do what He tells you to do

Dear Mason,

I know I'm your mom, but today, as I rode down to the barn with you on the 4 wheeler, I realized that I am actually growing up with you. Sounds a bit silly, but really, it's not. When I was your age, I wasn't cleaning out barn stalls or filling up water troughs.  I wasn't driving a feed truck or checking heifers in the middle of the night. I wasn't good with a sorting stick, and I had no idea how to back anything up. No - I was playing with dolls, attempting to play a few songs on the piano, reading books, learning how to organize my dresser drawers, and baking cookies with my mom every chance I got. When the weather was bad, I stayed inside. If it was too hot, I found shade.  I didn't know how to check cows, and honestly I probably didn't know the difference between a cow and a bull other than their size. I didn't know where to stand when yearlings are being sorted or how to close a gate when the wind is blowing the wrong direction. No - I didn't know any of what you know at age 9.  In fact, I didn't know any of this life before the age of 26.

It's President's Day today. We have the day off from school because it's a holiday, but around here - there is no "time off." We helped your dad sort off replacement heifers this morning after cleaning barn stalls and spreading fresh straw.  The wind was just starting to blow, and the mud around the ally-way and the troughs was at least 2 feet deep.  Even the best of muck boots don't help you on days like today. The wind gusted, the cattle ran in circles, and the 3 of us kept at it for two hours. You opened gates, pushed the heifers to the left and to the right - quietly making your presence known. What an important feat that is - making your presence quietly known. You were only yelled at a couple of times, and really it wasn't you that was getting yelled at, it was the situation. Anyway, I think you knew that, but it still isn't great on the ego to get yelled at.

Hours later, I've found myself back in the house with your brother - making soup for supper and watching you continue to work through the window.  The sun is shining at times, but is providing little warmth. You're dragging feeders to new locations and you're remembering to close all the gates behind you. Your hood is up, your gloves are sticking out of your pockets, and you're smiling in that "I'm singing to myself" sort of smile. I'm smiling too - because I can't think of a more awesome 9 year old that I'd rather "grow up" with than you.

Your life isn't boring, you're never given the option of not trying new things, and you're learning about real-life struggles in the best sort of way right here in our corner of Eastern Oregon. You and I have a motto when we're working with your dad ... and it's one you need to keep close to your heart and soul from now until forever because it's not just going to help you make it through life with your "earthly" father, but is key in living the fullest life with Jesus too.

Do Whatever He Tells You

Yes, it's a motto of 5 key words that can make or break you. Five words that give you a chance to live fully.  But to live fully, you have to choose to say yes to all He gives.  And son, that includes the hard, the glorious, the worst, the most painful, and even the very best of days.  It's every. single. day.  ... and it's not always easy to do whatever He tells you to do, but it sure is worth the fight.

You're 9.

I'm 37.

I hope I get to grow up with you from now until forever - doing whatever He tells us to do.

{and doing whatever your dad tells us to do too}

Love,
Mom

sunshine and blue skies.

I will always, always, always be thankful when the sun shines.

And when the sky is blue and there is extra help - I will whisper thanks for that too.

Because when the sun shines and the sky is blue, and you find yourselves blessed with four extra hands ... well, that's when you know you've been handed a priceless gift in the form of friends.

Friends that have hands to hold sorting sticks ... and have arms to wave ... and mouths to whisper quiet, repetitive, and short {hep, hep, hep}to get cows moving ... and feet to maneuver to the spaces that need to be filled.

Yes - days that have sunshine and the bluest kind of sky should be celebrated in every sort of way - especially in the winter.  Because days like this one are few and far between.

Days with sweatshirts and hoods, and gloves that are too big.

Days with Whitey looking all pretty and white instead of gray.

Days with smiling boys and a smiling husband too.

Days where even the dogs feel like getting out of the pickup and soaking up some vitamin D.

Because on days when the sun shines and the fog stays away just long enough, you feel like you can conquer the world.

And even shoveling gravel turns out to be fun, while laughter echoes off of the hillside.

Everyone is working together in the finest sort of way and things quietly come together.

I'm dreaming of this day and wishing it could resurface again - sooner rather than later.  Not just because the sun was shining and the sky was blue, but because it was meaningful.

It was our mini calf playing in the pen with his mama, while Jarred & Ian worked together as if Clayton had never left, and laughter about {just go ahead and stand there in the way why don't you?} keeping his memory alive.

Yes, this day where fog kept its distance and sunshine soaked our souls ... I'm wishing for it again.
And I'm also thanking God for its memory that breathed life into a busy day - reminding us that He's near & He's got enough blue skies and rays of sunshine to get us through every bit of this winter - even when it's hard.

Christmas morning in the afternoon.

Dear Mack,

As we pulled out of the driveway, you muttered, "this isn't fair" ... and you were totally right. It wasn't. No 6 year old in America probably had to wait until noon to open their presents on Christmas day.  Well, one did. You.

