last thing I want to do is spend that time arguing. Sometimes we go to bed mad only to wake up with an anger hangover. Today my love brought home a huge bouquet of daisies, big enough to fill two quart jars, because of a difficult conversation (read: fight) last night. It’s so good to be loved and to love.