Where the Heart Lies

In August, when we found we were to be moving homes again, I was stressed. With the shortage of larger-ish homes in Sandpoint, I had reason to be. I kept looking and looking - praying that a perfect home in the right price range would surface.

A couple of days into the search, Nels asked me if I'd considered moving into something smaller and cheaper (which are far more available). Flashes of living in a tiny 3 bedroom apartment with our four wild girls and brand new baby flipped through my mind - along with a flood of the stress of that crazy time. My annoyed answer to his question make me smile and remembering the tears that followed make me laugh right out loud.

Sometimes I think, when faced with a new dilemma, I ought to just sit and think of what I'd like to do the least and then just go with that first. I think it would save me a lot of time. :) My mom always told me, "Never say never." The taste of "nevers" in my mouth has gotten pretty familiar over the years. :) Lucky for me, most of those nevers have turned out pretty well. 

After exhausting all the other avenues and having only a couple more days to find a place to live before the new owners moved into our old house, I finally asked Nels what he thought about moving into a smaller townhouse that I'd previously ruled out. :)

Almost immediately after we got settled into our new home, I felt completely overwhelmed with how comfortable we are here. The layout flows smoothly and after moving a few things into a small storage unit we fit very comfortably. 

It feels like home. Again.

I think this is such an amazing thing. 

Home. 

It truly is where your heart lies - and my heart lies with the people within these walls.

It's a soggy Sunday night. Nels has been taking a much-deserved nap since we got home from church about four hours ago while I've enjoyed some uninterrupted time crocheting and watching Church films and BBC shows. Upstairs my girls have spent the rainy afternoon and evening playing together in their bedroom. They've kept me smiling the whole time as I've caught snippets of their conversation and games. They are quite clearly playing with their new Lego people and building grand homes for all of them. Occasionally I hear them break out in random movie quotes and brief bits of "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree". Clara is napping, but it makes my heart just swell right up to hear my older girls playing so happily with Violet. She loves them so much.

I wish so badly that I could hold on to these moments. That I could perfectly record the little voices as they drift down the stairs, their innocence as they share potions and inside jokes, the quiet, cozy light from the lamp, the drippy-drip off the roof, and the peace I feel all the way down to my toes. I wish I had a way to preserving it so that I could come back to this moment and play it over and over and over again.

This will just have to do - inadequate as it is.

We are so blessed.

Shaping

Two years ago today I sat on Sandpoint's City Beach for the first time. I looked forward to the future with hope and a whole lot of uncertainty.

The last two years have been a struggle for me. I know I written that quite a few times now - and I think part of the reason that I haven't been able to put that to rest yet is that I haven't known exactly WHY.

I've always written pretty honestly on my blog, but even with my openness there are still parts of myself that I guard pretty fiercely and whose existence I don't always like to admit to, even with myself. It's been scary for me to explore these areas, but I've come to see that they are the answer to my question. I'm working on sharing some of the things that I've learned recently but in the meantime, some thoughts . . .

With all of our travels this last month, I've had a chance to step back from my day to day life and allow Father to speak to me. It has felt as though a long winter, followed by a blustery and wet spring, is finally, gracefully moving into a warm and gentle summer. A summer filled with delicate breezes, life-giving sunshine, and a bounteous garden.

Sunday I had a chance to attend our old ward in Idaho Falls. I sat among sisters who've influenced my life in ways that I would never have realized at the time. Women who took a very young mother under their wings and gave me a place to grow and to experience and to learn. It felt like home. Still.

An analogy has been playing though my mind lately and as I tearfully listened to "As Sisters in Zion", it finally, fully and forcefully, took shape.

While visiting my parents last month, a busy Spring had left my mom with quite a lot of gardening to complete. Bountiful is aptly named and in their rich soil quite a lot of things had grown vigorously and beyond their bounds. One morning I looked out the kitchen window and remarked at how beautiful it looked after she'd spent the last few hours pruning. 

"Yes, it does! There were some plants in there that were growing so happy, but they just look so much better when they're growing like they're supposed to."

