my little family – Page 19 – everything He gives

the last wedding

April 4, 2016 MarthaKimballLeave a comment

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Last weekend we stayed all together (minus one sister-in-law and nephew) in this big rustic barn in Lexington, Virginia. As you may be able to tell from the many, many pictures, there was a whole lot of joy over the weekend. We gathered for my youngest brother’s wedding, the last one of us to be married. The cousins had a blast being together, Phoebe and Jericho playing “bride” all week long in preparation for the event, Noah and Asher playing “trucks,” the babies toddling about trying to be a part of everything. It was busy and at times chaotic, but full in the best sort of way. The bride and groom had made the whole weekend special with small, meaningful and relaxed gatherings (a family/friends hang-out thursday evening, bridal luncheon friday afternoon, etc.) that gave us time together and time to mingle. The wedding was one of the most beautiful and meaningful I’ve been to, and I was able to have a small part reading a beautiful prayer over this couple, as well as watching my little girl scatter flowers like a pro for the bride.

I think one of the greatest mysteries of attending weddings is the peculiar way that it confirms and solidifies our own love for one another again. Along with the bride and groom, we cherish the vows again, we remember, we look back with a whole lot of road behind us now. We see a little more clearly, but somehow still dimly, because the glory of this institution requires a lifetime to unveil. We want to sing a hundred songs over this new couple, to tell them to drink deeply of this beautiful cup, in worship to the Lord. We want to hem them in with a hundred warnings, all the hard-won lessons we have learned along the way. They will have their own battles, they will only learn by going their own road.

On the drive up to Virginia, this song played piercingly loud over my heart as I thought of these two heading into marriage. The only safety we have in marriage, the supreme gladness I have over these two is that in the safety of the sovereign care of God, we can trust that they will not be shaken. It’s the best news going into marriage: the battle is going to rage, the armies are going to rise up against them on all sides, but we have the surety of a God who is for us, who is fighting on our behalf, who is fighting for our marriage, a God who is stronger than all that will come against us. We have a God who is redeeming all things, setting all broken things right, a God who is always making new. We cannot trust in frail man, we cannot even trust ourselves, but we trust in our God. I pray that over these two that I love so dearly, I pray this over my own unknown future: Go with God, dear ones. Through His unfailing love, we will not be shaken.

For we trust in our God
And through His unfailing love
We will not be shaken,
We will not be shaken,
We will not be shaken
[x2]

Though the battle rages
We will stand in the fight
Though the armies rise up against us on all sides
We will not be shaken
We will not be shaken
We will not be shaken

For in the hour of our darkest day
We will not tremble, we won’t be afraid
Hope is rising like the light of dawn
Our God is for us He has overcome

All those against Him will fall
For our God is stronger
He can do all things
No higher name we can call
For Jesus is greater
We can do all things

(We Will Not be Shaken, Bethel Music)

Click here to listen to the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3KHPIZOdrjI

spring things

March 21, 2016March 23, 2016 MarthaKimballLeave a comment

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We were enjoying mornings and afternoons on the porch last week, snack outside, making mud pies in the sandbox. Temperatures plummeted this week and we expect another frost tonight potentially. We’ve had our foretaste of spring and we’re ready for it now! We get used to the quieter, whispered beauty of winter and then spring comes and the earth is bursting with glory and color we nearly forgot existed.

It’s amazing how much can change in one week! I’ve been watching this beautiful white cherry tree outside our living room window, taking pictures of it every day, watching the buds burst open and the tree fill with blooms in the matter of a few days. The red buds are flowering, the cherry trees, the daffodils and crocuses, pansies sprinkled around front doors. When did I become one of those people who is fascinated with buds and blooms, birds and children playing, finding such beauty in all these small things? The smallest, the things most trampled underfoot in our busy rat-race pace. Yet here they are, day after day, quietly doing what they are supposed to do, echoes of a far country. It’s holy week this week, my sister and her family is in town from British Columbia for my youngest brother’s wedding this weekend in Virginia. We will be caravanning up there mid-week and heading back home to North Carolina on Easter Sunday. The cousins are having the best time together, Phoebe and Jericho are practicing being brides all week, although they will have to settle for being flower girls come wedding day. It is so achingly wonderful to be all together and to see cousins enjoy each other. Our minds and hearts are busy with all that comes with wedding prep, and my soul is meditating on how beautiful it is to be celebrating a man and a woman covenanting in marriage around the time of year that Christ suffered and died for His beloved church. There is a tangle of meaning there that I have yet to extricate.

