What a start to the school year! It is a pleasure to share that Abby is having an AMAZING 5th grade year so far. She was quite anxious before it started (after a big move) but I cannot imagine it having begun better than it has. She was chosen out of all 5th grade classes (eighty one kids) to read a poem on 9/11, she has brought home projects with accolades from her teachers (including one that read "Best in 5th grade!"), has run for and been elected to student council, landed a solo for the musical, and just yesterday brought home a ribbon and letter announcing that she was named her class' PAL student: Principal's Award for Leadership. She was singled out for her kindness and excellent citizenship in class.
Seriously, what a shower of praise and blessings on this girl, who really needed it this year. School has not been easy for Abby, emotionally. Grades have never been a problem, so often she flies under the radar for most teachers even if she is having a rough time emotionally; but she is maturing into a bright and sensitive, but able to cope, little woman! This morning Matthew and I had our parent teacher conference with Abby's teachers and they were beaming about her performance, her creativity, her love for her family evidenced in comments in class, her consideration of others, and the way she exemplifies kindness and self control in the classroom. Matthew and I are SO PROUD of her. SO thankful to God for these encouragements and praises for Abby's efforts. We long for her to know how loved and how capable she is, and this year she is blossoming in her environment. There will be challenges and struggles for sure, but when the sun shines I hope we can all bask in it with gratitude, for it is GOOD to give thanks for these gifts! And I hope that Abby will be able to draw on these experiences the next time she faces adversity and anxiety that feels so burdensome. Way to go Abbs! What a great start to the year, sweet girl!!!!
October 2, 2012
September 25, 2012
5th grade and Kindergarten
We're almost to October, and I am grateful for the hope of cooler days, for vacation days. I think the kids are better acclimated to Texas than I am. I still feel very lost, very out of place and longing for home to feel like home but it doesn't. Good things: Matthew loves his work. He is learning, using his gifts, finding himself. Abby has a new bike that fits her, she made student council and is excited about that. She likes school more this year than last year. Noah has a lego Yoda; he thinks this is wonderful. I don't know exactly why, but I am so glad that he likes his tiny lego guy. Still not sure how to read Noah's take on Kindergarten. Mornings he is not happy to go to school. Half way there, some days he is riding his scooter as fast as he can, and by the end of the day most days he says school was great. But it is hard to know what all goes into that, and I have no idea really if it is great or not. Lots of conflicted feelings about this, but the Lord knows Noah and sees him all through the day and loves him more than I am able.
I am ready to have life breathed into me again. I am waiting and hoping and longing for it. Miss my sister and wish she were well and healed.
I am ready to have life breathed into me again. I am waiting and hoping and longing for it. Miss my sister and wish she were well and healed.
September 8, 2012
Noah quotes of late
G: Noah, do you think you would like to learn how to play the flute? Because I could teach you!
N: No, because I would like a lego batman.
Still the king of non sequitur.
After a week of kindergarten:
"Momma, the kids in my class haven't learned how to be quiet yet."
Days after Matthew left for Africa:
G: Noah, you seem sad; what's the matter?
N: I feel sad because I don't understand why daddy didn't take me with him.
Oh yeah, and the other night he had an imaginary church service going, during which he made up worship songs, distributed to Abby, Matthew, and me pretend communion (using chocolate squares), and then walked around squirting lotion in our hands while saying "peace of Christ" (or did he mean piece of Christ? I don't know. But we were laughing).
N: No, because I would like a lego batman.
Still the king of non sequitur.
After a week of kindergarten:
"Momma, the kids in my class haven't learned how to be quiet yet."
Days after Matthew left for Africa:
G: Noah, you seem sad; what's the matter?
N: I feel sad because I don't understand why daddy didn't take me with him.
Oh yeah, and the other night he had an imaginary church service going, during which he made up worship songs, distributed to Abby, Matthew, and me pretend communion (using chocolate squares), and then walked around squirting lotion in our hands while saying "peace of Christ" (or did he mean piece of Christ? I don't know. But we were laughing).
