bubbles

Zoeybird is officially walking. Everywhere.

She isn't wearing her little braces in this picture (cause they can't get wet, hello.) but she typically does wear them underneath her converse high tops (of course.)

Oh, that girl. so much love in a little body.

She loves her some bubbles.

Anything that is shaped like a ball, really. When we go into a store she screams at the top of her little lungs "BALL! BALL, BALLLLLLL!!"(at anything that is a circle.)

Papa and Grandma were up for the 4th weekend. This was a lovely morning full of coffee and water play. It was cool out and rather than go to the much too populated parade we stayed home and did this instead. My kind of mornin'.

our little boy trying to catch the bubbles. Oh, he is so determined. Whatever he sets his mind to.

and he keeps trying until he gets it to work. or not.

Lots of lovin' and cuddling before naptime.

post nap-time. it takes our kiddos a good 30 minutes to fully wake up. jack especially, haha.

little summer toes.

i'll miss those toes, one day. i already can't believe how big they've grown.
slow down, little ones.



Jack is really into Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood, which I love. And I choke up at the ending credits nearly every time. We sing them together and Zoey waves at the screen as the little friends go by.



We also started singing this song to each other. Sometimes I sing it to Jack often throughout the day. Especially on those hard days. Some times I forget he's three. I forget he's just learning and he's a boy and is human. I forget that he's a work in progress, just like me.



That's not the exact song, but part of it from the show. Oh, man. So cute. Such a great show full of cute songs and good lessons. Jack already sings the potty song and pretty much every song. I am not ashamed of supporting good tv shows. Especially when it's Mr. Roger's. I mean, come on.

The summer monsoons have finally come and I can't help but feel like they're a little late. If it had been this cool and rainy a couple of weeks ago maybe things would be different. Maybe those men would still be alive and there wouldn't have been so many funerals in one week. But that's not the case and the rains did come late this year and we choose to trust and watch as God uses His people to love on families and take care of babies and take meals to families and mourn with them. It's really incredible to see this community come together in help and support. It's bittersweet to drive through town and see purple reminders and flags at half-mast. God is present in the healing, for those that want it, and is so near to those who are broken hearted. I know it will take time, a long time, and grace for this community to heal, but the healing process has begun. 

i didn't take this picture, but it is pretty incredible.

It was so silent as 19 hearses drove by carrying the body's of these men. It was so still.

junipine

We had a small-ish family gathering a couple of weeks ago with cousins and aunts and uncles. It was really wonderful to see a small fraction of cousins. Good to see our kids playing together. It feels like not long ago we were playing together on that front lawn. Time goes so quickly.

We met three week old babies and reminisced with dear cousins I remember holding as babies (when I was a kid myself) and pretending with for hours.

Love seeing my dad with a girl grandchild. He is such a sucker for little girls.

We watched little boys play in a creek that for me used to be the source of hours of stories that had us running away from the orphanage or finding our own utopia. I still feel like that 12 year old inside most days, but when I see my adventurous three year old nearly launch himself into the slippery, cold water I'm reminded how old I am becoming. And for the record, it was too hot for me and Zoey on my hip so we left John and Jack to have some creek adventures. And they both came back wet and exhilarated.

And it's great to see time pass. Bittersweet, of course, but natural and a part of life.

loss

This week things changed in our small, familiar, sheltered, high mountain town.
And it will never be the same.
Boys became men this week and young wives became widows...much too soon.
Their hearts were defiled by the pain and reality of loss and too-soon goodbyes.
Grieving and aching with them, the pain of tragedy strikes deep.

Feeling helpless and speechless, there isn't much to say or ways to bring comfort.
And yet there is Hope. The only Hope, the only rest and the only true comfort in such a time as this.



We were driving home from a mini family reunion when we got the news. We had been out of cell coverage and were late getting word that 19 of our local firefighters had been caught in the angry, raging wildfire and we had lost them. 19 families had lost their son, husband and daddy.

We drove quickly, praying and exchanging texts with ones we love and know.
John went to meet with grieving families, to be present and to pray with them. I wonder if he's even processed all that he saw and heard and felt. He came home in the early hours of the morning, broken and exhausted. Devastated for these families.

We fell asleep with our hands entwined, something we do often. But tonight it felt different, it hit so close to home, to our little family that is no different than those who lost their young daddy to their little kiddos. I kept praying for peace because the ache for the community and friends was so deep and we knew the days ahead would bring so much pain and questioning.

It's been a long week. A week full of layers of grief for those who were left behind. So many questions, so many prayers prayed for those young families and those who know Jesus and those who don't.
It's so natural to question God and His inability to shift the winds or His decision to send them in that direction. It's easy to blame Him for the change in monsoon winds and the one left behind who barely escaped.

But how vital in these raw, painful moments to remind ourselves that we live in a fallen world. A world that was changed when Eve chose to eat the forbidden fruit and sin forever poisoned our world. No matter how much we recycle or eat organic and try to live healthy, sin is still here and it's the ruler. It's the culprit. Just as the fall is the culprit for other pains such as cancer and miscarriages and Alzheimer's. Deeper than that, if we do blame God for these tragedies than where do we find comfort? Healing? Safety from the depth of pain and grief? What else compares? I think it's natural to ask God why...why so young, why young daddy's, why men who were at the prime of their youth. But in those moments I hear the lyric to the song how deep the Father's Love for us where it says, "how deep the pain of searing loss, the Father turns His face away." I choose to find His peace in that, knowing that He mourns with us, He cries with us, He wishes death and loss never would happen either. He holds us and He alone can get us through this.



The 4th was different this year and probably will be for years to come. Our town is known for 4th of July celebrations and the traditions it holds. But it was quiet this year, it was sorrowful and it just wasn't the same. It didn't seem right to celebrate when so many were picking out flowers for the funerals and getting last memories from the men they loved. We visited the memorial down by the fire station instead and honored the lives lost. Jack found a little circle of matchbox fire trucks and he lost it because he thought they were for him. I tried to explain they were for the daddy's who lost their lives in the fire and that maybe their little boys would get to take one home. Jack cried the whole way home. I think it's overwhelming, even for him at 3.  The somber looks on our faces probably scare him a little too. He asked me "why did they die in the fire?" when I explained it to him one afternoon during nap time. He gets it. We prayed for all the little boys who lost their daddy's and thanked Jesus for our daddy.

This town will recover, it will heal eventually, though not fully. But for now, there's not much to do but listen and comfort and help however possible. The helpers even need helping because the pain hasn't been kept from anyone. Not even a little three year old who wanted one of those firetrucks.