I Am So Good, My Goodness is Running Over!

February 2, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / Leave a comment

The week that Chris and I spent moving Grammy into a nursing home was an interesting one, because we were the youngest residents of Primrose Assisted Living Community by at least 20 years. I felt a little out of my comfort zone. Chris was outgoing and friendly as usual, striking up conversations in the hallways and elevators. We encountered all sorts of older folks. Some were very friendly and smiled when they saw us. Others didn’t pay us any mind. Many looked downright miserable. Most of the residents we never saw at all. The dining rooms and open spaces were not very full. The special library and computer room which offered free internet access was always deserted. I am talking crickets, it was so quiet! Chris and I used that computer constantly and never encountered another soul. I think most of the residents spent their days in their rooms.

We would see two ladies working at a table in the hallway, putting together a puzzle. The one woman told me that she and her husband had moved into Primrose together, but now she was alone. I saw the sadness in her eyes. I realized that everyone there had a story to tell, had a burden to carry, and had a cross to bear.

Chris and I would eat breakfast in their dining room in an effort to save time and money. A few older folks would gather each morning to eat the yucky food. Sorry, but the food was not very tasty or healthy! All I wanted was scrambled eggs. Just simple eggs without any refined flour or sugars to upset my stomach. They never had eggs, and when I special ordered them from the kitchen, they came out looking like a lumpy yellow mound, certainly not like the eggs I made at home.

The conversations in the dining room often centered around what ailments were plaguing the speaker that particular day and who was going to what doctor’s appointments. There were many chronic problems and diseases that brought constant pain. My compassion was aroused and I wished desperately that I could lay hands on all of them and bring healing like Jesus did.

One resident was different from all the rest. His smile was wider and his face shown brighter. Every person he encountered got the feeling that he was just delighted to talk to them. I don’t even remember his name, but I remember his joy. It was as though everything in the limited world of Primrose Assisted Living brought him endless happiness. Perhaps it wasn’t the world of Primrose at all that brought him such pleasure. Perhaps it was the inner world of his spirit

We sat with this pleasant man at breakfast one morning. I hesitated to ask the residents how they were doing, fearing what sad story that question might invoke. However, when we asked this man how he was that morning, his response was memorable.

“I am so good, my goodness is running over!” he said with a smile.

He went on to tell us that he had grown up in Wisconsin. He told us some charming stories about his childhood. He told us that he was a priest and he never married or had any children. It didn’t sound like he had any family at all. But he loved being a priest, and he loved his present life, that was apparent.

Someone else walked up to chat with him and asked how he was. Same response.

“I am so good, my goodness is running over!”

He was the bright spot during my stay at Primrose. I can no longer remember the details of the stories that he shared with me, but I will never forget that statement.

“I am so good, my goodness is running over!”

My life is so full of family, home, health, youth, and blessings. Yet I cannot yet say truthfully what he did. I still have my list of complaints and worries, woes and concerns. I hope to someday learn to love life the way that dear man did. I hope to experience the truth that God’s goodness is actually always overflowing my boundaries and running over my limits and filling my life to overflowing with His love!

I Heard God Serenading Me

January 29, 2015January 29, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 5 Comments

It was late January of 2011. Christmas had just passed. It was the bleak midwinter, and Chris and I found ourselves emerged in the cold and snow of Wisconsin. We were in a situation we never anticipated and were unprepared for, in over our heads and praying for strength and wisdom.

My grandmother, who I always affectionately called “Grammy”, had suffered a stroke. She was placed in rehab and we expected her to make a full recovery and return to her assisted living apartment. Then my mom received a call from the fancy, new rehabilitation facility. A social worker informed her that Grammy had refused all rehab and had hardly walked since the stroke. Grammy had developed dementia and was deemed unable to make her own decisions. She certainly couldn’t return to her apartment and the very expensive room at the rehab facility was doing her no good at all. Yet she was still paying for both places. We were told that if a relative didn’t come to Wisconsin and become her guardian, she would become a ward of the state.

We all felt that Chris was the best candidate to travel to Wisconsin. He would take care of Grammy’s finances and get her situated in a nursing home. He was so gifted at organization and decision making. His time as an employee of Home Instead Senior Care had well acquainted him with the needs of senior citizens. At the last minute, it worked out for me to go as well. I left my seven children with trusted friends and traveled with Chris into the unknown. I felt a special grace for this time, yet I felt a huge weight of responsibility as well. Grammy had always been able to take care of herself, being very healthy and as sharp as a tack. Now at 96, she was to become our responsibility. I was used to Grammy telling me what to do, not the other way around!

We rented a guest room at Primrose, the assisted living community where Grammy had an apartment. It was new and beautiful and very comfortable. We were only supposed to be there 3-4 days which meant our schedule would be non-stop. We had to see a lawyer and then a judge to be granted guardianship. Then we had to visit nursing homes and chose one. We had to visit Grammy several times, of course, and work things out with rehab and Primrose. We had to think about applying for financial aid. Although the nursing homes were not nearly as nice as her current home, they charged a lot more, and we had no access to Grammy’ financials until the judge said we did. Once the judge granted Chris the guardianship, we had to visit all Grammy’s banks and clear out her apartment. We had to sell her car and forward her mail. The list went on and on without end. I kept a pen and paper with me constantly to write down every new name and number, every new appointment. My mind was so overwhelmed with details that I could hardly think straight.

When visiting Grammy, my heart was torn. She spoke so intelligently. She sounded so much like the Grammy that I had always known. I would think that I was making a horrible mistake by taking control of her life and moving her to a nursing home. Then she would remind us of why we were there. She would think Chris was one of the nurses. She would talk about the “seed soup” that she loved to eat. It turned out that “seed soup” was just tea with thickener added to it so she wouldn’t aspirate. That was about all she would ingest. She had stopped eating most food and had stopped walking. Yet the nurses would mash up a horrible concoction of all her medications and force her to eat it, usually on an empty stomach. Awful!

