freedom's song

The night's dark still remains, and I am up early over here on Ridgegate... expectations, a busy mind, and a hacking cough have bid me to rise early.  I am excited about today.  Today leads us into the new.  Our family has already started singing our new song... we are singing it loud, and we are dancing too.

About a year ago I started a tradition with our smalls.  We have dance parties.  They have become staples around here.  It was birthed out of wanting to remind my oldest princess not to take herself to seriously... it was a good lesson for her momma as well.  It's important when leading learners into the new to participate alongside.  They are now a staple in this House of Hope.  Our hearts love to play and dance to the tune of music.

Music has a way of setting the soul free and bringing life.  I believe great truth exists in the verse that states our Good Daddy inhabits the praises of His people... in those spaces life is full.  We offer praises a lot around her because it brings joy to do so... and fresh life is awakened as we dance.

As the music starts the older princesses squeal wild and nearly choke each other with excitement.  I giggle and then suggest they let loose... of each other and themselves.  Sometimes we need reminders.  I too have family doing this for me.

The oldest princess... above is really learning how to be free.  She is still tempted by the hide, but she is seeking freedom, and it is being found.

A year ago young prince started out timid... but he is timid no more.  He has moves and wants to share. 

White boy-prince loves to breakdance.  He is full of giggles... he peeks to make sure I see him living and dancing.

His little body and expressions are so inviting...

Charli has become the new star of our dance parties.  The girls often celebrate her offerings... whether we are in the car listening or at home dancing... the youngest is learning, and she brings freely.  She has music-alive in her soul.

The girls love teaching Charli to dance... so does her momma...

The youngest claps... she loves to be held... she loves music, and she loves love...  she teaches as well.

There's something almost magical about music... it brings out the child in us, and its tune releases strength in us... it sets the contained-wild free...

Freedom... music brings freedom if we let it... freedom is what my heart longs for... As we enter into the new song of 2012, I pray FREEDOM over me... over my family... over the body.  And what started out as a tool to help empower a young princess teaches the broken momma too.  My wild is still growing, and so I continue to seek freedom's song... His song of love over me and in me.  Our family is claiming 2012 to be a year of restoration, healing, abundant harvests, supernatural encounters, Spirit-alive, JOY, laughter, play, growth, dancing and FREEDOM... 

With his signature move our young-pastor prince is leading the way...

We see, we accept, We HOPE,  we ask for all these things, and we dance... 

Inviting you to join in and bring the song The Father is singing loudly in your heart for this 2012!

you may want to skip this one... but I pray you don't

Life is moving.  The pace leaves me breathless.  The pictures of the smalls turning big breaks me.  I love my life.  These past couple of years have nearly killed me... nearly.  Instead, I am stronger.  In my weakness He is making me strong.  The years have been hard, but they have been rich.  Each has been blessed in its own way.

Yesterday and today have been a deeper day for remembering the two smalls that I don't get to tend to.  I am thankful that God doesn't just call me to remember... He also whispers to the hearts of the small.

Last night during worship Shorty again crowned her momma, and then she did a new thing.  I shouldn't be surprised by her act for she serves a God that is always stirring and always creating new things.  A God that takes the shattered and makes something wholly beautiful.  Anyway, what she did caused Pastor and I to share a knowing look.  She covered me in Tuckers blanket.

It was if she was saying, "They are worshipping as we worship, they are not as far as they feel."  Even now I swallow hard just thinking about how our loss affects the smalls in our home.   It's not just the parents that grieve hard.  I was blessed by the loving reminder.  It brings my heart great joy that both my girls still sleep with Lincoln and Tucker's blankets... they have since we shared our broken news.  Last night Shorty suggested I sleep with Tuck's so I did.  Crazy how coverings bring comfort.

This morning our young prince reminded as well.  It's important for me to share that Bud was not a part of our worship time last night.  He wasn't present as Shorty shared.  But, he is a remembering one.  And, though he was only two when his brothers died he talks about them regularly.  Sometimes I think he sees things I cannot.  He calls his brothers, "my boys."  My heart aches to see them play together this side of heaven... for Bud to be the loving older brother.  He would so enjoy other little fellas around the house.  This morning his heart was remembering again.  He ran into the kitchen to show me the art he had just created.

I must be honest.  So many people talk to me all day long that most moments I am only half listening to everyone... even my Pastor.  Well, this little prince was so excited I decided to pause.  He almost shouted, "Momma look... look what I did... I did orange, red, and blue... one for me, Lincoln, and Tucker."  Again, I pause.  I can't decide if I am filled with delight, or I have just been kicked in the stomach... both, I think.  But, Bud's joy is so pure that it spills out on me, and it fills my heart.

