The Bigs - One of Life's Unexpected Surprises

Our family: Grant, Josh, Todd, Jodi, Curt, Sarai and Katie.
Front row: Alli, Paige and Sarah A.

Never in a million years would I have thought that I would celebrate Mothers Day 2013 with hand-made gifts and cards from four biological children AND four non-biologoical children in their mid-twenties!  But this is the story God is writing.

You all know that Curt and I have four biological kids: Grant (12 years), Katie (10.5 years), Alli (9 years) and Paige (7 years).  They are the joy of our lives.  When we moved to Newberg in June 2008, we began the process of faux adopting other people's kids - the mostly-grown kind who attend college in Newberg and long for a family.  

Some of The Bigs have never experienced "family" before.  Others come from amazing families that they miss greatly.  Regardless of their background, our Big Kids thrive on being in an actual home with parents, kids, and a dog.  At first The Bigs are polite and reserved.  But the more they come around, the more familiar and comfortable they get.  

The Bigs invite themselves over and show up for dinner.  They watch the Super Bowl, ring in the New Year, and run races in the dark while waiting for fireworks on the 4th of July.  The Bigs play baseball in the back yard, wrestle, and coach the Littles in soccer.  The Bigs fill the stands at softball games and water polo tournaments.  They babysit and help with carpool duty.  Sometimes they come over at bedtime just because the Littles like to be sung to and prayed with before they fall asleep.  One of them lived with us for a year-and-a-half and fielded constant "How do you fit into the equation?" questions.  

Our Big Kids share their dreams and their fears.  They bring their Boyfriends, Girlfriends, and Hopefuls over for us to meet and weigh in on.  The Bigs ask questions about marriage, Jesus and life.  They have Refrigerator Rights and Clean Up Duty.  

We've helped The Bigs with college enrollments, designed resume's and served as references for jobs and volunteer applications.  We've cried together, laughed together, and played some fierce games of Settlers together.  We've done some of their pre-marital counseling and Curt has had the privilege of officiating two of their weddings.

Some of The Bigs pass through briefly.  Others are here for the long haul.  They are all part of our family.

This year Josh, Todd, Sarah, and Sarai (our current set of Bigs) got together and coordinated a family photo shoot then framed the best images and gave them to me on Mothers' Day.  

Mother's Day Love from all my kiddos

Their gift was so representative of the lives we live together:  somewhat spontaneous, completely uncoordinated, authentic, slightly crazy, and loads of fun.  

the girls

the boys

jump for joy

Alli and the two Sarah's got dressed up, but Katie isn't wearing shoes.  Josh and Todd are rocking the Summer is Here Early look. Alli, Paige and Grant are chomping on candy and Grant's "outfit" is... well... a typical 6th grade boy outfit.  Did I mention he wore this to church?  I have the End-of-the-Day-Tired look and Curt has the Monster of all Beards growing on.  Yet these images are some of my all-time favorite.  They are to me, a beautiful reflection of the way Jesus loves and lived.

LOVE this one!

Jesus did life with his disciples.  He knew their weaknesses.  Their strengths.  Laughed at their jokes and probably got a little slap-happy on their many road trips.  He prayed with them.  Encouraged, mentored and served them.  Jesus equipped his followers for leadership.  He loved them.  

Jesus did life with his disciples - the good, the bad, the ugly, the messy, and the beautiful - and they changed in light of his love.

kissing is gross (according to the kids)

Our Bigs do life with us.  They join our family in the good, the bad, the ugly, the messy and the beautiful.  And they love us in spite of (or maybe because of) it.  We change in the light of their love.  

Such a blessing to have these kids in my life

THANK YOU Josh, Todd, Sarah, Sarai and all our other "kids" for making our lives so crazy, fun, and beautiful!  We love you.

Happy Birthday Grandpa! - Part Two of Grandpa George's Legacy

Today is my Grandpa's 88th birthday and the first one that we celebrate his memory instead of with him.  We miss you Grandpa.

