the carnival.

Dear Grandma & Papa Roy, 

It's become a tradition to visit Oak Harbor near the 4th of July for the past couple of years.  The accommodations you provide are wonderful, the company is great, and the sights are fantastic ... minus the 'carnival' that is set up right outside the kitchen window.  Only you would have thought of probably the 'BEST' birthday gift imaginable for a certain little 5 year old spending a week on the Island.  The coupon for an arm band to get on every ride was Mack's dream gift. Thank you for making a rainy day at the end of June one of the best of the summer ... and a great way to kick off Mack's latest trip around the sun.

Here's to smiles, squeals of delight, and slides that shout 'FUN' for miles around ~ 

Love, 

Lindsay, but especially Mack ... and Mason & Ava too!

the rest, the rainbow, and the real deal.

Dear Mack,

One day in June we were at the park riding bikes and the coolest thing in the world happened.  You decided (all by yourself) to take a little 'rest' under a tree. and when I came around the corner of the path, I found you sitting just like this, staring up at the sky.  I stopped to applaud your efforts on your bike and take a little 'rest' with you.  As I was talking, you were totally sidetracked with what was in the sky.

"Look at the rainbow mom!"

And sure enough, when I turned around there was this 'rainbow' floating parallel with the ground all the way across the sky in front of us.

It was beautiful.  And probably even more so for me because you were the one that saw it first.  Thanks for taking time to 'rest' long enough to catch the beauty of the 'promise' floating right in front of us... and for insisting that I take a picture of it too.

Rainbows are a promise from God, Mack.  So every time you see one, just remember that they mean hope, faith, and unfailing love.
Hope - because even when things aren't looking so great in the lives of us, we can't give up hope.  He makes all things beautiful in His time.
Faith - because we are to remain 'sure' of the things we HOPE for and know that something is real even when we don't see it.
and Unfailing Love - because God's promises are unfailing and filled with love - and the rainbow is a sign of just that!

..........................................

When we got home that afternoon,  Mor-Mor & I watched you make your own 'rainbows' with a little bit of baking soda, vinegar, and food coloring.  It was magical for all of us.

Thanks for being creative with the simplest of things - that is a gift in itself.  And I love that the end result of your creation was 'green'... because green in my world means you're growing.  Growing - not just on the outside, but on the inside too.

Loving you so much and enjoying my summer at home with you,

Mom

fishing & a sleepover too.

Dear Rian,

I remember the day you were born.  We were so excited for your arrival and I think all of Rocky Heights claimed you as their own.  Your Grammy Judy and I taught first grade together for 7+ years and I think I've shared in many of the {special} moments of her life - as well as yours.  Your birth was one of those.  I've been blessed to know you & share in your life for 11 years now ... and there will be many more to come!

You've been a great friend to my boys.  You share your toys when they're over at your house & put up with their chasing and shooting and jumping all around without blinking an eye.  Not many people put up with that - and you do ... with patience and a giant smile!

Earlier this summer, your mom & I came up with a great plan for you to come and stay the night at our place.  My boys were asking "what time will Rian be here?" as soon as they woke up.  5 o'clock couldn't come soon enough. You arrived with your bag and a stack of PGG Grain hats for each of us.  (They are worn with pride!)  The excitement of the adventure was contagious.  Everyone was smiling!

You see, I think it was intended for this to be a trial run for your time at camp, but it turned out to be more of a gift to us than you.  We were able to share our favorite fishing hole, a bunch of hot dogs, the roping of a calf, and a dusty ride on the back of the pickup home with you.  The things that are "ordinary" to us were an adventure for you & my boys were proud to share "life" with you.  Thank you for  saying yes please and no thank you.  My boys were listening! :)  You smiled at every turn and always had your thumb in the air.  Happiness defines you.

I'm so thankful you were able to share in the life of us for 24 hours.  Those 24 hours were definitely a highlight of our summer.  Guaranteed.

We can't wait to hear about your time at camp.  Maybe your mom & dad will let you come for another sleepover when you return, and then you can tell us all about it!!  I promise to cook hot dogs and have a bag of chips open!

