Lightening Bugs and Moving Boxes.

Last night the lightening bugs were out in full force in my back yard swallowing me in memories of my childhood. Little me would chase them around in the hopes of putting them in a jar beside my bed so I could watch them as I fell asleep.

As I walked back into the house, smiling at my memories, I was struck by how fast this new place has become home. Oh, I am still unpacking boxes -- our painters are still working in the upstairs and so not only are boxes waiting to be sorted, I have had to undo the bulk of what I had already done. (If you read that with a tad bit of frustration, you read it perfectly! ;) ) But the downstairs is almost exactly like I want it and that is where we live. We have established our dinner routine -- everyone has their spot at the table. We have figured out our favorite cozy spots for watching TV as a family at night. And I have even started cooking in the kitchen and can do so almost exclusively without having to search for things!

Deep deep sigh.

Breakfast nook -- with a barn door my Grandaddy built.

It's amazing that the movers just pulled away from our curb four weeks ago today. (Except the truck that has all our outdoor furniture which is just sitting somewhere NOT making it to me....but that is a completely different story.)

Our keeping room!

In those last weeks before leaving our Mississippi home, I would wander through the house turning off lights and locking doors before heading to bed every night. Even though we have moved several times in our marriage, and even though I have had to make more than a couple houses feel like home, I worried during those evening walk-throughs that this time would be different. I was worried that leaving Mississippi might break me this time -- a bit less young than I was when I left her in 1991.

But here's the thing, and it is not just a cliche, home is what pulls us, draws us, comforts us. And home...well home is where my people are. Period.

I am in love with the blue on my dining room walls.

The last year living with Wade in one state and me in another was lonely and hard and just really awful. And yet, it probably prepared us to make the move because as hard as leaving friends, proximity to my Mama, and all the known was....everything is better when we are together.

Just to keep it real -- we have no bedroom furniture and...
I am using a moving box as a bedside table. Design at its best! :)

And so, even if I haven't found people to gather here yet -- I am breathing deeply and thanking God for an ability to acclimate, to flex, to hammer the nails and hang the pictures, to take whatever walls we have and make them our home.

One teacher can change the world.

My triplets will graduate from high school one week from today. One week. And though as I sit here, I KNOW that they have successfully completed their work for high school; and I KNOW they have scored high enough on the SAT to not only gain college entrance but to also receive scholarship, there was a season when not only did I not KNOW if these things were possible, I was almost afraid to even dream them.

And then I met Cindy Ramsdell, a second grade teacher at Aldridge Elementary School in Texas.

Outside Aldridge Elementary School -- Mason, Benjamin and Claire

We moved to the area just in time for the triplets to begin second grade at Aldridge. I didn't know anything about the school, the teachers or even the area when we pulled into that parking lot on the first day, but Mrs. Ramsdell's smile alone assured me she was going to be a good fit for my Benjamin.

Mrs. Ramsdell spent less than a week with my son before she asked to speak with me. "Benjamin gets along very well with adults," she said as I nodded in agreement. "I want to see him interact more often with his peers this year."

I was in agreement but frankly had my doubts she could pull it off. The nature of Benjamin's disability required a swarm of adult caregivers circling him in those days -- a paraprofessional who scribed his work; a physical therapist who pulled him out at least once a week for therapy; an occupational therapist who did the same; a special PE instructor who worked with him during PE time....and so on. How in the world was she going to implement her goals for Benjamin?

I should not have wondered. Her smile and diminutive size did not speak to the ferocity of this teacher. Mrs. Ramsdell started by rearranging her classroom so that Benjamin was surrounded by his peers -- not sitting in a corner at a special desk. She brought in the maintenance staff to adapt his desk so that the re-aarangement still worked for him.

