copper and wool

It's a love story people! August 25th marks our 7th year of marriage. Seven whole whopping years. It doesn't seem like enough really. I feel like I've been with this man forever [but in a good way] :) I can still remember the very first day I saw his sweet face. We were at Liberty Bible Church...he came in late and sat right next to me during service. It was like magic was in the air. We might have even shared a Bible that day... [awwww]. I saw him later in the lobby, someone introduced him to a friend standing next to me. But no one ever introduced us. We just stole glances at one another thru the crowds of friends. That image of him standing against that wall in the Liberty lobby will forever be burned into my brain. I could have married him right then...{**swoon**}

Our paths crossed again later that day at a baseball game. We finally spoke. I remember how perfect the moment seemed. He was playing baseball...it was a gorgeous day...love was in the air...and then THUD. Derek had a head on collision with another guy on the field. It was NOT pretty...let me tell ya. And that pretty much sums up the story of our lives...lol. An amazing love story with a surprising THUD every now again...clearly sent by God to keep our heads out of the clouds.

From there it was lots of googaley eyes and smiling ear to ear...and driving around in his truck with me sitting in the middle of the benchseat...and talking on the phone for entire nights and then dragging ourselves to work without any sleep. Thank goodness we met and married within a year. Otherwise the people around us might have seriously died from our giddiness. No joke. We layed it on THICK :)

look at us lovebirds.
this was when he would get mad if i wasn't sitting next to him.
like i mean RIGHT next to him.

We went to one of our favorite places last night to celebrate this love story of ours...Heston's Bar and Grill in New Buffalo. We LOVE that place. It's simple and full of giant slabs of yummy meat. And they basically have no vegetables on the menu. It's our dream place :) 

We sat and munched on cheese and crackers and ate coconut shrimp and sent funny text messages to our very best friends on earth {Luke and Michelle}. I think the waitress was annoyed with us...who goes out to dinner and texts people? WE DO. Not normally though. On normal nights we don't touch our phones during dinner. But on a night when we celebrate our wedding, our life together...let it be known that WE TEXT THOSE TWO PEOPLE. I hope we do it for the rest of our lives...send them messages from wherever we are on our anniversary. They've been with us thru it all. From THUD number one to the latest and biggest of all THUDS...and everything in between. They're woven into this story of us.

I secretly snapped a picture of the old couple sitting near us at Heston's last night and sent it to them while we ate. Knowing one day it will be us. All four of us...old and silver haired with faces full of laugh lines that show we really lived this gift called life. I can just see us sitting there talking about our grandkids and our yards and about the good old days when we would can pickles and relish and jams on a whim while kids tore thru the house laughing and fighting. And the guys will be sitting there and smile those goofy grins at each other and will be totally drinking beers, both still probably packing heat and dreaming about old trucks.

see what I mean about beer and goofy grins and staring at each other???

We were married at their house, you know. In their YARD. It was one of the best days of my life. Perfect really. It rained hard that morning...but just hard enough to make the grass the most beautiful green color imaginable that afternoon. I remember everyone being worried around us...that RAIN. The chairs would be wet, it could be muddy; we hadn't really planned for a storm. It was an outside wedding and reception. But you know, ask anyone around us, we didn't care. We were ready to dance in the rain...make the most of whatever the day brought. And, oh did we dance. Like only the crazy Gora family can.

I thought a more lovie pic would be better here
than one of Bob doing his famous floor crawl :)

So here we are. We made it to another anniversary. We have SO MUCH to be thankful for. It's been quite a year, right? We're on the backside of another unplanned torrential downpour...one that wore heavy on our hearts but in the end has refined our very souls. That RAIN. It's hard to see thru but it really does make the ol' grass greener. I'm looking forward to what the future holds for the little family of ours...all the good [and hard] years ahead. To the dinners out at Heston's Bar with our bestest of friends...to all the mornings ahead sitting on our porch reading our Bibles and listening to the leaves rustle while the kids crawl all over us...and to the nights ahead where the only THUD we hear is Rigby falling out of bed [this totally just happened by the way!].

Happy anniversary to my camoflauge wearing, beer loving, THUD surviving dream of a husband.

Love you babe. xo.

It is well

I'm up to my ears this morning in house cleaning and interior projects...not to mention the fam, but I had to take a few minutes to blog otherwise it may NEVER happen. I'm trying to type as quiet as I can...in a few minutes the three people that are able to walk will be crowding me and asking me for things. :)

So where do I start? How about with the biggest and best happenings as of late.

