fun in the sun (and snow)

Another day, another snowstorm. Oh well. We've been too sick to go anywhere, so we bundled up and went out to enjoy a bright, snowy day. Audrey fancies herself quite the jumper and had to try it out on the piles of snow. She and Isaac love walking on the mountains left behind by snow plows while I push Elliot in the stroller. They were trying to jump 180s and 360s off of the piles. Good fun!



playing hide and seek with 2-year-olds is the best!

Who is this kid?

 with a body big enough to drape over the table and legs that don't need to stretch to reach the floor?

 with seven candles on his birthday ice cream and a big-toothed smile?

 with a new big kid bike?

 with reading skills and the desire to read his history encyclopedia before breakfast?

with a buddy over to celebrate his birthday with a "hockey game?" (read, two kids sliding and fumbling after a puck all over the ice and having the time of their lives!)

It's bad. Real bad.

It started with a fever. We weren't surprised because Audrey went down first, then Isaac. We figured Elliot would get it, too, since sharing toys is tricky, but sharing germs is a piece of cake. So, I had three kids on my lap and read millions of books. Audrey felt better. Isaac was on the mend.

 We hoped Elliot would be well soon. But then one day at lunch,after eating a few bites of his black bean quesadilla, he said the unimaginable. "I don't like fruit." Rewind. What? If you know this kid, you  know this is highly abnormal behavior since I'm pretty sure he'd eat it until his body exploded. At that point, I knew he was in a bad place.

 Little did we know that was only the beginning. As I made dinner that night he said he wasn't hungry. Rewind. What? Now, you don't really have to know this kid, but only need to look at his sweet cheekers to know this is not normal! Instead of eating, he spent dinner on the couch doing this.

 Isn't that just pathetic? No breakfast again the next morning. The poor boy had a little fever, a little cough, and no appetite.

He's feeling slightly better today, but has taken up residence in my lap for the past 5 days. It's our first major illness of the winter so it could be much worse, but we are all tired of it. Especially this little guy!

Valentine's wishes (6 days late)

photos courtesy of Isaac. I took his picture.

home

I realized this morning that it was one month ago that I left for Costa Rica. It really feels like yesterday. I am there so often throughout the day, in my thoughts, in my prayers, in my conversations. The other day we were looking at pictures and Isaac said, "I love Costa Rica already and I haven't even been there yet." We were at church two weeks ago and a man who went on the mission trip last year asked me a question that has stuck with me. He said, "So how is it being back? Are you back to normal life yet?" It took me a few seconds to think of an answer. I replied, "I"m trying really hard not to be." I don't want my normal life back. I don't want to think of the trip as a once-a-year event. It has changed me.
So, I fight against caring about traffic because it just isn't important. I decide not to join Moms on the Run this spring because that money can be used for so much more. We shop at the organic grocery store because I've toured the banana plantations where the growing bananas are covered in chemical-laden bags and the workers have to stay in their houses every Tuesday and Thursday mornings because the airplanes fly low to spray pesticides.

Little steps, to be sure, but I think about all of the little steps every day so that my life doesn't return to normal.

this kid!

Presenting: Deep Thoughts with Elliot

"mama. I don't know what God looks like."
"I don't know what he looks like either, Elliot. No one has seen God. What do you think God looks like?"
"Umm. Grayish-brownish."

"mama. One time I threw up and I had to stay home with dada and you went bye bye. I was really mad. And every time you go somewhere and I don't go with you, I feel really mad and sad."

Seven

"All children, except one, grow up."
J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan

There was a time that I wished that one, the child who would stay little forever, was my son. I reveled in his infancy, his weight in my arms, his nuzzling on my neck, his delight at zerbert kisses, the way he rubbed his ear.




But he got bigger and turned one anyway. And he still fit in my arms just right and not only did he love getting zerberts, but he gave them right back, and he kept rubbing his ear and my ear and his dada's ear. Plus he started walking and talking and laughing that Isaac laugh that I never tire of. He grew crazy for books, especially chicka chicka boom boom. And, again, I wanted him to stay little forever.

 But he turned two anyway. And he started making this hilarious face that totally freaked me out at first and made me think he was having a seizure until I calmed down and realized he was trying to be silly and wanted us to laugh. So we did because two year olds are funny and give really great hugs and fit just perfectly in arms, even if their legs do hang down a little more than I was used to. And I thought it couldn't possibly get any better than this.

But three,

then four,

 then five,

 six (gasp!),

and now seven happened. Each year passed and brought new milestones and new challenges and new reasons to laugh together and play together and love together.

