Construction Ahead

This is currently the view of my street. It has been the view for about three weeks. Normally I would find this to be irritating, annoying and highly inconvienent.

Today I find it to be one of those life illustrating life scenes.

They are replacing the sewers on our street. We have to eel out the sewers every January during that weird, midwest warm-up in January. This is also the time that monsoons make landfall in Illinois. We don't know how this happens, it just does. With the frozen ground and the massive amounts of rain in short amounts of time, we end up with lots of water in our basement from the backed up storm sewers.

You might look at this scene and see a big mess and a lot of inconvienence. I see it as an indication that our January in 2010 might be a little less costly, and a little less exciting (in a good way).

This picture also reminds me that sometimes you have to get really messy to get all the groundwork in order. Wouldn't I have more patience and understanding if I could remember that in my own life? I stress so much over the messy outside, I never notice what needs fixed underneath. Sometimes we need these warning signs to let us know that work is coming up quick, and we need to be prepared.

Head on over to Chatting at the Sky for more profoundly normal moments.

Complete

Do you remember as a child that there were days that were so complete that you couldn't fathom how life could get better. You played so hard and so long that you were so exhausted your feet felt like lead weights and you body just wouldn't work anymore?

I had the honor and joy of spending the day with my kids last Saturday and we savored every second of it. We went to the State Fair and, although I loved spending time with Kevin and seeing him have fun, I got so much joy by watching Abby experiencing her first fair. She was so exhausted that she barely made it past the fairgrounds on the way home before she was out like a light.

I love the knowledge that I got to be a part of one of those days from childhood that just felt complete, and you couldn't have imagined anything better.

Head on over to Chatting at the Sky for more profoundly normal moments.

Tuesday Unwrapped ~ Baseball

I spend so much time frustrated and worried and hopeful and disappointed during the school year. If I could take away Kevin's learning disabilities I would in a heartbeat. If I could make things easier for him, even just a little bit, I would give anything for it. But I can't. So we struggle, and fight, and give up and start over. And over. And over.

Summer is like a haven for us. Kevin can just be a boy. Going on field trips with his day camp. Hanging out at Nana and Papa's. Coming home from being out doing boy things covered in dirt and smiles. Swimming like a fish and turning golden from hours in the pool at the park. Weekend fishing trips with Grandpa and trips to the zoo as a family.

But best of all...he plays ball.





I took this picture while the coach was having a little chat with the boys and getting them refocused. I just love watching Kevin play baseball. He struggles so much all year to focus and comprehend and retain and keep up. Out on the baseball diamond, especially behind home plate as catcher, he finds his moment to shine. He is focused, purposeful, needed, dependable, and best of all, he is just one of the guys, working together on an even playing field. And by the way, this kid has a great arm on him!

I love this picture. It is such a perfect frame of their relationship. They had actually been playing and I was trying to get a picture of her squealing and throwing her hands up, but I caught this instead. One in a million, if I had wanted it I would have missed it shots.

I am so thankful that God has given Abby such an amazing big brother, and I am so thankful that Kevin has such a loving little sister. They are so connected to each other, it is a true blessing from God. I just pray that in the years to come, their relationship will continue to grow as a support and source of unconditional love.

How wonderfully wise and loving is the God that heard my "never again" but answered the prayer I didn't know to pray with a "yes" instead.