I finished my first kerchief/mini shawl which seems the perfect size for Phoebe and she loves it. I guess I can share it with her. 🙂 I’m pretty proud of it, already working on another shawl and a couple other knitted projects on the go. Brandon says my knitting stuff is now everywhere, taking over the whole house and I cackled with glee. I wouldn’t want it any other way right now! Books and skeins of yarn scattered everywhere! Also, Brandon let me splurge and order a skein of yarn from one of my favorite bloggers and natural yarn dyers, Ginny Sheller, and it arrived last week. I love it so much.

I hope you’re enjoying your first week of spring!

the way of trust

March 12, 2016 MarthaKimball1 Comment

My dear daughter

I see it in the way your eyes frenzy, the way your cheeks puffed red with play now fill with frustration as you recount to me how the other children won’t do it the way you want them to. I see myself in that frustration, that anger, that frantic grasping. Oh my girl, how do I help you when I am just like you? It’s about control, dear girl. Maybe one of your greatest battles as you grow up and even into womanhood will be over the issue of control.

Ask any woman around, and if she’s honest she’ll agree. You can trace that common thread among us all the way back to the Garden, all the way back to Eve. The way she fell for it straight from the snake’s mouth, the lie that God was withholding something better for her. The lure that she could procure a better reality for herself if she only reached out her hand and grasped for it, rather than reach up her hands and ask for it. Wait for it. Surrender it.

It’s going to be about trust for you and I, my sweet girl.

You’re the firstborn, and I don’t know much about being a firstborn because I was a middle. But I do know it’s harder for the firsts. Borne in you is a natural desire and gifting to manage, organize, corral, and lead. These are beautiful gifts, important, and leadership will probably come naturally to you. However, these strengths can be hamstrung by a desire for control and you might as well go ahead and get your eyes wide open to it.

I see it in women around me, I see it in myself. We are so very afraid to trust the hand the Lord has dealt us as His good for us, His love to us. We want so much to see our husbands do things this way or that way, instead of gently being led by them, entrusting ourselves to God in placing us in this union with this man who had all these faults we didn’t see when we married him (never mind all our own faults).

We want so much to pummel our bodies into the shape of this woman or that woman, failing to recognize or accept that God formed and fashioned us with a certain build and we each have a unique beauty to offer, even if it isn’t what mimics the magazine covers.

We want so much to have these kind of children, this sort of lifestyle and income and home, and we bend ourselves in a million crazy ways trying to achieve it, almost until we break.

We don’t want the good gifts God has given us, we look out and see a better life that we believe we can construct and reach out a hungry hand and grasp for it. We don’t like limitations and boundaries and we certainly don’t like surrender.

So often the work of trust is the work of staying empty. Being okay with a temporary emptiness, resisting the frantic urge to fill the void. Instead of reaching out and grabbing that apple, reaching out that hand and leaving it empty, open, waiting, surrendered. Waiting for God to fill it. Enjoying Him instead of the thing we think we must have. Trusting Him as we ask, finding our way to contentment if His answer is no.

The antidote to control is trust, my girl. T R U S T.

When I say this to my own soul, I feel weary with another “do” I must perform, another thing to work at. But the very essence of trust, I’m learning, is that it isn’t primarily a work that I must produce, a work of mustering up feelings of trust, but rather it is a work of remembering and resting. Go back and review who God is, remind your soul who He is, what great things He has done. Start in Psalm 103, if you need a place to start.

“Praise the Lord, my soul;
    all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
Praise the Lord, my soul,
    and forget not all his benefits—
who forgives all your sins
    and heals all your diseases,
who redeems your life from the pit
    and crowns you with love and compassion,
who satisfies your desires with good things
    so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s…”

(Psalm 103:1-5)

Go on a littler further and see His hands stretched wide on the cross, stretched wide so that He could remove your sins far from you, as far as the east is from the west

For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is his love for those who fear him;
as far as the east is from the west,
so far has he removed our transgressions from us.

(Psalm 103:11-12)

Ground your soul so deeply in who He is, marvel over His love and His work toward you and on your behalf. Can you trust this God? Is He not good? Is He not full of love toward you? Are not all His ways toward you grace and love?

“The Lord is good to all,
And His tender mercies are over all His works.”

(Psalm 145:9)

You won’t understand how they are love and grace, especially when the rose He hands you comes prickled with thorns. All you can know for sure are His precious promises, His inerrant and unfailing words, and you can find rest for your soul here.

