Randomness at it's best.

* Isaiah's finger is healing well - he will have his stitches removed in three days.  He takes the bandages off at LEAST twice a day and walks around the house with an eternal "This Little Light of Mine" pose. 

* I got new exercise shoes!  (I had a rather large setback with my 21 day plan so I have regrouped and am now back at it, with a little twist that works better.  It feels so good to MOVE.)  Probably an unknown fact about me ~ I wear a size 11 or 12 shoe!  Thankfully I am tall so I do not look like I am always wearing snow shoes, but I'll tell you what ... it makes finding shoes very difficult!  I am rarely, if ever, able to find shoes on sale because I either have to shop at Nordstrom or online since the average store (especially the discount stores) do not carry larger sizes. And if they do, my selection consists of neon green sneakers with an orange stripe down the side or a chunky metallic shoe with a 4 inch heel.  Really?  That is the best you can do for large-footed women?

I found these snazzy PINK numbers at shoes.com and they are so good to my feet.  I actually look forward to lacing them up for a work out!  If only the shoes could do the work FOR me and yield the same results.  Ho hum.

* Tonight we are having dinner with some old friends - at the beach!  They invited all of us - The Eastman Eight - for an evening of tri-tip, fun, and beach walking.  I am really looking forward to it!

* I had an amazing conversation with a friend last night, which was supposed to be for her, but ended up ministering to me in a significant way.  I love it when that happens ... you think you have something to offer, but the Lord turns it around and shows you things you need to see and prune in your own heart.  A godly and Biblically-centered conversation never returns void!

* I cannot sleep with my feet under the covers - they have to be outside in the fresh air.

* I know every single lyric to the song "Rapper's Delight" by the Sugarhill Gang.  I love old school hip hop/rap - when the lyrics were clean and non violent.  I am a major rhythm and beat junkie - the more percussion the better!  I learned "Rapper's Delight" in junior high and never forgot the words.  Thankfully, I know more Scripture than rap songs so I can still get into heaven.  HA!

* I love SPEED.  If I could ride in a speed boat, fly in a jet, or race a hot rod once a week I would be a very happy woman.

* I have been craving the Psalms lately.  I know why - it is because of Joanne and the young woman and the way their stories have affected my life ... the Psalms bring comfort and perspective and a full serving of God's promises.  I feel like I am being enveloped in them and I am soaking in every moment I spend pouring over the pages.

* I could eat Mexican food every day of the week.

* I could eat ice cream every night of the week.

* When I told my groom that his icon, Jack Lalane, died this week, he looked at me and asked, "Did he work out right before he died?"  This coming from a man who on his 43rd birthday did three of the most difficult workouts possible and when asked why responded, "Because I CAN."  I, ate mint chip ice cream.

* I am paralyzingly afraid of snakes and spiders.

* I love giraffes.

* I wish I knew how to dance.

* I love getting pedicures and wish I could go every week.

* Laughing is my favorite thing to do in the ENTIRE world.  Make me laugh and I am your friend for life.

* I never feel like I do enough.  I could always be serving more.  Encouraging someone more.  Listening better.  Loving more purely.  Thinking of others more than myself.  I am not sure I will ever feel completely content with how I spend my time.  I feel like I waste countless hours every day because I am just not looking hard enough for ways to serve.  Hmmm ... something to pray about.

* I feel an incredible burden to start seeing others as God sees them.

Precious.

Valuable.

Eternal.

I am not always good at that.  I need to improve.

* The one benefit of knowing I will never be pregnant again is the joy of having only one wardrobe.  I am looking forward to getting my body back, finding some fun staple pieces and starting to build a wardrobe that I can use for a lifetime.  I am a classic, linear, clean dresser ... a great pair of slacks, pretty sweaters, feminine dresses, fantastic shoes, and a few fun pieces of jewelry make me feel like a million bucks!

* I like salty more than sugary - but together - Wow!

* I love watching my kids enjoy each other.  I mean, complete, uninterrupted joy as they are absorbed in an activity together.  When I hear words of encouragement, or "good job", or see them do a random act of kindness just because ~ I am on cloud nine.

* I love my husband.  Not because of all the things he does for me, for our children, or for our family.  I just love HIM. 

* And I will never cease to stand in awe when I read God's Word and am reminded that He WANTS me.  He PURSUES me.  He DESIRES me.  How could life get any sweeter?

The end.

Even more real now.

We have read the biographies of both Jim Elliot and Nate Saint as a family, and were incredibly moved and challenged by the intense passion with which these men lived each day of their lives.

So it seemed fitting to watch the movie, "The End of the Spear."

A film which chronicles the story of the five men who willingly laid down their lives to bring the Gospel to a people who had never heard of the Living God.  The Auca Indians in Ecuador.

If you have not read the biographies of the men, the movie will be nothing more than a Hollywood flick that may or may not be appreciated.  But if you HAVE studied these men, read the excerpts from their personal journals, seen the photographs and video footage from their first meeting with Acua's on the beach ... this movie will grip you in a way that you will not soon forget.

It is narrated from the perspective of Steve Saint, Nate's son, who lived in Ecuador with his parents as a young boy and was there to hear the news that his father had been speared by Auca warriors.  It chronicles the Auca tribe, the five American missionaries, and Steve himself as each of them are led by our powerful and purposeful God on an amazing and unforgettable journey.

The Aucas were a people who lived in a cycle of vengeance and hate that could not be broken.

Jim Elliot, Nate Saint, Roger Youderian, Pete Fleming, and Ed McCully ~ five men who had a passion for finding people who had never heard of their God or the saving power of Jesus Christ ~ five men who willingly gave everything ~ who resolved to die for the sake of the Gospel.

Five men whose deaths resulted in an entire tribal nation finally understanding and living Forgiveness and Love.

Because they were willing to die.

They made an agreement that even if attacked, they would not strike back.  They refused to allow violence and hate to keep these people from knowing and understanding the truth of Jesus Christ. They wanted to show them another way.

When Nate Saint said goodbye to his wife and children on that fateful day, his son asked him, "Dad, are you going to defend yourselves if they attack?"  Nate looked at his son and said, "No, son.  If these men die they will not go to heaven.  We know where we are going and we are ready."