NUMBER 1!
Derek is in the clear and released to work! Yep. We're back. It's August now, which means this is month of EIGHT of Derek being off work. [um, totally crazy, right?] So it is beyond awesome and a huge praise that he's been medically released to be a working man again. I can't believe we've even been able to make ends meet with no income to speak of for all this time. I know I repeat this ALOT. But my heart is overwhelmed really and it comes to mind often. It's been the amazing and giving people in our church, our family and dear friends, and those crazy ironworkers who have kept us afloat...and I'm sure the many who have even given to us without us even knowing. May God bless these people. Seriously. We have our home and food and new school backpacks because people gave to us from their very own pockets. Thank you all from the very deepest spot in my heart. Not having to worry about these things has really helped us to focus on what really matters in this life of ours...the people in it. That's been HUGE for us. It's been a long road and what you've all really given us is time to heal. And that my friends is priceless.

NUMBER 2!
Derek graduated and officially has his "book" and a degree! That means if he can find a job, he'll be able to make that full ironworkers wage. Whooo-hooo! Plus, he graduated ya'll. I'm so proud of him. He worked hard these passed 3 years going to class, doing homework [like every night...ew] and working full time to make this happen. He really is the King of Iron [a nickname from school he may never live down...ha].

being a goof...
waiting to make it official

sweet victory!

great job guys
all that hard work payed off!!

DEREK GORA
[aka...king of iron]

NUMBER 3!
We have a kindergarten-er...if that's even a word. Our little Rowan Mae is growing up. She had been saying for weeks that she did NOT want to go. But when the time came, she didn't even shed a tear [she left that for her Momma]. She is loving it too. The little homework papers, her new lunch box, recess with cousins, using pencils and erasing...the little sweet details that make this time so special for her. I pray blessings upon this child. That she will grow and live and give all of her heart to her God. That she will be a light in this world and in her classroom. Yes, I want her to learn and have dreams and be a genius, if she must. But more than all that, I want her to live each day fully to the One that makes all that possible. In the days before she started school I talked to her a lot about this God of ours. How He has a plan for her life. How he protects her and that she never needs to fear because her God is with her.

The night before she started school she asked me to read a story from her Bible. She chose "The Captain of the Storm" from Mark 4 and Matthew 8. And I love the way God works by the way. She chose the very bedtime story she needed to get her thru her own fear...that dreaded first day of school. It's the story of when Jesus falls asleep in the boat and that crazy storm comes...and his friends are scared sick because the waves are so high and crashing so hard that they are sure the boat is going to tip. Thru their eyes, it's chaos and fear. But they forgot that they're not alone in the boat. That big, huge FORCE that is God was there the whole time. He awakes and with a word..." 'Hush!'...the strangest thing happened. The wind and the waves recognized Jesus' voice"...and all the storm became still and quiet. This actually meant something to Rowan because one of her favorite songs to sing is It is Well by Kristene Dimarco. There's a part in the song that says "the waves and wind still know His name". This gave me the opportunity to explain the words she sings regularly. That even the wind and waves obey God...nothing can get in the way of the good plan He has for those that are His. Her eyes lit up to make the connection. A big truth, but simple enough to connect the dots. Gotta love that gospel.

We belted this song out on our drive to school Wednesday morning. Just me and my little fearful five year old. Praise God for a timely word and song.

So yes, my dear little one. Thru it ALL, keep your eyes on Him. Trust in Him, the waves and wind still know His name. Just like all those years ago on a boat carrying our Jesus and his friends. A good truth for us all. Five years old or over thirty five.

It is well friends. Jesus is in the boat with us.

mr. eames

Two of my very good friends sent me a surprise in the mail the other day. I got a strange email telling me to go to DO [my old office] to pick up a package. I should have known they'd do something crazy. These two girls...big hearted, mischevious and beloved friends...who I miss SO much. I spent hours a day [for years] next to these two creative minds...designing, dreaming, celebrating each other's successes, and even torturing ourselves over the projects we hated. We shared ideas and had crazy nights out dancing and acting like nuts. Instant friends and confidants from the moment we met...and that's hard to find in the competitive interior design world. We planned our weddings together. Did life together. And everything is different now. They both moved away, on to bigger dreams. And I left the design world for my dream...{thegoralife}...these 3 beautiful babies and my rock star husband :). I know we're all happy where we are. But I still miss those days. Such sweet memories. Such good friends. So I guess I shouldn't be so surprised by this unexpected and over the top delightful gift. 

