from the homefront - spring

This post is full of unorganized pictures from the past few months, but it will tell you that our household of outlandish characters are alive and well. The days fly by and the evenings are taken up with caring for a baby, making sure that he is well stocked up for the night.


 

Don't you just love it when you walk into the room and this is what greets you? Toys, glasses, and hats on the baby...at least the baby hasn't been moved out of the room, but I put nothing past Tyler.

Thankfully this little guy has a great smile for everyone.

Celebrating Easter at my parents. It never fails to amaze me that with their four daughters (and no sons) they have ten grandsons and only one granddaughter. Olivia handles it all very well though.

 

 

Such sweet little winter hats

Easter at Adam's parents - how cozy!

Carl and Carly the Canada geese are back and looking quite in love.

Marley and Milly the Mallards are beautiful to watch as they gracefully swim.

 

 Having dear friends over is such a treat - it takes me a long time after a baby is born to have people over again. Does anyone else have this? I am not sure if it is tiredness or what but it always takes more time to get into a schedule than I think it will.

Building a swing set for the boys - Adam finds all sorts of creative ways to use the tractor.

 

Love this picture!

This week the members of our church look forward to moving into our new church that was built. A lot of hard work from many members of the congregation have gone into this big project. Here is a look from the back of the churches. You can see the old one in front. In a few weeks time the old church will be torn down and our boys want to be there for that great excitement.

I have been proof reading a lot of books on raising godly sons. These books all have wonderful ideas, and good advice but what it always comes down to is prayer; that our sons may be tender warriors with teachable hearts for our Lord and that we as parents may be wise with our dealings with these young children entrusted into our care.

 

 

This little guy puts me on a roller coaster of emotions every single hour that he is awake.

Poison ivy strikes AGAIN

     A few weeks ago when the weather started to turn warm, my hands were itching to get into the gardens. I started to garden with a vengeance but at the same time I was very hesitant. I did not want a repeat of last year. Maybe you remember my blog post from last summer of "you know that you have poison ivy when..."
A few years ago my poison ivy was so bad that I didn't dare go out in public and considered buying a head covering. The poison ivy was under my chin and the worse thing is that I don't get normal poison ivy. It blisters and oozes and requires gauze; just terrible. When the poison ivy was under my chin, I looked like a billy goat; a very pathetic site.
So, as you can see, I have a fear of poison ivy that is well justified.
When I started gardening this spring I was on guard for this horrible, invasive weed that causes much grief. I studied each weed before I pulled it and had "leaves of three, let them be" going through my head.
I started to feel pretty good about myself because of my vigilance in searching out the poison ivy. I even started to become self-righteous and had an analogy to go along with all of this.
 I really should  put as much energy fighting sin and fleeing temptation as I put into being on guard for poison ivy. I should be constantly aware of every little sin that enters my heart and weed it out.
 As this was going through my thoughts, I became aware of an idol in my heart, and that was an idol of physical comfort. I like to feel good and have energy. I don't like being thirsty or hungry. My circumstances dictate my joy. This all became a matter of prayer but my prayer quickly changed when I discovered three little raised spots in a line on my leg. Please let them be bug bites. The next day my leg was red, inflamed, spots had spread and the itching was driving me crazy. My circumstances were causing me distress and I was not joyful at all. Miserable.
So here I sit with my leg elevated to decrease the swelling and wondering how to end this blog post. Andrew just walked by, took a disgusted look at my leg and told me that it looks like I am dying. I am not sure what to be more concerned about- my constant itching, or the fact that my son thinks that I am dying and walked away.