::Little Snapper::

We are having a snapping turtle sleepover tonight. The kids found him just outside the ditch by the road. They showed the bus driver who asked if she could bring it home to her little girl tomorrow. "Can you take good care of him for me for one night?" I think we can manage.

::Boat-shoe genius::

Leonardo da Vinci. I've been fascinated by him ever since I saw that silly Drew Barrymore Cinderella movie in which da Vinci walks on water with these wooden boat-shoes. He really was a well-rounded genius.

When this promo appeared in my inbox, I just had to send Caelah:

She's already sculpted a dragon. Six more weeks of artsy fun to come. I envy her a little.

::Little Kings in Paper Crowns::

As Samuel turned to go away, Saul seized the skirt of his robe, and it tore. . . he said, “I have sinned; yet honor me now before the elders of my people and before Israel, and return with me, that I may bow before the Lord your God.” ~1 Samuel 15 

Saul. Notorious. Nefarious. A tad cracked in the head. The making of the man is a study in human frailty. Strapping man reduced to unhinged paranoia and blood lust. Most have charged King Saul with arrogance, spoils-taker and monument-maker that he was. {1 Sam. 15} But that is not the word I would choose for him. The word I would choose is lodged much deeper in his marrow. It is a blight of a word that sends out suckers into the mind, implanting thoughts and ideas with barbed hooks that won't let go. The word that comes to mind when I read about the man is one I am well familiar with. Insecurity.

Saul's broad frame carried the weight of all of our human assumptions. Strong frames make strong men, yes? Saul knew better. His big body housed a very small man that preferred hiding behind beast and baggage than accepting kingship. In modern narratives, this show of 'passing up the crown, so to speak, is seen as humbly heroic. Over-burdened princesses flee their gilded lives to live in free anonymity. But what if God himself calls us to the crown? Did God mistake Moses' repeated excuses of inadequacy and bumbling tongue as humility? He did not. In fact, Moses earned himself a sharp rebuke; "Who do you think made that mouth of yours?" (Exodus 4)

While Moses, who stood bare before burning glory, eventually conceded the point that God could-- and would-- make much of nothing at all, Saul, never really came out from behind his baggage. "You are little in your own eyes," Samuel once told him. "But God has anointed you King!." What this old man might have said was; Saul, stop pandering to Self and Man and let God do his work through you! But, Saul remained Saul's own captive audience, lead by the voices in his head reminding him he was nothing, and the voices of the people reminding him he was their everything. A Spirit-housed man, with access to big power and confidence, unable to find purchase on the crumbling slopes of his kingship because he was very much pre-occupied with his own littleness.

Such a devoted contemplation of self tends to lead to a little bit of crazy.

A wise man spoke out simple truth this past week. He spoke about service. He said that so many serve out of a desperation to make something of themselves before God and Man. But if that service doesn't yield a crop of admirers and back-pats and dinner invites, smiles slip, confidence wains and the work is soon abandoned. "We struggle to become servants because we we do not want to feel insignificant. We want to feel valued." We forget that our value is found in the love that was always ours, painted in blood by the greatest servant of all.  There is great security to be found in this; that our worth has been signed and sealed in blood.

This is what insecurity looks like: A very big man, in very fancy clothes, lunging at a very old man, hands grasping in desperation. Torn hem in hand, ragged, this big fancy man begs. Stay! Stay with me. Please. Make me look like a king in front of these people! Saul, with his crumpled paper crown. A play-actor king.

He had it all wrong, of course. Because insecurities are hissing lies. He should have been grasping at a much holier robe, begging this instead; God, make Yourself King through me. This is the request of lasting kings and eternal servants in forever-crowns. (1 Cor. 9) A request made by Moses, also made in desperation to God himself. Come! Stay with us, your people. Please. (Exodus 33) "Is it not in your going with us, that we are distinct, I and your people, from every other people on the face of the earth?" Unlike Saul, Moses knew that we only fall out of security and into ourselves when we naval gaze. Best to look out and up at the protective wings of the Divine.

I wear a paper crown a lot of the time. It rumples into new creases each time I bow in service to the wrong god with the wrong motivations stemming from my very own whispering, thieving, lying insecurities. But, mercifully and wondrously, there, beneath my paper crown, is another crown. No matter how many times I fall back on paper security. No matter how worn and tattered it grows at times, an imperishable identity and crown was payed for in full, and placed on my head well before I took to play-acting at greatness. Imagine that. A kingdom where big men never come out from behind their own 'littleness, but 'little' people are carried and called to very big things.

::Just because::

::Wit::

Raw. This was extremely painful to watch. I can't recall the last time I was transported into a hollowed-out space of hopelessness and sorrow. But I resided there for about an hour and a half today. I shouldn't have expected less really,  when the topic was cancer and the actress was Emma Thompson. Do watch it. Do pray with fresh grief and determination for those who are alone and suffering.

I've added a video of the part that was. . . well it was everything. I'm not sure I will ever see another thing like it. (Try and ignore the Spanish subtitles. It's all I could find.) If you have no intention of watching the full movie, find a quiet moment to watch it. Otherwise wait.