The bottom line is that Isaac is awesome. He is funny and smart and kind and goofy and really good to people. He works hard and tries his hardest and loves with his whole heart. He gets excited about going to the library and doing math. He runs in the house sometimes and is known to play much too rowdy in our basement and doesn't always listen the first time and even bosses his sister around now and again. But he is an awesome son and a phenomonal brother and a kind friend and we're so proud of him. His blessing to our family cannot be measured. 

And I no longer wish he were the one who wouldn't grow up. Do I miss a baby chewing on my finger to work a tooth through? Heck yeah! But today my seven-year-old and I talked about perseverance and doing the right thing even when other people don't. We sang songs together and pretended we were rockin' drummers and danced around our kitchen. Things change. Relationships change. And it's not only ok, it's great.

Then tonight I tucked my big boy in and sang him the same lullaby I've been singing for seven years and 3 days. Because he may be seven, but he's still my little boy. Just in case you ever wonder.

journal from jan 29

At the airport. Heartbroken. Torn. Missing a child in my lap and a hubby next to me. If they were here, I would never leave. I never expected this. To feel so torn about leaving. To fall in love with a country that I once saw as so far away. To feel completely at home with people I'd never met. To be inspired in such a way. To feel as though I am leaving a piece of me here that can only be returned to me once I return to Costa Rica. To care so very little about any of the trivialities awaiting me. To start to cry all over again at the sight of the gorgeous towering mountains outside the airport window, the dense trees casting a shadow over the road leading to Chilamate. To feel a kinship with a woman I shared a bus seat with for 30 minutes. To share ideas I've felt nurtured inside of me with a new friend and contact at ILCO. To feel a peace in my soul. To see God's work so clearly. To see God's plan for me and my family unfolding before my eyes. To dread leaving for fear that my complacent, ridiculous, selfish ways will return. To hear the laughter of children and think of my beautiful children, of course, but also Faviola and Andru and Min and Ashley. To miss Costa Rica before I even leave. Heartbroken. Torn.

In the plane. I took a deep breath as I walked down to the airplane in hopes I could breathe in all that is good and beautiful and right about Costa Rica.
Flying over the mountains of Costa Rica. I see them with such a new perspective. Tucked away in tiny villages and huge cities are people from my church. My church in Christ. There is no distinction.
I see the ocean. Costa Rica is now a memory. At breakfast, George said that the real mission starts now. What do we do now? What do I do now?

journal from jan 27

I have laughed and joked and played here, adn through the laughter and play, strangers have become friends. Friends from chuch that I have walked past as strangers many Sundays. That will never happen again. Friends like Meghan and Rodolfo and Geraldine and Genesis, Kimberli, Fernanda, baby Luis and his mama Julia. People I did not know nine days ago, but I now count as friends and hope they think of me in the same way.

There is something about this counry, its people, its beauty, this church. From teh first day when we spoke with Melvin, Xinia, and Ana, this country, this church became a part of my sould, it is in the fiber of my being. The vision of this church resonates deep within me, drawing me to it. If I didn't have a family, I would not leave. As it is, I'm so excited to get back to my family, but it is very hard to say goodbye to a place that is so far from my home, yet feels so familiar to me.

Meghan mentioned that it is said that if you swim in the Sarapiqui, you will return to Costa Rica. I know that to be true for me. Braden and Holly went to look at the stars one night while I laughed and played cards with Tim J, Tim S, and Ken. They came back to the lodge and spoke of the brillince of the stars. I walked to the river once our game was over and stared, neck back and slack-jawed, at the wonder of this world: the rushing river I swam in hours earlier under the trees of the rainforest, the shades of green that catch my eye at every turn, the sky on display before me in all of its splendor. At that moment, a shooting star streaked across the sky, so I made my wish.
                                 May Chilamate remain in my heart always.
I will return because this church, small in numbers, is great in vision. Spread out in location, but rich in commitment to the least and the loss. A part of me now.

Elliot's big birthday plans

Mr. Buckethead

We drove to the Science Museum today as part of Isaac's birthday celebration. Elliot was excited to go, but has other plans for his birthday in June. As he sat in the backseat he said, "When it's my birthday, I don't want to go nowhere. I just want to eat my baseball cake." That's our boy!

He had to go and say it

We were having dinner tonight when Isaac took a quick, surprised breath and said, "You know what I just realized?" I said I didn't know. "Starting tomorrow, it's only three years until I turn 10!" I asked him why he had to tell his mama that. He answered, "I know. I surprised myself, too!" As if 7 wasn't big enough!

journal entry from jan 23

Church is a place. A building we visit on Sundays. We sing, pray, even fellowship a bit. Then we go home to return to that place next week. Here (in Costa Rica), church is life. It is work training and family support, after school program and day care, social justice and action. It is God's faithful hearing the cry of God's children and doing their best to meet their needs with very few monetary resources, but an abundance of passion, commitment, love, and vision.