She would take a phone call from her boyfriend. After a minute, the phone would slip out of her hand and into her lap, yet she would continue talking as if the phone was still up to her mouth.

I knew we had made the right decision, transferring her to a memory care facility. Grammy was still very strong willed and feisty, and I wasn’t sure that she would agree that we had her best interests in mind. I told her gently that she couldn’t return to her beloved apartment but that we would be moving some of her things to a new place. She became so upset that she started feeling sick and displaying all manner of symptoms. Then she promptly fell asleep, sitting up and in the middle of our conversation. I prayed desperately that God would comfort her. She woke up a few minutes later and was in much better spirits.

It was Tuesday morning and like every other morning of the trip, I woke up at 4am and my stomach fluttered with nervousness. I felt so overwhelmed with all we had to do that day, and it seemed like more than we could handle. In addition, I was supposed to be flying home on Wednesday to be with the children. There was a historic winter storm with blizzard conditions and freezing rain from the Rockies to New England. The airports were being shut down, and I wouldn’t be able to fly home. My heart ached for my children. I hated to ask our baby sitters to stay with them for a whole week, but we had no choice.

I felt sad that I hadn’t visited Grammy in the past 12 years. We didn’t have the money to travel to see her, and it was hard to coordinate to take the whole family all the way to Wisconsin. Yet, here I was now, when I had to be. I was grateful to be able to help Grammy in any way that I could. Yet we still didn’t have the money to travel, and we weren’t sure how we were going to purchase plane tickets home (whenever the snow cleared) and how we were going to pay our babysitters.

I thought about how we had to go through all of Grammy’s belongings and decide which things she would like to keep with her at Harbor House and which we had to get rid of. I thought of going through all her personal papers and financial documents, all of her private memories and treasured trinkets, and I felt wretched, as though I was betraying her trust!

I felt awful about putting her in a nursing home. I wanted to bring her back to Pennsylvania to live with us, but I just couldn’t see how that would work. Could she even travel? Would she be devastated to leave the town that she had spent most of her life in?

All these thoughts wouldn’t allow me to get anymore sleep. I slipped out of bed as quietly as I could and got into the shower. The spiral of thoughts and emotions continued until I just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.

“I just want to go home and be with my children, but there is no way that I can!” I said to God.

Then sweetly and softly I heard God singing over me! It was a song by Mercy Me that I had heard on the Christian station, and God sang it to me something like this:

“You’re Beautiful! You’re Beautiful! You are treasured, you are sacred, and you are mine. You’re beautiful.”

I felt wretched. I felt homesick.

God was calling me beautiful!

I felt overwhelmed. I felt inadequate. I felt like I was doing everything wrong.

God was calling me beautiful!

And I experienced his deep, deep love for me when He sang it. It was like the love of a husband watching his wife have a stressed induced meltdown over some silly thing. He understands her thoughts and knows the depths of her heart. He is used to her swirling emotions. He knows that all the details that she is so concerned about will simply fall into place. He knows that she doesn’t need to worry at all, and her freaking out will accomplish nothing. Yet he looks at her and he can’t help but love her, despite her failings…because she is his beloved bride. Even though her face is red and blotchy with tears, her husband can’t help but see her overwhelming beauty. He is totally and completely in love with her at all times, no matter what.

That is how God made me feel that day in the shower. Isn’t He an amazing God! That He loves us so completely! His love was all I needed to take courage again and keep pressing forward, through the rest of the week, through moving Grammy’s stuff and moving Grammy and preparing everything that needed to be done before we returned to Pennsylvania.

Now, years later I look back on that frozen week in Wisconsin with awe and wonder. It was a blessed miracle. I saw God give us favor with the right people and witnessed Him work out all of the details. I got to spend precious time with Grammy. And the blizzard? God worked it out for my good. Instead of traveling home early, I was able to see Grammy comfy and cozy in her new little room. I got to see her happy in her new home (even though she did call it a “nut house”). I got to see her enjoy food and walk again! I got to kiss her and say goodbye before she took an afternoon nap. It turned out to be the last afternoon nap she would ever take on this earth. She finally felt at peace enough to let her spirit fly…and I got to be there…while God sang.

“He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.” Zeph 3:17

Mommy Brain

January 25, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / Leave a comment

Some people say there is a curious thing that happens to a woman’s brain when she becomes a mother. Something to do with changing hormones that causes her brain to function differently. She becomes a bit forgetful and confused, prone to illogical outbursts of emotions. I don’t know if I believe that, but I sure have experienced “Mommy Brain.” For me it is a simple case of constant overstimulation. At any given moment of any day, there are several children tearing through the house in different directions, bent on accomplishing some sort of important mission (all of which seem rather suspect to me, requiring my intervention). Many different conversations are being carried on simultaneously, and there is usually louder -than- I- would- like teen music playing and the abrasive sounds of disagreements occurring somewhere in the house. All the while I am trying to stay on task to accomplish my to-do list for the day. My job is very important and if it doesn’t get done, my children remain hungry, dirty, and uneducated. Yet, I am always aware of my greatest responsibility to love and love and love some more.

All of this occurring at one time can jumble my thoughts quite a bit. One morning I entered the kitchen to a cacophony of noise, many idle teens and preteens debating some” important” topic, and no breakfast being made. Earlier I had asked Cadin to bring the oats up from the basement so Areli could make oatmeal. This had not yet happened. This distressed me quite a bit as I was going through the homeschool schedule in my mind while worrying about my children being too hungry to do any school that day.

Obviously irritated, I said to Cadin, “I told you to go down there and get the ice cream!”

All conversation stopped. All eyes turned towards me. Cadin’s mouth opened but he said nothing. Shock and amazement crossed his face and I could read his thoughts.

“Has mom lost it? She wants us to eat ice cream for breakfast? She hardly even lets us eat dessert on the weekend. What is she talking about?”

When I realized that I had inadvertently said “ice cream” instead of “oats.” I began to laugh and laugh and laugh. Mommy brain!

