and the surgeon says....

(tell me some of you watched Family Feud)

...wait.

Yep. Wait. Four little letters making a word that drives me batty. I am not a wait kind of gal. I'm a let's fix it so I can move on with life kind of gal.

Actually, the surgeon wants me to do 3 weeks of intense physical therapy to see if we can strengthen that pesky pesky shoulder of mine. My mri was fairly inconclusive thanks to almost 20 year old anchors placed in my shoulder from my previous surgeries. So, I have to work with a physical therapist in order to judge strength and stability. Starting today.

That means if I have surgery it will be in the beginning of September. When school starts.

I had intended to start this school year running. Flying. On schedule. You know, organized. Ready to go. Ahead of the curve. Eager. Not possibly recovering from major shoulder surgery.

Let it go.

That's what I'm telling myself. Learning doesn't have to start in early September. We can start later. Let it go. Let it go. Let it go. But, I don't want to. I want to cling so tightly to this idea of having the perfect 2011-2012 school year that takes place with a magnificent launch in September. Oh, that was my wish.

I'm starting to realize that success and joy cannot be based on a silly September start date.

Let it go.

We cling to stuff, don't we? It's ironic the things that get me worked up -- schedules, and organization, and the perfect plans. When they don't seem to go the way I had envisioned it takes me a bit to regroup -- to let it go. But, you know, if I sat here lamenting about my not so ideal September it would trickle down to my family. They'd pick up on the vibe, the mood that I'm in. I don't want frustration to run deep -- that's not me.

So I tell them that ninja mom is going to go work that shoulder out. And who knows -- maybe I won't need surgery and can just get by doing physical therapy for the next 3-4 months. Ha ha ha -- my arms would be in awesome shape.

Let it go.

But whatever it is? I'm okay with it. We'll adapt. And life doesn't have to be based on that day in September.

I won't let it be.

I'm letting it go.

lessons i've learned

some of what i've learned
being the momma of seven
who seeks joy
{inspired by the picture archives on my blog}

always take pictures of baby feet
no explanation why needed

spilled messes on the floor are okay.

 you get to wash your floor afterwards and then check it off your list.

 if your house is like mine you'll always have spills and therefore always have a clean floor
in fact, i love this tip so much that i wrote about it last year
so-thankful-for-those-spills

socks don't need to match

it's much easier to just grab socks and wear them together

however

hanes socks are the best - they color-code their socks

but, hee hee, i don't always make them match

it's okay to cry
not about everything
but my kids have seen me cry
about Samuel and Celiac Disease
or when my grandpa died
cry and tell them it will be okay and that sometimes we need to cry
then give them a hug

always grill in the summer

there's less cleanup

but more propane costs

but again

less clean up

{and if you don't know how to grill -- you simply must learn}

watch them when they don't realize you are

you'll hear them talking to each other about God

or lining up cars

or laughing with each other

and it will do your heart good

save some of their artwork

especially artwork that pictures mom as a mean monster

{which my daughter hannah drew when she was six}

or mom as the princess

{which she drew the next day}
and display their artwork on your fridge

buy costumes on clearance in november
and then you will get pictures like this

teach them about weeds

and share your love of lawns with your kids

but, be prepared for them to point out weedy lawns to you
and gradually they'll learn to love gardening
maybe as much as you do

sing with your kids

we make up our own songs for the kids

and love to spend our time singing and humming and singing
and playing piano
{just look at baby Samuel...sigh}

be prepared for noise

which, one day, you will miss

find an ikea

and invest in their pack of plastic glasses and bowls

and then don't get mad if you find them outside in the sandbox

buy garden tools for the beach

{learned this from my aunt}

your kids will rock the beach when they can dig on with an actual garden digger

versus the shovel

and play in the sand with them - building the coolest sand castle on the beach

 don't sweat potty training
really, trust me, they'll get it
{if you're in the midst you might not believe me}
but every single time my kids eventually caught on
relax
and invest in cheap underwear that you can throw away if needed

be goofy with your kids

run through the sprinkler, play cards

make sure to take time to 

laugh

{remember these pics from my birthday?}

that's what they'll remember

hold them at bedtime
especially when they ask you to stay for just a minute more
because one day they'll be too big
and you'll be so sad
and if you need to remember
read Love you Forever
{by Robert Munsch}

let them cook

and that will probably mean some fails

but tell them that because it didn't work out that next time they know what not to do

and then one day they'll make you yummy food

{like my kids do}

pray with them

always

throughout the day

even if it's just before math

or soccer practice

and always before dinner

they'll remember this even more

teach them animal sounds

and make sure to make the pig sound as a real snorting noise

and add odd sounds

cause then your child sounds like a genius

sit and listen

let them talk to you
stay at the table

don't add your agenda

your schedules

but just listen

listen

listen

listen

and you will be blessed.

