And by “___” I mean ___.

It’s Tuesday morning and we finally found that last Easter egg that eluded us all Sunday evening. This is such a relief for me because I KNEW I hid 37 eggs, and when we only came up with 36 I thought I might be losing a little bit more of my already scattered mind.

We celebrated our Savior’s resurrection in a brand new way this year. Let me say up front that our Easter Sunday was wonderful (aside from the fact that all of us except Wayland had on shoes that were just plain wrong – and by “just plain wrong” I either mean too little, not matching the attire, or I should not have worn those heels knowing I would be on my feet for the better part of 5 hours). Yes, it was a good day, just a very different day. Five services in one weekend and one child short kind of different. After finally eating lunch at close to 4pm, and then visiting with our “Indiana grandparents” next door for a while, we had a very impromptu hunt on Sunday night that was restricted to inside the house (downstairs only) because it was getting dark and sprinkling outside. By then, we were all in our pj’s because our feet hurt and we were tired enough to cry. I am not at liberty to tell you if all three of our children who happened to be home participated in this egg hunt, but I can tell you that one of them thought he was too old until I told him there may be an egg with a couple of dollars in it. AND that he better not try and eat one piece of his younger siblings candy if he wasn’t willing to hunt for his own. That did the trick.

We concluded our Easter Sunday by watching the finale of The Bible. As I watched the crucifixion scene, I kept thinking over and over, What kind of love is this? What kind of love is this? It’s indescribable, really. Impossible for us to wrap our human minds around. I realize the only reason I can love, is because He first loved me – when I was completely unloveable, no less. (1 John 4:7-21). I am so very, very thankful.

And that’s not the only reason I’m thankful. Since Nate left homeThursday morning, I have had an amazing amount of peace considering my 15 year old son is halfway around the world. We know he made it safely to Johannesburg, South Africa on Friday evening local time. On Saturday he and his team traveled to the Limpopo Province, about six hours away, and are presently doing a spiritual retreat for some of the AIDS orphans in the area. At some point this week, Nate will have the incredible opportunity to meet Sello – the young man our family has sponsored the past five years, which will be nothing short of awesome, in my humble opinion. I cannot wait for pictures. From meeting up with another youth group on their way to Africa for a mission trip and doing bible study on the plane together, to hearing the heartbreaking stories of some of the youth at the retreat, I know Nathanael is being stretched in his faith, and learning to submit wholly to the work of the Holy Spirit to strengthen and sustain him.

Even though I’ve experienced a great deal of peace with Nate away, I still miss him. His absence is particularly felt when I’m folding laundry. I just can’t quite reconcile myself to five stacks. Or five place settings, for that matter. In an effort to even the scales, we’ve opened our doors for extra kiddos to join our happy, loud, and often crazy household. Still, it will feel good to have our own boy home next week. It will be amazing to see that beautiful smile light up a room and hear him say, “Hey Momma! How was your day?” when he walks in a room.

In the meantime, I’m going to be soaking up time with my three other precious babies over this super laid back (and still pretty cold) Spring Break. Way and I have plans to take the kiddos into Chicago one day this week which should be mucho gusto (and just so you know, by “much gusto” I mean “very fun.”) (Nate isn’t here to translate for me – sorry).

A Decade in the Making

Today our daughter turns ten. In-stinking-credible, isn’t it?

Anna Elizabeth, born a West Texan surrounded by a large and loving family, celebrated her first birthday in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and has celebrated the following nine in Indiana.

Here she is blowing out her candles at age four…

And today…

That makes me smile so big.

I’m blown away by my girl. Her maturity. Her selflessness. Her heart for the poor, the needy, the afflicted. Her spunk. Her love for nature. Her vision for the future. Her ability to look for the unexpected in almost every situation. Her perfect balance of warrior, advocate, nurturer, and young lady.

If we lined up every girl in the whole wide world and had to choose just one, we would choose you, Anna E!

Happy 1st Decade Birthday, my girl. We love you!

Awakening in the Sanctuary

I sit, with my quiet and my coffee, raindrops spatter the gutters outside providing the perfect soundtrack for my slow morning. Ruby sleeps three rooms over, still unwilling to bond with me despite my best efforts. It’s Monday. Kids are back in school, and I push back the to-do’s on my calendar for this precious time of decompression. Much needed after such busyness of the past few weeks. Mindless distractions vie for my attention. Morning news programs, social media; endless talk with little substance. I pick it up and set it aside more than once.