Commitment.
Passion.
Purpose.
Unwavering faith.

It is hard to watch.  Even when you know what is coming, it is hard.  I sat on our couch, next to my sons, with tears streaming down my face as I watched these men willingly and joyfully surrender their earthly lives so others may gain an eternal one.

When Steve Saint is a grown man, he returns to Ecuador for the burial of his aunt, who spent her entire adult life serving and ministering to the Auca people.  A people who now know and love THE ONE AND ONLY God.  While there, one of the tribesmen reveals to Steve the truth of that day ...he describes what happened, he shows Steve the exact place on the beach where the men died, and even recovers part of the buried plane.  And then - in a moment of sheer agony and humility, the warrior looks Steve in the eye and says, "I speared your father."  What follows next is an incredible example of mercy, love, and forgiveness.

It rattled my boys.  It challenged me.

People ~ missionaries ~ around the world ~ are willing to give up comfort, family, and security in order to share the beautiful truth of Jesus Christ with people who do not know the story.

They are willing to suffer.
They are willing to die.

Their stories have to be told.  Their lives have to be remembered.  For it is because of them ... their willingness to fully surrender everything to a powerful and mighty God, and be USED by Him ... that heavens gates are full to overflowing with people of all colors, nations, tribes, and tongues.  They lay down their lives for their brothers out of obedience to a God who did the same for them.

"The same Lord is Lord of all and richly blesses all who call on him, for, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” 

How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can anyone preach unless they are sent? 

As it is written: “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!”

Romans 10:13-15

Much better.

If you remember THIS STORY, you will understand why I find this ...

... so much more pleasing!

I found it in the Etsy world.  I actually found at least 5 captain's whistle necklaces so I e-mailed each one of the creators and asked, "Can you tell me if this whistle can be heard across an ENTIRE house that is not quiet?"

Two did not respond.

Two of them responded with, "Sorry, it is pretty quiet - more for looks than function."

And the last one said, "I just tried it and it is loud enough!"

SOLD!

I love it.  I just love it.

Let's sum up.

In light of last night's tragedy, I thought I would take a quick stroll down tragedy, I mean, memory lane to recount what our children have endured under our care.

                      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Micah - stitches over left eyebrow after being hit in the head with a bat during t-ball practice.

Micah - stitches on his chin after tripping on a set of stairs at Goofy's Kitchen in Downtown Disney.

Luke - stuck his finger in the hole of the seat belt latch and spent about an hour trying to pull it out until it was so swollen that we had to stop at a fire station (in the middle of nowhere on the way home from Sacramento in crawling traffic on Thanksgiving weekend!) so they could save him from permanent residence in our minivan.  They cut the seat belt and then put his hand, with the latch still attached to his finger, in a vice grip and sawed it off with a tiny saw while they dripped water from an ice cube to help reduce swelling. (And yes, I have photos!)

Caleb - stitches on his scalp after playing under the bleachers at a football game - he stood up and smacked his head on a piece of metal and put a hole in his scalp.  To this day he has a bald spot where the hair can no longer grow.
 
Luke - allergic reaction to something (we still do not know what) causing him to break out in hives over his ENTIRE body.  Had to be covered in cream and sleep naked.

Micah - had a double ear infection so severe that he actually went deaf.  I had no idea, I just thought he was ignoring me when he did not answer when I spoke to him.

Isaiah - whooping cough at 4 months old.  Had to sleep in our room for a month so we could hear him cough and bang on his back to make him start breathing again.  I remember hearing Dennis in the middle of the night saying, "Come on buddy, breathe for me."

Caleb - fell off of a 10 foot cliff at a nature center and landed on his head - no stitches but he had an impressive road rash scar to show for it.

Caleb - slipped getting out of the tub, smacking his head on the toilet, spent three hours in the ER for three stitches.

Caleb -  found out he was allergic to Penicillin when he broke out in a reddish-purplish, dotted rash all over his entire body after three days on meds.  We asked the doctor how we would have known he was allergic if he not broken out in a rash.  "Well, he would have stopped breathing at some point."  "Oh!  Good to know.  Thanks."

Josiah - was sitting in someone's lap when he was about nine months old and decided to "jump", which landed him head first on the concrete floor of our family room.  (we converted our garage)  He immediately threw up, but recovered rather quickly after that.

Isaiah - foot burned in bathtub water and fingertip sliced halfway off in the space of three days.

Ellie - dropped on accident when a brother was holding her and tripped on the leg of the desk, causing her to fall SMACK onto the concrete floor of our family room.  Praise the Lord she hit her head on the side and was not at all injured other than a little bit of swelling.  She was only two months old at the time.

                       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The flu, scrapes, bruises, cuts that a tight Band-aid could cure, goose eggs, rolling off beds, scratches ... and I am sure I am forgetting many of the incidents that have occurred in our family.

I knew life with boys would be filled with excitement and craziness ... I just never knew how long the list would be with FIVE of them!

And with all of that, I would not change a thing!

Isaiah update.

My guys just got home.

Isaiah sliced his index finger down to the bone, but did not break or crush it.  He has five internal stitches and five external stitches in the shape of a jagged "z."  He has a fancy gauze glove on his hand to keep him from touching and/or ripping out the stitches and will have them removed in about 10 days.

Praise the Lord that it was such a minor injury compared to what could have been.  He will see the doctor again tomorrow to make sure blood is flowing properly so he will not lose the tip of his finger.  If that is the worst that can happen, we are okay with that!

Clearly our son is unaffected by the tragedy as evidenced here.  He was starving after the four hours of drama and he had to eat before we could give him his meds to prevent infection ~ hence the gleeful look over a bowl of dry cheerios.

He spent 45 minutes buzzing about this house like a crazy person ~ it was hysterical!  Apparently fatigue, hunger, Lidocaine, and hospital fumes make him rather loopy.  Good to know!

We are so glad the Lord protected you from a more traumatic injury, Isaiah.  You are our sweet, precious boy ~ and we love you!

Life with little ones.

My little guy, Isaiah, has been particularly fussy lately and has had a string of unfortunate mishaps in recent days.

~ He has incredibly sensitive skin (thanks to me) and gets awful rashes on the inside of his legs after two minutes of a dirty diaper.  He ends up walking like a bull-legged cowboy because it hurts for his legs to touch anything - including cloth.  He could have ridden a horse quite easily today with those flaming red legs.