"Look at that. A little allegory of the soul. Wherever it hides God will find it."

::Birthday Delights::

1. Vanilla Pound Cake with Whipped Cream and Berries
2. A huge bouquet of sunrise-coloured flowers
3. Tacos from The Taco Lot in Hintonburg
4. Donuts from SuzyQ's

::Alice's::

::Five Birthdays:

ive birthdays rolled into one party. Very efficient of us all.

::Mirror Mirror::

We're always months behind here. So we only just watched this, and we loved it. So quirky.

::Just Yellow::

::Cape Henlopen::

We made this side trip for love of the ocean, but also for the sake of my little brother, who had never been to the sea. The drive there almost unhinged us-- our air-conditioning died, and we were stuck in traffic for hours. We also ended up burnt-red from a full day in the water and sun. But it was worth it.

::Lake Anna::

Our last big trip with the kids was a 22 hour trek across several states to visit cousins in Atlanta. This time we met them part way in Virginia. A family reunion of sorts. There remains an ache in me for having left them.

 {Pit stop at the Donath's in Syracuse the first night. It was all about the trampoline for the kids.}

We spent the week at Lake Anna State Park. Each family had their own air-conditioned cabin, without which we may not have survived beyond the first hour. And every few cabins had docks, off of which we swam, despite the NO SWIMMING signs. The beach was too hot, and too far away, and too full of whistle-blowing lifeguards.

Lake Anna's wildlife offerings: One poisonous copperhead that was bashed in and beheaded by our cousin. A red fox that streaked across Connor's feet sending him sprawling. A large snorting, snuffling, branch-snapping creature behind Justin and Grace's cabin that remained unidentified. We can't forget the brain-eating amoeba's. And there lurked in the back of our minds the tale of the rabid beaver.

 {Some photo cred. to Justin and Grace. Thanks!}

There were 18 children between us, and they wandered like little nomads from cabin to cabin. On the snack trail. Because eating and swimming is really what we concentrated on that week. We threw in a games night here and a colossal water balloon fight there. And the restless among us would up and escape to Fredericksburg.

There was talk of moving the reunion Northward in two years. The heat and the killer wildlife may have been a factor. But I was there for the people, so in the words of Ruth; "Where you go, I will go," my dear cousins of the South.

::Osgoode Medieval Fair::

A repeat experience for sure. Hopefully next year will not be in record-breaking heat again. Those poor, poor men in tights!

 

{::Kingdom of Osgoode::}

::The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society"

ransportive. Is that a word? I want to go to Guernsey. I want to see these non-existent people face-to-face. I haven't been entirely here this week because I have been half-there.

I knew I was completely engrossed when I couldn't leave the audio cd's in the van, but brought them in to play while I cooked and cleaned. Sadly, that meant that I finished in a few short days. I feel the ache of ending.

In a Nutshell:

Winding up her book tour promoting her collection of lighthearted wartime newspaper columns, Juliet Ashton casts about for a more serious project. Opportunity comes in the form of a letter she receives from Mr. Dawsey Adams, who happens to possess a book that Julia once owned. Adams is a member of the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society—no ordinary book club. Rather, it was formed as a ruse and became a way for people to get together without raising the suspicions of Guernsey’s Nazi occupiers. Written in the form of letters (a lost art), this novel by an aunt-and-niece team has loads of charm, especially as long as Juliet is still in London corresponding with the society members.~ Booklist

Quotable Bits:

"Isola doesn't approve of small talk and believes in breaking the ice by stomping on it.” 

“...but I much prefer whining to counting my blessings.”

"People don't know how chickens can turn on you, but they can -- just like mad dogs.” 

::Diapers::

I have been elbow-deep in diapers. Tonight that was particularly true as I unpacked two mega-sized boxes of sizes 4 and 5 on the bathroom floor. As I did so, my eldest daughter felt the need to point something out:

Soon?!

::Elijah's 8th::

 

It is possible. To love a boy more and more with each year he grows. This year he asked for crepes, tacos (soft-shell) and Lime Poppyseed Cake. Oh, and walkie-talkies. Roger that. Plus, Aidan threw in a ticket to the local race track. Lij loves his cars.

What he doesn't know is that tomorrow he's going to a Medieval Festival. His siblings have managed to keep it under wraps so far. We'll see how long they hold out tomorrow on the LONG drive there.

::Seven Lanterns::

even lanterns complete. Finally. It feels good. The order came in a few months ago for a September wedding. I was asked to make custom lanterns to represent each member of the bridal party. An annual trip to the orchard with a sister. A friend who loves road trips. A wedding in Mexico. . .

::Near. Able. Willing.::

"I will do for you all that you have asked." ~Boaz to Ruth

The pages of Scripture are vitally alive. Pages 222 through 224 of my little ESV are ink pressed to paper. Bound and still. But taken in by these eyes, at this moment, and applied to this heart, they speak. They burn and prod. They bathe and mend. They pose questions that demand a response.