They called it a "baby" gift. But I'm pretty sure it's more for ME than baby Rage...lol. Most people don't even know how amazing this gift is. I guess you sort of have to be into interior design or modern furniture and architecture to get it. And I'm POOR. Like dirt poor after Derek's dance with death. So fancy designer objects do not make their way into our house. So this really means a lot to this Momma. Thank you my lovelies. My jaw is still on the ground.

Hello Eames Elephant. I love you :)

even the box is amazing

Rowan and Rage testing out Mr. Eames
{so cute}

I love the look on little Rage's face...
he knows he's really something up there

and the big kids had some fun too...
bubble wrap anyone?

I told him to act like an elephant...hee hee

{precious elephant riding babe}

Rig is 4

Our Rigby turned 4 this year. How is that possible? It's been a year of transition for this little man. Not too long ago he was the baby around here, and now he's a big brother. And I'm not joking about the BIG part. This kid is about 60lbs and only four years old...and not fat or chunky at all. He's just solid. I always joke that his bones must be heavy...seriously...we can't figure it out. At the beginning of my pregnancy with Rage I had to quit picking up both kids because I had placenta previa. By the time the baby was born, I couldn't pick Rigby up even if I wanted to. We used to call him Biggy when he was a baby...a nickname he may never lose.

Besides the fact that he's huge size wise, this kid also has a HUGE heart. He is always willing to compromise with his sister, usually getting the short end of the deal. If he has a handful of candy, he'll even give you the last couple. He's just that kind of guy. He tells his friends he loves them and always asks for an extra hug at night when I tuck him in. My guess is that he gets this from his Daddy...that guy is ALL heart too.

Rigby also says the most hilarious things. I love to hear him tell stories. No one can say it quite like Rig. He has the sweetest giggle and loves to be tickled and wrestle. He also acts like a weirdo whenever people come over or he meets someone new...like he'll hide behind a door and make animal sounds and throw things into the room where we are. ? I'm told Derek used to do this when he was little too. Another thing we can blame on him :)

He also loves to NOT wear clothes. This is sort of our biggest issue with him. He prefers underwear. JUST underwear. He refuses to wear clothes with buttons...pants, shorts, even shirts. The kid will not wear jeans. If bottoms must be worn, you better believe the waistband will be stretchy. It's like he wears old man clothes. I can't tell you how many times Derek has come home and said, "I want him wearing clothes." It's a daily battle. We...may...never...win.

He loves all things Ninja Turtle and camouflage. Dinosaurs are also on the top of his list...as you can see by the shirt he insisted wearing for his birthday party. It was HIS birthday, I couldn't force the kid to wear the preppy shirt Momma had picked out :)

Look at those brown eyes...dreamy and sweet

Opening his presents!

Cake, need I say more?

his very own ride

Daddy giving him some helpful advice...
holding the pedal down was a challenge for some reason!

kawabunga dude

I thought these were so cute!

We even made our very own ninja turtle lanterns.
Thank you pinterest!

we love rage

After baby Rage was born, I came home to a very cute and peculiar sign. It was hung on the wall above our television. 

It read..."we love rage". 

rage's room -- still under construction...
we've hung the sign in the window for now.

A few words we never thought we'd put together. But as the sign reads, we do LOVE Rage. He's the sweetest little man and ironically dons the name that the dictionary describes as intense anger. I always smirk a little inside when someone asks me his name... because I know in a few seconds that person will inevitably crinkle their forehead and ask me to tell them again. They obviously couldn't have heard me right...[ha]. 

My baby is growing fast, a little too fast for this momma. I haven't been keeping up posting his stats very well... so this post will be all encompassing :) 

ONE WEEK OLD

height: 21" 56%ile | weight: 7lbs 14oz 56%ile

ONE MONTH OLD

height: 22"  | weight: 8lbs 15oz 

enjoying his stay at the Hyatt
while Daddy is under the knife

hmmmm...I wonder if anyone's noticed
how dashing I am in this tie?

i've got my eye on you...

2 MONTHS OLD 

height: 22.5" 26%ile | weight: 13lbs 67%ile

chunky monkey

white sox man

3 MONTHS OLD

I'm not sad...I promise.
I'm just well fed and oober relaxed.

being stylish in clothes from auntie jenny

And here's some brotherly love...can you say melt my heart? 
And please don't mind the piles of laundry in the background...this is REAL life baby :)

practicing his kickboxing

brother love 
♥

with all our might

We've really been enjoying our new house. And by "new", I mean new to US. According to the deed, it was built in 1889. That was a loooong time ago. It's obviously been renovated a time or two, not a whole lot of the original character remains. But that's ok with us. We have a vision for this place. It's going to be a slow "go" getting there, but we have nothing but time, right?

