There will always be a huge draw for me to write whenever I have the chance. It’s my outlet, and this little blog is my sole record keeping for our family. Ever since becoming a momma, an inner turmoil has existed within me that’s vacillated between a longing to write as often as I can to wondering if I should just give it up all together for a while. I want to write more often, more creatively, more powerfully, more authentically, and when it just seems like I can’t fit the mold I envisioned, my hands want to immediately go up in the air with a white flag waving. And this turmoil has been in me almost. every. single. day. I feel a burst of energy and accomplishment if I wrote something worthwhile, then for days…weeks…until the next post, I beat myself up wondering why I can’t get it done.

So, here’s where I am as I get ready to publish this post I began more than a week ago. Just like all of you, I’ve got a lot on my plate. In grace, trying not to give him the short end of the stick, I’m a wife who is ever so thankful for the husband she had no idea how she got in the first place! And despite having kids who from time to time scream at me when they’re mad or grab toys from each other for the millionth time, I find great pleasure and significance in shaping their little hearts and being home with them. This past year, I have wonderful things I’m involved in with our church community. I have no way to get it all done. My type-A, list-making, organizing freak self has lived in a whirlwind the past four years and I can never catch up. Some seasons I am mostly content with that and some seasons it drives me into literal panic attacks. And in between, I like to write.

But here’s the thing I’ve come to realize that’s taken me a long time to be ok with: this is not my season to write. I’m trying as hard as I can to get something thrown up here weekly that is some semblance of memory-making. My Google Reader has an unread list that’s exponentially growing. Just like everyone else, I need to streamline my time and be wise about it. That means less blog reading and as painful as it is to admit, less blog writing. I share this on here mostly for me, to free me of the inner battle of trying to write more frequently, creatively, and about something more than family news. In sweet surrender onto Him who has placed me in these roles, I lay this non-existent writing season in His hands.

++++++++List of thanksgivings from March 19th-April 1st+++++++++

• Brennan’s school is so much fun. I’m up there any chance I get for their monthly special events, March being the pony rides. They graciously include Kensie. I can’t list his teachers and the director of the school on here enough.

He looks like he’s outgrown ponies.

We joined the cowboy for lunch. As you will tell from other pictures, it’s the year of the silly face.

• Wednesday, March 20th. Hands down it was one of my all-time favorite days. It ended up being a celebration of spring. We made chocolate bird nests in the morning before heading to Lowe’s to get an assortment of beautiful flowers. After rest time we went outside to eat our nests, read Wild Birds and plant together. Brennan participated fully by wearing his gardening gloves and meticulously and ever so carefully placing the flowers in the pot. He gave me thirty minutes of effort and then resorted to playing with the hose.

She always hugs her brother during pictures.

• Some days I’m going to lose my mind refereeing with all the grabbing of toys, but some days are laced with sweet companionship and a variety of pretend play. She is his shadow.

• I’d lose my mind if it weren’t for Matt. He gets the kids out of the house and plays with them allowing me, in this case, to get the food and our home ready for company we had over for dinner.

• We had the vestry and their spouses (who are an invaluable support) over for dinner a couple of Saturdays ago. They are a group of people with whom I love serving and highly value. They entered into our rhythm of Lent and we shared a beautiful evening together.
• All dressed in red and ready to loudly declare, “Hosanna in the highest” on Palm Sunday. The meaning of Easter has sunk deep in Brennan this year, and it’s been one of our highest privileges as his parents to hear his questions, see him processing and intently listening. Maundy Thursday was a sacred night for our family. We drove to Chuy’s and quickly turned back home after hearing it was a 55 minute wait. God had something else in mind for our family and surprised us with His Spirit. I’ve personally journaled what happened to remember it. But the Lord was in our home and it was a capstone for our family.

• Dying Easter eggs was fun and wasn’t as messy as I anticipated. Yes, I’m thankful for that.

• We have a very special church community. I can’t describe the depth of love I have for our congregation; I highly esteem them. Our Good Friday service is a night of testimony using the last seven words of Jesus. Each personal story fits with His last words (i.e. “It is finished.”). My brothers and sisters are courageous. They lift up His cross and His resurrection; His suffering and His glory; His life and His death; His becoming nothing and His reigning over all…all of who He is was lifted high through the words of their testimonies.

• Jesus Christ has risen! He is risen indeed! I believe in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, and I love Him ever so much!
• Easter service growing up was my all-time favorite service. Throughout Lent we’d see a huge wooden cross in the front of the church, covered with chicken wire. On Good Friday, it was hung with black cloth. On Easter morning, all the families would bring in fresh cut flowers to stick in the chicken wire so what remained was a cross laden with splashes of bright color, signs of life and a sweet aroma.

My second favorite part of the Easter service was the last song we’d sing during communion called “I Am the Resurrection”. The trumpets and horns would resound with glorious declaration as we sang at the tops of our lungs. It was the last song played during our wedding after communion. And now I find myself among a community of believers who play the song on Easter Sunday as well. A tender smile of affirmation from Matt when they started playing it shows how well he knows me. That song. That song will be played at my memorial service.

• Smiles from Donna Jane and Kensington Jane.

• I’m grateful for a family who let me take the “let’s go out to eat on Easter” wild card this year. We feasted at Jack Allen’s, a new favorite of ours.

This fella had his shirt untucked with grass stains on his pants within minutes. As we dressed for church, I wrongly thought he had pants that fit! Somehow overnight, he outgrew two other pairs of pants he tried on before he managed to squeeze into the pair he wore. I am not exaggerating when I tell you he has eight, EIGHT, pairs of pants in his closet he has either outgrown or worn holes through since November.

The kids were more excited about the Easter egg hunt than the few gifts in their baskets. The baskets and eggs provided days of entertainment.

• More on this later because it deserves a blog post all in itself, and you’re champs if you’ve stuck with me this long. But this is a clue as to what was our huge Easter surprise blessing!

• My MOPS mentor mom has been a joy to get to know this year. She had our table out to her amazing log cabin home the Monday after Easter for a sip and see. The kids had another Easter egg hunt and Brennan surprised me with a huge handful of bluebonnets he pulled for me, roots and all.

Tree buds. Good buds. We love the Hoyts.

Not exactly what I was going for, but I’ll take them however they come <grin>.