June 28, 2012
Landing
Where to start? I guess, greetings from Texas is a good place to begin. The Pearsons Four (plus Ellie, the kitten) have landed in Houston, Texas. Matthew took a wonderful job as research and evaluation specialist for Living Water International (water.cc) and is busy applying his economic skills to help solve the water crisis in the developing world. I know. It's a huge job that Matthew is honored to be a part of, and he joins a large and marvelous team of people at LWI (among other water NGOs) doing great work. I hardly know how to recount what has happened in the months that have passed since last I wrote: Matthew transitioned into the new job, went to Uganda and Kenya for work, we sold our home in Princeton, bought a home in Houston, said many painful goodbyes to dear friends and our beloved Westerly Road Church in Princeton. We packed up our life and made the big move, and now, not quite one week after closing on our Houston home, I'm sitting in my couch-less living room trying to provide some context for how I've come to be here and how greatly our family's life has been shaken up and re-established very recently.
This new work is not a random choice; Matthew has known for quite a while that he wanted to find work that would use his background in economics and also his passion for serving God and loving his neighbor. We are grateful and simply stunned when we think about the fact that his work includes exciting travel and life-saving efforts on behalf of those who are the poorest of our neighbors in the world, even as it uses his ability to run regressions and apply statistical models to data for the good of others. I know it sounds so idealistic to put it that way, but it's the truth, and God has designed and prepared Matthew for this work at this time. I am more excited than I can possibly communicate to get to watch Matthew find himself and learn to lean on Christ as he discovers his inadequacies in the face of seemingly insurmountable challenges.
The rest of us are learning and growing too! Abby finished 4th grade in Princeton and continues to make strides with her artwork and fashion design interests. She is volunteering this summer at LWI, helping with a program designed for children called "The Story of the Thirsty." Groups of kids come on tours at LWI and learn about the water crisis, the health and education ramifications of not having clean water, the efforts of water NGOs to help remedy the problem, and the ways even little kids can help! All of this is shared with a clear presentation of Living Water's belief in Christ as our source of life, salvation, and hope, and the belief that access to clean water is something all people should have!
Noah is taking it all in and is keeping us laughing with his sense of humor. He's such a funny mix of introverted and zany. Noah will start preschool in September, but in the meantime he is busy flying his Captain America around the livingroom, vrooming Lightning McQueen, snuggling mommy, shadowing Abby, clobbering daddy, and playing with Ellie the cat.
And me. Well, I am keeping very busy with figuring out life in a new place and with a new rhythm. I don't know yet just what my work will be in addition to keeping things going at home, but we're discovering a lot about who we are as a family and how we might be stretched. I'm sure I'll have more to share as time goes by.
Anyway, that's enough for now! I'm tired just typing all of that, let alone living it.
Yours in the Adventure,
G
This new work is not a random choice; Matthew has known for quite a while that he wanted to find work that would use his background in economics and also his passion for serving God and loving his neighbor. We are grateful and simply stunned when we think about the fact that his work includes exciting travel and life-saving efforts on behalf of those who are the poorest of our neighbors in the world, even as it uses his ability to run regressions and apply statistical models to data for the good of others. I know it sounds so idealistic to put it that way, but it's the truth, and God has designed and prepared Matthew for this work at this time. I am more excited than I can possibly communicate to get to watch Matthew find himself and learn to lean on Christ as he discovers his inadequacies in the face of seemingly insurmountable challenges.
The rest of us are learning and growing too! Abby finished 4th grade in Princeton and continues to make strides with her artwork and fashion design interests. She is volunteering this summer at LWI, helping with a program designed for children called "The Story of the Thirsty." Groups of kids come on tours at LWI and learn about the water crisis, the health and education ramifications of not having clean water, the efforts of water NGOs to help remedy the problem, and the ways even little kids can help! All of this is shared with a clear presentation of Living Water's belief in Christ as our source of life, salvation, and hope, and the belief that access to clean water is something all people should have!
Noah is taking it all in and is keeping us laughing with his sense of humor. He's such a funny mix of introverted and zany. Noah will start preschool in September, but in the meantime he is busy flying his Captain America around the livingroom, vrooming Lightning McQueen, snuggling mommy, shadowing Abby, clobbering daddy, and playing with Ellie the cat.
