a legacy worth passing on

A week ago, my dearly beloved Grandma Grace passed out of Earth's confining grip into Heavenly freedom and glory. I imagine her running toward the Light of Hope, never growing weary, never growing faint.

She lived 90 full years of life, and it was only the last 7 months or so that she had a steep decline in health, preparing the rest of us to let her go. I am happy for the joy and confidence she has as she enters Heaven's gates, because she's been saying she was ready to go live in eternity for at least the last decade of her life.

I am happy for her, at the same time as I grieve for myself and the end of new memories shared with this godly woman. There are plenty of others who can write a better tribute to her life than I can, numerating her many accomplishments and giving her accolades where due. What I write now is not intended as a full tribute to my grandmother's life. Instead, I write out of a desire to honor who she was in MY life. She has left a legacy that impacts me deeply, and convicts me of my responsibility to pass this heritage on.

Photo taken at my uncle's wedding,
around 33 years ago. Pictured is me, age 5.

Grandma Grace was true cheerleader for our family. She wrote frequent encouraging words of exhortation to us, often in the form of cards and emails. Every note held a reminder to pursue faith in Jesus as the only answer to hard questions in life. This reminder came in simple words directed at my babies on their 1st birthdays, and in more complex words directed at me. My husband particularly felt her words ministered to him in times of walking our family through discouraging circumstances. It shows me the power of a regular, encouraging word, especially rare in our hurried culture which can't be bothered with the time to stop and write a thoughtful note.

In the final decade of my grandma's life, she surprised me by becoming the biggest fan of this little blog I have kept. Any woman who learned to write emails in her sixties, and read blogs in her eighties, has great character! She was so proud of the things that I wrote here, and a believer in me as I dabbled in writing, quick to send me an encouragement following a post. In fact, the root of my love for writing may come largely from this grandmother, who wrote so much more than birthday cards in her lifetime. She authored and published three books, and wrote for countless other endeavors including radio programming and various newsletters. While it is tempting to be overcome by the impressive nature of published words, her example shows me that it was actually her numerous, small, unpublished words sent to me privately, that were most meaningful in my life. The world we live in values accomplishment, but the God we serve values our faithfulness to humbly and unselfishly use the gifts we've been given, outside of public recognition.

Perhaps my grandma's greatest legacy to our entire extended family was her belief in regular prayer and petition. A belief proved through action, and practiced joyfully. Prayer for those she loved, and prayer for those who had hurt her. Prayer for those who were lost. Prayer for those she met in the grocery store or doctor's office. Prayer as a constant part of her lifestyle. Prayer that came as a natural close to any conversation, with friends and strangers alike. She regularly asked people how she could pray for them, and there was never doubt that she would follow through.

It seems selfish to put it onto paper, but here I am, missing her, wondering who in my life will ever pray for me as faithfully as this dear grandmother did? Who else will fight my battles on her knees as desperately? And will something be forever lost here on Earth because her prayers have come to an end?

It offers a definitive challenge to pass on this legacy of constant prayer and extravagant use of encouraging words. I want the heritage of my children, and their children, to include these Spiritual riches.

This past July, I took a special trip with my middle child only (Sommer, aged 5 at the time.) We flew to a small town in the heart of Kansas to attend Grandma's 90th birthday party, and great excuse for a family reunion. She lived independently until a few months before her birthday, when she had gone to live with my aunt and family.

Grandma Grace with 8 of 12 grandchildren,
and 6 of 12 great-grandchildren

I'll never forget showing up to my aunt's house on the morning before the birthday party, asking how I could be helpful. Everyone had a job as there was food to make and decor to hang. But I was told I could be most helpful by getting Grandma ready for her party. While everyone else worked to prepare the birthday venue, I spent time with Grandma preparing the woman we celebrated. There isn't a single job I would have rather had.

As we began the process, I felt so unqualified to be the one dressing my 90-year-old grandma for her party. But there I was, asking her questions, taking her preferences into account, applying her make up, and feeling my inadequacies as a beautician bubble to the surface. She deserved an experienced make up artist, and the last thing I wanted was to draw her eyebrows on wrong! I curled her hair into position. I was so unqualified, and yet I had been chosen for this task. The privilege of this great responsibility felt sacred to me. In my heart, I knew these would be my last moments alone with her.

When she was ready, we sat on the couch together with a little extra time. She loved to read her Bible, and as it was getting harder for her to see, I offered to read a passage for her. Asking me to begin where her bookmark left off, I picked up in Matthew chapter 27. It is titled "Judas Hangs Himself".

