Our Luke, His Lamb.

January 26th
2 years ago.... 

Dyson had just finished celebrating his 5th birthday.  I was tucking him in and kissing him good-night while saying a final "Happy birthday little buddy." He looked at me with big eyes and a satisfied grin and settled into his blankie ready for a good night sleep. It was around 8:30pm.  

Little did I know, just on the other side of town, Rick and Katie too were supposed to be tucking their little guy in. Instead they were being thrust into a nightmare that would forever change their lives.

ABOUT 13 YEARS AGO.....

Rick and Katie met in college at SDSU.  Having been raised in good Christian homes, they both were incredibly thankful for God's presence in their lives.  Rick came from Aberdeen and Katie from Pierre.  After a few smiles exchanged in the dormatory lounge area, Rick mustered up the courage to take the first step in getting to know Katie, through a simple note left in her mailbox.

The rest is history.  They married shortly after and moved to the Sioux Falls area.

Katie, being in pharmacy completed further schooling, where Rick found a great job at Scotts Lumber and has been working ever since. A few years into their marriage they discovered they were expecting their first child, and although not due until the end of January, little Luke was born several weeks early by induction due to preclamsia. At first a scare, all was well.... and nothing stole a mothers heart more than finally seeing the face of her first baby. 

They named him

Luke Alan.

As Luke grew up in size, so did the hearts of everyone who knew him.  He loved to dance. He loved his farm animals, his dinosaurs and Thomas the Train. Even more he loved cars and Lightning McQueen. Yes, Lightning McQueen... the car, Pajamas, birthday theme, underwear and all.  Dude, no poking fun. They were cool, yo.

He loved his blankie, best cuddled with when sucking his thumb. He loved his friends, his neighbors and preschool. He loved tractors. Not just any tractor. John Deere. He loved his neighbor buddy Grant and he loved to nurture his mom, from getting her blankets while she sat on the couch, to picking her "flowers" in his Thomas Pajamas.

He was a momma's boy to the core.  He was in her heart more than she realized one could ever fill. 

And not only did he steal his the heart of his momma, he also stole the hearts of his father and grandparents. They loved him as much as they thought possible. Memories forever cherished, especially on the farm. Oh, how he loved the farm.

This squirmy little peanut also loved his sister Lydia, who came into his life when he was only three. The minute she came home he was waiting for her at the door, not a jealous bone in his body. He was going to protect her. He was going to be caring and kind.  Only once, on the way to the doctor did he ask "Are they going to put her back in your tummy, Mom?" :)

Luke was definitely Lydia's little "knight in shining armor".  And I would say that she was quite proud of him herself.....

Life was perfect.  Luke had everything any child could ever want. From loving parents and grandparents to cousins, corn dogs and ice cream. From Easter egg hunts and life on grandpa's farm, the little boy couldn't have had a happier life.

They had a beautiful home built by dad himself.  Luke, a custom built room just for him. Katie, a job at Lewis in pharmaceutics, which she enjoyed...and Rick loved his job.  They had one boy and one girl. To top it off, they had salvation.

The love of Christ filled their home.

There was nothing but gratitude in the hearts of these parents.  Katie knew it and said to her husband, "Honey, just look at all of this. We are so so blessed." 

Thursday, January 12th rolls around and Luke is turning four!  Being the momma's boy he was, he had every finger wrapped around her heart. On this day, he spent it in a big way, going on a date with Katie.  She found no greater joy than giving good gifts to the one she loved.  On this day, they drove to the Children's Museum in Brookings. 

The happiest place a four year old kid could could ever be!

What a day.  But nothing compared to the day Luke would shortly have before him.....

A few weeks later, on Wednesday night, January 25th,  Rick was tucking Luke into bed.  But this night was different.  Luke was incredibly fascinated with the "My First Catechism" Book. The squirmy little guy typically wouldn't sit still but tonight he placed his tiny finger on every picture and asked, "Daddy, what is this...and what is that?" 

What typically was a 10 minute routine turned into a half hour. The heart of a tired working father, patiently reflected the Heavenly Father. A time Rick was just ready to go to bed, he instead...

Lovingly answered every question. 
Explained every symbol.  
Taught the trinity...the lamb. 
The cross. The golden streets.

They talked, and talked.
And talked.