He is a prince unaware... yet aware of so many things I am not.  He scampers off giggling, and I have a smile on my face.

Reminders of the boys come less often, but they still come.  They are a part of this family.  Their very lives have shaped me into the momma I am today.  They are the reason for my intense hunger.  I owe them so much.  I will fight for them to be remembered.

Every story has value.  No matter how long or how short the story is.  

Above is Prince Warrior Lincoln

And this is Prince Warrior Tucker... Baby Tuck as the smalls call him.

I know these images are hard to view.  They aren't for the faint of heart.  I am sincere when I share I almost passed out and vomited from grief as I looked at them again.  These are my sons.  It would do my heart good to gaze on their broken beauty everyday as I remember the truth... the truth that has forever marked my own story.

They have been made whole... they are...

Healed... ahhh... I long for this myself... for my family... for the body... for the world.

As I journey through my brokenness on the pathway to my own healing I remember a very important call.  The hard invitation to always go back to the hurt... the ache-filled spaces... the stories that have undone me.  A call that says... do not hide from the deep and the dark...  always process...  always remember.  Too often I want to run.  I LONG to forget.  But, I recall in my spirit... truth.   Truth that bestows honor to God and honor to my warrior sons... it is out of death that my beauty flows.  

May I have courage to look into the eyes of Love... may I have strength to look at these pictures often and continue the fight to remember.  Would we all be a people willing to rest in the wrestling.  Would we all accept the death that brings new life.  Praying you would see this as an invitation to search your own hearts and stories and remember.

With abundant tears today,

Pastor's Wife

in love

The day is alive with beauty.  The sun is shining so brightly as I type these words... oh the sunlight makes me want to dance... by the heater of course.  Anything below 70 degrees is too cold for my blood.  Our hearts are thankful today as the doctor shared that our young prince has significant fluid in both of his ears and hoped it could be remedied through medication.  I can't tell you how I thankful I am.  Such good news.

Pastor has been celebrating some other good news lately.  He has been given a desire of his heart...  the affection of his youngest princess.  Good Pastor would tell you himself that he has not been favored by Charli most of her life.  I think he has turned a corner in her heart.  "Panda," as Pastor has called her since birth is falling in love with her Papa.

It is a sweet sight to see a young one love their daddy well, but it is even richer seeing the delight it brings the papa.  His joy is full as she generously gives her affection... no force involved... no nudging... just a small life offering all of her heart to her papa.  It seems she can't get enough of him these days... she wants his affection all the time.

Charli paints a picture of my own heart... a little girl seeing the greatness of her Papa... longing.  I long for His affection... His presence... His power in me.  I long for Him in a way that transforms me to reflect Him.

He unreservedly offers Himself to me...

As He holds me I take hold of Him...

Sometimes I am a little unsure... can this be real?  Could I really have the affection of the King?

It seems so confusing to have access to a love I did not earn.  But as I rest in His covering... as I am clothed with Him I am changed.  I am still fully me... just a me more in love... and dressed in His delight.

I must remember I cannot rig myself to look like my Papa...

my striving to clothe myself does not reflect Him...  

His desire for my little life... is that I would rest and receive... He hears my heart and sees my affection.

And, just like Pastor does with Charli... He meets her where she is... so thankful for her desire, and he puts His mark on her... a mark of love.

I can hardly believe that He has been longing for this day since my birth... waiting patiently for me to desire Him in this way.  I am praying that I will remember to be like Charli today... a little princess resting... a little life pouring out her affection to her Papa and a daughter of desire expectant that her deepest desires will be met and marked like a crown upon her head.  

hear and rest

Prince Elliott.  He is lovely.  I have said it before and I will say it again... he has my heart.

This morning my young prince is at the doctor's with Pastor.  He has been struggling to hear lately.  It has progressively gotten worse so we decided it was time to have it checked out.

I don't mind telling you that I have had a stirring in my heart in regards to his hearing.  I am a momma aware that there is a battle over his story just like my very own.  It has been hard seeing him wrestle to hear.

I sense this is how the Father feels about his princesses and princes.  He loves us so much... wants the best for us... dreams big dreams for us... and often we walk around...we surround ourselves with so much noise that we can't hear.

So many obstacles.  So many messes...

some we make for ourselves... some are smeared on by others...

Messes make it harder to see...

I don't want limited hearing or vision for me or my family.  I don't want circumstances to dictate.  How do I do this when I am afraid?  I am a warrior... but I still struggle with fear.  Longing for truth to always have victory... perfect love always casts out FEAR... ALL FEAR. 