how about you?

lessons learned?
favorite lesson of mine?

please do share.

vacation diary

This morning, while writing my miscellany monday, I am sitting on a deck overlooking the ocean. As I sit here and write I thought it only appropriate to share with you just a bit of my tale on how I got here and some little observations that I've made on the way. Until I get home, all the pictures will be glorious straight out of the cell phone pics. :)

1) I got 1.5 hours of sleep on Saturday night/Sunday morning. As the day wore on I found myself getting more and more and more tired. Thankfully, there was coffee and some coca-cola (in a glass bottle...love) that I found along the way.

(taken at 5:35 am)

2) One of my favorite parts of the flight from Minneapolis to Atlanta was the inflight monitor on the seat in front of me. Did I choose a movie? Or a game? Nope. I was one totally content -- and totally happy -- person to watch the map that showed my plane on it's route to the south.

(see those fab monitors?)

3) Atlanta's airport is huge. With really fast underground (and a bit scary) trains to get from concourse to concourse. And has a long long long long wait in line for your plane to actually get to take-off. Oh, the nerves!

(backing up)

4) The descent into Charleston was interesting. I think that the pilot was performing tricks with the plane as he banked and dropped and banked some more. It didn't help that it was a little plane, or that the kids in front of us were gasping and shrieking a bit, or that we had to go through a huge thing of clouds (nothing like no perspective) and that well, I think the pilot might have been having a bit of fun. I wanted to ask him about his flight acrobatics when we left the plane as he stood there thanking everyone and grinning.

5) While we were walking through the Charleston airport this man started walking with us. He started off asking if it was a girls week. We politely told him it was, and then he asked us if we were from the midwest. When we told him yes he told us we looked like we were from there. Okay. Okay. Okay. Do Midwesterners have a "look" and if we do, what in the world is it? :)

6) Carissa, this is for you.

( I am here.)

7) South Carolina has trees with stuff hanging from them. I love them. What are these glorious trees and why can't they grow in Minnesota? Along with the extremely tall trees that I saw along the road during the drive from Charleston to Hilton Head. Beautiful.

8) When we go up to the lake in Minnesota I worried about getting bit by a little Perch or Sunfish in the swimming area. When I swim in the ocean -- which is very warm -- I am told that there are sharks potentially enjoying the water with me. I still swam. And jumped the waves. And laughed like I was eight again.

9) Going back to number five about us midwesterners -- every time I open my mouth to speak I know people look over and me. I would just like to step into that beautiful Southern way of speaking that I hear all around me. Instead I'm hanging on to my ooooo's and probably sounding like I'm from that movie Fargo. Oh well. At least I must look the part.

10) And finally, I've decided that packing my straightener might have been an unnecessary step. It does not seem possible for this girl with curly hair potential to keep my hair straight. So now I have big hair -- that can't decide if it wants to be curly or straight so it must be opting for just frizz. Ha ha ha.

More to come throughout the week. And some reflections as well. It's amazing how sitting at the edge of the ocean can clarify one's thoughts.

Make sure to visit my friend, Carissa's blog. Who, by the way, I'm hoping to visit with this Saturday. :)

walking just a tad slower

I've only a minute as late night games and late night snacks are awaiting. But, in that moment, I've got an observation -- about me -- and about my tendency to move too fast. Missing the moments in between point a and point b.

Example. We rent out several cabins at our resort and numerous times throughout the day we wander back and forth -- bringing food, sunscreen, kids, towels, water, books, bikes and more. Early this morning I took Samuel outside and started the walk down to Grandma and Grandpa's cabin.

I normally walk fast. I want to get there.

Samuel, however, does not walk fast.

In fact, he meandered. Up the hill. And looking at the dirt. Down the road to pick up some rocks. Across to look at the fish house -- not even minding the smell -- and back to the flowers that he just passed.

At first I kept telling him to keep walking -- let's get to Grandmas. Then halfway along {after trying to coax Samuel down the little hill} I realized maybe I should just slow down. And meander the road with Samuel.  So I did. And even though the walk took me more than twice the normal time it has become a walk that I will remember as one where I found joy in watching Samuel explore the world -- the road -- and share that excitement with me.

