Easter 2013

The Smith Family Easter, in iphone snaps:

Egg-dying hyjinks:

Morning readiness:

Sunday finest:

Gracious table:

Indoor egg hunts:

He Is Risen!

Sweet Day.

"Jesus said to her, 'I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?'"

John 11: 25-26

A Dash into Tears

We've been at the pediatrician's twice this week in an effort to get all caught up with physicals and immunizations before the big move. This morning Charlie had his well check and had to get a few shots, which set off a flurry of questions and concerns from the older three on behalf of little bro. They asked me about the "worst shot I ever got," and I ended up telling them about the steroid shot I had to get when I went into labor with Chloe at 23 weeks. Without a doubt, it was the most painful shot I have ever received - I could feel the steroid coursing up and down my veins, and it hurt so badly I cried like a baby. I've had to endure spinals and epidurals, and they don't hold a candle to that steroid shot. The worst part of it all was that I had to get another one the next morning - so for the entire 24 hours in between, all I did was lay in my hospital bed and think about what was waiting for me the next morning.

Sam listened with wide eyes and rapt attention as I told them the story, and then he said, "Mom, if I had been there and saw that happen to you, I would have dashed into tears."

Here he is at his six year old checkup, all bravado and smiles:

He is such a sweetie, this boy. I adore him.

Smith kids get donuts to take the sting of the shot away:

My Journey with Joshua, Part 3

"Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it." 
Luke 18:17

When I was little, I went through this period of time when I was having really scary nightmares.The memory of it is still vivid to me. I was in the top bunk in the little room I shared with my sister, and I remember laying there staring at the ceiling, trying to get up the courage to slide all the way down to the cold wood floor and make the journey to my parents' room.

I'd race down the dark hall as fast as I could and climb into my dad's side of the bed. Both my parents were usually sound asleep and barely acknowledged my presence, but my dad always slept on his side, and I would snuggle up next to him and throw one arm over his shoulder. In that moment, my little world would change, and things would become right again. Knowing that he was with me took my fear away. Alone, I was terrified. But when I flung my little arm over his shoulder and knew he was with me, I knew that I was safe. Even if that noise I thought I'd heard downstairs was a bad guy and he came into the room, my dad would protect me. I didn't have to be afraid.

As an adult, I recognize the naivete of my childlike understanding back then. Hypothetically speaking, if it really were an intruder, we were all in big trouble. Though my dad was pretty heroic, he probably would have met his match in a gun-wielding maniac. But when I was five, I didn't think there was any one or any thing that could possibly stop him from keeping me safe. He always said he would protect me, and I believed him.

When Jesus talked about how much he valued the faith of children in Luke 18:17, He wasn't talking about how much he loved kids. He does love kids - but He was talking about that "naivete" I referenced earlier. Sometimes kids are so much smarter than their adult counterparts. Unburdened with the baggage of the world's troubles, they just believe you when you tell them things. They're so beautifully uncomplicated.

God told Joshua not to be afraid because He would be with him. God tells us not to be afraid because He will be with us. He promises that He will not leave us or forsake us; the study notes in my ESV Bible call this "an assurance of the companionship and strength of the Lord." I loved reading that. This past week as things went up, down, round and round with the sale of our home, I was comforted by the realization that God was not just the mighty warrior I needed to get me through this; He was walking next to me through each moment as a friend.

The peace didn't come easily; I had to keep fighting for it. Satan wanted nothing more than to steal it from me, and he lurked in every quiet moment taunting me with my worst fears:

There is no way things are going to work out the way you hope they will.

Do you honestly think God cares about this? Seriously, don't be so stupid! If He really is God, don't you think He has bigger things to take care of?

I know He says that He's going to make this all work for your good, but look at this person, and that person, and that one over there! Didn't work out for them, did it? Remember that pastor who was praying his little girl wouldn't die? Look what happened - he was way better than you, way more important to God - and she still died. 

You don't have a right to hope.

You should be afraid. In fact, kid, you should be terrified.

At one point I had to get out my dictionary and look up the word "assurance." Here's how it's defined:

"Promise or pledge; guaranty; surety; full confidence; freedom from doubt; certainty; freedom from timidity; presumptuous boldness."

John MacArthur puts it another way:

"God's presence with him was sufficient to enable him to meet boldly every obstacle that the future could bring." {MacArthur Bible Commentary}

This whole move to Rochester? It's not easy. None of it. Not selling a house, or buying a house. Not saying goodbye to dearly loved family, and friends who are like family. Not leaving a church we love. Not being apart for ten weeks and counting. Not starting a new job. Not finding a new community. It's been hard and painful and sad, and it's not over.

What I want to tell you is that God has used it for good in my life. He has taught me things about who He is that no one can take away from me, things you couldn't even begin to place enough value on.

As I journeyed with Joshua, He taught me not to be afraid.