You had been so excited for Christmas morning to get here and had patiently counted down the days, and eventually the hours and minutes until the presents could be opened.  You love presents.  Actually, I can't think of anyone who doesn't like presents, but you've got to be close to the top of the list of present admirers in the history of all things {present}.

But, like most things in our world, presents weren't the priority.  I think that the chaos of the morning and the driving out of the driveway when we should have been tearing into wrapping paper was really a whisper from God that Christmas really isn't all about the presents - even though I can honestly say that the 4 of us already know that from the tips of our toes to the top of our heads and back down again.

The cows had to be moved that morning, and when cows have to be moved, cows have to be moved ... at least in the world of Murdock. And in the world of Murdock, cows trump everything.  Even presents on Christmas.

It was cold that morning as we crammed into the pickup with thermoses of hot chocolate and the dogs. I think I was the one that burst into tears first. Neither you or Mason were quite sure what to say or do except bury your head in your hands and cry with me. I even caught myself screaming silently about how unfair it was that we were driving down the road when we could have been enjoying the warmth of home around our beautiful Christmas tree like every other family in America.

And then, as quickly as I had started to cry, I started laughing.  We all did. And as crazy as it sounds, I began to actually appreciate that our Christmas wasn't going to match the rest of the world.  No one else was going to have a Christmas like ours.  Having something different than others, well that's worth laughing about, and if I were a bragger, I'd brag about it too. We stand out in a crowd because we're never in a crowd to be a part of the crowd - we're usually just passing through.

So, 4+ hours later, when we finally got back home ... guess what - the presents were still there, the sun was shining, the yummy breakfast was really a yummy brunch, and the magic of Christmas came right out of the hearts of us because it turns out Christmas is about giving & receiving ... and when it might have been easy to get a little confused about the order - we nailed it.

So, Mack ... when you look back at this Christmas of being 6 and having to wait hours longer than the average 6 year old has to wait to open presents, remember that the word "presence" is really where it's at.

You were present while we moved cows.  You were present when we opened and closed some gates.  You were present filling water troughs, and you were present where you were the present - to me, to your dad, and to a whole bunch of cows.

It's easy to get caught up in the world's view of Christmas - where presents are more important the presence.  They sound a lot alike, and they are similar, but you hold the key to making them come alive right in your depths of your heart and soul - in that place where Jesus can live in and through you!  That's the real gift, and it doesn't need a holiday to work it's magic. His presence is the present - all year, every year from now until eternity.

Thank you for being awesome enough to actually understand how important it is give ... and then receive.  You and your brother are extraordinary in that sense. You live a different life than most and you probably always will, but even when you find yourself in the midst of ordinary, remember - you are uniquely YOU and that is a gift worth giving to the world. You may not be wrapped in the shiniest paper, but your presence in the world is a gift.

May you always have that awe and wonder of the gifts you're given, and may you always be as understanding as you were on the Christmas you were 6.  That was the best gift you could have ever given me without even trying.

I love you & I hope you know how much ~

Mom

when the best option is to jump.

I've never been a huge fan of trampolines.  There is something about the lack of control one has when others are jumping next to them that just puts knots in my stomach.  Maybe because when I was about 22 years old, I found myself with an ankle swollen to three times the normal size after a fun "jump off" with my friend Chad, and walked around in an air cast for weeks. Yes, I'm pretty certain that absolutely has something to do with it.

My boys would love it if the whole world was a giant trampoline. They would run and jump everywhere - flipping, twisting, turning, and casting all their trust in the rebound ... knowing and believing that with each bounce, the momentum won't stop ...  the adrenaline will keep them going ... and they'll always bounce back.

Something happens when we "grow up" that takes the trust right out of the jump.  We quit doing it.  We quit jumping like we should, which means we quit trusting like we should too.  Notice all of the "grown ups" just watching?  {yes, I was one of the watchers too} Why do we reach this place where we are afraid to jump?

I questioned why I hadn't brought my sweats that day in my mind. And then I laughed to myself just picturing what it would look like jumping with my boys while all the other "watchers" watched this mama absolutely make a fool out of herself.  I can't jump worth a darn any more.  In fact, I'd be out of breath before I could even get out of the first pit - I'm sure of it.

The point is, I shouldn't be afraid to jump.  I may not be young anymore and physically capable of bouncing from one surface to another with ease, but there are a lot of areas in my life where "jumping" should be the only option - the only option for really learning what it feels like to fly.

The next time I find myself watching from the sidelines, I'm going to grab a pen or my phone and start typing away.  I'm going to start writing down where I need to be more bold and brave.  I'm going to type the names of those people I want to have a "jump off" contest with.  And I'm going to ask myself where I'm supposed to be jumping to and get it down in print.

There's nothing worse than just watching and not doing anything about it. Jump.

Jump and soar your way through those places where you feel like you're sinking.

Bound after those dreams you've had hidden away because they seemed too silly to catch.

Glide into a new place - where you say {I trust in YOU} because I know You've got me and You already know where I'm going to land.

And before you know it, you'll be jumping ... and you'll have a whole bunch of people jumping with you.

And you'll never be afraid to have a {jump off} again, because you know that you'll win.