I was thinking about that yesterday as I was painting the baby's room. Yes, Rage's room is still not done...[sigh]. I was thinking about years past, about the other families and little people that called this old farmhouse home. How many times have these walls been made fresh with new paint? Did the mom have to keep stopping to hold a baby or help find a wooden train piece or yell at the top of her lungs for her kids to quit fighting...all the while standing on a toddler play chair to reach the high spots? Oh, if these walls could talk, right? Maybe this Momma would learn a thing or two from the stories that once lived here.

all 3 babes...playing in the crib
as momma paints chevrons galore

I don't know if it was the praise music that got my heart deep thinking or maybe I was high on fumes, but I was really having a moment up there in that room. Until that point I had been feeling the weight [like i always do in some way] of getting things done. Needing to get that room painted so I could move on to my next slew of projects. You know, like painting the kitchen, updating some lamps, making a few beaded chandeliers for friends...[and the list goes on]. Not to mention just the normal chaos of dishes and laundry and starving kids and the never ending trickle of toys that make their way down the stairs. There are just so many things to get done and keep up with around here. Sometimes I get lost in the getting it done...or the desire to have it all picture perfect and put away.

As my brush stroked those walls, the words etched on my rubber bracelet echoed in my mind, the one our Pastor gave me while my husband was on life support... 

"Resolved, to live with all my might, while I do live."  Jonathon Edwards 1722 

to live with all my might... What does that really mean for me, for my life HERE in this house full of messes. Does it mean working away the moments so the picture perfect painting of our life, our home, is complete...and to what end? I don't think I want to spend all of my might on meaningless tasks for nothing more than appearances. Not that taking care of my home and my life doesn't need to be done [don't worry babe, I'm not giving up on house cleaning]. And at that...done to the glory of God. It DOES...there's no question about that. I'm thinking more about my heart and mind and my motives as I do these things. Like what really matters here...and why do I feel the need to get it all done. If I scream and yell and am irritated to the core as I rush to paint this life of mine...that is not to the glory of God. And it's not getting it done, not really, not at all. 

while I do live... One thing that occurred to me yesterday as I slung the paint on the walls is that these colors, really only last for a time. A very short time. Literally and figuratively. Someone else will live in this house one day. Someone else will repaint these walls for their child or play room or some grand design endeavor of their own. These chevrons that I'm tirelessly painting and perfecting...they'll be painted over. Hmmm. This is just a house. These are just walls. Perspective. 

"As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place is remembered no more." Psalm 103:15-16

And not to be morbid, but ME and mine...we will be long gone at some point. And everyone we know will pass too, eventually. New people will take our spots...new lives will be having their time in this world...living those days ordained...times written and seen before they came to be. It's like my mind zoomed out for a few minutes to His vantage point and looked at the shortness of our time. I've read that we see things linear...on a timeline of minutes and days and years. But God sees the whole picture, our beginning, our end...all beginnings and all ends. What a perspective that is. To see life as He does. To keep my eyes on Him as I live this day. For those few minutes, I wasn't drowning in my tasks...but finding contentment in the time I've been given to paint these walls...this canvas of my life. 

I think when I see life thru the world's view, I grasp for time, for things, for a perfect picture, and I hold them so close. I cling tight and I drown in them. But when I step back and remember that we are grass...I am grass...made of dust...made with a purpose...my heart shifts. Let's go. And I don't have to get it all done. I never will. There will always be more dishes to do, more projects to get done. But this one single day...with all it's tasks...I can live fully, with all my might. 

So for a few days, until I get lost in the mess again, I walk at a different pace, with a full heart...and I paint.

a photo from earlier this year...after Derek got out of the hospital the first time
living the simple. driving dad's truck thru our woods. 

tire swings.
a MUST do today.

To live fully. With all our might. Great idea, Jonathon Edwards.  

transfer

I was reading this morning and came across Psalm 143:8 -- "Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul."

I was thinking how I want this verse to mean as much to me NOW as it did four months ago. I still want us to depend on Him and seek His direction each and every day. I don't want to just wake up and throw on my shoes and go at this day like it's mine alone. I want to start it with Him in mind, seeing what He has in store. After all, God's not just walking beside us when life is tough. He's always there...[that's what I've learned]...orchestrating the day for our good and with real purpose. So that's my prayer for my family... that our eyes and our hearts and our plans would be open to what God has for us. He has purpose for us in each day... [even this one].

