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| Lydia . Kathryn . Andrew . Melanie . Alexa . Brooke |
'Oh, your family must be perfect,' a client sighed as she left a counseling session. Where she came up with that fallacy I'll never know, as our family is seldom if ever the topic of conversation in that sacred space. Not a chance, I told her. Just because grandma has a bunch of letters after her name doesn't mean that she or any of her kin have arrived. In any way, shape, or form.
We are a typical family in our struggles, our joys, our pain, our celebrations, our concerns, our hopes, our craziness.
This ain't no granny-blog. Here and there I've shared stories and pictures, but even though these six are the sunshine of my life, they don't appear too often in my writing. Some things are best left to cherish quietly deep inside, to be pondered and prayed over and not idly or casually broadcast. But a week doesn't pass when someone doesn't ask me about the gang, so here they are, barefoot in the dead of winter. I hear that no matching shoes were to be found.
I love this picture. You can bet it's front and center on my mantle. Everyone looks so perfect all lined up in their matching gear. Combed hair! All looking at the camera! Gently hugging each other! Talk about a rare event. But I hear that one of the shots featured one set of little hands in a death grip around a sibling's neck. And I'm sure that some level of bribery was required to pull this huge feat together.
We all live hours apart from each other and to have all twelve of us healthy and in one place is a rarity. Together, we've gone through the agony of brain surgery and the thrill of adoption. We've read endless piles of books and gathered up oodles of treasures on more walks than I can count. I've carried and soothed and fed, crooned and hugged and rocked by the hour. I've been known to speak rather sternly from time to time. We've painted and colored and created messy masterpieces on kitchen tables, and cuddled up in a tangle of arms and legs and very long hair to watch evening movies.
The name of Jesus is spoken and sung of often in this extended family. These little ones love Him so, and He's the golden thread that has woven our hearts tightly together.
This is my life. I love it. Even though I have been prostrate on the floor in grief or laid in bed awake for hours banging at heaven's door on behalf of one or the other. When it comes to issues, I try to keep quiet {not always possible, just ask my daughters} and pray til my heart is empty {the only thing I can really do that matters.}
So if you've got 10 minutes to spare, I'd love for you to pour yourself a glass of iced tea, settle in, and page through this online family scrapbook. Rejoice in birth announcements, catch some creative play days, and listen in on a few one on one conversations. There's a potpourri of random photo shoots, the miraculous brain surgery saga, some profound wisdom from little lips, and lots of laugh out loud craziness. You'll also run into a variety of other relations and ancestors who all meld together to form this rather imperfect tribe.
This is my family. And I love them.
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