It's hard to put into words what a unique and amazing man Grandpa was.  It's part of why I haven't written about his passing or my time in Minnesota.  How do you summarize a man who was loved by all and hated by none?  

But today, on his birthday, I wanted to honor his memory by introducing you to my Grandpa George.

Grandpa and Grandma a few days before Curt and I got married - December 1997

Uncle Jeff wrote Grandpa's obituary.  It was really touching and a great introduction to a man we all love deeply.

George T. Klippenes, age 87, of Brainerd, rejoined his parents February 17th, 2013.  

He was the son of Charles and Nancy (Spohn) Klippenes, born May 8, 1925.  George grew up on the family homestead east of Brainerd and graduated from Crosby-Ironton High in 1943.

George placed second in the Minnesota state agricultural test and was awarded a scholarship to the University in Minnesota.  Instead he felt the patriotic responsibility to serve his country and enlisted in the army where he became a paratrooper serving in Okinawa.

Upon discharge, he returned home to marry the love of his life, Bernice Tarbell.  On March 6, 1947, they became man and wife.

George moved his family north to the Iron Range where he was employed by Erie Mining Company as a locomotive engineer.  He also worked for the city of Hoyt Lakes as a Michigan front end operator and served the city as a volunteer fire fighter as well.

In 1964 George gave his life to Jesus and Christ became the cornerstone of his life.

Every man that ever met George wanted to spend time with him, every woman in his presence felt warmth and acceptance.

George loved the outdoors, whether fishing, hunting or trapping.  He continued to participate in farming on the family homestead his whole life.  George, actually means farmer, and that he was.  Always mindful and ever grateful for the hard work that his parents went through to homestead the property.  The deep love of his life was and is his bride, Bernice.

All men die, not all men live.  George lived very well in a humble unassuming manner.  Perhaps that is why he is loved by so many and will be missed by all.

He will be deeply missed by his wife of 67 years Bernice, children George, Donald, Jeff and Shirley (Klippenes) Boelter; 17 adored grandchildren and 22 adored great-grandchildren.

Most of my cousins have dark hair.  Having blonde hair made me unique and from my earliest memories Grandpa always called me Blondie.  Even as an adult when I'd call to say hi, Grandpa would greet me enthusiastically, "Well how's my Blondie?"

Grandpa carried this in his wallet for 35 years

Grandpa never left the house without a hat and had a hat for every occasion.  When I was a baby I would sit on his lap, take off his hat, and rub his bald head.  It became part of our tradition and continued all the way until I saw him last.  He was so good natured about it.  As much as I dread an open casket, I was grateful to get to rub Grandpa's head one last time.

Grandpa and I

Grandpa was lots of fun.  When I was in college and far from home, I came to see Grandma and Grandpa for Christmas break.  Grandpa and I, on a whim,  went to the mall and got our picture taken with Santa Claus.  I sat on one leg and Gramps sat on the other.  We giggled about it for years. 

I definitely gained the Freshman Fifteen - awful picture of me, but I love this memory!

Grandpa was full of wisdom but he didn't offer it up without some prodding.  He did a lot of listening and would only interject if asked.  I wish I would have talked less, asked more and listened more.  He was a wealth of information about farming, hunting, fishing, the weather, Jesus and life.  His favorite saying was, "Life is too short to make those that you love miserable," and he lived by this motto.

Grandpa and Grandma had such a sweet marriage.  They were happily married for sixty-seven years.  Grandpa loved and cherished his bride.  His love for Grandma and his willingness to brag about her to everyone was part of his DNA.  Grandma and Grandpa set a beautiful example of marriage and enduring love, weathered over time and life circumstances.

Grandpa grew up knowing about God, but he didn't start on the adventure of following Jesus until he was thirty-nine years old.  By all accounts Grandpa was a changed man after he gave his life to Jesus.  Grandpa read his Bible daily and in the later years was often caught napping in his recliner, Bible open on his lap.

