bits of sunshine

amazing

he told me once, earlier this summer, "i'm sorry that you are home dealing with all of that while i'm out here doing something that i absolutely love."

i told him that i'm so grateful that he loves what he is doing.  and i get to be with these two amazing kiddos.  the house stuff is crummy, but this house that i'm cleaning out doesn't run my life.  it takes time and effort for me to keep up with everything, but it is so encouraging to me that ben has a job that he enjoys, that he is doing well, that he has opportunities to move up and forward.  his job gives us a direction to go, something to work toward.  i am so proud of him.  so proud to be his wife.

and i am so proud of my kiddos.  and so grateful for what God is doing in their hearts and minds.  in the past few days they have completely astounded me, and their attitudes and actions have caused my throat to tighten and my eyes to prick . . . their kindness and optimism bring this mama of theirs pure joy and fills my heart with gratitude for their tenderness and for the fruit of the Spirit that is growing in their lives.

on wednesday we went to look at the apartment we are going to live in.  nothing fancy.  nothing fancy at all.  but they looked it over and right away found the little closet under the stairs just off the living room. 
"could we have this for our fort, mom?" isaac asked me. 
"i don't know," i answered.  "we might need it for storage." 
i proceeded to talk some things over with our new landlord while the kids looked the rest of the apartment over.  before we left, maddie and isaac brought me to the room they will share and showed me where the bunkbeds will be, where the lego table and rug will be, where the doll corner will be, and how amazingly big the closet is.  then, they asked again about the closet under the stairs. 
"we could hang my birthday lights on this pipe, mom.  and my bean-bag could go here, and isaac's bench could go over here, and we could have books in here and hang all our drawings on the walls with tape," maddie told me. 
how could i say no?  especially after reading this (from at the back of the north wind by george mcdonald) and jotting it in my journal a few days before:

and instead of being miserable at the change,
he began to find out all the advantages of the place;
for every place has some advantages,
and they are always better worth knowing than the disadvantages.

maddie and isaac are living this.  and my heart is full to bursting.

then, saturday morning.  they set their alarm earlier than i had told them to.  when i came out of the bathroom at 4:10, they were upstairs, dressed, ready to go do the paper route and told me that they had grabbed their clothes off the drying rack and out of the dryer and finished their packing. 

they were such cheerful helpers on the paper route.

and when we returned home, i jumped in the shower.  by the time i was out and dressed, they had done the animal chores and loaded all their things in the car.  maddie had also filled all our waterbottles and isaac had made sure all the lights were shut off.

after a fun breakfast out, we drove three hours to meet my sister and her family.  as i visited with her and her husband, isaac played with his cousins on the playground and maddie transfered all her and isaac's things over to my sister's van. 

i was in awe.  they are so considerate.  they are so grown up.  they are so full of grace. 

God is so good.  He pours out such rich gifts.  ben and i have amazing kids.  my husband has an amazing job.  and i have been given the sheer joy of sharing my life with these three amazing people.

 

lucky enough

we've found it.  there are a few things we love, absolutely love, to do.  we love to be the four of us all together.  we love to love others.  we love to share our time and give gifts and we believe Acts 20:24.  we love to bike, camp, paddleboard, and jeep.

so, how do we live it.  we can't do those things if we are spending every penny we have and more on the roof over our heads, if our home and yard upkeep take the majority of our time, if we have to work multiple jobs and many, many, many hours.

we can live that way of life if we live in a tiny, inexpensive place.  then the job ben loves will take care of our needs and (within reason) the things that we enjoy.  then he won't have to work second and third jobs.  then i can do some small jobs that i love, because they are a blessing to the people i do them for and with.  then we can work hard and play hard.

i have that quote taped on the front door, so every time i walk by, every time i walk through, i see it.  and it reminds me that if i don't want us to be stuck, i have to do something (a lot of somethings) about it.  i have to make the phone call, and the next phone call.  i have to keep track of the pertinent info.  i have to go through the boxes and cupboards and shelves.  i have to get ready for the sale.  i have to do the work.  i have to meet the deadline.  and set another one.  and meet that one, too.  