All because I decided to slow down.

It makes me wonder how many more moments of beauty and exploration that I miss as I'm racing through life.  Vacations are good. They force me to slow down and to see the world through the eyes of my almost two year old. And really -- there is so much to see. So fishing tonight I sat on the boat and stared at the sunset trying to soak in every setting ray.

Off to take the walk to Grandma's cabin now. And I think tonight I'll walk just a tad bit slower.

Here. Finally.

I am at the lake.

And I am finding joy.

when the plans shift

I am not good at readjusting well. I like my routine -- I like my memories. And when things shift it's easy to sit in them and let that dampen the entire day or week.

The Suburban died -- you know, the big truck where almost my entire family fits and where we can cram loads of beach goodies and fishing poles and towels and stuff in it with a canoe slapped on top and a trailer behind.  And we leave in a couple days for vacation.

{last summer}

Initially, I wanted to just get mad and lament and sing the "why me and woe is me" song. And I did. A little bit. Then after I stepped back {and reread my purple petunias post} I was reminded that even with  the dead truck -- although incredibly inconvenient -- we are still going on a vacation. Maybe we're needing to borrow a vehicle -- and yet, that too, is a blessing -- that we have a friend willing to let our family of nine pile in it for a week trek up to the lake.Very brave, I might add.

{mustache man last summer on the boat}

Then this week, Elijah -- mustache man --, has been sick. With really vague symptoms. Sleeping a great deal, fevers, and strange pains. My mothering radar has been on overload for the last six months since Samuel has been diagnosed with Celiac Disease. Todd had to remind me that kids just get sick and most of the time it's just sick. But, as days pass and it's only him under the weather and the vacation departure date creeps closer I feel that nervous anxiety.

Truth? We can still do vacation even if he's under-the-weather. There are doctors up in the beautiful north country of Minnesota. I can still mother and accomplish all I have to do. And all those to-do's -- the packing and laundry and sorting and organizing and cleaning -- are actually blessings. I just need to keep my mind aware of it as I race from thing to thing to thing to thing.

Remember the blessings, Rachel, remember the blessings.

So that leaves me sitting here this morning with a choice. I could easily complain about everything we have not fitting or being frustrated about the truck or worrying about Elijah or I could rejoice in the gifts that abound. In Samuel running around. That we are blessed with a vacation. That I have family -- extended family -- that vacations with us that I love to be around.

Sometimes having the plans shift helps regain gratitude.

And this morning, I am resting in grateful.

{the beautiful Kabekona Bay in Northern Minnesota at sunset}

some miscellany type facts

Yesterday, Hannah and I spent the majority of the day editing, resizing, and burning dvds for the North Ballet Spring Performance. For hours and hours we sat side by side at our kitchen table -- dual laptops -- trying to pass time as the pictures processed. One of the interesting {and unexpected} benefits was spending a bit of time looking at the statistics on blogger.

Here's what I learned.

1} Blogger actually has stats. I had no idea about this until a couple months ago.Don't laugh. I just write. While I'm not a huge stat checker {I mean is it important to look at what browser people use? Chrome or firefox or internet explorer? -- and in case you need to know it was firefox that won} I did enjoy seeing what post received the most pageviews over the last year.

2} The Celiac Disease Journey is by far the most read post {besides the my story page which I never wrote until a couple months ago after more than 800 people tried to read it and all they saw was coming soon. oops.}  I've ever written. And this I love. I receive emails from all over the world {including just recently from Australia} from parents whose children are ill and they don't know what is wrong, from parents whose children have Celiac Disease, and from those with advice and support. Again, to God be the glory. Samuel's story is bringing awareness and while I never what it would be part of my story, I am thankful to be a voice for Celiac Disease. It's too important. And it's always on my heart.

{sweet samuel}

3} Does Syrup Have Sugar in It?? is my sixth highest read post. Apparently there are a great deal of google searches looking for images and quotes from the movie Elf. And all that searching has led people here. And now, probably because I wrote that quote and mentioned Elf this post will start to receive a high number of google search hits as well.  Hee hee hee -- the magic of Elf.

4} The number two post? The Very Beautiful Legacy Giveaway. That closed. Back in April. I love that it still gets hits as Amy, one of the founders, is a dear friend of mine. Maybe I should host another giveaway. It appears quite popular. And, let me tell you, the bracelets are exquisite. Love legacy.

