Feet in the Air Faith

Last month we took a little trip. Life had been so crazy the last few months with illness, new schools, sports, friends, work, church, fill in the blank....There was this calm in the storm, a moment when the skies seemed to be clearing and Ryan and I decided to book a trip to the Great Wolf Lodge. We planned it a few weeks in advance planning on Ryan feeling better and everyone being ready to celebrate an easier way of life and have fun making memories. As the date drew closer, we quickly realized that the clouds weren't exactly clearing and the skies were not very blue, life's storms weren't quite done with us yet. We couldn't back out and so we decided to make the most of it. The boys were so excited. Garrett had been writing GWL on the calendar every month for quite some time hoping to trick us into going and the boys were ready to experience it for the first time ever. Meanwhile,  Ryan and I were holding our breath and just praying that we wouldn't drown. We started out in the morning and things were going ok. I had packed us all rather last minute but we were as ready as we could be. Ryan was not feeling great at all and car rides tended to be somewhat torturous for him but he was braving the elements and trucking along (a little too fast according to the polite police woman from Ohio). Regardless of our unwanted pitstop with "Miss Policegirl", as G called her, we kept going.  The kids were getting antsy and hungry but we just wanted to arrive and get settled as quickly as we could. About an hour out, I realized that my hands were literally hurting from wringing them so much. I felt so much anxiety over how we were going to do this with Ryan not feeling good and with G and a place we had never been and without a backup plan or second string. My worries were just plowing through my mind. I kept praying but I couldn't find my peace. Then, with only about 30 minutes left, I turned around and laughed. While I was on the verge of a mega meltdown, my G had fallen asleep. I took a picture because he hadn't just fallen asleep, he had his feet propped up and blanket pulled up high. He looked like the very essence of peace. It struck me immediately that what G was showing me was "feet in the air kind of faith". His excitement, his anticipation should have been through the roof but instead he was stretched out almost upside down, relaxed and resting. That is the very picture of the upside down faith of a child. He was worry-free. He had faith that we would get him there. He had faith that he would be safe. Faith that he wouldn't be left behind or miss out. Maybe somewhere inside his crazy head, he even realized that he might need to rest up a bit for whatever was coming. G teaches me things everyday but this has to be one of my favorite lessons. Feet in the air kind of faith, no worries, no struggles, just resting in it. It stuck with me, grew roots and I knew that God had more to add to this one.

I have struggled with certain fears for most of my life. Fear of the unknown, fear of what life may bring, fear of not making it through. Lately, these fears have pushed me to new limits. I'm tired and worn and yet unable to rest, too many thoughts, too many worries. I have to believe that I am not alone in this battle. I know that other hearts feel heavy and burdened and can't find their peace because the skies never seem to clear enough, the storm clouds just keep coming. We worry about things we don't know because what we do know is already more than we can bear.  We get anxious over the state of the world we live in and don't even get us started on our kids, that's a whole new terrifying level of worry.The what ifs and the uncertainties of life make us wring our hands and seem to strangle our hearts. It's not even that we don't have faith, it's more like we just can't focus on it because we are too tired to look, at least I feel that way sometimes. Like tonight, my mind wouldn't stop and my schedule and life wouldn't allow my body to stop and then a friend offered to make me dinner. She sent me a quick text and her last three words were "don't say no". It reminded me of G and his feet in the air. I wanted to tell her no, that we would be fine. I didn't want to be a burden or a bother, but I couldn't. It was as if God spoke through those last three words of hers and said, "Rach, sit down. Prop your feet up and take a rest. Have a little faith that no matter what tomorrow brings, I've got it and I'll get you there safe and sound. Just put your feet up and have faith."

As adults, we can't help but anticipate and, often, our anticipation becomes anxiety and worry filled. The world we live in isn't easy and just surviving it is sometimes hard enough. We get tired because of sleepless nights and non stop days. We feel like we can't put our feet up and rest because we don't even have time to sit down. Sometimes we need a reminder to not say no and, always, we need to remember to have faith. Why not combine it all? Why not take a seat, settle in, prop our feet up, pull our blankets up to our chins and rest in our faith? Feet in the air faith can handle sickness. It has finances wrapped up tight. Elections cant shake it, and neither can every other thing we can throw at it. It's an absolute hope in our God who knows it all and has it all under control. He has big plans and storms clouds lead to rainbows in his story. He has no fear and his love is boundless. He is the I am who has always been and will always be. We can let him have it all. We can trust Him completely. What I am going to do, and I have to suggest the same to you is to go ahead, friend, grab a blanket and settle into a comfy chair. Prop up those tired feet and have a little faith. Now, keep going, take this moment and find your peace and then close your eyes and rest in it all. We all could use that kind of faith sometimes. Feet in the air faith. It's upside down. It's child-like. It's faith. And it is taught to you, and me, by my little G-man.