Then she did this extraordinary out-of-the-box thing -- she kicked all of the adult helpers out of her classroom. Kicked them out. It was a bold move to be sure. One that might very well only have worked for second grade -- but work it did! If her students finished their work early, they were rewarded by getting to be Benjamin's secretary. Please don't miss that. She rewarded her hardest working students by allowing them to scribe for my son who could not write for himself. Within two weeks, Benjamin was being invited for playdates at the homes of these new friends, friends that 10 years and two states away, he still connects with regularly!

I could write for days about the ways Cindy Ramsdell changed her classroom to accommodate my son -- she brought in a computer just for him, she changed the timing of his favorite subjects so that he would not miss them during the required Physical and Occupational therapy time each week. She went over and beyond so that Benjamin would understand the value she placed on him as part of her class.

And though I was far beyond second grade in my schooling, this teacher taught me so much. She valued my son. She saw enormous potential that though challenged by his physical struggles was NOT squelched by them. She taught me to not only dream big things for Benjamin but to EXPECT them! She showed me that I was not alone he thinking he was smart. She confirmed that he was smart, really smart and taught me how to help him get his ideas onto paper. She changed our expectations for our incredible boy.

Playing soccer with his friends in Texas.

Today, Mrs. Ramsdell sent Benjamin a beautiful graduation card. He shared it with me -- and I read how she knew how extraordinary he was within days of his rolling into her classroom. She encouraged his dreams and  once again spurred him to aim high.

With tears rolling down my face, I once again -- for probably the millionth time in 10 years -- gave thanks for the life of this second grade teacher. I gave thanks for this woman who has dedicated her life to bettering the lives of not just my son, but of hundreds of young people who are no doubt better for having had this teacher believe in them and push them toward their dreams.

Thank you, Mrs. Ramsdell, for believing, for encouraging, for being a teacher setting the bar high for teachers everywhere! We are grateful that you remain in Benjamin's cheering section! He is going to keep us on our feet cheering wildly -- thanks to you we know THAT!!

Because I am having all the thoughts.

The movers are at my house. My home once-filled with all my favorite things is currently in a state of complete chaos with most essentials already loaded on the big truck sitting in my cul-de-sac. I feel a bit out of sorts. Sigh.

Unrelated picture of Pluto...for not other reason than he calms our nerves!

But my brain is swarming with thoughts, dreams, hopes, fears, anxieties, philosophies. You know, the stuff that crazed, over-tired brains swarm with.

In no particular order:

1. The baseboards in our empty bedrooms tell a story about the life of the room-dwellers. I am cleaning and vacuuming and yet, wanting to savor the stories. The movers had no sooner removed Benjamin's bed for instance, before I knew immediately where all the rubber bands had disappeared to every single night during his orthodontia years!

The baseboard behind Cate's adorable window seat shares her love of glitter, rainbow loom and even some softball equipment!

I found feathers from theater costumes behind Mason's; and card stock and craft supplies behind Claire's. 

The cleaning in the midst of the crazy has offered a little reminder to take things slow and savor the LIFE moments with my four. Because, as corny as it sounds, those years are vacuumed up in a heartbeat.

Mid-Tournament Game -- this happy face means she made an awesome play!

2. My trio and I just finished The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis. Wow. What a beautiful book! We have discussed it and then re-visited the discussion repeatedly because it warrants so much analysis. 

Particularly poignant for me was the woman so in-love with her child that she failed to love or be in relationship with anyone else -- including God. I had to re-read the chapter and swallow deep the knowledge that I do not often get my priorities in this area completely right.

The visual image of this woman visiting heaven to decide if she was willing to lay down this obsession with her son in order to fully be immersed in heaven -- and her subsequent refusal to do so -- was a powerful spur to ensure I keep the right perspective on my priorities: God, husband, children, family and friends. (Really, you must read this book!)

3. My trio of graduating seniors performed in their final high school production this weekend. The words about this get stuck in my throat. I am choking on the raw emotion of seeing them perform, watching them shine and remembering, oh remembering the experience of this wonderful theater company that did not blink at included all four!