~ On our vacation we turned on the bath water to fix a bath for him and the hot water got hot QUICK. (ours takes forever) Isaiah was standing at one end of the tub (it was huge) with only one foot touching the water, but ... it got hot so fast that by the time Dennis realized what had happened Isaiah had a bright red, and incredibly swollen left foot.  He never cried from pain ... just limped around the resort for a day.  Sheesh.

~ Also on our vacation, he was playing around the coffee table and thwacked his head right on the corner of the table resulting in a nice little goose egg and purple bruise in the middle of his forehead.

~ And the grand finale?  After a very whiny afternoon (someone, who shall remain nameless, broke the cardinal rule of napping and woke him up from his nap), I was getting ready to leave for a much anticipated meeting for the Baby Ministry and heard him whining.  AGAIN.
I yelled over my shoulder, "Isaiah, E N O U G H!"  Dennis and the oldest boys walked in the door at that moment and the next thing I know, Luke is screaming, "Mom!!!  Isaiah is bleeding!"

I ran to the kitchen to find bright red blood all over the tile from the rapid flow of blood coming from his hand.  I could not find the source until I ran his hands under the kitchen sink and was shocked to see that he had almost sliced off his entire fingertip.  I had no idea HOW he did it at first because I was more concerned about stopping the bleeding, which I could not do.  (we threw out a dish towel soaked with blood - how can such a tiny person with such a tiny finger produce so much?!)  Thankfully, Dennis walked in at that moment (my fantastic husband who worked in an ER for eight years and can fix/handle/solve any medical emergency without flinching) and took over.  He gave the finger one look and said, "Pack a bag - we are going to the ER for stitches."

So here is my little Isaiah, flaming legs from a rash, sore foot from a water burn, a divot in his forehead, and now a fingertip that may not have any feeling left in it by the time this day ends.  My poor guy.  He has survived four older brothers, but cannot win a fight with the lid of a can. (which he dug out of the trash by the way.)

I cannot wait for them to get home so I can kiss this little face!

Did you know ...

 ... that I have an addiction?

I am totally, 100%, completely addicted to SCOTCH TAPE!

I always think those who know me are aware of this, until they see me pull out my roll, tear off a piece and start "taping."  It is then that I see the strange look on their faces and the question in their eyes, which is quickly followed by, "What are you doing?!?"

I am almost 40 years old and I have yet to meet another person who has this obsession.

People ask me "Why?"
All I can say is, "It makes me feel better."

There are so many options for calming nerves, reducing stress ... coping.  Some people bite their nails.  Some tap their fingers.  Some whistle.  

I play with tape.  

When I am really, really stressed, I am a chain taper.  I can go through an entire roll in a day.  In fact, when I was a high school counselor, my boss would poke her head out of her office and ask, "Michelle?  Are you okay?  I hear the tape dispenser working pretty hard out here!"  Crazy.  And for my birthday one year, she gave me an entire box of Scotch tape rolls ~ one of the best gifts ever.  (if you didn't know, tape is expensive!)

So ~ there you go.  A little known fact about Michelle Eastman.  I bet you will sleep much better tonight.

What is your strange/secret/crazy habit?   Tell me!  I really want to know!

Thoughts.

I am journaling our vacation for my own growth more than anything else.  I want to remember how much I enjoyed the simple things ... the slow things ... the things I feel I never have time for in my everyday life at home.

Is life a continual vacation?  Of course not.  But I can certainly set aside time to create vacation-like moments each day.  More than anything, I have loved our times as a family when we are all together, playing a game, being silly, tossing a football on the lawn, or sharing a bag of popcorn.  So easy.  So calm.  So necessary.

These few days have impacted me.  I arrived with a heavy heart and a mind that had been racing with intense thoughts and questions and prayers.  I could not fall asleep our first night because my mind was consumed with thoughts of Joanne, the woman in a coma.  Her daughters have not heard her voice for a week.  Her husband has not seen his wife's smile.  Her parents are wondering if they will have to say goodbye to their precious girl.  I just keep asking the Lord how He will be glorified in all of this.  If she wakes up and knows who she is, who her family is, and is completely whole ~ people will stand amazed!  The doctors and medical community will say "it is a miracle" but wonder who should get credit.  Non believers will say "That is incredible!" and wonder how it came to be.  Her husband and everyone who sat by her bedside and held her hand as they watched monitors for days on end will testify to God's provision, protection, and the countless times they saw His hand move on her behalf.  They will praise Him.  Joanne will praise Him.  And people will listen.

But what if she does not wake up?  Or what if she does wake up but is not the same woman because of the effects of the stroke?  Will people respond with the same joy?  The same wonder?  Will anyone want to hear her story without evidence of the miraculous present?  How will God be glorified if things do not end up perfect?

There is no way to answer that question because we do not have the mind of the Lord.  We cannot understand the supernatural and we certainly will never understand the age old question of "why do bad things happen to good people?"  Joanne loves the Lord.  She adores her family.  She spends her days serving and encouraging the saints.  Why would the Lord want to call someone home who is affecting eternity?

And yet.

Psalm 139 tells us that our days were written BEFORE there was yet one.  There is no promise that we get to live a long or satisfying life.  We seem to have this twisted thought process that only old people are "supposed" to die. We are sad and grieve the loss of a grandparent or beloved family friend, but it seems natural because they were old and gray.  And then someone dies young and leaves small children behind.  We cry out "tragedy" and question why.  They had so much life left to live ... what will these kids do without their dad? ... why would God take someone so young?

But if we know who our God is and we know His Word, we already have the answer:

"My frame was not hidden from you
   when I was made in the secret place,
   when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
   all the days ordained for me were written in your book
   before one of them came to be."

No one wants to lose a spouse and raise their children alone.  No one wants to stand at the graveside of their sibling, or mourn the loss of a best friend.  A mother can hardly console herself when she watches her child take her last breath on earth.  A husbands heart breaks while he holds his dying wife in his arms ~ the wife he cherished and adored and laughed with for 55 years.