My mind immediately went to this:

I feel as though the past two years have been filled with pruning. When contemplating our move to Sandpoint two years ago, I imagined the future and myself to be different than they are today. At times I have felt a mourning cry from within. "How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth and now you've cut me down." --- Melodramatic, I know, but still true.

I have mourned for that feeling of home and stability. I have mourned for the relationship that I once had with the Lord. I have mourned for the vision that I had of me.

As I've thought about my mom's drastic pruning, a thought struck me. Had the plant not been allowed the time grow with little restraint, it would never have survived the shaping. It's roots would not have been strong enough, deeply rooted enough to live and continue it's growth.

That's what our time in Idaho Falls has come to be to me. A time and a place where my roots, which had been sweetly planted in the rich soil of gospel truth by loving parents, could grow deep and strong. Firm enough to carry me through pruning and future storms which are sure to come. 

I am coming to see that "home" comes from within and stability comes from faith. I am developing a relationship with my Heavenly Father that is more personal and coming to understand what faith really is. And I'm starting to truly feel the love that Christ has for ME. Not because I am good, but because I am His - and I am good because I am His.

I'm so thankful for a Gardener who knows what He wants me to be and loves me enough to let me feel pain. Who loves me even when I am angry and afraid. Who calls to me and will gently teach me the Whys. 

You're Invited . . .

. . . to Rachel's Morning!

My kids rooms are always a mess. Always. Unless I clean it. Even after THEY clean it. Actually, I'm lumping everyone into the same boat and that's not fair. Elsie cleans her room and makes her bed very well. She's five. Hazel and Lilie's room almost always looks like this:

They are NOT five.

I don't know what's wrong with them, but I'm pretty sure that it's the same problem that I had as a kid, so I'm hoping that someday (probably when they've moved out) the'll grow out of it. 

I've even stopped just shutting the door and ignoring it. I'm on them EVERY. DAY. to clean their room. And they do. But then somehow by the time they wake up the next morning, it looks like this again. I guess gremlins come into their room at night and do it . . . 

I'm going to start painting my family room today! I'm excited. I don't like plain white rooms. As soon as Elsie is off to preschool, I'm going to break into the trim and hopefully have it all edged by tonight.

It's always messy, too. 

But it's big and supposed to be played in, so I don't care as much.

{Except when Vi empties the bookcase. That makes me nuts.}

I really like this room.

And I also really like this room:

I painted it blue and it thrills me.

I love blue. And I love clean, fresh paint.

This kid it sometimes messy, but I don't really mind.

Clara has started eating again. I'm so happy. She was losing weight and she doesn't have much to lose. Who knows what's going on with her.

Our neighbor's basset hound comes in our backyard often. She's cute and her name is Lily. Whenever I call to her, I smile. A lot. "Don't poop in our yard, Lily!" :) Right now she's . . . what's it called when a basset hound . . . yowls? Yodeling? If you can remember the sound that hounds make, ten points to you. :) OH! Nevermind. 10 points to me. I remembered! Baying! She's baying.

Nels broke the whisks on my Bosch several months ago - while making cookies. *Don't add the flour to cookies with whisks.* I mention this because it's random, they haven't been replaced, and I'm using my Bosch to make bread as we speak. 

Yes. We're speaking, didn't you know? 

Except for you, it's sort of like a conversation. For ME, it's only two way if you comment. Sad, huh? 

You should talk to me. So I'm not talking to myself.

And the reason why I'm speaking blog while I'm making bread? Because if I sit down to write something, I can't remember what it was. However, if I just write snippets while I'm doing something else, I'll remember things and not get frustrated that I'm sitting in front of the computer in a stupor.

But now I just realized that I don't have enough honey . . . do I just make two loaves or do I go to the store? I detest going to the store. Think there's a substitute for honey? --- In bread? Doubtful . . . hmmm. We're going to try a little corn syrup and molasses . . . because even if it sucks, at least I didn't have to go to the store. :) 

OH! Happy DAY!!! I just found some extra honey right behind the molasses! My bread is saved! And would you believe it? It was the exact amount that I needed to finish the recipe. Heavenly Father even cares about bread.

