Changes... and how I'm doing.

There is a time for everything,

and a season for every activity under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,

a time to embrace and a time to refrain,

a time to search and a time to give up,

a time to keep and a time to throw away,

a time to tear and a time to mend,

a time to be silent and a time to speak,

a time to love and a time to hate,

a time for war and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

One week ago, my oldest son moved into his first dorm room. He planted himself firmly in his new life as a college student, and I was uprooted -- from full-time mom to part-time correspondent (by text and twitter). I mourn, but I also dance... God placed him at Samford and my heart for him is full.

Five days ago, my second son started high school, along with a gazillion other fresh ninth graders across the country. He's my "mini me," home schooled by my side through eighth grade. We were always together -- grocery shopping, schooling, house cleaning and library trips. This week, I'm mourning his constant presence. Grocery shopping alone is peaceful (a time to be silent), but oh how I miss his jabbering (a time to speak). Of course, he comes home from the public high school bubbling with stories about his day and I miss the silence. Perhaps I'm never content?

Ellie started second grade Monday. She's happy as a lark, embracing the new school year with all its promise. She loves her teacher and is thrilled to have friends in her class. Thankfully, this is a time of peace in her world, which means peace for me.

I'm adjusting well, though. I write without interruption. With no one home all day, the house stays a lot cleaner! My husband and I enjoy lunch together (he has Wednesday afternoons off. WOO HOO!).  In some ways our family is being torn down, scattered like stones across the country and across town, but my heart is mending. Though I must let go of what was, I look ahead to what will be.

Love.

Peace.

Laughter.

Movin' on up!

"Movin' on UP" might be a stretch. No dorm room is ever as cozy as HOME! Nathan traded in his queen size bed for the traditional, lumpy dorm twin XL. He traded a fully equipped kitchen, open 24/7 for meals in the "caf."

"UP" is his first step toward independence. He decides if he gets up with the alarm or sleeps through class (Nathan, if you're reading this... GO TO CLASS!). He decides when -- or if -- to change the sheets on the bed, to toss the laundry in the hamper or on the floor, or to scrub the toilet. I have no say. He's moved on toward independence.

Before he moved "UP," he allowed us to help him unpack his stuff. Here's a peak into Nathan's new digs. Enjoy!

All loaded up and ready to go.

Can't believe it all fit -- and five people too!

Good thing I'm an expert traveler/packer.

First Day of School: Twisted!

For the first time in 18 years, 3 months and 29 days, I am home alone -- today, tomorrow, and every day through the school year. Not only that, but one of my three is at college -- all by himself! I won't be there to wake him when he sleeps through the alarm or to pray with him before he heads off to class or to make sure he eats his veggies!

Thanks to lots of wonderful, praying friends I am getting through it. Well. No tears. No anxieties or worries... though, I do obsessively check my son's twitter feed for glimpses into his collegiate world (he's being stingy with his posts!).

In honor of our life of change, I've created a "picture book" look into this season. Enjoy!

 We've walked far together, our family of five...

Change affects everyone!

Hey my bloggy friends,

I'm sure you've clued in to the fact that I'm suffering through sending our first "off to college." I tell myself it's so hard because he will be nine hours away from home, but the truth is, it will be hard because I love having him around.

Trying to fall asleep last night, and failing again, my mind raced through memories.

• Nathan at eight months, propped up on the pillows in our bed between us, everyone reading a book,
• Nathan at eighteen months, wanting desperately to be close to us at bedtime and sleeping behind his bedroom door (imagine getting in without hurting him),
• Nathan at two years, falling out of his toddler bed, rolling underneath it, sleeping through it all until he tried to sit up and couldn't. WAIL!
• Nathan's third birthday at the zoo,
• Nathan crying the day after he got his tonsils out because he couldn't go to school (and his teacher kindly stopping by to bring him a book to read while he recovered),
• Nathan conning Ben into doing their chores by playing "Pokemon trainer" -- he'd train and Ben would be the faithful, hardworking Pokemon,
• Nathan telling us he had prayed for us to have a desire to adopt a baby (thus the sudden and unexpected road to Ellie),
• Nathan marching in the Macy's parade,
• Nathan with strep, mono, pneumonia and a 104.9 degree fever all at the same time,
• Nathan teaching kids at summer church camp,
• Nathan sitting on the front row at graduation, no longer a little boy, but a young man.
• And more....

Tick! Tock! Clock

Oh my dear friends,

I haven't fallen off the planet. PROMISE! I am, however, a little busy at home. Our firstborn leaves for college Thursday... and we're getting ready.

Nathan meets Ellie for the first time.

His stuff is all packed. He is most definitely ready -- he even read ahead for one of his classes (maybe he learned a lesson or two in high school?)

Nathan and Ben hamming it up together on vacation.

He's so kind, though, concealing his anticipatory glee when I get sad. Not talking too much about next week. Taking time one on one with his siblings.

Even when I asked what he wants for dinner these last three nights, he's considerate. I know his favorites: tamale casserole (all the flavor of a tamale without the frustrating prep), chicken-sausage gumbo, and Greek. But he's staying true to himself, "...if you have time, Mom."

And now, hamming it up with his roommate to be.

Time? I thought I had all the time in the world. Wrong. He grew up. And I will miss him.

Love,

Hold My Tongue! An Update

Holding my tongue... Ohhhh.... It has always been a battle. (My family will shout AMEN! when they read this!) This week's challenge was really tough. I tried. I failed. I apologized. I tried. I failed. I apologized.

Then I prayed. And begged my prayer warrior friends to join me.

I tried again. I did better. I must say it helped a lot that the person at the other end of the frustration was kind, compassionate and really, as frustrated as I was with the whole situation. She extended far more grace than I deserved. I am grateful.

Holding my tongue continued to get easier -- that whole persistent prayer thing really works!

Yesterday, my heart followed my tongue. The quieter my tongue got, the softer my heart became. By midday, I prayed for her -- the person stuck in the middle of the storm -- and asked God to give her wisdom and make the path clear. I thanked God for her kindness. I thanked Him for softening my heart in the whole situation. God is so good. He really will give us peace, if we genuinely ask. No matter what the battle is!

At church last night, the pastor shared a couple verses that further sharpened my focus:

• Don't you realize that in a race everyone runs, but only one person gets the prize? So run to win! (1 Cor. 9:24)
• Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. (Hebrews 12:1)

Perhaps we went through this ordeal for me to understand. This whole life is a race -- run to glorify God. He wants to help me win. Holding my tongue is something God can help me do. With God's love in me, I can do it! And when it gets hard, there are people to cheer me on -- other believers who want me to succeed (my prayer warrior friends) and the heroes of the Bible (that great cloud of witnesses). It's not just my battle. The Christian community is one -- we run this race together. I don't hold my tongue for me. I hold my tongue for God -- it's a testimony to the great power of his love. Honestly, it's a HUGE testimony of the power of his love, because I can't do it alone!

Today, I am grateful to God for standing with me. I am thankful to God for the friends who stand by me. More, though, I am thankful to God for second chances to learn valuable lessons and thankful that He cheers me on.

Blessings,