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We are a family of 10, who love God and each other with all our hearts!


Tuesday, September 16, 2014


Fifteen years ago today I became a boy mom.  I had been a girl mom for 5 years, and if you are a mom of both you might understand just what that meant to my family.  A home of pink and yellow and light teal added bold blues and vibrant reds.  A home of baby dolls and strollers added toy guns and army men.  And more importantly, a home of Fisher Price Doll House Families added Thomas the Tank Engines and Legos.  Oh my word the Legos - who knew?

So he came and he brought adventure.  He had frustrations rather than tears.  He showed us sling shots and super heroes, and he played with everyone.  He was the dad in every baby doll scenario and the husband for every dream wedding.  He was a pastor, a lawyer, bad guy or good.  He was Pa for the Little House stories, and the Lone Ranger on a broom stick horse.

 He introduced us to scouting and merit badges; we learned how much more boys eat and how much less they pack.  He is a wonderful younger brother, but I think he is an even better older one.  For the two girls and one boy who came later, he is an incredible hero.  For them he is Captain America and Thor all roles up into one.  For hours playing Legos and letting them tear up Legos; for the days of dressing up with everyone and pretending scouts, for the forts and ball games, for slumber parties with giggly younger siblings - he is my hero as well.

Today he is taller than I, stronger than I, and certainly has more muscles than I. But when he sits in our school room, and I try to teach him English and Math and History and Science and the Word, I see he is merely a boy.  The world looks scary to me for him.  The depravity seems to be coming out like fire ants when I kick a mound.  I want to hear him at the top of the steps playing Legos; I want to watch him hiking in the woods with his little sisters and brothers.  I don't want him to go out and slay the giants.  And yet, that is my purpose - to train him, to give him a home as a refuge, but not a hiding place.  For our God has chosen us to live in "such a time as this."

The little boy I rocked and nursed and carried in a backpack is growing quickly into a man.

He will always be my baby though.

Last week we walked down the street, and he held my hand.  I will treasure that memory always. So today, as he stands on the precipice of manhood; I will hug him and savor that his younger siblings give him Legos in hopes that he would play with them again.  I will pray that he will always "call upon the Lord who is worthy to be praised and will be saved from his enemies." Psalm 18.

Happy 15th!

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