Death hurts.  It pushes us to a place that brings more heartache than we feel we can possibly bear.  Joy seems impossible.  Laughter and frivolity are a fleeting memory.  Our eyes swell, our body aches, and our heart is broken.  How will life ever be the same?  How can we go on?

And then, in those still, quiet, sorrow-filled moments, the Lord meets us there.  He wraps His arms around us, He holds us close to His chest, He lets us weep ... He gives us the freedom to scream and rage and cling desperately to the hope that it is not real.  And when the rage is gone ~ when the tears slow down ~ He quiets our hearts and reminds us who we are ... a precious, precious child of a God who knows this is the most difficult thing we have ever had to endure, and He will wait patiently as we stumble minute by minute until our tear-stained eyes are focused once again on Him as we follow where He leads.

Death changes life.  It is never asked for.  We would avoid it if we could.  But once we see death, experience its sting, and are able to praise the God who  gives and takes away, we are never, ever the same.

I know, because I have never been the same since the death of my son.

Some would say I have no business comparing the death of an unborn baby with that of a mother, a husband, a brother, or a friend.  And maybe they are right.  All I know is that until that moment ~ the moment I held my son in my arms, fully formed, completely whole ~ a son who would never know me, never see his smile reflected in my eyes, never enjoy the pleasures this earthly life holds ~ until that moment, I never fully understood who my God was.  I knew He was big.  Powerful.  Loving and just.  Forgiving, merciful, a protector and a friend.  But I did not understand His compassion, His comfort, His grace, His healing, His abundant goodness and strength in the center of intense pain.  I could not have known because I had never been there.  I had never had a reason to see and understand that side of the Lord.

But He needed me to see Him ~ all of Him.  And I am in love with Him more than ever because of it.

I miss my son.

A husband is begging the Lord for his beloved to wake up.

I loved the Lord before Matthew died.

He loves the Lord while he waits to see his wife smile at him again.

The day I delivered my son I surrendered everything I was, all of my plans, all of my desires, to the Lord.

He is already seeing what surrender looks like.

Neither of us chose the pain.  Both of us would do things differently if given full control.

But I guarantee, with all of my being, that both of us will never again look at sorrow or tragedy or death the same because the Lord met us in our pain, He meets us still, and He will pour out His grace and His mercy to cover our hurting hearts until He calls us home.  We have seen Him.  He has been more real to us in the heart wrenching moments than in any joy-filled one.  And though, if given the chance, we would save our loved ones in a heart beat, we would not exchange the intense, all-consuming tangible touches of the Lord that soothed our aching hearts and calmed our restless minds as we waited on Him, clung to His promises, and trusted that He knows better than  we do ~ in all things.

I ask the Lord every day to let this faithful groom see the sparkling eyes of the bride he so longs to see.  And then I ask the Lord to go before Him and prepare him for what is to come.  Because either way, the Lord will be glorified and this man's life will never be the same.

And every person he meets, everyone who hears their story, will see the hand of God, will know His power and His goodness, and maybe, just maybe, they too will call upon the name of the Lord ~ and they will never be the same.

"I love you, LORD, my strength.

 The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;
   my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge,
   my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

 I called to the LORD, who is worthy of praise,
   and I have been saved from my enemies.
The cords of death entangled me;
   the torrents of destruction overwhelmed me.
The cords of the grave coiled around me;
   the snares of death confronted me. 

He reached down from on high and took hold of me;
   he drew me out of deep waters.
He rescued me from my powerful enemy,
   from my foes, who were too strong for me.
They confronted me in the day of my disaster,
   but the LORD was my support.
He brought me out into a spacious place;
   he rescued me because he delighted in me.  

To the faithful you show yourself faithful,
   to the blameless you show yourself blameless,
to the pure you show yourself pure,
   but to the devious you show yourself shrewd.
You save the humble
   but bring low those whose eyes are haughty.
You, LORD, keep my lamp burning;
   my God turns my darkness into light.
With your help I can advance against a troop;
   with my God I can scale a wall.

As for God, his way is perfect:
   The LORD’s word is flawless;
   he shields all who take refuge in him.
For who is God besides the LORD?
   And who is the Rock except our God?
It is God who arms me with strength
   and keeps my way secure.
He makes my feet like the feet of a deer;
   he causes me to stand on the heights.
He trains my hands for battle;
   my arms can bend a bow of bronze.
You make your saving help my shield,
   and your right hand sustains me;
   your help has made me great.
You provide a broad path for my feet,
   so that my ankles do not give way. 

The LORD lives! Praise be to my Rock!
   Exalted be God my Savior!  

Therefore I will praise you, LORD, among the nations;
   I will sing the praises of your name"

Psalm 18

It's working!

I am happy to report that our vacation days have been nothing but relaxing!

Here is what our Monday looked like:

* sleeping in ~ aah...

* big breakfast of eggs, bacon, cinnamon rolls and fruit

* Micah and Isaiah and I took a walk on the grounds in the gorgeous morning sun

* we played catch and frolicked on the lawn outside of our room

* Dennis took all 5 boys to the pool and water slide for the morning while I stayed home with Ellie.  We played, took photos of ourselves, and had a grand old time as mother and daughter.

* lunch for some very hungry boys who had been swimming and sliding for two hours

* the three older boys and I went down to the Farmers Market and loaded up on fruit, snacks and a rack of ribs for Dennis (his favorite food and his motto is "You can  never have too much sauce!")

* Dennis and the big boys went back to the BIG water slide and went down at least 30 times. (The beauty of being here in the winter is that there are very few families, due to school, so we have the run of the place!)

* our two older boys got into a skirmish so Dennis made them suffer for about 30 minutes doing bear crawls, fireman carries (little brothers are good substitutes for hoses), push ups, burpees, lunges, prisoner of war squats ... and all of this while our neighbors looked on, which made the consequence even better!  His philosophy is, "If you have enough energy to fight, you need to put it to good use.  To the mat!"

* We had a delicious spaghetti with meat sauce dinner, everybody showered/bathed and then ...

* KARAOKE!  My friend Ginger got a karaoke machine for our family for Christmas and the boys have been itching to use it.  They had a great time and we decided to have a contest on Wednesday night before we leave.  I now understand why people get so hooked - you need to PRACTICE!  Knowing the lyrics does not mean a thing if you sound like a dying cow when you sing.  I think Josiah was our best performer with his rendition of "Jesus loves me."  (I got a kids CD for the littles)

* we put the littles to bed and then the rest of us played a game of CLUE and watched "Cake Boss."