And me. Well, I am keeping very busy with figuring out life in a new place and with a new rhythm. I don't know yet just what my work will be in addition to keeping things going at home, but we're discovering a lot about who we are as a family and how we might be stretched. I'm sure I'll have more to share as time goes by.
Anyway, that's enough for now! I'm tired just typing all of that, let alone living it.
Yours in the Adventure,
G
April 22, 2012
Why my people make me laugh
Matty to our grey cat: "You are an orange cat on a black and white TV"
Noah to Mommy after climbing off of the sideboard/buffet: "See, I didn't break any bones!" (I told him he could climb up there as long as he didn't break his leg falling off).
While reading Noah a story about Joseph (son of Israel and the boy whose brothers throw him into a pit and sell him as a slave), I'm interrupted by Noah: "Mommy, they are mean! They are (long pause) they are SINNING!" He says, triumphant and giddy at recalling the word. Me: "Yes! Yes they are!" Noah: "Yeah. Sinning. That's the spanish word for disobeying."
Talking to himself in the bathroom, apparently impressed: "It's a whole family of poops!"
Matty to Abby after looking over a graded book report that received 100% M: Abby, I noticed you did a horrible job on your book report. A: I know, I'm so ashamed of myself.
Noah to Mommy after climbing off of the sideboard/buffet: "See, I didn't break any bones!" (I told him he could climb up there as long as he didn't break his leg falling off).
While reading Noah a story about Joseph (son of Israel and the boy whose brothers throw him into a pit and sell him as a slave), I'm interrupted by Noah: "Mommy, they are mean! They are (long pause) they are SINNING!" He says, triumphant and giddy at recalling the word. Me: "Yes! Yes they are!" Noah: "Yeah. Sinning. That's the spanish word for disobeying."
Talking to himself in the bathroom, apparently impressed: "It's a whole family of poops!"
Matty to Abby after looking over a graded book report that received 100% M: Abby, I noticed you did a horrible job on your book report. A: I know, I'm so ashamed of myself.
March 29, 2012
Haiti
It will take me some time to process the past week and all that happened in Haiti. I will blog about it bit by bit, but I'd like to share the following story, which I will get to share at church during the worship service this Sunday. To each one of you who has prayed for me, supported me financially for this trip, and encouraged me to go, thank you. Thank God for you.
It is an honor to bear witness to the Mighty One who is at work redeeming and shepherding His creation. I'd like to share with you just one story of many that the Westerly Haiti Team could tell about this most recent trip.
After seeing the Haiti trip mentioned in the bulletin, I penciled in my initials and a question mark, showing it to my husband Matthew. My excitement swelled for about ten minutes and then was quickly overtaken by the fears and anxieties that crowd out anything requiring of me risk and sacrifice. I wrestled with the discomfort of knowing I'd ask others to sacrifice on my behalf to send me, wondering if the financial gifts and prayer might be better used if sent directly to Haiti without the expense of my going. The following month was filled with prayer requests of my small group, family, and friends asking for wisdom: should I go? While praying with my sweet friend and neighbor, Donna Nitchun (who knows the lengths to which I'll go to maintain a quiet, peaceful, small, domestic life), she said that the Lord put on her heart a verse for me:
Isaiah 54:2 "Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; lengthen your cords, strengthen your stakes." I prayed through this verse, finding in it the injunction to go and to see how my fears and doubts might be met with grace.
On our first full day in Haiti we visited a village called Kwa Kok, where we met a woman named Ti Fiyel. She was living with several of her children and her four grandchildren in a deplorable sheet dwelling filled with mildew and ants. Her three month old granddaughter was born in this dark place that had no ventilation and that leaked terribly every time it rained. Our team set to work pouring a foundation for a new home for Ti Fiyel. We knew it would be months--a long rainy season--before her home would be ready. That night as the team discussed the day and prayed for Ti Fiyel, I turned to Chris, an American intern working in Haiti and asked: "When we go back, can't we just bring Ti Fiyel a tent to use until her house is built?" With irony and lovingly exposing my naievite, she said: "Do you have a tent?" In a country with such systemic poverty, one can't just go buy a tent in town. It doesn't work that way. While we prayed her question rang in my head over and over--and the voice asking it wasn't Chris' voice anymore, it was the Holy Spirit's voice: Do you have a tent? Yes, Lord, I have a tent. A nine person tent. It's in my basement in Princeton, and I have a husband who can drive it to my Pastor who is flying to Haiti in a day and a half!
