Summertime Groundhog Day

"Daddy's home! Daddy's home! DAAA-DAAAAYYYY's HOOOOOOOMMMMME!!!!" 

12 feet fun down the hardwood foyer to the front door sounding more like 100. Children knocking into one another as 4 of the 6 little bodies don't possess adequate balance to run with the stampede. But joy reigns as everyone struggles to hug the 2 legs walking in the front door. Little ones swept up by Daddy first and the taller ones wrap around his waist. The 2 oldest girls immediately launch (practically mid-story) into telling of their day, totally unaware that he can't hear over the other one talking, not to mention the squealing little ones.

For 90 seconds, all the world is right... because Daddy's home.

And after the masses clear, I get my weary hug and "how was your day?" The exhaustion is brought by both parties. He from his day at work. Mine from my work at home. 

~~~

This scenerio happens almost every day. Except that after this scene closes, the next several until bedtime are not quite so beautiful. Mostly because of me...

Evenings are hard. They always are. Dads are tired from work and just want to relax with their families. Moms are tired and anxious for the dads to be home, to have some relief-- I mean balance-- of parenting. Kids are... well at my house this is the most crazy time of day. Post nap time they're either fresh and wound up or cranky because they didn't nap well. There tends to be no in-between. 

And right now it's the end of July. We've had 8 weeks of summer, 2 of those with daddy out of town, and all my daily schedules (or scheduling attempts) have just plain gotten old. Every last thing grates on my nerves.

"She said I'm gross!!" "Well she said I'm mean!!" They're both right.

"Abby just hit Micah!!" What's new.

I cleaned poop out of the carpet and realized I could probably publish a highly successful YouTube video on how to get poop out of carpet.

Micah dumped an entire waistbasket in the toilet and flushed... flooding our bathroom 10 minutes before our home-group started.

I swept the kitchen and seriously contemplated if one of the children is carrying around a bag of sand that don't know about.

Only 2 of the 6 ate their lunch that I spent 20 minutes preparing.

I tried to order backpacks for the fall and the ones I wanted are gone.

The school supply lists were not posted exactly when I wanted (and thought I needed) them posted.

The kids get into some food in the pantry for the bzillionth time.

Abby finds a pen. AGAIN.

My kids have an unnatural amount of energy.

After a while it all becomes a way bigger deal than it should be. Its painful almost. Mommy is tired and needs a break. Except when this Mommy gets tired she gets irritable. And ugly. And holds unreasonable expectations. So I snap at my poor husband and I snap at my poor kids. But being tired is no excuse. And I know it.

I also know where my help comes from. 

I lift my eyes to the mountains-- where does my help come from? Psalm 121:1

But my restoration doesn't start with first day of school pictures, it doesn't require a babysitter, and it doesn't come after our 90 seconds of glory when Daddy comes home.

My help comes from The Lord, the maker of heaven and earth. Psalm 121:2

Being a mom can be such a tough battle ground. But it feels like it shouldn't be. Like on the outside we have this beautiful, sweet task of being good little mothers and by staying at home with our babies and raising them to love Jesus by wearing aprons and heals and singing hymns while we wash dishes. 

Meanwhile back in real life, our toddlers are throwing tantrums, our big kids are talking back, we're lucky if we can change out of sweatpants much less put makeup on, and we're pulling out our hair because we've gone "screen free", "gluten free", "dairy free" and any other free you can think of. And I'm only kind of kidding.

In all seriousness, my home is a mission field. There are small people walking around my house every day that NEED Jesus, and 2 new believers that need to be discipled. My home needs to be fortified with prayer as much as it needs to be mopped. Now is not the time to get dementia from summertime "Groundhog Day" (the movie, not the holiday). Now is the time to open my eyes to the spiritual needs of my family and not just the physical. 

Not that I can just let the laundry go for 3 weeks and pray instead. My husband needs clean underwear too. But what have I done to BE a helpmate to him this week? 

*sigh*

So as summer rolls to a close, I see that busy days lay ahead of homework and packed lunches and ballet practices and carpool and actually- potty training my 2 year old- And I know that I can't grow weary. I can't throw my hands up. The days are going fast and my family needs me to set an example of joy no matter what. They need me to be a strong woman of God who serves with love and with patience. 

... For the joy of The Lord is your strength. Nehemiah 8:10

And when Daddy comes home he'll be greeted by 6 wild kids and a wife who is strong and cheerful, with a joy that comes from The Lord alone.

Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. Proverbs 31:30

Lord be my joy and my strength. Remind me hourly to stop and refocus on You. And may my family have all that they need physically and spiritually because of the work of my hands and my heart. In the name of Jesus. Amen.

My life as a youth pastors wife

It's a...  hmm what's the word... unique thing to be the wife of a youth pastor. With children. Several. Children. I recently read a hilarious post--which I thoroughly enjoyed and felt I could have written--from another youth pastors wife concerning this matter, appropriately titled, "And no one died."(check it out here: http://www.thehandmadehome.net/2013/06/and-no-one-died/)