Finally, good-night, little buddy.  Rick walked upstairs and Katie's eyebrows rose, "What took so long?"  Rick smiled, "He just wouldn't stop asking questions!"  Several hours later, Rick was winding down while watching T.V. and heard a little voice, "Daaaad?"  

What in the world? Rick wondered. Walking to his bedroom, Rick found his precious son still awake with even more questions unanswered. 

....before that great and dreadful day of when the Lord comes, he will turn the hearts of the father toward his children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers.... Malachi 4:5b-6

THE NEXT DAY.

Rick had picked up the kids from daycare. It was a cold winter day. Just a few hundred feet from their house, Luke watched as the town of Brandon was being covered with fresh snow. He asked, "Is it Christmas dad?"  Rick explained, "No. But why do we have Christmas?"

Luke responded, 

"Jesus was born, so that He could grow up big like you, daddy.  

So he could hang on the cross so I don't have to. He's our Savior.

Someday I will go be with Jesus where everybody is happy." 

Two hours later the bedtime routine begins.  Katie is at work, it's around 6:30 pm. Luke's taking a bath like any other four-year old kid around Brandon, that night. Splashing, playing, enjoying life, and blowing bubbles in the water while their mom or dad is in the distance, watching football or doing the dishes. 

But in this particular home, Rick hears the water shut off and soon goes to check on him. And as he enters....the water is still. For someday, was today.

As I sat in their home talking with Rick, he went on to share how he couldn't explain what he felt. He almost hesitated to share because it sounded well, crazy. But he said, "In that moment I felt the angels. I felt peace."

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding 
will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. 
Phil 4:7

The water was still. And so was his heart.  

Unknown at the moment that Luke had most likely drown as a result of an unexpected seizure, all Rick knew was that his son was gone. And in that moment, he felt an odd sense of relief for his son, knowing he was in heaven. 

But it didn't take long before his heart panicked as he thought about his beautiful bride and the pain this would bring her. And Lydia, his precious daughter. This was her brother. Her best friend. How could this be happening?!

For Katie, it was very different.  She received the phone call that forever changed her life. There was no stillness. Only panic. Shock, anger, pain and confusion. While sitting in the hospital her pastor repeatedly and gently whispered truth over her shattered heart.....  

I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. 
I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. 

Katie didn't believe it.  But Pastor claimed it.  
And to this day, Katie has lived it. 

TODAY.

As I sat and listened to this heart breaking story, I asked how there marriage handled it.  He replied, "On my bad days, Katie has good days... and so on." I saw Rick and felt the Spirit say, Rick is the rock of this family. He stood on Me and continues to stand. 

And I heard the Hymnal hum inside my heart... 

On Christ the Solid Rock I stand. 
All other ground is sinking sand. 
All other ground is sinking sand.

And Katie? She is strengthened.

A heart shattered but no longer scattered. Still broken and bruised, but no longer bleeding. Her perspective forever changed. She looks at Lydia, now three, with eyes of gratitude and shares, "She was my reason to get out of bed in the morning. One day I will tell her how much she helped me."  

Looking at Katie, I see a woman who had once experienced a life filled with nothing but blessings and everything perfect...to suddenly having her world shatter before her, her son ripped from her arms, with no chance to say good-bye. 

And as she talks about her insecurities of walking around town, feeling like she's making everyone uncomfortable, my heart breaks and I want to take this opportunity to encourage all readers... If you know of a mother who has lost a child, please know she only gets uncomfortable when she notices you are.

She wants to hear her child's name. 
She wants to talk about her baby.  
She wants to share memories. 
They bring joy, not sadness.

Katie shared how in the moment of that horrible night, their driveway filled with the chaos of medical cars, police, helicopters and flashing lights...their neighbors stood from a distance watching, praying and wondering what in the world was going on.

In the midst of Rick's peace, and Katie's turmoil from a near distance, unknown to them, there stood a three year old child watching and then suddenly said, "Look! I see Luke going up to heaven!"

Out of the mouths of babes and infants, you have established strength...

Psalm 8:2

Yes, the faith of a child can see and hear many things that we do not. (Matt 11:25, Matt 21:16, 1 Corinthians 1:27)

Then I saw Katie light up when she talked about her fresh perspective of living in today. She looked at Lydia and said, "Today I could careless where they grow up and work, whether it's WalMart, or whatever. All that matters is that they are in heaven.  That is my purpose in life now.  To make sure my children will be in heaven."