A flurry of international texts and less than 48 hours later, Pastor Matt arrived with a tent, a tarp, stakes and cord to erect for Ti Fiyel and her family a dry place to live through the months of rain. Our team hardly had to lift a finger to pull down the old tent, to make the ground level, and to put up the new tent: the village came together to do that for Ti Fiyel with great joy--one woman cried out in Creole "Halleluia! Halleluia! I know God is real! I know He is here! I have prayed for Him to help Ti Fiyel and her children for so long! Halleluia!" What mercy God displayed to our team and to the community in Kwa Kok that day! But there is more to the story--something private, and something I will treasure in my heart until I see the Lord face to face:
Before we returned to the village to put up this tent, I prayed privately that God would keep me humble, that He would receive all the glory for this amazing provision. I felt so conspicuous when the team learned that our family donated a tent, so uncomfortable with the idea that this act would get me credit for generosity and ingenuity, when all along this amazing trip so far I was being convicted of how deeply I held onto the things of this world, hoarding and idolizing material things, health, and God's good gifts. Here is how God answered that prayer:
* I was not there to see Ti Fiyel's tent put up; I was handing out hygiene kits with others on the team.
* I was not there when the village lifted their voices and arms in praise to God, so no one could point to me and say, "she's the one who brought the tent."
As storm clouds rolled in quickly, requiring our team to race against the rain back to paved roads lest our bus get stuck in the mud, I ran to catch a glimpse of the tent set up. Carine yelled, "get in the tent, Genna!" I stepped inside where it was clean, dark, and dry despite the rain, and saw only Ti Fiyel's silhouette. Carine said to her, "She brought this tent for your family." Ti Fiyel wrapped her arms around me and kissed my face. I wept as she blessed and thanked me, and I blessed her with the few words I could say in her language. Carine tried to capture the moment with two different cameras--both of which worked before and after but simply would not work just then. When she said "Oh, this was supposed to be your moment!" I said with full confidence, "No, this is not my moment. It is hers, and it is the Lord's." You see, Ti Fiyel didn't need to see my face, to know what I look like. I did not need a snapshot of hugs and tears, or of my smiling face in front of a tent to send to my donors. This embrace, this moment was the Lord's and it was holy. His Spirit was healing me, blessing us, answering prayer, protecting the honor and glory that is all His.
We ran through the rain to the bus and our whole team erupted in a hymn of praise in Creole: "Merci, Senior! Merci Senior!" Carine held my hand as I wept and grinned and recalled that verse Donna had given to me many weeks before: "Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; lengthen your cords, strengthen your stakes." Our sweet Lord gave me a picture of a tent being erected. He knew the plans He had for me, for our team, for Ti Fiyel, for the people of Kwa Kok. And He accomplished them bringing glory to His name. Alleluia.
It is an honor to bear witness to the Mighty One who is at work redeeming and shepherding His creation. I'd like to share with you just one story of many that the Westerly Haiti Team could tell about this most recent trip.
After seeing the Haiti trip mentioned in the bulletin, I penciled in my initials and a question mark, showing it to my husband Matthew. My excitement swelled for about ten minutes and then was quickly overtaken by the fears and anxieties that crowd out anything requiring of me risk and sacrifice. I wrestled with the discomfort of knowing I'd ask others to sacrifice on my behalf to send me, wondering if the financial gifts and prayer might be better used if sent directly to Haiti without the expense of my going. The following month was filled with prayer requests of my small group, family, and friends asking for wisdom: should I go? While praying with my sweet friend and neighbor, Donna Nitchun (who knows the lengths to which I'll go to maintain a quiet, peaceful, small, domestic life), she said that the Lord put on her heart a verse for me:
Isaiah 54:2 "Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; lengthen your cords, strengthen your stakes." I prayed through this verse, finding in it the injunction to go and to see how my fears and doubts might be met with grace.