Just a few weeks ago it was another crazy morning. It was late and Courage was still in his pajamas. I finally changed his diaper and took off his fuzzy sleeper. Yet I didn’t want him running around the house without any pants in the middle of winter. So I asked Cadin to put some pants on him.

I sat down on the couch to read to Ashlyn. After what had seemed to be a very long time, Cadin returned holding a little pair of pants in his hands. He held them out to me.

I said to him,”Cadin what have you been doing? And where is Courage? Why haven’t you put his pants on him yet?!”

Cadin gave me that shell shocked look again and said nothing. Then I realized what the problem was. I was holding Courage on my lap and he had been perched there the entire time!

I couldn’t contain my laughter at such a ridiculous scene! The laughter broke the tension and cleared the air…and confirmed to all of my children that I had truly lost my mind! But we were all having fun and that is what matters, right?

I am thankful for these humorous brain lapses. They remind me that often times mommies are very silly and irritable for no good reason. Bless all the sweet little angels who have to put up with those mommies day in and day out! And thank God for the laughter that brings back the joy!

Why am I so Huge?

January 19, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 9 Comments

my belly at 37 weeks with baby #8

I have always been small, short, petite, slim, and downright skinny. In my teenage years, in our society, being thin was a great asset. I received compliments on my very tiny waist and other girls tried hard to be small like me. But the truth was I did absolutely nothing to be so small. I ate whatever I wanted, ate A LOT of whatever I wanted and never really exercised. In fact, I felt too skinny…almost bony at times. I admired and still do admire women who have a bit more padding, who have womanly curves and an hour glass figure. Yet I knew that for me, that was not a possibility. Every part of me was small, and so at least I matched. Being tiny became part of who I was, my identity. I was the cute little one.

That was…until I started having babies. I was a normal size during my first pregnancy and returned to my tiny self in no time! I got a bit bigger with my second baby. I remember being out on a date with my husband. We were walking on a street in Denver trying to make it to the Cheesecake Factory. Rather, I was trying to make it to the Cheesecake factory. It was blocks and blocks away, and I was huffing and puffing under the weight of my baby. Some woman sitting on a bench called out, “Look, she is having twins!” I sure didn’t appreciate that comment, but I did give birth just two days after that, so I guess it makes sense that I was looking pretty round!

Each pregnancy seemed to stretch me a bit further than the previous one. I started growing out of the small maternity clothes and graduated to the medium ones. The comments about my hugeness became more and more frequent. I would try to stay in the house and not reveal my protruding belly whenever possible.

I was pregnant with baby number eight when two other ladies at church were pregnant too, with almost the same due date as me. Yet their bellies were so small and adorable. I was no longer the cute, little one. I was the gigantic, awkward one who would inspire wide eyed stares from younger women. I could almost read their thoughts, “Is that what I am going to look like when I am pregnant!!!!”

I purposely avoided the two cute, little pregnant ladies whenever I went to church. I was afraid of the comments and how massive I would look standing next to them.

“They are so much more beautiful and graceful than I am!” I would think to myself in self -pity.

Now I am on to pregnancy number nine. I was bigger than ever right from the start! This time even the midwife thought that I must be further along than I had thought, or I was having twins. An ultra sound at 10 weeks revealed one totally normal and healthy baby, right on schedule. The nice lady preforming the ultrasound commented on how easy it was to see my baby.

“Some babies are tucked way down into the pelvis, but yours is right out there!”

Yeah, right out there for the whole world and every ultrasound tech to see! Chris is used to my complaining about how big and fat I feel. Yet he put it all into perspective for me.

“You have easy pregnancies, easy deliveries, and healthy babies. Some women would do anything to be able to get pregnant and you are complaining about being too big?”

He was so right! What did I have to complain about? I have never had any problems or complications or risk factors associated with my pregnancies. I have had beautiful, natural births. My babies have all been born early at wonderfully normal birth weights. They all have taken to nursing right away. Most of them have slept great and have been very happy. I have a grace for pregnancy and childbirth. So what that I am so big! That is only temporary and doesn’t change who I am.

So I am pregnant and huge and guess what? Those two lovely ladies are pregnant again right along with me! They are tiny and cute, but I have actually sought them out to spend more time with them. I have been so blessed and encouraged by their conversation and company and realized what I missed when I was being overly self- conscience. I am now six months along, fully filling out the medium maternity clothes that took me to nine months in previous pregnancies. Looks like I need to get LARGE now. Even my husband, who instructs others that you should NEVER comment on the size of a pregnant woman, told me that he couldn’t imagine how I could get any bigger! Oh well. It is worth it to bring my precious baby girl into the world! And I will be back to my normal, little, cute self someday…eventually, hopefully…I think probably, almost definitely I will.

If you and I run into each other (you will be running, I will be waddling) before this baby is born, feel free to tell me that I am glowing or lovely or graced for pregnancy. No need to use these statements:

“Wow, you are big!”

“Are you sure there is only one in there?”

“Gosh, that is going to be a big baby!”

“So, you are due any day now, right?”

Believe me; I don’t need you to point out my mind blowing size. I live with myself every day. I carry around this very obvious belly and feel my clothes getting tighter and experience the increasing back pain.

If you just can’t help yourself and you have to say something about how huge I am, I might just haul off and punch you in the face. I would only do it in my mind though. To your face I would smile and nod. Even though I am very big right now, I am still the same sweet, gracious person I have always been…except perhaps a bit more irritable. Chris would say that I am a lot more irritable…so be careful…just warning you.

My Daughter is My Hero

January 13, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

Areli Endura, my firstborn and my oldest daughter, how can I begin to describe her? I heard both of her unusual names in Belize when I was there on a mission trip. I thought they were the most beautiful girl names I had ever heard, and filed them in my brain under, “What to call my firstborn daughter.” Well, a girl has never been more appropriately named. Areli is Hebrew and means, “Heroic.” Endura means endurance. My daughter displays her heroism with an amazing endurance that allows her to continue being my hero day in and day out.