I haven't been able to find my measuring spoons for more than a week. Clara takes them. And I just found them in here:

on the floor of the pantry next to a bag of rotting potatoes. One of the worst smells on the planet.

Again speaking of bread - the price that bread companies charge per loaf is CRIMINAL! It honestly costs ME maybe $.50 a loaf (Amber, Julie, Marilyn - have any of you priced out the cost per loaf?). How much could it possibly cost a company with all their equipment and availability of bulk ingredients!? Criminal, I tell you! 

Bread is one of the staples in our house - and we go through a LOT of it. I typically make bread once a week, 4 loaves per batch (I store the extra in my freezer). Comparable bread (that has lots of ingredients I can't even pronounce!) would cost me close to $4.00+ a loaf. It's hard to calculate how much money it saves us every month, considering we eat quite a lot more of my homemade bread (about 4 loaves a week) than we do when it's store-bought. But on the flip-side I buy considerably less snacks because my kids are even more happy eating a fresh slice of homemade bread with butter on it than they would be with a handful of crackers. 

All I know is that if you are considering getting a new kitchen appliance, make it a Bosch (and if you can, a wheat grinder). You'll never be sorry.

Back to how I DETEST going to the store, I have almost all of my Christmas shopping done!!! Online shopping is pretty much the best thing since hot bread. :) I got nearly everything I needed at either Amazon or a cute little online store that is going to gift wrap everything for FREE.

How fun is that going to be on Christmas morning?! Not even I will have seen many of the gifts before they are actually opened! I'm so excited!

I spent nearly two full days sitting in front of my computer in my pajamas. Sometimes I would feel like a loser, but then I remembered how my kids were getting fed, getting TV'ed, and getting napped, while I was price comparing and looking for online coupons -- all without having to drive over 100 miles! That while I was trying to decide between the red or the blue one, I wasn't also having to stop one {or more} of my kids from emptying the store shelves or taking a dive from the heights of the shopping cart and I'd instantly feel a lot better about myself. 

When Nels got home from work and I was making dinner {and wondering if I'd brushed my teeth}, I could tell him of how I'd been shopping all day and nobody had had a major meltdown. Me included.

I wondered if maybe I should wait until Black Friday to buy a few things, but in the end, I figured that the peace of mind in knowing that it was done and everything I wanted was in stock, outweighed the possibility of {{maybe}} saving $20.

Well. My friends.

My bread is risen, baked, and filling my house with the sweet smell of Home. Elsie is off to school. Violet is watching Cinderella. And Clara is emptying out my Tupperware cupboard and all of my clean rags. Again.

It's time for me to leave you and go put in my contacts so I can start in on painting the trim. 

Thanks for keeping me company this morning!

That Loving Feeling

We are no longer home owners. We signed the closing documents this morning.

My feelings are so conflicted on the subject, but overall, I'm am very relieved. Thank you to each and every one of you who have kept us in your thoughts and prayers over the past seven months. What a whirlwind it's all been. Thank you. Thank you.

Another chapter of our lives is now closed and the door swings wide open on this new one.

Eight months ago, Nels was working all night, yet again. He'd been working non-stop since the beginning of the month - getting ready for Melaleuca's Convention. He was stressed to the max. I was less than two months from having our fifth baby girl. I can remember standing in the laundry room tackling "Mt. Washmore" at half-past-way-too-late-at-night and suddenly just losing it. The years of late nights and stress caught up with me and I fell to my knees and told the Lord that I would do anything for Nels to be able to have a different job and be a part of our family again.

Three weeks later he was offered a job at Coldwater Creek.

This last weekend, we packed up our kids for a VERY quick and somewhat spontaneous trip to Idaho Falls to pack up the rest of our house and say goodbye, one last time.