Speaking of child(ren)...Yes, God smiled upon them.  One year later, Rick and Katie were blessed with a healthy and beautiful baby boy.

Isaiah Luke.
Born on 3-14-13

Resting on Luke's special blankie.

And here, Lydia, now the big sibling (although not quite as protective as Luke was :) is carrying out her "new role" as best as she can.  

Filled with nothing but smiles, love and laughter.

So for now, it is what it is.  They are doing their best, as best as they can be. There are good days. There are bad days.  But with each passing day, the hard days are less and the better days more.  God has been faithful in every way. 

Luke's favorite song was "I am Jesus' Little Lamb".  He had it memorized and sang it frequently to his little sister, Lydia.

I am Jesus' little lamb, ever glad at heart I am; For my Shepherd gently guides me, knows my need, and well provides me, Loves me ev'ry day the same, he even calls me by my name. Day by day, at home, away, Jesus is my staff and stay. When I hunger, Jesus feeds me, into pleasant pastures leads me; When I thirst, he bids me go where the quiet waters flow. Who so happy as I am, even now the Shepherd's lamb? And when my short life is ended, by his angel host attended, He shall fold me to his breast, there within his arms to rest Ironically, after Luke passed away, it came clear to Rick and Katie... Luke Alan Melius. LAM.  And just like the words of his favorite song: When his short life was ended. By angel host attended. He shall fold Luke to his breast. There within his arms... Luke Rests.

The Single Mom.

I read the story of Abram in the Bible the other morning, and I smiled for all the single moms.  

God promised him and his wife (in their super super old age) that they would have as many children/grandchildren as the stars.  Sarai laughed and Abram believed.  They had no children, but those child rearing days were far far from over.

However, although Abram believed what God told him, he also felt impressed to take the timing (and the means of carrying out this promise) into his own hands. Don't we all?  I mean, come on. God didn't exactly specify when or who would have the baby, right? 

So what did Abram do?  He got his young slave girl pregnant.  That seemed more logical right? Well, that wasn't God's way or plan at all.  And although Hagar, the slave girl, has a baby boy named Ishamael, God still delivers his promise in the way He intended (God is far from logical!).

So just as God promised, Sarai (the old lady) has a boy named Isaac. Well, darn it.  If Abram was just patient, all would have been well!

Isn't that the truth.

But it wasn't well. Not one bit. Now we have a young mom Hagar and her son, Ishmael caught in the middle of Abram's mess. Fast forward. Now (because of the wife's desire, not Abram's) the young single mom is kicked out and left wandering in the desert alone and hungry with her son.

All you single moms out there, I'm sure you know exactly how Hagar was feeling. Questions such as:

How will we make it alone?

How could he abandon us like this??

This was never the life I imagined!

My child needs a father! What am I to do?!

And here is God's word to you:

When the water was gone she put the boy under one of the bushes and sat down about a bowshot away, for she thought, 'I cannot watch the boy die.' As she sat there she began to sob.  

God heard the boy crying and the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven. He said to her, "What is the matter, Hagar? Do not be afraid; God has heard the boy crying as he lies there.  Lift the boy up and take him by the hand for I will make him into a great nation."

Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water.  She went and filled the skin with water and gave the boy a drink. God was with the boy as he grew up.  He lived in the desert and became an archer.

Do not be afraid, single parent.  God hears your cry.  

Lift your heart. 

Lift your life and lift your children up to Him.

And He will make them great!

But unlike Abram you must be persistently patient in all your prayers.  As you wait on God to supply all your needs, believe! For He who promises is faithful!

Born With A Mission.

This morning while having coffee with my husband, we talked about all the broken people hating Christmas this year.

I think of my high school friend who expected an engagement ring last week and instead he broke up with her. Really?! He left her and her 8 year old son weeping, in a blanket of tears. Yet, they have hope.

I think of the many mothers I know who are grieving spending Christmas without their precious sons. All having been lost tragically, at different times, ages baby to teens. Yet, they have hope.

I think of the mothers and wives who approached Jer and I this week for prayer, suffering the fact that their husband had recently left their family.  Yet, they have hope.

I think of the young mom who messaged me this week, brokenhearted having just suffered a miscarriage.  Yet, she has hope.

I think of the Brittany, a Northwestern College girl, who is suffering her first Christmas without her loving parents, and her loving brother and sister, who were tragically killed in a car accident outside of Sioux Falls this year. Can you imagine?

