Breakup

The Bering Sea is literally a stone’s throw from the apartment we’re renting. When we moved in the end of March the sea was frozen solid. Yes, salt water will freeze. At 28.4˚ F. 

But now that it’s mid-May the ice is breaking up in massive chunks. Late evenings find kids in tennis shoes and sweatshirts jumping from ice floe to ice floe, riding the flat bergs as they move up and down. Last night the Nome Police stopped to talk to our teens and warn them of the dangers of crushing ice and ask them to stay off the ocean. 

A few days ago the water was mostly flat, but as some ice is washed ashore (some pieces the size of a small car) and other pieces float out to sea, the tides are more visible and the waves are beginning to once again crash on the shore. In fact, I can hear the waves as I sit in my living room. 

This morning I stood mesmerized at the window watching a huge piece of ice, perfectly flat as the waves tumbled it about. First once side would rise into the air, then it would smack down as the wave washed over it. Up and down, ice chunk riding waves like a riderless surf board. 

I’ve felt like that chunk of ice for the last several weeks. Floating along, minding my own business, but getting hammered by waves. Feeling the icy cold water wash over my head when I wasn’t prepared. I’m not sure if I’ll float out to sea or if I’ll be washed ashore. Some kid might even stand on me. A sudden change in wind could alter my direction. 

But I’m not that sheet of foot-thick sea ice tossed around in an ocean of salt water. I’m me. I’m going to sit on the rocks or walk on the beach. I will listen to the waves, but they won’t pummel me. I will watch them, but they won’t drive me out to sea. 

Daniel and the four youngest jump ice floes several evenings ago. 

Instead I choose the room of grace. I’ll turn my back to the sea and its storminess. To its uncertainty. To its exhausting crashes. Today I desperately need the room of grace. I need its quiet. Its deep care for my soul. Its acceptance of my questions. 

The view from my deck just moments ago. Waves crashing. Ice moving. 

The room of grace just invites me to just be. Not do. Not perform. Not decide. Just be. It’s my safe place. And He is there. 

Does your soul feel pummeled? Are there more questions than answers about your future? Your kids? Your job? Or lack of a job? Run to the room of grace. Let your soul sigh. Grace is offered. Embrace it. 

Sequins sparkled. Rich fabrics fairly glowed. Palms outstretched showed henna patterns. Bare feet moved swiftly. Eyes darted from side to side. Necks followed eyes. And I knew the tiny, beautiful, dark-skinned girls were telling a story with their dance.

Last Saturday our family took a field trip day and attended Global Fest at HACC (Harrisburg Area Community College) for several hours of ethnic foods, handcrafts and native dances. (Oh dear. That just sounded like we ate for several hours. We didn’t. We watched people. A lot. And we did sample the Indian butter chicken, Chinese dumplings and sushi.)


It wasn’t only the Indian girls doing ethnic dances. There were Filipino children as well with long pieces of bamboo, some tapping the wood in time with the music and others jumping quickly to keep their feet from getting pinched between the sticks. Hispanic men and women played traditional instruments. There was much foot stomping and twirling and clapping when the Irish clog dancers were on stage. I think I even tapped my feet once or twice. Ok. I confess. I really didn’t hold still the whole time. They were amazing.

Nother’ confession: I love cultures. I don’t mind being in the midst of places I don’t fit. I love watching. I enjoy trying new foods. I love meeting people from other continents. I enjoy conversations about why they believe what they believe. I love learning about their traditions and why they do what they do.

Maybe it’s just a little, teeny taste of Heaven.

Maybe there will be Indian Christians there with traditional costumes and dances, retelling the story of Jesus. Maybe we will eat Indian butter chicken and Chinese dumplings and sushi. And apple pie.

And rejoice and celebrate together with people of every tongue and tribe and nation. . .

It ain't happnen

Yes, I know. The teacher in me is screaming, “You shouldn't say that!!!” But I just did. So there.

And it really isn’t happening. We’re not going to Mexico. In fact, last week was the week we “should” have been there. But knowing and understanding very well that our thoughts and plans and timing aren’t always God’s, we let it rest.

The needs at the orphanage changed from what we’d anticipated earlier on in the planning stages. And then the team we were working with slowly disintegrated. Not in a bad way. God just directed people to do different things.

And so we wait. But we’re not waiting and sitting on our hands. Passport forms for the entire family are filled out, pictures taken, waiting on my desk for a day to take them in (so someone can look at our kids and verify that indeed they are our children).

Getting passports for the kids is like preparing for rain. There are no trips planned. There clearly isn’t money to galavant off across the planet. No one has invited us to join them in what God is doing on the other side of the world. But it’s ok!