Over the last week or so my heart has been reliving those days before Derek's hospital transfer. A few posts ago [all things good] I mentioned a little bit about the weight of it all ... and ever since I can't seem to shake it.

Back in January I was faced with one of the biggest decisions I would ever have to make in this life. It sounds sort of over the top to use those words... but after sitting here and thinking about all this... that's actually a true statement. I've never had to make a decision that could ultimately lead to someone I love living or dying. But there I was, making decisions and having conversations on behalf of my husband who could no longer speak or act on his own... How do you transfer a man to a whole other hospital and team when he's basically dying right in front of you? There were so many doctors working to keep him alive at that point...running tests, asking questions, maintaining the machines that were sustaining him. It was like every second counted. How could I risk packing him up and sending him off? That felt like starting over. The thought of transferring him seemed too big, too dangerous and wasn't something I thought necessary. He seemed "safe" where he was. I needed safe.

I think when I was there in that moment, trying to walk thru those minutes, all I could do was process what was right in front of me. Doctors...nurses...all of the tubes and machines...watching his body struggle and the numbers go up and down. The first few times people mentioned transferring Derek, I just wasn't ready to hear it. It was like there was a road block in my mind and I just could not go there. What was going on right before my eyes was hard enough to digest on it's own. And I trusted our doctors. I had heard from quite a few people how great one of his doctors was...and they were all so forthcoming and available to us. I never once questioned whether he was in good hands. I knew he was. I decided however, that no matter what I thought was best, I would give it some serious prayer and consideration...and start asking some hard questions. I knew that I was responsible for Derek, and I didn't want fear or anything else to stand in the way of what was best for him.

So I asked those questions. You know, the hard ones. I started cornering the doctors and asking about things that most people probably don't want to hear about. Like was Derek going to die in a few days or weeks if things kept progressing as they were. It was obvious he was on a downward slope at that point, and I needed real answers. I had to be prepared...I was pregnant...there were two little ones that needed me to keep it together. I couldn't have the rug pulled out from underneath me in a day or two if he did die. I had to know what the possibilities were, whether good or bad. 

The answers I was getting from the doctors were also not positive by any means. I kept hearing doctor upon doctor use the words "very very very sick"...and I'm not exaggerating. I heard it multiple times a day from different doctors...[very very very]. I think they were trying to prepare me for the worst. I feel like doctors typically are trying to keep people from overreacting; like they want to reassure you everything is going to be fine...not to worry...they've got it all under control. That's at least what I expected to hear.  But no one was uttering those words. I was starting to see the writing on the wall and it just wasn't looking good. 

***

So I prayed. That very night I sat in the waiting room and asked Derek's parents and his sister to pray with me. We sat in a circle, held hands, and prayed to the Creator of the world. Pouring our hearts out to Him...together, unrehearsed, and raw. We had never done that before. [not like that]. We specifically asked for God's leading and working if Derek should be transferred. I needed to see His hand in it if I was going to take that step. I left that night confident we were staying put. No transfer.

And there it was the next morning...God's fingerprints...literally all over everything. One of Derek's doctors approached me first thing and before I knew it, we were discussing transferring him. It was like God used that doctor to get me moving; he told me exactly what I needed to hear...in just the right way AND wrapped it in faith...letting me know he was praying for Derek. There are too many details to share, really. Let's just say I had doctors and friends and pastors, all showing up at just the right time to walk me step by step thru the impossible. And as the doctor went to make a few phone calls to see if any beds were even available in Chicago to transfer him to, I had a group of people praying in the waiting room. I still wasn't sure how to flip the switch and say yes...I didn't want to make a wrong decision. I was so afraid I would choose the wrong one and he would die.

So I went to Derek's side and played the song that was on repeat in my heart...the one my heart broke to every morning in the shower...that I would pray and sing and bawl my eyes out to. "Whom Shall I Fear...(God of angel armies)" by Chris Tomlin. I probably sang that song to Derek a hundred times without him even knowing it. It gave me hope and strength. 

[see lyrics below...they still give me chills]. 

You hear me when I call

You are my morning song

Though darkness fills the night

It cannot hide the light

Whom shall I fear???

You crush the enemy
Underneath my feet
You are my sword and shield
Though troubles linger still

Whom shall I fear???

