It wasn't quite what we had planned, but it was what we got.  I was going to celebrate another birthday - which the boys were more excited about than I.  Joseph was going to go to school, Dean to work, and the boys and I were going to have a normal school day until I left for my prayer group.  Dean and the boys had already taken me out for a celebratory dinner and had given me the first installment of my birthday gift.  Because we had already started celebrating, I wasn't going to fix a special meal, but I did know that Dean had bought ice cream to finish up whatever meal I fixed.  In other words, it was supposed to be a pretty ordinary day, but it wasn't to be so.

Instead I found myself cleaning a bathroom at 2:00 in the morning after Joseph had failed to direct the contents of his stomach in the right direction.  He was miserable, but waited patiently until I got him and the bathroom cleaned up and then got him settled on the couch with a little bit of ginger ale and a bucket.  The ginger ale was a bad idea, but he managed to aim just fine the rest of the night.  It was obvious he wasn't going to school, so that would change our schedule some, but on days like that, I just tell him he's a homeschool kid and give the boys a little lighter load.  Well he wasn't going to be a homeschool kid, but the boys did get a little lighter load.  That much was established before the sun came up... and then Dean woke up feeling under the weather.  Okay, we'll work with that and make sure that everyone washes their hands religiously.  At least I can leave and go get some milk, eggs and a few other items to tide us over until I can do a full-fledged grocery run.  At least I could pick up a brownie mix to go with that ice cream.

Thursday, dawned bright and beautiful and all looked to be a normal day until right after supper, when Joseph unloaded again - this time in a trash can and with pretty good aim.  Oops, another night on the couch with the bucket nearby.  What is it about 2:00?  In this house, it means time for bellies to begin aching and this time it was mine.  Since I couldn't sleep, I spent part of the time rearranging another schedule.  JJ obviously wasn't going to school which meant that I wouldn't be going to read for his class.  It also meant that I would have to rearrange my plans to go grocery shopping, but at least I would be able to work with Jeremy and Justin all day.  Wrong again.  About daylight Dean and I decided to try a new bonding experience and we regurgitated simultaneously - he into a trash can and I into the toilet.

And then the fun really began.  No, I take that back.  It was anything but fun and it really wasn't a time of deep connections.  After we had made all the necessary calls to work, school and doctor, we took turns groaning and sleeping.  Justin took over the kitchen and was very resourceful in planning and cooking three meals with limited ingredients for three boys.  Jeremy got tired of delivering ginger ale but he was glad to have extra time to read a new library book.  JJ was feeling better, but still didn't have an appetite for much other than ginger ale and was happy to lie around most of the day.

And the fun goes on, I still haven't cooked a complete meal for five, but I did roast a turkey so at least when the boys said they were hungry, they could carve off a slice of meat.  As we finish up our fourth housebound day, Dean and I still don't feel completely normal, but I'm hoping for better health in the morning.  Joseph has already decided that he's going to be sick tomorrow, but I think that's more a matter of principle and not ill health.  So far Jeremy and Justin have escaped the plague and I'm hopeful  and prayerful that they will be bypassed and we don't have to go into round 2.  I think we're all ready to get out of the house and see something a little different - Jeremy and Justin have even said that they want to go with me if I go grocery shopping.

I did feel good enough to snap this of JJ setting the table on Saturday.

Even though we didn't get what we would have wanted, there is much to be thankful for.  Jeremy and Justin were great help when I could barely find the energy to walk from one room to the next.  All three boys got along well while Dean and I were at our sickest.  Even though our kitchen stocks were low, Justin was able to be creative with what he found in the cupboards.  We had an entire weekend to recuperate before the school and work week begins.  Hopefully we've got it all out of our systems and we'll have smooth sailing for the rest of the year - at least until the next time when we don't get what we order.

