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  • Deena

From my broken to yours

Updated: May 20

Hello my still at home, homies.

We've made it through the bread baking stage,

the Marie Kondo stage,

the have gym in the backyard stage,

the family power walk stage,

the driveway chalk masterpiece stage,

the let your kids stand in the driveway with a "HONK for Hand washing!" sign and count the honks, stage,

and even the "I'm so glad my college kid is home early," stage.



We have even brought back the banana clip friends.



Desperate times.

I have made it through ALLLLLLL of them and am now in the

Need to get back to blogging so I can remember just who I am stage.

One of the younger ones hung a "bucket list" over her bed not realizing that those are usually lists of things to do before you DIE, not before the school year is completed.

Which now that I think of it, might happen simultaneously.

Rides to Lowe's have been therapy for me.

My whole day revolves around dry wall screw excursions.

We naively decided to repaint while our oldest was scheduled to come home for Spring Break.

Remember Spring Break?

That two weeks in the SPRING where it doesn't snow and you play too many games of ROOK and stuff and then go BACK to adulthood and school?

yeah, THAT.

I laugh so hard writing this because I literally thought, "We will remove trim, we will remove cabinets. We will buy white paint. We will sand the Dickens out of everything and then we will whitewash everything. We will sing and we will laugh and we will put it all back on the walls and we will be one big, white paint, happy family."

What we didn't realize is that our cabinets were already calling for hospice care and one sanding would send them to a better place.

I stood on the back porch and watched them crumble.

My son looked at me and I looked around to see if anyone else knew what just happened and would blame me for their early departure.

We had a moment of silence.

What was supposed to be the end of the "project," was just the beginning of a kitchen overhaul.

I know.

I KNOW.

Didn't we know that it always looks easier and turns out to be something your Grandchildren finish?

No.

No we did not.

I thought if things really got ugly we could just call Chip and Joanna and I could sit back and sip a Macchiato while sweating over contrasting patterned throw pillows.

Instead we have pounded and pulled up and scraped off more of the 60's and 70's then I ever want to recall again.

FYI, bright green-yellow is NEVER a good idea for backsplash and countertops.

Please take that to heart coming from someone who doesn't even really know what shiplap is.

My kids have come down for breakfast asking if bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling make our house a crack house.

So there's that.

It's been chock'full of teaching opportunities.

And we have one learning to drive, one trying to say "Hasta La Vista," to High School and one deciding that living in our basement is so great he may never go back to college.

I am just trying to remember to puree all the onions and peppers for him so he will eat my Mexican food without beginning rumblings of WW 3.

One begs for my coffee, one takes it off the table before I'm done because they know they will get in trouble for forgetting to clean it- ( because in the midst of the bombing and plastic, I can have one table clean with flowers on it.) and one drinks the rest of my coffee when they think I am not looking, enjoying the pieces of raw sugar in the bottom that never had the chance to melt.

So you can say I've never finished an entire cup of Joe in quarantine.

We've had three birthdays and one Mother's Day and one even turned a genuine bonafide "Quaranteen."

We just hung streamers and decorative fans over the dust and drywall.

If I don't laugh at the early knocks on my door for me to proctor a test- finally giving the completion code from the bathroom because Mom is 43 now and needs to go first thing, I'd probably cry.

Well I've done that too.

I've cried over God miraculously providing flooring we thought we'd be asking our kids for at our 50th anniversary party.

I've cried over someone thinking I said something I didn't mean- again.

I've cried over weight gained, tempers lost and because my husband made me a two tiered homemade chocolate cake with the most amazing frosting for my birthday in our crack kitchen.

And you know what?

It's still an amazing wonderful life.

The kind of life where it's exciting to surprise your husband with new underwear because no one thinks to get him any- especially him.

The kind of life where you swap meals with your Mom because you are both tired of cooking, and it just may be the best decision, besides marrying the man afore mentioned that you've ever made on earth.

The life that makes you sweat with your fourth not remembering what color is Trump wishing you sat close enough to him to kick him so you can make your bid and finally beat your oldest daughter.

The life that makes you look like Mother Teressa by showing up with Fruit snacks.

Our date nights have never found us with a cleaner car and better food.

We've taken "movie night in the park" to a whole new level.

We've been together enough to finally find out who has an aversion to dairy and don't ask how we know.

They will not be named but will also never sit by me again for ice cream and games.

So much life is happening in this cracked house that some days I cannot handle it and want to eat a whole party size bag of M&M's.

Sometimes over a bathroom night light, HUGE heart burdens are lifted and spiritual battles are won.

Sometimes fear brings sleeping bags into our room for an unplanned sleep over.

Sometimes discussions over what God wants to do in us leaves us all wishing we would let him.

And most times we realize that we wish we could hold on to all of this life bursting at the seams and remember who hugged the most, who made us all laugh, who always made cookies, who was first to pray and who should never eat dairy again.

This time has turned a microscope on our family unit.

It has been sticky and dirty and some have warts only noticed in close proximity.

Some have stopped blogging because can they just finish a cup of coffee for Pete's sake?!

And some are slipping Corona virus tracts into people's coat pockets at work with a candy bar.

If we believe God ordained this time for our marriages, for our ministry, for our children's lives, then we best shake the drywall dust off and figure out what we don't want to miss.

Can the one-hundreth game of RACKO be divinely orchestrated?

The enchiladas that came out so spicy we laughed and heaped on sour cream?

The piece of drywall falling from the ceiling clearing the entire kitchen table of school work and flower vase?

If we believe that God is in the middle of it all then they can be used to point us to He who has it all in his hands.

If my kitchen is in there those must be some seriously messy hands.

I've lost track of the times I have fallen into bed and breathed a sigh of relief knowing that I don't have to be in charge of it all.

The stats, the masks, the conversations, the algebra, the drywall square footage or even where the Ipad went.

I can rest knowing that the Lord has allowed all these things.

I can look to him.

Tomorrow there will be new dirt and dust, but eventually it will clear.

Joel, if you are reading this, I am typing that by faith.....

Eventually my oldest will go back to college and will be having way too much processed food with his friends who collectively weigh almost one hundred pounds.

The Lord will keep steering him towards his will for him and that is just plain awesome.

Eventually my oldest girl will graduate and wear a cap and gown and will look almost too adorable to handle.

The Lord will get her to college and she will find lifelong friends like my Tis and Wendy and James.

Eventually Mom will decide that they don't have to finish that workbook and we will all rejoice with ice cream and one dairy free.

The Lord will help them remember transitive verbs long enough for it to count- Hallelujah.

Eventually I will write and not need to look up how to spell "Hallelujah."

The Lord will take imperfect words and make sense of them to encourage even just one to keep leaning hard on him.

This is one for the books friends.

This is a new time, new world for us to prepare our kids and ourselves for.

May the brokenness of our homes spill out into the road and show our neighborhoods just how much we depend on the Lord to keep it all together.

I'll be over here looking for a cold cup of coffee if you need me.



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