With Benjamin's beloved Physical Therapist -- she has been to every show!!

Flappers blowing kisses good-bye to my sweet girl....

Me and part of my super-talented crew!

His chair was not very 1920s....so the director transformed it into a "Producer's Chair"! LOVED IT!

Surprise going-away party thrown by the cast for my kiddos!! So so dear!

There are other thoughts -- thoughts anticipating the move home, thoughts of anticipating the first day of college for each of my three, thoughts of gratitude for the investment our friends and family have made in the lives of these little bitty babies born far too early 18 years ago. But alas, the movers are summoning me for assistance, the vacuum has sat idle too long and I think there is quite a disgusting mess where my washing machine once stood. Sigh. I'll be back. And I'm sure I'll over-share about all the emotions once or twice more.

For now....

Hand-written addresses and the beauty of memories!

We sat at the cutest little table in the middle of the American Girl store making one last childhood memory before my beautiful daughter (and her adorable brothers) turned 18 the next day. We had giggled, taken pictures and dressed baby dolls in the course of our morning. It was a day etched in my memory as practically perfect!

During our lunch, the AG Cafe provided a little box of questions for us to answer about ourselves. We were having a ball -- this is the sort of thing that Claire, Cate and I adore! We had laughed so much as we simultaneously responded to "If you owned a store, what would you sell?" BOOKS, we had practically screamed in unison!

And then Little Red asked which we prefer, email or getting letters in a mailbox? Oh goodness. We had quite a discussion amongst three young (indulge me...sitting in the American Girl store, I DID indeed feel young!) ladies with vastly different introductions to email.

I love email, I exclaimed! It has been a lifeline for me to friends near and far as we have moved around the continent. I told the girls about the "dark ages" when long-distance phone calls took far more money than we had, and waiting on a letter letter seemed to take decades!

Claire loves to get a letter in the mailbox. She considers it very charming and as such spends a good amount of time sending letters herself in the hopes of blessing someone with a postage stamp!

Cate was torn. She doesn't have her own email -- and she DOES love to check the mailbox -- but the concept of having her own email and Facebook is so romantic to her right now that she was struggling to remember how much she enjoys getting a letter.

Today, I am storing these memories in my heart as I hand address the triplets' graduation invitations. Now, I was tempted to bulk print the labels until my Mother -- queen of all etiquette -- implored me to hand-write them. I may have grumbled a smidge.

But the truth is, I LOVE handwriting these addresses. I see the name and am instantly full of memories: Neighbors from three moves ago. Members of Wade and my Newlywed Sunday School class more than two decades ago. Friends from high school, college, medical school...

I addressed one of Wade's medical school friends and instantly remembered laying in a hospital bed on the Labor and Delivery Floor at the University of Chicago where the nurses were so busy they usually forgot to bring food to the bedridden woman praying NOT to deliver any time soon. Dear dear Blaine would stop by the UofC cafeteria on Wednesdays and bring me a $1 milkshake.  He and his family are so dear to us. Addressing their envelope made me smile.

I turn the page in my address book and tear up. The next three addresses are the trio's NICU nurses. Oh, how I want these ladies to celebrate this graduation with us. I almost rip the envelope I am bearing down so hard with excitement and eagerness to share a milestone I know we would never have reached without the gentle, tender care of Laura, Tricia, and Diane! I know the ladies who taught ME to celebrate every single gram gained, will be filled with joy about this news.

I write more -- giving thanks for friends and family that have prayed for these babies of mine since the day we learned there were three. Oh, I am so grateful for our prayer warriors!!

And then I choke up again. There is her name -- Susan. The boys' first Occupational Therapist. Susan gave birth to her firstborn the same day the triplets were born. When at nine months the boys began seeing her for therapy, she became a gift from God! "Why does Benjamin need to reach for those beads?" I would naively ask. She would explain how she was trying to teach him to reach across mid-line, a very necessary developmental skill and I would cry. And she would cry. And then we would wipe our tears and get back to work.