Jake is gone right now, in the Dominican Republic. Leading around 30 students with about a dozen leaders.

This trip, as most do, will surely leave a lasting footprint. Impoverished communities will be fed, physically and spiritually. Needs met. Lives changed. 

Students will be impacted. They will find that as they serve, they are the ones who leave blessed. And the better for it. Gods Word reaching the corners of the earth by faithful followers of Jesus. 

As I type this, my amazing husband is preaching in a small village while his message about fathering is translated into Spanish by our buddy Brian.

But meanwhile back at camp Spencer...

I'm feeding children, I'm serving, and I'm working. I'm ministering and I'm changing lives. ;) I wish I could say that this is deeply satisfying work. But I'm just being a mom. Trying to survive a week without Daddy. Oh I know that I'm serving the Father by doing what he's called me to do. And ultimately I really know and believe that I'm a part of the work in the Dominican right now by holding down the fort for Jake. But it's hard to keep perspective after several days in row of refereeing tween girl drama, scrubbing poop out of the carpet, cleaning up after unnamed children who snuck downstairs and found cake in the pantry at 5am, and finding myself singing the theme song to Bubble Guppies at 11:30pm when I finally have time to shower. 

Not only am I in survival mode with the kids, I'm missing my better half... his conversation after bedtime. His kiss before he leaves in the morning. His texts saying he just left work. I miss ESPN being on in the living room just because it means... he's home.

But this isn't our first rodeo. He and I took the youth group to summer camp 3 weeks after we got married in 2002. And he (or we eeeevery once in a while) has been doing it every summer since. The last several years its summer camp, missions trip, and winter retreat.

And every year, every trip, I pray for my husband. And prepare my heart for several things:

~When a man does mighty things for the Kingdom, the enemy doesn't like it. So he makes an attempt to hit him from behind, by attacking his family at home. Happens every time in some way or another. So get over yourself Satan, we know your ways and we trust in the Name of The Lord our God.

~There is always a solid chance that my husband, being the sold out, Bible preaching, Jesus follower that he is, could come back and say, "Pack your bags, we're selling everything and moving to fill in the blank." In fact, I half expect it to happen one of these times. We've always agreed in our marriage that we go where God tells us to go, when He says go. Period.

~Lastly, this might sound a little extreme, but I prepare my heart that anything could happen to my husband while he's boldly sharing the gospel. This isn't being fearful, that's not what I'm saying. I'm talking about having wisdom and knowing these are the last days. Now, where our youth group goes now is generally a hugely safe trip. They wouldn't be taking dozens of students down if it weren't. But nevertheless. I pray. Fervently.

So as I clean sticky little fingers, and change diapers, and get everyone dressed for church and loaded into the car so I can pretend to be normal.... I pray. Safety for us. Safety for him. Furthering of the Gospel. Lives changed. And a little dose of sanity in our house until Daddy gets home. ;)

You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You. Isaiah 26:3

If you would like to check out more pics from this years trip to Josiah's House in the Dominican Republic, click on the Josiah's House tab at the top of my blog and follow the link to their Facebook page. And "like" their page while you're there. :)

Spencer Birthday Fun Facts

In light of the big birthday season for our family, I bring you, "Spencer Birthday Fun Facts"!

Of my little half-dozen, 3 of them have June birthdays. Micah, Kate and Emily.

My late summer/ fall babies are Ashley: August, Mabry: October, and Abby: November.

Micah and Emily are my very closest in age- they were both born in June 2005. And though we usually list Emily 2nd in the Spencer kid line-up, Micah is actually 3 weeks older.

Oleg (my baby boy in Ukraine who didn't come home to us) is four months older than Micah, so he would have made Micah #3 and Emily #4. (If you don't know Oleg's story, you can find it on my adoption blog.)

Also, Ukraine does this weird thing were they give adopted children new birth certificates listing the adoptive parents. So on paper: I gave birth to Micah, in Ukraine, on June 4, 2005. And 3 weeks later, I had Emily, in Tennessee. I know y'all know I've got some mad child birthing skills, but you didn't know I was that good, did ya? ;)

Little Miss Kate's birthday fell 2 days before Emily's birthday. Which means in 2011, Kate came home from the hospital on Emily's birthday. Most girls 6 year old girls can only pray for a real baby doll on their birthday. Emily actually got one that year. :)

Though she was my third baby, I was only 23 when I had Abby Grace. My "odds" for having a baby with Down Syndrome at that age were 1:1400. But we know that God had a plan for her and she is fearfully and wonderfully made!

My birthday is in November too. My mom was 2 weeks past her due date, October 31st. It really would have stunk having a birthday on Halloween. So thanks Mom, for working that out for me.

Jake was born on the 4th of July. So feel free to call him the Yankee Doodle Boy --or better yet, just sing him the song-- on his birthday. ;)

And for my last fun fact: there is a small stretch of time each year where my kids ages align and I have a child of almost every age, spanning 8 years. Yesterday and today only, their ages fall at 

2, 3, 6, 7, 8, 9.

