10 Years, 17 Months

Today is a big day in our house.

One one hand, today marks our ten-year anniversary. I hear the old fashioned way to celebrate is a gift in tin or aluminum. The ‘modern’ list mentions diamond jewelry. We went the pizza-for-dinner, watch-a-movie-with-the-kids route instead (Rio was the movie, in case you were wondering). And Eric bought me flowers. Let’s just say he knows me pretty well by now, so he bought me flowers I can plant outside and not feel guilty about forgetting to water them.

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And we did spend some time looking at pictures from that crazy day. The kids enjoyed seeing us. Alex wanted to know why we looked so different (I told him it’s because I haven’t slept for 5 years. ;-)) Mostly I’m just thankful we could look at the pictures because for some reason we could not find them on the computer (we did finally find the cds and got them uploaded where we can back them up regularly…whew!)

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Of course, I can do all the “can’t believe it’s been 10 years” and “wow, we’ve been through so much” and that would be true. But I’ll just say this: in the last decade, we’ve done a lot of fun stuff and some hard stuff (like the first six months of parenting twins). But in the last year, we stepped it up a notch, stepped out, together, to try for something more than we had before. It’s been harder than I could have imagined. But it is ours. And I cannot imagine doing this life with anyone other than Eric Hogue. He grounds me. He puts up with my crazy ups-n-downs. He never, ever complains. And I’m so very grateful for these years. I hope to have many, many more. But for tonight, I’m just so glad I have all the memories we’ve made and I have his hand to hold.

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On a different note…on the other hand, to complete the parallel structure from above… today is also the day that Timmy turns 17 months old! What a crazy, funny, wonderful little guy he is, too.

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He’s in that stage of frustration. He knows what he wants. But pointing and grunting isn’t working anymore. He jabbers, thinking he’s saying something real, repeating the same syllables with the same inflections, over and over. But…it means nothing. I’m really hoping we see a huge leap forward in his verbal skills soon.

Of course, there are some words that he can do. He does “down” a lot. Also “done.” And “fishy” is pretty clear these days. He does call me by name, though it’s always “da mama.” Eric was “Da-doh” for a while, but now it’s slipping into “ba-ba,” which is odd because Timmy has a clear word for my dad which is “pa-pa.” And they’re clearly not the same word. So I’m not sure what the connection is. But it makes sense to Tim. Sometimes he seems to have an actual name for Erin, and sometimes Alex. But Megan’s got nothing yet.

He LOVES books. Loves them. He will sit and flip through the books, pointing out the pictures and hearing the words over and over. He just discovered a Rainbow Fish color book that he reads constantly. And he loves to make elephant sounds. Occasionally we can get a cow sound, but it comes out “boo” and he does no other animals sounds at all.

The boy never walks. He runs. Always. You put him down, he puts one foot out in front and then he runs until he falls down or gets where he meant to go. He climbs everything. Falls off of things regularly. He eats markers. Eats.them. And he still loves to put on play hats whenever he gets the chance. He plays chase and very desperately wants to be big enough to do the stuff Alex can do. In a couple of years, we will have quite a duo of boy-ness to enjoy.

Timmy loves to be outside. He loves to swing (but prefers the big kids’ swings). He’s already figured out how to let himself out the door (not good for me) and get back in (better for me), but he would stay outside all day if he could. He likes to ‘drive’ things, turning steering wheels and messing with levers or knobs. We’re working to break his addiction to electronics (he likes that he can touch the pictures and something happens), but he’s better than he used to be.

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Really, at 17 months, he’s just a sweet and fabulous little man. I’m so glad he still likes to snuggle, especially at bedtime. And he’s still my jolly soul. He’s got a laugh that will melt your heart. But he’s definitely growing up. I’m just so glad to be along for his ride. So very, very glad.

So yes, today is a big day in our house. 10 years and 17 months. Can’t wait to see where we go from here!

 

 

WWAVD?

WWAVD…What would Ann Voskamp do? When Jen Hatmaker wrote that in a blog a while back, I laughed out loud at my computer. WWAVD…Awesome.

Because, though a bit late to the One Thousand Gifts party, I got there. And like most of us, I am often uplifted and touched by her blog. But I also need to be honest. Because, well, this is my blog, and I despise fluff and nonsense.