Cheering you on and thanking God for the gift of you in the lives of us,

Ian, Lindsay, Mason & Mack

the calf that was missed. {almost}

Dear little {black} calf,

Sometimes, when people get in a hurry, or feel rushed, they miss some of the most important details in life.  It's rarely on purpose, but it happens - even to the best of them.  The phone rings, or an email pops up on the screen, or a fight between siblings breaks out, or they simply just forget.  Life as a multi-tasker - not always what it's cracked up to be.

Ian knew your mama was about to have a baby any day.  He watched her carefully, and took a close look every time he was down at the river.  Finally, he decided it was probably best to just bring her home.  So he loaded her up, brought her up to our barn, and kept watching her. 

Things just didn't seem right, so we headed back down to the river that evening to fish and drove right by this pasture.  There you were - hidden in some tall grass, content as could be.  One whole day spent away from your mama & you weren't phased a bit.  Funny thing is, neither was she.

I'm kinda glad some of the details were "missed" in the life of you, because it gave the boys and I an opportunity to watch Ian put his roping skills to work on the ground.  One loop was all it took. 

I'm not sure how enjoyable the pickup ride home was for you, but I certainly do appreciate the fact you rode quietly and without much drama in the front seat with me.  You may, or may not notice that the majority of our herd is not black.  Don't take it personally.  You're unique, and although you may have been "missed" at first, you're definitely a stand-out now.

Here's to a hot summer - filled with good milk, a caring mama, and a cattleman that is glad you're here!

Grow fast,

Lindsay

bike rider.

Dear Mack,

We took those two, little, worn out, pathetic looking, wobbly wheels off two months ago.  Those wheels that have been a sense of security for you over the past 2 years kept you balanced and happy.  You loved riding your bike and you were confident each and every time you got on.  You knew that you could go anywhere you wanted with no help at all, and there was never a fear of who would be next to you or what might happen if you made a wrong turn.

Standing next to your bike and holding it up was easy.  Getting on and tipping left, right, and left again wasn’t.  The unsure and unsteady feeling that seemed to pour out of you broke my heart.  Fear was winning.  You begged us to put the “twaining ones” back on, but we promised it was better without them.  We coaxed you along, and Papa Gary was able to get you to go about 30 feet before you gave up.

Your bike sat for two months.  You would watch Mason ride, and usually opt for the Green Machine, but getting back on your bike was never an option.  No matter what I would say or do to reassure you that after some practice you’d be a Superstar on 2 wheels, you wouldn’t budge.  The look in your eyes said, “I want to trust you, and I believe what you’re saying might be true, but ... I can’t do it.”

And then it happened.  The first day of summer arrived and we convinced you to try again.  I gave you some jargon about how you were just a few days away from being 5 and that you would be the bravest and proudest 4 year old in all the land if you would just try.  I felt like Dr. Seuss.  “Try it, try it, and then you’ll see …” 

Something changed.  Braveness appeared all around you and confidence swirled like a tornado.  You got on, pushed off, and peddled your way around the house, over, and over, and over again.  

Oh to be you at the age of “almost 5.”

By nature you are not a dare-devil.  You like “steady”… “routine” … “sure”.  Having both feet firmly planted is your idea of fun.  You are your father’s son.

That day when you realized that I’d let go and not left your side, something happened to your soul.  I ran next to you cheering and clapping, and you begged for me to hold on and not let go.  “You’re doing it, Mack … all by yourself,” is what I kept repeating.  And then, when I stopped and you kept going, my heart soared.  I’m certain yours did too.

There are going to be a lot of things in the life of you that require faith.  Riding a two-wheeled bike is just the beginning. 

Bob Goff says it well in his book Love Does with this statement:

Faith isn’t about knowing all the right stuff or obeying a list of rules.  It’s something more, something more costly because it involves being present and making a sacrifice.

Faith is more about what you’re going to see in people than what they say Mack.  If they’re present in your life, you’re going to know it.  You are going to know it because they’re “there,” even when they’re not. 

I don’t know what changed your mind that day, but I hope it had something to do with what you saw me doing  - running along side, cheering, and believing in you… and it's what I promise to do for the rest of my life.

I held you with my eyes, and I’m still holding on today – as tightly as I can, and even though I’ve let go, I’m still right here.  Trust me & have faith in what I’ve shown you … and then go, and believe in YOU. 

I’m with you. 

All the way.

And a whole lot of other people are too.

Loving you so much (my almost 5 year old),

Mom