{there's that bracelet again and at this point there is NOT a give away}

5} My own daughter, Hannah, sends the most traffic. Then Networked Blogs. And followed by my sweet blogging friend, Carissa {who hosts this meme} at number three.  Thanks, sweet friend, for making my random thoughts have a purpose on Mondays.

6} Not directly related to google stats, but similar -- I don't know if you noticed if I finally {and I mean finally} decided to create a facebook page for finding joy. It took me so so so so so long. It's been a blessing and it's fun and easy for me to interact with you all.  So, that being said there's my new link. I'm feel so technologically savvy right now. Not. It takes me way too long to figure most of those facebook apps out. So for now, enjoy the box. And click like.


7} 360. That's how many posts I've written since last March when I finally returned to blogging. Some serious, some silly {remember the one that I posted with my hair straight up on the boat at the lake?}, some prayer requests, and some just about life. I love blogging. I love the community. And I love that it helps me think straighter.

{one of the early headers}

8} Caringbridge. That's how the whole blogging adventure began....over five years ago...from a little journal I kept to keep friends and family up-to-date on my husband's cancer treatments. Who would have known how it's become part of my daily life? How about you? Why and when did you start blogging?

9} I have NOT seen my ad. {I know totally unrelated to the "stat" theme} This is the last week of my Gatorade $100 giftcard giveaway and I have NOT seen my ad on a blogher sidebar. I tried to figure out the statistics of me actually seeing that Gatorade and Finding Joy promo and it's almost impossible.  So....enter now....because I want one you to win...and if you happen to see my face somewhere out there in blog land screen cap it and send it my way.  I can guarantee it will make my {friday} favorites. :)

{and totally random, but needed to be posted as next Sunday I will be there. Vacation. It's coming.}

Couldn't make it to ten miscellany facts. Oh well. My brain is tired from all the photography wrap-up. Thanks for laughing along with my silly stats. Now, pop on over to my dear friend, Carissa's blog and examine the beautiful new header that my Hannah girl designed {her site hannahnicoledesigns}.  Love her work. Thanks again for the sweet comments and prayers and friendship. Have a great and blessed and wonderful Monday. ~Rachel

stillness

There are days where I lose stillness.

More than quiet. More than neatness. More than being alone.

It's stillness of mind.


Most days my mind works on hyper-drive -- racing from thought to thought to thought to thought. And as it races I begin to race from thing to thing to thing to thing. And then as I'm racing around I begin to think that I'm late or behind or I need to do this or I must do this or is the laundry is done or the bills need to be paid or I need to start dinner or the kids need new shoes or the lawn is scraggly or I haven't done my quiet time yet or there are crumbs on the floor or the kids are yelling outside or I need to have a garage sale or I'll never catch up or Celiac Disease overwhelms me at times or I need to exercise and or and or and or and or.

Exhausted.

All day.

It's easy to do. I've got a plate {or plates} loaded with responsibilities and issues to take care of and things where I just have to wait {which is hard} and just daily life to do. I see catalogs and tv shows and blogs and others and think that I need to do all that stuff or have this or the kids need do that to be successful. I let myself compare and find myself discontent. I make myself keep busy. Moving. Trying to make up for my own insecurities.

There is no stillness in that. Only chaos.

I have to choose.

To live intentional.

Being still.

So I stop. I grab my luke-warm decaf coffee in the yellow Duluth mug and slip out to the deck. I sit down on the worn top step -- a step in need of staining -- and stare at the garden in front of me watching as the summer breeze rocks the pea blossoms back and forth. The setting sun dips into the horizon, and as it does the world is illuminated in it's late light splendor. The kids are laughing in the background as they kick the half-inflated blue and white soccer ball around the yard. I choose to sit. And close my weary eyes.

Lord, let me place these anxieties, these worries, these comparisons at your feet. You know my needs, you know my heart. Fill me with the peace that only you can give. Let me be still.

The list of things to do slows down. Becomes blessings.

This world and all it's urgent agendas begins to fade with the setting sun.

Now, at this moment there is stillness.

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. {Romans 12:2}

lessons from starstuck

On Friday, June 24th, it will be a year since Samuel {yes, Samuel} was admitted to Children's Hospital to have an emergency endoscopy to have a sequin star removed. It seems so long ago -- so long -- especially with all the health crises that developed following that June.

I went back and read my post StarStuck and was brought to my knees. I forgot how close everything was for little Samuel way back then. And I saw and was reminded at just how strong Samuel already was -- almost as if he knew back then that he would need to be tough for the year to come.