Valleys Fill First

This morning we forgot our shoes. We pulled up the the drop off line. We had prayed. We had our backpacks. We had reviewed our new motto of "zero meltdowns, and get our work done". We had talked about reading all the questions on our tests. We were even discussing a book G was reading in the backseat about our friend Flat Stanley. And then, as I pulled up and began the daily "I love you" and "have a great day", I turned around and realized that G was not only shoeless but his shoes were not even in the car. Sometimes, we do it all right, only to still get it wrong. That's life and living it can be hard and frustrating and scary but that's ok.

I heard a song this week as I was running and it had a line that struck me. It said, " so I'm down in the valley,  but valleys fill first". I have spent alot of time lately feeling like I am struggling to get over one mountain only to find a bigger one the other side. My job has had hiccups. My kids have had loads of changes that we have needed to adapt to. My husband is trying his best to feel better. In one week, we forgot shoes once, a lunchbox twice,  and to change pants before church on Sunday morning. NOTHING has been easy or simple. So I was running one day and I heard that line and I realized that the valleys in life at least have that going for them, when the rain finally comes, they will be the first to be filled. It made me laugh. It gave me comfort. I'm not down here alone and forgotten, I'm just waiting on the rain.

The rain in life can take different forms. I would love to think that it always makes itself known with easy days, happy transitions, health and good times. Picture a commercial where the family is gathered around laughing and playing scrabble, that is the rain I want. Those houses are always clean. Their lunches are safe and packed in their backpacks. Their shoes are waiting by the door. They have eaten three healthy balanced meals and they are not only happy but also healthy. They pray before bed and then the littles fall quickly asleep while the mom and dad enjoy snuggles on the porch swing. They never forget anything, especially pants!

My rain looks totally different. My rain last week was that when we realized that we had forgotten the shoes, we didn't meltdown. We dropped off the one who remembered shoes. We drove on home and got the misplaced ones. We took the time for a brief and mostly ignored lecture and we laughed. We pulled back into the drop off line and said "I love you" and we moved on with our day. My rain looks like laughing over doing church in our jammy shorts and dress shirt. It laughs at the nerf gun in the backseat, the constantly misplaced glasses, the gluten-free dinner that bombed and the vet bill because the dog ate something not digestable. My rain is always running late which is why I am as well and why I  rarely take time to do my hair or put on makeup, other than at red lights (at least they are good for something besides just making me later). My rain is not typical but when it comes, I am abundantly satisfied.

At the end of the week, a typical crazy-insane-nutty-long week, we were all in the car headed to a soccer game and I felt a little of that rain. The car was messy and dirty but quiet. The kids had pizza for lunch but were drinking water and reading. Ryan felt up to going with us and I was just enjoying the moment, when I read another beautiful line in a book I was reading. It said, "one sees great things from the valley; only small things from the peak" That quote is so perfect and true. My view lately has been looking up at the big, the scary, the hard. I push myself. I push my kids. I pray for strength and perseverance. I climb, scratch, crawl my way up but I need to always remember to take a moment and enjoy the view. The biggest things look tiny from the top. The valleys will fill and the rain will come. We will conquer all our mountains, as great as they may seem from down here, and they will always be worth the effort. Thank God that our valleys fill first!

What if I'd Known...

God woke me up the other night. I say it was Him because I know it was Him. I woke in the middle of the night with a question burning in my heart and my mind. It begged to be answered and refused to go away. The question that He was asking me was, "What if you had known?" I tried to shrug it off but sleep wouldn't return until I asked and honestly answered for myself. Would I do it different, would I change anything, if I'd known? I sat up and let it roll around inside me. I searched my heart and by brain and I let my tears fall as I was made certain of my reply. I asked myself about it all and dug for the truthful answer...