It feels revolutionary in its stark opposition to our understanding of church, but really it is Jesus' vision of church and we (I) have so much to learn. People dream all of the time. They they (I) let life get in the way of their dreams. Jobs, debt, responsibilities, bigger houses, faster cars, a cabin by the lake. The Costa Rican Lutheran church and many of the people I met use every moment of their lives to fulfill and live their dreams. Life is church is dreams is discipleship is caring for the earth is love.

cute fix

 The dog days of winter mean beach fun in the bathtub, balloon volleyball in the basement, lots of crafts, and bubble popping. We should have only one more day below zero before we sneak into the 30's for the weekend. Hallelujah!!

The problem

Here is the problem. I thought I could go on a mission trip and feel useful for Christ and see God's love in others and experience a community of believers united in the common mission of Jesus. Then I could come home and volunteer a little more, appreciate my family more, feel part of a global community of believers. Life would go back to a hopefully improved normal, but normal nonetheless.

But I can't.

And part of me really wishes I could because then I could stop my mind from working in overdrive every single moment and my gut wouldn't ache every single time I eat and my soul wouldn't seize up every time I drive through my perfectly nice neighborhood.

But an overwhelming part of me knows I can't go back and feels only gratitude that God chose to open my eyes and my heart in this way. That God let me see his vision for church in action in Costa Rica.

And now my fervent prayer is that God would make my path clear. That He would use me. That this discomfort I feel would not give way to complacency.

journal entry from jan 22

Chilamate Eco-Forest Lodge

I woke to a rooster, a myriad of birds, a rushing river, and some howler monkeys this morning. I wish I could convey the depth of the quiet that is so very soothing to my soul. In MN, the silence of winter after a fresh snow penetrates the senses and the world is dead in its beauty. All is still. My eye is drawn to nothing but the unending blanket of cold white.
Here there is never silence, but the quiet is magic, inviting me to linger with new friends just a moment longer, drawing me to the river that feels like home as my eyes flit here and there at the darting bugs, swooping birds, and pesky bats. The quiet fills my senses, drawing me to the beautiful Creator of all.

the view from my hammock at the Lodge. A hummingbird loved to dart between the trees and hover about an arms length away from me.

a mountain shrouded in a cloudy blanket

birthday party!

While Isaac will be six for a few more days, we celebrate his birthday with family yesterday. He had a smile etched on his face all day long. I couldn't help but hug him to me many times throughout the day because his joy was so evident. It was a marvelous day of celebration for our very special son.

 The cake unveiling. I think they like it!

 His day started with a basketball game. He got a gray star for best offensive effort. It was so fun to watch him dash here and there. He had a nice, big cheering section and played his hardest from start to end!

 Inbounds pass.

 Party time. Dad and Hollin work on the Football Trivia. They won with a score or 8/10.

 Isaac was thinking hard!

 But not as hard as his uncle.

 gift opening time. We also skated and played outside on the pond.

 Nana/babu/grandkid picture. Isaac requested that everyone wear the color of their favorite football team.

The almost birthday boy with the smile that never left his face.

When she grows up

How will she make a difference? Who will she love? Where will she live? What will she be? What will she be passionate about? What will make her cry? What will bring out that smile? Who will receive her tight hugs? Will she be an astronaut or the first woman in the NFL or a pilot or a mama?
 I try not to get ahead of myself, but Isaac's birthday has me contemplating these growing up kids. I look at them and have to squint my eyes as I strain to remember how they felt placed upon my chest for the first time. How they fit in my arms at 20 inches long. How I knew their every cry instinctually. How Isaac rubbed my ear and Audrey caressed my hair and Elliot stroked my cheeks as we rocked and rocked and rocked before bed.

 What will make her smile this big?

helping make supper. She is a wonderful sous chef!

 And then I see pictures like this, where she is so competent and grown-up. Right now she needs a step stool and some tippy toes to reach over the top of the soup pot, but one day soon she'll be next to me and we'll see eye to eye and we'll have spent her lifetime knowing each other. And I'll love her then as I love her now.

Just in case you ever wonder.

Elliot wonders

"Mama, will you show me where heaven is on the map?"

concentrating hard on his playdough

his favorite pose lately, head cocked, tongue out

big plans

They were shooting a commercial at the indoor amusement park and wanted to fill the place up, so admission was free for four hours. We took advantage and enjoyed a free, fun day with friends the day before I left for Costa Rica.

We are having a fun and snowy winter, but that doesn't mean the kids aren't looking ahead to spring. Isaac got rollerblades for Christmas and he is itching to try them out. Audrey has big plans to ditch the training wheels and bike on two wheels. Even Elliot is talking about triking to the park. One on rollerblades, one on bike,and one on trike means no stroller. Who'd a thunk it?