"... for He has said, 'I will not leave you nor forsake you.'" (Hebrews 13:5, quoting Genesis 28:15, Deuteronomy 31:6, Deuteronomy 31:8. Joshua 1:5, and 1 Chronicles 28:20)

"Believers can be content in every situation because of this promise. Five negatives are utilized in this statement to emphasize the impossibility of Christ deserting believers. It is like saying, 'there is absolutely no way whatsoever that I will ever, ever leave you.'" {John MacArthur, MacArthur Bible Commentary}

Friends, if that is not the most excellent news, I don't know what is. In a world full of senseless tragedy, horrific evil, constant annoyances, and unpredictability lurking around every corner, here is a rock-solid promise from the Creator of the universe that He is, essentially, the most perfect friend we could ever hope to have. No circumstance can separate us from His love and protection and provision. That doesn't mean it will always work out the way we want it to. 

It means He will be there with us, and He will walk us through it. 

When we can't walk, He'll carry us. 

And we will come out on the other side stronger for knowing Him better.

My Journey with Joshua, Part 2

I've read the Bible's account of Joshua before, and I always pictured him as this modern-day Matthew McConaughey, taking over for Moses and triumphantly leading the grumbling Israelites into the Promised Land. Does anyone else do this? Reimagine their biblical heroes as the people that grace their television screens each day? All I can say is that in my little mind, Queen Esther bears a striking resemblance to Ali Landry and Noah is totes Wilford Brimley.

At any rate, my bubble burst wide open when I discovered that Joshua was 90. How crazy is that? He was 90 years old. Back then they did live a lot longer than we do now - he ended up dying at the robust age of 110 - but I had to go back and revamp my mental image of the story after I learned how old he was. Bye bye Matthew McConaughey. Hello... Paul Newman.

Okay, getting back to the story. The Israelites had been wandering around the desert for forty years, and at last, it was time for them to enter the land that had been promised to Abraham years before. God told Moses that He wanted 12 spies from the Israelite camp to scout out Canaan and report back on the details of what they saw: What is the land like? What are the people like? Are there a lot of them or just a few? What are the cities like? Well-fortified or easily defeated?

Joshua, his buddy Caleb, and their ten cohorts spent forty days scouting out Canaan, and when they returned all but two of them were convinced that there was no way they could march into it, defeat everyone who lived there, and seize it for themselves. Here's what they had to say:

"We came to the land to which you sent us. It. flows with milk and honey and this is its fruit [they had brought back a giant bunch of ripe grapes]. However, the people who dwell in the land are strong, and the cities are fortified and very large."

Then, the ten defeated spies dealt the final blow:

"And besides, we saw the descendants of Anak there... we saw the Nephilim and we seemed to ourselves like grasshoppers."

The only other time scripture references the people called the Nephilim is in Genesis, and it is thought that they were a group of people who lived before the flood. They were mighty warriors and apparently very big people. Some commentaries refer to them as giants. Joshua and Caleb were the only two among the twelve who believed that despite the obvious circumstances, they should still move forward with the plan God had set before them.

So what does all of this have to do with me and Rochester and our house contract falling through?

A lot, actually.

God commanded Joshua three times in five verses to not be afraid.

"Be strong and courageous..." [Joshua 1:5]
"Only be strong and very courageous..." [Joshua 1:7]
"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous..." [Joshua 1:9]

His timing is interesting; you don't have to be Einstein to discern that there was a lot that Joshua could have been afraid of. The people he was being called to defeat were well-known as physically imposing, frightening people who had no regard for God or His laws. His fellow scouts - probably good friends - thought he was nuts for continuing to trust God and move forward, and basically abandoned him. As if that weren't enough, he was leading a bunch of flakes who had just decided to forget him and God and the last forty years and head back to Egypt instead. He had everything to be afraid of, and God was telling him not to fear.

This command from God is what led me to Joshua last week. I know that as a Christian, I don't need to be afraid. I've memorized Phillipians 4:6-7 about being anxious for nothing - I can say it in my sleep. I've listened when friends have walked through their own seasons of fear and reminded them heartily that fear is not of the Lord. I don't even think I knew what that meant, but someone had said it to me once and it sounded wise. When everything went from bad to worse last week in a matter of hours, though, I became terrified. I think the crux of it was that I was afraid of what might happen.

If we didn't get new buyers, what might happen?
If we had to put the house back on the market, what might happen?
If we got new buyers but then they backed out too, what might happen?
If we had to cancel the contract on our new house, what might happen?
If we have to continue this life in limbo, what might happen?

As I struggled through the what if's, God put Joshua on my heart through a series of circumstances only He could orchestrate, and I opened up my Bible and started reading.

Okay, I'm not supposed to fear. I got that. But what I really need to know is, WHY? WHY do I not need to be afraid? Will You take care of all of this quickly, and the way I want You to? Will You make this easy for me because I love you and call myself a Christian? I already know the answers to these questions, and they're both no. His ways are not our ways, and as I've grown in my faith I've watched dedicated Christ followers endure tragedies that have made me shudder. He also warns us to expect trouble, even to welcome it. This place is not Heaven, it is the fallen world, and Jesus warns us that it is going to be hard. So why in the world should I not be afraid?

Stay tuned for Part 3 of the story :-).