How can my mind be stayed on you, Jesus? Do I trust in you? (Isaiah 26:3).

My prayers seem to hit a low ceiling. Please burst through. I have a long list, Father. I know you know it. I believe you see. Will you intercede on my behalf? Yes. (Romans 8:34).

My heart, overflowing with gratitude. My heart, heavy with concern. This struggle of emotion and truth. I know you are moving, God. Stirring things inside my heart. A holy unrest; spurring me onward.

You are faithful to teach me. In my moments of distraction, you speak through the tappings of a keyboard; through the scribbles of a journal. I open my eyes, surprised to find myself in your sanctuary.

Psalm 63:1-8
Oh God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you,
as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary,
beholding your power and glory.
Because your steadfast love is better than life,
my lips will praise you.
So I will bless you as long as I live;
in your name I will lift up my hands.
My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food,
and my mouth will praise you with joyful lips,
when I remember you upon my bed,
and meditate on you in the watches of the night;
for you have been my help,
and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy.
My soul clings to you;
your right hand upholds me.

Questioning

So, Wayland is on his way home from Ghana West Africa where he has spent the past week loving, listening, helping, and learning from the people there. Doing things with an eternal purpose.

I have spent the past week in my car. Not the entire week, but it sure feels close.

It got me to thinking how mundane it can feel to be a mom. How draining it can be to hear “Mom!” and “Mom?” and “MMMOOOOOOOMM!!!!” so many times a day.

Luke is in a stage right now where as long as his eyes are open (and he is not in school), his mouth never stops moving. Seriously. What’s worse is he’s not just talking. He’s asking non-stop questions. Hundreds and hundreds of questions. Most of them have to do with football, which is his most recent obsession. In the past week, I have been asked about every scenario in a football game, about every team, every play, every Super Bowl, when Nate’s first game will be, when Philip’s first game will be, when his very first game will be, what if they are all at the same time, who will I watch first…and that is only in about a 10 minute period of time. Then we do it all again. When I’ve had enough, I change the big boys’ names to “Mom” so they can answer the same questions…one more time. If Luke happens to move into a room by himself, he doesn’t stop talking. No, he commentates the football game he is playing by himself where he is the center, the quarterback, the wide receiver and the kicker all in synchronized order. Honestly, it is exhausting. We are quite a ways off from August and the start of the season; I fear for my sanity if this level of interest continues.

This, coupled with the hundreds of miles I put on my car this week trying to get everyone where they need to be (Nate did actually drive many of those miles, with me in the passenger’s seat - sometimes overreacting when the roads were extra wet and slippery, but most of the time staying calm and collected – even when he did some Interstate driving), and the fact that my car wouldn’t start last night, and Luke and I were stuck in a parking lot in the snow after running some errands to pass the time before we had to pick up the older three has left me a little rum-dumb. (Without the rum, mind you). (Although, there were a few nights this week I may have indulged given the opportunity).

All this to say, sometimes my weeks don’t feel like they are making an eternal difference. I think it is easy to feel like in all the “doing” that comes with running our household, I sometimes see my job as “Mom” as far less important than those who seem to be world changers.

In His gentle kindness, God is reminding me that maybe my job right now is to raise some world changers. When I listen to them, correct them, encourage them, pray with them; when I look for every opportunity to teach them a life lesson in situations that arise in our daily life, maybe I am making an eternal difference. I miss the mark many times, but every day I wake with a renewed desire to raise them up in the love and admonition of the Lord. (Eph 6:4)

This morning we dropped Ruby off at the vet to be spayed (I initially typed “spayed and neutered,” but that isn’t technically possible since Ruby is only a female). (Thank you, Bob Barker and years of watching Price is Right as a kid for making me think that was actually one thing for far too long than I care to admit).

(I am using a lot of parenthesis today). (Sorry).

Anyway, on our way to drop Ruby off, Anna was getting emotional and started to cry. While I was consoling Anna with my “logic,” Luke interrupted and asked if we could pray.

Yeah, that’ll humble you real quick.