It was a great day!

Simple.

Slow.

Relaxed.

Fun.

Just what this mom needed.

Happy Tuesday!

Just what I need right now.

This is my goal.

In five days I want to look and feel this relaxed.

Right now I am sitting in a wonderful condo in San Diego.  My three little people are sound asleep.  My three oldest boys and my groom are playing games and hooting and hollering in the rec room.  It is so quiet I can actually hear the hum of the refrigerator.  I have nothing to do.  Nowhere to go.  Nothing to accomplish.

I just have time ... to be.

I haven't had that in a long time.  And right now I feel like quiet and peace and an empty list of "to do's" is exactly what I need.  My heart has been heavy.  My mind has been running in rapid fire motion.  It is time to be still.  To pray.  Think.  Read.  Or not.

It is definitely time to smile.  And laugh.  Hug my boys.  Sing to my daughter.  Have long talks with my husband.  Play games.  Be silly.  And most of all, just live in the moment.  I am not good at that.  I plan everything.  EVERYthing.  Even fun!  It is completely unnatural for me to "wing it" and see what strikes me as fun or pleasant at the moment.  I do, however, live with seven other people, most of whom love impromptu fun and excitement.  So I am going to try living in their world these next few days.  Let them decide what, when, where, and how ~ and just go along for the ride.

And maybe, just maybe, I too will be loose and relaxed enough to sling my limbs over a tree and watch the world go by ... savoring each moment ... praising God for the good He continually shows us ... and trusting Him to help me make sense of the chaos.

3, 2, 1, GO!

A battle within.

I am at war with myself.

Two strangers, two people walking through an incredibly difficult time, two people who do not even know I exist, two people whose lives do not touch mine in any way, and yet ...

the knowledge of their struggles has completely consumed my mind and forced me to search Scripture and wrestle through questions that scholars have debated for centuries.

How is it possible to:

live like "This is the first day of the rest of your life!"

AND

"Live today as if it was your last."

Some would argue that they are one in the same.  "Make every moment count."  "Live life to the fullest."  "Live without regrets."  Whether it is the first day of the next 50 years, or the last day you will ever walk the earth, "Make it count!"

But I do not feel like they are the same.  If I am living today as if it is the first day of thousands of days, I am going to view it as a beginning.  I will plan.  I will make lists and pursue goals, jot down ideas for birthday parties and Bible studies and discipline.  I will put off certain tasks because "that can be done tomorrow."  I will not always be thinking in the NOW because I imagine a future full of joys and unknowns.

If I am living like today is my last day, I will spend every single second pursuing those I love ~  for that final hug, that final goodbye, reconciliation, our last time of worship and prayer together, words that need to be said, tears that need to be wiped away, telling my husband everything I love and appreciate about him, clinging to my children as I implore them to remember that God has a purpose in this and He has a plan for their lives without me.  I would not worry about the size of my hips or my lack of fashion sense.  I would not be offended or irritated over silly things.  I would only be thinking of RIGHT NOW.  Nothing else would matter.

There has to be balance.  There has to be a healthy perspective.  If I live like my last day is today, nothing will get done.  I would not care about laundry or dishes or schoolwork.  People and relationships would be my sole focus.  My only passion.

If I live as if I have countless years ahead of me, I will not be as quick to give a hug or pursue a hurting friend, because I can do it later.  Right now I have dishes to wash, errands to run, and meals to make.  I have lessons to plan and diapers to change.  "I will call her after the kids go to bed."  "I will meet her for coffee next week after our vacation."

And then she has a stroke and will not wake up.

She is told by her doctors that she has only weeks to live.

But washing my dishes is not wrong.  Teaching my children is not a sin.  We are called to do everything as unto the Lord, and while we need to be constantly checking our priorities to make sure we are pursuing things that matter and seeking Christ first, He has called us to DO.  He gave me a husband and children and He commands me to care for them, to train them, to love and serve them.  He has called my husband to the university to train teachers and provide for his family.  We each have work to do.

But He has also called us into relationships ~ with Him ~ with our families ~ with our brothers and sisters in Christ ~ and with the lost.  We are clearly commanded to encourage and exhort one another, pray with one another, rebuke one another and turn our brother from sin, remember the Lord's death, fellowship together, praise God together, and bear each others burdens.

There has to be a way we can cook a wonderful meal for our family and minister to our friend in the same day.  There has to be a way we can resolve a conflict on the same day we teach a child to read.  There just has to be a way.

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

Last night I sat on our couch, physically exhausted, and mentally drained.  All of the boys were in bed and I had just finished feeding Ellie.  My mind was spinning out of control as I wrestled through these very thoughts and could not come to a resolution.  I was not really focused on what was going on around me until I heard Ellie crying.  I handed her to Dennis and then let my thoughts roll right back to the battle within.  I could hear her cries in the distance of my mind and then all of a sudden it was quiet.

I looked up and saw my daughter dancing with her daddy.

She was nestled into the strong arms of her father, cooing and talking as she listened to his voice.  All was right in her world.

And it struck me.  This earth is filled with noise and pain and trials and disappointments.  There is heartache and devastation and unresolved conflict.  Perfection is unattainable.  Sin always gets in the way, and holiness waits for us on the other side of heaven.

But when we lean back into the arms of the Father and let His voice soothe us as He whispers His promises into our ear, the noise becomes quiet.

And everything will be alright when we dance with our Daddy on streets of gold.

Our first guests!

Janice Reel and her son Nathan were our first winners of the Eastman Family Operation Christmas Greeting.

It was such a fun night!  The boys and I prepared the house and food and then all of the boys sat outside on the curb waiting for our guests to arrive.

We enjoyed stuffed manicotti, salad, and garlic bread for dinner and topped it off with chocolate cake and mint chip ice cream for dessert.

My dear groom took care of the dishes and the littles so Janice and I could enjoy a quiet conversation together.  It was so nice to focus on her for the entire evening and listen to her share about her life and find out how I can specifically be praying for her.