On our first full day in Haiti we visited a village called Kwa Kok, where we met a woman named Ti Fiyel. She was living with several of her children and her four grandchildren in a deplorable sheet dwelling filled with mildew and ants. Her three month old granddaughter was born in this dark place that had no ventilation and that leaked terribly every time it rained. Our team set to work pouring a foundation for a new home for Ti Fiyel. We knew it would be months--a long rainy season--before her home would be ready. That night as the team discussed the day and prayed for Ti Fiyel, I turned to Chris, an American intern working in Haiti and asked: "When we go back, can't we just bring Ti Fiyel a tent to use until her house is built?" With irony and lovingly exposing my naievite, she said: "Do you have a tent?" In a country with such systemic poverty, one can't just go buy a tent in town. It doesn't work that way. While we prayed her question rang in my head over and over--and the voice asking it wasn't Chris' voice anymore, it was the Holy Spirit's voice: Do you have a tent? Yes, Lord, I have a tent. A nine person tent. It's in my basement in Princeton, and I have a husband who can drive it to my Pastor who is flying to Haiti in a day and a half!
A flurry of international texts and less than 48 hours later, Pastor Matt arrived with a tent, a tarp, stakes and cord to erect for Ti Fiyel and her family a dry place to live through the months of rain. Our team hardly had to lift a finger to pull down the old tent, to make the ground level, and to put up the new tent: the village came together to do that for Ti Fiyel with great joy--one woman cried out in Creole "Halleluia! Halleluia! I know God is real! I know He is here! I have prayed for Him to help Ti Fiyel and her children for so long! Halleluia!" What mercy God displayed to our team and to the community in Kwa Kok that day! But there is more to the story--something private, and something I will treasure in my heart until I see the Lord face to face:
Before we returned to the village to put up this tent, I prayed privately that God would keep me humble, that He would receive all the glory for this amazing provision. I felt so conspicuous when the team learned that our family donated a tent, so uncomfortable with the idea that this act would get me credit for generosity and ingenuity, when all along this amazing trip so far I was being convicted of how deeply I held onto the things of this world, hoarding and idolizing material things, health, and God's good gifts. Here is how God answered that prayer:
* I was not there to see Ti Fiyel's tent put up; I was handing out hygiene kits with others on the team.
* I was not there when the village lifted their voices and arms in praise to God, so no one could point to me and say, "she's the one who brought the tent."
As storm clouds rolled in quickly, requiring our team to race against the rain back to paved roads lest our bus get stuck in the mud, I ran to catch a glimpse of the tent set up. Carine yelled, "get in the tent, Genna!" I stepped inside where it was clean, dark, and dry despite the rain, and saw only Ti Fiyel's silhouette. Carine said to her, "She brought this tent for your family." Ti Fiyel wrapped her arms around me and kissed my face. I wept as she blessed and thanked me, and I blessed her with the few words I could say in her language. Carine tried to capture the moment with two different cameras--both of which worked before and after but simply would not work just then. When she said "Oh, this was supposed to be your moment!" I said with full confidence, "No, this is not my moment. It is hers, and it is the Lord's." You see, Ti Fiyel didn't need to see my face, to know what I look like. I did not need a snapshot of hugs and tears, or of my smiling face in front of a tent to send to my donors. This embrace, this moment was the Lord's and it was holy. His Spirit was healing me, blessing us, answering prayer, protecting the honor and glory that is all His.
We ran through the rain to the bus and our whole team erupted in a hymn of praise in Creole: "Merci, Senior! Merci Senior!" Carine held my hand as I wept and grinned and recalled that verse Donna had given to me many weeks before: "Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; lengthen your cords, strengthen your stakes." Our sweet Lord gave me a picture of a tent being erected. He knew the plans He had for me, for our team, for Ti Fiyel, for the people of Kwa Kok. And He accomplished them bringing glory to His name. Alleluia.
March 7, 2012
Life as I knew it
I miss her terribly, and have missed her since living so far away for so many years. Only now I can't press the speed dial button and talk to her till she tells me she's running up my phone bill, and I insist I have unlimited minutes. But they were limited after all, weren't they? You were right, Nonee.