This is where trust is born: remembering again who He is, how He loves, what He’s done for you, then resting in it. Ceasing from striving, from straining, even the strain to understand all the “whys.”

This is no easy task, child. It is a choosing, a literal exertion of will. Choose to stop, to still, to smile, even, in the safety of your Father’s hands. Let yourself be held. That is the work of trust. Doesn’t that sound so welcoming, so irresistible?

“Against insurmountable obstacles and without a clue as to the outcome, the trusting heart says, ‘Abba, I surrender my will and my life to you without any reservation and with boundless confidence, for you are my loving Father.'”
-Brennan Manning, Ruthless Trust

Gloriously, the outcomes, the trajectory, the end results are not really in our hands. (Walk into any cancer ward and talk with anyone receiving a diagnosis of any kind and you can’t escape that truth.) We can either fight against this reality or we can accept it, and the difference will show in how much joy we have in our time here. You and I, sweet girl, we can run our race ragged and angry and out of breath with fear, or we can run abiding in His love, resting, trusting. He means for us to have joy, joy to the full. He’s a good, good Father.

“He who heeds the word wisely will find good,
And whoever trusts in the Lord, happy is he.”
Proverbs 16:20

“The way of trust is a movement into obscurity, into the undefined, into ambiguity, not into some predetermined clearly delineated plan for the future. The next step discloses install only out of a discernment of God acting in the desert of the present moment. The reality of naked trust is the life of a pilgrim who leaves what is nailed down, obvious, and secure, and walks into the unknown without any rational explanation to justify the decision or guarantee the future. Why? Because God has signaled the movement and offered it his presence and his promise.”
Manning, Ruthless Trust

“The Lord upholds all who fall,
And raises up all who are bowed down.
The eyes of all look expectantly to You,
And You give them their food in due season.
You open Your hand
And satisfy the desire of every living thing.

The Lord is righteous in all His ways,
Gracious in all His works.
The Lord is near to all who call upon Him,
To all who call upon Him in truth.
He will fulfill the desire of those who fear Him;
He also will hear their cry and save them.”

(Psalm 145:14-19)

spring projects

March 8, 2016 MarthaKimballLeave a comment

This is what March is like around here. One day it’s snowing, a few days later you’re planting pansies and soaking up the sun in your front yard. I’ll take it all, but it really did feel pretty wonderful to be outside almost all day Saturday and Sunday, watching the kids zoom around the yard on their bikes, or playing on the swing and sandbox. I don’t know quite what got into Brandon this weekend, but he went to town on a few projects for me/us. He made small planter boxes for me (his own design, which I love!) so that we can have a scant amount of veggies, at the very least. The ONLY place in our yard that has light is our porch, so I plan to have a few containers this year of the barest essentials: herbs, tomatoes, cucumbers, greens of some sort. It’s just the best growing food with little ones. They are so excited to see the whole process and I do believe it helps with better eating when they’ve grown and tended the plants themselves. For us, it helps some financially and nothing tastes better than our own produce. I really miss our bigger garden space but I’m thankful for at least a little square of sun.

Philippa was attempting to “help” me go through and sort clothes earlier last week, I suppose, or at least making the job easier by dumping all of Noah’s wardrobe contents on the floor. She is for sure the most mischievous of all the children so far, at 15 months old. I literally clean up one disaster, walk into the next room and find another one.

We filled up our bird feeder this weekend and rehung it and it’s been really fun watching at the windows and from the porch, spotting new cheery visitors. The warm sun made me crave getting my fingers in the dirt and seeing some bright new life, so we planted a few pansies. I was amazed at how interested Philippa was in planting flowers. She surprises me with how much she understands and how eager she is to do “big kid” things. The older two were busy rowing their “boat” through the wild seas, so she had the dirt and trowel all to herself. She filled up the little pot with dirt very slowly and plunked purple pansies down in there, smooshing them in sideways. Watering everything was another adventure which completely fascinated her.

