Hilarity

I know I've said it before, but Camille is the most content baby I know.  She trends on the side of being a serious baby, but she loves to laugh.  And her belly laugh is music to my ears.  

On Campus

We went over to LSU on Sunday evening to let the girls run around and ride bikes.  We tried to visit Mike the Tiger, but he was busy protesting the heat by sleeping in the bushes.  It was a nice change of pace from a walk in the neighborhood in the evening and students aren't back yet, so it was pretty quiet and more importantly, traffic-less.  Here are a few pictures from our little outing:

redeemed

In the midst of it all, you live moment to moment, wondering how the rest of the world can just go on like everything is normal.  Things that once mattered become trivial; things that once were peripheral become central.

Finally, as the days go on, you find yourself moving forward.  Putting one foot in front of the other becomes doable and if you are anything like me, you begin to recognize your need to make sense of it all.  Surely this has deeper meaning, deeper impact, all of this labor and heartache must have something deeper for my life?  Right?   We want our pain, work, trial to be something more.  To mean something more.  To be bigger than my experience of it. And perhaps to even boldly hope it might bear some fruit.

The promise of redemption speaks to that desire.  Redemption says: "There is healing.  There is hope.  This was not all in vain."

To buy back, to repurchase is what the dictionary will tell you redemption means.  What struck me most when I first read that definition is that means that I have to let go of my grief -- loosen my hold.  Something can't be bought back from me if I insist on holding onto it.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mean that you have to "get over it"; the offensive phrase that is often said (or implied) with disdain when your grieving doesn't fit into another's preconceived notion of what is appropriate.  The best distinction for me is this:  I have to move forward, not move on.  Walk forward and accept that my lens is changed, my world is different now.

The hardship might be a lost relationship, a loss of a job, financial problems, an illness for you or your child, a strained relationship, the loss of a parent, the loss of a child.  We've all known difficulty in on way or another, you can fill in the blank with your own hardship.  Though the experiences and the people going through them are wildly different, the thread between them is constant: a longing for the pain to not be vain.

As I read through Isaiah in the Bible, chapter 35 has drawn me back again and again over the past several weeks.  It is a picture of coming redemption.  It offers promise that those seemingly dry, deserted places will not remain that way.  Verses 6-7 say:

Water will gush forth in the wilderness 
   and streams in the desert. 
The burning sand will become a pool, 
   the thirsty ground bubbling springs. 

For me, one of the most striking things about this truth is that not only does the life return to you when you allow redemption to do its work in you, but that your redemption can be life-giving to others.  The pool is filled, but it isn't filled just for itself.  It is filled to give water to others.  There is healing beyond measure when your pain can speak to another;  "[t]he way through the pain is to reach out to others in theirs."  (Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts. p. 199).   

So today, I'm praying for my own places of death can see life again, and I even will boldly pray that those places might give some measure of hope and healing to another.  

Tiny Desk Concerts

I've become a big fan of the Tiny Desk Concerts on NPR.  And just for fun, here are a few of my favorites:
update:  if you are reading this on Google Reader or another feed, you'll have to click over to read the original post to see the embedded player for each musician.  

Adele. Her voice speaks for itself. There's not a song on "21" that I don't like and the three songs she sings here are fab.


Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes. You have to watch them. Until you can't look anymore. Seriously, I love the music, but I'm mystified about the love-in-song-festival-ness going on.
(the video for this one won't embed, but you can click here to jump to the NPR page)


Abigail Washburn. The banjo has a special place in my heart after living in Tennessee and she plays it -- and sings -- beautifully.


The Civil Wars. I hadn't seen them actually perform before this and it makes me like them even more than I did when I only heard them sing before.



These are just a few of my most favs. I could add several more to the mix, but seriously, you probably don't want to see a list of twenty TDC videos on this blog that is primarily about my children.

So, if you're interested here's the link to the Tiny Desk Concerts page where you can find, or discover, some of your own favorites.

First Day!

Caroline started first grade today!

It was a great day.  She loves her teacher and being back in school.  It probably didn't hurt that she was the girl who brought cupcakes on the first day of school.  That's one sure way to endear yourself to other six year olds:  bring sugar for the class.

Jeff and I dropped her off this morning and she wasn't nervous or anxious at all, just really excited about a new class, new kids, a new teacher, and lots of learning ahead.  When I brought the cupcakes and stayed around the classroom until school was over, she was so happy to show me her classroom and tell me about all that they did today.  She was most impressed with "the big kid playground" where she saw all of her friends from last year.

Even though it was her birthday, we made sure she went off to bed as close to her normal bedtime as possible to get geared up to do it all over again tomorrow!

Sans cupcakes of course.

Here are a few pictures from our 6 year old's first day:

Six

Dear Caroline,

You entered the world weighing not quite seven pounds, but the weight of your life is immeasurable.  You captured my heart before I even saw your precious face.  But each day that has passed the last six years, you've captured it a little more.  

You've always been older than your age.  At nine months, you seemed more like a two year old.  You have wisdom and maturity that your Papa and I can only credit as gifts from God.  

You have a love for life that is contagious, a smile that can wipe away the worst mood, a laugh that invites others into your joy.  You love to play. 

You have energy, determination, and an adventurous spirit that is willing to try new things with a humble confidence that I've seen in few other people.  

You are smart and love to learn.  When I asked you what you were most excited about as you start the first grade tomorrow, you said, "Fast math!"  I am in awe of your talents and gifts and the way you can move seamlessly from playing with Barbies to working math problems for fun to dancing and singing your heart out.

You love to be outside.  Especially with your Papa.  Y'all are buddies who can always something to explore.

You are a fantastic older sister.  Charlotte and Camille are so blessed to have you.  Charlotte especially looks up to you so much, imitating everything you do.  You exhibit tremendous patience and restratint letting her play with you.  You are always my helper with your two sisters and I get compliments all the time about how much you give of yourself to them.  And to me and your Papa.




















You are beautiful inside and out.  You see beauty in others.  We were talking about a movie a week or so ago and you asked my why one of the characters was sad; I told you that she didnt' think she was special.  Without missing a beat, you exclaimed, "Of course she is special!  She is beautiful!  And mostly she is beautiful inside.  She needs to know that 'man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.'"  You teach me lessons like that all time.  You are kind and caring.  You are generous and love to serve others.

You have a love for drama, dance, and music that I pray we can continue to cultivate in you.  You love to dress up and have imparted that love to Charlotte.  One of the funniest activities y'all do together is to dress up and create mini-plays as princesses or super-heroes or cheerleaders.  The joy on your face when you are doing the things you love makes me happier than words can express.

Put simply sweet girl, you are the best.  I am so thankful to God that He allowed me to be your mother.  I pray every single day that He would give me and your Papa the grace to parent you well.  To love you fully and to help you become more of who He created you to be.  I had no idea the kind of love you'd give to me and the ways that you would mold me and teach me when I first kissed your face six years ago.  You are a gift.

Love,
Mama

The Cream Cheese Incident

I was in Nashville for several days and Jeff braved it alone in Baton Rouge with Caroline and Charlotte (Camille came with me). They had sandwiches from a bagel shop for lunch one day and Charlotte apparently took a real liking to the cream cheese dip that came with the bagel chips. Jeff said it was too funny to get angry and had this photographic evidence of her shenanigans waiting for me when I returned home.

I love this girl.