I hesitated. "Um,... this isn't exactly a positive Scripture that fits a birthday mood. Are you sure this is what you want me to read?" My 5-year-old was also sitting with us and I was pretty sure we'd skipped this story in our Bible lessons.

"Yes," she assured me. "We are so close to the end of the book, why don't you go ahead and finish reading Matthew for me." A 90-year-old gets to hear what she wants on her birthday.

So I proceeded to read the final chapters in Matthew, the hanging of Judas the betrayer, Jesus' trial before Pilate, the cruel mocking by soldiers, on through the crucifixion, death, and burial of Jesus Christ. Somewhere in the middle of the passage I began to sob between words so powerful that they came to life on the pages. I had to pause while my voice cracked, and fight back tears. While I read to a woman who was nearing the end of her life, my mind wandered to the many unfair, undeserved circumstances my grandmother had endured. She'd lived through poverty in the Great Depression, and through betrayal, and through interrupted and broken dreams. It can feel tragic and unjust.

Yet, at the end of her life, she sat next to me a woman full of unselfishness and forgiveness. Instead of brokenness, she leaves a powerful legacy of prayer and exhortation behind her. Her story is one of joy instead of mourning, one of praise instead of despair, and an example of how our strength can come out of sheer dependence on Jesus Christ.

Just as the book of Matthew finishes with the freedom from death found in the resurrection of Jesus, I am left with no doubts about my Grandma Grace's resurrection into Glory after her years here on Earth. She is free and joyful forevermore.

I am thankful for every moment I had with this beautiful example. I will miss my Grandma Grace, but her legacy lives on.

90th birthday cake and a few great granddaughters

Christmas of 2015

A hayride around our old farm on my grandma's 86th birthday

 Words of Hope to live by...

"You will keep in perfect peace

those whose minds are steadfast,

because they trust in you.

Trust in the Lord forever,

for the Lord himself, is the Rock eternal."

Isaiah 26:3,4

"But those who hope in the Lord

will renew their strength.

The will soar on wings like eagles;

they will run and not grow weary,

they will walk and not be faint."

Isaiah 40:31

"The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

because the Lord has anointed me

to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives

and release from darkness for the prisoners,

to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor

and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn,

and provide for those who grieve in Zion-

to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,

the oil of joy instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.

They will be called oaks of righteousness,

a planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor."

Isaiah 61:1-3

birthday week

We are rounding the corner on "birthday week" in Germany. We now officially have an 8, 5, and 3-year-old. All growing fast. All celebrated well.

Cakes were store bought for the first time ever. This might become a tradition. They were delicious, and stressfree since I didn't have to come up with some kind of animal cake decorating design (though the kids kept asking and did not understand that buying a cake also meant Momma wasn't decorating it.) If only I can get back to a European bakery for future birthdays...

Gifts were simple, with the goal being suitcase-sized for our eventual return trip. The biggest birthday gift was a visit from my parents, who spent the week on mini-excursions with us. They did not obey the suitcase-sized-gift rule. Karsten's ukelele may make a very nice hand-me-down for little German child a few months from now.



I often dedicate a separate post to each child on their birthday. In the spirit of our motto to live simply this year, instead, here is a simple slice in time of each child and what makes him or her unique.

Annike: 8 years old (on September 19)

Is... a kind leader, often serious and reserved in new settings, but has a creative side that is bursting below the surface. She knows who she is and the things that she likes, and this year of crazy transition hasn't changed any of those things.

Loves... animals, animals, animals. Currently, she is infatuated with animals native to Germany. She is an incredible reader and speller, and loves to draw (mostly animals, of course). She is sweeter than ever while she plays with her younger siblings, and the two sisters have become quite good buddies over this past summer of having only each other as friends.

This year... she developed a joy found in being helpful, whether in the kitchen or with the laundry, or in watching her little brother. If it doesn't interupt her play time, then she loves to help!

We celebrated... with a trip to the "schwimmbad", and treats for her class at school, and cake for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.


Sommer: 5 years old (on September 22)

Is... a talkative, social, bright little light in our family who remains charming and pleasant as long as she is not hungry or in some kind of discomfort (in which she decides everyone around her should also be brought down to her own miserable state.) We think she is pretty smart, but it might just be that she never stops talking, and has thus developed quite a vocabulary for a 5-year-old.

Loves... beauty in all forms, whether playing dress up or coloring pictures that use every color of the rainbow, or wearing all of her favorite sparkling accessories at the same time. She appears to also love talking, singing, or making noise of one kind or another, and there are days when she never stops.

This year... she became a better friend to those around her, including those at school, her siblings, and her mother. She can be the sweetest companion, and has come a very long way in learning to play kindly with her younger brother, who doesn't always appreciate or respect her love for having beautiful things.

