The Hambrick Family

Wait till there are no more diapers,

wait till we are settled,

wait till we have a fenced in yard.

I would have waited forever.

But then, you were ours.

All of your dogwood tree destroying puppy self,

bringing out the worst of us.

That's the short story version.

A best friend for Eli,

a playmate for Ezra,

a protector of these four walls and the family inside.

The boys insisted, "no family meeting can start" until you were there.

A greeter always,

player of hide the bone, hide the boy.

The neighborhood favorite,

accepting treats with discretion.

Ew, a milkbone.

Patiently preferring prime rib thrown down from Dave's deck.

Hunter of moles,

eater of trash,

digger of mulch,

chaser of trucks,

and a cat or vulture better never threaten to step foot or fly over your territory without the fronted fierce wrath of your bark.

Tireless greeter,

empathizer,

comforter,

gentle gentle lover of my boys,

bringing out the truth of their tender selves.

A sanctifying force,

making us all better,

bringing out the best of us.

Red

Aug 10, 2018 - Dec 24, 2025

The Winter Solstice was earlier this week: the darkest night of the entire year.

It feels significant, in this year of 2020, to acknowledge the dark, without comparison or minimizing.

List of things lost in 2020:

* Tony, Mary Jane, and Ms. Jean

* Scott's grandma, Tom's mom, Greg's mom

* a little niece or nephew

* 7 scheduled Nicarauga trips

* Income

* soccer seasons

* In person performance for Ella's acting class

* Seeing and giving smiles that can be seen in public

* Youth retreats

* Going to the movies

* The Homeplace Restaurant (and many others)

* Jennifer L and Jimmy C

* Hugs and handshakes and sending homemade meals

* The last and final whiffs of sweet boyhood from Eli and Ezra

* Seeing numerous friends from church...

* Birthday parties, holiday parties, graduation parties...

* Any perception of control

And yet, in darkness, good things are happening.

Like a seed planted, deep into the dark soil, growth...grows.

Our physical bodies, designed to spend hours each day asleep, in the dark, in order for restoration, healing, and growing to happen.

I'll acknowledge that growth...perhaps, tomorrow.

Today, I lament the loss. I bring all my grief and sadness and confusion to my Father, for he cares and sees and is so very with me. My lament is brought with belief, the truth that HE IS good and sovereign, the two guardrails that prevent my veering into whining.

The surprising thing about practicing the spiritual discipline of lamenting is that it makes room and clears space for healing. It acknowledges, at its core, that God is the only one who brings true comfort and peace.

When I lament with belief, opening up myself to Him fully and honestly, I clear the way for praise. Not because my circumstances are changed, but because the conditions within my own heart are changed.

How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?

How long will you hide your face from me?

How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart?

How long will my enemy triumph over me?

Look on me and answer, Lord my God.

Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death, and my enemy will say, "I have overcome him," and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

But I trust in your unfailing love;

my heart rejoices in your salvation.

I will sing the Lord's praise,

for he has been good to me.

Psalm 13

* In person co-op classes cancelled, but still working thru school (Zoom calls = ugh. Just ugh.)

* Zoe drawing animals all day long - piles of paper and eraser nubs everywhere

* Doing all the Christmas things // Moose on the Loose // Illuminights // baking // wrapping // visiting family // gingerbread houses

* Tommee Profitt's The Birth of a King album on repeat

* The constant thump of the basketball in the afternoons

* Slow, quiet, cozy mornings with the fire and coffee

* News filled with vaccine hopes

* Zoe watching // listening to Hamilton on repeat

* Ezra playing Java Minecraft on Dad's computer

* Dreaming about a finished basement

* Jeremiah researching/getting his mountain bike

* Ella reading in her room // going on walks with Natalea

* Still wearing masks everywhere

* The boys negotiating for a later bedtime

Our God is still in the miracle business, as Ezra has made it to his teenage years.

(Side note: I officially am a mom to three teenagers. How?)

He entered this world tiny and rocking the hairy wizened old man look.

I remember meeting his eyes the moment they placed him in my arms and being struck by how alert and aware he was. He was so wide eyed. And, oh, he has a dimple! I was so endeared by those wide blue eyes and dimple.

Little did I know how divinely placed that dimple was.

He was the happiest baby ever. He never (outwardly) expressed any separation anxiety. He lived to smile and wrestle with his Daddy and eat all the fruit and make car noises and take delight in learning early how to push his big sisters buttons.

And now he's 13.

He still loves to smile, but never for pictures without threatening from me. He still loves to wrestle with his Daddy, but actually gives him a run for his money. His sweet tooth remains strong. No more car noises, but he has strong car opinions. And he has developed mastery over learning how to push every siblings button.

I've made no secret about how the Lord has used Ezra to sanctify me. Nothing has humbled me more than my parenting journey with this boy. He reveals to me daily how little control I have over anything outside of myself, my reactions, and my choices.

And so, my endearment to him has moved beyond his dimple and wide blue eyes into a Holy acknowledgement of how needed he has been to my soul. The Holy Spirit has used him to reveal my pride and therefore allowed me the possibility to move to surrender...freedom.

My dear Ezra,

You will already hate this letter because I called you dear. But, you are dear to me and you'll just have to get over me saying it. You are entering the teenage years and I am so stinkin excited for you. I catch glimpses of the incredible man that is coming...I saw it in the dedication and hard work you exerted this Summer as you mowed lawns with your brother. I see it in the passion and motivation you display when you fully immerse yourself into mountain biking or learning a new piano or violin composition. I see it in the serious way you have taken to your service on the Kidsrock team at church. You are funny - keep working on the timing thing. When you figure it out, and you will, it will serve you and those around you well. My prayer for you this year is for a soft and teachable heart. I love you and like you.

always,

your Mom

p.s. Stop getting so huge.