Missing the Little Years

recently i've seen a lot of those sweet, tear-jerker-cartoony 

 sayings posted on pinterest and facebook,

all about motherhood.

you know the ones -

 they say stuff like:

be thankful for the laundry,

you'll miss it whens it's gone.

or 

these sweet days and grubby handprints will vanish all too soon.

 or 

the mess and crying and tantrums will be over,

and you'll find your house sadly quiet.

       and,

it's lateish and i'm tired.

but...

i don't believe the sayings.

 

if you've read my blog for anytime or know me,

i hope that you get that i'm really a  

mainly positive, cherish-every-minute kinda mom.

i hope that you get that i'm pretty laid back,

and we paint and run and dart gun and jump of the couch and over the ottoman 

and i'm really {mostly} okay with it all.

 but still,

i don't believe all the cutesy sayings,

and i kinda feel like they're out to make moms out there feel guilty.

because really?

my laundry room,

with 2 piles of wet towels in front of the washer, 

kid clothes currently in the washer that i just did a quick wash on again because they had sat in there way too long,

and a load of sheets in the dryer that i just hit fluff on?

i won't miss them.

the 45 minutes that i just did dishes?

won't miss it.

the crumbs that i just cleaned up off the floor for the 284th time today?

i will be happy when the floors stay clean. truly, deeply happy.

crumbs make me crazy.

      but you know? after months of seeing these cartoons,
and thinking and dwelling and thinking on them all, 

i've decided it's the backstory that those cartoons are really talking about.

that backstory?

that is what i WILL miss.

you see,

the wet towels in front of the laundry are from the kids playing with spoons and bowls and tupperware and water and vinegar and baking soda and eyedroppers making {formulas}. 

 my sweet-6-year-old was making a "rock" collection out of the baking soda reactions.

that? them sitting and playing at the kitchen island

 and hearing their chatter while i prep supper?

i'll miss.

the reason i had to fluff the wrinkled sheets?

we stayed outside on a suprisingly warm winter day,

and the kids shoveled and scooped and dug in the melting ice and snow, 

and they piled it and pushed it around in the stroller.

my sweet three-year-old became insistant on pulling the wagon through the ice,

and even strapped in her bear that rode along.

that? the laughing outside and running from my 6-year-old

 as he tries to shove snow down my coat?

i'll miss.

the crumbs on the floor are from the bread and potato soup we had for dinner, where both kids preceded to eat just the inside of the dinner rolls, not the crust.  grant thought it looked like a cave, and grace ended up shoving all the crust in her mouth all-at-once.

that? the sweet dinner time, sharing what we're thankful for from the day? hearing my 6-year-old pray a pray for his dad's back that was hurting?

i'll miss.

i promise i won't miss the actual towels and crumbs and toys and paper and hats and gloves strewn on the floor.  i promise i won't miss the actual crying-through-a-store and takes-18-minutes-to-get-into-the-car-to-go-anywhere process.

i won't miss the nitty-gritty-stuff of this raising kids business.

but, the backstory behind the nitty-gritty?

i'll miss it. 

always and forever,  

        i'll miss it.          

            

 

      

Wednesday.

{a day in our life}.

grant is home today, which i love.

he goes to a hybrid school, so on Tuesdays and thursday he's at school, and the other days we work at home. it's a fabulous fit for our family and our schedule.

so, this is our life.

after starting my day with some coffee and this,

i finished a few of these up.

 

and now we're making valentine's for grant's party tomorrow, 

and a few to deliver to some older people at church.

like the sweet Miss Joyce that loads the kids up 

with way-too-many-cookies-from-the-cafe every sunday.

 

grace wants glitter. and is asking for it every 2.5 seconds.

i love glitter. truly.  just have to kinda gear up to let my 3 year old have it.

she's specifically asking for the {messy} kind,

as in the real deal glitter, not glitter glue.

oh my. 

may have to break this out.

back later with glitter updates.

2012 refletions.

what i would've written on New Year's Eve, 

had we not been traveling and minus a computer and decent internet connection.

--

i like to spend some time on NYE thinking about the Lord's faithfulness to us over the previous year and praying about what He has in store for the upcoming year.

this past week, 

as i've flipped back through my prayer journal, seeing all that God has done 

{and, wow, has He done so much in our lives throughout 2012!}

i read what i wrote on new year's eve, 2011:

Hebrews 10:23 says 

let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful.

yes! May I hold fast this new year, because HE is faithful -

 not that our circumstances will be easy, or that we'll be healthy,

 but because He will be faithful.

 

I actually wrote that, folks.

{that we'll be healthy}

i think that perhaps, in some supernatural way, 

the Spirit of our Living God was preparing me for all the health situations 2012 would hold.

{though i never could've imagined them}.