When the boys turned 13, I told them that one of the privileges of being a teenager was that they got to do the laundry.  That didn't sound like a sweet deal to them, but since they had already been helping with the laundry, this was really just a step up in the process and they haven't complained too much.  They're not doing all the laundry, but both boys are taking two loads from start to finish each week.  The first load contained a blanket, a stuffed animal and a few assorted socks.  He was pleased with himself, but he had a few instructions on exactly what to wash in the second load.  

Yesterday, their hamper was overflowing and I decided to sort the clothes for them and let them take it from there.  The first two batches went fine, but when the first batch was removed from the dryer a red washcloth fell onto the pile of church clothes that was ready for the next load.  Guess what?  No one noticed that the red washcloth went into the washer with khaki pants until it was too late.  Now we have an almost-new pair of pants with pink splotches.  And what on-the-cusp-of-manhood boy wants to wear pants with pink splotches?  Not these two.  I think I've decided to leave the pants in their closet as a reminder to watch out for red washcloths.  It's likely that one of them will pull those pants out for church, so if you happen to see pink splotches, please don't say anything to them about sorting laundry.  I think just wearing the pants will be enough of a reminder.

This was the birthday that the boys have anticipated more than most, but when we got to the actual day, we were almost finished celebrating.  Jeremy and Justin had this feeling that turning thirteen would be somewhat of a magical moment in which they would suddenly be taller, wiser and more independent.  Just the sound of thirteen conjured up images of maturity in their minds.

We began celebrating early this year because we knew that most of my family would be together the Sunday before Christmas.  We stopped and picked up a cake before we got to mom's and she had the rest of the meal planned for the next day.

After dinner we took the boys to visit an old friend.  I told the boys that I've known Rose all my life.  Even though she wasn't feeling well, she was gracious and demonstrated Navajo rug weaving for us.

She used the little bit of English that she knows and I used the smattering of Navajo that I've remembered to communicate, and as we were leaving JJ said, "Quit talking in Spanish." Even though we had told him multiple times that we were visiting American Indians, he didn't realize that their language wasn't Spanish.  

Later that evening, we went out into the community to go Christmas caroling. Jeremy and Justin had gone caroling in the past but they didn't remember it and enjoyed the evening.  There's just something about standing under the big New Mexico sky looking at the stars, smelling cedar smoke and singing Christmas carols that makes a wonderful evening.

We continued celebrating 13 after we left New Mexico.  We had sushi in Missouri and Barbecue in Tennessee.  We were on the road as the year turned over from 2012 to 2013 and the official birthday arrived.  When we pulled into our drive in the early morning none of us really felt like having a party even though we were very glad to be home.  Since three of the five of us had been awake most or all of the night, the atmosphere was pretty subdued.  We've learned over the years, that it's not as important to celebrate the day as it is to celebrate the person.  Even though we didn't spend much time celebrating on the actual 13th birthday, we stretched their celebration out over two weeks and celebrated the boys.

As far back as I can remember, a recliner sat in the corner of our living room.  I loved that recliner and sat in it every chance I got, but it wasn't my chair.  If I was sitting in the chair and Dad walked in, I knew that I needed to hop up right away because that was his chair and he wanted it empty when he was ready to sit down.  He would sit in that chair on a long winter evening while Mom sat in an overstuffed chair with her feet on a footstool and listen as Mom would read chapter after chapter of a missionary story.   I wasn't real old when I realized that Dad would head for that chair after lunch every day.  He would't be there long, but he would power nap before heading out to visit someone in the community or to minister to someone who had dropped in. 

First one and then another recliner moved into that spot as they aged and no longer provided a comfortable resting place.  After Dad and Mom retired the recliner found a new corner in their new home.  It was soon replaced by a recliner with a lift making it even more fun for the small children, but it was still Dad's chair and the children would vacate it when Grandpa needed his chair.  As Dad weakened, he spent more and more time in the recliner and he faced less competition for the chair.  He often rested in it and would leave his bed in the middle of the night to seek relief in his recliner.

A little more than a year ago, Dad moved to his chair and spent his final days there.  He was reclining when we arrived to say our last good-byes and it was from that chair that he spoke to me for the last time.  He was in that chair as my sister and I sat with him through the night and he was in that chair the last time I told him I loved him.  