Nels got off work Friday afternoon, we packed and waited for the girls to get home from school, threw everyone in the van, made it to Idaho Falls by about 2:30 in the morning. Bright and early Saturday, we hopped out of our beds on the floor and started organizing, packing, and emptying out my 55 gallon fish tank. A few friends stopped by to visit and help (Hannah Graf (+kids), Brian Carter (+new girlfriend), Ken Dudley, Mark Blethen). All too soon, the movers showed up and the real chaos began. Nels took the girls to Mark's house and I watched as our lives were slowly and efficiently packed away into box after box after box . . .

The movers left that evening with the promise of returning early the next morning to finish. As they were packing up for the night, our dear friends (the Joneses) stopped by to say hi and goodbye, before we rushed them out the door to go to dinner with some good friends from Melaleuca.

As we tucked our tired children into their floor beds for one last night in our home, I was completely overcome with emotion. Nels and I spent the next couple of hours reliving our lives in that home, laughing and crying. The children that have joined our family, happiness, injuries :), stress, loneliness, learning, jumping on the trampoline and swinging in the hammock, countless hours spent digging and planting in the yard and painting and loving every single wall. All the friendships that we've made, the people we've loved, and all the love that has been poured out upon us there. All. the. BLESSINGS.

So many blessings.

The next morning, the movers showed up at dawn, the girls and I took one last opportunity to say goodbye to some friends while Nels and Clara took one last nap in the dark basement, and then before I knew it, the huge semi was pulling away.

We quickly got dressed for church, stopped in to some neighbors' to say goodbye, and walked in (late! of course) to Sacrament Meeting one last time with those people who have been almost like family to us over the past five years. It was a sweet meeting.

I opened the hymnal to the closing hymn, took one look at the title, closed the book, and just let the tears roll. "Because I Have Been Given Much" I looked over to Nels and he, too, was teary. Because truly, we have been given so much. And even though we've not seen most of those people for half a year, they were still giving to us. We were greeted warmly and lovingly and couldn't get away without Sister Beverly Reed "gently insisting" :) upon "just running home real quick" and making us a full meal before we set out for home. :)

While Beverly was serving away in her kitchen for us, we took one last chance to say goodbye to our neighbor Bob Hart - who has been in the hospital for the last several weeks. I will never, never, never think of our lives in Idaho Falls without Bob being a large, shining part of it. Up until the last year or so when his health has given him some grief, there was hardly a single day that I was not greeted with Bob's warm smile and crazy stories. :) He and Ramona have been the best neighbors we ever could have asked for.

Beverly made an entire meal, fed us, and still made it back in time to conduct the closing song in Relief Society. :) She is both a miracle worker and an angel.

Back home we changed our clothes, packed up the van, dug up and potted a few of my friends that I just loved too much to leave behind, and called our children to pray one last time in our empty home. It was all kicks and giggles (literally) until then. (see below)

It started with Hazel, then me, then Nels (sort of {wink, wink}), and by the time the prayer was over Lilie and Elsie were just wailing too. We had a little cry fest while Violet went around hugging everyone and telling them that she was sorry :), then Nels packed his sobbing girls into the van while I said goodbye to my home.

"Smile!" Face

Real Face.

 Six months. To the day. Since we packed up and left in September.

As we pulled away, I couldn't help but think of my prayer eight months earlier. How the Lord has answered me and opened another path before us. The road behind us had been difficult in many ways, but so overwhelmingly good, too. We didn't have to move. It was the path we chose and it will be good  as well. I know it.

Saturday, I was talking to Lilie and asked her what she would miss most about living in Idaho Falls -- fully expecting an answer like, "my friends" or "my room", but

she hit the nail on the head and astounded me with her insight when, instead, she thought for a moment and then said,

"I'll miss the feeling here at this home." 

Home Bodies

 
Life just keeps on ticking right away. 

It is so strange.

I just spent a little bit of time searching through my blog - quickly scanning and scrolling through the years. Turn by turn watching the lives of my children roll past.

Bam! Clara's not there.

Bam! Violet's not there.