Last year, I wrote about specific Memorial Stones from 2011 -

specific situations through which we will always remember 

God's specific, provisionary faithfulness in our lives.

looking back on 2012?

i kinda feel like the entire year was a testimony to God's faithfulness.

sure, i was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.

but, so much bigger than that,

our Lord has showed up in so many ways to comfort, direct, and encourage me.

through numerous testing, numerous doctor appointments, numerous early mornings with my coffee and Bible the Lord has given me friends that have said the right thing, verses that speak deep to my darkest fears, and a husband that has been rock-solid through it all.

after Joshua and the Isrealites crossed the Jordan river, they built altars -

tangible reminders of the Lord's extreme presence in their lives.

for me?

multiple sclerosis will always be my Memorial Stone.

every time my pinky finger tingles,

every time my hand burns,

every daily injection?

it's just a tangible, physical reminder of the Lord's purpose for my life.

and a tangible, physical reminder that His purpose?

it's so much higher, so much bigger, so much better than my purposes could ever be.

no eye has seen, nor ear heard,
    nor the heart of man imagined,
what God has prepared for those who love him

i corinthians 2:9

i would like to think that 2013 will be a bit calmer, a bit more typical, and maybe even a bit boring.

i kinda don't think so, though.

through it all,

if my MS gets worse, if we deal with some brand new health issue, 

or if the Lord brings something we never would have imagined into our lives,

may we hold fast to the confession of our faith.

not because it's easy.

but because HE is faithful.

may your New Year be filled with faith and hope, too.

Christmas.

it happened to me again this year.

try as i might,

it hasn't really felt like Christmas.

twinkly white lights along our fireplace,

the Christmas present shopping,

the evergreen scent in our sunroom.

they've helped.

but it hasn't really, truly felt like Christmas to me.

but, once again,

at a simple, sweet preschool Christmas program,

it happened.

the Christmas spirit captured my heart,

and i {not-so-successfully} blinked back tears

as sweet three-and-four-year-olds sang.

the innocence of the Little Ones in our lives singing about the Christ Child

focused my heart. my vision was tunneled to the Baby in the Manger, and all the periphereal holiday stuff, that although fun, sometimes clutters up our Season, was out of sight.

this is the reason for the Season.  

i worship the Baby in the Manger turned Man on the Cross.

in that church sanctuary on a normal-turned-magical Tuesday evening,

my heart sang along with the preschoolers' and, all-of-a-sudden,

it felt like Christmas.

shout, sing, worship the King.

Jesus is Born and 

{He's Such Good News.}

yes, yes, yes.

He is such.good.news.

merry-6-days-before-Christmas.

 

The One in Which You See Anna

{post title courtesy of the sitcom Friends, for those of you who watched that show.

we were avid Friends fans, in the day...and may or may not have even owned a copy of the Friends trivia game, and may or may not have played it religiously with dear, special friends with whom clearly we watched way too much TV}

--

about a month ago,

i had the extremely humbling

{oh so humbling}

 experience of being able to share my heart at our church's women's retreat.

i blog off and on about multiple sclerosis and what I've been learning through it.

and, i am so {so, so, so}

much more comfortable in my sweats in front of a keyboard 

than I am with a microphone in front of an audience.

but, i was deeply thankful to be able to share my story of multiple sclerosis and what the Lord has taught me through it over the last eleven months.

so, here you go.

the post in which you see anna.

 and i may die right now, so i will press {publish} before i hit delete. 

{watching yourself on video is a bit, well, brutal}

here's the video from that night,

if you'd like to hear it.

the first part is through about 12 minutes,

and the next part is about 35 minutes after that.

{if the embed doesn't work, this is the link}

Christmas and Multiple Sclerosis

it's a rainy Saturday afternoon here,

and i sit eating one of my favorite soups 

{Panera Bread's vegetarian and low fat black bean}

our favorite-five-year-old is spending the Saturday with some grandparents,

and my favorite three-year-old is playing tea party with her animals.

{which, btw, my nativity set might not survive 

a certain animal-loving-three-year-old this year}.

 we've been kind of status-quo around here recently,

which,

after being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, is really good.

it's so nice to answer {we're good}

to the question how are y'all doing?

My MS symptoms are virtually non-existant.

except for a low-fat diet and daily injections,

i have little reminders of this progressive neurological disease.

and, when those reminders do come in the form of a tingly foot or burning hand,

it's just a reminder that this life is so short, and i am {we are!}

so desperately dependent on my Savior.

my heart is full looking into this Holiday season.

i have such new depth of awareness for the hope that we celebrate this year -

the hope that came in the form of a baby in a manger.

that baby brings me hope for this life -

that even if my barely-whispered worst-case-MS-scenarios came true down the road,

i will not be hopeless.

and i will be able to do all things through Him who will strengthen me, 

should that time come.

that baby brings hope for the next life -

hope for new bodies,

bodies not scarred by the sin of this world.

hope for an eternity spent by the throne,

saying worthy, worthy, worthy is the Lamb.

happy advent season, all.