and it takes courage.  courage to talk to the attorney again, and to one more banker and one more real estate agent and the new landlord.  courage to go through things that have been gifts, things that are heirlooms, and decide to pass some of them on and to sell some of them, even a lot of them.  courage to go through boxes of old memories.  courage to throw away things that are just dragging along with us. 

it's going to take courage for ben to apply for fire jobs in the places we really want to be.  if he really wants the job, it's not just sending off an application.  it's taking a trip, walking into an office, making introductions, and making that FMO (fire management officer) or Sup (superintendant) believe that they just don't want to get along any longer without ben on their crew.  he's got it, though.  he's got courage and skill and wisdom and strength. 

and we've found it.  we've really found the way we want to live. 

and we're working toward it, one step at a time. 

the next step is getting everything sorted and set up for our moving sale.

after the sale, we'll be moving into town, into a small apartment.  we'll winter there.  and when spring comes, we'll see where we'll be - maybe here for one more fire season, maybe somewhere different . . . 

we're finding the courage, making the plans, and starting to head a new direction.  we are, all four, quite excited.  we are lucky enough to be in this together. 

quietly grateful

sunrise.

friends.  dear friends. 

the ones who came to visit over the past few days.
and those who read my blog
and leave me sweet comments
and think of me and send me love and prayers.

two babies i used to rock, now lovely 18 and 20 year-old girls.

comfortable conversations.

warm hugs. 

an excellent phone call. 

my man is off the mountain and on his way home. 

2 1/2 more days.  we can do this.

pizza for the first time in over a year.

cousins enjoying one another.

a nephew offering to take the feed to the pigs.

older girls who love my girl and who i would love for my girl to be like.

a 14 year-old boy who will sleep over and build legos with my 8 year-old boy.   

a happily decorated phone case. 

the probability of a trip to the big pool tomorrow.  just me + m + i. 

that will get us one day closer!

a nap.

the simplicity of acts 16:31.

sunshine. 

cherries. 

coffee.  always coffee.

just me

on july 27, ben had already been gone for 4 days 
i wore my wildland firefighter t-shirt to our family get-together 
i was the only 1 of 9 adults without my other half  . . .

the back of my shirt?

it is wild, this love we share 
and i wildly miss him, 
while i am wildly proud of him and what he is doing 
he's here, on the SW flank of the Big Windy Complex fire in Oregon 

i used "ben's" mug at the get-together at my parents' house 
so that and the t-shirt . . . 
didn't make up for his arm around me, my hand in his, his eyes to meet across the way . . .

last friday i wrote about our home and about a log and about grace 
so many of you so kindly responded here
and on facebook
and in emails and messages
and phone calls . . . 
i feel less alone in all of this
thank you, my friends, thank you so much

we hadn't been sharing with, well, anybody, really 
we didn't know what to say  
but now it seems as though there must be an end sometime soon 
and that notice is in the paper 
and we are so grateful for kind thoughts
and prayers for a timely resolution to our situation with the bank

i am going through our home 
back in october i wrote this 
i didn't get very far with that organizing . . .  
now i don't have a choice 
we are going to get our belongings pared down to what would fit into a trailer 
there will be a few boxes and pieces of furniture that get to stay in my mom and dad's storage room 
but there will also be a big sale 
furniture and glassware and books and fabric and toys and linens and knick-knacks and clothes and tools and ice fishing gear and all kinds of things  

i have been going through things a bit at a time over the past few days 
i'll keep at it 
i'm giving some things away 
but there will be a sale early this fall . . . 

in some ways this is so overwhelming 
but in others, i am really ready to have this sorting and choosing done 
it's good to have a goal to work toward 
and good to think about living small 
living with very, very little 
getting our feet firmly under us 
having our life look different 
taking away the stress that eats at me, even when i am dead set on trusting . . .