He no longer needs that chair as a place of relaxation since he's entered his eternal rest, but that chair still sits in its corner of the living room.  As we spent Christmas week in New Mexico, I found myself avoiding Dad's empty chair.  I knew that he wasn't going to walk in wanting his chair, but I still made sure that it stayed empty.  Perhaps its emptiness was just a picture of the void we were feeling.  Even though we rejoice that Dad didn't have to suffer long and we have the hope of the resurrection, his empty chair still brings a tear as we remember the man who filled it.

In the past six months, the face of our family has been changing.  During the middle of the summer, we filed for custody of JJ and in October we were given full legal custody.  Even though he had been living with us full time since the end of June and nothing changed in his day to day life, it did mean things had changed and the first thing I did was schedule a trip to the doctor.  He wasn't real happy with the trip, but recovered quickly.  Of course what he doesn't know is that trips to the dentist, an ENT and an eye doctor are on the horizon.

The week before Thanksgiving, we were joined by two girls - one 17 and the other 3.  Even though they were with us for just a week, we did enjoy having girls in our home for the first time.  Our hearts were heavy as we sat and prayed with "S" the night before she left and we couldn't see a great solution to a difficult situation.  All we could do was promise to pray for her and ask the Lord to work in her eternal interest.

When the girls left, we were back to our three boys until we borrowed one of the boys' friends Sunday afternoon.  They enjoyed the afternoon together and finished up their time together admiring the squirrel that Justin had caught.  He had great fun skinning, dressing, cooking and eating it saying that it tasted like chicken.  I think I'll stick with chicken.

Late Monday morning of Thanksgiving week, we got another call from DSS and after multiple phone calls, we were joined by two brothers, S1 and S2.  8-year-old S1 is very talkative, full of energy, intelligent and can be a real handful.  We really appreciate our friends who have already been praying for him.  5-year-old S2 is more mellow and more homesick and has a lovely smile, but as he gets to know us better, we're finding that he brings a different set of challenges with him.  There's nothing like walking into his bedroom and discovering puddles.  I earnestly hope that we've closed that chapter.

As we do our part in caring for the fatherless of our world, we are faced with many challenges, and we covet the prayers of those who also have a concern for the less fortunate of our society.  Each one comes with his/her own set of difficulties and each one as an image bearer needs to see the love of Christ in action. 

Last night I sat in two different rooms putting two sets of boys to bed and I pulled out a Bible story book to read.  Neither set wanted me to stop reading and are looking forward to another story time.  My prayer is that the Word of God will sink deeply into their hearts and we will one day rejoice around the throne with some of these children who are ours for a time.  Only then will we see how much the face of our family has really changed.

Fall is a favorite time of year in this household.  Since we can set our own school schedule, we usually schedule a fall break.  Jeremy and Justin have both told me that they would rather have a long fall break and go to school all summer long.  This year, our fall break wasn't scheduled in one long chunk, but we still managed to have quite a bit of time off during the time we had guests.

One afternoon we visited Government Island where the stone was quarried for the White House and the U. S. Capitol building.  Not only did we have a history lesson, we enjoyed the walk.  We spotted various wildlife and climbed through the gaps where slaves labored as they prepared stone for transport to D.C.

As a family who lives in the country and enjoys it, we occasionally have an experience that underscores the fact.  It has been years since Jeremy and Justin had been to an airport and when we went to pick Mom up in Baltimore, it was Joseph's first time.  The boys loved the moving sidewalks and escalators.  When I saw how much fun they were having I realized that we rarely see escalators.  It was cheap fun while we waited for Mom's delayed flight.

Jeremy and Justin took a day trip to Lancaster with Dean and came home with quills and ink.  They've discovered what scratchy pens and ink blots are.  I think they were hoping to produce beautiful documents that would go down in history but have discovered that they'll need more practice with those old-fashioned writing instruments.