God knows where we live! And He is working right here. There are absolutely BEAUTIFUL things He is doing in our family. We are growing in grace and love and understanding. We are learning things about how He wants us to live.

In the last 5 years there have been several attempts to involve our family in overseas missions. Some we have pursued. Others have been invitations that have come to us. And every time, God closes the door. Every time.

I’ve asked “why” more times than I can count. I’ve looked for answers for why I even have the desire to go in the first place. What on earth is God up to?

God knows. We’re in a good place. We’re part of an incredible church! We have amazing friends! We’re dreaming about the places God wants to take us as a congregation of believers.

Thanks for being part of our circle of friends. Friends who ask what God is doing, who care about where we are, who are excited with us about our journey with Jesus.

And for now, overseas ain’t happnen.

Hobb(it)s bound for Mexico!

I'm re-posting a letter I recently shared on facebook (for those of you not part of the world of fb).

Friends and family,
We're excited! Jesus is inviting us to join Him in a ministry to orphans, as well as humanitarian outreach to squatters living near the orphanage. We'll also be doing some construction on a building on the orphanage grounds.

Daniel and I have been privileged to be involved in God's work around the world at various times in our lives, both as singles and as a couple. This however is the first time God has flung open the doors to our whole family. Being the third-culture-kid I am, I've longed for years to introduce our children to another culture (outside the various cultures we've enjoyed here in the U.S.). It seems that now is the time!

We'd love to invite you to join with us in prayer and financial needs as God prompts you. We have no doubt that what God orders, He also pays for.

Pray for God to bring together the entire team of people who need to be part of this endeavor.

Ask God to bring together the prayer support we'll need before, during and after the trip.

And if God asks you to give, well, give and rejoice! :o)

My passport needs to be renewed and the children all need passports. Tack that cost onto the cost of the trip itself and we're looking at $5150. If you want to give and need a tax deductible receipt you can make your check out to Palmyra United Zion Church.

Otherwise, you can send checks to Daniel Hobbs.

Checks can be mailed to Daniel and Carol Hobbs. (Call me if you need an address!)

We'll try to keep notes coming to let you know the status of the trip as God brings the team together.

Thanks for sharing in our joy!! Blessings, Carol-- for the rest of the Hobb(it)s

about brownies

It was a great weekend. We spent Saturday night at camp with friends from church. Saturday night supper was a healthful diet of fire roasted hot dogs on white buns with plenty of ketchup and mustard, potato chips, green pepper slices (I tried. Really, I did.), and the famous smores’. Oh, and pink lemonade to drink. Very healthful.

Then today our congregation gathered at camp for our morning worship service followed by a fantastic BBQ chicken dinner with yummy side dishes. Everyone brought desserts to share. Eldest daughter made brownies. Mmm. Again, very healthful. Butter and sugar are good for you, right? And vanilla? Eggs? Flour? Cocoa?

So today upon returning home I surveyed the remaining six brownies left in the pan. Yes, I’m with you. I’m surprised there were ANY left. But there were. Someone was thinking healthful thoughts and passed by the brownies. Those must have been the people who decided instead on apple pie or the lovely cherry cheesecake or the rice crispy squares surrounding the brownies.

What to do with the brownies? I had to find a home for them. Ah! There were some chocolate chip bars left from the other day! I’ll just add them to that container. I pop open the Tupperware and here is what I find:


Hmmm. Wonder who took the last one. Wonder who took the last one and didn’t bother to add the Tupperware to the stack of things-to-wash.

Seems that food just doesn’t hang around this house very long these days.

And here’s hoping that my great friend Jo, over at Jo’s Kitchen Table, has some really great hints on healthful eating. I’m counting on you girlfriend!!


Parting shots:

The boys LOVE to hang out with the cows. One day last week I looked out my kitchen window and saw eldest son lying there just looking at the cows. He said the pavement was warm (it was a chilly day).

p.s. post about girls coming soon!

about a walk in the dark

Sunday.

The child was sick. So I let him take his normal nap. But then he was up for a while and wanted to take another nap. So I let him take nap number 2. Hmmm. Bad choice.

So at 10pm this is the face I see:



Well, ok. Not this face exactly. This was his birthday face with ketchup on it.

Happy as a clam he was. Full of energy. Wrestling with Papa on our bed. Not tired in the least. This is the kid who is exhausted at 8:30 every night.

So Papa Hobb(it) gave said child the option of going to bed or going on a 1 mile walk with Papa and Mama Hobb(it)--- our sometimes nightly ritual after the small Hobb(it)s are in bed.

He chose the walk.