Grandpa's Bible

Grandpa was hard-working.  He and Grandma had very little to begin with but they worked hard, used their resources wisely, and were able to provide for their family.  He was a soldier.  Farmer.  Miner for the Erie Mining Company locomotive engineer.  City of Hoyt Lakes Michigan front end operator.  Volunteer firefighter.  Hunter.  Fisherman.  Trapper.  Often times he worked several of these jobs at the same time.

Grandpa hunted up until the last handful of years

Grandpa was strong. So strong.  He'd shake your hand and practically crush your fingers.  He was a big man too.  Tall with muscles stretched taut across his body.  I always knew I was safe with Grandpa.  It was hard to watch Grandpa's strength wane in his later years.  But he didn't complain.  He adjusted to a new normal and always found things to be thankful for.  

Grandpa was brave.  He was terrified of heights, but served his country as a paratrooper in World War II because he earned an additional $5 for every jump.  He was also compassionate.  Grandpa was stationed as an army cook in Sendai, Japan, for fifteen months after the nuclear bomb. The Japanese were starving and Grandpa had first crack at the food.  Grandpa befriended the Japanese and gave them food as he was able.  When Grandpa left Japan, his new friends sent him away with a Samuri sword, two Japanese rifles, and an officers saber.  That's just how Grandpa was.  Everyone was drawn to him.  No one disliked him.

Grandpa in uniform

Letters Grandpa wrote home during World War II

Saying goodbye to Grandpa was really rough.  Grandma asked all the grandkids to write a letter to Grandpa and put it with him in his casket.  I told him how lost we felt without him.  How sorry I was for not doing/being more than I was with him.  I told him I loved him and that I'll always be his Blondie.  I told him how I love to rub his head and sit on his lap.  I told him how glad I am that he can see again and breathe without oxygen.  That his strength is returned.  I told him that my friends can't "wait to meet him."  I told him we'd take care of Grandma.  And that I love him.  I tucked my letter inside the chest pocket of his suit.  My cousin Becca put hers under his tie.  My big brother Shane put his memento right above my letter.  We all wanted to be close to Grandpa's heart.  Then we stood there and wept.  What else can you do when your hero leaves this earth and graduates to heaven?

Grandpa's funeral was a beautiful celebration of the life he lived so fully.  Each of his three sons shared their memories of Grandpa and how he had influenced their lives.  Grandpa's son-in-law sang a solo.  How he could beautifully sing even a note, let alone an entire song, through tears still amazes me.  

When the remembering was done, the military honors began.  Two young soldiers in full dress blues solemnly walked through the thick silence from the back of the church to where Grandpa's casket lay. They saluted Grandpa's coffin while Taps was played.  

Then methodically and carefully, they folded the flag that draped his coffin into the symbolic triangle.  

When they finished folding the flag, one soldier gave the flag to the other and  

saluted the flag.

Both soldiers walked to where my Grandma stood in the front row.  The one with the flag leaned forward, presented the flag to Grandma and said, "On behalf of the President of the United States and a grateful Nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one's honorable and faithful service." 

The military also gave Grandpa a gun salute and lined the sidewalk between the church and the hearse with soldiers standing at attention.  

We were wrecked emotionally by this moving tribute honoring Grandpa's service to the country that he loved so much.

Grandpa's grandsons served as the pall bearers.  When we got to the graveside, they each donned one of Grandpa's hat and carried his coffin to his final resting spot.  

my brother Shane is a Captain for Great Falls Fire Department.  He's wearing Grandpa's fireman's hat pin.

Uncle Jeff threw the first shovel of dirt and then we all took turns throwing in a shovelful of dirt, saying goodbye to a farmer who loved the earth.  

Me adding my shovelful of dirt

Slowly the crowd began to thin until it was just my Dad and his wife, my brother, cousin Becca, and me.  We just stood there looking at the freshly dug grave knowing there was nothing left to say or do, but refusing to leave.  It felt like if we stayed there long enough maybe we could turn back time.  Eventually we said goodbye and slowly walked away.