I can't possibly write a post that describes her well. "How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?" comes to mind. I can say that she loved fiercely, with loyalty and generosity. She was too apologetic and thought people really ought to be able to read her mind. She wasn't afraid to cruise around the world, but say you saw a lizard near her front door and she'd have palpitations. Nonee hated to be called "She" by the way--"She who?" she'd say. No pronouns for Nonee in her presence.
Nonee liked things just so: her bed to be made (with lots of pillows), her hair to be set, her family to be near, her wine to be chilled, her dinner to be the same as ever (weight watchers, lean cuisine, even though she was tiny as a minute), her Christmas cards sent on time or not at all, her coffee weak and black. And there was no convincing her to give up her independence; that would have to be taken from her and she could put up a (polite, firm, and winning) fight. Apparently only God was going to win this one. Stubborn one, this gal.
But besides all that independence was her sparkle. Nonee was a performer--I mean the real deal, with facial expressions (her dreamy silver screen look, the graceful mannerisms, and all) and with a way of dancing her way around a room. Until her body was too owie to dance, of course. But I remember so many times despite her swollen knee, I'd catch her doing little tap routines in the kitchen. She'd sing, raise her eyebrows, and--eyes twinkling--bite her bottom lip as she headed into the break and her dance solo, more compact and quiet in her slippers than it once was when she was a girl. But it was unmistakably Nonee.
Her prayers were sincere and her devotion to the Lord expressed on her knees. In one of the last clear moments of her life she lamented about not being able to get on her knees to pray (obviously not with her hip, leg and wrist broken and barely enough energy to keep her eyes open after that fall). I told her I would do that for her, but she didn't need me to. It's not her body but her spirit that was bowed before God and that's more important anyway. Mary, the mother of Christ was important to Nonee, being a tender and welcoming and safe conduit for her devotions. I wonder what it's like right now for Nonee--seeing Mary, Christ, her sisters, face to face, and whole again. No tears of sorrow or pain. I am so glad her struggle is over. And selfishly I am sad for my loss.
My family will gather to say "goodbye" together in a memorial service on St. Patrick's day. I don't think there is any mistake in the fact that I have a plane ticket for that date--but the destination is Haiti, not California. Lord, why??? Why this timing? Why when we were going to get to see Nonee in just a couple of months before moving to Houston is she gone from us? And why call me to go to Haiti to serve you in a hurting place, instead of to the place where I am hurting? Nonee was excited for me to go--we talked about it last week. And now it will cost me the experience of the last family gathering with Nonee at its center. This hurts and I hope I get some glimpse as to what your purposes are in it.
My Nonee was beautiful and funny and she taught me to love God and the church and my family. I'm fearful like she was, prone to stubbornness, and oversensitivity. Is hypochondria and anxiety genetic? I think I get it from her if it is. But oh, if there is any of her gentle spirit, her grace and her sparkle in me, I can only thank God for every last drop of it.
Nonee, I love you. The world is smaller without you in it and my heart carries more ache, but I would not give any of that up for one fewer day with you. Thank you, Lord, for my Nonee, for every day of her life that you ordained and blessed us with. Your mercies are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
February 15, 2012
Love Day
Sweet Noah called me out to the front yard the other day to show me something. He said, "Happy Valentimes Day!" Look at the footprints in the snow...see it? My little guy made a valentine for me all by himself--no direction, no crafty supplies, just the sweetest heart and some careful steps in a shape that spoke volumes to his mommy. I think this was the most precious valentine I've ever received.
January 17, 2012
Double Digits
Sweet Abby turned 10 years old yesterday! We were all glad that she had the day off from school to hang out. Reflecting on this tenth year, Abby said that one of the biggest highlights of the year was getting her kitten, Ellie. They are fast friends, and Ellie can often be found snoozing at Abby's feet, or waiting in the window for her to come home from school.