What if I'd known that that first date would turn into a lifetime? What if I'd known about the good, the bad, and the ugly? The easy laughs and often unspoken words? His fear of needles? What if I'd known about all the shirts and dress pants I'd have to iron, which I hate doing? What if I'd known that he would rise before most of the neighborhood and take with him my chance of ever sleeping in again? What if I'd known about his fear of heights and his love of research? What if I'd known that promising through sickness and health wasn't a guarantee of health? What if I'd known about the things that make me tick like the hair in the sink and six string instrument that would become like an extremity to him? What if I'd known that his t-shirt collection would only continue to grow and that he would expect me to match his socks? What if I'd known that he would never pick a romance over an action film or volunteer to read our devotional at night? What if I'd known that he hates sleeping on the couch while I love it? What if I'd known how much smarter than me he really was? How much my babies would admire him? What if I'd known that I would come to depend on him like air? What if I'd known that he would never understand the female brain or like jeggings and other fashion trends? What if I'd known about his cheesy midday texts and how much more he likes the dog than the rest of us do? What if I'd known that he would encourage me and challenge me and love me and annoy me all at the same time? Would I still promise until the day I die and give my very self to him?

What if I'd known that there would only be sons? What if I'd known that the moment that first little boy opened his eyes he would steal a part of my heart? What if I'd known that those boys would just keep coming and keep taking a part of me with them? What if I'd known that they would get louder as they got older? What if I'd known that they would love toots and dirt? What if I'd known that they would never tire before exhausting me? What if I'd known that bedtime books and prayers would replace any television show and that I wouldn't even miss it? What if I'd known that the stinky boy smell would permeate my car, my home, every part of my life? What if I'd known that I would fear for them more than I ever did for myself and that I would pray for them with every breath some days? What if I'd known about the jumping, the running? What if I'd known about the sock obsession and all the underpant varieties? What if I'd known about the ever present ring of dirt in my precious bathtub? And the dog? That dog really could be the swaying factor! What if I'd known that there would be days when I would want nothing more than ten minutes boy-free, but those same days they would need me even more? What if I'd known that one of them never makes it to the toilet when he is sick and that the other wants his back scratched when I have just sat down? What if I'd known that you would want to have important life conversations while I am in the middle of making dinner? What if I'd known about the autism and the therapies and the struggles and the triumphs? What if I'd known how they would change me and grow me beyond what I could imagine? Would I change any of it, if I'd known?

As I rolled over and buried my tear stained cheeks in my pillow and prayed through it all, all I could say was "no".  No, I wouldn't change a thing, even if I'd known. I would do it all again, every painful and beautiful and hard and wonderful moment again. This life is mine and I would never want to change it. I'm not sure how much time passed but eventually my tears subsided and I felt God's peace leading me back to sleep and I knew that He had woken me so that I would know and He would know, and that would help us both through wherever He took me. The next morning as I lay in bed listening to my love shower and snuggling with one of my littles, I was overcome with the awesomeness of the midnight awakening and how much joy and strength it gave me. As I climbed out of bed and prepared to make my husband's breakfast and pack his lunch, I looked at him and I told him, "you know, even if I'd known it all, I wouldn't change it." He looked at me and words passed in his look without him speaking a thing and I knew that he needed to know it too. Sometimes, when we want to think we want things different, it's good to realize that we probably really want to be right where we are. Even if I'd known......I really wouldn't change a thing.

A new friend named Zoey

Every morning starts the same. I wake up to find my youngest, Garrett,  standing inches from my face or snuggled at my side, requesting his chocolate milk. I tease him about bringing him strawberry milk instead and remind him to go potty first. We talk about how we are BFFs while I stretch and, usually, he places a second request for his milk before I roll my tired self out of bed and meander toward the kitchen. It's always chocolate milk, always in his fish cup, always in my bed with me laying beside him. That is how we roll. Garrett likes for things to stay the same. Honestly, I think we all do really. He feels safe when life is predictable. A new cup, a different drink, a distracted mommy, these just don't work for G and so our days start the same, unfortunately,  not everything can always stay the same.

As the first day of school too quickly approaches, I have begun prepping my boys for some major changes. One of the biggest is that Garrett will be going to a new school this year. It is not one that he is terribly unfamiliar with because both of his brothers have gone there but it is new to him. Anytime we can prepare him and help him adapt more easily,  we try to do just that and so we have been talking more and more about some of the things that will be different. Garrett admits to feeling nervous and a little scared which both breaks and warms my heart. I love to hear him express himself so clearly but I hate that it is not always confidence that he feels. I want him to not fear change but to be able to adapt. Admittedly though,  even I am a tad frightened when I think about new beginnings in our little world.