It was a dark walk. But there were stars to see. And a possum ambling along the soybean field going in the opposite direction we were going. And the sillouette of the trees making a dark shape against the sky that looked just like an alligator with it’s mouth wide open, showing rows of sharp teeth. At least it looked exactly that way to the 4 year old Hobb(it).

He was pretty sure he wanted to turn around. His legs were suddenly tired. But he made it the whole way to the end of the driveway (a whole 1/2 mile). Papa Hobb(it) had offered to carry him home, but he walked it all on his own two very tired 4 year old legs.

Will you believe me if I told you he went straight to bed with no complaints at 10:25?

I can’t wait to hear the stories he tells the other Hobb(it)s in the morning about his late night adventure with Papa and Mama. On a walk. In the dark. All about the possum. And the alligator in the trees. With rows of sharp teeth.

We made a memory. He’ll talk about it for a very long time.

I just hope there’s not a repeat performance tomorrow night.

Michigan

So, November seems a very long time ago. . . but here at last are some of my favorite pics from the 10 days we spent with dear friends in two different locations. We started out with Darwin and Joan near Remus for Revival services and ended the trip with Seth and Heidi in Fife Lake. And trust me, there were a whole lot of other friends in between!! It was so good to be a Michigander for a few days. . .

Tob and Tristen with Nick

Darwin and Joan (my very favorite picture of them!)

The weather was beautiful the first part of the week. I was really wishing I'd brought flip flops along for the kids it was so warm! The girls helped rake leaves one afternoon after school. 

Another fantastic day was a friend's birthday party! Most of the afternoon was spent outside playing in leaves and riding horses. Pure bliss for these small Hobb(it)s. 

Sophia, Mahlah (the birthday girl) and Emelyne

For some reason the llama really loved Daniel. . . 

That's my boys. ..

It was so good to see Erma. . .

and Robert and Mary.

Then on to Seth and Heidi's home-sweet-home. . . where babies can sit on countertops and taste the dough.

And where good buddies can enjoy the sheer wonderfulness of granola squares before bedtime.

Sweet friends, Seth and Heidi.

So there I shall end for now. I'll try to make sure it's not so long the next time. I've blogged so many times in my head. If only I could get all of them into the computer. . . 

Friends from long ago. . .

So, here I sit on this wet, snowy Sunday afternoon. God blessed our morning with His presence. Daniel has taken the kids on a hike behind our house. They needed some fresh air. My sister is on her way to our house. A blessed thought since I haven't seen her in nearly a year. And there is entirely too much to blog about. 

Friends from long ago stopped in to visit several weeks ago. It amazes me how easy it is to pick up where we left off about 12 years ago and chat on and on about our children, homeschooling, life, church, what God is teaching us and then still run out of time. Thanks Matthew and Rhonda for giving us a wee bit of your busy schedule. 

Seven lovely ladies. .. 

Rhonda hasn't aged a bit. Now me. . . That's a different story.

sweet friends

One of the quotes from the message this morning that bounced between my eyes was this:

"Don't tell God about your problems. Tell your problems about your God."

How easy it is to whine and complain to God about all the things that are going wrong. This week I'd rather tell my problems about the great big God I have. The God Who knows me and loves me. The God Who holds the earth in His Almighty hand. The God Who raises up one king and puts down another. The God Who is my shield and refuge and strong tower. The God Who is the King of all earthly kings and the Lord of all earthly lords. The God Who is preparing a place for me so that "where He is, there I may be also." Ah. I guess I can't put it into words today. . . 

Up next: a report on our recent trip to Michigan for a week of revival at Pine Grove Tabernacle and our good friends Darwin and Joan. Daniel preached incredible messages and we had the delightful privilege of singing together as a family every night! More later. . . 

the mimic

We're at that stage in childhood when one of the most annoying things you can do to a sibling is to mimic every move they make. 

So tonight at the supper table the 10 year old big sister is mimicing the 5 year old little brother.  I should have seen the danger signs based on the age difference, but I didn't see this one coming. 

He crosses his arms. She crosses hers. He moves his leg. She moves hers. And there it ended. 

She looked over as he moved his hand toward his face. She began to do the same. Then a look of total horror and astonishment came over her face as she watched little brother stick his finger in his nose to search for some unknown treasure. 

She couldn't bring herself to mimic that and burst into laughter. I guess she'd been bitten on this round of "mimic". It might be a while before she tries it again. 

Funny  children! I'm sure I never did anything like that, right Mom?? 

Back a few. . .

Months, that is. I couldn't blog about it then. In May and June. It was too close. Too painful. Too deep. Too misunderstood. Too heart wrenching. Too difficult. Too unexplainable. Too confusing. 

