My sweet Grandmother went home to be with the Lord recently. I had taken a hiatus from the blog and then her health began fading, and since she passed away I didn’t know how to get back on the blog and write about it all. Every time I thought about her, I thought about how Shiloh only really remembers her after she was unable to communicate much. And Capri, well, she won’t have any memories of her great-grandmother. But me, well, I have plenty. I choose not to remember her only in her last months, but rather when she would visit me when I was a little girl. Those are the memories I will tell Shiloh and Capri. When they ask, I will tell them how their great-grandmother always made cookies when we stayed at her house. How she kept her kitchen impeccably clean. How she was a genius when it came to solving crossword puzzles. How she was short, but that didn’t stop her from walking quickly everywhere she went. How she was soft spoken. I will tell Shiloh how she chased her around the floor with a tissue trying to wipe her nose, but that little Shiloh was actually too quick for great-grandma. I will tell them all the good stories. My grandma was a wonderful woman, and just because she isn’t with us anymore doesn’t mean her legacy is not.
Fall has officially arrived. And in our neck of the woods that meant temperatures down in the 20’s at night and rainy, cold weather. Hence my two week hiatus from the blog. We have been busy snuggling up, weatherproofing, cleaning up the yard, and pulling out the winter coats. I trust that while I was away you were busy getting your fill of carmel apples, pumpkin spice lattes, and looking fabulous in your fall boots. 😉
After two weekends of blistery bad weather. We finally had a sunny, and warmish weekend. We took the girls to the local family operated, Adams Berries & Produce farm. They have a lovely produce stand that sells delicious fruits and veggies. Once we got word that there pumpkin patch would be open, we hopped on over. It is only 10 minutes from our house, how great is that?
The girls had fun, Shiloh took us on quite a trip through the patch to find the ‘perfect’ pumpkin. Ah, 3 years olds. Capri just wanted to eat the pumpkin. Ah, 10 month olds. We came home with great pumpkins and some sweet corn. There is something about pumpkin patched that just ushers in the fall for me.
Daddy: Does God talk to you?
Shiloh: Yea, he does. I flew up to the mountain with him.
Daddy: Really? And What did God say?
Shiloh: He said, “Wow, that’s cool.”
Shiloh: Mom, LOOK! Its the twinkle little star!
Shiloh: I need to fly to it, and sing to it.
Shiloh: “Twinkle twinkle little star…”
Shiloh: Good morning Mommy. I want some cereal.
Mommy: Okay sweetie. Give me one minute.
Shiloh: I want Honey Bunches of Boats.
(after going #2 in the bathroom at her grandparents’ house)
Shiloh: Mommy! I’m done!
Mommy: Great, you can wipe yourself.
Shiloh: Daddy! I’m done!
Daddy: Shiloh, you can do it yourself.
Shiloh: Grandpa, I’m done!
Mommy: Shiloh! Grandpa isn’t going to wipe you, you can do it yourself.
(quiet for a long time)
Shiloh: RooRoo? Come here RooRoo!
(she found the weak link)
A friend: Shiloh, did you have a good day?
Shiloh: Yea…. I had a LONG day… (sighing)
Friend: Really? What did you do?
Shiloh: I danced. (sighing) And played. (sighing) It was a LONG day.
To all the missionaries we know. To all the ones we have never met. To the person who has been on ‘the field’ for 30+ years. To the one who just left home and has started their journey. To the one who goes routinely. To the one who has gone once. To the one who is raising money right this very moment to go to another nation and share the gospel. To the person who is called to stay in their own country, work in a particular field, go to school, to call a place not far from home their mission field. To the one who is changing their community, their neighborhood, their own family. To the one who has sacrificed it all. To the one who misses family events, major holidays, and seeing friends and family face to face. To the young missionary. To the old. To the families. To the little babies born into a missionary family. To the missionaries from all denominations. Thank you! You are courageous, you are bold, you are faithful, you are servant-hearted, you are loving, you are needed. You are valuable to God’s kingdom, to the broken people. You are missed by loved ones. You are inspiring to many who feel that quiet call to GO. You are supported. You are not alone. You are doing God’s work, and He is glorified in you.
This little pistol is 9 months old. She has now surpassed the amount of days on the inside of my belly with her life on the outside. Its crazy. Capri is so very different than her sister. She is adventurous. She has a sense of humor that spills out of her 9 month old self. She is a spitting image of her father. She has an insatiable appetite for life. If you put her down on the ground, she wants to feel the grass, feel it in her hands, feel it in between her toes. She wants to touch and explore the world around her. She never stops moving. Ever. I have a feeling when she gets the hang of her feet beneath herself, I am going to never stop moving either. She is happy, happy, happy. Really. 90% of her day is spent being content, entertained by whatever we are up to. Her best friend is Shiloh. Its adorable. Brandon and I cannot make her laugh the way that Shiloh can. Many nights we hear them giggling after we turn out the lights and put them to bed. Sister giggles. I pray that those giggles turn into whispers, and those whispers turn into a lifelong friendship of late night talks and phone conversations. This little lady is my favorite. Well, okay, Shiloh is too. A mom can have multiple favorites, right?