We celebrated... with a trip to Alsace (France) and a ride on the carousel, and ice cream for lunch.

Karsten: 3 years old (on September 28)

Is... an even-keeled, easy-going, friendly little guy who enjoys making people laugh and having deep converstions with strangers, who are then charmed into giving him all sorts of things.

Loves... trucks and police cars that have moving parts like doors that open, and scary animals such as tyranosaurus rex and crocodiles. His imagination has recently come fully alive and the line between real and make believe is often a bit blurry in his mind. This makes for a lot of great conversation with him.

This year... he has become a care-taker with a compassionate side, wanting to protect and nurture the people he loves in his sweet little 3 year old way. He loves to "save the day" as any superhero his age should.

We celebrated... with trips to many different playgrounds in the area, and chocolate filled croissants, and cake at various times throughout the day.

Somewhere in the middle of all of this celebrating, and cake, we took explored Switzerland on some amazing day trips with my visiting parents. Lauterbrunnen (meaning "loud waterfall") must be one of the world's most beautiful valleys. Nestled in the Alps just outside of Interlaken, is a striking contrast of lush green cow pastures and steep snow-capped mountains, scattered with old Swiss architecture that adds to the charm. Here is a glimps of our train ride through Lauterbrunnen and hike around the base of the Jungfrau and neighboring mountains. It surely must have been inspiration for authors of fantasy novels, because it simply did not look real.

 

 

turning two!

Dearest Karsten,

My sweet baby boy is turning two! Happy Birthday to my most mechanically-minded, outdoor oriented, stealthily determined and quietest child. I really can't believe you are two.

Oh sweet boy, may you always keep your tender heart and gentle spirit. You have a rough and tumble side that wants to poke things with sticks and break things. But you also have an innate compassionate understanding that I pray is revealed in greater capacity with each year of your life. You love your Momma, and find the taste of her hair strangely comforting. We hope you find new ways to show your love with each passing year. I hear it isn't very popular in high school to rub a clump of your mother's hair over your face before saying goodbye.

You are still chubby in the most delicious way. We get to admire your chunky legs often because apparently it is a genetic trait of our children to not want to wear clothes. You'd better learn to keep your pants on by the time you hit puberty, however. Good thing we have a few years left.

You love your sisters dearly, shown by your frequent unannounced kisses and hugs, and unprompted "I la loo" (I love you). They love you back, as shown by their patience and kindness in sharing with you and forgiveness of you destroying their hard work, beautiful pictures, and creations of all sorts. You want to be like them and have taken to wearing their dress up clothes and accessories. You have a particular fetish for shoes and socks of all color and style. It is definitely hard being the only boy amongst sisters. Take heart, I am told that boys with older sisters make the best husbands.

For a child that doesn't talk much, you sure manage to communicate. A shortage of words is not a shortage of opinion. If the gestures don't work, then a good breath-holding spell seems to get your point across. Breath-holding is when you get angry enough that you forget to breath and your face gets stuck in a silent scream for a minute, or more, until you turn purple and pass out. The doctor has assured me that you will outgrow this... but I am still waiting.

It also needs to go in the record here that you beat both of your sisters by many months to the first stage of potty training. On your second birthday you went pee pee in the toilet four times in one day - a young record in our house. Surely this means you are destined for brilliance!

Since I was given free reign on your cake, I went with a favorite theme of yours: tractors! Unfortunately, you were quite upset to see one of your toys on top of the cake. Perhaps you thought we were going to eat it? At least I got some photos before returning the tractor to you.

You didn't understand the birthday thing because it seemed to you like we were singing "Happy Birthday" all week long to various different people. Finally, someone started handing you some presents to open too.

It has become a fun family tradition to give our 2-year-old his or her first backpack. You were proudly excited to wear your new fox backpack all day long... as long as you didn't have to wear anything else, of course.

"I'm TWO", you say holding up all of your fingers.

And... the many silly faces made by your and your precious little personality...

We love you little boy! You make our family much better rounded. We can't imagine life without you. Keep growing into the little man God has destined you to be.

turning four!

Dearest Sommer,

Happy birthday to my spunky middle child who keeps us in giggles all day long!  As a good friend puts it, you are the perfect combination of sugar and spice.

Three was a fun age, and your imagination has grown to be much bigger than you are. There are days when you never stop talking, or singing, or sing-talking. You still have have a lisp, pronouncing your Rs and Ls like Ws, and your Ss like a TH. I want to always remember the way you sound right now with all of the musical inflection of a girl who is enthusiastically enamored with the world. 