Happy 8th birthday to my strong little man...

Happy 2nd birthday to my baby...

Happy 8th birthday to my peanut girl...

I love each of you so much and pray for The Lord to pour out many blessings to each of you this year!!

VBS: Micah and Abby style

I mentioned before that Micah and Abby got to be a part of our church VBS this year, for the first time. Each with a "buddy". Micah's buddy got this video for me of the kids during worship. I wasn't able to see any of this in person that week because my crew was in the back and there were over 400 kids and leaders in the gym. But this is so Micah and Abby. Fully embracing the music. 

And once again these two teach me life lessons. I wish I could enjoy each moment like this. Carefree, enjoying life for what it is. Dancing with abandon and no concern for what others think but occasionally turning to show others what they've learned... to show them the way. Loving one another, dancing together playfully.

Being a crew leader I can tell you that some of the kids in my group were hesitant to do the hand motions. Worried if the other kids were going to do it too or not. But not Micah and Abby. There is zero concern here for the hundreds (literally) of people behind them.

Oh that we would enjoy life this way...

Clip 1:

http://youtu.be/_K0OwLjQdVo

Clip 2:

http://youtu.be/KQjWHRD7Ods

Motherhood for dummies

I've got nearly 10 years of parenting under my belt. 6 children: 5 separate deliveries and a 4 year old brought home from another country. 2 of my children require constant care because they have special needs.

So you'd think I'd have some basic, logistical parenting skills down by now.

Like: Don't forget to check a room for markers before you lay a 23 month old down for a nap.

And the ironic part is, I've made this mistake before. With Abby. I've got sharpie stains on my sheets to prove it. You can see those pictures here.

But how do you punish a face like this?

Good thing that this time it was a washable Crayola.

Standing Strong

In efforts to catch up my blog so that our family memories are {sort of} in one place, I'm going to recap some of 2013. But I'm afraid the first post is one of the most painful to write.

January and February are sort of a blur. Christmas and New Years were fun and crazy and everything that Christmas and New Years should be. Friends, family, sweet memories and traditions. But on January 2nd... 

I had no big plans for the day but I got up early and jumped in the shower. Hadn't even had coffee yet, I was trying to hurry before the kids woke up. When I got out I realized I'd missed 2 calls. One from my mom, one from my Grannie. My heart beat sped up what felt like 100% because... well I knew what I thought it meant. And I don't even remember what phone calls took place after that. I only remember that my fears were confirmed. I found myself in my suburban too upset to cry, racing down the street and tearing into my grandparents neighborhood. Ambulances and emergency vehicles crowded the tiny subdivision street. I jumped out without even turning off the car and ran towards the house. Though I could barely see where I was going, the panic was so intense.

What happened after that- what I saw, the emotions and exchanges shared by my grandmother, my mother and myself- is all too sacred to be shared here. So I'll suffice to say,  Papaw went to be with Jesus that January morning. On the birthday of the wife he'd left behind. His health had been going down for a while-- we knew it wouldn't be long. But it's still incredibly difficult not to have that one last goodbye.

Even now, 6 months later... it takes my breath away to think he's not walking on this earth any longer. 

Now. Let me say, I can rejoice because theres no doubt - he's alive. Actually, he's more alive than ever. He's free. He  is no longer in pain. And he doesn't wear oxygen tubes on his face. He's in the presence of his King and Savior whom he loves so much.

But for us...

In those days that followed came whirlwind of events. Decisions to made, family coming in town for the memorial service, flower arrangements pouring in from loved ones all around the country, choosing old photos for the slide show ...... explaining to my children that Papaw is with Jesus.... 

And tiny moments when I can't breathe because he's not texting me reminding me that it's supposed to rain in the morning or calling just to say "goodnight hun."

Just days after the service, I finally realized how bad I was feeling. Like, literally. Complete exhaustion, sore throat, headaches, and glands in my next so swollen you can see them. So Jake finally convinced me to go the doctor. 

Diagnosis: mono. 
Treatment: as much rest as possible for 6 weeks.
Are you serious?

"How did I get mono?" I asked the doctor. 
She said, "Well, it's more common in teens and younger adults, but if you've had it before and you've been under a lot of stress or aren't taking care of yourself- it can come back." 
"Hmm. Well all 6 of my kids just had strep throat over christmas break while my husband had the flu. Oh and then my grandpa just passed away." 
"There's your mono," she laughed. But I didn't think it was as funny as she did. "One more thing Mrs. Spencer. It's best if you don't lift your kids for the next 6 weeks either because your spleen is enlarged and has a greater possibility of rupturing if your children push on it." Awesome. Thanks. *eyeroll*

I'd like to add here how completely amazing my family and friends were while I was sick. People brought us meals, helped with the kids, and even took some laundry. Jake had to be out of town one weekend for youth winter retreat but people were so great helping to carry me through that. I'm so humbled and grateful for my church family, school family, and neighbors.