I can not. I just can't.  Yet, even she has hope.  Why do they all have hope?  Because they believe in the true meaning of the season.

Tears fill my eyes.  We think of Christmas as a time of warm-fuzzy's, sparkling cider, glowing fires and family and friends.  But honestly, it's just not. We live in a broken and dark world. A very hurting world.  And I feel that God whispered to my heart this morning, a word for the brokenhearted. 

I believe He said, 

Tell the world that Christmas is not about what they see. 

It's about what they don't see. 

Tell them it's for them. The broken and desperate.

Tell them at Christmas they were on my mind.

Tell them Christmas was for Easter.

Tell them Easter was to set the broken free....if they believe.

So here, I am. On a morning that I'm typically bustling, but instead trusting that God is speaking hope and restoration to a broken heart out there somewhere.

He wants you to know that it's all delusive. Surreal. Family, friends, sparking cider and fireplaces are wonderful.  And that's exactly what my own beautiful family will be doing tonight and the rest of the week. However, why do we say that it's not about the presents, Santa, or Elf on the Shelf, but instead about love, family and friends?

If Christmas is about family, then where does that leave Brittany when her entire family is killed? 

If Christmas is about family and friends, then where does that leave the homeless person or the orphan child?

No. 

Christmas is about Christ.

Christmas is about the Cross.

Christmas is about God's gift to the broken, hurting and lost.

Of course there is one very important disclaimer:  

A gift can only be given, when received.  

Receive His gift of salvation...and you will be free.

But Jesus came not to be served, but to serve and to give his life up as a ransom for many.

Mark 10:45

For God so loved the world that He gave His Only Son.  So that anyone who believes in Him will not perish, but have eternal life. 

John 3:16

Seeing the Light.

Awhile back my husband shared that statistically depression rates have increased ever since Facebook and Pinterest were established. Everyone looks at the next person's life or talents and think they have it so much better. The truth is...that is a lie.

Let me tell ya, there's no reason to sink into depression after looking at any of this. Of course people will post the awesome things and hide the hell. I've been thinking about my posts and I try my best to always be encouraging.  There is enough negativity in this world....so why contribute to it? I thought about my posts - mainly about my kids and their awesome kid comments, like the latest one from Adalie:

"Momma, your eyes look like the sun."

Smiling, I ask "Why do you say that, silly?"

She responds, "Because you have lines here...and here...and here.....".

Awesome.

Or the time my son asked, while in McDonalds drive thru....

"Are we getting a  happy meal mom?"

"No."

"Seriously?! Does that mean we have to get a sad meal?!"

In the midst of everything I post, the truth is we have had one of the most broken years of our life.  But the funny part is only a few select people have truly known.  How is this for Mrs. Awesome "vomit everything to anyone who will listen" type woman? And in writing blogs like this: (see Dyson) I force my mind on positive and uplifting things.  Like a special kid who won't necessarily fit in with the football jocks and instead says things like this:

"Mom, I'm proud of the way God made me."

"Why buddy?"

"Well, Kasiah likes to dance.  Adalie likes to eat.  And I like...to invent things!"

Priceless.

P.S. Here is a follow-up to that post on Dyson for all of you who have been dying to see his finished product I'm sure...

Sorry for that bunny trail. What I'm getting at is this: No matter who's life you might be reading about I'm almost certain their life is no better than yours. Their talents are no better than yours. Everyone has a story. Absolutely everyone.

In this moment of being real, my story is this:

Up until very recently I have been deeply deeply broken. My husband as well. I have enough respect for him and myself to spare the details.  And things certainly were incomparable to the living nightmare back in 2006. But let's just put it this way, in February I received one horrific facebook message that was the very turning point in our entire marriage.  It was evil and dropped my every being to the floor in a heap of hot tears and anger. But it was the very thing that led Jer and I down the most beautiful road I could have ever imagined.

Although the years from 2010 - spring 2012 were what I'd call a season of renewal and restoration in our marriage, I was not ready to endure the brokenness once more.  But God never promised in scripture permanent restoration in renewal in anyone's life.  That would be called heaven.

While on earth, our lives will constantly be sprinkled with season's of brokenness and seasons of restoration.
Well, at least for those who are truly desiring to live a life God's called them to live, I should say.  The truth is, if you're not a threat to Satan, he won't be a threat to you.  It reminds me of my pastors words today:

"Suddenly Saul, who thought he knew everything was finding himself in a situation where he knew nothing.  It was only then that he became truly able to hear God's voice."

