There are times in your life, moments really, when you know what you are experiencing can only be the work of God. I am in one of those moments.  There have been four of these clear touches over the last two weeks.  It has left me stunned. 

I had been struggling with several situations over the past month or so.  I could not let the emotions of the situations go.  They circled my brain constantly and I allowed them to taint other relationships.  I allowed them to control me.  It made me angry and bitter. Angry because of how people were behaving and angry because I allowed it to impact me.  Bitter because their behavior was negatively impacting those I loved and bitter because I couldn't make it right.

My relationship with God has been rather lax over the past 4 years.  Sure, there have been moments of clarity, but largely murky and undefined.  My purposeful commitment, my focus, my drive were simply missing.  Someone told me that it takes fives years to "recover" from a traumatic life event.  I have experienced that, as I round into the 5th anniversary of my sister's passing.  I can recognize this same journey in another friend who is about 1-2 years behind me.

Over this past month, I was so mired and wrapped up in such mess that I could not think straight.  I could not release it.  At the bottom of the pit, I had a choice...to confront the issue head on which would have resulted nothing short of total disaster, permanently destroying relationships.  OR, I could turn it all over to God. 

It was late, late one night in August as I was trying to fall asleep. Future confrontational conversations were swirling and playing out in my head as it had for nearly a month.  I felt my shoulders tense, my head began to pound, my anger rose.  At that moment, I was utterly defeated.  I let out an audible sigh.  Then, I slowly and timidly slid my toe into the waters of forgiveness and restoration.  My conversation was brief, yet to the point. Take it all, God, take it all from me.... take the thoughts, the irritations and bitterness, and take my hurt.  Help me to forget this.  Help me to stop the negative feelings.  Remove it all.  I woke up several times during the night and prayed the same prayer.  Take it ALL.

From that time forward I have continued to receive confirmation that God is at work.  Little signs that may appear to be insignificant alone, but together you just know.  The timing of these moments are so perfect in their execution that they are the work of the perfecter of my faith.  The all-consuming thoughts have now been reduced to fleeting moments.  The time spent dwelling replaced with praise and prayers.  My vision to this journey is that I used to have a little piece of yarn running between God and me, thin and a little limp. Now, I have this thick cord, strong, full of lots of little cords all woven together. 

My gratitude has been so overwhelming that I nearly fell to my knees at one point.  Not only do I see the impact in my own heart, I see it in my family.  Sadie brought me her bible last night which she had marked in several places.  She wanted to discuss some of what she read.  The others have amped up their praying, though I have not prodded them.  My own focus has been in growing in Him, trusting Him. 

I am in awe.  I would even go so far as to say shocked.  I don't know why I am as He has never left me.  He has always been there.  My eyes were elsewhere so I did not see or feel His presence.  Lord, give me the strength to never let my eyes stray again.  Life is too good where I am now.

Where Was I?

I was seven months pregnant and had an early morning ob-gyn appointment.  I left the appointment and headed to my job as an Account Manager for a publication serving the home furnishings industry.  As I pulled into the parking lot, I remember distinctly, the radio dj announcing that a "small plane, like a cessna" had hit one of the World Trade Towers.  At that point, it appeared to be an errant plane and I was amazed that a building could withstand a plane hit and not collapse.  As I made my way to my cubicle, I noticed my colleagues crowded into my boss's office glued to the television, silent.  I walked in and was quickly given the update.  One large plane into one of the towers.  As we sat there, we watched the next plane fly into the other tower.  I remember being completely stunned. The pit in my stomach growing as each minute passed.  Watching the faces of those in NY, everyone trying to make sense of it all.  I remember being the only one who could actually access CNN online.  I don't know how or why, but I was.  Then, the plane hit the pentagon.  I recall telling this news to some colleagues on the floor below us.  Their reaction full of fear and disbelief.  I wondered if this meant we were at war and with whom.  I wondered what this meant for my 15 month old and my unborn daughter. The first tower fell and the inescapable moans and "oh no, no, nos" of those watching these events around that small television added to the tension and panic in the air. Out of our office windows, we watched plane after plane being diverted to our airport.  There was no work to do that day as everything in the world seemed insignificant to what was unfolding on the television.  Local news alerted us to heightened security around the large propane gas field directly across the street from our office complex.  We were told to go home. I am sure that I made phone calls to family and friends, glued to the television the rest of the day at home, but honestly, the rest of the day is lost.