today i wore my wild t-shirt again 
13 days down, 8? to go 
until i get to wrap my arms around my man again  
then we can be b+e
not just me

i'm going to tell you something, something about a log and about grace

there's a house that i pass
on the way to my parents' house. 
for the past almost-year it has been almost re-sided. 
there has been a bit,
in the gable-end of the garage,
that hasn't been finished. 
for almost a year, 
every time i drive by,
it bugs me. 
why don't they just finish it?
i often wonder. 
i mean, really.  what did they start it for if they weren't going to finish it? 
and i said as much, out loud, the other day,
as my mom and i walked past it. 

and what she told me seared my heart. 

the owner was in an accident
and the work on the house came to a halt. 
he's going to walk and function again, though, 
almost a year later! 

and here i am,
judgmentally wondering
why that siding isn't done yet. 
why the front porch is still unfinished. 

oh, elizabeth. 
the log in your own eye. 
the ugly, heavy, massive log. 
i want to be looked on with compassion,
not judgement. 
and yet,
here i hold judgement and condescension
in my own heart.

Father, forgive me.

i live in a house that is not finished. 

and it's not for lack of trying. 
we were going to have it 100% finished before we moved in. 
and so many people laughed and said, "that's what everybody says." 
but we weren't going to be everybody. 
we were going to have it done. 
and then move in. 
and live in a finished house. 

that was before the bank showed their true colors
and the nature of the mess they had put us in. 
we have fought for 3 years to stay in this house. 
it's a long story. 
and i keep learning more, every day. 
i learned some new things wednesday, even,
about how truly deep this mess really is. 

and because of the position the bank put us in,
because of words like
predatory lending
real estate comparables
unique home
unforeseeable detriment
we are now involved in litigation against the mortgage holding bank. 

and in the meantime, now, after the fact of the disaster,
we are covering all our bases as many times as we can. 

the list of people we've talked with and sought advice from includes
mortgage bankers,
attorneys,
the state attorney general
and her director of housing services,
our county mortgage counselor,
realtors,
parents,
friends.

and the time spent on this,
on trying to make sense of things and sort them out
and get to a point where we can function financially,
so much time has been eaten by
phone calls
and paper work
and forms filled out
and prayers
and conversations
and soul-baring
and being so vulnerable
and eating humble pie
and taking all these lemons and making lemonade
until i am drunk on lemonade
and hung over from the tartness of it
and i am to the point where i detest lemonade
and still the lemons keep coming . . .

and there are days where i cry
and days where i clench fists and jaw
and days where i can call and accomplish
and days where i can't do anything and i have to ignore and turn off 

and it all takes time.

and then i find a log in my eye and i beg for forgiveness.

because just the other day,
i was hoping that when the notice of papers served on us
(the bank decided they don't like the way things are going here,
and they called our mortgage and served us sheriff's sale and foreclosure papers last tuesday),
i was hoping that when that notice gets printed in the local paper ,
that people would be able to have some compassion.
that maybe the gossips wouldn't feel the need to gossip about us .
that maybe there would be grace for a situation that no one knows anything about.
that maybe people wouldn't assume that it's been months and months and months
since we've made a mortgage payment;
because it hasn't been . . .

and then, there i am, with that log dragging along with me.

of course there are circumstances beyond anyone's control
in everyone's life, not just my own.
and who, under the great expanse of heaven, am i to judge? 

should that homeowner have to put a sign in front of their house
finishing the exterior of house on hold
due to debilitating accident
in order to be looked upon with grace and compassion?
should i have to put a sign in front of our house
property going into foreclosure
due to predatory lending practices 
in order to be looked upon with grace and compassion?

we have been doing our best these past three years.
we have tried to work with the bank, 
tried to stay in this house,
but since july of 2010 it has been very obvious that the bank does not want to work with us.  

at this point we are doing our best to finish out here with thoughtfulness and integrity.

thank goodness this house is only a shell for our family to have been at home in.

home is wherever the four of us are together and at peace; 
it's going to be in a different shell very soon.

and i don't want to drag any logs along with me.
i'm working very hard at leaving them behind.

grace and compassion are welcome companions
for the next leg of this journey.