One Thousand Gifts is a remarkable book. Worth reading. And re-reading. Now, to be honest, some parts just elude me (I still don’t get the moon chapter). And to be honest, AV’s poetic style tends to bog me down sometimes. But the book…its ideas and questions and passion…they resonate every time I read them.

Eucharisteo. Giving thanks. Thankfulness as the path to re-membering ourselves into wholeness and a life fully lived. These ideas speak to me. I feel a Holy nudge as I consider them. And also, I cannot escape them. They keep showing up in other, unexpected places.

Like Madeleine L’Engle’s Walking on Water. A book about faith and art and how the two intersect. But right in the middle, she describes the life-threatening injury of her then-9-year-old granddaughter, Lena.

“I opened the small prayer book I bring with me when I travel, and when I came to the psalms for the evening, there was a picture of nine-year-old Lena…It was almost more than I could bear. I held the prayer book loosely, and a card fell out…on it were the words of John of the Cross: ‘One act of thanksgiving made when things go wrong is worth a thousand when things go well.’

“And I knew that I had to make that act of thanksgiving. I’m sure I was given the grace to make it that night and during the several days that followed…The largest part of that act of thanksgiving was gratitude for my children and grandchildren, for the first nine years of Lena’s life, and then to say with Lady Julian of Norwich, ‘But all shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well,’ and then to add, ‘No matter what.’ That was the important part, the ‘no matter what.’

“It was ten days before Lena regained full consciousness and we knew that she would recover. The gift of that card falling out of my prayer book when it did was one of the greatest gifts I have ever received. It made me affirm to myself that God is in control, no matter what, that ultimately all shall be well, no matter what.”

There it was again…out of nowhere…eucharisteo. Thanksgiving in the middle of real life. And God showing up, unmistakable and full of mercy. AV’s message. Another’s words. I see it. I get it. I think they have uncovered a real and truly holy truth.

But…here’s the thing. I’ve read One Thousand Gifts multiple times. I’ve recommended it to others. I even started a ‘gift list’ of my own. And yet. And yet. Something is still missing.

It’s like I’m trying to study off of someone else’s outline.

Starting in junior high, I studied by outlining chapters. It helped me remember the key information. I understood each chapter’s flow: the main points, the sub points, the important words. By the time I finished an outline, I knew the chapter. I had it.

But of course, it wasn’t a miracle solution. Sometimes, my friends would ask to borrow an outline. They wanted to look over it, hoping a quick glance right before the test would give them an edge. I always let them look, of course. But though they were hoping the information would just sink in, it never worked that way. My scores were always higher. My ability to use the information was always better.

Because they hadn’t done the work. They hadn’t read the chapter sentence by sentence, writing as they went. They were reading my journey through the lesson, reading my record of how it all fell together.

And that’s where I find myself with AV and my gift list. I got over 500 things written down. But it never stopped feeling…fake. Some of it was true thankfulness. But “write down 3 unspoken graces” just never ended up meaning much to me. And months in (and multiple readings of the book accomplished), I still don’t see much joy.

And I want the joy.

So I’ve stopped trying to copy her path. Maybe a list worked for her. Because she was living the lesson as she wrote them down. Maybe a list is working for you. (If so, great. Seriously, I’m so glad for you.) But it has seemed that the path to joy may not be as simple as just writing things down – at least not for me.

I need to think my way through it first. I need to understand the grace of it all before recording the graces makes a dent in my think skull. I have to absorb the truth of eucharisteo straight to my heart before my heart can break open to the joy of gratitude.

So I’ve given up on my list. I’m not done with eucharisteo. Not by any stretch. When I find myself in a rough patch with my kids. In a pity party of my own creation. When I’m just short of huffing in irritation at my husband. In those moments, I am working to build the same habit. To stop and give thanks. To redirect my perspective up. To pause and see good when I am ready to slice off someone’s head with my sharp and sarcastic tongue.

I’m learning. It’s the same path, I think. But a list of 1,000 things will probably not be part of it. At least not for me. And if not for you, either, that’s okay. Don’t limit yourself to reading AV’s outline. I don’t think that’s ever what she intended. Find your own path to the heart of joy. Pursue gratitude. Give thanks.

And in the end, I think that God will show up. No matter what.