Areli was the sweetest baby. I didn’t know a thing about being a mom, but Areli made it a breeze. She was almost always happy, and slept through the night at six weeks. She did give us a scare when she stopped gaining weight from 2 months until 4 months of age. In my inexperience, I didn’t realize that a two month old should not be sleeping 12 continuous hours at night without a feeding. As soon as I started to wake her up to nurse her more often, she started gaining weight again.

As a baby, she would wake up during the night very infrequently. When she did, she would cry quietly and the go back to sleep. One night she let out a cry and then went back to sleep as usual. Normally I wouldn’t check on her but would just go back to sleep myself. This night something compelled me to walk into the hall and I smelled that something wasn’t right. When I entered her room I realized what had happened. She had gotten sick all over her crib sheets and let out a cry. Then she simply settled down in a dry corner of her bed and went back to sleep! How thankful I was that I could clean her up and put my uncomplaining baby back to sleep on fresh sheets!

When my second baby was born, he seemed to be the opposite of Areli, waking up constantly and crying with loud persistent wails. Areli was only 18 months old and still slept in her crib. She would sleep in each morning and then play happily by herself until I could drag myself out of bed in the morning, sometimes as late as 10am! Her sweet personality persisted as she grew, always wanting to please, always being kind to others.

One morning when she was 5 years old, she came downstairs clutching her belly. She simply went and lay down on the couch and moaned in pain. I hardly ever have to take my children to the doctor, but I knew something was wrong. She never acted this way! I immediately took her and the three younger children to an urgent care clinic. They in turn immediately sent us to the emergency room, convinced that she was suffering from an appendicitis. Areli endured the pain through waiting and lots of tests.

The day had turned into night, Chris was flying home from a job in New York, and nothing had been done to help Areli. Areli was in the greatest pain of her life, yet she was still quiet and uncomplaining. All the nurses adored her and would bring her anything they could find to cheer her up; puzzles, a special quilt, and a stuffed animal. When a nurse gave Areli a very strong pain medication, Areli got her first relief of the day. She also became quite loopy. She turned to the nurse and said in a goofy voice, “I love you!” It was obvious to me that the feeling was mutual.

Unbelievably, they sent her home! The next day brought the same intense pain. I had to take all of my children (four, five and under) to a follow-up appointment. All Areli could do was sit in the stroller and moan every time I hit a bump. Finally we saw the doctor and he said, “We had better operate.” This is another story of God’s faithfulness that maybe I will tell at another time. Through it all, Areli was a gem!

As Areli got older she continued to show this ability to remain steady and calm during sickness, pain, and 6 extremely annoying younger brothers. She was always quick to forgive and the first one to offer to help.

The most amazing thing was the stories that I heard after the fact, told to me by her brothers, about how Areli had saved their lives! The first incident happened when Areli was around 8 years of age. She and Cole and Cadin were invited to a friend’s birthday party at an indoor pool. I was very nervous to allow them to go without me or Chris attending, since none of them had officially learned how to swim. Chris insisted that they would be fine, and that his friend Paul would watch over them. When they returned from the party, Cadin relayed this terrifying story to me. Maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal, but my mother’s heart began to tremble! Cadin had torn out of the dressing room long before Paul was ready. He ran directly to the deeper end of the pool and jumped right in. It was at that point that Cadin realized that he couldn’t swim, nor could he touch the sides or bottom of the pool. He started to struggle and sink under the water. Areli was the first one there to save him. She jumped in despite the fact that she couldn’t swim either. She held on to the side to the pool with one arm and grabbed Cadin with the other, pulling him to the wall as much a she could. The grandmother of the birthday boy noticed what was going on. She reached down and pulled Cadin to safety.

Talking about this amazing example of heroics a few months ago, Cole piped up.

“Oh yeah, Areli saved my life too!” It turns out that when we were camping in 2011, we were all enjoying the pool. Cole had worn himself out but still decided to jump into the deep end. Again, he was not a strong swimmer. He found himself too weak to swim and too weak to call out for help. Areli was the first one to realized that Cole was sinking, and she threw him a life-preserver. This hero just saved brother number two!

Three months ago I was getting ready in the upstairs bathroom as the other children were playing downstairs. Chai came upstairs to tell me about an event that had just taken place in my own home while I was completely unaware. My insides started to tremble again!

Chai had put a small Lego in his mouth. Why do boys do things like that? He is 9 and knows better! He accidentally swallowed it, but it got stuck on the way down. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t call out, and he couldn’t make a sound! Cole noticed his distress and brought him to Areli. She thought fast and realized that she probably didn’t have time to bring him to me. So she performed the Heimlich maneuver on him herself, sending that Lego flying!

As a mother, I am always thinking about my children’s safety, always making and enforcing rules to keep them safe, always training them to be safe, always checking on them. Yet I know that it is impossible to watch even one child every moment of everyday. I am not in control of every action and reaction. Yet I know that God IS in control! I am almost constantly praying for them, placing them into God’s hands and asking Him to keep his angels right next to them to deliver them from danger. Well, at least three times that angel has been my daughter, Areli!

I cannot even describe my deep, deep gratitude and relief!

Areli does something that is perhaps even more heroic every day. She has the endurance to help around the house, love her annoying…er, I mean precious and adorable siblings, excel in her school work and have a sweet disposition almost EVERY, SINGLE DAY! Now that I am pregnant, Areli does even more.

She shares a room with her special needs sister who is 11, but acts like a three-year old. Every morning Areli changes Ashlyn’s pull-up, gets her dressed, puts the special braces on her feet, and takes her potty.

Then Areli goes down to the kitchen and makes kefir, oatmeal, and a smoothie. She serves breakfast to her brothers and sister and then cleans up the very messy kitchen. She puts in a load of laundry and goes off to work on her cyber school for hours. At lunch, she helps to prepare the food, cleans the kitchen again, and does more laundry. Then she sits Ashlyn on the potty again, changes her, and puts her to bed for nap. During nap Areli works on more school and watches over the house while I take a rest. In the evening she cleans the kitchen for the third time and puts Ashlyn to bed for the night. In her free time I see her reading her Bible and taking notes. She loves God and it shows!