Another change our family is facing is that Parker is moving up to middle school. Those two words should cause all parents to shudder and I am no different. Already I feel disconnected and like I am sending him out into the  great unknown. I am not sure how to best prepare him but we are doing the basics. We talk about it and we bought the trapper keeper, pencils, and high lighters. I, of course, don't show any of my fear to him but, when I start to think on it too much, I have no choice but to pray before the panic sets in. Change may be necessary in living life, but it is also scary.

Change is a natural and unavoidable part of life. Just in the last few months, we have seen several in our family. We have changed shapes. We have changed sizes. We have changed seasons and sports. We have changed treatment plans. Goals and dreams have changed. We have even switched the boys' bedrooms up a bit (another change strongly protested by G). Change is inevitable. We can't stop it and sometimes we can't prepare for it. Sometimes it brings good and healing and rightness to our lives and sometimes it brings pain and struggle and hardship. What anchors me in the midst of all this change is a truth expressed in a song we sang this week at church. It says 'the wind and waves still know His name".  As I listened to those words throughout the week prior while Ryan was preparing for worship, I was choked every time I heard them. They speak of power and security even with the uncertain and uncontrollable.The waves, the tide of earth, the ebb and flow of the sea, as ever changing as they are, still know the Master's voice. The wind that bends and even breaks the trees of every forest across the land, the wind that falls the leaves and cools us with an evening breeze is obedient to His command. The changes will come but I can be sure of Him always.

Another change that our family has experienced this season is that Garrett has started some horse therapy. It has been a beautiful change for us. He seems so strong and big and at peace when he is on a horse. This week the wonderful volunteers had saddled a new horse named Zoey for G. G did not like this change. He adamantly argued that he wanted Titus, that Zoey was too many "centimeters". After some compromising from both sides and a quick side to side comparison, G discovered that Zoey was also a good horse, not one to be afraid of, and they successfully completed a scavenger hunt together. Zoey was not just a new friend for us, though, Zoey was a game changer. The experience gave us much to talk about. We talked about how sometimes new things are scary but they can still be okay. We talked about how he felt and how Zoey might have felt meeting a new boy for the first time. We talked about how change is hard but necessary. I told him how proud I was of him for being brave and trying a new thing. We are still talking about it days later. Life is never going to stay the same for any of us. There will always be new days, new experiences, new friends, and new fears but I trust in the Anchor that holds steady and true, the same voice that the wind and waves obey wants to talk with me daily.  In the face of each day and whatever joys and struggles it brings, I agree with G, who in his best country accent tells his horse friends, "walk on Zoey ( or Titus), walk on".

Sometimes I hide in my bathroom...

Sometimes I hide in my bathroom. I am a grown woman, married, mother of three and there are times that I sneak into the potty and lock the door, praying that no one misses me. It might be because I need a moment of quiet. It might be because I want to read my devotional. It might be because I want to take a few deep breaths or just pluck my eyebrows. Whatever the reason, sometimes I slip into the bathroom, shut the door, and hide, just for a minute or maybe a few minutes, the bathroom has long been my quiet space. For as long as I can remember my favorite place to do my quiet time is in my bathtub. Even living at home with my parents, it was my prayer closet, my war room, my place of refuge. It still is.

Our family recently walked through a rougher season. Ryan's health was struggling and life was feeling heavy and hard. It felt as if doors were slamming in our faces and there was no sign of a light at the end of the tunnel. The days were long and I felt overwhelmed and weak. I was taking it day by day and desperately trying to trust but none of that is easy for me. I like to be strong and courageous but I felt scared and done in. I found myself too often slipping away,  shutting the door and trying not to suffocate from the storms we were facing. I struggled to even find time for a quiet time but I never struggled with where to go. When I needed to cry, when I was desperate to pray, when I just wanted my own space for a moment, I would head into the bathroom and get away, not for long but for long enough.

 I have a friend who was confessing to me a similar season of hardness, struggling to seek God when we can't feel Him, when we feel like we are just going through the motions, when life isn't what we want it to be and we feel disconnected. I have felt that way. I have certainly resisted resting in my Saviors arms because my own self was in the way. What I told her is what  I think we all need to hear. God never stops reaching for us. He is always ready and waiting and desiring us. In the hardest of times, in the fiercest of storms, Jesus is still in control. The winds and waves still obey him, even when he doesn't tell them to calm. Our peace is in Him and He is always offering it. My friend and I talked about the scriptures that confirm that and that we just have to keep pressing on. It was such a nurturing conversation for both us. I walked away from it knowing that God was speaking to each of us in our separate struggles and He has confirmed that to me abundantly recently.