Earlier in the afternoon on Sunday Brandon told me he wanted to make me something, a surprise. I took Phoebe on a mommy/daughter date to pick out a craft she had been saving her spending money for (an “Anna” sculpture/piggy bank to paint) and when I came back Brandon surprised me with an Amish yarn swift! I felt so so loved! I put it to use right away last night and it is so much easier to use than the other methods for winding skeins that I had been attempting. Mostly, it just meant a lot to me that he came up with that idea and figured out how to make one. He honestly supports me endlessly in all my little endeavors, even when I constantly doubt myself, and it means so much. I don’t know why he seems to believe in me, but he does, and in this great big world full of critics and naysayers, one of the greatest gifts is having someone who is always, always on my side, someone who is for me, cheering me on, pointing me always toward who + what is best. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not perfect and we butt heads often, but ultimately we are each other’s biggest cheerleaders and defenders in a world full of opposition and difficulty, and for that I am grateful.

new things

March 1, 2016 MarthaKimballLeave a comment

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I wound my first skein of yarn by hand into a ball and could finally cast onto my first shawl! This yarn is truly dreamy to knit with, as so many others have said, but I’m not sure I’m crazy about the colorway. I’ll see what I think when I finish up. In some light, it reminds me of the ocean on a gray day, or of Phoebe’s little sleepy eyes, which makes me love it. I finished up a little baby hat this week in that gorgeous super soft deep pink yarn.

Philippa has been really into pointing out all the “no-no’s” this week, walking around (or climbing on my desk) and pointing and asking, “no-no?” As if she doesn’t know. She is definitely going to be our craziest little one so far. Last night after I pulled her out of her chair after dinner, I took off her pants which were covered with food. Normally we bathe the kids right after dinner. I was going to let her wander for a minute while I finished eating and next thing I know I see her naked bum walking around carrying her cloth diaper in the other hand. She yelled “da-tye!” (bath time) and went running and squealing for the bathroom as I chased her. She is hilarious and I have NO idea how she got her diaper off. She is into everything, and she loves throwing laundry in the toilet. Sigh.

The kids and I tidied up the backyard and the sandbox this morning, resurrecting it. Phoebe is pretty excited about it being mud pie season again and I hope to add a few more things to her outdoors kitchen. These past few days have been warm and sunny in NC and even though I didn’t think I was ready to see winter go, these warm days are so pleasant that I’m starting to dream up little spring projects for us. Philippa loves being in the backyard and is content in the sandbox for quite a while. We might see some snow again this week, but we’ll enjoy whatever we get, whether sun or snow or just drizzly cold. It’s all a season, it all comes and goes, and each day bears its own gift and its own rub.

We met with a new nutritionist for Phoebe last night, a specialist in our area for Celiacs. It was probably the first time I’ve felt like we really have an advocate who is able to help us, who is knowledgeable, compassionate, practical, and seems to really care. We’ve met with a few others, and this was the first time it felt right. After looking at what Phoebe is getting calorically per day, she was pretty mystified as to why her weight is dropping, even after 6 months on a gluten-free diet. In some ways that made me feel better, but it also concerned me. We should see and hope to see growth SOON. One thing I really appreciated was the fat folder of resources she gave me for local restaurants with details about each one, best grocery resources, flour recipes, coupons, etc. She encouraged us to give up oats for the next 6 months as there has been controversy recently on the processing of oats and unintended cross-contamination. We also talked about trying to diversify the grains Phoebe is eating beyond mostly rice products, so I’m really excited to have some recipes to play around with millet, sorghum, amaranth, and some bean flours which are new to me. I keep taking it a step at a time, a couple new changes at a time, which saves my sanity and makes it more manageable.

This week has felt like the first hints of spring, and I have told the kids to be looking for the very first buds on the branches. Whoever spots them first will get a little treat of some sort, so they have been looking every day.

winter rains + change

February 23, 2016 MarthaKimball2 Comments

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Last week was a terribly busy and stressful week with more doctor appointments than I care to recall. Everyone here is okay, just some appointments following up on Phoebe’s growth and progress since her diagnosis, a first-time visit to a brand new support group for kids with Celiacs, and some appointments for myself. I had heart surgery a number of years ago, and have been mostly doing fine, but lately have had an increase in palpitations/skipped beats, so I’m following up on it and wearing a heart monitor for the next month (its so fun to be a tangle of wires). It was strangely gratifying to have the doctor tell me it’s probably mostly the fact that I have three kids five and under. Sleep deprivation and stress can do crazy things to a person!

A drizzly cold rain is spitting outside as I type this over a steaming mug of tea. Every day it seems we hear more and more birds singing, and February is nearly over. We try to get outside and run and explore as much as we can. Spring is on its way, though I can’t say I love spring as much as I do winter. I am still hoping for one more good snow in March! In fact Phoebe dressed all in white the other day and told me she was a snowflake and then proceeded to chant “We want snow to come our way” all morning. God gives special attention to the prayers of a child, right? 😉 I don’t want to let go of the early mornings huddled around the fire, everyone gathered over books, tangled hair and blankets.