She babysits for me whenever I need to do an errand or whenever Chris and I get a date night. She has witnessed the birth of her four youngest brothers and has helped to care for them. One of the baby boys even slept in Areli’s room at night, and Areli would hold him and comfort him when he woke up. She tells me that she is so excited to have the new baby girl in her room. She loves babies.

She really does enjoy spending time with the family and being our family photographer. Practically every single photo on this blog was taken by Areli.

Some days she looks worn out. Some days she acts like if she doesn’t get away from the younger Brandenburg brood, she is going to explode! But most days she is joyful, helpful, and efficient. Chris and I love to reward her with special gifts, time out with friends, time doing Youth Group activities, and letting her relax in the evening later than any of the other children. I know that God desires to reward her even more!

Without Areli, I couldn’t handle all of my mothering duties. I wonder how I will ever make it when she grows up and moves out!

It seems to me that there could never be a young man worthy enough to deserve my Areli.

It is probably very unlikely that any young men will be reading my blog. But perhaps their mothers will be. So let me make my prayers for a son-in-law known. I have prayed that he would be twice the servant that my heroic daughter is. That he would excel at serving, having practiced all of his growing up years. That once he marries my daughter, he would make it his life’s goal to out serve her and never take advantage of her giving spirit. I pray that he would be passionate for God, out doing Areli in seeking after Him and obeying Him in everything. I pray that he would be a man who considers fatherhood his most lofty goal and children his most precious resource.

` All of my children are amazing and I could write an article like this about each one of them. (Maybe I will someday!) But today I am considering this beautiful young woman who truly is my hero and the joy of my heart!

Christmas and the Seasons of My Life

December 30, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 3 Comments

I love the Christmas season. I am sorry to see it end so quickly. As I enjoyed the sights and sounds and smells of this glorious time, I remembered all of the Christmases that I have known.

As a child, the magic of Christmas emerged from the basement and took residence in our home once again, as we hung our stockings, trimmed our tree and set up the manger scene. I would study the solemn cast of characters in the small wooden stable all covered with moss. I would lie under our artificial tree, looking up through the branches at the multicolored lights and soak in the wonder of it all. We would attend our Quaker Meeting’s yearly tradition; a potluck dinner (with an entire room full of desserts) followed by a carol sing and candlelight service.

I would sit on a bench in that meeting room surrounded by the scent of evergreen branches and the flickering, golden light. I would listen to the members of the congregation read the Christmas story from the Bible. The words sounded so beautiful and sacred to me.

I remember the Christmases of my teenage years. I had a small group of friends who were all very talented singers. I could sing a melody clear and true. My friends could harmonize any song in the most beautiful way. We began a tradition of gathering at my house and then venturing out into the cold to sing carols to my neighbors. The most beautiful music I have ever heard was made by our voices lifted into the frosty night air. I felt so blessed to be a part of that wonderful sound of praise. I have not been able to make such beautiful melodies matched with such lovely harmonies since that season, and I miss it, especially at Christmas. I console myself with the thought that someday heaven will be filled with music like that all the time!

I think back to our very first Christmas as a married couple. We were excited to have some family and friends over to our very first place for Christmas dinner. It was only a tiny apartment with no real furniture, but it was ours. We got a little tree and decorated it with the set of tiny, wooden ornaments that my grandmother had given us…our only ornaments!

Those precious little things have since gone into hiding, being choking hazards and not suitable for a house perpetually inhabited by at least one baby and one toddler. But that Christmas, there were no babies yet. I wanted to make some dessert for our dinner, yet I hadn’t planned ahead. I had only flour, sugar, and some Hershey Kisses. I made a trip to the closest gas station (the only place open on Christmas morning) and made some short bread. That evening, everyone piled into our small kitchen to eat around card tables, and it seemed a very joyous occasion.

I remember Christmases with little ones. It was hard to keep the ornaments on the tree, and the wrapping paper was much more appreciated than the gifts themselves. I remember the 7 Christmases that I was pregnant. I wasn’t feeling very good during most of those, and didn’t care if we even put up a tree. But I still enjoyed the joy and excitement in those little faces.

One of our children was conceived over the Christmas holiday. What a precious gift! The baby was a boy, and all our boys have names that begin with the letter “C.” Chris and I joked that we should name him, Colorado Christmas Conception. We decided to go with Chai Erik instead!

This year was a lovely Christmas. I was pregnant but feeling very good!

We had our 8^th annual Christmas party with a house full of friends and caroling around the neighbor hood.

Chai demonstrating the joy of caroling!

We attended the candlelight service at our church and felt that holiness again. On Christmas morning our house was full of two parents, one grandmother, teenagers, preteens, children, and a toddler.

We had a little of everything from toys to video games,

from big helpers to little messer-uppers.

A glorious chaos of noise and joy,

frustration and love!

I wanted to soak in every detail of the present Christmas, as I knew it would never come around again.

The teenagers will be thinking about college. The preteens will become teens. The younger ones will grow into more mature ones.

We will get older and wiser and never be quite the same people we are right now. Only God knows what each new Christmas will bring. My vision of Christmas future is a huge dining room table surrounded by my children, their spouses, and their children; my grandchildren! There could end up being quite a lot of them…perhaps 10, 20, 30, or more!

Looking back over all the Christmas seasons of my life there is a common thread. Always there is Jesus, lying in the manger; whether he is small or large,

made from wood or ceramic,

set up high on a self or cradled in the arms of a child.

Jesus is always there. Yet the baby Jesus is just a symbol…a symbol of God’s amazing, crazy, unfathomable love!

Jesus is a baby so longer. He grew and became a man. He pleased his Father in every way. He was obedient in everything, even obedient to die on a cross. He was revealed as the Lamb that was slain before the foundations of the world. He decided to die for us before any of us were even here. He set us free to enjoy all the wonderment and joy that the human heart can possess!