One thing that spoke to me was a random song that brought me to tears in the car last week. It is called, "I'll Keep On". It is not my typical music choice, a little young for my blood,  and Ryan even questioned me when he saw that I had downloaded it. I have always encouraged God to get my attention however He needs to and so when my spirit is stirred, I try to listen.The song starts with the chorus which goes like this,

Oh, these hands are tired
Oh, this heart is tired
Oh, this soul is tired
But I'll keep on
I'll keep on 
I'll keep on

It was a song that I was unfamiliar with other than I felt like I was living it. It was as if my soul cried out through a stranger's voice. Part of the verses talk about trying to weather the storms on our own until we finally surrender life into the waiting and ready hands of our Father. It spoke of the struggle of shouldering life when we are just not strong enough to stand. It reminded me to "keep on" and where to place my trust and seek my rest.

Another thing that spoke directly to my soul was in the Word. I was reading in the Old Testament about a time when God's chosen people seemed defeated. They were actually captives in a foreign land and felt deserted and abandoned. The prophet Ezekiel was around at the time but he was kind of a dooms day guy. It seemed he was always delivering condemnation, although truthful, and bad news. In fact, at one point in his life, God told him not to speak unless he told him to. Another time God had him lie on his left side for 390 and then his right side for 40 days. This is not a dude that feel drawn to or connect with easily, but I have been reading through my Bible chronologically and that means that I have to read through ol' Zeke's story. I was not expecting to be moved but God works in mysterious ways and Zeke delivered some great stuff in chapter 34. Ezekiel 34:11-24 says this,

 “For this is what the Sovereign Lord says: I myself will search and find my sheep. I will be like a shepherd looking for his scattered flock. I will find my sheep and rescue them from all the places where they were scattered on that dark and cloudy day. I will bring them back home to their own land of Israel from among the peoples and nations. I will feed them on the mountains of Israel and by the rivers and in all the places where people live.  Yes, I will give them good pastureland on the high hills of Israel. There they will lie down in pleasant places and feed in the lush pastures of the hills.  I myself will tend my sheep and give them a place to lie down in peace, says the Sovereign Lord.  I will search for my lost ones who strayed away, and I will bring them safely home again. I will bandage the injured and strengthen the weak."

How powerful is it that God is rescuing us from dark and cloudy days? Yes,  it is also clear that we will have them but, He will find us in the midst. I love that His rescue will be also be restoring and restful, peaceful and pleasant. He will search for us, bandage us and strengthen us. I needed this. I need it today and I will need it tomorrow and, I have to think that we all need it at sometime in our lives. What a blessing to know and be loved by the Great Shepherd!

Here is the thing that I was graciously reminded of, life is hard and heavy, and storms and hard times are sure to come but I need to never lose hope. I need to keep on...keep trusting, keep resting, keep relying on the Master of the wind and the waves, the only One strong enough to weather my storms and yours. I need to go to the potty and seek out the throne room of the King of Kings believing that He is ready and waiting to answer my cries for help. Sometimes I need to hide in my quiet place so that I can seek and be found by the Shepherd. Life may be hard at times but hope, hope is never lost. In fact, it may be found in the bathroom!

Light it Up Blue

April is Autism Awareness month and April 2nd is Light It Up Blue for Autism Awareness. As I have been thinking on this the last few days so many emotions and thoughts have warred for my attention.  It seems like  autism is a hot topic nowadays and don't all things have a color assigned to them. I wondered why it needed a whole month and then again, why not the whole year!? What would our participation look like and mean? Why blue and not red or orange? Then today, as I was scrolling through Facebook a saying on a t shirt spelled it all out so clearly to me. It said, "April is Autism Awareness month but everyday is Autism Awareness day in our home." That's it for me in a nutshell-I am continuously aware of autism. My home, my work, my sleep, my family, my life is affected by autism everyday. That is why it feels strange and yet inspiring to me. I am all too aware of autism ALL the time.

 As I said earlier, April 2nd is Light it Up Blue and the color blue rubbed me a bit as well. Why Light it up BLUE? Blue is the color of my Garrett's eyes. Blue is just a touch of how I felt as I came to the mommy realization of the battle my baby would face every day. Blue is alot of things in our home, like the color of a clear sky and the color I like best on my boys. At the end of the day though, it is just a color, until you light is up, then it changes. That is how I would describe autism's effect on our life. It is just a word, a diagnosis until..... until it is a label placed on your baby or it becomes the doorway that connects you to your child's awesome potential. Autism felt dark to me for a while and it certainly still has it's days but it has also become a beacon of light to us. It has become the avenue for finding the tools to unlock our Garrett's awesomeness. It is bright and messy and vibrant, just like my boy. It is sensory bins, indoor swings, trampolines in the living room, and root beer in a can. It is our everyday wake up call, sometimes way too early, and what makes me crave my pillow every night. It is one of the brightest, most beautiful lights in my life.

