He fills the longing soul with good things. Ps. 107:9

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Photo by John-Mark Kuznietsov on Unsplash



"Cherish your visions.
Cherish your ideals.
Cherish the music that stirs in your heart, 
               the beauty that forms in your mind,
                      the loveliness that drapes your purest thoughts.

For....if you but remain true to them, 
                                  your world will at last be built."

- James Allen, As a Man Thinketh.

Vision



Photo by John-Mark Kuznietsov on Unsplash



"Cherish your visions.
Cherish your ideals.
Cherish the music that stirs in your heart, 
               the beauty that forms in your mind,
                      the loveliness that drapes your purest thoughts.

For....if you but remain true to them, 
                                  your world will at last be built."

- James Allen, As a Man Thinketh.
And so...just like that...another summer ends.

We get home from church and tumble out of the van to scatter clothes and bodies to rooms all over the house, just to end up again in the kitchen....eating frozen pizza and no-bakes and drinking hot chai tea with ice cubes.  And there are kids scattered everywhere...in diapers and underwear and pjs and church clothes, sitting on counters and climbing on stepstools and laughing and just being.  And we sit and stand and eat and listen and laugh and sing - taking turns choosing songs - from West Side Story to LaCrae to Gummy Bear to God's Property.  And the boys make up a game in the music room while the girls hang out in the kitchen and it is a slow and loud and beautifully quiet way to end a beautiful summer.

And then we settle and pray and read and brush and tuck.  And my heart knows that these are the very best times.



Summer's End

And so...just like that...another summer ends.

We get home from church and tumble out of the van to scatter clothes and bodies to rooms all over the house, just to end up again in the kitchen....eating frozen pizza and no-bakes and drinking hot chai tea with ice cubes.  And there are kids scattered everywhere...in diapers and underwear and pjs and church clothes, sitting on counters and climbing on stepstools and laughing and just being.  And we sit and stand and eat and listen and laugh and sing - taking turns choosing songs - from West Side Story to LaCrae to Gummy Bear to God's Property.  And the boys make up a game in the music room while the girls hang out in the kitchen and it is a slow and loud and beautifully quiet way to end a beautiful summer.

And then we settle and pray and read and brush and tuck.  And my heart knows that these are the very best times.




So I mentioned that my extended family went camping together.  It was wonderful.  And exhausting.  But totally worth it.

I loved moments like these:












But the STUFF!  Granted - it was a huge group of us, with 6 tents and around 18 people.  But there was a freakish amount of stuff.  Just saying.


And as peaceful as tents look....getting 4 boys to settle down and go to sleep with all the diapers and bugs and drama and anxiety and mud.  It's a thing.  Not a peaceful thing.  An 11:00pm I'm-pretty-sure-I'm-ok-if-we-never-do-this-again thing.





So now, after about 10 years and years of my little quiet pity party moments because we don't camp anymore and our kids are missing out and what awesome family experiences we could be having.  

I'm like..."Wait a second.  Maybe an air-conditioned Priceline hotel with white sheets isn't so bad. Maybe it's time to sell the camping gear.  I'm tireder than I used to be.  And we have more kids than we used to!"  

And David is all...."I'm planning a huge camping trip for next summer out west to like 45 National parks!"   

AND 
"Let's make a list of all the things we need to be shopping for."  

And I'm like...."10 days of camping sounds terrifyingly exhausting."

And he's like "It's in my blood now. I've already bought the maps." (grinning sheepishly cuz he knows all those years I've tried to get him to go camping...)

 And I'm like  "Great." 


Be careful what you wish for, girls!




Photo by Matthew Sleeper 

My Love/Hate Relationship with Camping


So I mentioned that my extended family went camping together.  It was wonderful.  And exhausting.  But totally worth it.

I loved moments like these:












But the STUFF!  Granted - it was a huge group of us, with 6 tents and around 18 people.  But there was a freakish amount of stuff.  Just saying.


And as peaceful as tents look....getting 4 boys to settle down and go to sleep with all the diapers and bugs and drama and anxiety and mud.  It's a thing.  Not a peaceful thing.  An 11:00pm I'm-pretty-sure-I'm-ok-if-we-never-do-this-again thing.





So now, after about 10 years and years of my little quiet pity party moments because we don't camp anymore and our kids are missing out and what awesome family experiences we could be having.  

I'm like..."Wait a second.  Maybe an air-conditioned Priceline hotel with white sheets isn't so bad. Maybe it's time to sell the camping gear.  I'm tireder than I used to be.  And we have more kids than we used to!"  

And David is all...."I'm planning a huge camping trip for next summer out west to like 45 National parks!"   