Yet looking back, I also see him as a Lion. The Lion of the Tribe of Judah, always at my side, whether I knew He was there or not. A strong and ferocious kind of God; violent in dealing with my enemies and fears and doubts, unrelenting in His jealousy for me, bold and courageous in the ways He loves me, yet soft and gentle when He draws me near. That Lion was always with me; during the innocent years of childlike faith when I would talk to Him every night before falling asleep. During the cynical early teenage years when I sat in that candlelight service and thought how foolish someone must be to believe that a baby born in Bethlehem was actually God. During my last years in High School, discovering the wonder of a real God who loved me just as I was. During my young married years when I didn’t know very much about anything. During all of the pregnancies and births and babies and toddlers and growing and learning and sorrows and joys. Jesus was there!

The Great I AM limited Himself to the smallness and helplessness of a baby just so He could always and forever BE WITH US! May we never get over the miracle of Christmas; that the Lion and the Lamb, the Almighty God IS WITH US! And we can spend eternity exploring the height and depth and breadth of His great love for us.

Merry Christmas!!!

The Very Poopy Christmas of 2008

December 16, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 1 Comment

I hope this story isn’t too personal or gross to qualify as a heartwarming Christmas tale, but this was all I had within me during the very poopy Christmas of 2008.

We had a beautiful Blue Spruce standing in our living room. The Christmas decorations had been brought up from the basement. The soothing voice of Bing Crosby was coming through the stereo. Ah, this is just like the Christmases from my sweet childhood memories. Well…not quite the same. There were six children instead of two scrambling to grab Christmas decorations. The older children seemed to clump all the decorations onto one section of the tree, while the younger children were intent on pulling them off as soon as they were put on.

I was not feeling as excited this year about decorating as in my youth. Yes, the exhaustion and nausea of my first trimester was definitely putting a damper on my Christmas spirit. I realized that the tree was being trimmed rather haphazardly, and it was leaning slightly to the left. Yet I had no energy to fix it.

“Oh well,” I thought, “It will just have to lean this year.” Truly my deepest heart’s desire was to crawl into bed and sleep until New Years. There was also a strange smell drifting through the house that was never present in my childhood memories.

Clang! Bang! Loud noises were emanating from the downstairs bathroom. Chris was entirely missing the tree trimming this year because of a project in the bathroom. Earlier in the week our toilet began backing up. After it got clogged for the 7^th time, our oldest boy Cole spoke up.

“Oh yeah, I remember that I saw Cooper drop a toy in the toilet and then he flushed!” he offered. I suspected that the toilet clogger was really Cole himself…yet Cooper does have an unusual fascination with the potty. Chris was in the bathroom having to rip the entire toilet off of the floor.

“I found the toy but I can’t get it out!” yelled Chris in frustration.

“Try putting oil on it!” I suggested.

“There’s enough poop on it!” He yelled back.

“I don’t think poop is very lubricating.” I said.

“I AM THE EXPERT ON POOP AROUND HERE!” he bellowed.

Considering the smell and the amount of time Chris had been working, I believed him!

Our tree eventually got trimmed.

The bathroom got put back together. Yet I prayed “God, there has to be more to the Brandenburg Christmas this year, more than nausea and broken toilets.”

Then I thought of Mary having to birth her first baby alone, in a stable. It probably didn’t smell too good either. Yet she had angels come sing praises to her baby. And of course there were the shepherds and wise men who came to confirm what she knew in her heart; that her baby was a King. Those visitations must have helped her through some difficult days ahead.

In these difficult days it is hard to see the purpose in our crazy, exhausting lives. I had no angels singing when my children were born. Yet I had something even better – The Word of the Lord! I heard God saying at the birth of each of my children, “This is a chosen one. I knew this one before I made the world and he has a destiny. She will conquer mountains and do great exploits for me!”

When I see the mess that my house is right now and the mess that my children make, I keep my eyes on eternity. I can see each child standing before the throne of God. I see Jesus embracing each one and calling him or her his friend. I see their reward for the spoils they took from the enemy. I know that their reward is my legacy. And here is the key to my hope. I know that all this is true; not because I am a good mother but because GOD SAID it was true.

So I thank God for this holiday season with all of its promise. Promise that is symbolized by a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a stinky manger!

Broken is the New “Just Right”

December 10, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 5 Comments

Sure, I am a mother of many boys with aggression and hyperactivity all around me all of the time. But I am still a girl who likes pretty things, who wants to make her home a peaceful oasis. My efforts are continually being thwarted by those unruly boys. My lovely house plant becomes inhabited by plastic frogs. My beautiful framed art is accessorized with suction cup Nerf bullets. My delicate blue and white china collection is transformed into a war zone for Star Wars Lego Storm Troopers.
I had just finished decorating for Christmas when I noticed this sorry fellow in the photograph, still bravely manning his post despite the fact that he had both of his arms ripped off.

He seems to be telling me, “Yes, I know that I am not as you were hoping me to be, and you would like to remove me from your shelf and toss me into the trash. But wait…God uses the imperfect and impossible all the time. I may be just the finishing touch that you need.”

So there you have it. Broken is the new “just right,” and God can use all of us! I am so thankful so that He can use me even though I am broken…maybe because I am broken. And I am thankful for a house full of boys who break things…and sometimes make them better.

God is a Strange Kind of Blesser

December 2, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 1 Comment

I have a good man. One of the best! We have gone through our share of trials together, and I have watched him weather storm after storm. I have seen him carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. I have witnessed him straining under the overwhelming burden of it, trying with all his strength to simply stay afloat.

We have had many struggles during our marriage. We have had times when we couldn’t pay our bills, we were getting calls from creditors threatening to take our home, and we were expecting that our vehicles would be repossessed. We have gone through many financial storms such as layoffs and economic downturns. We have followed trusted leaders into a treacherous sea of financial decisions and then have been abandoned, left to navigate to shore alone. We have made our share of bad decisions, landing us in overwhelming debt. We have also lived through the death of one dream after another, dreams that could have rescued us and put us on solid ground again.

