Cultivating Wonder

Discussing (arguing over) what type of animal dug the hole they had just discovered. Raccoon or snake. I didn't realize raccoons dug holes, but my animal enthusiast informed me it's true, and upon doing my research I found he's in fact correct.

Flooded path. "Mom, take a picture that makes it look like we're stuck on an island!" I didn't quite succeed at that, but thought you should know their vision!

Oh my, how I am going to miss these days years from now.

I have been looking so forward to summer and all it allows. I leave lots of time unplanned and empty intentionally for them to create and build and do some work and play with friends, or just be bored. (When anyone comes to me and says they are bored my answer has always been, "Awesome! What are you going to do about it?!" They have learned by now this is what they're going to hear so I don't get that complaint too much anymore. If they do persist in their boredom, though, I have a few good jobs I dole out.)

But I also build in a good amount of planned (though usually spontaneous) adventures, typically free and outdoors. That's our favorite. I study Google map overviews of wooded parts of our neighborhood and surrounding areas to find paths and hikes and we have the best time exploring. For a variety of reasons, we aren't able to travel for the most part this summer but our almost daily hikes transport me to mountain paths in Colorado in seconds. I get my fix. It's awesome. It's not perfect, lest you be deceived by the photos. It's usually super humid and there are mosquitoes and you can count on a few complaints along the way, but it always just feels so good for our souls.

I find that being out in nature affords so many opportunities for great conversations about beauty, creation, and the magnitude of God. We talk about perseverance and strength almost every time we are out because we are usually pushing ourselves physically. The kids ask questions about bugs and animals and streams and plants and then we come home and look them up if we don’t know the answer.

The other day after a hike that included a few wrong turns (the big boys were convinced in a very dramatic way we were lost), we had a great talk on the drive home about how like life the walk was. Things don’t always go as planned, you might get a bit off track, but you keep pushing forward and do the hard work to stay the course.

In any picture you see, there's a fourth child just outside the frame that I'm not permitted to show per understandable foster care rules. And for any picture you see, there are a million other pieces of life that are beautiful and difficult that aren't documented. (Such is social media!)

One of my children who shall remain nameless but not photoless deconstructs all things, all day.  Some of his current obsessions include "cooking" with all the silverware, and watching the water run down the refrigerator front, and then "cleaning up" the water with all the clean dishtowels. This can all go down in about 15 seconds, like while I'm trying to change a diaper in the next room. Then I run in because I hear the drawers opening and he looks up and says, "Sorry, Mom" with a big smile, and it's a good thing he's so darn sweet.  I have never had a child like this one and he amazes and baffles me constantly.  He is so unique and so awesome, and has been through more difficult circumstances in his short life than many grown-ups. I'm excited to see what's in store for him.

Anyway, this little buddy seems to be in his element when we are out on a path in the middle of nature, or when he can plop down in sand or dirt somewhere and dig.  The calming effect of God's creation is a marvelous thing. 

So that's where we head most days. 

“The pursuit of truth and beauty is a sphere of activity in which we are permitted to remain children all our lives.”  -Einstein

“Look at everything always as though you were seeing it either for the first or last time: Thus is your time on earth filled with glory.”  -A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

I see it as such an amazing privilege to have the opportunity to experience wonder with my children- not through extravagant purchases or grand vacations- it doesn't require any of that, though those things can be fun too. I'm sure there are many ways to cultivate wonder with one's children, but right now in my season of life it looks a lot like this: Seeing beauty in the small things everyday, the pleasant and unpleasant alike.  It comes through exploring together- exploring the world right around us and exploring what's deep in our hearts, exploring who God is, what the Bible says, and exploring the greatest ways we can look beyond ourselves and love others extravagantly.

Availability

I love reading about Jesus’s life of care and compassion. His leadership style is fascinating.

During his lifetime he constantly made himself available to those in need around him. He took moments away by himself to rest and pray, but even then folks sometimes followed him. He had compassion on them. He didn’t tell them to go away, but instead spent time with them. He knew that the people needed to know Love and Forgiveness. He knew that He had LIFE to offer.

This availability and compassion inspire me in parenting. But they also teach me about His attentiveness and kindness towards me. He is always available to restore in weariness and weakness and emptiness. Always.

How We Climb

Never stops running. Unless he's climbing. Which keeps life fun and exhausting.

Trees feel magical to kids, and adults if you’re like me. I remember hours spent with my sisters and friends in our kid-made treehouse growing up. Now my children and their neighbor friends spend hours each week in our tree out back. They sit on branches and call them their rooms, assigning each new friend an area. They have raked out a little path leading to the tree and lined it with sticks. They hang like possums.

And it seems wherever we are, they gravitate towards trees and jump right up to climb. They like to go high. And for the most part, I let them.

Instead of being fearful they might fall, I’ve decided to just try and teach them to spot the healthy branches to climb.

Though not perfect, they’re getting a lot better at this. Instead of pausing to rest on a cracked limb with no leaves or a scrawny twig that won’t hold their weight, they look for the strong ones.

This is what I want for them in life too. I want to let them be brave and go high and take risks and work hard. They will have missteps and fall and experience pain, but I don’t want to keep them from that by making them stay on the lowest branches two feet off the ground, or not letting them climb at all. I want to teach them how to navigate the tough stuff.

And most importantly, I want them to rest on the strong and healthy One. No cheap imitations that crumble under weight.

I have felt God kindly invite me to persevere and climb higher in situations that I previously feared or felt were too difficult for me. He’s taught me how to navigate and how to stand in the midst of uncertainty. I’m learning how to cling to Him when things are shaky.

A few days ago I was out running the neighborhood with the babies in a stroller and an older son on his bike beside me. He was pushing himself to go faster and harder.

He said,  “Look, Mom, I’m getting stronger!” Then, “Does it always hurt when you’re getting stronger, Mom?”

Yep, bud. Pretty much.

Pain is usually required to grow in strength. I've been feeling it and I know it's true.

An athlete doesn't build muscle by sitting around and wishing for muscle or reading about it. My kids won't build physical and emotional and spiritual endurance and fortitude if I forever keep them on the lowest branches, literally and metaphorically.

Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

Those words are from the book of Isaiah and I love them. In my weakest moments, they’ve proven true. Strong branches in a tall tree.

---