You have the perfect middle position between your siblings, with a friend on both sides. Well designed for our most social child. You are growing into an excellent older sister, being sure to teach younger brother all of the rules, while enforcing a few of your own at times (we are working on that.) You and your older sister have become the best of friends this year and each other's preferred playmate. Together you are learning to get along most of the time, and are practicing fair fighting strategies the rest. 

Four is truly a magical birthday. You are excited to finally be a big 4-year-old, and now insist on taking four more bites of dinner instead of three before being excused. Of course, you are well beyond your years in many ways. You have memorized the names and calls of hundreds of birds from your bird song book, identifying more than I can. You are the youngest child in your pre-school class, but the teachers assure me that you are well placed (meaning if you were in the younger class you would be bossing everyone else around.) You learned to swim this year, which I believe was possible because you have no fear. Your independence and strong opinions can feel like an overwhelming job to parent, but I have to remember this is our opportunity to help shape those personality extremes into future greatness.

We celebrated all four years of you with your very first birthday party of your own. Like Annike's, it was a last minute affair with no extra frills. A cake and plenty of tutus and tiaras to share from the dress up bin is all a group of 4-year-old girls really needs to make it a party! You appropriately convinced the other girls to pretend that you were the queen while they were your daughters. Because it was your birthday, everyone seemed to think this was just fine.

Oh yes, and you gave up the idea of an osprey cake in favor of a much more colorful peacock cake. The inside was flavored like pink lemonade, just one step tastier than bubblegum. We may be giving the rest of this cake away to the neighbors, but at least it looked pretty.

We love you Sommer Sunshine! Happy 4th year of life!

turning seven!

Dearest Annike,

Happy SEVENTH Birthday to my sweet-natured, animal-loving, serious but silly girl!

You are a kind friend and a fabulous big sister - and there is nothing I would rather be able to say about my daughter than that. You love God and are always asking me to tell you a Bible story that you haven't heard yet (which is challenging me in new and good ways!) Your artistic talents have continued to blossom through detailed drawings and your beautiful handwriting. You enjoy learning about almost everything, but have recently been particularly engaged in ancient Egypt, insect life, and birds of all types. You, of course, still want to be a scientist when you grow up.

This year you have grown into a new kind of helpful member in our household, faithfully taking on chores like organizing your room, setting and clearing the table at dinner, responsibly watching your siblings, and helping with odds and ends jobs like window cleaning and car washing. The best part is that you do it all with a cheerful heart - and that make me SO PROUD. What a gift you are to our family!

We celebrated your birthday with a last minute invitation to the girls in your second grade class to come over for pizza, cake, and a "play date". I was afraid to call it a birthday party because I didn't have any decorations or party favors or any planned activities. The absence of fancy decorations didn't matter at all because the fun was in being together. I heard one of your friends tell you she was sorry that she didn't bring you a birthday present... and then I had a proud mother moment when you responded, "That's okay! You didn't need to bring me a present. I am just glad you came!"

As it turns out, you changed your mind about wanting a fox cake (which is good because I wasn't sure how to get the fox-flavoring to come out right). Instead you got a chocolate flavored hummingbird cake, which I feel represented you perfectly this year.

I want to remember this group of seven-year-olds as having big teeth, big feet, big imaginations, and really dirty faces. For all of the ways they are getting bigger, they are still quite little girls in many ways. Don't grow up too quickly, my child!

birthday month

It's September, and around here we know what that means: it's birthday month.

Don't ask me what we were thinking when we decided to have all three of our kids within 9 days of each other on the calendar. December is a great month... but we do end up paying the price in September. My own birthday is a few days later at the beginning of October. By the time we make it that far I am so exhausted that I usually don't mind when my birthday is completely overlooked. The greatest birthdays are the ones preceded by low expectations.

We try to make each child's individual birthday special... which means that each child gets a cake of their own. Of course, we end up with a ridiculous amount of cake, and no one wants it again until next September.

Traditions are started in a moment of perceived brilliance... that later may feel as far from brilliance as possible. In the spirit of tradition I asked each of my 3 kids the same questions:

Annike (turning 7) answered:
What kind of cake would you like?
    --- A fox cake!
What flavor should it be?
     --- Fox flavored.
Hmmm... Fox flavored cake? Are you sure?   

Sommer (turning 4) answered:
What kind of cake would you like?
   --- An osprey cake!
What flavor should it be?
   --- Bubble-gum flavor!
Well, daddy will definitely not be helping us eat that cake.

Karsten (turning 2) answered:
What kind of cake would you like?
   --- Doot!
What flavor should it be?
   --- Choo!
Good. I think I can handle that one.

