My Daughter, Her Helper, & My Favorite Hymn

 

Quite a long time ago, we had given Moriah a string art project--something she had never done before, but something we were sure that she, with her love of all things crafty, would love.

I have no idea why it took us so long to actually get it out of the box and do it; there doesn't seem to be any reasonable explanation for that at all!

But the fact of the matter is that the project languished in its box for months, never even taken out or closely examined...

...until today, when Moriah and her project-oriented*, helpful big brother Tobin decided to tackle it. (*Seriously. The word "project" works like magic for Tobin.  If you have a project you need done, whether it's big or small, he's the man for the job.)  :)

For some reason, I had assumed that the directions would be quite complicated, with very specific instructions for which nails to loop the string around when, and in what order, and how many times, and so forth.  

But as it turned out, the "instructions" basically said, "loop the string around the nails," and that was about it!  It didn't seem to matter exactly what pattern was produced; it was going to be pretty no matter what.  :)

And indeed, it turned out to be a thing of beauty, a worthy addition to a previously bare corner of the living room.  

If you forced me to choose my favorite hymn, out of all the hundreds that I love, I would probably have to rank "It Is Well with My Soul" in the top place...for the jaw-dropping story of the life of the composer, for its connection with our beloved university in Jerusalem where Jeff and I first met (Horatio Spafford, the author of the words of "It Is Well" is buried on the grounds of that school), for the memories that wash over me of playing this hymn at the funerals--not quite a year and a half apart--of my maternal grandfather and maternal grandmother, and for the sheer power of the words.  Such a magnificent declaration of rock-solid faith!  It moves me so deeply that I can scarcely ever get through the hymn with dry eyes.

When I die, if folks gather for any kind of a memorial service, I hope they sing this hymn.  

Until then, I will be reminded of the truth contained therein--and the joy of seeing two of my children work together on a long-delayed project--each time I glance at it in its new position of visibility.  

No More Candyland?

It felt like the end of an era.

On July 26, a Sunday evening, I had some free time and asked my two youngest children if they would like to play a game--"maybe Candyland?", I suggested.

In the past, this would have been met with enthusiasm, and the ancient Candyland game (the one I had played when I was a very young child) would have been carried up cheerfully from the game closet downstairs.  But on this particular evening, Moriah and Benjamin said, "We don't want to play Candyland. Could we play Skip Bo instead?"

Well, yes.  We could, and we did.  I enjoy a good game of Skip Bo, to be sure!  But my heart seized up a little.

When did my littlest guy get big enough to actually play a game like Skip Bo?  Have we outgrown our Candyland years?

44

We interrupt the regularly scheduled broadcast of coverage of the Fisher family's activities during the COVID-19 pandemic to bring you a pleasant change of topic...

I had a birthday!!!  :)

I will write in more detail about the birthday when I get to Day 21 (April 1, my actual birthday) of my quarantine journal; but for tonight, let me share some pictures of the cake...

...the cake which got made a day late...

...but who cares because for once, we're not in a hurry to go anywhere!  So if we have cake on April 2nd instead of the 1st, nobody is bothered in the least.  :)

My earliest and most unchanging favorite ice cream flavor is mint chocolate chip; and if that ice cream could be a cake, it would be this one.  :)  We call it Shank cake (the reason is told here), and it's loved by everyone in our family--unlike some of my other favorite cakes, like coconut cake or German chocolate cake.  How someone could NOT like homemade German chocolate cake is beyond my comprehension, but there are actually some people sleeping under my roof tonight who claim that it is true!!  ;-)  Goodness!  Just because it has coconut in it!  ;-)

Well, since we're all sort of stuck with each other now, I wanted to have my birthday cake this year be something that all the family would enjoy, so Thursday late afternoon, Moriah and I got to work, mixing up the batter for this bit of deliciousness.  Later that night, after Jeff and I finished our online d-time with our good friends Ben and Melanie, I whipped up the icing and assembled the cake; and when the younger kids finished watching their episode of Redwall, we all gathered in the dining room for one last part of my official birthday celebration.

When Benjamin saw the cake, he exclaimed, "IT LOOKS BEAUTIFUL!!"  :)  He's good for my ego.  :)

Moriah asked if she could put the candles in place; and because we only have one numeral 4, she had to use four individual candles for the second digit of my age.  Tobin and Shav got the honor of lighting them.

I think here, Jeff was pointing out that the wax from the red candle was dripping down onto the icing because it was taking so long for them to sing "Happy Birthday" to me.  :)

Oh well, it's not really birthday cake unless it has a little wax on the icing, right?  ;-)

Benjamin was pretty excited.

Pretty adorable, too.  ;-)

If I had a way to do so, I would share a piece of Shank cake with each of you who is reading, so imagine that you're eating a slice of cake while you read on to find out...