I have the invitation to be a woman at rest.  It is a wonderful invitation... will I choose to accept or will I let the world drown it out?

Will I put into practice what I am learning?  When things get tricky... will I remember?  When I am living the day to days and I struggle to hear...  will I operate out of the perfect love given? 

The love that flows abundantly from Daddy to daughter.

I am learning.  It is slow, but growth is taking place.  I still choose fear, but I am finding that I choose it less.

Pressing in deeper to the truths of The Perfect Daddy.... the one that keeps me like the apple of His eye and hides me in the shadow of His wings.

So thankful His reminders are everywhere.... in our home... in my heart... my love for my prince... it speaks... and when my ears aren't working... may I listen with my heart.

  

post-Christmas melancholy

GP here today.

Snatching a few minutes away from "life."  My two bigs have been bickering and struggling all day.  It began last night when the two of them butted heads like never before.  So frustrating and disappointing to see.

Their struggling makes me struggle.  Well, I guess the truth is what my friend, Rick, once taught me.  "Circumstances don't cause you to sin.  They reveal the sin that's already within you."  Ouch.

Feeling sad.   Lots of sadness and struggle with a set of my grandparents.  A grandparent passed away on Friday, and his spouse was admitted to the ER and hospital on Monday.

Feeling either sad or frustrated that Christmas is over.  Maybe both.

Bud's doctor's appointment is tomorrow.  A little anxious about that.

Feeling tired.  Wanting to sleep.  Wanting to eat.  Then eat some more.

Feeling old.  Let my chin hair grow out a bit.  Unfortunately it's about 90 % gray.

How'd I get so old?  Shouldn't I be much more mature?  More wise?  More competent?  Where'd the time go?  Strangely, why do the days still seem so long some times?

Wanting to be like Bud in this picture... turning whatever I find into something fun and playful.

Bud walked into the playroom one night around worship time with this combination of randomness.  I loved it.

On a positive note... celebrating my little Charli.  She has learned how to give real hugs and kisses.  What could be better than that?  As for now she's quite generous with her sweet affections too!

Overall, I seem to lose perspective of truth and gratitude quite quickly.  Praying for the day when it's the other way around... when it'll be very unusual for me lose perspective of who He is, who I am, how much I "get to" do... that He is with us... still clinging to Emmanuel.

Christmas came early...

Christmas came early this year... for Pastor's wife anyways.  It was an unexpected gift... the best ones always are.  It was a bestowed gift, and it has been given more than once.  Better than a massage, a pedicure... even better than a gift card.  I was blessed by a princess.

It excites my heart to think about royalty... extreme beauty... choosing to bless... I never would've have dreamed that I would be the receiving one.

Our family has had the rich honor of celebrating advent with the giving of our affection to the KING.

The last several times we have entered into the holy, Princess Eloise has done something that literally blessed me and left me speechless.  If you know me... that is saying a lot... I am a woman of many words.  Anyway, as I would begin our time she quietly got a crown.. this crown... her crown... without speaking or drawing any attention to herself she would place this crown upon my brow and then return to her offerings.

Does she know what this speaks to my raw heart?  Does she get the magnitude of this gesture?  A sister-daughter choosing to proclaim beauty over another woman... her very momma?  This child that has seen more dirt and filth flow from my flesh... this child that I have shared many tears and "I'm sorry's" with...  she calls me princess as I sing...

And it takes the Spirit's work to help me strum on...

It takes an act of God to help this princess extol.  For I have been touched in the depths and though my voice cracks with awe... my soul does sing... oh how it sings.

My Eloise has a deep gift of love, and she offers.  I, her momma, soak in every drop.  How does she see like this?  How does she know that I have been re-named with a royal name... one that is full of song?  Her mind doesn't, but her Spirit man does... she listens... she obeys... and she blesses.

This naked, growing woman, being clothed in His righteousness sees the truth in her name.  I am Princess Beautiful Song.  I am not beautiful because of my appearance.  I am beautiful because of the Beauty indwelling, and so I see and I sing.  I offer back the name-gift given.  I do so humbly... with passion... with intense joy.

In my story God has used teaching friends to speak beauty into me.  To help in laboring and birthing my new name.  I still lean on them to help me live out the royal to which I have been called.  Even in these last days as my very own princess heard the invitation and carried confirmation of my name... she gave my eyes new vision... me... in a crown of jewels singing to my KING.

Yes... Christmas came early and is still very present over here on Ridgegate... very present...  and we invite HIS Spirit to linger... to stay.