I know who goes before me

I know who stands behind

The God of angel armies

Is always by my side

The one who reigns forever

He is a friend of mine

The God of angel armies

Is always by my side 

And nothing formed against me shall stand

You hold the whole world in Your hands

I'm holding on to Your promises

You are faithful...You are faithful

I would whisper in Derek's ear while he was unconscious that the God of angel armies was there in that room with us...that the room was crowded with angels ready to go to war on his behalf. We had NOTHING to fear. We stood shoulder to shoulder with an invisible army and God himself. 

It was actually this song that gave me the answer I needed at that moment too. As I read those lyrics to Derek, I realized that this God who goes before me...who stands behind...He would be with us wherever we went. If we stayed. If we went. HE goes before, HE stands behind, and HE would be right there by our side. I couldn't make a decision that would not involve Him sustaining and seeing Derek thru. And there it was... my answer.  I could do this because God... the one who reigns forever... would go with us or stay with us. I couldn't send him anywhere his God would not be. ! Right then I prayed... so thankful for the certainty... and broken and humbled that I never saw this before.

And as soon as I lifted my head from praying... literally within a minute... the phone rang at the nurses station and the nurse said I had a phone call. It was the doctor calling to tell me there was a room available at Northwestern for Derek... He wanted to know if I wanted it. I could finally say YES.

***

One of the craziest parts of this story is that I wasn't asked to transfer Derek until I had the answer. I wasn't offered a bed five minutes before or two days before...I wasn't offered until the indecision and the fear was gone. Until God showed me that He was in every bit of it. I'm still amazed how that day played out. And I'm so thankful that God spared me the weight of that decision before I was ready. Talk about going before... :)

I've decided to share a few photos of the big event. Mainly because this moment for us was mind blowing... life changing... and believe it or not, God even threw in a dream come true. Derek always wanted to fly in a helicopter. I guess he got his wish [although unconscious... lol]. 

I made sure someone got some pics so we could prove it to him.

his fabulous flight crew 
packing him up like a giant burrito

almost ready to go...
just him and a room full of angels :)

his dad on the left...making sure his boy is ok

and there it is...PROOF
you're actually on that babe!

care bear stare

I love this picture... it perfectly captures Easter for us this year. 

It was an absolutely beautiful day, full of everything we needed it to be. First and foremost, we celebrated Jesus -- and to be honest -- I could totally stop there. That alone is enough to make it a perfect day. I woke up this morning singing "Give me Jesus" (by Jeremy Camp)... it's still ringing in my ears actually. Sort of fitting I guess now that I'm blogging about Easter. I love this song though. Because really...

"GIVE ME JESUS. You can have, ALL this world. Just give me Jesus." 

But as always, our God gives us more than we need or deserve. He gives us MORE. Because I guess he could have just stopped at Jesus too, right? But that's not his style. Above and beyond...HE sort of owns that phrase. Just like it says in Romans 8:32 "He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?" God is so good to us. It makes my heart scream sometimes. Like a care bear stare... remember those? My heart throwing all it has back to God. Screaming joy and praise and thanks that we get all THIS.

This day of amazing fellowship and food [as always at Janel's]...an easter egg hunt with lots of crazy kids...sunshine GALORE...some kite flying...mimosas [yummo]...and of course the big one -- the fact that we all made it there alive. Yep, totally a day full of everything we needed it to be. 

And THIS picture, oh another reason for my heart to scream. The sweetest little girl I know, plopped down on the ground, showing her Daddy how great she is at kite flying. 

Then of course, there's this little guy. He might not be very good at kite flying quite yet...but he has other important things to show his Daddy. Like the coolest hiding spots for eggs. Or Mr. Pirate Egg. All important things, right? :)

 

And baby Rage? He did what babies do best. Slept...like all day :)

We did manage to have a little excitement that day as well. Our besties stopped by in their hilarious ride just in time to save the day (farmer style, of course). See the pics below of the sad kite stuck in the tree and the obvious answer... There's seriously never a dull moment when you're a part of this clan :)

It feels good looking back at this day...and I give glory to God for every last bit of it. Not all days will be perfect. Today sure wasn't. I had an epic fail in a moment of frustration and snapped a little...or maybe a lot. But it's good to be able to look at the good and bad in light of each other. I feel like I need both to balance this life out and keep me looking up to Him. Some days it's all glory and honor screaming out of my heart...others it's a call for mercy and grace and maybe a request for a do-over or two.

So what is God teaching me today? I'm still putting the pieces together. But I think it has something to do with the song that I woke up singing.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wS4JQi4dgvg