You see, I was quite comfy in my season of restoration.  And I thought I had everything figured out as to why my husband had the affairs in the past and struggled with pornography. I thought I was past so much of that. Had forgiven the girls, forgiven him. And although I had... what I didn't realize I had done was stuff a lot of pain out of fear of how he would react to what I was truly feeling.

This pain affected me in many ways that I didn't even realize. I also didn't have the opportunity to truly sift through the rocky soil of my heart during those years because I was too busy having several babies, miscarriages, job changes and house moves.  We were in fast forward mode. Certainly not enough time to truly truly dig.

And now here I was, 7 years later in a heap of tears, alone in my apartment, snow on the ground and three little children needing my attention.  Let's just say Mr.Movies and Pizza Hut delivery made a killing for a couple days as I was unable to function.

And I was mad. I was mat at God. I was mad that He was calling me to quietly keep this in my heart when I so badly wanted to feel supported.  And God said, "No. The church is needed for such a time as this, yes. But for you and Jeremy in this moment, I am saying no."

So I and Jeremy moved forward, as best as we could and God began (very slowly) to shed light on what we were truly truly dealing with.  We thought we knew what we had dealt with, but suddenly we found ourselves dealing with the truth.  And the truth hurts.  And the truth is setting us free.

Jeremy and I celebrated our 10 year anniversary on June 21st this past summer.  Reflecting back, I'll be honest.  We've had more days of hell than happiness.  Both him and I have dealt with many many hurts. Both him and I have stuffed over the years many many things.  But God has been providing a way out of all of this pain.  He has been recultivating the soil of our hearts, in which rocks had been buried for years were raised to the surface. It was so painful. So so painful.  But slowly we are being renewed day by day and finally in these past several weeks I am starting to see the light at the end of that dark and deep tunnel.  A tunnel filled with prayers in which we thought God would never ever answer.  A tunnel filled with unknowns, confusion, and emptiness.  A tunnel in which we were blind and all we could truly do was rely on God to hold our hands and lead us through the dark.

Last Saturday felt like a monumental turning point in our marriage. September 28th, 2013.  I'll never forget the day.  Our 10 year anniversary was past, and although a great weekend, it still felt like a dark weekend.  But now, things were getting brighter.

This particular morning I woke up greeted by coffee and a rose.  Jeremy had lined up the entire day to bless me. At each blessing was a rose that led me to the next blessing.  They consisted of getting my hair done, a massage, shopping with a friend, nails, a mini photo shoot of just the two of us, dinner downtown Sioux Falls, walking Falls Park and coming home.  And just when I thought it was over, he presented the 12th rose to me which revealed something I've been dreaming to do every since the day we returned from our Honeymoon in 2002:  A tropical trip this February (we're still deciding where).

It was as if Jeremy was asking, will you join me in a new tomorrow?

And I thought about everything that led up to that point and I wanted to scream, "Jeremy, we did it! We survived this last stretch!" And I thought about my friends, my sisters.  Those beautiful women in my life who made that day possible working behind the scenes, taking the kids, and so on.  It was like the perfect picture of what Paul wrote about to the believers in 1 Thesselonians 5:11 - Therefore encourage one another and build each other up. 

Girls....if you are reading this, I want you to know...you have no idea what that day truly meant to me.  It was a mark - a symbol - like a renewal of vows - declaring a new day.

I know overall, we will have many days of brokenness ahead. Heck, we don't even have teenagers yet.  However, we will enjoy feeling lavished today.

And for those of you who are feeling alone in that dark and lonely tunnel.  Be encouraged, for if you are seeking God it is impossible to remain where you are. Psalm 40:2-3 promises that He will lift you out of the mud and mire, whatever that might be.

Just hold on.
For happy days of restoration do await you.  As for Jeremy and I, we are finally once more enjoying the light.  :)

Update...a Rainbow of Hope.

A beautiful update on my previous blog, Asher Eugene. On Sunday, family and friends joyfully welcomed:

. 

Elijah James Allen

And my favorite....

Amen.

He Desires Me.

Years ago, my old pastor talked about Proverbs 22:6: Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.

One of the points he made about this scripture regarding "in the way he should go" was that it didn't say "in the way you think he should go." If you were a star football player, but your boy would rather play piano then as humbling as it may be, ditch the football practice and sign him up for piano.