Eight Random Facts about Me!  :)

1. I love the sight of a house sitting catty corner on a lot.  Since 99% of houses are built squarely on their piece of land, the rare ones that sit diagonally always catch my eye--and my admiration.

2. I'm not doing any of this nowadays; but when life is normal and I am able to prepare a meal to take to someone (that has, for example, had a new baby, or is sick), I have discovered that it is certifiably impossible for me to make the meal, get out the door on time to deliver it to them, and keep a clean kitchen.  One of the last two items has to go!  It seems in such situations, I am ALWAYS in a rush, and I end up leaving the kitchen looking like a whirlwind has swept through it.  At least the people receiving the meal don't know (or care!) what the appearance of my kitchen is at that moment!  (But if I ever bring you a meal at some point in the future, you already know the secret: that when I appear at your door, my kitchen is A MESS!).  ;-)

3. During the past 12 months, I finally made peace with my nose.  ;-)  That has always been the physical feature of myself that I liked the least, but this past year as I looked at other people's noses, I realized that I would actually rather have my nose than some of theirs.  Shocking, I know.  ;-)  I do consider it a sign that I am advancing in wisdom and maturity that I have, by the grand old age of 44, reached this stage of actually being grateful for my own nose!  ;-)

4. And speaking of appearances...  It was no surprise when I started to go gray; with the genetics that I have, there was no way around it!  I remember my mother with brown hair...but that was because she had it colored...until one day she stopped doing that, and we were happy.  I loved her gray hair--still do.  Going back another generation or two, I only ever remember my grandmother and my great-grandmother having beautiful gray/white hair, although of course in their younger years, they had brown hair (I guess it was brown; I'm honestly not sure!).  So I completely expected to turn gray myself, but what I DIDN'T expect was to like it so much!  I really like my hair--and not just because of the haircut Jeff gave me recently (although I like that quite a bit, too!), but because of the color, this mixture of diminishing-brown and increasing-gray.  My one hesitation about gray hair was that I didn't want to be completely gray while I was still bearing children; but since Benjamin is four years old now, I guess I don't mind if it all goes gray at this point!  But meanwhile, I'm liking the highlights of color that my head naturally produces (and to think that some women pay a lot of money in a salon to get highlights--hahaha!!).  ;-)

5. Speaking of getting older...  :)  In general, life is getting a whole lot easier (current pandemic notwithstanding).  Why?  Because having kids who are old enough (and mature enough) to babysit is a GAME-CHANGER!!  My vivid memories of being a mother of young children who had to take them all everywhere I went are an ever-present reminder of just how tough it is to be a mother of young children--whether you have one or two or half-a-dozen.  Now that Josiah and David are old enough to watch their younger siblings, it's A WHOLE NEW WORLD, folks.  I can go have lunch with a friend, go to a Bible study, go to Aldi for groceries, go to the dentist for a root canal, and other assorted fun(?) activities ALL BY MYSELF.  (Of course, not at the current time with our self-quarantine, but when life is normal.)  I am so grateful for my old-enough, mature-enough, competent-enough, loving-enough big kids!!  Jeff and I never want them to feel taken for granted as built-in babysitters; but at the same time, it IS a way they can help the family.  Our plan at this point to try to strike the right balance is to pay $2 an hour for babysitting of younger siblings.  If Josiah is away, for example, and David is in charge by himself, he gets $2 an hour.  If both Josiah and David are here and are involved, they each get $1 per hour.  It's not a lot of money, but it gives them some pocket change (or gas money, if you're a teen driver who is learning firsthand how quickly gas tanks get empty in cars!).  And it is a HUGE help for me.  Seriously life-changing.

6. I do not understand the allure of Disney World.  I like amusement parks as much as anyone, but Disney, with its exorbitant prices??  I just don't get it.  Besides the outrageous cost, the thought of standing in a long line for somebody dressed up like a character from a Disney movie to sign my kid's autograph book makes me break out in hives.  YOU'RE NOT REALLY CINDERELLA, YOU KNOW.  There are about a thousand other places I'd rather be.  But I know there are plenty of other wise, wonderful people who absolutely love Disney, so it must be that I'm just missing something about how great it is.  ;-)

7. When it comes to how much sleep I get, I have three voices in my head.  One tells me that I should stay up late and talk to my kids who are night owls because teens especially tend to stay awake later and be available for conversation at that point in the day (partially because earlier in the day, younger siblings are prone to interrupt or be so noisy we can't even hear ourselves think!).  Another voice says you need to go to bed early so you can wake up early to have your quiet time with God.  And the third voice incessantly reminds me that for my health--especially my brain health, because insufficient sleep can raise the risk of Alzheimer's, which is a concern anyway because of my family history--I need to make getting enough sleep a priority!  Which one do I listen to?