He’s been doing this often lately. Initiating the idea that we take our questions, our fears, our concerns to God. For instance, he couldn’t find the book he was doing a book report on the other day and this seriously started to stress him out. I started to ask him where he had it last, and he stopped me and told me he was going to pray about it. Five minutes later he came down with the book in his hand and tears in his eyes. He had found the book between his upper bookshelves and the lower cabinet. Behind stacks of books and papers (he has a tendency towards hoarding), completely out of sight and not easily accessible. I asked him why in the world he thought to ever look there as he had to clear the entire shelf and cabinet to get to it, and he said “I felt like that was what God was telling me.”

Again with the humbling.

I joined him in tearing up and told him I was so thankful he had asked Jesus what to do when he felt worried. I was so excited that the Holy Spirit had whispered to him where to find the book and that He cared for something that might seem insignificant to many, but was a really big deal in Luke’s eyes.

Just like the Holy Spirit speaks to me when I question my purpose and deal with my own feelings of insignificance.

I’m beyond blessed to have a Savior and friend who loves me like He does. To have been given a family that I love and adore like crazy. To have a husband whose faith is strong and who walks confidently where God leads Him. To have kids that keep me humble, test my patience, scare me to pieces, and teach me little lessons from God above.

 

 

I feel introductions are in order…

Hello, my name is Kaleesha. I once blogged, and exercised, and could go for days on an incredibly small amount of sleep and still keep a smile on my face.

Obviously, that is no longer the case.

Still, I feel a heavy responsibility to try to play catch-up and account for all that has gone on in the Thompson household the past month or so. Frankly, it is overwhelming enough living it, so trying to recount it in a respectable amount of detail would probably just send me over the edge. Allow me, instead, to introduce you to the major changes and additions that have taken place in our little family…

1. My husband is now a pastor. That makes me a pastor’s wife (this really freaks me out; really). Our kids are now “PK’s.” I cannot tell you how all of a sudden this has hit me…like a ton of bricks. Wayland is walking where God has called him and is so thankful and happy to be living out his purpose. It has been an extremely busy and crazy month, and we are far from settling into a routine, but we are taking it one day at a time. I’m so thankful and truly proud of my husband for taking this step of faith and following where the Lord was leading. God is good; Faithful; Mighty and Able. I still stand in amazement of how He chooses us to be part of His story.

2. My daughter’s prayers were answered on Christmas morning when she received a Wheaten Terrier (also known as a dog) (oh yes, you read that correctly) named Ruby. Truth be known, only God could have changed my heart on this subject (which is what Anna and Wayland had prayed for the past year or so) and I’m happy to say that I am living in peace and even…(dare I say it?)…joy!, with our newest addition to the family. She has been absolutely perfect, and watching my family receive such pleasure from her presence has caused this “not a dog person,” to soften quite a bit.

Meet Ruby. Perfectly placed under the tree Christmas morning…

She was in shock…

…followed by tears of unbelief and joy…

She actually ended up in my lap weeping and saying “thank you” over and over, which caused me to cry as well. Needless to say there were a lot of “Thank you’s,” and “I love you’s,” and “I’m so happy’s” going on in between sniffling and sobbing. I was reminded of the scripture in Matthew 7:11 that says, “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” I thought of how I felt in that moment with Anna in my lap, having received an answer to a long prayed prayer, and then I thought of how many times God has bestowed this kind of love on me and I don’t remember crawling up in His lap like a child would to thank Him and express my love so freely. I’m still pondering this…

Bosom buddies

Of course, more happened on Christmas morning than introducing Ruby…

We have had many a Nerf gun battle this past month. There is no telling where you will find the darts…

There’s a good chance if you’ve seen Philip in the past month he has been wearing this.

Everyone loves the beanbag chair…

Nate was more excited about Anna E. seeing Ruby than opening anything for himself. He did like his newest TAMU gear though…

The day after Christmas a bona fide blizzard blew in. It left our home looking like this…

I absolutely love Winter…

3. Two days later my oldest had his tonsils removed. He spent two full weeks (his entire break and more) in a good amount of misery. I made him soup, and jello, and pudding and bought him popsicles and ice cream, but all he wanted was water and he lost 14 lbs. This does not sit well with his football coaches. He is now on a mission to eat us out of house and home trying to regain his original weight and more. It’s not really working. I, on the other hand, have gained 5 lbs just watching him eat.

Poor thing…

4. Granny came to visit. We had a lovely time, although the majority of it was spent inside the house bundled up from the snow and cold, which is not her favorite. She did venture out one afternoon for some sledding. (Her first, and possibly last time). I’m not sure how we don’t have a picture of that. It’s shameful, really.