We went to SC over the weekend to help Brandon’s parents do some work on their house to get it ready to sell. While the guys worked outside all weekend, my mother-in-law, kids and I spent time together inside and out exploring some nearby parks. We are always grateful for time with them and that they offered to pay Brandon for the work, which is unnecessary but a huge blessing to us in this season where finances are tighter than ever.

In other random news, Phoebe had her first loose tooth last week. She got up from nap one day with a terrified expression, like she thought she would be in trouble, and announced that she wouldn’t be sucking her fingers anymore because her tooth felt uncomfortable. All week she tilted her head to the side while she chewed (it is her front bottom tooth) and yesterday morning during breakfast, it just came right out. I think she was surprised that it really didn’t hurt! She had a note and $1 from the tooth fairy in the morning, which she promptly put in her little wallet. Noah thinks the whole thing is so cool and he can’t wait for his teeth to fall out.

Meanwhile, Philippa has been getting molars and has been miserable the past few days. Also, I have begun officially weaning her. She nurses only in the morning and at night before bed, but because of some of my own health reasons, I need to wean her. I’ve been delaying it because she still loves it and so do I. I kept hoping she would sort of lose interest. She cried pitifully for it this morning and I nearly caved, but it’s one of those times that necessity must rule over emotion. I will hold onto the night feeding a little longer and then in a few weeks we will both have to let go. I have loved nursing my babies so much, and I never know if God will choose to give us another, but I have also been nursing and pregnant nonstop for the past six years and my body is letting me know it needs a rest. If it was up to me I would probably hold onto these years forever, but God finds a way to help us let go, even when our fingers have to pried off of the thing.

I love being a mother so much, I count this the most privileged work of my life. I hate the letting go parts that come with it, and I know I will fight it at every stage.

I’m so thankful that in it all, all the changes I don’t love, my God remains changeless. I love that the same words that soothe my soul and bring me peace and comfort are the words that have comforted and satisfied countless thousands of others for hundreds of years. Changeless.

“When my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I.”
(Psalm 61:2 ASV)

grief surprises

February 10, 2016February 12, 2016 MarthaKimball2 Comments

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Last week I went with a friend and all our kiddos at our local Nature Center. It’s such a fun outing for the kids with a lot of space for them to run around and explore, a nice interruption to our usual Monday activities. I think my friend and I both came pretty exhausted and spent, we didn’t cover much ground in terms of sharing updates or our hearts. We just sat together and barked occasional directives at children. It was simple, it was good.

When I got the phone call back in June of 2015 about Phoebe and her diagnosis with Celiacs disease, I was literally just getting the kids ready to walk about the door for my dad’s 60th birthday celebration. I was supposed to pick up balloons and was hurrying to get the kids and myself dressed and ready in time for the 30 minute drive to nearby Black Mountain for the family gathering. The nurse told me the diagnosis, and I could tell in her voice there was the sorrow of having to give bad news. The words hit like a punch and then like a wave, washing back and forth over me again and again. I wanted to cry but it was like everything inside me just froze and I had to press hold on it all so that we could go to my dad’s celebration. There was a swirl of emotions, even excitement and joy because we finally had an answer that made sense. After that, I never could really seem to get to the sorrow I felt. Over the next few days, I went into “go mode,” immediately researching, placing holds on every book about celiacs at the library, visiting many different grocery stores in our area, cleaning out cabinets and getting rid of food, washing and replacing kitchen utensils. There wasn’t time for anything else yet. Tears came here and there, but never a good deep cry, never the feeling that I was able to “get” down to the buried emotion. There was mostly anxiety and a tightness in my chest that just wouldn’t go away.

That was six months ago.

A few days ago I had a really difficult day at home with the children. It was “one of those days” (all the mommas said amen), everything going wrong, with lots of yelling and failure, and it felt like a heavy hand just trying to push me down flat. We stopped and prayed many times throughout the day, the children and I, but the heaviness just wouldn’t lift. After the kids were in bed, Brandon and I were talking about it, I was crying, confessing, he was listening. Then suddenly it was like something in my soul cracked wide open and it finally spilled out. All the grieving. All the fear, the terror, the exhaustion, the sorrow. The sweet release. The letting go.

See, grief is not something we manage. It isn’t something we are in control of. We want to hurry our souls through our pain — but it cannot be wrangled and managed as easily as our calendars or our laundry piles.