She taught me how to encourage and push the boys while STILL realizing how amazing they were. She never once treated them as if they WOULD BE amazing if ONLY they could learn the skills she was presenting. No. She treated them -- and me -- as though they were already perfect, she was just trying to help make them even better. It was enormous for a young mama who had no idea how to navigate the waters of Cerebral Palsy. (And she never once reprimanded a teeny tiny Claire who didn't need therapy but surely loved the beads the boys had to reach for so much we often found them um, hiding in her clothing when we got home!)

And so I continue to address these announcements that celebrate my trio. I am beaming with pride. I am shouting my gratitude to God. I am praying for the young adults that are achieving this HUGE milestone in their life. And I am thanking God for each and every person on our list -- for the impact they have made on my life, on Benjamin's life, on Mason's and Claire's lives. I am thankful for each prayer offered on our behalf, for each note sent, email read and Facebook friend add. I am thankful for the prayer warriors that made this graduation announcement possible.

And so I offer my hand-addressed invitation as a completely inadequate thank you note to so many. I offer it as a meager attempt at thanking you for loving us, for praying for us and for being so supportive in the last 18 years.

And to answer the question in the AG Cafe, I LOVE hand-written mail! Don't you?

At a loss.

We are home. And I desperately want to tell you about our trip. There were so many highs. A few lows. Some challenges and some amazing victories.

Claire getting kisses from her host brother, Renzo.

But words escape me. I think sometimes, we can be paralyzed by an inability to share the depths of an experience. And our time in Argentina was deep, moving, life-changing. And yes, sometimes, hard.

Sweet NEW sisters!

The people we had a privilege to encounter in Argentina were simply amazing. They were warm, loving, welcoming and have impacted our hearts forever. Honestly, my heart aches with the loss of their daily presence (and I know my kids feel the same way.).

Our family!

And because our family is crazy...we had to have a crazy picture! :)

Benjamin stepped out on faith, leaving his power wheelchair behind in the States because we feared a lack of accessibility. We were right. Buenos Aires has narrow doorways, old sidewalks, and small cars. We would not have been able to transport the chair. As it was, we had a daily challenge of fitting his manual chair in and out of cars to get back and forth to the church where we met our team. One day, the driver used a bungee cord to keep it in the trunk. I didn't take a deep breath until we unloaded it!

With our two host families...oh, how we love this crowd!

One day, we took every single piece that could be removed off and then had to re-assembly the myriad of pieces before we could unload him.

New brothers -- Jairo and Benjamin.

One day, the driver, turned the chair around and around, and finally placed it upside down in the passenger seat while the three of us (Benjamin, Mason and I) squeezed into the back.

Our host home -- sigh. Family.

It was always an adventure. And as I felt the stress during our first taxi ride, Mason looked at me and said, "Mom, God's got this." I tried to rest in the faith of my boy for the duration!

The language barrier was a hurdle we worked to overcome. We did our Spanish lessons all year. We had our handy-dandy Spanish-English dictionary and goodness, we relied on Google Translate and amazing new friends who could interpret. But man, when you want to have an in-depth conversation with someone you have grown to love, it can be so frustrating to not speak the same language.

Claire's dear host family were placed in our lives for some very specific reasons -- that only God was aware of at the time of placement. Because Claire stepped out on faith, and stayed in a home away from me and the boys, she had the opportunity to encourage and inspire this dear family in ways that would not have been possible had she been with us. I am so proud of her -- so excited to have been on the front row of watching God visibly grow her through our two weeks. And so delighted to have new life-friends in Vivi and Renaldo, her host parents.

For sure, the most stress-free part of the trip was being with our host family. They were so warm, so welcoming and took such amazing care of us. I am ever-thankful.

Mate -- the drink of friendship, exudes warmth, love and generosity!