~~~

This past week I volunteered as a crew leader at VBS for the first time. It's rare that I'm not pregnant or nursing (I'm only sort of kidding). But this year they had childcare for Kate, mini-VBS for Mabry, a buddy each for Micah and Abby so they could participate, and of course Ashley and Emily went as they do every year. And because of all of that, I was able to be a volunteer myself, which was fun. Thoroughly exhausting-- but fun.

The theme this year was "Kingdom Rock: Where kids learn to stand strong"

Each day was a different catch phrase. Like,

"Gods love helps us... STAND STRONG!"
"Family and friends help us... STAND STRONG!"
"Prayer helps us... STAND STRONG!"

and so on. And of course each time you say the words "stand strong" you have to stand with your feet apart and fists on your hips to shout the words. 

The whole week was awesome and I may have been caught crab walking with my crew across the church, being a "pole" that kids threw giant rings over, wearing a cool whip beard, and other VBS adventures. In related news, I'm down 5 lbs...

But through the lessons this week,  it reminded even me- a tired mom and VBS crew leader- the eternal truth that Gods love, family and friends, prayer, and Gods Word all help us to stand strong.

When my Papaw went to heaven... and I stood in the front row of the service unable to breathe much less speak, one of my closest friends stood next to me, helping me to stand strong. When my body was weak and friends brought us meals, they were helping us stand strong. When I need to know where my Papaw is now and what he's doing, I grab our pastors sermon series on heaven. And the scripture gives me strength and hope.

So that I can stand strong.

Thank you God that You love us and carry us. Thank You that Your Word and promises are eternal and are for every generation: "Those who wait on the LORD Shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles, They shall run and not be weary, They shall walk and not faint." (Isaiah 40:31)  "Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand." (Ephesians 6:13)