Grief surprises. It lays dormant for all these passing days, then suddenly it breaks open over us and we are caught in the downpour. We process it as it comes. We are not in control here, we are carried on this journey. The way of the heart is a mystery. Grief cannot be packaged, hurried, tamed. It can be silenced — but it will have its way, eventually.

Partially I think what triggered this surfacing of my grief is that most of Phoebe’s symptoms have stayed exactly the same, even with the gluten-free diet. We are in conversation with her pediatrician and we will continue to pursue whatever options necessary to help her, but it has not been as easy or as simple as most of the books and doctors have implied. A simple change in diet has not really made much difference at all, at least not yet.

It’s not spring yet. We are still in a winter. Others might think us silly for mourning so deeply something that, compared to other’s suffering and pain, is relatively minor. I even think myself silly and frequently catch myself scolding my own soul. But I am learning: grief cannot be controlled, managed, bossed around. Silly or not, it must be acknowledged and allowed its time.

Our God knows. He knows the way He has made each of us to work, He knows how sensitive we are, how slow or quick we are to process, how weak or strong. He knows exactly what He’s doing, even when we do not. That can make me angry, or it can be the greatest comfort. When He seems to apply a pressure on me that is far greater than I can stand up under, when He carves a wide open space and leaves it empty — I want to be angry with Him, and sometimes I am. But I also believe Him. I believe that He knows best. I believe His ways are higher. I believe His plan is perfect. I believe He is good, that He is light and in Him is no darkness. I believe He loves me. He loves me.

He loves you.

He is a safe place for our grief. We can lay it all out before Him, piece by piece as it comes, and trust Him to carry us through it. To show us why it hits so hard, why it hurts so much. He is patient with us, suffering long with us. He abounds in mercy and steadfast love toward us. He goes with us, never retreating from our sorrow, never trying to hurry us on without bandaging each hemorrhaging part. If we are really confident of His love for us — if we truly believe that nothing we can do can ever diminish His love for us, or increase His love for us — then we are free to come before Him in truth, without hiding.

It wasn’t coincidence, it couldn’t have been, that on Sunday as I worshipped with my church family, I held my Phoebe close as she stood on the chair next to me, singing out the words to the song “Oceans.” The words took on new meaning, as I couldn’t help but think of the Scripture the Lord put on my heart for the year 2016. I couldn’t help but think of the Scripture I had read just that morning only moments earlier in the car on the drive to church, the one I scribbled in my journal:

Let not the flood sweep over me,
or the deep swallow me up,
or the pit close its mouth over me.

Psalm 69:15

I couldn’t help but think of the lyrics:

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior

What if the great and deep unknown He asks me to walk in isn’t some romantic call to overseas mission work, or women’s ministry, or a cute etsy shop business, or any other venture that I might find thrilling and appealing, but the hard, daily, and exhausting grind of learning how to feed my daughter, nurture her, and trust Him with her health even when it is terrifying and uncertain? What if the place “where feet may fail and fear surrounds me” isn’t the wild poverty of Africa, as I once assumed it would be, but is the place of sickness and disease in my own home? When I pray the prayer “take me deeper than my feet could ever wander,” what if He answers that by taking me through a deep grief? When her growth is declining rather than improving after being on a gluten-free diet as a family for six months?

“When something breaks down or does not go as planned, we are given a glimpse of our great need. Like a vast emptiness. We pray for solutions, crying out for immediate help, but God desires to give us more. To give something real. Something we can see with our eyes and feel on our skin.”
(Christie Purifoy, Roots + Sky)

God sometimes carves open a wide yawning space within us and leaves it, seemingly, empty. As if He is content to leave us aching, hollow, and groping. We cry out for answers, we are hungry for His voice, we wonder how this can be the abundant life He promised us.

When oceans rise, my soul will rest in Your embrace.
For I am Yours,
and You are mine.

If you are grieving a loss of any kind today, know that I’m praying for you. Spring is coming. The seasons always ebb and flow, like the ocean waves coming and going on the shoreline. A wide open space is hungry ground, open to receive seed.

Behold, the winter is past; the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come.

Song of Soloman 2:11-12

first snow

January 22, 2016January 22, 2016 MarthaKimball1 Comment

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Here in the mountains of North Carolina we gladly welcomed our first big snow of the year last night. It’s still coming down in huge flakes as I write. We had a cozy morning taking it slow and then took like an H O U R to bundle everyone and get outside. This is the first snow Philippa can play in and potentially remember. One of the best parts of raising kids is getting to see them discover the world. SO fun. We took her on the craziest sledding hill ever and she loved it! As did the other kids. Until they didn’t, and everyone was thoroughly wet and soaked and there was weeping and gnashing of teeth. But hey, that’s par for the course. Everyone recovered their sanity after hot chocolates and getting cozy by the fire.

