all things are His

Matt's been gone almost a week now and the Lord is always good to hang out with me extra when he's away. Monday morning the seven kids and I hiked a few miles from a nature park to the science museum and back, and calling it "Funday-Monday" and offering a cherry limeade from Sonic for anyone who didn't complain...worked. I don't know how, but it did.  Ben told me 97 times on the walk that he wasn't "emplaining!" and he wasn't, and it was the best $10 I've ever spent on slushies!  I love hiking more than just about anything else, I was thankful I sucked up the initial groans and eyerolls and forced the torture of finding frogs and snakes and deer and fish, tromping through the woods together, and even making my baby carry my baby!  

We finally got Nora's ears pierced. A friend brought us pizza one night AND stayed and ate it with us. We had breakfast club with the neighbor kiddos. We've been to the pool and another friend came and swam with us (two more eyes on seven swimming is a good deal). Lily's had tennis camp, Sofie and A have been to VBS, Nora's at a pecan farm now and H, Ben, Nora, Emma and I did some uniform shopping for the fall this morning. 

Our small group had breakfast for dinner (AND broke our small group record with 48 people, which I'm pretty sure has moved us to "house-church of a church-church" category). I cherish these sweet, crazy evenings of eating together, catching up on life, coming alongside one another, studying His Word together, sharing testimonies, and praying together and providing accountability and follow-up throughout the week. You'd never find a more eclectic group of pasts, presents and futures, but we really do break bread together with glad and sincere hearts, and I have learned so so much from the young, old, married, single, divorced, widowed, pregnant, ex-cons, homeschool mamas, working mamas, ex-junkies, marine biologists, doctors, decorators, artists and civil engineers of this group of brothers and sisters, the body of Christ, broken for you. 

On Sofie's birthday, Emma took her first steps, and couldn't have been more thrilled with herself. I also received a priceless letter this week from an old friend who is (was?) a hospice counsellor, and her advice for grieving the loss of a father on Father's Day and on working your way through losing your dad...man, it was sweet, straight, and needed.  Having some help on paper, printed off for many over oodles of years, reminds me that we are not alone...none of us, not in ANY of our heart-aches or circumstances. It's not unique, the loss, the pain, and if nothing else, He is in it and close...clos-ER, perhaps, in our muddled pain we can only lift up, not sort through. 

In the meantime, while I wait for the comfort and help of Matt coming home, wait to be holding the warm and calloused hands of our dear ones in Haiti, wait to walk again with my dad and my mom...there two girls excited about tan lines who are listening even when I doubt it.  There are two more excited about yet another horse-themed birthday party, a girlie who can't stop twisting her earrings and whistling through the hole in her smile. There's a little man who experiences every moment SO intensely that every day is the best day of his life, a chubby, sticky baby who lights up just because I talk to her. There are kiddos fervently listing out their prayers in the morning, falling into their safe beds over prayers at night, and I rejoice to think that all the things are His, and I can leave them there.