Final Goodbye

Last week Monday we packed up the rest of the house and put it in a massive trailer. I say we loosely. Chris did most of the work, along with two good friends of mine from Geth and a handful of others who came by to help out. It was all over in about two hours. Tuesday morning our generous, servant-hearted friend Kevin came by to drive the trailer to SD for us. (yes, he drove it to SD and then turned right around and drove home, what a great guy!)

Having been away from the house for 10 months I

didn't really exp

ect to be too emotional over the whole thing. I was, though. As I sat in the van, ready to drive away it occurred to me that I would never be in the house again. It was no longer mine.

Today at 1:00 MC bought the house. At least I am assuming she did since the real estate agent didn't call with bad news. It is now her house. I am so grateful for all of the memories that God allowed us to have in that house and I look forward to the new memories we will build in Harrisburg

and beyond.

Out of the mouths....

I think I laugh, literally out loud, every day at the funny things Elijah and John say and do.

John had a Nerf gun today and was very excited that he could cock it himself. He cocked it, shot it at the closet door and then turned to Chris and I, "That was awesome!"

Elijah put on Chris' slippers tonight and declared that he was the Dad. "My first order of business, Get me a pickle, son," he said to Chris.

John mistakenly uses the word possible instead of purpose which means that "on purpose" becomes "on possible."

Our daycare provider is having a baby. Elijah has been very curious about how a mommy knows that she is having a baby. One day he asked, "Do you beep or something?"

John currently uses, "IIII'mmmm tiiiirrred" (said with a drawn out whine) when asked to stop doing something he is enjoying, like pestering his brother. While I don't think it is funny now I am sure I will find the humor when he is older, much older.

Let me answer two questions. 1. Yes, John has both legs in one leg hole. 2. Yes he is wearing a Burger King crown.

She Wants my Couch.

I love my couch. I worked two jobs and shopped for two months to get it. It is a khaki, microfiber huge sectional couch that has served many purposes over the seven years it has been mine. It has been a comfortable sleeping spot while I was pregnant with Elijah. It has been a super cool fort. It has been a guest bed for my Granny (she still talks about how comfortable it was to sleep on). It has hosted 5 beautiful ladies learning more about our great God. It has served as the pow wow spot for various important discussions ranging from what to name our second child to what movie to watch.

She wants it. She is the wonderful single woman who is buying our house. Our answer to prayers but she wants my couch. Of all the things in the house that I have missed, my couch tops the list. There are so many memories tied to that object. I remember cuddling my newborn, adorable, Elijah on that couch. I remember telling a group of dear friends (as they sat on that couch) that after trying for a year I was going to have another baby. I remember both Elijah and John taking naps on that couch.

God has taken Chris and I on such a wonderful journey of faith, provision, and balance. As soon as Chris told me that one of the stipulations to the sale was leaving the couch behind I felt it was an important part of our journey. In the 10 months since we put the house on the market God has taught us that He is enough, that we have too much, that we don't need to worry about what the world thinks we should have, that a house is not a home, and that we are rich in so many ways. Really the couch symbolizes sacrifice. God wants to know if I am willing to give up an object that I love in order to reap the blessing of a sold house.

I am. I did. And the house is sold. Thank you, God!

The Proposal

Chris and I try to watch The Office together each week. When Chris is out of town we save it for when he gets home. This week's episode has the main character Michael proposing to the woman of his dreams, Holly. It got me thinking about the night of my proposal.

It was New Years Eve, 1998 (almost 1999). I had joined Chris for the holiday in the Black Hills. It was a cold, but not bitter night. We ate dinner at the Franklin Hotel, where Chris used to work. It was delicious. After dinner we went up to Terry Peak Summit. A beautiful look out, although a bit windy at that time of year. As we drove up there Chris spent a lot of time talking about all the great times we had spent together. When we parked the car Chris played the song "If You Could See What I See", a song he said he would only play for the woman he would marry. When we got up the lookout I was suspicious but still not convinced that he was really going to propose. This was the man who insisted that he graduate from chiropractic school before he got married. We looked out at the night. It was clear and beautiful (and windy). One moment I was looking at the stars and the next Chris was on his knee with a beautiful ring. I'm not sure what exactly he said, I was so shocked. I just remember him asking, "Will you marry me?" I remember saying, "Yes."

It is one of the best yeses I have ever given. I love my husband more today than I did 11 1/2 years ago.

Dear John,

Dear John,

I love you. I love your blue eyes. I love the way you say "Lub you". I love the way you take your brother down with no fear whatsoever. I love that you keep telling me I am your bestest buddy. I love you. Really.

What I am wondering is, if you wouldn't consider using all your knowledge about going potty and actually do it. All of the time. You know, like the big boy you keep telling me you are. It frustrates Mommy a little bit (okay a lot) that you know what to do but don't do it. It also frustrates me that you only want to go potty when Mommy's hand are otherwise occupied, say cooking a fabulous dinner that you won't eat.

I was certain the "Great M&M Bribe" of 2011 would do the trick but you are too smart for that. Daddy was certain the "John Deere Tractor Trade" of 2010 would do the trick but you were too smart for that one too. That's the trouble, isn't it, John. You are too smart for all of us.

Well, like I said. I love you. Just go potty!