So now we have Dyson.  

A 6 year old son whom I have bravely chosen to homeschool.  It's been the first week of school and I've already found I'm in for a ride. He is sooo far away from my "sit down and be studious" type 7 year old daughter.

Dyson is well....unique.  He'll play football. But he'd rather invent things. Or destroy things. For example, this is a bike inside of a small cardboard box (see below).  Yes, he took a screw driver and tore it apart. Spokes and all... and then declared "Mom, since we live in such a small space, now we have more room!"

He'll sit for...ummm...30 seconds to do his writing assignment, but then after about 3 letters, I've lost him.  I looked at Jeremy (my 32 year old Dyson) and I asked, "How in the world did you get through school?"  He responded, "I didn't. I slept through every class except shop, because I was so bored."

So, I'll have to be content with three letters, and work for the four tomorrow. I'm going to have to lean on God's wisdom on a daily (or hourly?) basis.  Speaking of hourly, tonight was an hour I thought I had off from the "school teacher" role.  I was wrong.

My husband was roofing and I'm sitting at home. I had spent the entire day doing laundry, preparing for school the next week, scrubbing toilets, grocery shopping, and doing everything that needed to get done so that I could enjoy a day of rest tomorrow. You get my drift.  It was now late and I had mentally checked out. I was ready to grab myself a Mr. Pibb, huge bowl of ice-cream and find something on T.V.  

The next thing I hear is Dyson storming in the house, anger on his face and arms crossed. "MOM! That did NOT go the way I had planned!" Welcome to reality.

He brought me out to the garage and I saw this: 

 Above is the box that was hanging from the string below.

 And below is the broom stick that was hitting the box that was hanging from the string above.

You got it folks. Dyson was playing "piñata," and dang it! It DID NOT GO THE WAY HE HAD PLANNED!!

The next thing I know he is asking the dreaded question, "How do you make a piñata, mom?"

Oh no.  Oh no oh no oh no. I knew what this meant. The last thing I wanted to do was jump on this teachable homeschool moment of an art class that had dropped right into my lap. Could have I said, "we'll figure it out next week, buddy."  Sure. But I knew in my heart now was the time.  With Dyson, especially with Dyson, you take advantage of any teachable moment you get.  Because the stars don't always align for him during normal "school hours".

I sooooo didn't want to.  The thought of the T.V. and an ice cold Mr. Pibb sounded sooooo much more fun.  But the next thing I know we are watching YouTube video's on how to make a piñata and I find myself making paper mache paste out of boiling water and flour, digging through his "this is trash, but Dyson will probably use it for something" bin to pull out a phone book (for it's pages) and a used balloon.

And here we go....

Piñata Making
PHASE 1: 

Yup. Jer came home, walked through the garage and said, "What the heck?"  You'll never know what good things will flow out of our weird son.  We're just along for the ride. I responded, "He is making a piñata. Don't touch it! It needs to dry overnight."

So here we are, encouraging Dyson to express his thoughts through his hands, and trusting it will glorify God in the end.  In this case, he plans to bring glory to God at his birthday party by celebrating himself - Psalm 139, right? Yup.

AND - Did you know that the piñata was created to represent evil? Sin is enticing and attractive, but the reward for those who beat the crap out of it (God vs. Satan) and not give up is an outpouring of gifts and blessings from above A.K.A. CANDY! BAM!

And just think, I could have chosen to gain 5 pounds through Mr. Pibb and ice cream instead of learning all of this.  Rock on.

Anyway, I'll post the end result here in a week or so. But right now he is 25% of the way done (75% ugly and 25% colorful).  After hours of gluing strips of construction paper on, he announced to me with great exhaustion, "Mom, I think I'm going to like my piñata just the way it is."

What he meant to say was, "This sucks and I quit." But leave it to Dyson to be positive.

I'm going to figure something out to help him finish strong. But until then, you'll just have to wait for the end result...and I'm positive you're just dying with excitement to see....

But for now when reflecting on all of this, I am reminded of how God works with me.  He is not just available during school hours. Unlike myself, he is waiting to jump on teachable moments and does not feel inconvenienced when they appear.

There is no bad timing on God's end.  I am so grateful I have a father who is waiting by my side to speak, teach and spend time with me at any given moment. He doesn't say, "just a minute." He doesn't cringe inside desiring some space. He doesn't even just tolerate me...

He desires me. And for that, I am grateful.