Things I Find Fantastic

1. Fishing
2. Kettle Chips
3. Alone time with my family of five
4. Teaching History
5. Chicken Curry dish at Saffron India Restaurant
6. Researching chickens- as in raising them
7. Homemade French Toast with real french toast
8. Decorative edge paper punches
9. Duck Tape crafts
10. Foreign language films, particularly the run of Dutch ones Jay has played every night

Not Today.

I am hiding in my room.  Yes, hiding.  For the moment I cannot deal with my middle child, my stomping, slinging, irritated, grumpy, frustrated middle child.  All of this energetic display over...long division.  She knows how to do it, but just doesn't want to do it.  Can I blame her?  I hated it.  Yet, the workbook pages are there, empty, waiting.  Not only does she not want to do it, but she doesn't want to keep the problems "in line."  She wants to do it her way and wants to understand fully why she must keep it looking orderly.  I am not about to explain dividing decimals to her at this point.  She just doesn't like how it looks to have a remainder dangling out there in space, not above a line.  I just walked out of the room.  Not going to entertain her today.  Not going to give her an excuse as to why she is still at her desk after we have picked Ethan up from school.  Not going to argue or console or assist her to the point of doing the work for her.  Not going to do it today.  The burden is hers, not mine.  So, I hide.

Two Lessons from an Eleven Year Old

Having faith like a child. It has been more than that from my oldest. He has become the teacher. It has caused me to think deeply about many of my positions and statements. It has been humbling.
This year, the eldest has taken a vested interested, rather, determined to be friends with everyone in his class, from the quasi-bully to the meek to the semi-irritating. This is a trait he exhibited a bit last year. I have been highly supportive of this effort. That is, until he determined himself to be closely associated with the child that might be deemed "troubled." He began to tell me the story of how he realized this boy didn't have many friends and was seldom alone in class, the lunchroom, etc. I began questioning him if that were such the wise choice. I thought, "Oh no, the other boys will no longer want to be his friend. He will be assumed to be along the lines of this boy. He will lose his position in class." I began to question him to help him see the light. it was my job to help him navigate the tricky social waters of middle school. He need to make sure to rotate through all the boys, not lingering with this one too long. Then, my wise son said, "Mom, why do you not want me to sit with him? Isn't that the first place Jesus would sit? You know, Mom, this boy is actually really nice. I feel blessed to have been able to sit with him the past couple of days. He doesn't care about being popular, or being cool. He is real, Mom." I sat there with my head very low. He was right. He was doing what mattered. My position was completely and totally wrong. Lesson #1

The eldest is going through his first 12 week band rotation. All the kids were able to try out various instruments and then list their first and second choices down on paper. A few days later instruments were distributed much to the delight and dismay of their new owners (or rather renters as the school owns the instruments). My son proudly popped into the back seat of the car with...a trumpet. Thrilled at the prospect of the instrument that he had in his possession, he quickly undid the case, put the trumpet together and blared a half-way decent note in the car. Ouch to my ears, but he was clearly over the moon. Later that evening, his father learned of the trumpet. Unbeknownst to the rest of the family, Jay has always had a desire to blow a trumpet and learn to play. He had the eldest to bring the trumpet to him. Jay picked it up, took one big breath and...nothing. Over and over again Jay tried to create any sort of sound roughly related to the horn to come from the trumpet Nothing. Ethan patiently advised him, encouraged him, and cheered him on. Ethan held onto the sides of his mouth where air was escaping. Still, nothing. I found the entire situation rather amusing. I don't recall ever having seen Jay not be able to achieve something he wanted. My laughter was fairly continuous. Ethan, however, settled me down and continue to "work" with Jay. Seeing Ethan so patiently and encouragingly deal with Jay stopped me in my tracks. This is how God intends us to train our children. In the end, Ethan didn't ridicule his father for being such a failure at the instrument, but offered up that maybe Jay's lips were just too big and that one day he just knew he would do it. Lesson #2

End of School Year Review

School ended.  It ended nearly 2 months ago and I let it slip by with nary a mention.  Ideas for this blog come and go as I go about my days, but they don't find their way onto this screen.  My picture taking is down, my scrapbooking nonexistent, documentation of the little things is dwindling.