8. I started this list of random things with a comment about houses, so I'll circle back around and end with the same theme.  Undoubtedly, my absolute, all-time favorite feature of a house is a front porch--a nice wide one with enough room for a couple of rocking chairs, a swing hanging from the ceiling, and a stand to hold a pitcher of lemonade and a mancala board in the summertime.  Oh, and flower boxes of geraniums along the front of the porch.  :)  The ironic thing is that I have actually never lived in a house with a front porch--visited, yes; lived, no.  Ridiculous, isn't it?  ;-)  My deep abiding admiration for front porches must come entirely from my maternal grandparents' old farmhouse with a--you guessed it--wonderful wide front porch.  Some of the sweetest memories of my childhood come from that farm and that house and that porch.  My love of front porches is so strong that I honestly don't understand why builders build any houses without a front porch--haha!  But all kidding aside, it is so strong that I literally have to guard my heart against front porch envy.  In fact, every time I confess sin, front porch envy could be on the list!  I have high hopes that when I get to heaven, the home Jesus is preparing for me will have a front porch.  It would be fine if it's small (I really love the idea of tiny houses), but I sure do hope it has a front porch.  :)

And maybe a pitcher of lemonade.  :)

And maybe a Shank cake.  :)

Moriah & the Lilacs {A New Twist}

Earlier today, when someone gently nudged me to consider blogging again, I pushed the idea aside.  I don't have time to blog!

But tonight, as I sit here in a quieted-down house, a thought pushes its way into my mind and refuses to be ignored...

Maybe I could.

Maybe I could blog again.  Maybe, just once in a while, I could make time for this.  Maybe, every so often, I could find enough mental energy at the end of the day to jot down a few thoughts, rather than  reading or mindlessly scrolling through Facebook or collapsing in sleep.  Maybe I could set aside the tasks that surround me and scream "URGENT," and instead remember the value of recording life in this way.  Maybe...

So tonight, I will...with no firm promise about when this feat shall be repeated!  :)

********

Ever since the spring of 2012, when Moriah was born, bringing the spectacular beauty of daughterhood into our home, lilacs have held special meaning for me, far beyond their loveliness and fragrance.  Here is the beginning of that tale.

The spring of 2018 was different.  For the first time since Moriah's birth (and many years before that), we didn't live in the house with the lilac bushes behind it.  True, we were great friends with our former neighbors, the current owners of the house; but we no longer lived there, and I didn't want to intrude in any way on the owners or the new renters that had moved into my childhood home.  But my heart ached a little at the abrupt ending of the cherished tradition of going with Moriah to cut bouquets of lilacs every spring (an example is here).  "Should I ask them if I could still take pictures of Moriah beside the lilac bushes?" I wondered, but never inquired, convincing myself that perhaps it was best to let the tradition slip away.  Since so much in life had changed because of our move to northern Virginia, was it necessary to hang onto that bit of sameness?  But I felt a tinge of sadness, even as my pragmatic side called out, "Let it go!"

And then, one Monday evening, during a visit to the Shanks, the wonderful family we had lived beside for over a dozen years, they offered to give us a bouquet of those lilacs.  My heart leaped!  This could be a way to preserve the tradition!

We brought those glorious blooms back to Annandale, and the next day, Moriah wore a purple dress and stood in our front yard, holding the bouquet in the vase we always used for lilacs.  No, she wasn't standing on the soil where the lilacs grew, but it's okay for flowers to be carried to new places.

It's okay for that to happen to people, too.

Sometimes when we're carried along like that, we get to bring with us pieces of the old days.

At times like this, that is a gift that gladdens the soul and brightens the heart--a sweet reminder of the tender love of God, who knows all and sees all.

Even the longings of our heart.

Even when we haven't even whispered them to anyone else.

Snow Day! In the Spring!

Blogging has fallen so far down on the priority list that I hardly know how to resurrect it!  And yet, I can't convince myself to let it go entirely.  I feel as if I ought to do some kind of a catch-up post; but lacking the time to do justice to that, I'm going to simply dive back in with a simple, picture-heavy post.

This winter was sorely lacking in snow, but today--much to the delight of all of the residents of my household--we finally got a sizable amount!  

Yes, it's officially spring.  :)  

No matter.  We'll take snow anytime, in any season it decides to arrive!  :)

We don't have any kind of sledding hill at our new home, but the snow today was perfect for packing, so snowmen were made and snowballs were thrown at each other, and all that lovely white stuff was heartily enjoyed before the temperatures warm in the next day or two and the snow disappears.

This was the first time that Benjamin had really been out in snow, and he had a ball traipsing around in it.  Now there are eight of us in the snow-lover category!  :)