{little Samuel last June}

And, I saw how we was already displaying symptoms of Celiac Disease last June. To think that it took until January for him to get diagnosed. So long. So so so long. I wish he didn't have to deal with it that long. That part hurts my momma's heart.

I remember walking into the local hospital {before we were transferred to Childrens} and telling the nurse that either Samuel swallowed something or he has something seriously wrong with his bowels.  That would have been the undiagnosed Celiac Disease.  That night, he had swallowed something. And that night, he also had Celiac Disease. But, I didn't know.

{Samuel in January}

What I do know? That the day of June 24, 2010 taught me and prepared me for January 17, 2011 when I walked back into the same Children's Hospital Emergency Room and into the EXACT room where I sat months prior. It prepped me. I knew what to expect, where to go, to advocate for Samuel, what to expect from an endoscopy and not to take life for granted.

These are some of my words from back then -- about a mother's intuition and trusting one self. I was getting prepared and stronger without even knowing why. I wrote:

The doctors and nurses were amazed that I  knew to bring him in.  They kept talking about mother's intuition and how they take it seriously when a parent come in as insistent as I did.  They told me that he really didn't have time to wait for me to just watch.  He was in right when he needed to be.

{Samuel this summer}

Samuel has been gifted with life so many times.

I am so grateful for that little man of mine. So grateful.

And I'm grateful that the Lord gave us mother's intuition and a fighting spirit.

So on this day, almost one year after, I give glory and thanks to the Lord. Once again, I will sing

Thank you for Samuel. Thank you.

To read Samuel's StarStuck story please click here.
To read about our journey with Celiac Disease please click here.

seeing the purple petunias

Elijah and I sat on the front porch. The weather was cooler than a typical June day, and yet despite the heavy clouds and bursts of wind we were comfortable. He rested on my lap, his soon to be four year old head nestled into my shoulder.

We just sat.

I asked him what he was thinking about and after glancing around the porch he quickly replied  -- about purple flowers, momma. There was a huge pot of deep purple petunias sitting by the entry.  Anything else, Elijah? I asked. He  sighed, and looked around again and simply said -- oh, and about God, momma.

I told him thinking about God was a really good thing and he quickly told me he knew that.

We sat there -- him thinking about purple flowers and God -- and me wondering about life and summer and words. I was mulling over how we define stresses -- I hear it so much -- I'm stressed about this or stressed about that -- and yet, for myself, I wonder if what I'm calling stress should really be called stress.

You know, like getting stressed because I have to do the dishes. Or clean. Or run the kids to ballet. Or mow the lawn. Or plan homeschool curriculum. Or write a post by a deadline. Or get the car washed. Or take those pictures. Or fold the laundry I'm behind on.

I think I might have been calling blessings stresses. And not seeing the beauty of the purple petunias right in front of my face.  If I had been Elijah I probably would have said -- I see weeds in the flower garden -- completely missing the beauty of the petunias right in front of me.  Sigh.

I'm convicted to think before I refer to items as stress. I remember years ago, when we lived in San Diego {and yes, we moved back to the snowy land of Minnesota} being in a Bible Study with some lovely and wonderful ladies. I was this young mother, and we were going through financial stress -- real hardship -- and we were 2000+ miles from friends and family. After I poured my heart out in a prayer request the next lady was up to share. I can still remember sitting there, with my tear-stained face, as she proceeded to lament about how stressed she was in prepping for her trip to Paris in two weeks, and how she needed so much prayer.

Only seeing the weeds.

It stuck with me. That realization of keeping one's eyes open and not allowing the blessings in life to become the stresses in life. And to be really really careful about what I ask for in a time of prayer requests.

Oh, to be like Elijah. To see the world for all it's beauty. To be content to rest on a patio chair on a June afternoon and think about purple flowers and God.

Let me learn from him.

And see the purple petunias first.

{I've linked with what is on your heart.}

what i never thought i'd learn to love

 {my parents back yard and garden to the side}

I can still hear it. My dad calling from the top of the stairs, leaning over the metal railing, asking me to go down to the garden and pick beans. I'd inwardly groan, and do that eleven year old super-clever trick of hard of hearing, and go back to my book.

I knew it was temporary.

Within minutes I'd hear him ask again, and yet this time, there was more force. I knew I was busted. I'd throw my book to the side, dog-earring the page, and would look for my old garden flip flops. Those beat up, pink and yellow sandals, with the strap that seemed to consistently fall off.