My Journey with Joshua

If you're someone who's been reading my blog but not necessarily talking to me on a daily basis, you might be under the impression that this process has been a bed of roses the last few weeks. We sold our house really fast, we're buying a beautiful new one... If you're anything like me, you might read the words on the screen in front of you and imagine that I have some luscious green grass growing here in these parts. But that's always only part of the story. Here's the rest.

We came home from Rochester exhausted but bouncing off the walls with excitement about our new house. At last, I felt like I had something to be excited about. The past few months have been emotionally draining: Greg has been gone more often than he's been here, there's a huge For Sale sign in the front yard of the house I thought I would be living in for the next twenty years, and every time I went to visit New York it was cold and gray and depressing. Greg had taken to calling the drive from Rochester to Pittsburgh the "trail of tears," because I would cry the whole way home after every visit.

Finally, a ray of sunshine was breaking through the dark clouds of the last few months. Our home had sold in five hours. We'd found a home we loved in Rochester and had a contract on it. I had visited a Christian homeschooling program while I'd been there and loved it, too.

Then, the bottom dropped out from under my feet last week, and I found myself in a freefall of fear.

On Monday night, my realtor called and told me the buyers of our home here in Pittsburgh had backed out of their contract. We were back at square one, it seemed.

As I was listening to her on the other line and trying to process what this all meant for us, I heard a sound from downstairs that terrified me. It wasn't an intruder. It wasn't the cry of an injured child. It was far worse, my friends. It was vomit.

Yep. Boys 1, 2, and 3 dropped like flies to a horrendous case of the stomach flu over the course of the next 24 hours. Greg was scheduled to be gone from Sunday afternoon through Friday night, and so busy with traveling and meetings that he could barely text, let alone help me figure out how to handle the house situation.

Given my history, I anticipated feeling despair. Sadly, that's often my knee-jerk reaction to adversity. But this time, it was different.

What I want to to tell you is that instead, filled with the Holy Spirit and spiritual maturity, I simply rested in God's unfathomable peace and knew He would take care of everything in His way, in His timing.

The truth was, I found myself gripped with fear. I was so afraid of all that this might mean for our family. Would we have to put the house back on the market? Would we have to lower the price? Would we need to cancel the contract on our new home and continue this exhausting life with Daddy in one city and the rest of us in another, indefinitely? My stomach churned, and sleep was elusive.

So God reminded me of Joshua.

Stay tuned for Part 2 of the story :-).

And the House We Chose Was...

House #2!!!!!


We are so excited, and can't wait to strip some wallpaper and swim in our pool! Stay tuned in the months to come for some before and after pictures!

House #3: Familiar on the Outside, Different on the Inside

So the first day that I went out with my realtor was sort of a bomb. I didn't see anything that I liked, and I felt badly because she was so sure that I was going to like several of them. Greg had to keep reminding me that we weren't going to buy a house that we hated because I didn't want to hurt my  realtor's feelings :-).

She was awesome, though, and completely undeterred. No worries, she announced firmly when she dropped me back off at the hotel at the end of our day. We WILL find something that you LOVE, I know it.

The next morning we went straight to this house, and it was the first one that I actually liked. On the outside, it is very similar to the house we live in now: a cedar-sided, center hall colonial with big, spacious rooms. It was on a wooded lot and had an attached garage, and I immediately took a deep breath and thought to myself, This could be it!

I loved the living room - beautiful built-ins, a fireplace, and open to a sun-filled office that they added on a few years ago.

Here's another view of the office. It would make a perfect classroom - the only thing I wasn't thrilled about was that it was completely open to the other living spaces, which is not ideal. It's open to the living room on one side and the family room on the other, and our school room is often pretty messy. There are books and papers and markers and playdoh and glue sticks and clay all over the place - we're a busy bunch in there. I just am not sure that I want that mess so visible to my type-A eyes all throughout the day as I'm living in the rest of the home. Doors are a beautiful thing.

I loved the kitchen. The woman who lives there now went to cooking school, and you can tell. Top-of-the-line appliances, and just a very cozy space. I could really see myself cooking and baking in there while I watched the kids playing in the backyard through the big windows.

The family room. One word: UGH.

I felt like I had entered the local Moose Lodge. Horrid. 

The dining room. It had potential. It was crying out for some wallpaper removal and a fab chandelier, but I could work with it.

The master bedroom. 

Here's the sad news. This basement? It looks nice in the photos. I thought so too. The reality? Pretty bad, people. The ceilings were LOW. The carpet was DIRTY. And the worst news by far? It smelled like CAT PEE. If someone wanted to torture me, they could get any and all classified information out of me in five seconds flat if they tied me up in a room that smelled like cat pee. I HATE that smell, and it is impossible to get rid of. It's funny because I whispered to my realtor that I thought it smelled like a cat, and I think their realtor overheard me; when we went back with Greg later that day, there were about 400 scented candles burning in the basement. We almost passed out as we were assaulted with the competing smells of vanilla, fresh linen, apple cinnamon, and cat pee. Ummmm, nice try lady. 

I loved the back yard. It was small but idyllic. Smith kids would have a blast in this little corner of the world.

There you have it - House #3.

So which one did we choose?

Stay tuned to find out!