All 10 Popes

Dearest Mothers of all stripes. Yes, you. All of you. The ones who have it all together. And those of you that think you don't. You, who long to be the best but fall short so many times. The ones who think that well, "if I was just more organized..." And the ones that already are. You, who look at your kid(s) and wonder if ever they'll get it "right" and do I have to explain that to you again for 1.1 millionth time? The one with little(s). To the one with big(s). And you, who might just have both and everything in between. You who struggle. You who pray. You who want the very best for those big brown eyes looking, staring right into the heart of you. Mom! That's you. That is me. Mom, you, my dear are amazing. Yes, I know that kid threw a big ol' Texas size fit at church and people were giving you that look while you tried and fought and gave him "the look." But you didn't give in. You stayed your ground. You gave firm grace....

I sat down a couple days ago to type out a "love" post for Valentines Day. Not getting very far into it, I laid the laptop aside for something else and then went to bed, I believe. The next day was a challenge. To love, I mean. Especially some of the little people in my life. A few days before that, the first graders and I spoke a lot about pride. I did a pretty good job (in my professional teaching opinion) talking to them about this heart issue they were having.  And then God, in his abundant grace, did an even better job of helping me to see my heart issue in relation to pride too these last few days. Yup, He's good like that. Once I believe that I have some of the answers about something, he reminds me that I have a lot to learn. What amazing grace. What love that is. A God that cares that much. It stings a little, yes and if I'm honest a lot sometimes especially in those moments where I know what I am doing or saying or thinking is not motivated by love for Him...

Recently, I walked down to The Spot alone. I was off to fetch a Pepsi. It's just over yonder (as my mother would say.) And in the winter it might actually take more time to get ready to go then it does to actually walk down there.  Winter in the U.P. ain't no joke.  It's serious business. No, seriously if it doesn't snow a lot then people are out of a job. And so, these 10 Popes take having fun in it very. serious. :) See lil' Naomi's face? So serious. T was just excited he was allowed to "hold" her. He might be on no touching orders since he likes to use his mouth as a place to rest his fingers. I guess it's comfy. I do have to say that my Love is a better father than I even ever imagined could be Simply Amazing. Thank you Lord. Amen. Yes, that's a one big pile-o-snow. It's January. I try not to think about that much. And then there is this....

"I think I may be crazy. You have four kids, Kari. Your life is hectic and crazy, so you are the person I thought to call," said a dear friend on the phone. I know her heart. It was a compliment. Not offended in the least, and a bit dumbfounded she would think to call lil' ol' me I said, "What's up?!" "The agency wants to place 3 kids with us. They are all under 5 years old. And I'm, well, not getting any younger." Her voice is sure, excited, and questioning. "What do you think?" she asks. "Why not?" is what I think I said, but I can't be positive. Why not?  I ask, as sure, excited and questioning though extremely ignorant and not really knowing it. We usually don't know when we are do we? Ignorant, I mean. That was almost two years ago.  We hang up.  I'm pretty sure she should have called someone else.  Someone older.  Wiser.  Not me. The night the kids show up at her house, I arrive too...

It seems that I have this form of writer's block where I write very witty, remarkable posts...all in my head. Oh, yes ones that you would love to read, and comment about. They just never seem to leave my head and journey down that long, weary road to my fingers. Then I actually find this speck, yes speck of time to write (ok that's not entirely true, I do have time...I just don't use it to write here all the time.) I do have a life people. Ok that's not entirely true either, at least not in the connotation I was using it in.  So then, when I do sit down to write in that speck of time...it's gone. All. Of. It. Just gone...gone...gone...gone...gone (which BTW is a song by the group 33Miles that was my oldest son's favorite song for about 5 years...he loved it so much that I can't say the word with out trying to break out into the chorus...seriously....PTL we've moved on from that). Anywhoo, I don't really know what to write. I want to say that I'...

This is going to sound like I'm bragging. I assure you that I am not. I do have a point, promise. Just keep reading or don't and go make a smoothie (yum!) for yourself and paroose something more interesting.Otherwise here goes...and stay with me ok? This morning I woke up at 5:30. This. NEVER. Happens. Ask my husband. He's usually up by at least 6:30. But this morning his phone alarm that rings every morning at (God help us all) 5 am, woke me up as well as my college aged neighbors (I'm certain of it) because the tone was shrieking at me loud and hard. Did I say 5 am? Ok I'm moving on...  Now usually, I don't even hear that dreaded melody, and if I do I lovingly (ok maybe not so lovingly all the time) wonder if he is going to get up and turn it off. 9 times out of 10 he does b/c well, I'm not sure that most of me is actually alive. Today it was my turn. Plus I can't figure out how to set my heater so it doesn't feel like Hawaii inside my room at ...

We walk to school back in June to grab the kids from school. She walking next to me, lanky, not even a foot shorter any more. Thick hair down her back and I see it then: who she is becoming. I see who the Lord is molding her into and what a hard, wild ride the last year has been. Really, how many years have been for us. A struggle. And how I praise the Lord for what He has done in her. I asked her if she remembered the day that she told me that she was going to run away and I asked if I could help her pack her bags. I asked her to look back and remember who she was and what a year with Jesus can do for the soul. She smiles big. There is sadness there for what used to be in us both as well as a love that was worth growing in both of our hearts that we would never want to be taken away. A mother's heart will always be for what is hers, for what came from her, for what has been given and I feared and worried that we were some how stealing something from our biological children b...