5. On New Year’s Day, we won a grand prize.

(I just noticed that says actutal not actual. Very intertesting!)

On January 1st, we had 52 Free Chick-fil-A meals. I think we have 38 left. I have a feeling this isn’t going to last the year…

6. My baby turned seven years old earlier this month. Seven doesn’t sound like a baby. To celebrate, we (and by we, I really mean I, because in all fairness, it was my great idea) allowed him to invite five other boys to our modest home for an epic Nerf battle, pizza making, cake-eating, duct-tape creating, blanket tent building, Star Wars watching sleepover. Several times during this party that seemed to last an eternity, Wayland looked at me like, “It was YOUR idea!” And I looked back at him like, “Yeah, I remember that dear husband. Why didn’t you put your foot down and forbid this idea?” Still, we survived and the house was left standing, which is more than I can say for myself.

7. Eight days later, Philip celebrated his 14th birthday. This was the same week that I had to take him to the high school for a meeting on preparing his schedule for next year, when he will actually be. at. the. high. school! And that, my friends, is another reason that I feel every single gray hair popping up all over my head. Philip’s birthday wish was to sleep in, and so at 11:50am, I finally woke him up with the threat of his siblings and parents eating all the donuts before he got even one. He reluctantly rolled out of bed as we serenaded him with “Happy Birthday to you!” (He used to get more excited about birthdays; before things like sleep took priority).

By 7:30pm he was finally fully awake and able to join his father and older brother for Nate’s birthday dinner (promised to him a full six and a half months earlier). Nate was gracious enough to share his birthday dinner with Philip and celebrate it on his younger brother’s special day. It’s just how we roll in the Thompson household. They were all satisfied, because they went to Fogo De Chao, an authentic Brazilian steakhouse where the meat just keeps coming as long as your “green light” card is up at your table. I’m pretty sure those three Thompson men committed the sin of gluttony this past weekend. At one point Wayland texted me and said, “Philip is staring at a flower arrangement because if he sees any more food, he will vomit.”

8. Speaking of vomiting (seriously, you can’t make this stuff up), since I began this post, another guest has made its way into our house. (Albeit an unwanted one). Yes, the stomach flu seems to have made an appearance, so that’s my cue to wrap things up here.

Never a dull moment and I wouldn’t trade it for a minute.

4our

Philip, it’s been four years. Four years since your diagnosis. Four years since I stayed up all-night-long watching an Intervention marathon in your hospital room and thought, “it could be worse…he could be using those syringes for something other than insulin, and that would break my heart.”

From that very first day, I’ve marveled at the way you’ve handled this disease. It does not own you. It does not control you. It does not define you…still, it is a large part of who you are. This year I’ve seen such enormous growth in you, Philip. You have taken major ownership and become proactive in your care. You are more willing to listen and learn when it comes to this disease. You have become a role model, friend and encourager to others walking this same road. This “Affliction” has brought much heartache and pain, but I believe it has also helped make you more caring, empathetic, determined, brave, and responsible. This disease was inevitably going to shape you…I’m just thankful (by God’s grace) you’re allowing it to mold you into a well-adjusted, strong and successful young man.

Thanks for being such an incredible son and awesome kid!

I love you,
Mom

Light Has Come

I don’t know about you, but the magnitude of a Savior – God’s own son, coming to earth as a humble, helpless babe has fallen on me in a new and fresh way this year. I am overwhelmed with thankfulness, awe, and love.

My feelings are pretty well summed up in Barlow Girl’s, Hallelujah (Light Has Come), amazing Christmas song. You will not be disappointed if you click on over and give it a listen. It’s my new favorite.

Here are some of my other favorites…family devotion time around the Christmas tree, my best friend and father of my children leading our family with a heart of service and a love for his Savior, baking cookies with the littles, hearing the big boys sing, having all four kiddos home the next two weeks, listening to Philip laugh, watching Luke dance, seeing Anna curl up with a good book, watching Nate be more excited for what his siblings are going to receive than caring if he gets anything at all, seeing my husband walk in obedience to the call he received to ministry. My heart if full.

I pray that in the midst of all the hustle and bustle, despite soar and aching feet and having to fight crazy traffic, and regardless of having to make that last minute trip to the grocery store even when everything was marked off the list, that we would all remember the Light of the World and reflect Him to a dark and hurting world.

Merry Christmas, Y’all!