Wish me luck. I am off to creative caking. Cake-creativity. Cre-cake-tive baketivity.
Oh dear. Bad start.

birthday week: karsten

My baby is ONE!

He has begun the final process of exiting babyhood, entering into boyhood. While I am looking forward to increased sleep at nights and having both arms free to carry things other than my children, I am sad to see the chubby cozy baby stage passing by with such permanence. These days will soon be but a memory. And just like those old people keep telling me in the grocery store, they have gone by so fast. Sigh.

Alas, on to birthday wishes and the last of the September craziness...

Dearest Baby Karsten,

No one loves me like my babies do. Which may be one of the reasons I am so sad to see you grow. You have already stopped looking at me with hungry eyes, and find it more fun to chase your sisters than snuggle me on the couch.

Your personality is emerging, though yet to be developed. You are growing into an active little boy, and quite the "explorer". You won't rest until you investigate all things new in your surroundings. While this makes it difficult for me to have a conversation with anyone, or complete any task outside of shadowing you, I wouldn't have it any other way. All of this curiosity is part of using the brain and the intelligence God gave you - and I sure hope that brain keeps you from sticking your fingers in an outlet.

Along with learning to crawl, you began to teach us about materialism. You quickly established yourself as the reason that our laptop computer is acting strangely and the reason our DVD player is broken and the reason my Bible is missing some pages in the front. You are the reason my trash cans are currently being kept on top of the furniture and the reason our living room is a giant playpen surrounded by baby gates. Oddly, this is not the way I pictured motherhood, but it is turning out to be just fine, because none of these material things matter.

In typical male fashion, you love all things food. This is possibly one reason you have loved me so very much, as I have been the bearer of all meals this entire year. When in doubt, eating seems to solve all of your problems. We hope to make you more selective this coming year, keeping the acorns and cat poop out of your mouth while encouraging such delicacies as broccoli and brussel sprouts.

As the fifth member of our family, you have brought a balance to our dynamics. Now there is nothing that can be divided equally, so we have stopped trying. This offers a certain health to our family unit as we have quit being "fair" and embrace the sharing and servitude that God intended for us all along. Thank you for being one more piece in that puzzle.

We pray every day that you will grow into a man who follows after God with your whole heart. A man who is a humble leader, and wise decision maker. In a world that is experiencing a crisis of men who fail to behave as men, there is no greater gift I could ask for you.

With all my love on your first birthday,
Momma

Your cake might not have been as cute as the girls' this year, but it was the best tasting... which you would have known if you had eaten the cake instead of the candle.

All you wanted for your birthday was a ride on something noisy.

Nothing could have been better than a ride on Papa's tractor and a ride on an excavator!

birthday week: sommer

One of the things that makes turning three special is that Sommer can finally hold up all three fingers to show us how old she is. The problem is that she keeps telling us she is five, so we still have something to work on.

Dearest Sommy-som, Sommy-num, Sommer sunshine, Som-Som,

I really do want to put you in a bottle and freeze you in time. Your squishy squeezy babyish body can not hold all the personality in and it is always exploding all over the place, much to everyone's delight. You are charming and funny and kind and imaginative and silly and snuggly and creative and smart and very very talkative, when you are not low on blood sugar of course.

I love your voice right now. Your vocabulary is impressive despite the lack of Ss and Rs and Ls and you manage to say quite a bit without these extraneous letters. You pretend to read everything, and you surely have every word in your favorite books memorized. You are an excellent story teller and I am never quite sure if it is the story that has fascinated me or the listening to you and the inflection of your voice.

I love your spunk. I never worry that another child will bully you because you understand well the art of defending yourself. We will tame this over time to become more gentle and fully appropriate, but you clearly understand your personal boundaries. You say what you think, so we never have to wonder. This means we get to hear lots of spontaneous "I love you"s. This also means we never doubt when or why you are upset.

I love hearing you sing. You sing everything and everywhere. Some of your favorites are "Raindrops on Roses" and "Jesus Loves Me". You do a pretty good job with "Part of That World" from The Little Mermaid too. You have a song for all occasions. You sing while you play pretend and your animals often sing to each other. You even tell made up "story-songs". You carry a beautiful tune. But most importantly, there is a song in your heart. May it always remain.

At three years old you already have a clear sense of conscience, forgiveness, and God's ever-present love. You are even quick to remind me when I am hurting: "But, Momma, God loves you."  What could possibly comfort me more?

I love you deeply. May three years old be a wondrous, magical year full of good things and growth in all the right ways.

Love, Momma