AND 
"Let's make a list of all the things we need to be shopping for."  

And I'm like...."10 days of camping sounds terrifyingly exhausting."

And he's like "It's in my blood now. I've already bought the maps." (grinning sheepishly cuz he knows all those years I've tried to get him to go camping...)

 And I'm like  "Great." 


Be careful what you wish for, girls!




Photo by Matthew Sleeper 




Photo by Ksenia Makagonova


I come from a family rich in educators.  Last weekend my extended (Wolf) family went camping together.  A highlight was sitting around after breakfast, sharing our teacher ideas and plans for the coming semester.  We laughed together as we looked around the table and counted the teachers.  Eight out of 10 adults present were teachers.  I hope I never forget our conversation - taking turns telling what classes we are teaching, what we are excited about, asking questions and sharing practical and philosophical ideas.  It was lovely.

Every year, when fall rolls around my teacher blood starts churning.  I itch for a new planner, and a new classroom to decorate and ALL THE NEW BOOKS!

So I cozy up to my computer and drool over continuing degree programs and I spend long hours poring over my personal planner (full of teachery stuff like laundry and dishes and appointments.) Sometimes I submit my name for more information from an institution of higher learning or two - and the subsequent year of dodging their phone calls and emails.

And every year, I look at the tuitions costs, look around at my babies, re-evaluate my season, simmer down and go back to the laundry.

But this year, I'm not so sure I can simmer down.  I've printed out two course plans, I've sheepishly entered my information into the blanks for "more info".  I have decided that I will pretend money isn't even an issue and that I'm not already balancing a full plate or two.

I do not believe that my kids are done needing me after they start kindergarten.  I do not believe that in 2 or 3 years when baby Carson starts Kindergarten that my mummying job will be over.  But I do feel like there is a bend approaching in the road.  There are rocks, too, in the road.  But the trees are blazing autumn along the sides.  And I am chomping at the bit.

There are so many ideas rumbling around in my head - ideas that combine my passion for family and parenting and training and trauma and pastoral care and counseling and neuroscience and theology and mentoring and community and the church.  And how it is all connected in the most intriguing and necessary ways.  My picture is getting clearer.

There are tears burning behind my eyes right now.  Tears of excitement and frustration and passion.  And I will settle down to reality and get back to the laundry....but I may have to take a step towards the direction my heart is tugging.  Just one class, maybe?

For now, I decided to come back to blogging.  I have things to share.  Things to figure out. Things to think.  So here we are.

Teacher Itch and the Bend in the Road




Photo by Ksenia Makagonova


I come from a family rich in educators.  Last weekend my extended (Wolf) family went camping together.  A highlight was sitting around after breakfast, sharing our teacher ideas and plans for the coming semester.  We laughed together as we looked around the table and counted the teachers.  Eight out of 10 adults present were teachers.  I hope I never forget our conversation - taking turns telling what classes we are teaching, what we are excited about, asking questions and sharing practical and philosophical ideas.  It was lovely.

Every year, when fall rolls around my teacher blood starts churning.  I itch for a new planner, and a new classroom to decorate and ALL THE NEW BOOKS!

So I cozy up to my computer and drool over continuing degree programs and I spend long hours poring over my personal planner (full of teachery stuff like laundry and dishes and appointments.) Sometimes I submit my name for more information from an institution of higher learning or two - and the subsequent year of dodging their phone calls and emails.

And every year, I look at the tuitions costs, look around at my babies, re-evaluate my season, simmer down and go back to the laundry.

But this year, I'm not so sure I can simmer down.  I've printed out two course plans, I've sheepishly entered my information into the blanks for "more info".  I have decided that I will pretend money isn't even an issue and that I'm not already balancing a full plate or two.

I do not believe that my kids are done needing me after they start kindergarten.  I do not believe that in 2 or 3 years when baby Carson starts Kindergarten that my mummying job will be over.  But I do feel like there is a bend approaching in the road.  There are rocks, too, in the road.  But the trees are blazing autumn along the sides.  And I am chomping at the bit.

There are so many ideas rumbling around in my head - ideas that combine my passion for family and parenting and training and trauma and pastoral care and counseling and neuroscience and theology and mentoring and community and the church.  And how it is all connected in the most intriguing and necessary ways.  My picture is getting clearer.

There are tears burning behind my eyes right now.  Tears of excitement and frustration and passion.  And I will settle down to reality and get back to the laundry....but I may have to take a step towards the direction my heart is tugging.  Just one class, maybe?

For now, I decided to come back to blogging.  I have things to share.  Things to figure out. Things to think.  So here we are.
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