Our times of service were exciting. Mason shared in a women's prison and the beauty of his words made an impact on the women listening. We were able to fellowship afterwards and encourage these women to seek the hope of our Savior. It was a spirit-filled day that had tremendous impact on us all.

Benjamin shared at a high school -- two young girls with Cerebral Palsy were in his audience. Again, we were struck by the sovereignty of a God who had this trip ordained for us long before we thought about it!

Work days -- construction, painting, etc -- were more of a challenge for my boys. Mason jumped in where he could but Benjamin could only watch. I want to be honest here and say that watching is hard for 15-year-old boys. I want to be honest here and say that watching your boys hurt is hard for 40-something-year-old moms. 

And while I am being honest -- sometimes I forget. I forget that we aren't what the world calls "normal." That every family doesn't have crutches and a wheelchair. That all teenage boys aren't well...like mine. And while I must say that the young men on this mission team were amazing -- simply amazing in their lifting Benjamin, carrying wheelchair parts, assembling wheelchair parts, etc -- they were teenage boys without the need of crutches and wheelchairs. And well, that was hard.

So, oh and I am loathe to say this, I am admitting here that I went to another continent, and perhaps the hardest part of that was being face-to-face with the fact that uh, we are different. There. I said it.

And yet, the best part of the trip was that we went to another continent and realized that even on the other side of the world, a hug translates as a hug. A kiss as a kiss. And really, we are all the same.

So while my words don't do it justice. And I can not possibly post the 1000 plus photos I took -- I hope you have a glimpse into the amazing journey God took us on. A glimpse into a ministry that so many of you were partners in -- and a glimpse into the blessing that was our trip to Buenos Aires, Argentina.

We will be back.

Gratitude.

As we sail right into Thanksgiving -- and I feel like the days are moving at light speed -- every one I know is talking about being grateful.

And possibly -- OK, probably -- because I have been in a whiny, grumpy, I'm-not-getting-my-way mood, God has been bombarding me with friends willing to speak the truth to me. Friends -- some real-life, actual friends and some bloggy-friends -- who understand gratitude and are not afraid to educate, encourage, exhort those of us who need a swift knock on the head!

Yesterday, my virtual friend, Joni sent a devotion right to my inbox. Joni Eareckson Tada has been inspiring me for decades. I first heard her story -- she was paralyzed in an accident when she was 20ish -- when I was very young. I was moved by her love of the Lord and immediately read everything I could find about her and by her. Little did I know God was using her to prepare me for parenting my amazing crew at least a decade later.

So, when I read the devotion she sent yesterday, I knew God was speaking to my heart -- sometimes we do not get our way because His way is so much better. Oh, I needed to hear that.

Then last night, as I sat at my boys' theatrical dress rehearsal, a message popped up on my phone from a real-life friend. Robyn is reading a book by Donald Miller and wrote to share some wisdom she has gleaned. Oh, I love that she spoke truth right to my heart.

Her point was that often it is only those who have walked a challenging road that can effectively minister to others. But more pointedly, she quoted this book as saying that only when we are buttressed by a deep spiritual walk does this work.

Ah. My pain -- my challenges, struggles, weaknesses -- can help others IF and only IF I am allowing God to iron those struggles, mold them, stretch them in me so that others may see HIS glory. Then, and only then, can I be, to quote Robyn,  a "wounded healer".

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4: 6-7 (emphasis mine)

Did you catch that? With thanksgiving. Right after saying not to be anxious. Grateful for whatever is causing our anxiety? Oh, that is a tough one, right?

"...Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ." Ephesians 5:19b-20 (again, emphasis mine)

Everything? Even when life isn't going the way we want? Even when times are tough and it hurts to say thank you? Even if...?

Yes, even then.

Because the bottom line is this: To live life fully -- we must be grateful. To live life filled with the peace that transcends understanding -- we must be grateful. To be used in a mighty way, we are going to have struggles so -- we must be grateful.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

We can trust Him, my friends. We can be grateful. For His plans will bless us beyond all measure.