{i still love these stairs}

I'd grab the paper sack that my dad left by the door, throw my hair in a sloppy eleven year old best you can do pony-tail, lope down the faded blue-stained deck stairs and wander down the hill to the garden. Where my dad was waiting. We'd nod and smile and I'd set to work for the next hour plucking long green tendrils into my bag.

By the end of the day I was happy. Happy to have worked side by side with my dad -- even though, back then, I would never have admitted it.

********** 

{my little garden area}

I can hear it. The kids are calling for me, leaning over the dark mocha stained deck rail, asking when the beans would be ready. I look around at the tomatoes I just planted -- looking at the rows of beans just plunked into the earthy soil -- and knew that within weeks we'd be harvesting our first bags of beans.

The silence was temporary.

Within minutes several eager little faces wandered down the deck stairs, across the sidewalk, and began to lean by the garden watching me work. "Mom?" Elijah would ask, "Mom, when are those seeds goina be beans?" I look up, brushing my face with my muddied hands, and tell him that it would be soon. We just need water and sun.

He looks around and next thing I know I see him trying to drag our no-kink hose down to my gardening square. "For the beans, momma," he tells me. I look at his sweet face and nod and smile. I set back to work planting herbs, and celery, and tomatoes. All grown by my dad. Waiting for me. For my garden.

{a tomato, started by my dad in late February, for me}

I am so grateful for my dad needing me -- wanting me -- to help him in the garden when I was young. His love for gardening his passed down to me which I hope passes down to my kids. There is solitude and peace that can be found in working the soil. In the shovels of dirt, the weeds pulled, and the excitement as new green shoots push upward. It's a haven from the rush and crazy schedule and technology driven world.

{some of my herbs -- labels handwritten by my dad}

Peaceful. And, I'll admit it, I love it.

(my friend Amy, at Raising Arrow's, wrote a wonderful post about herb gardening. Make sure to hop by and read it as well)

Do you garden? What's your favorite thing to grow?

And, by the way, I still don't have the biopsy results for Samuel. As soon as I get them I'll update. Thank you for continuing to pray.

~rachel

mud can be beautiful

Spring has come.

Along with that comes buds popping, birds returning, grass growing, and mud.

Everywhere.

Kay, at Heart and Soul Pursuits, started a new project called Inspire Me. A couple weeks ago she contacted me asking if I could write about specific ways in which I live -- destined, devoted or daring -- and how. Honestly, I really believe that life is a collection of all three each ebbing and flowing creating each day. That being said, right now, in my journey, I've been focused on the idea of devoted.

Devoted to finding joy.
Devoted to my family.
and
Devoted to embracing who God made me to be.

You see, I struggle with thinking that I'd be better if -- if I was better scheduled, or more structured, or I finish an entire curriculum, or my house was like this, or I look like this, or so on. As I gradually begin to listen to these ifs regarding myself I begin to focus on just the mud.

At least it seems like mud to me.

So I've been praying. And thinking. And pondering. And starting to recognize that maybe, just maybe, I need to start resting in some of the character traits that I've been fighting. These traits are who the Lord designed me as -- and that instead of running from what I think is muddy I just need to sit in and embrace it.

Here's an example:  I've looked at how I homeschool -- without the rigorous box checking and tight daily schedule -- and have realized how I've fought that part of me for years.  I so wanted to fit this mold of what I thought was ideal homeschooling -- so sure that that way was the right way and certainly convinced that my way didn't measure up.

Ever since Samuel got sick with Celiac Disease this winter, God has used that challenging situation to challenge me. I've begun to look at myself and our homeschooling philosophy as no longer muddy, but unique, designed for our family and for our lives. We find joy and beauty and life in it -- from choosing to utilize a sunny day and work in the garden and save math for the days of rain or snow or in making lunch together at 1:30 pm instead of 12 noon sharp or in letting my kids read and read and read and read and forgetting the schedule for the morning.

Or letting them play in the mud. Being creative. Kids.

God designed me. I've become determined to embrace and devote myself to becoming who HE wants me to be -- not who I think I should be or who I think others think I should be or who the world says I should be -- but the wife, mother, daughter, friend that is what Christ wants.

And sometimes, just sometimes, that discovery means being okay in the mud.

Because even mud is beautiful.

My challenge to you? Start looking and praying about the muddy places. Maybe, just maybe, those things that we don't like are exactly how we're meant to be.