This week has been a heavy week here, emotionally. A lot of friends and loved ones going through a lot of difficult things, and my heart has literally been aching on and off this week, grief rolling over me in waves, as grief tends to do. Tears coming unbidden at inconvenient times. Playing in the snow this morning, seeing the world blanketed in white, seeing it look fresh and new… it is a gift to me from the Lord. A quietness settles over our little corner of the world, broken only by children’s squeals and laughter, and we are soaking up every glorious second of it, even in the face of grief. Maybe we just needed the reminder that storms can bring glory as well as grief, beauty in spite of the bitter. Maybe we just needed to see that a storm can be the way God chooses to make all things new.

greater things

January 18, 2016January 18, 2016 MarthaKimball11 Comments

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Just a little glimpse into our week. We’ve been home a lot, doing tasks around the house, staying in instead of facing the cold or rainy weather, doing crafts and reading books. In reading Emily Freeman’s book Simply Tuesday last year (“last year” sounds weird to say, still), she talks about grounding ourselves in our present moments by keeping track of what fills our days. She does this by keeping a list called “These are the days of..” I’ve been finding myself mentally making a list, smiling over some moments, mourning others, and keenly aware that these days will soon fade into others. These things that are so common to me right now I will pretty much completely forget in a few years time, the way that winter slowly gives way to spring, frost melting and crocus pushing up through soil. These days so full of children, diapers, immediate felt needs, discipline, correction, training, tiptoeing in the early morning hours so as not to wake the baby, squeezing in tiny moments of prayer and scripture, etc.

These are the days of…
the kids banging on the window while they watch brandon leave for work
vacuuming around the toys
a never-ending laundry basket
morning snuggles
usually tidy but not always clean
philippa playing dress up in the laundry basket
noah says to me, “picture this” meaning, take a picture of this.
“adventures in odyssey” playing in the car

The year is two weeks underway, and already it is off to quite a start. Brandon and I have spent some time looking ahead and have been totally overwhelmed with some of the needs and demands this year is going to present to us. We are facing potentially one of our most challenging years yet financially. We are not seeing the growth and healthy response to the gluten-free diet that we should be seeing from Phoebe and have more medical work ahead of us to figure out why. We hope to buy our first home. We may need a new car as Brandon’s well-loved car nears 300K miles. We celebrate our 10th anniversary in May. We have a family trip planned in the summer that we don’t want to miss. We have some medical needs to deal with in 2016. Our firstborn will start school in the fall. And other things I can’t mention.

The only appropriate response we’ve been able to muster to all that is to come is prayer. We have been totally brought to our knees in dependency and pleading with the Lord for wisdom, for guidance, for provision, for help.

I asked Phoebe the other night what she wanted to pray for and she said happily, “I want to ask God to give me everything I want.” I thought to correct her at first, but then found myself nodding with understanding. Isn’t that essentially what we’re doing when we pray? In so many ways, we’re bringing our “wants” before God, asking Him to give us all the things we think we want and need.

“Keep us safe, Lord. Keep us healthy. Turn the children’s hearts to you. Provide for our needs. Work out this difficult situation. Help us, Lord. Bring justice. Forgive us. Forgive them.”

More than teaching her to be careful what she prays for, or to somehow imply that there is a right way to pray to God, I want to teach her to be real before Him and bring her whole heart before Him. I want to teach her that it’s the safest place for all her honest emotions. The place where she really can bare her soul, respectfully and honoring Him, of course, but with vulnerability + transparency. Isn’t this what He urges us to do, to bring our requests before Him, to pour out our hearts to Him and to ask for what we need and want? The beauty of children is their innocent asking, their constant and unabashed neediness. Yet as we age, we learn that usually getting everything we want strangles the life right out of the soul. We learn that we don’t really know what’s best for us, even though we think we do. We learn we can safely ask God for anything in accordance with His will, and yet we surrender all our requests to the safety of His will, knowing that even a good request, even a godly desire might be refused because He is after greater things for us.

Maybe He is after greater things than a totally safe life.

Maybe He is after greater things than perfect health.

Maybe He is after greater things than all our needs met all the time.

Maybe He is after greater things.

