Happy New Year!

 We were blessed to have Miss R with us for the weekend.

Every little girl needs a pair of red shoes.

I hope she will always be able to be a part of our family.

 The whole package.

 Perfectly Precious Princess!

 Oh the love!

 And the personalities!!!

 Bringing in the New Year with Joshua.....

 The blessings are beyond my ability to express.....

 Happy New Year from our house to yours.

December Sundays AKA For the Grandparents

We have several special Sundays at our church. Songs and the Christmas story were performed by the youth and children.
We had seven participants.
We drove four cars to church, making 5 trips in all.
Crazy, I know.

 All gussied up.

 The plaid shirt and red vest were popular this year.

Joshua generally hangs with his "girl" friends.
His friend Emma takes care of him.
She has been so sweet and helpful.

 Micah? Well, let's just say he was the youngest.

 At least he is listening to Jesus.

 These two knew most of the words.

Erik was bling-all-over as the head wise man. 

 

Brownie points if you can spot five Petersons.

I had whiplash trying to give everyone equal time.

Our youngest, Micah, kneeling at the manger.
Giving Jesus his heart.
My heart melted.
*************************************
Christmas Sunday morning. 
What does a mom of many do? 
Ties shoes.

Straightens hair. Sees how bad the ends are. Cut.

Since the hair cutting stuff is out, 
might as well give a much needed trim.

All this before church. 

In the afternoon, we went to the girls' piano recital.

The teacher asked the girls if they wanted me to accompany them.

The videos are for the grandparents!!!

Christmas Eve

For the past few years we have gone super easy on the tree decorating.  Having multiple children continually under the age of three precipitated the simplicity which showcased our beautiful tree this time.

  Christmas Eve candlelight service.
We squeezed into one row.
Barely.

 Micah slept through the whole thing with his good friend,

Dave, whose lap is always ready.

 Our first Christmas together.
Indescribable.
The wonder and awe of learning about the birth of Jesus
through the eyes of a child.

 Let's amass for a family photo.

 I meant, let's try to get it together people.

 It's six o'clock and the little boys are HUNGRY.

 Christmas Eve 2011.



 They are so cute.
Many moments of sheer joy as we enjoyed our Christmas together. Not sure how many more we will have like this. The kids are growing up.

 Meanwhile, here is what was really going on.

Gorgeous!
Blessed!
Love!

Does My Heart Good

"Boys! Go outside." 

Notice where that exclamation point is.

  Does my heart good to see Joshua be able to keep up.

Joshua was running back up the small hill.

I kept checking on him.

Telling him to rest if he was tired. 

"Sure, Mom."

Yeah, whatever.

 Zoom!

 Bless-ed three!

 Can you stay like this sweet boy?

At least forever?

Photo Credits: Lindsey Peterson

12/27/2011

Tuesday Happenings

There isn't any running around going on here. 

Or last minute shopping.

Or Christmas craziness.

Just togetherness and love,

in the midst of some serious noise.

 Life is a bit more laid back this week. 

Pig pile on the brother?

You should have heard the squeal.

   The boys were playing house with Lindsey's cat. 

I love their little conversations.

 PLEASE tell this child he is allergic to cats.

Like ASTHMA allergic.

 Lindsey took the EEKC four to karate

and the boys watched Jonah - Veggie Tales style.

They were then inspired to become pirates 

and worked for 45 very quiet minutes.

 I have yet to figure out how the "Pirates Who Don't Do Anything" 

managed to conjure this up in their minds.

He is holding a Power Rangers video.......

  My three magnificent musketeers.

Boys will be boys?

Sailing My Ship - Guest Post

It is that time of year...and I don't mean Christmas...I mean the end of December. Almost January.

January holds a lot of meaning for me. Over the years I have spent a lot of time in Africa in January.  When I went over for the first time I left part of my heart there.  I felt it.  And now each year like clockwork I find myself going back to:

Holding very sick babies. So sick that they might not make it back to the clinic the next day.  Malaria is a real killer.  I have met him.

Sharing my one granola bar with 10 village kids, when I know that is all they will eat today.  1 granola bar divided by 10...doesn't go far.

Cleaning flesh wounds 3 months old and infected beyond recognition on a 4 year old little girl because it was her responsibility to cook dinner over an open fire and she fell into that fire. Hands first.

The laughter. The pick up games of soccer. The giggles. The sheer amusement of ballon animals.

The hugs.

Let me tell you, I have always been loved, but there is no other place on earth that I feel more loved than Africa.

I was looking at my passport today and thinking how cool it was that I have filled 7 pages with stamps. 7 pages. If you pointed to each stamp I could tell you a story that would break your heart. Orphans, disease, poverty beyond what we can even begin to imagine in the United States.

I downplay that places I have been, what I've seen, and the stories I've been told. Sometimes because people don't want to hear.  Other times because I don't have the words to describe it.

Sometimes I am ashamed of my inability to share my experiences.

One of my favorite quotes: "A ship in port is safe, but that is not what ships are built for."

I have sailed in some pretty choppy waters, and I will be the first to say that being docked in port is nice.  Comfortable.

But...

You don't make a difference by being comfortable.  You don't leave a mark on this world by being comfortable.

The last thing I want is to get to the end of this life and realize that my ship doesn't even have a scratch on it, because I was too much of a wuss to take her out and put her through her paces.

Oh, no.  I won't let that be me.  I want to seek out the choppy waters, the uncomfortable.  'Cause that's where I will make a difference and where my mark will be.

That's all I got.

Written by my daughter, Lindsey, age 22, who has been all over the world seeking the and saving the lost. This post is especially poignant to me as I am still reeling from my "mission trip" time in China.