Justin made it until the end of October before he was hit with the fishing bug again.  On the last day of Mom's visit, we picked Joseph up after school and drove to the lake.  Jeremy and Joseph decided it was much more fun to take a walk with grandma than fish, but all three agreed that even though it was late October, they wanted to play in the water.

JJ came home from school with a note saying that if they wanted to dress up, they could dress up as a story-book character.  Since he loves dogs, he decided that he wanted to be Clifford the Big Red Dog.  I did a little brainstorming and with Justin's good help, we took a pair of red pajamas, some poly-fill and iron on tape and came up with an outfit that was at least recognizable if not convincing.  He loves the tail and doesn't want me to remove it.

Almost every day, I am reminded that 13 is just around the corner.  Jeremy and Justin are at that stage where one day they surprise you with bursts of maturity and the next they baffle you with a round of boyishness.  As they anticipate the teen years, they're jamming a lot of fun into their last few weeks of twelve.  

Several weeks ago we left late on a Friday afternoon and began the long drive to Philadelphia.  It's really not that long of a drive up there, but a Friday night that included all the traffic of Washington, DC, Baltimore, MD, Wilmington, DE and Philadelphia, PA turned it into a long trip.  But we got there and had a great night's sleep before starting out early in the morning to visit the Franklin Institute.

JJ was sure that he recognized George Washington, so he started his day learning something new about American History.

Our primary objective though was the Dead Sea Scroll Exhibit.  We were in the first group of the day so the exhibit wasn't crowded and we were able to leisurely soak in the antiquities including this large vase dating from King David's time.

I especially liked the weights and measures set.  I guess you would just have to trust your local merchant's honesty. 

This incense altar was in the middle of a display of household gods, so it was most likely used in false worship.  

At this point, we were told that there could be no more photography, but that didn't stop us from spending as much time as we wanted to look at the fragments of scrolls that were the centerpiece of the exhibit.  What a privilege to see those scraps of papyrus and to realize that the Word of God will endure forever.  There was a small replica of the Western Wall including one actual stone where you could see the stone mason's marks, seeds from Masada and way more information than we could absorb.

Then our trip turned from History to Science and the boys had great fun trying their hands at various mechanical displays.  They worked with gears, shot off air-powered rockets and operated mechanical arms.  

This is the third time we've visited the Franklin Institute and the boys wanted to walk through the two-story heart again.  Jeremy and Justin worked on a health quiz while JJ crawled through plaque lined blood vessels and all three got to see a visual representation of how much blood their bodies contain.

We finished up our time by watching a movie about the building of the Trans-Canadian Railroad   The country is gorgeous, but I'm not sure that I ever want to ride some of those stretches of line. 

We packed a lot into the few hours that we were there and by the time we left, everyone was hungry so we went in search of lunch.

Over the past six weeks, we've made four quick trips to Pennsylvania and had guests in our home a little over half of that time. In the process we've made many memories and I haven't taken the time to write much.  On the first of our trips to Pennsylvania we joined many of Dean's extended family at his grandfather's for a family meal.  

The following Monday, we were joined by an old family friend for a few days.  Our families have known each other for years.  I took my first airplane flight with Carolyn when we flew from Nebraska to New Mexico following a church conference.  We had fun catching up and sharing memories.

Less than a week after she left, the boys and I drove to BWI to meet my mother who flew in to spend three weeks with us.  Even though she went right to work and kept the house running while I recovered from surgery on my hand, we still managed to squeeze fun activities in.  

She helped to keep the boys going in their school work by doing a lot of reading,

Joined us on a field trip to the Science Museum of Virginia in Richmond,

and went on several walks with the boys.

In the middle my mother's visit, we were joined by my Aunt Ruthanna from Indiana.  The weather was beautiful and we got to enjoy many beautiful fall leaves.  I got a tutorial from mom and Aunt Ruthanna on the different pieces of glass that I have in my china closet and I learned the history of several of the items.

We are so thankful for all the help she gave and for the memories we were able to make while she was here.  Our time together was good and the boys have already wondered if she'll begin to visit regularly.