Janice is one of those woman who exudes joy.  She wears a continual smile and shows genuine delight for everyone she comes in contact with.  She is discreet, loyal, sincere, honest, and makes people feel needed and appreciated.  We have been friends for quite a long time and though we do not get to walk life together day by day, we always enjoy our moments of conversation and laughter and look forward to our next exchange.

I admire her faithfulness and perseverance as she raises a young boy ~ with all of the challenges that come with such a task.  She moves heaven and earth to care and provide for Nathan and the Lord has blessed that faithfulness in countless ways.  I know my friend struggles and has days she wants to escape to a quiet beach and just rest and indulge in her own desires, but she doesn't.  She pulls herself together, hugs her son, trusts the Lord to get her through the day, and she presses on.  She always presses on.

She is an amazing woman.

She is an incredible mother.

She is a cherished friend.

I am grateful that she allows me to be a part of her world.

Thank you, Janice and Nathan, for a wonderful evening.  Thank you for giving up a night to spend with our family.  We enjoyed every single moment.

With love from Your Eastmans

Time to think about it again.

In the past three days I have received two significant e-mails from friends.  One was a prayer request for a young mom who collapsed from a major stroke and now lies in a hospital bed while her family waits to see if she will wake up.  The other was about a teenage girl who has just been told that she only has several weeks to live.  She has been battling cancer for a few years and has now lost the fight.  She will die.  She knows this.  And yet she praises God.

I pray for both of these ~ the woman ~ and the girl who was about to become a woman ~ and it seems such a strange thing.  I do not know them.  I have never met either of them and would not recognize them if they knocked on my front door.  And yet my heart aches for them.  I think of the mom, who just the day before was sitting by a cozy fire in her living room and enjoying every moment with her family.  No one saw this coming... and their lives may never be the same, even if she does wake up.  There are two girls who will walk through the rest of their lives quite differently than they had anticipated.  There is a husband sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, holding the hand of his bride, clinging desperately to every promise in Scripture, praying she will wake up and be the same woman he kissed good night only a few days ago, yet knowing that he may never hear her say "I love you" again.

And a mother and father who have tirelessly served a sick child.  Countless appointments, surgeries, and treatments ... balancing those needs with the needs of their healthy children .... bills to pay, holidays to celebrate ... meals to cook.  They did all of these things with hope and a deep joy that their daughter, though ill, was a part of it all.  And now they must say goodbye.  Every hug will be precious.  Every smile will be burned in their minds.  The camera will click continuously to capture all of the last moments, and in a few weeks, their family will never, ever be the same.

What do we do?  What are we supposed to feel?  How do these moments shape us?  Grow us?  Mature us?
We know there is a time to weep and a time to mourn.  We know death is a part of life and no one escapes.  This knowledge does not take the pain away, it does not change the end result, but it does leave a tiny light glimmering inside of us because we know that death has no victory over the believer.  We know that the God who created this mother and this child is the same God who is grieving with the hurting hearts of those who love them.  He hears their cries, He feels their pain, He collects their tears. 

"The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

Psalm 34:18

I have been thinking on this every hour of every day since receiving these e-mails.  Death is a difficult topic for most.  Impossible for some.  But it cannot be ignored.  The Lord is often more glorified through the suffering and death of a saint than through his earthly life.  Why?  Because in the darkest and most difficult moments, true character is revealed.  Faith is seen.  Trust and surrender to a huge God seems ridiculous and radical at the same time as we watch a child of God smile through her tears as she lifts her arms to heaven singing, "Soon and very soon I am going to see the King!  How great Thou art!  Blessed be the name of the Lord!"

And that is how it should be for all of us who claim Jesus Christ as Lord.

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I wrote this a while ago, but it seems fitting right now ... I pray that your heart and mind will be drawn to a place you rarely go so you can taste and see the goodness of God even when your world is crashing down around you.  We do not know the day or the hour for our own life, or for those we love.  We can only rely on a God who is bigger than we are, who calls us to follow where He leads, and asks us to trust and obey.  Even in death.

Even in death.

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We all know we will die "someday" but seldom do we live as if this is true.

Some have the blessing of knowing death is coming and they get to choose how they will approach it. With bitterness and self-pity or with fervor and passion, making the most of every opportunity for the kingdom of God.

God is unchanging. He is perfect. Holy. Just. Loving. And merciful.

Even in the dark moments.

Even when we ask "why?"

Even when we cannot possibly understand what He is doing.

He is God.

People laugh at me and say that death is one of my favorite topics. I have always scoffed at that, but you know? The older I get and the more I come to understand my God, I do love the topic of death. Because no matter the story, no matter the "how", no matter the long or short goodbye - the Lord is ALWAYS glorified in the life of a believer. Death of a saint ALWAYS turns our hearts to Scripture. To God's promises. Either because we do not understand Him, because we are desperately searching for answers, questioning our faith, or simply trying to find the comfort that only He can give ... death ALWAYS leads us back to the cross.

Death is real. It cannot be stopped. It cannot be predicted. But it can be embraced by those who are trusting in the One who holds each of us in the palm of His loving hand. There is no fear of death for those who trust in Him. There is fear of letting go, leaving loved ones behind, fear of no control. But there is no fear of seeing the face of God and living forever in His glorious presence ... there is only sweet peace as we quietly slip into the arms of the Father who lovingly created us, and who lovingly calls us home ~

in His time.

May we all be this committed.

Jan Hus was a pastor in the 1300's who, like John Wycliffe, believed that the Scriptures held more authority than any man or clergy, and were completely sufficient on their own.  Of course, this went against everything the Church taught, which, at the time, was corrupt in some places and seeking power and wealth more than godliness.  Jan Hus saw paintings of Jesus, barefoot, washing the feet of disciples contrasted with paintings of the pope in gorgeous robes with kings and pilgrims kissing his feet and knew that the two were not equal, and unacceptable.  Reform was needed, and people needed to see the truths of Scripture for themselves.  He began to preach with passion and like John Wycliffe, was deemed a heretic and sentenced to death by the Church Council.

