these glorious moments

An afternoon at the beach...

Courtney, whose been living with us for a month and a half, stays in that corner of our living room. :) it's such a sweet spot, and i'm thinking of leaving it to become a reading nook for Amos and a great spot to spend time with the Lord. we have to figure out about all of Amos' toys though...

Courtney makes me aeropress iced caramel lattes every morning. have you tried an aeropress? it's an amazing, cheap alternative to an espresso machine!

amos loves coloring now - so, so much!

he loves to wake up and look for planes and birds.

amos with his new backpack for our cruise and trip to new york at the end of the month with ricky's family.

hanging out with shades during a time out.

amos getting his second haircut. he did great this time!!!

amos and a fishy.

He's got a lil' rhythm. :)

not much to say, just sharing some moments. :)

springtime.

and so it is, my little boy grew sick again. yes, again.
but we made it through, much quicker than last time, thank you Lord.

it's been a sweet gift, that arising from the long nights, unending projects, and sickly boy
a fresh sprinkle of rain from God onto my weary heart.

a remembering, if you will - a revisiting.
reading old journals, and closing my eyes to see, to feel, to even touch those moments with the Lord.
lonely afternoons sitting on my bed, the afternoon sun slicing through the blinds onto my bible.
praying small prayers. crying real tears. asking and receiving.

sleeps that took me, like a train from my place to the next, and hopping off into a world of dreams,
straight from heaven. of things to be, and of times to come.

His nearness. in the night.
His nearness. in the day.

reading bits and pieces from journals, not knowing what they meant but hearing the words, "oh tiffany, and it shall be like this..."

and then, it being as He said.

things coming to pass, things that seemed like chaotic ramblings - and reading them to say, "wow, and it was as He said. He is true. He is working."

God has brought such illumination and such context to the past 3 years. 3 years of desert. of much silence. of warfare. of confusion. not that is was bad, for the goodness of God was covering like a blanket all the outward parts of my life.

but inward, felt cold and shuddering. a grasping, as if like one lying on the bed reaching for the lamp in the dark, to find nothing. nothing. only stale air from yesterday.

"what am i doing wrong?" i would wonder.

but now, now, it all makes sense. i see the years for what they were. a true rebirth and a repositioning. learning, through the silence, how to come under my husband. in my poverty of spirit, finding the richness in the process of dying. watching my husband be given a voice, and step into true leadership - and I (even if unwillingly) taking such a backseat. dying to my own dreams, my own glories, my own ambitions - even that which was good and that which was holy. but in His silence, i was made silent - and my husband began to roar like a lion.

and it's good. this place. this learning. offering my love to the Lord, not in the ways I was use to, but in the small tasks, the small, the unglorious, the mundane - that which requires faith to believe it's a worthy gift - unto His glory.

but i feel a shifting, as if Ricky has grown in a tree, and myself, a mere seed in the ground (for life comes from the dying of another) is in the perfect conditions to bloom.

i feel empowered to reread the vision. i feel motivated to cling to the promises. i feel propelled into a place of contending. these things are good, in their time and in their season.

it is time.
it is the season.

with that being said, i feel a real call to share much on this blog. i will of course still post the moments i have with my family, but i also want to give anyone the opportunity to also enter into my journey. some of you may not even know Jesus, or know that He speaks - even now. some may wonder what it is this all means, but i ask you - if you want - to continue to wonder and ask and listen. He is speaking even to you.

amen&amen.

time.

Oh my gosh. Has it been this long? What a whirlwind of an introduction to spring. Sickness piled on top of sickness.

And so we have crawled out of the pneumonia crisis. Amos is breathing fine, and it was relatively and easy recovery. The chiropractor has helped immensely.

I have so much to say, as it always seems. So many memories I haven't captured, amidst the buysness and craziness. So many lessons unjournaled and transformations, of my rapidly growing toddler, and of my own heart left to be documented. I need to pause time. Take a breath. Hold onto Amos as a little boy, who still fits around the curve of my stomach.

But, alas, I can't. Time keeps on moving. Time as a mother, and time as a sojourner.

I've been reading through old journals from the months before I met Ricky. Confession is, I have been a terrible journaler since moving to San Diego. Terrible. I tell myself these will be remembered as the silent years, as I hope it to never be that way again.

And in this looking back, it seems absolutely ridiculous how the time has flew by. Only moments ago I was a little girl, whose worries were within the realm of one person - no husband to follow, to son to rest on my hip. How different my interactions with the Lord were, and how small my troubles now seem.

And here I am with a little boy. I don't really have many conclusions within this overwhelming weight of the brevity of life - of the quickness this all goes by.

It just reminds you to keep living, and to live well.

It's funny to think where I thought I'd be by this time, specifically in the realm of my relationship with the Lord. We'll see what this next season holds. I feel the breath of promise, of newness, of settling back into some of the old ways He use to speak. I miss those times, greatly.

Amos helping with dying Easter Eggs. Days before he got pneumonia. ;(