It was nothing pretty, and I'm sure it didn't cost much when it was first purchased, but that old, brown, transistor radio was my first introduction to the world beyond Torreon.  How well I remember seeing Dad lying on the bed with it propped up on his chest while he listened to the news before going to bed.  Sometimes he would find the "Hour of Decision" and listen to Billy Graham preach and then he would tell us about going to hear Billy Graham preach in Modesto, California before he became the confidante of presidents and earned international fame.

That old, brown, transistor radio became a traveler during the summer of 1969 when we traveled to many churches where Dad preached and shared about his ministry to the Navajos.  It was in a basement in Pennsylvania on the evening of July 20, 1969 after Dad had preached at a nearby church.  He gathered his family around that old, brown, transistor radio and we listened to the first moon landing.  At the time it was boring, "Now they're opening the door.  Now they're pushing the door back.  Now the door is completely open,  Now Neil Armstrong is sticking one foot out the door.  Now he's putting his foot on the first rung of the ladder.  Now he's putting his other foot on the next rung of the ladder...."  It seemed that he would never get off that ladder and actually set foot on the moon, but we experienced a little slice of history thanks to the old, brown,transistor radio.

It became a part of every day.  Paul Harvey, the weather, J. Vernon McGee, the news, Tom Dunn, Back to the Bible, and some missionary who always introduced his "darling daughter Yvonne" all had voices thanks to that old, brown, transistor radio.  I can remember listening to a presidential nominating convention (sorry, I don't remember whether is was republican or democrat) and hearing a delegate introduce himself from the "great state of Texas" and then the rest had to add adjectives to their state as well.

I have no idea how many batteries that old, brown, transistor radio went through in its life, but there was always a spare set on hand.  Then there was the day when it started to die.  The voices weren't coming through as clearly as before, the batteries were corroding too quickly.  Dad took the back off that old, brown, transistor radio and I got to see its innards.  He pointed out the transistors and showed me how you could change the radio frequency by sliding a screwdriver across the coil.  We looked at the connections, but all the looking and pointing and sliding wouldn't bring that old, brown, transistor radio back to life.

That old, brown, transistor radio was replaced a series of radios and those radios by a succession of boom boxes, but none of them are connected to memories like that old, brown, transistor radio.

Last night after I was awakened in the night by a young child who was suffering from a cold, I sat in the darkness and thought about mothering children who aren't mine by birth or adoption.   

Even though the youngest child in our home right is now six, I've had less than a dozen full nights of sleep in the last two months.   There has to be a reason that I continue to drag through my days in a sleep deprived haze.

In the last four years we've had ten children in our home through the foster care system.  Some of them have joined our family for less than a week while others have been here for a month, or two, or five or even twenty-eight.  Each one has brought his own set of problems and challenges with him.

I would be lying if I said that it's been a bed of roses.  We've had a hole kicked in the wall and a broken sliding glass door.  We've had non-stop screaming for hours on end and tantrums that lasted more than an hour.  And I'm still baffled about where all the silverware went.  I think the toddlers slipped it through the holes in the trashcan lid.

We've spent countless hours on the road transporting these little guys to visitation with parents.  And I've had my ears full of cries while I held another small one who was behind on his immunizations.  We've visited multiple doctors and dentists in an attempt to address health issues.  I've held small ones as they woke up from anesthesia in tears and confusion.

As we've said good-bye to each one, we've had mixed emotions.  Sometimes there has been a sigh of relief but more often there are tears.  We've attempted to fold each one into our family and to give him a safe place to love and grow.  We've prayed with them and for them and as they've left, our prayer is that the Lord will be gracious to them and draw them to himself even if we don't learn about it until eternity.

These children are the fatherless and needy in today's society and we're instructed to care for them.  Foster care isn't for everyone, but it is something that the Lord has placed on our hearts.  If we can make an eternal difference in just one of their lives it will be worth all the sleepless nights and lost possessions.