Tying it all together this morning was my quiet time. I was reading a devotional on simple gifts and it asked a question about the greatest "simple" gift that you have waited for. My answer to the question posed was, "yes". In teaching Garrett how to communicate, the word "yes" was slow to come. We worked tirelessly on it and it was a thorn in our side for a very long time. I would want to scream when our sweet speech therapist would tell us that our homework was to keep practicing our yes/nos. I remember the first yes like it just happened. I cried. I clapped. I called daddy to share my joy. There are days when I want to say "no" to autism, hard, long, deflating days, but, when I look into those blue eyes and see the light that still needs set free from my G, all I can say is yes, absolutely and positively YES. Yes, we are aware of autism everyday and, yet, yes, we will light it up blue to help make others more aware. Yes, always yes.

Watching out the Window

We have three large windows in our living room. I have always loved them. They let in loads of sunlight and they truly are the windows to our world. When the boys were little, they would stand on their tiptoes and watch for the infamous trash truck. We have witnessed first snow flakes and flash floods and, just tonight, a hypnotizing thunderstorm from those windows. As my big boys have gotten older, they have become my front row seat into their world. They give a great vantage point to the street basketball games and neighborhood sledding escapades. Ryan and I often find ourselves standing at the windows watching our boys wondering when we got relegated to the windows instead of  being a participant in the games. Sure, boys their age need a bit of independence and it is good to learn responsibility but, watching isn't nearly as much fun. The consolation is that occasionally those windows have been cracked open for the always effective "knock it off!" and it is the way I call the littles in for dinner. They are my way of letting them grow up while I keep a watchful eye on them, my mother's perch, so to speak.

I had a conversation with my boys the other day where we were talking about right and wrong choices and how the best choice is doing what Jesus would do. I apologized to them that life is getting harder now. It was easier when we were teaching how to cross the street safely and tying shoes. These lessons of how to deal with the harsher realities of an unfair life in a sinful world feel woefully over my head. How am I supposed to teach love when my momma fists are clenched tight? How can I preach self control when there are times I just want to shout? I would rather potty train any day. I was honest with my boys, I told them that this is a new season for us all. I said that sometimes my advice is going to be wrong because it will come from the wrong place inside of me.  The Bible is our handbook for life but there are many times we just can't seem to find the right passage to apply. I told them that we would all make mistakes but that there were a few things that we could know and trust and always do. We can always pray. Pray for those who persecute or bother us. Pray for those who we love. Pray for fast days and good days. We could always know that there is forgiveness, when we get it wrong or when others get it wrong to us. The last thing, and we have covered  this alot recently, is that we are each other's safe place. I told them that they are always loved, even when I am correcting them, and that I will have their back always. I told them that family is close to faith and those things are constant lights in what can feel like a dark world. I hate the reality that my boys will face struggles. I would gladly bear every one of their burdens and take on every hurt that comes their way, but that is not my job. At the end of it all, I am trying to raise godly men who love their Jesus and love the people He puts in their paths.

The other night as I laid in my bed praying over all of this, our day and my boys, I was struck by my window watching. You see, sometimes I don't like the view from the window. I have seen the unkindness and the bullying.  I have witnessed harsh words and hurt feelings and I feel constantly torn over when to step in and when to step back. I was praying over these concerns and I realized that I'm not the only one watching There is another window and my heavenly Father has his eyes on my little men too. He not only hears the hurts and knows the heartache, He knows the hair on each of their heads. He knows their todays and their tomorrows. He has their life's plans laid out before Him and He loves them even more than I do. The comfort that I felt when I realized this was unexplainable. The next night as I was praying again over this new season in parenting, I read a beautiful quote in a book that said, "God doesn't just see us; He gazes adoringly at us. He doesn't just notice us; He moves heaven and earth on our behalf." He does that for me and He does that for my boys.  What a wonderful comfort to know that when I can no longer carry my babies through this world, I can trust in Someone who is more than able. It reminded me that as I look down from my perch I also need to look up and have faith. There is One greater keeping watch as well.