When we got back to the house, we celebrated the life Grandpa lived by telling stories about him.  We laughed and cried and remembered.  Shane put the flag at half-mast, even though I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to do that.  We needed each other.

We miss you Grandpa.  So much.  And we love you so much.  You were and will always be a great hero of our family of The Faith.  

Happy birthday.  See you soon!

Come With Me to a Quiet Place and Get Some Rest

It's no secret that I'm not good at resting.  My mind thinks best when my body is moving.  It's why some of my most intimate times of prayer and connecting with God typically come when I'm running.

I've spent the last two weeks in a walking cast for a probable stress fracture in my foot.  I'm supposed to be resting.  The problem?  I haven't practiced resting and I feel ill-equipped to do it well.

The weather in Newberg this past week has been incredible.  70 degrees and sunny with no rain on the horizon - very atypical for springtime in Oregon.  Every fiber in my being wants to be outside pounding the pavement and soaking in the springtime sunshine.  It's been challenging to keep my commitment to have an attitude of gratitude.

One particularly nice day last week, I brought a cup of coffee and my Bible into my backyard.  I intended to spend a lengthy time reading, studying, praying, and resting.  But I got distracted.  The grass needed to be mowed.  Weeds pulled.  Dog poop scooped.  The sun reflected on my dirty kitchen floor and I added "sweep and mop" to my mental To Do list.  It didn't take long for me to abandon my plan to "rest" in the backyard.

Connecting with Jesus needed to happen in a quiet, isolated space that didn't involve distractions. I got in the car and started driving into the mountains that hem in Newberg.  I stumbled upon a beautiful mountain meadow with views of snow capped mountain peaks on one side and views of the valley floor on the other.  It was perfect.

I spent the entire afternoon in that meadow.  I limped around shooting photos.  When my creativity waned, I parked myself on a blanket underneath a blossoming tree.  It was so peaceful and untouched from the busyness of life.  From my perch on my blanket, I practiced resting.

Things I typically miss because I move at lightening speed came into crisp focus.

Bees buzzed and swarmed the blossoms of the tree.

A hummingbird flew right past my feet and into the tree above me.   I watched, through the eye of my telephoto lens, as it rested on a tree branch and then began drinking from the blossoms.

even the hummingbirds rest

The sky became bluer as the afternoon grew longer.

The distractions of my day melted away and I found myself in the same place of mental clarity and openness that I feel when I'm running.  I opened my Bible and was finally able to concentrate on what I was reading in the gospel of Mark.

One of the stories I read in Mark six really impacted my day.  Jesus sent out his disciples to do ministry.  They "went out and preached that people should repent.  They drove out many demons and anointed many sick people with oil and healed them."  When they came back to report to Jesus how things had gone, they were exhausted and in need of rest.  But Jesus was surrounded by crowds and crowds of needy people.  Rest did not look plausible or even accessible any time soon.

Jesus is always full of surprises.  He doesn't tell his disciples to jump in and get to work.  Instead, Jesus wisely looks at his weary followers and says, "Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest."

my quiet place of rest

I sat in my meadow, took a deep cleansing breath, and let the reality of that truth wash over me.  Our lives our busy.  We serve our children, our husbands, our friends, our families, and our communities every day.  We do this in the midst of and in spite of our own neediness. Life can be exhausting.

In the middle of the chaos Jesus reaches his out his hand and says, "Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest."  From one who is learning the hard way, won't you take his hand and let him lead you to a place of rest?

Angels Rest Hike

Angels Rest nearing the viewpoint

Several weeks ago, my friend Kelly and I decided to clear our schedules and play while our kids were in school.  She's a city girl who knows how to shop and where to eat good food.  She takes me to really great restaurants, explains everything on the menu for me, and tells me what to order.  Kelly suggested a day in Portland: shopping and lunch.

I'm more of a country girl.  I love wide open spaces, exercise, and being outdoors.  I suggested hiking.  We opted to be a little crazy and go hiking, even though the weather looked really sketchy and unpredictable.

