Wednesday, August 8, 2012

The Old Lady that Swallowed a Fly and Other Tender Mercies

I have started and stopped 5 posts in the last week. Living in someone elses space has caused me to loose my writing voice a little. My parents are so kind to let us be here while we wait for our house to be built but it feels a little like my life is not my own for now.

I still cant sit through church without missing my ward and I still cant drive the kids to school in the morning without longing to stay there in the neighborhood-where we belong. Being temporary anywhere just leaves you feeling lost and I find myself thinking of nothing other than the home we left and the home awaiting us.

On the other hand, all these feelings of longing and loneliness for home, produce guilt, especially when I think of my brother who kissed his wife good-bye this week then boarded a plain to Afghanistan.

So chin up right? But in the meantime: boring, lifeless posts, or none at all in last weeks case.

I have learned that time never stands more still, than when you are waiting for something. And the waiting makes me curious. (thanks Alice-I get what you mean) Curious about the decisions we made and the results of those decisions playing out. There were reasons for our move that I have never spoken about. Concerns known only to Scott and I and when I think of those things, I remember about faith and how without faith, I am left with only fear and second guessing. Boy am I good at second guessing. Amazingly enough there are tender mercies at every turn. The evidence of Heavens love all around...it never leaves, never hides and never gives up, even when I have my head buried deep under the covers and fail to notice it.

Heavens love delivered by tender mercies this week....

Sunday was fast Sunday. My 3 older kids fast along with Scott and I, the twins until lunch time and Kaden goes all the way through. Every fast Sunday Branson makes speeches to me about how starving he is. My response is always the same,

"then go eat."

And then he wails about how he just cant because he'll feel bad....
"but I'm STARVING...WAHHHH!"
That boy is in a battle with himself, I tell you. But my fast Sunday was sweet and tender as I love seeing Kaden's determine efforts to be obedient. He is a champ on fast Sunday. His 12 year old, growing frame can have an absolutely insatiable apatite, he eats all day long. But once a month he quietly goes with out and does it so full of faith that it inspires me. We do hard things Kaden boy and someday Branson will too...thanks for your example.



































Another tender mercy has been Brylee's swimming. She's pretty good.












































And by pretty good, I mean that in her last 2 meets she has come home with 5 golds, 1 silver and the high point trophy from city finals.  Now, if that isn't a grotesque display of parental bragging, I don't know what is, but seeing her speed through the water and love every minute of it, is a joy to me.

And while I am at it, I could tell you that she has a gorgeous body lined with muscle,  a head set on determination and a heart full of kindness and sportsmanship. I could tell you that she swam against one of my best friends girls (giving us a good excuse to reminisce) and that her swim meet was the most fun I have had in ages.


























Ella tells me everyday that, she NEVER wants to grow up to be a Mom. She says that,

"Mom's don't like gum, they don't play dress up and if I grow up to be a Mom then my swimmy suits wont fit."

Valid points, right?  But then why do I find her like this....








































It warms my heart. She even uses the steps of the stairs to play, "church", where she and several babies sit reverently for like 5 seconds. She gets her babies to be reverent for about as long as I get mine to be,  in real church. Only I at least see that my babies are dressed, hers always worship there on the stair, entirely nude.

























Ella can really wear me out. She has a demanding side to her that I swear could break Al-Qaeda. But she's got a goodness in there also and when it shows up, I like to indulge completely in  her sweetness. So last night when she came to my bed and told me to turn off the t.v. (Olympics) I gladly clicked the button and gathered her in. She likes to lay smack on top of me, her tummy to mine and then she lifts her shirt for a back tickle. Oddly enough, her song request as of late is,

"There was an Old Lady that Swallowed a Fly".

So I sing and tickle and breath-in every bit of her 4 year old self. I try to memorize the weight of her body on mine and the curve of her cheek on my chest. There is nothing as pure as the feel of a baby, going from awake to asleep right in your arms. The last flutter of heavy eyes, the way their breathing slows into deep, long huffs and the pressing feel of a sleeping frame molded around you is something of Heaven.

Branson conquered sock folding. A true miracle to behold! He's the first of my children to master this skill and if I do nothing else good as a mother, count me a success for this accomplishment, could you please? All other faults can be forgiven of a child who can properly fold socks. Amen.




























And although Cali is at her prime-empty out every cupboard and drawer-age, she is always, ALWAYS a tender mercy in my life. Cant get enough of her baby delight!


















The tender mercies of the Lord are available to all of us and that the Redeemer of Israel is eager to bestow such gifts upon us.
Elder Bednar


2 comments:

Anna said...

I love how you are able stop and do the truly important things like rubbing Ella's back, those things that we will never get to do again. I keep telling myself that the dishes and housework will be there tomorrow but my babies won't.

Katie said...

I can very much relate to your feelings right now. It is so hard to be temporarily anywhere. We miss our home and long for our new one. I appreciate you sharing your feelings. They helped to make me feel not so alone in mine.

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