I might have mentioned that we have a guinea pig. Harry is the progeny of the class pets at the local elementary school who joined our family when my oldest asked if we could keep her (yes, Harry is a girl…). My husband told Ethan that it was up to me, a mistake he regrets because he really didn’t want a guinea pig, and our very timid and traumatized guinea pig moved from a raucous class of third graders into a family of four kids. She’s still traumatized.
Last week, the thing that I have been dreading happened.
I usually get a lot of funny looks when I’m out. Maybe it is the four kids or maybe it is the fact that the oldest three are boys, but someone inevitably says, “Boy do you have your hands full!”
And I laugh (though sometimes I want to cry depending on how many times I have told said boys to stop hiding in the store racks… and if I have had to help them become unstuck from their hiding places in the store racks).
But I really don’t like the question, “How do you do it all?”
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Lately, Biblical translations have come up frequently in conversations.
The reason I picked more recent translation the English Standard Version or ESV as my primarily translation is a lot more complicated than the readability or the ease of understanding the translation. These are important factors, of course, but even more important though is the quality of the translation. It is my favorite because it is the closest to the original Greek text. Let me explain:
I need to apologize for letting this site go dark for so long; what I had intended was to take off a few weeks leading up to Christmas so I could focus on healing from the car accident we were in back in October. What I didn’t count on was not healing…
So here I am in March much where I was back in December. I’m still exhausted, still bruised, and still in much more pain than I should be.
And I realized something: I’ve just been waiting.
I’ve been really encouraged lately: a bunch of my friends have approached me saying they are considering foster care and want to ask some questions. I’m thrilled since it means a couple of things.
The first thing is that it means more kids are potentially going to find some great homes with some wonderful people to help cushion them in a terrible time. I wish I could take them all in, but the reality is that I can’t. We are simply one family and this is one of those cases where it truly “takes a village”.
We had an incident this week that involved an attempt to throw a five-pound hand weight up to the top bunk bed. I now have one very remorseful son with bad aim and another extremely forgiving son with a broken foot. To be completely honest, I am actually surprised that we’ve made it this long before having a broken bone. Having three boys means injuries are par for the course.
Sunday was Fathers’ Day and in the midst of all the celebrations, I spent some time reflecting on how God calls us Himself our father.
It is powerful imagery.
I’m lucky: I have a great dad who pointed me to Christ at an early age. He is an incredibly Godly man and I’m proud to be his daughter.
I’m so excited to be doing the first regular post here! I’ve been ecstatic to have Uncommon Grace up and running after the official launch last week. I’ve put a lot of effort into getting this site “right” and by this I mean editing the old posts I decided to bring over from my old site, redoing and editing my photography, and agonizing over my word choice for the pages. I spent a lot of time on it and I had begun to feel like I poured my heart and soul into it.
But, I can’t really do that. More on that in a second.
Thank you for joining me on my new site! I’m beyond excited about having an official home on the web now!
Since this is a new site, I decided that it was time for a new name: Uncommon Grace. As I’ve been writing for the past few years, my old blog has morphed and transitioned through several formats and titles to the point that I felt like I was just pulling at strings in order to tie everything together. As those who know me understand, I’m an extremely intentional person so this has just driven me crazy! For this new site, I can be intentional again.
This time in May is hard since I always remember the birthday we should be celebrating, but aren’t.
It has been awhile; like most women who’ve miscarried, I can be far more specific about how long ago, but it probably wouldn’t interest anyone to know how many years, months, weeks, days and even hours. The point is it is still with me. I think about the baby I never got to hold, but I will always hold in my heart.