In our neediness, in our brokenness, in our failure, in our struggle, in our emptiness, in our loneliness–isn’t this where we grope for Him? Where we are are most reminded of our dependency?

I read this scripture the other day in Proverbs and felt like I finally understood it.

No ill befalls the righteous,
but the wicked are filled with trouble. (Prov. 12:21)

Really? No ill befalls the righteous? My life is full of ill!

Maybe the same things/events/circumstances happen to both those who follow God and those who don’t. Maybe the difference isn’t in what occurs, but the way each responds to it. Maybe all that the enemy plans for my harm, destruction, and discouragement, the Lord uses to drive me deeper into Him. Maybe what could derail me instead deepens me in Christ Jesus. Maybe that’s how whatever could be called “ill” can somehow, in the mysterious ways of God, in the wisdom of God that seems like folly to man, can somehow be called “blessing.”

When I bent to pray over the New Year in the early morning dark all alone, when I pled for Him to give me direction over this year and when I sought Him for a word over it, He clearly whispered Psalm 93 in my spirit. It speaks of waters rising, waters threatening to swallow up, to overflow, to drown. And yet, it speaks of Him reigning supreme. I believe He was wanting to tell me ahead of time what kind of year I can expect to have. I believe some things are going to come in this year that will make me feel totally out of breath, totally surrounded. (We are two weeks in and already feeling it.) He has spoken so much comfort and strength to me through the Scriptures. And this is the beauty of following Him, this is the beauty of knowing Him: He promises to go with me, to go before me, to carry me, to comfort me, to strengthen and establish me. He promises that nothing can come to me that He will not work for my good. He promises that in the end, not even death can separate me from Him. For the child of God, nothing is empty, nothing is meaningless, nothing is not ripe with blessing and fruitfulness, if we are willing to receive it, if we are willing to be open to it. The blessed life is not always the feel-good life. But what is my good? My good is to be near Him. To behold His beauty. To experience the power of His presence. To hear His voice. Sometimes the hardest of circumstances, the most desperate of times, the greatest of griefs are what it will take for me to experience Him the most deeply. He is faithful.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
and the flame shall not consume you.

(Isaiah 43:2)

outside + in

January 8, 2016 MarthaKimball3 Comments

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We’ve been really enjoying a lot of family time lately, and since the winter weather has been so crazy mild here we’ve been outside a good bit. My youngest brother was visiting after Christmas and we took the kids hiking on Graybeard trail in Montreat where Brandon and I spent so many of our college days hiking and exploring.

Noah also got his first fishing pole for Christmas and was so excited to go fishing with Daddy on the lake in our neighborhood. He caught his first fish, too!

Last weekend we were able to take an impromptu trip to South Carolina to visit Brandon’s parents as they are prepping their house to put it on the market. We had such a relaxing and quiet/restful weekend with them. The kids absolutely love them and their house. Noah had his first opportunity to sleep in a big boy room set up just for him, and he did so well and was so excited about it being just for boys. He and Phoebe seem to love sharing a room but I’m thinking he may be getting ready for his own space and it may be time to move the girls in together. All the kids are obsessed with the grandparents’ dogs, which are tiny little mikki’s. Philippa kept calling them “ba-ba,” which is her word for baby. Brandon and I were able to get out for a good run together while the kids napped on Sunday. I was able to spend hours knitting. We were all a bit sad to say goodbye, and when we pulled into our neighborhood late Sunday night Phoebe and Noah both started whimpering and Noah said “I hate home.” So apparently, they had a great time. 🙂

This week has been colder, we even saw some flurries earlier in the week! I realize I’ve been really feeling off without a good cold winter and no signs of snow. As much as I am savoring the milder weather with little ones who get cooped up indoors, it just feels so strange to see wisteria blooming and daffodils springing up through the dirt in January. I read on a friend’s blog a week or so ago that “winter is a time for dreaming” and I’ve thought about it so often since. think it’s important for us to have a season where we are forced to live more quiet, small, and slow because the days are short and cold. It’s been a hard week, in some ways, working on a lot of projects, cleaning, and our budget (read: gag me with ruffage). But Brandon did surprise me on New Year’s Eve with those sweet pink roses. And there has been time for reading hand-written cards and knitting baby socks. So life is good.

“winter is the time for comfort,
for good food and warmth,
for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire:
it is the time for home.”
– edith sitwell

and for knitting + reading + watching “When Calls the Heart” + “Life Below Zero,” I might add.

Happy wintering, friends!

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