Joy was also in abundance yesterday... thought this picture could express more than my fumbling heart...

Praying that we... the body... would impart beauty, share visions that bless, esteem the other, speak costly truths, listen to the Spirit... obey... steep in the word... and remind each other of their royalty... would this be especially true among God's beloved daughters today.

Amen.

a day of HOPE

Everyday... but especially this day out of every year is a day to remember hope.

I had some time to process what this day would've been like for precious Mary as she made way for the King through her very own flesh.  How she must've felt such relief after the journey of travel and pregnancy itself.  No doubt just hours before she was consumed with such pain she was about to reach her limit.  Now... the life of pregnancy has ended, and death has occurred... the death of that season.  Pregnancy is over.  Death for this precious Son is imminent.  I say this not to be morbid but instead to stir HOPE.  For, I have learned that new life is birthed out of the death of something else.  It is the very circle of life.

Pastor and I have been processing our own last birth story these past few days.  Tears have poured as we have shared hearts and touches.  Remembering the cost of Lincoln, Tucker and Charli's story today.  I am sure at times any who read this blog might grow tired of the written HOPE, But HOPE is the main life-gift given out of the death of our boys.  It is all that remains of them.  So like any momma I press on to take care of... protect... and grow that which was birthed.  It is a calling.  One I accept with joy and pain.

Wow... so not intending for this to be a dark entry... but as I process Mary and her story I process my own.  I think about her as a person and not as a character.  I think about what this day meant for her... for her heart.  So much relief from the physical but confident a new pain began the moment Jesus left her and entered into His new name, Emmanuel.

Emmanuel... what a costly name.  Christ choosing to come be with us.  To be near...  to be humbled...  to hurt... to ache... to suffer... to be HOPE's ultimate seed.  For Mary, giving life to Jesus was a cycle of life and death.  For she knew out of pain would come joy... and then more pain than she could imagine... and then ultimate joy.  Such HOPE for the young princess... mother of Emmanuel.  I would rather like to meet her... share tears... share HOPE.

Pastor and I would like to thank all of you for walking this road of FAITH with us.  It's a rocky trail but we try to keep our eyes fixed over here on Ridgegate.  We have  been relying on many of you to help restore focus when we stumble.  Thank you for being vision castors and hand-holders to our family.  We have needed the body, and you have come alongside offering HOPE to the weary.

For if you are connected to us at all you know this year....

has been full of the tricky and awkward... trusting God in new ways is a humbling process.

The smalls in this home have been vessels of much supernatural activity...

The smallest monkey... in her strong will has taught  me more about crying out to God that anything else in my life.  To her I owe jars filled with tears... and a much larger view of Emmanuel.

The Story-teller is busy at work crafting masterpieces out of the bigger-smalls.  Their hearts have been greatly affected by the birth/death cycle, and they have offered tender HOPE in ways that have forever marked this momma.

Oh... Pastor... He is changing.  He has been given his new name, and he is learning to live out of it.  The HOPE-reminder came last night as he struggled with flesh that he is not Good Pastor because of his behavior... he is simply good because of CHRIST IN HIM.  The end.

Oh... as I look at this picture I see the gifts of HOPE... love runs deep over here... so deep.  I am blessed to have such a handsome, loving prince by my side to walk through these life cycles.

Speaking of Princes... the richest gift this year happened only weeks ago...

Elliott was ushered in to the Holy.  He is marked for the Kingdom.  We are filled with JOY.  JOY abounds.  We are also aware that he is also now marked for attack... and we sense this has already begun.  Much gifting is already present in this little package.  He will have to exercise his little prince arms for he will need much strength and heart to carry HOPE's seed.

Princess Lu has discovered her own supernatural gifting...

She uses her gift of dancing feet to bless as we worship.  It takes a momma's breath away to see her princess dancing with the angels for the King... blessed... so blessed that I get to see it happen this side of heaven.

Princess Shorty has received a gifting of passion as well...

This beauty has the gift of intercession and a heart for faith healing. She is talking to God through her tears and expecting miracles.  She rubs off on me, and we share anointing through the blood.

Charli...  What can I say?

At her tender age she leads to the throne room.  No doubt in my mind or spirit, God has more miracles in store for this princess and those she dwells with.  Certain they will continue to have great cost.  So thankful for her life and warrior spirit... even if it makes me a momma-undone.  After all, an undone momma get's to be re-sculptured for the kingdom... and new beauty is formed.

I never want to deceive...

