family

Series coming soon: Taking care of four little girls alone (while my husband goes on an amazing study trip to Israel)

~ Christie ~ 35 Comments
lempacreative.com
lempacreative.com

THE FACTS:

1. We have four little girls ages 4,3,2, and 1.

2. I take care of them all day while my husband works full-time to support us and attends seminary classes at night.

3. You could say this is somewhat taxing.

4. I do get relief when my husband comes home at night and I get to exercise my mind with the theological concepts he relays.

5. But it’s all going to end… for two whole weeks.

6. Because he’s going to Israel.

7. And I’m staying here.

you better believe I’ll be blogging about this one

Can you say “hermeneutics”?

~ Christie ~ Leave a comment

Hope is intelligent, articulate and exact. Sophia is funny, crazy and mischievous.

They were sitting at the table, coloring. I was in the living room folding clothes. Which seminary class their father would attend that night was the topic of their conversation.

Sophia asks, “What class does Daddy have tonight?”

“Hermeneutics,” Hope replies.

“Oh…” and Sophia repeats hermeneutics. Except…she didn’t say it quite right. Almost, but not quite.

“No,” Hope corrects her, “her-me-noooo-tics.”

“Hermejetics.”

“Hermeneutics.”

“Herbejuckus?”

“Say ‘herm-”

“Herm-”

“-men-”

“-men-”

“-noo-”

“-noo-”

“-tics.”

“-tics.”

Hope is very happy with this. “That’s it! Now say hermeneutics.”

“Hermalexa.”

This went on and on. Sophia never cracked a smile, never changed her voice at all. Honestly, I didn’t know she had such creative, verbal-convoluting abilities in her.

Hope never caught on. Okay, she caught on when Sophia digressed into using bathroom word endings. Ay-yay-yay. That’s when I stepped in between peals of laughter, “Okay, okay.”

Was that really my three and four year old? Yep. Thanks for the reminder that my husband’s stellar sense of humor …has definitely been passed down.

Can you say “hermeneutics”?

What love feels like

~ Christie ~ 2 Comments

Sometimes love feels like the cold blast of air that greets you as your faithful husband walks in the door from work

Sometimes love feels like hot, stinging dishwater.

Sometimes love feels like a heart that’s hurting inside while a mouth speaks reproof that will yield future peace.

Sometimes love feels like a tiny hand connected to a very wobbly, newly walking body.

Sometimes love feels like the side of your husband pressed up against your own as you do absolutely nothing.

Sometimes love feels a lot like playing ring-around-the-rosie.

Sometimes love feels so amazing you can only respond in wordless worship.

Sometimes love feels like a rock in your stomach once you’ve decided to apologize.

Sometimes love feels like a four year old climbing on you as if she was still two.

Sometimes love feels like your heart is bursting.

Sometimes love feels not so much like a dramatic explosion inside, but thirty pounds of soft, squishiness sitting down in your lap.

Sometimes love feels like a fuzzy sleeper holding a body that’s collapsed on your shoulder.

All the time, love feels undeserved.

a mere memory

~ Christie ~ Leave a comment

photo credit, lempacreative.comI would do almost anything to hear Mckayla laugh. Fortunately, I don’t have to. Her laughter comes easily and often.

      As I sang her goodnight song, she reached for her blanket and bear; knowing it would make her laugh, I pretended the bear kissed her in between phrases. To see her laugh was pure joy: she threw back her head, wiggled, smiled…all was right in her world. How could I be the one privileged to witness this amazing moment?

I love that my face was close to hers. I love that I was holding her soft, warm body in my arms. I love that I could see every aspect of delight on her face. Wow.

Mckayla, I love you. I hope you never stop laughing. Maybe you’ll read this someday and remember how much your mama loves you.

Goodnight, sweetheart.