One night a few years ago, we watched “Cinderella Man” together. It became one of my favorite movies because it depicted something we had been through. A young family with children to take care of. A man wanting to work so badly, but there was no work to be found. Things went from bad to worse in the middle of the Great Depression. Finally he got a break. His former boxing trainer had gotten him a fight! He would most certainly lose, but he would get paid. He jumped at the chance to provide for his family! The thought of being pummeled and hit until he was bloody was nothing to him. No suffering could compare to the thought of his children going without food. Miraculously, he won the fight and eventually was in line to fight for the heavyweight title. His opponent was a bear of a man who had killed someone in the ring with one knockout punch. When James J. Braddock was talking to the media about how he had become such an amazing boxer when previously he was only mediocre, this was his answer, “Now I know what I am fighting for…milk.”

At this point Chris made a comment that I will never forget. He said, “I would submit to a public beating if it would cancel all our debts.”

I almost wept right there! The heart of a man who stands up and fights for his family against seemingly unbeatable odds! Is there anything more courageous? Chris had no opportunity to get into the ring like Jimmy Braddock, but he did work two jobs for four years to get us out of debt. He worked hard, and he worked well. He was diligent and did everything with wisdom and integrity. In the midst of it, he realized that all of these jobs would drain him of his energy and time but never provide what we needed for our every growing family.

When Chris had the opportunity to buy a business, he jumped at it. He knew it would be a lot of work at first, but eventually he would be able to earn more as the owner and boss then he ever could as an employee. He leaped out of the boat and started to swim into uncharted waters with faith and excitement. It was true that we had failed many times before, but this time would be different!

It was about four months into owning the new business that we ran out of money. We knew that God had led us there, but we didn’t know how to move forward. I felt this amazing peace that everything would be just fine. I didn’t know how, but I knew that God did, so I could trust Him.

Chris, on the other hand, had to go into work each day and try to figure out how he was going to buy materials to make signs and how he was going to pay his employees to make the signs. On and on the troubles went day after day. The days turned into weeks, and no miraculous provision materialized. Things went from bad to worse.

I had seen Chris upset and discouraged before, but never like this. In his mind, he had failed. He had taken every resource we had and put it into this dream of a better life…and he had lost it all. The darkness surrounding him was so thick; I could hardly get through it. I could see that he was so tired of years of fighting and struggling, and his deepest heart’s desire was to just give up…on the business, on trying, on life. His father had left him before he was old enough to remember. Chris had vowed to himself that he would never leave his children fatherless. So he kept fighting although he had lost almost all hope. He kept going to work day after day, even though he felt it was useless.

He couldn’t see it, but I saw a miracle occurring. Instead of getting angry and trying to ease his pain with distractions, Chris became humble and quiet. He leaned into God. He went to church whenever he could, and I saw him worship God in the midst of his hopelessness!

One night we both went to church because they were offering personal prophecies. Boy, did we need a word from the Lord. Any type of encouragement would be a life-preserver! We sat down in the theater of our church and waited for one of the pastoral staff to come and pray for us. Anne Stock, a senior pastor, kneeled down to where we were sitting and began to pray. Her words were the very opposite of what Chris was expecting. He was feeling like the biggest loser and screw-up there ever was. Yet her prayer went something like this:

“God is enlarging you, showing you one more side. You are ready. He is showing you another dimension. Don’t be concerned. It is good. I pray for Grace to do this different and new thing. This is happening in your life right now is because He likes you! HE IS A STRANGE KIND OF BLESSER. You are going to make it through this fire not even smelling like smoke, because there is a 4^th man in the fire. The fire is only burning that which had you bound; only the things that kept you from being free. Your heart will come out unscathed. Strength!”

Chris was blown away. God actually liked him and was blessing him. Our struggles were not because he was destined to be a loser for the rest of his life. It was because God knew he was ready to face this new trial and be enlarged by it.

I watched Chris begin to trust God more like a good Father, the good father that he had never had. We looked on as God provided dramatic miracles to keep our business going, not just once, but twice! And we see God doing the small miracles, day by day as we go into our fourth year. We have lost the concern for our own lives. Whether we fail or succeed is not so important. Instead we are living to see the kingdom of God come to our little sphere of influence, however God wants to do it.

God is a strange kind of blesser! As I look back over my life, the worst of times have always been linked to the very best of times. When I was depressed or stressed or sick or so tired I couldn’t go on, that is when God met me and shook my world with His amazing words. Words that have healed me and shaped who I am. Words that I can offer to others to give them hope and meaning. God is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit (PS 34:18). What a blessing it is to have God so close! Anything that comes into your life, no matter how evil or heartbreaking, can be turned around for good. God can use absolutely anything to bless you!

If you look over the lives of famous history makers such a Joseph (in the Bible), Squanto, George Washington Carver, Corrie ten Boom, and even contemporaries such as Roland and Heidi Baker, you can see it! You can see the crushing trials and loss that God used to bring about great blessings, not just for them but for the entire world. If you are facing hard times, remember, your destiny is so great, so important, that God cannot leave you as you are. He knows that there is an amazing treasure inside of you. He knows that this trial will cause your roots to go deep down into His living waters.

He knows that you are in the process of growing so deep and so wide and so strong, that all the powers of hell and all the forces on earth couldn’t move you from God’s purposes. And in the midst of it all – His blessings overflow!

The More Children I have, the More Blessed I Become

November 23, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 4 Comments

Babies are a blessing! When they look up at you with the blue eyes they got from you and smile a dimply smile they got from their Dad, you think to yourself, “Surely there is nothing better in the entire universe than this precious little one!”

Yet babies can be a lot of work with all the crying, diapering, laundry, training, and worrying that is involved. And toddlers! Wow, the work just multiplies. A huge amount of energy is spent just keeping them from death and injury as they begin to explore their world with abandon.

Young children need to learn all sorts of things such as: the alphabet, addition facts, what president is on the penny, what a president is, how to be polite, how to get rid of the monsters in their closet, and how to wipe their little butts. This constant instruction can be frustrating and draining.