While he sat in jail awaiting his conviction he penned this message:

"To the Whole Bohemian Nation:  

Faithful in God, men and women, rich and poor!  I beg and entreat you to love the Lord God, praise His Word, and gladly hear and live according to it.  Cling, I beg you, to the divine truth, which I have preached to you according to God's law.  ... I write this letter to you in prison and in fetters, expecting tomorrow the sentence of death, full of hope in God, resolved not to draw back from the divine truth."

He was sentenced to death by burning at the stake and when they reached the place of execution Jan prayed aloud:  "Lord Jesus Christ, I will bear patiently and humbly this horrible, shameful, and cruel death for the sake of Thy Gospel and the preaching of Thy Word."

He was stripped and tied to a stake and when all was ready, the flame was applied to the wood and straw.  Jan was first seen praying, then singing a hymn of devotion.  The wind blew the flames in his face and John Hus was united with his Lord in Paradise.

There may very well come a day when American Christians are asked to renounce God or die, just as so many of our brothers and sisters have been forced to do around the world for centuries.  We bemoan the attacks and hypocrisy and the loss of our religious freedom that has already been set upon our backs, but it could be worse.  It can always get worse.

Do you have the mental fortitude to willingly walk to the gallows?  To be tied at the stake?  All in the name of JESUS CHRIST your Lord?

Do I?

I pray it may be so.  And I pray that my sons will be men who are willing to stand up to evil and cowardice and say, "No, I will not yield.  Jesus Christ IS the son of the living God.  He is the ONLY way to heaven and I will gladly surrender my life, my heart, my all for the sake of the Gospel."

I would guess that the tears and heartache of mothers and fathers, wives, and children who watched their loved ones sacrifice themselves for the sake of the Gospel and for the Lord are immeasurable.  But I also imagine there was a sense of intense pride as they saw them living out the Word of God with absolute confidence and without fear ... "to live is Christ but to die is gain."

May we all be found as faithful.

 

Where I belonged.

This morning I had the privilege of worshiping with my church family.  I have missed multiple weeks off and on due to having a newborn.  I hate missing church but there are times when taking a baby and just sitting in the exile room (AKA "cry room") where you cannot hear the message amidst a myriad of distractions seems senseless.

But there is also an intense pull to be in the presence of other believers.  Smiles, hugs, silly exchanges, and meaningful conversations go a long way to calm a restless heart, soothe a swirling mind, and provide a source of contentment and joy to propel us through the coming week.

Today I stood with my husband and a friend and worshiped the Lord through song.  My heart was filled to overflowing and  tears rolled silently down my cheeks as the words of "How Great Thou Art" spilled through my lips.

I love and serve a GREAT God Who knows what I need more than I do and always meets me exactly where I am ... and leaves me better than I was.

"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful.  And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching."

Hebrews 10:23~25

I am looking forward to this!

Friends to grow old with  ~ laughing together ~ comfortable in our own skin ~ relaxed ~ not taking life so seriously ~ loyal ~ consistent ~ honest ~ able to call out a wrong and gently restore each other in love ~ common interests ~ silly moments ~ deep conversations ~ praying together ~ memorable moments ~ sincerity ~ love ~ Friendship.

Every time I see this picture it makes me smile and I want to be in my own red towel laughing with them!  Don't they look completely content?  At ease with life?  With each other?  I love the feelings this picture evokes. The face of each lady exudes joy.  A true joy.  One that can only come from Christ Himself, who so willingly fills our hearts and minds with it, if we will simply ask.

Old and gray, wrinkled and bent, and blessed with women who will sit with me in a sauna as we laugh until we cry, or weep with each other until we can smile once again ...

I am looking forward to all of it!

That is what I like to hear!

Yesterday I sent a prayer request to some friends ...

Hi ladies,

I am writing with a twinge of embarrassment to ask you to pray for me.

I had two moles removed yesterday, and when I say removed, I mean SCOOPED OUT OF MY FLESH.  I have avoided going to the dermatologist for 4 years because this is what always happens.  I get an infection within the first 24 hours due to my sensitive skin, and a rash because I am allergic to adhesive tape (band aids).  Though the spots are small, they are in areas that get touched/rubbed constantly and they are painful.

My actual prayer, however is for my attitude!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I am already crabby and angry that I have been hacked up AGAIN.  And I am dreading the phone call telling me to come back to cut away more.  I have been snippy all day and Dennis finally looked me in the eye and said “WHAT is going on with you!?!?!”  I wanted to cry in frustration as all of the years of cuts and drama came flooding back, and the fact that we are here again just makes me want to scream.

It is a simple flesh wound for goodness sake, I have not been told I am dying of melanoma, and it will end.  But man, my mind was quickly overtaken with frustration before I even knew it was coming so I could fight back.  I will not bore you with my laborious life of skin cancers but it has been a looooong road and I have many scars to prove it.

My attitude stinks.

The Lord is not pleased.

I need to shake it off.

Argh.

I left right after I sent the e-mail to go visit my friend and did not receive any of the responses until late last night, and a few this morning.  I had already shaken off most of my frustration (a delightful evening with a kindred spirit will do that for you!) but the physical pain was still there, as well as the frustration.

As I read through the responses of my friends I started to laugh.  None of them coddled me or told me what I wanted to hear.  None of them gave me fluffy or trite responses.  What they did do was encourage me and tell me what I NEEDED to hear.  They spoke truth. 

Find ONE thing about each of your children that you ADORE and tell them today!

It always helps when we can get out of ourselves for a bit!

The Lord will change your heart attitude, you're already halfway there.  And thankfully, you have a husband who's willing to speak up (even if it may not be quite what you want to be hearing at the time) and ask 'what's up', instead of just being a jerk because he's annoyed.  You're boys will see you as human, and all of these things, along with all of your training, are teaching them how to eventually live with their wives in an understanding way.

Thanks for sharing your struggles.  That is really frustrating to feel like a dissection experiment! It is annoying when there is no end in sight.  This world has nothing for us... We & it are all decaying daily.  Can't wait for heaven!  

selfishly i was relieved to read this and see that one of my friends is doing/feeling/going through the same thing.  i guess i am not the only one.

i will pray for you.  and gladly pray, for it will force me to not wallow in myself.

love you.  heal up!

I'm sorry I didn't know about this and couldn't be more sympathetic last night.

Love you and sorry you are enduring.

That being said-SHAPE UP And get your attitude TOGETHER!