This momma is not perfect... nor are her smalls.  Life on Ridgegate is not always rosy.  We are in process.  Always somewhere on the death/life cycle clinging to the HOPE we profess.

Praying you have seen as you have Eavesdropped... the only thing that matters....

He who promised is ALWAYS FAITHFUL!

Emmanuel... The Promising One.... with us... TODAY and EVERYDAY... spreading HOPE'S seed.

Merry Christmas...
Happy Birthday, Jesus... thank you for your gift... thank you...
Happy Day of birth to you, Mary... thankful for your story of faithfulness... thankful for how your story brings healing to mine as I celebrate the life that was born out of the loss of your son.

May you sense the very PRESENCE OF EMMANUEL'S GIFT... even as you read this.

Christ is with us... sacred.

A Strange Eve

Well, not so strange in terms of the quantity of food I've eaten in the last few days.  Truly, like I'm living a marathon running of "Man vs. Food" episodes.  Speaking of...

No, this is not a gag.  It's a real candy bar.  A very special gift.  No, it was not directly from God, but indirectly it was.

Yes, this is after eating the first 1/2 lb. piece. 

You may ask, "Where is your self control?"  Well, if you know me, the fact that I stopped after 1 piece  (1/2 lb). of it is self control!

GP here tonight.  Although the food isn't unusual, as a whole the day has been a very strange Christmas Eve for me.  All started with a rough night.  Still so tired from a full week and a late arrival on Thursday night (technically it was Friday morning).  Anyways, tried to get some sleep last night.  Didn't work out exactly as planned.  One small fell out of his bed onto the hardwood floor in the middle of the night.  I jumped out of bed so quickly when I heard the loud thump followed by  intense crying... well, I responded so quickly that I was extremely dizzy and disoriented when I ran into Bud's room... so much so that I wasn't much good to him.  I was just trying not to pass out.

Shortly later another small needed her Pop.  Man, again, not what I had planned.  Still glad I was able to be there for them in those moments.  Body just struggling.  Tired... and a few strange and extreme pains.  Not sure what's going on.  Not expecting it to last though.

Enjoyed some sweet Christmas celebrations last night and then again this morning.  Glad to be with family.

Noticing I'm a little more grumpy than I should be about Christmas gift stuff though.  The need to assemble, to download / sync / set-up, to return... all of these "needs" seem to be urgent according to requests of my little monkey heads... somehow all of these seem to reveal the grumpies already within me.  They don't cause the sin... they just expose it.

On top of being grumpy... at the same time my heart is grieving and celebrating at the loss of a good man.  My stepdad's father passed away yesterday morning.  "Stepdad" just doesn't communicate it well.  There are no negative connotations to the word when I use it personally.  My mom's husband is a special man, and he's deeply loved by my family and I.  His father passed away.  We're celebrating that his father is no longer experiencing any pain.  As the pastor put it... he's been given the greatest Christmas gift ever.  He's in the presence of the Lord.  The grief just comes as my heart carries sadness of loved ones being separated.  This is a heavy load for my dear ones.

Kel described me as distant this afternoon.  Couldn't disagree.  On top of grumpy and sad... was being distant, which is really a kinder way of saying, "disengaged."  Man, that's a painful word for me to wear.  Don't like the feeling of that label.  It hurts.  It was true though.

Noticing my mind is all over the place.  Deeply worried about my son's hearing.  He's experiencing some very obvious limitations in his hearing abilities.  Hoping it's temporary. Very concerned... normally I'm not much of a worry-wart.  Still growing in my awareness of how I project onto Elliott the concern / worry of 3 boys.  As if he still represents his two brothers that died nearly 21 months ago.  It's like he's 3 people to my heart.  Wondering if I'll always do this.  Wondering how long my heart will grieve over Lincoln and Tucker.

My mind's all over the place.  Worrying about other things as well.  Need to remember my new mantra, "Do the best I can with what I've been given." Wanting to do my best... even after I'm feeling a little defeated from a failure.

Even after I realized what was going on in me... I lost it.  Anger out of this world with Shorty.  Won't even mention the offense.  It was too trivial to share.  At most she deserved a semi-frustrated, "Dad look" without words.  I wish that was what I had given.  The anger was ridiculous.  Shameful of me.  Yet felt fully justified in the moment.  That's the extra scary part.

Much wrestling on Ridgegate today.  No luchador mask needed.  It is a House of Hope, but seems the hope is so strong because the neediness is so great.

Not what Christmas Eve should be about.  As I prayed with Emmiline and Eloise tonight I just felt really grateful for a God who offers such forgiveness... such love... for a Father that does not fail.