Wham-o! and I'm looking at the sweet face of my baby Elsie who is just learning to sit by herself. My itty bitty Hazie with a pretty pink leotard and ballet slippers on and tiny Lilie's got my lipstick smeared across her lips and up to her ears.

We just bought our home. I walk through the pages and see all our hard work. All the love put into it and all the love felt within its walls.

I am overwhelmed.

I looked into the face of my darling baby Clara tonight. I kissed her little cheeks and blew raspberries on her busy little legs. She is just learning to squeal and laugh. Nels and I laugh with her. She is adorable. So often lately as I am holding her I snuggle her up just a little bit tighter and try to burn that moment so deeply into my memory that it won't ever leave. Because I know that this moment will pass. She will grow. So slowly that I won't notice, but so quickly that I'll hardly remember what happened in between. And I know I won't remember. There are vague glimpses in my mind of my other girls being so tiny, but they are not vivid. They are not clear. Just shadows.

And it hurts my heart just a little bit that I can't have it all -- all the time before me. To feel that past and to love the present. I want it all and it's not fair that I can't.

I watched my children tonight.

Hazel - right on the cusp of shooting into her "tweens" (such a stupid word, but it classifies those children that are no longer 'little'), stirring a pan of stroganoff on the stovetop. Dancing for a moment with her Daddy. She's getting so tall and so beautiful and amazes me daily with her goodness and willingness to help.

Lilie - sitting at the table folding bits of paper into swans for her younger sister. She is so meticulous. The handwriting papers that she brings home from school are so precise and clean. She finishes her math in no time flat. She laughs loud and makes up silly names for the crazy meal that Nels made the other night - "Stroganator" is my favorite.

Elsie lay on the couch her head propped on the armrest with the glow of the iPod illuminating her darling face, playing some silly bowling game. Sitting so quietly and happily. I tell her that she's so little and she laughs. I tell her that I love her and I'll love her even when she's big. She laughs again and says she loves me, too. "Elsie, can you stay little forever? Please?" Laughing, "No." Me, "Why not?" Giggling, "Because I want to grow big and be a mom."

Nels calls me from the kitchen, "Rachel, you'd better see this." He is standing at the foot of the couch. I walk over and see Elsie is still there, but Violet has crawled up next to her, laid down beside her - with their heads touching, she watches Elsie's game. She has the softest and sweetest little toddler body. Laying there in her diaper, snuggled next to her sister. I could kiss and cuddle that girl all day. She is what every toddler should be.

Why can't I have it all? Why can't I live in this moment and all the others, too? It's not fair.

I read through my words from yesteryear and can remember who I was then. I am amazed at how funny I am sometimes. Ha! I was so clever and it feels so effortless. Ha ha! Who is that girl? Where did she go? Will I ever see her again?

I miss Home.

I miss Idaho Falls. I miss my family and friends. But it's not really that. In most ways, I'm coming past that kind of "homesick" feeling. What I miss is HOME. This apartment isn't home. I am a home.maker. I want Home. It makes me feel lost and not quite certain what to do with myself without it.

I just hope that when I get to the end of whatever process we're in right now, I can also find the rest of me there waiting to be reunited.

I know that this post is all over the place. Somehow everything that I've written is connected, I'm just not sure where.

Maybe my blog is my way of finding all those different parts of myself, so I can see them and bring them all together eventually. Maybe it's my way of being able to have the past and the present. To be able to live in all these memories. for just a moment. And that's why I need to record them.

Just a Glimpse

I was just going to write about how much I love lazy Saturday mornings.

How much I love that with our east-facing windows, the sun comes shining so beautifully into our bedroom in the morning. With our yellow walls, to me, it's heavenly. (Nels would disagree...he's allergic to morning sunshine.)

And then I realized that this morning was the last lazy Saturday morning with the sun shining heavenly on my yellow bedroom walls that I will probably ever have in this home. And it's over. {tears}

I'm really glad that I captured a blurry, little glimpse of heaven this morning with the camera . . .