That is what you wanted someone to say, right?

love you so,  (this was my favorite!)

Michelle, how great is our God that He knows the life that He has laid before us.  He allows these moderate inconveniences and test to be endured so that He might cultivate the strength, endurance, and peace for those real hard times that you know all too much about. 

I simply am praying that you might be re-newed right now!! That you will tell Satan to take a hike, because you are a child of God and you can be joyful in all things!!!  Be it “Fluffy and scarred” oh well!!!!  I encourage you to walk in faith and in truth.  Fill your mind with what is real and not what could be or might be!!!!!! 

(Job 34:29) "When He gives quietness, who then can make trouble?

And when He hides His face, who then can see Him, Whether it is against a nation or a  (MOLE) man alone?"  Ha ha!!!! 

TAKE COURAGE MY FRIEND!!!!!  HAVE A CUP OF TEA! TURN ON SOME PRETTY PRAISE MUSIC AND BASK IN THE LIGHT OF THE LORD!!!!!

Though my morning was already better than my yesterday, after receiving the last e-mail, I obeyed.   I went and turned on praise music, I made lunch for my kids, and I held my daughter.  And you know what?  The Lord met me there.  He gave me peace.  He gave me proper perspective.

It is so good to have friends who will tell it like it is, not let me wallow in my self pity, and push me back to the Lord when I am facing the wrong direction.

I am truly, truly, and thrillingly BLESSED.

Reviews that really mattered.

The hardest part of being a mother of a large family is that no one gets enough of me.  No one gets all of the attention, hugs, accolades, encouragement, or time they need, crave, or desire from me.  It is impossible.  Even with my ability to multitask (reading aloud to the boys for school while nursing, overseeing math lessons while loading a dishwasher, etc) there is simply no way I can be all things to all people.  And it is not the tasks of life that usually suffer ... the laundry is always done because people need clothing.  The dishes are always clean and meals are made because people need to eat.  It is the emotional needs of each of my children, and Dennis, that can often times be pushed aside, neglected, or missed altogether.

And as a firstborn "I must do everything right or I am a failure" kind of personality, this dilemma can cause hours of contemplation, self loathing, and frustration.  It is embarrassingly easy for me to begin the destructive thought cycle of "If I only did xyz better, I would be a good mom."  "If I would just do lmnop for Dennis I would be a much better wife."

The worst part of that cycle is that the Lord is insulted.  While sin is certainly a part of human life this side of heaven, the Lord Himself created me in perfection ~ in His image.  He placed me in the position of first born.  He made me intense and efficient and logical and orderly.  He made me serious with a craving for depth and loyalty.  So when I start to list all of my weaknesses and faults, I am not honoring the work He did in me.  I am focusing on the sin that entangles me ~ either by choice or by default ~ and He is not praised.

I have spent a lifetime seeking to control my thoughts.  It was not until my early married years that I found the verse that I now treasure:  "We are destroying speculations and every lofty thing raised up against the knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ."  I Corinthians 10:5

If you have known me long, you have heard me say "That is not of the Lord."  "That is from the pit."  I have learned to train my mind to know where thoughts come from so that anything that is negative or goes against Scripture can be immediately squashed.  It is not always easy, and sometimes I wrestle way too long with an ungodly thought or fear, but I keep fighting until I am able to take it captive and fall back in the arms of grace and security.  I am so grateful that the Lord does not give up on us!

I feel inadequate as a mother when I cannot meet the needs of all of my children.  There are days when I put them in bed and wonder, "Did I even touch any of them today?"  I see negative behavior and think, "That is happening because I am not spending enough time with him."  And on it goes.  So I had a decision to make.  While I certainly have weaknesses and flaws as a parent, the Lord equipped me to handle the task of caring for a large family.  He trusts me ... He believes in me ... He created me for this.  So the negative thoughts and feelings of inadequacy are not of Him and I need to take them captive and toss them aside.  And in that process I can ask Him to give me wisdom and creativity to find ways to meet the needs of my children in a way that is pleasing to Him.

So what did I do?

I sat down with the older boys individually for a "Mother Review."  I told them that I want to be the best mom I can be and the only way to do that is to know what they need from me.  I asked them two questions:  What makes you feel loved by me the most?  Time, hugs and kisses, gifts ...  What do I do that frustrates you or what am I not doing that you need me to do?

I have to say, I was quite nervous.  I encouraged them to be brutally honest ~ which is not difficult for children!  I enjoyed each of the discussions and I feel like I was given an intimate look into their hearts ... and though not totally surprised by what they shared, their honesty helped me resolve to be more purposeful in my pursuit of them as individuals.  I kept notes while we talked and have a list for each boy.  I am so excited about this!  The Lord revealed a way for me to find out what each of them need so I can specifically meet them where they are and satisfy those needs.  I know I will still miss the mark once in a while, but at least I know exactly where to aim!

This is what they shared with me ...

Micah's love language is gifts.  (I explained that this does not mean he will have a present waiting for him each morning when he wakes up and he understood.  Whew!)  He feels that I do not give him enough affection and would like me to hug him much more.  He also asked that I would be more sensitive to his dyslexia ... that I would listen to him when he is frustrated and not assume I know what he needs.

Luke's love language is physical touch and affection.  He wants much more affection and we agreed that if I have not met his need, he can come to me and say, "Mom, you haven't hugged me today!" and I will stop what I am doing and provide the touches he craves.  He gets really frustrated when he feels I am not listening to him, especially when it regards a dispute.  He asked that I would let him have a chance to share his side before I make a decision or sentence him as guilty.

Caleb's love language is time.  He wants more!  He does not care one iota what we do as long as we are together.

I am so thankful the Lord laid it on my heart to look each boy in the eye and ask what he needs from me.  There is no more guessing or wondering, just facts.  I can do facts!  I am eager to begin a new phase of motherhood with these three guys, and so, so curious to see how it changes our relationship and how the Lord uses it to make each of us better.  With the Lord in the middle, there can only be success!

The Lord gave me five sons and one daughter ... not to create earthly greatness or worldly awe ... but to raise them for eternity.  And the only way I can get to their hearts is by loving them the way they need to be loved ~ and trust the Lord for the rest.

Today was a very good day for this mom.