As they get older the training expands to chores, homework, and interpersonal relationships. It becomes apparent at this point that these children have developed personality traits that are nothing like yours, and you wonder how this could have happened! They have behavioral issues that you never expected and don’t quite know how to handle because frankly, you expected your children to be nearly perfect just like you.

Then you begin to relate to the parents who act as though their children are more of a burden than a blessing. They make jokes about how their children drive them crazy, and how they definitely don’t want ANY MORE of those little monsters!! They love them desperately…but they kind of dread the summer when they have to be with them day in and day out. You understand…because sometimes you feel that way too! Oh, for some alone time! Oh, for peace and quite! Oh, for some extra money to buy something for yourself!

The Bible says that children are a reward and a heritage from the Lord. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them! (Ps 127:3-5) God says that birth, pregnancy, and conception are our glory. (Hosea 9:11) Pregnancy, babies, fruitfulness, and many children were God’s blessing to his people when they were obedient to him. (Ex 23:26 and Lev 26:9) To have a lot of children in your family is a sign of God’s favor and blessing on your life.

Let me tell you all the ways I have become more and more blessed with each child.

It is true that children are a lot of work, but all the work has taught me about how to be more organized, more efficient, and more time effective. My time has become so precious to me, and I don’t spend it on any old thing. I use it as wisely as I know how. I have been so blessed by giving up stupid TV shows and filling my time with relationships, learning, reading, and drawing close to God. I am a better and more knowledgeable person for all the hard work I have done. Now I am able to train my children to be hard and efficient workers as well. Some of them even enjoy an organized home and a job well done! What a blessing!

It is true that children are so emotionally draining. All the crying that is not comforted by my best mothering efforts could lead me to depression. All the nightmares and fears I am called upon to calm, all the yelling and disagreements that I am required to negotiate, all the disobedience and disrespect I am expected to correct WITHOUT anger could drive me completely insane! Instead, it highlights my weaknesses and drives me right into the arms of God. I depend on Him for everything. I look to Him for every answer. I seek Him for everything my children need, because I know that I just don’t have it all within me. I go to Him every time I fail and trust that He will cause my children to be just fine despite the fact that their mother is grossly inadequate. I pray constantly and continually for their bodies, their souls, and their spirits. He amazes me with His promises for them, and overwhelms me with His love for them. Without all these children, I would never be so close to my heavenly Father who parents me perfectly. I am so blessed to have such a close relationship with God, and I am so blessed to feel His precious grace increase every time He gives me another baby.

It is true that children cost a lot of money. They are constantly growing and needing new everything! Yet for every child that God gives, he gives the money and resources to go along with that child. We have a big house because we have a lot of children. We did not get the big house first and then decide that we could have more children. We have resources constantly flowing to us because we had a lot of children. We didn’t wait for the resources and extra money in the bank before we decide to have more children.

I have bought very few children’s clothes in the past 16 years. Clothes just come to us through friends and relatives. Nice Clothes! Beautiful clothes! Barely or never worn clothes! I have bins and bins and bins of clothes in the attic just waiting for a child to grow out of their current wardrobe! We have had people give us a refrigerator and another person gave us a huge chest freezer for free! Then we have other friends who get us amazing prices on boxes and boxes of food to fill all of the refrigerators and freezers!

If one of our children needs something, we pray together for God to bring it to us…and He does. It is so fun to witness the unusual and unexpected ways that He does it. When the time comes for bigger needs such a cars and college educations, I know that the miracles will be there.

I have heard many amazing testimonies from missionaries who go out on the mission field with very little resources. They simply have a raw faith that they are doing God’s work and God will provide…and He does. God loves my children just as much as he loves the heathen people in the jungles of the Amazon. I can expect miracles in my own life just as the missionary does. What an exciting life I get to live, a life of faith and miracles! What a blessed life I have!

As I have more children, my workload actually lessens and my life becomes easier. Why? Children go from being liabilities to being assets. They can work! They can do chores and do laundry and cook and clean and take care of babies, and if you train them right, they can run the entire household without you even being there. Oh, the glory of seeing a clean kitchen and knowing that you didn’t have to wash a single dish! Oh, the wonder of a date night with your husband as the older children put the younger children to bed. Oh, the beauty of returning home from a lovely evening out to find peace and order without handing out money to a babysitter.

Being pregnant is so much easier with lots of children and teenagers around. I don’t have to hurt my back doing housework. I don’t have to bend down to get anything with all those eager, little hands. And everyone wants to hold the baby and learn how to change his diapers. Blessings abound!

What could be better than fun and adventurous family times? To experience new and different things together is awesome. To go on trips and vacations with so many playmates around is loads of fun. At home on a normal day, there is no lack of conversation! The cooing and babbling of the baby keeps us delighted. The hilarious comments of the younger children keep us laughing. The constant questions of the curious ones keep us alert. The unexpected and imaginative thoughts of all the children keep us in wonder and awe! The adult conversations with the teenagers keep us company and enrich our lives. The love exchanged between us all is what we live for. And what a lovely, blessed life it is!

I can only guess at all the blessings that will be mine when each child becomes a mature, responsible adult. How lovely it will be when I witness them becoming who God created them to be, when they are displaying their unique gifts and callings. And when they become parents with children of their own, all those grandchildren will be one adorable blessing after another!

I can only imagine what it will be like someday when I stand before God and He pulls back the veil. I will be able to see clearly the impact that my children had on the world and on eternity. What inconceivable blessings will be mine, forever and forever!

When people see me out with all of my children, they seem a little shocked that there are so many of them. When friends and strangers alike learn that I have eight children and one on the way, their reactions are all very similar. At first they seem very surprised and confused (Like they are asking themselves, “Do people really have 9 children these days?”) Then they give me a look that says, “You are absolutely crazy, you know that don’t you!” But they usually don’t make that comment out loud. What they do say, almost universally across the board is, “Wow, you have your hands full!” and “God bless you!” I have been blessed more times that I can count! Every time I meet someone new, they say to me,

“God bless you!”

I know that words have power. With words like those being spoken over me every time I go out, I feel like the most blessed woman in the world!