Abby's experience of life has been different from a lot of her friends around here. Matthew and I married young and had Abby when we were 24 and 25. We had just started grad school and the long road to figuring out what kind of work we would do (we're still on that long road eleven years later...). So our lives have held uncertainty and cross-country moves, long seasons of job searches and impending change, living far from family, and always budget constrained. Matthew and I are both good at some things and lousy at others, and in the places where our "lousy" overlaps, there are these gaps that make life more challenging. We're not great at being consistent and intentional about traditions. Not great planners. So much of life feels ad hoc, a little last minute, a little chaotic. Matthew is in his head a lot and I am "available" to the kids but feel stunned and dazed by the pace of life and of the kids' questions. I rarely have an immediate answer to any question--needing to say the words back to myself at least once before answering (can. Noah. get. chocolate. milk. UH, yes, I think so. Can he? Wait, no. We never have chocolate milk. Is there chocolate milk in the fridge? How did it get there? Or are they planning to melt chocolate and make chocolate milk?). This makes me a frustrating person to ask a question of, I bet. But they keep asking.
It would seem that Matthew can answer every question asked. Usually without looking up the answer. ANd we all wonder how in the world he knows that answer too...
So chaos, creativity, clutter and a simultaneous aversion to clutter (and no budget for hiring someone to help with it) make us a family always just a little bit unkempt.
Abby is the product of all of that plus a ton of love. She's grown up with the security of a mom and dad who love each other and who try very hard to trust God and love the gifts He has given us. We point her to Christ when she's sad, when we're confused, when things are great but our hearts are not grateful. So she has this wildness to her--she has the creativity without the same hang-ups we have. She is smart but doesn't think that a PhD is impossible to get (nor is she sure she'd want one or that it matters right now for her to know either way). She is easily frustrated, has high expectations of herself when it comes to drawing and creating with her hands. Her feelings are easily hurt and she is annoyed by kids at school, but she comes home and shares her heart without holding back. And then she feels better.
Abby is loving, intense, capable of more than she realizes, clever, funny, blessed, healthy, modest, energetic, prone to headaches and bellyaches (especially when she needs to clean up her room). She's not tidy--she's way too busy and creative for that. She's a good friend, loves to spoon and snuggle. She's learning to be an encourager. She is beautiful.
Happy Birthday, precious Abby, we love you so much.
Abby's experience of life has been different from a lot of her friends around here. Matthew and I married young and had Abby when we were 24 and 25. We had just started grad school and the long road to figuring out what kind of work we would do (we're still on that long road eleven years later...). So our lives have held uncertainty and cross-country moves, long seasons of job searches and impending change, living far from family, and always budget constrained. Matthew and I are both good at some things and lousy at others, and in the places where our "lousy" overlaps, there are these gaps that make life more challenging. We're not great at being consistent and intentional about traditions. Not great planners. So much of life feels ad hoc, a little last minute, a little chaotic. Matthew is in his head a lot and I am "available" to the kids but feel stunned and dazed by the pace of life and of the kids' questions. I rarely have an immediate answer to any question--needing to say the words back to myself at least once before answering (can. Noah. get. chocolate. milk. UH, yes, I think so. Can he? Wait, no. We never have chocolate milk. Is there chocolate milk in the fridge? How did it get there? Or are they planning to melt chocolate and make chocolate milk?). This makes me a frustrating person to ask a question of, I bet. But they keep asking.
It would seem that Matthew can answer every question asked. Usually without looking up the answer. ANd we all wonder how in the world he knows that answer too...
So chaos, creativity, clutter and a simultaneous aversion to clutter (and no budget for hiring someone to help with it) make us a family always just a little bit unkempt.
Abby is the product of all of that plus a ton of love. She's grown up with the security of a mom and dad who love each other and who try very hard to trust God and love the gifts He has given us. We point her to Christ when she's sad, when we're confused, when things are great but our hearts are not grateful. So she has this wildness to her--she has the creativity without the same hang-ups we have. She is smart but doesn't think that a PhD is impossible to get (nor is she sure she'd want one or that it matters right now for her to know either way). She is easily frustrated, has high expectations of herself when it comes to drawing and creating with her hands. Her feelings are easily hurt and she is annoyed by kids at school, but she comes home and shares her heart without holding back. And then she feels better.
Abby is loving, intense, capable of more than she realizes, clever, funny, blessed, healthy, modest, energetic, prone to headaches and bellyaches (especially when she needs to clean up her room). She's not tidy--she's way too busy and creative for that. She's a good friend, loves to spoon and snuggle. She's learning to be an encourager. She is beautiful.
Happy Birthday, precious Abby, we love you so much.
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