As I type this, I am sitting in the car heading home from our week at Ocracoke Island.  What a wonderful thing technology is that I have Internet access on a laptop in a moving car.  It certainly helps pass the time.

Ethan is now a middle schooler. Sixth grade looms ahead in the fall.  I remember those sticky middle school years and it makes me long for the next three tumultuous years to pass quickly.  He ended the year with an all A average. He had 2 Bs throughout the year, but they were both one point away from an A, so it wasn't too difficult to turn those into all As for the year. He had some pretty fantastic remarks from his teachers as well, so I feel good about where he is headed.  Stanford scores, once again, qualify him for the Duke Tip program in several areas. He begged to do Math Camp at school this summer...who am I to turn that down?  He still has some maturing to do in regards to goofiness and blabbering, but sometimes I think I am too hard on some naturally occurring irritations of an 11 year old boy.  He is still swimming and enjoying it, but I believe that the craziness of this activity has subsided.  This will be a nice addition to his high school transcript, but he is more likely to benefit from his academic gifts in the future, than he ever will in sports.

Sadie finished our first year of homeschool.  We struggled a bit in the end with completing work and our enthusiasm for learning. However, she learned what she needed and then some.  She showed strong gains overall in her Stanford Testing scores with the exception of Math.  It wasn't as high as last year, but still higher than her class average.  Reading was fantastic and Listening showed a tremendous gain.  Her scores qualify for the Duke Tip program in several areas, too.  I tribute that to the necessity of focusing on me, her teacher, at all times.  The environment of homeschool does not allow for daydreaming.  Although most school work comes easily for her, she just doesn't care about it.  I don't know if it is boredom, or lack of motivation, but rarely do I see Sadie "tackle" school work with keen focus on accuracy and completing her task to the best of her ability.  She would much prefer to be outside, collecting animals to care for and to learn about.  She dawdled about with swimming this year.  Some days she cared, some days she could have cared less.  Considering she probably put forth about 40% effort total for the year, she did all right.  One area in which I never had to prod her was with her piano and participation in the arts (drama and dance).  She practiced without any reminders and seemed always to enjoy being on stage.  I always wonder what Sadie could actually achieve in academics, sports, whatever, if she actually put forth what I see is her total potential.  I don't think this is something I can teach her, but is something she has to figure out herself.  However, I also believe that happiness and joy are always going to be more important to her than success.  Should I really complain about that?  Shouldn't we all be that way?

Lily finished her 1st grade year with very high marks, a perfect report card.  Considering she is one of the youngest in her class and that we were advised to consider holding her back in school, I am pleased.  I think the biggest shocker to me, however, were her Stanford scores.  Not only did she vastly improve her scores over last year, her reading lexile score was 900 (about a 6th grade level).  What a little sneaker!  She can act so incapable of everyday tasks sometimes that I think there might be an issue.  Now, I realize that she just likes to act like a baby.  She still has this amazing sense of imagination and ability at creative play.  She loves to do summer work and learn. In fact, she brought her summer workbook with her to a swim meet to pass the time. She is not necessarily the most coordinated child, so swimming is a good sport for her. It forces her to work on that aspect of her body.  Also, she can go at her own pace and I would venture to guess that we may still only have three legal strokes at the end of this year.  She, too, loved piano and any sort of musical activity she was involved in.  She received the "Friendliest" award this year for her class.  Her enthusiasm for new things never wavers and she is the first to bring along her friends who might not feel as confident.  Lily has no clue she might not be "good" at something, an attitude I hope remains for a very long time. 

It was a solidly successful year for the Dumoulins.  We are incredibly blessed to have been given these three precious gifts.

If you could understand the motives of my heart.
If you could understand the depth of my concern and love for you.
If you could understand that seeing your world start to crumble is nearly as painful for me as it is you. 
If you could understand that I am willing to damage and possibly sacrifice my relationship with you for you.
If you could understand that I was coming from a place of truth and true compassion and worry. 
If you could understand that I have been there. 
If you could understand that I know what you are running from. 
If you could understand that I know that most of your justifications help mask the hurts you have had.
If you could understand that the others in your life deserved more from you.
If you could understand that the commitment you made to others is more important than yourself.
If you could understand that.
You would understand why.

Love = service + sacrifice