Kelly and I only had five hours total to get to our destination, hike, and get home.  The mouth of the Columbia River Gorge is about a forty-five minute drive from our house and almost every hike has some form of scenic overlook or lush waterfall.  Even when it's pouring, the forest is dense enough that you don't get totally drenched.

We dug out my hiking book 60 Hikes with 60 Miles - Portland by Paul Gerald and selected the Angels Rest-Devils Rest hike, an iconic hike that many Portlander makes.  Located at the mouth of the Columbia River Gorge it was the closest option in the Gorge and it boasted a "spectacular lookout point above the Columbia River."  It was rated Moderate in difficulty level due to "altitude gain and a little rock scrambling at the top."  The distance was perfect for what we needed - 4.6 miles round trip -  long enough to be worth the effort, but short enough that we could meander our way to the top and still get home in time to get our kids off the bus.

The night before we hiked I called Kelly and walked her through what to wear and what to pack.  We agreed that even if it was raining we would still go adventuring together.  Kelly showed up the next morning so covered in layers I wondered if she'd be able to move.  We giggled at how much fun we knew we were going to have and then piled into my car to head out.

We were so busy chatting it up on the way to our destination that we drove right past the VERY obvious parking lot for the trailhead.  Several miles down the road, we realized our error and turned around.  Eventually we got to the trailhead and started hiking.  Most of the trails in Oregon are uphill and/or at elevation with often uneven trail surfaces.  Even though I run frequently, I usually find myself huffing and puffing at the start of a hike until I find my rhythm.

Kelly and I found our cadence and took our time climbing the 2.3 miles uphill to the lookout.  We stopped for multiple pictures (and had some misadventures with the self timer) and laughed at how often the weather changed.  We started in sunshine and hiked into rain, sleet, and snow.  On the way down, we hiked back through all those weather systems.  We were adding and removing layers every few steps and having a blast doing it.

The trail was really rocky in the first half mile or so.  It actually hurt the bottom of our feet to walk on all the rocks.  But eventually it switched to a smoother surface that was easier on our feet.  The trail was definitely a steep climb.  However, I would argue that anyone - regardless of their fitness level - could make it to the top if they allowed themselves enough time to traverse it slowly.  The view from the top was stunning, even with the constantly shifting stormy weather.  I can see why so many Portlanders make this trek.  There were some pretty significant drop offs surrounding the viewpoint.  When we take the kids on this hike, we will definitely give them the "Obey or probable death" talk before we start.

Here are some pictures from our adventure.  Don't they make you want to grab your shoes and get hiking?

self-timer mishap

this little bridge was darling at near the start of the hike

halfway up.  There was a great view but without a tripod, I was at the mercy of a tree stump for the self-timer.

so scenic

I love my camera

Kelly was saying, "Watch out.  It's slippery" just as I slipped and fell right into her arms.  DUH!

HOLY SMOKES!  This is incredible!

I've lived in Oregon for five years now and I still can't believe I get to live in such an incredible place.

Kelly didn't like the sharp drop offs at the top and stuck more to this rocky area

this woman is such a blessing to me!

I can't finish this blog post without giving you the Story Portrait that I put on Instagram.  Here's the picture that I posted.

we ate our picnic lunch here - trying to shove food around our gloved (and frozen) fingers.

And here's the Story Portrait: This is Kelly McLearn.  I have had the privilege of journeying through life with her for almost five years.  She was one of my first friends when we moved to Oregon.  Neither of us knew how much we needed each other.  Kelly radiates Jesus.  She models to me what gentleness and gracious words look like on a day-in and day-out basis.  She loves fiercely and serves others with everything she has and then some.  She's also a really amazing cook.  I've learned boatloads from being in her kitchen.  Beautiful inside and out - this is my friend Kelly and I love her!

Thanks Kell for a wonderfully fun day.  And happy hiking to all my local friends!