Ruth. Boaz. Names attached to people who lived stories. Who lived good stories. If hearing is not enough, but doing reveals the hidden alliances of our hearts then these two hearts were evidently undivided and wholly sworn to their God. And loyalty breeds likeness. Patterns emerge.

Near. Able. Willing.

Three words. Three positional points of reference on the maps of our spiritual battle-plans. A triune call to splay out our fingers wide in the spaces we've been placed. Striving to the ends of our fingertips to catch hold of someone. Anyone. To hold. To save. To make free.

Boaz. A man who caught hold of a lost woman.
Near. Don’t go and glean in another field and don’t go away from here. Stay here with my servant girls. {Ruth 2:8}
Able. Is not Boaz, with whose servant girls you have been, a kinsman of ours?{Ruth 3:2}
Willing. And now, my daughter, don’t be afraid. I will do for you all you ask. {Ruth 3:11}

Ruth. A daughter who caught hold of a grieving mother.
Near. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. {Ruth 1:16}
Able to walk away. Return home, my daughters. Why would you come with me? {Ruth 1:11}
Willing to stay. Then Orpah kissed her mother-in-law good-by, but Ruth clung to her. . . Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. {Ruth 1:16}

Jesus. Redeemer who caught hold of of us all.
Near. Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might destroy him who holds the power of death-- {Hebrews 2:14-15}
Able. Therefore he is able to save completely those who come to God through him, because he always lives to intercede for them. {Heb. 7:25}
Willing. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many. {Mark 10:45}

The other. Empty-handed redeemer of none.
Near. . . .there is a kinsman-redeemer nearer than I. {Ruth 3:12}
Able. "If you will redeem it, do so. . . For no one has the right to do it except you, and I am next in line.” {Ruth 4:5}
Unwilling. . . .the kinsman-redeemer said, “Then I cannot redeem it because I might endanger my own estate. You redeem it yourself. I cannot do it.” {Ruth 4:6}

This must be one of the most tragic ways for a Christian to spend her life: In the right place with the right resources but without a willing heart." ~Minter

It is the unwillingness, in the end, that has our fingertips catching only empty air. The near and able, who are us all, grow distant and powerless, despite the thrum of and call of the Spirit within. We are reduced. Stripped of our unearthly-shine. Our presence here made inconspicuous. Creatures of purpose dressed as wallflowers. Pressed up against earthly fixtures whose seeming-solidity bring comfort that will not last.

We are the Near. We are all near wraiths outside the light. Draw nearer still.
We are the Able. We've all been poured into by our Maker. Imprinted with power to make a catch. Have courage. God in and through us.
We are the Willing. Because none of this is about us anyways. All of the beauty and benefits of this life are tasted in the heat of God's hand, when we are being used.

I will do for you all that you have asked.

Personal Note: I keep discovering no-entry zones in my life where I will not go. I am near. I am able, in Christ. But I am not willing. And, frankly, I'm tired of tip-toeing around the perimeters of these old fears. And I'm tired of my rote tendency to employ self-preservative defensive tactics. Basically, I'm super-exhausted of going to accomplish something of worth, but finding me barring the way.

::Unpacking::

Unpacking another mother's bag has undone me today. Unfolding tiny, faded shirts and pants and placing them in empty drawers that were not their planned destination. Thinking of the hands that tucked them one by one into the bag. Folding away days, maybe weeks, maybe months of time. Did they linger over the task?

I lingered. Over the unpacking. I bent over my task of unfolding and cried. Praying as I withdrew each small bundle. Make her whole. Placed each article in a drawer. Bring her peace. Closed the half-empty drawers. Bring her you, Father.

 {Photo: Along the path to our new swimming hole today.}

::Fitzroy 2012::

This was a monumental year for us. We arrived at camp with a sixth child. Last Wednesday we welcomed our first foster child into our home. We got that call in the afternoon as I was unwinding from my usual morning-rush, and I was told we had a few minutes to decide. "No pressure," the woman chuckled apologetically. It took me ten heart-racing, prayer-filled minutes to reach Aidan at work. But we arrived at a very quick yes. And our little girl arrived an hour later.

It breaks my heart that I can't share photos of her beautiful little face, or tell you much about her at all. But let me just say that, already, we love her so deeply. She has found it in herself to love me like a mother, and my little duckling trails behind me everywhere I go. I often have to stop and just hold her close until she feels secure enough to explore a little more. And, oh, her smile. We go to great lengths to bring out that smile. Her eyes disappear and two perfect dimples appear beside her mouth. It's addictive.

The kids have been amazingly accommodating. Caelah, especially, devoted those first days to being a second-mama to her new sister. Isaiah often comes along to pat her cheek. And Annorah. . . she is enthralled. Too frequently, she presses her forehead into --let's call her Ruah. It's a name I've loved for awhile and won't have occasion to use otherwise-- into Ruah's forehead with a loving intensity that leaves her sister a bit uncomfortable. But there are times that they form a partnership that works. I caught Nor feeding Ru her yogurt this morning. It was great big mess, but a worthwhile one.

Ru will be with us for at least a month. We don't know much more than that. So we'll savour the time we have.

{Photo credit: Some of these photos were taken by Sarah P. Thanks Sarah!}