Recent Photos

Photos of huckleberry picking, onion harvest, first day of school, and "Snakey."

Wagon Ride, Liberty Lake Hike

Recent Photos in Chronological Order (Last is most recent)

Evan often falls asleep reading books (he LOVES books)

Ruthie made herself an office in the kitchen (note the drawing of a keyboard and monitor).

Evan is getting quite good at drawing. This is his Christmas Tree (age 2).

Grandpa Garner added legs to the kids drawing table.

Evan and the new chicks.

Rachel loves Riverdance

Yes, Rachel IS wearing a Disney Princess costume, wool camping socks, and heels.

Art Room

We love our new "art room" (formerly garage/junk room).  The kids spend hours in here in a whirlwind of papers, crayons, markers, paints, glue, and tape. Let's hear it for old, nasty carpet! It is so nice to dress the kids in garbage bags and just let them go at it and not have to have their creations occupying the same counter where I serve dinner.

Help me do it myself, Mommy

The other day, my morning wasn't going too smoothly, and I was struggling with patience.  It probably had a lot to do with the fact that I had stayed up too late the night before.  Later that same morning, Rachel was playing with megablocks.  (If you don't know what those are, I should explain that they are like very big legos, and they can only be connected in straight lines or at ninety-degree angles.)  She was trying to construct a castle whose foundation was 6 units long on one end and 7 units long on the other end, and of course she was having trouble getting the other sides to connect.  Frustrated, she asked for my help.  I tried to explain the problem and remove the offending piece so that the sides would line up, but Rachel refused to accept my explanation and quickly reinserted the piece I had removed.  So I backed off and let her struggle with it a bit longer.  Again, she grew frustrated and called me over to help her, and again she simply would not believe what I was telling her nor allow me to touch the castle to maneuver the pieces.  She was sure that if she could just find the right pieces, she could make it work. So I backed off again.  This happened several times until finally, when she asked for my help again, I told her that I couldn't help her anymore, because she wouldn't accept the help I had offered, and she would have to figure it out on her own.

As I walked away from her, the thought suddenly struck me, "How many times have I done that to the Lord?"  I say, "Please help me be a patient mother," and the Lord says, "Go to bed earlier."  So I go to bed earlier for a few days, but then I slip back into old habits and go back to being a night owl.  Pretty soon, I am frustrated again, and I find myself thinking that if only I could find the right de-escalating technique, the right calming words to say to myself, or the right deep-breathing exercise, surely I could be a patient mother.  And perhaps those methods can help, but ultimately they are not the solution, and I continue to struggle.  Again I pray, "PLEASE help me be patient today!"  And again, the Lord gently reminds me that if I would just remove that one offending piece-- staying up too late-- everything else would fall into place more easily.  It is no wonder that after a few times of this, I have a day where I am "left unto myself," as the scripture says.  It's as if the Lord shakes his head and says, "You won't accept the help I've already given, so you get to do this on your own for a while.  I'll come back when you are really ready to listen."  I am grateful that on one such day the Lord allowed me to see the situation from the parental perspective and recognize how silly I have been.  It was one of the many such "aha" moments parenting provides.

In the end, Rachel left the walls of her castle free-standing, not hooked together at all.  And this seemed to satisfy her until adversity came (in the form of her little brother) and, with one great swat, toppled the entire structure to the ground.  And then, oh the "weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth!"  I wonder if sometimes we, too, become satisfied with our own methods and inferior performance, because, after all, we are "doing our best."  Inevitably, when adversity comes, the true strength of our foundation will be tested, and if we have built it without the Lord's help, it will be found wanting.  When that happens, will the Lord laugh and say, "I told you so?"  Certainly not.  Just as I did with my little daughter, he will take us in his arms, mourn with us, and offer to help us build again.