Thursday, February 13, 2014

Little Child

*Sentimental post ALERT.  

I am that mom who is a nostalgic dreamer.  I wrote poems about my kids before they were born.  (I know, I know).

I bought a Halloween outfit for our firstborn when I was just a few months pregnant-- before I even knew the gender.  It was an awful duck costume.  I don't know what I was thinking.

I would sit in my children's nurseries before they were born and rock in their rockers and dream and pray.

I would lightly brush my fingers through all their new clothing, hanging neatly in their closets.  Adjust placements of their stuffed animals and blankets...and dream about the baby that was get the idea.  

My creative side wants to be a crafty girl, but my OCD perfectionist side takes over.  And I end up spending 5 million hours trying to cut out the perfect snowflakes to hang throughout the house like Buddy the Elf, while my children have lost interest.  

I don't do a whole lot of crafty Pinterest stuff.  But, I can hot glue. 

I just hot glued 3 dioramas last week for book reports.

I also hot glued Genesis through Numbers back into my man's bible, after one of our kids accidentally knocked it out of the SUV Sunday morning, pages splattering onto the asphalt. 

Sometimes I get a wild hair and paint canvases for a week or so and then I'm done.

I can look up party planning ideas or, better yet, Pinterest tattoo ideas.

I can follow directions (if I must) on recipes.  But, I really hate cooking. 

I love shopping and writing words.  So I have written a poem or two.

Details, smetails.  

Here's the deal, about 15 years ago- before having children-- I wrote a poem as I dreamed about what our children would be like.   I really liked the poem and other people {maybe just humoring me???} have said they liked the poem too.

For me, more than anything else, it represents a precious reminder that my God is sovereign.  Just like I can't count the hairs on my head, I couldn't pick my kids or their personalities or what they would look like.  But, He sweetly gave me some of the things I dreamed about.   

And you know what?  He gave me even more than I could dream or imagine.  
Although we were just a respite foster family for a little over a year, we still considered each and every child a part of our family for the short time they were in our home. 

Not only did he give us 12 more children than we could have imagined, but He also gave us more sweet gifts and mercies than we could have ever dreamed-- through our experiences with the Father as we loved these little ones.   

I'm a put-God-in-a-box kind of girl and He always blows me away, you know?

When dreaming about our future children, my brain was only thinking of children that I assumed would come from my womb.   

Yet, he has graciously given us 12 additional children to love and pray over-- although many we will never see again.

I would have never guessed we would have children of all different races and ethnic backgrounds become a part of our family.  

 Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father 
of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. (James 1:17)


Little Child


Will you have eyes of cornflower blue 

set wide apart above a button nose 

lightly sprinkled with cinnamon-colored freckles? 

Or will you have eyes of dark hershey 

almond-shaped and questioning 

above a slender nose 

and crescent shaped lips? 
Will you enjoy running barefoot 

through neighborhoods and deep dark woods 

climbing trees and catching frogs? 

Will you have a love for writing words 

and reading Huck Finn, Aslan and Puck? 

Will your laughter roll like waves 

across my soul 

and your smile stretch across my life 

capturing my heart forever? 

Whatever your face, whatever your name 

you already have my heart and soul 

wrapped around your little finger 

forever...little child.

Ironically, my 3 big kids climb a particular tree in our front yard (barefoot) on a regular basis.  My daughter has had an ER trip from falling from this same tree.  

Three of them love to create and write stories.   One, in particular, loves reading as much as I do.

One loves to sing.  You can hear her here (at the bottom of the post).

I love the creative, free spirits the Lord has given them, along with the eyes of cornflower blue, dark hershey, and cinnamon-sprinkled freckles.  And I adore that my Father has given me so many different personalities and faces to love.  He is indeed good!

Ok, so my kids don't dress like this normally--it was Pioneer Day at co-op.  Just thought it was a funny picture because of  the reference to Huck Finn in the poem. (normally they are shirtless and barefoot climbing trees!)

 My favorite part about this picture?  All the dirt on my Princess's face-- she's tough.  
She's got 2 big brothers.

 My blue-eyed monkeys

 Definitely dark hershey eyes and slender nose

Our new Little Bitty has dark brown eyes like me and my oldest

 Never could've dreamed of getting to fix all this curly hair.  It's gorgeous and takes some 
serious studying about hair products.  Chocolate Hair for Vanilla Care anyone?  Life. Saver.

 Dynamic Duo

 This is about the same time period when he was terrified of dogs, cats, squirrels, 
and all farm animals.  But worms were friendly.

Will you enjoy eating fresh basil that I attempt to grow?  Why, of course you will.

I'm noticing a recurring theme here-- my children's faces were always filthy.  I kept them alive, ok?

Yep, he's as tough as he looks.  No, I mean it-- really, he is.  But tender hearted.


A friendly embrace.  No fear or malice here.  Why was I taking pictures at this point?

3-mile hike we survived.

Love this one-- sister running to catch up with her brothers.  A moment captured.  
Told you I'm a sap.  

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