But here I am three months later. I've been deepened. Strengthened. Matured. Comforted. There are still many things I don't understand. But I realize I don't have to. Because my Father knows what He has planned for me and I am able to rest in that. 

In May, a few day's after Mother's Day, I found out I was pregnant. For some of you that may have been glorious news. For me it was not. You see, after five Hobb(it)s (the youngest being nearly 3) I was ready to move to the next phase of family life. And there are things we believe God is asking us to do and be part of that cause our hearts to want to be past the infant stage. . .  for mobility's sake. And here I am. Pregnant again. 

There were many tears. Many questions. My heart wanted so badly to accept whatever gift God wanted to send to me. I struggled. I wrestled. My heart begged God to fill me with love. 

I started shopping for maternity clothes hoping I'd get "in the mood". Hoping my heart would find excitement. Hoping I could somehow make myself get ready. It didn't work. 

I ended up at the thrift store with a whole cart full of adorable maternity clothes. But I couldn't bring myself to buy them. Inside my heart screamed, "Why?" It's just not me. When I discover bargains I don't just leave them there. Not this time. I walked away with nothing. 

There were those who listened and loved me.  They let me cry and told me that everything would be ok. They prayed and did battle on my behalf when my spirit was so distraught I could scarcely breathe. 

There were those who misunderstood. They thought I should just get over it. They judged my soul's agony. They offered no comfort. 

Then, in June, two days after our 12th wedding anniversary, I miscarried.

Trying to describe my thoughts, feelings, emotions during that time is nearly impossible. I'd tried so hard to bring myself to acceptance and love and excitement about the pregnancy. And it never came. Was it God's Spirit trying to prepare me? 

I was so relieved to not be pregnant. But what about the guilt? 

We were on family vacation when we lost baby. We were surrounded by people who love us. They cried with us. They prayed for us. They joined us in mourning. We laid baby to rest in a memorial garden created in honor of Daniel's mother who is waiting in the heavenlies. It seemed a good place. 

Somewhere in eternity I shall meet a child whom I will never know here on earth. I feel poorer for not having known him/her. But someday. . . 

There has been a lot of pain. Turmoil. Mixed emotions. I don't know what this experience has to do with the Glory of God. But I know that God is more concerned about His Glory than about my present happiness. 

And so I rest in the fact that somehow this is not about me. God is full of Glory. He is trustworthy. He is the God of all comfort. He knows my frame. He understands that I am just dust. And yet He loves me. 

Three-year-old "isms"

Tristen is three. And three year olds say the funniest things. 

Here are several of my favorite quotes from the last week. . . 

"Mama, can we talk?" This was asked as we sat at the supper table surrounded by many other Hobb(it)s. As I'm sure you can imagine, mealtime with 5 children is not often quiet. I think that amidst the hubbub of conversation Tristen was wanting to make sure he didn't get left out of anything important that needed to be said. Or heard. 

The other "ism" was heard as we were discussing where Papa was (visiting someone from church) and when he would be home (in time for supper). Tristen was laying on the floor with his camouflage pillow and puppy blanket. "Mama, Papa's so wonderful!" Couldn't have said it better myself! :o) 

Another thing Tristen says rather often is "I'm thirsty for. . . " He hasn't learned the difference between hunger and thirst yet, so he's thirsty for M&Ms, thirsty for candy, thirsty of supper, thirsty for hot dogs, thirsty for yogurt (although when he says it, it sounds more like mogurt), and one time he even said he was thirsty for Walmart. Hmm. 

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for Righteousness, for they shall be filled." Jesus

The picture of Tristen was taken recently when we were in Ohio. Also in the picture is my cousin Seth Showalter. Tristen looks remarkably like Seth did when he was much younger. Seth, along with his parents and 3 brothers, leave next week for a two year assignment in North Africa. 

P.S. Daniel did some adjustments on Rosie's shifter and everything is back to normal. No more adventurous shifting. 

Among other things. . .

*sigh* I never intended it to be so long between blog posts. I love blogging. But alas, as I mentioned before, it is summer. And I don't remember a summer quite as "traveled" as this one. Although I guess last summer had it's own unique set of circumstances. Moving a family of 7 who've lived in the same house for 5 years and accumulated lots of "stuff". So, maybe this summer isn't quite so crazy after all. . . 

So far this summer we've enjoyed 

• a trip to D.C., 
• a week of Hobbs family vacation (Daniel's dad, grandmother, sister, brother, sister-in-law, four cousins ages 5 and under. . . plus our family* * * what a wonderful time!!), 
• a 50th wedding anniversary celebration,
• then the Yellow Bus Adventure (see previous post),
  
• a week at home to recover from the comings and goings and celebrate Tobin's birthday
• a week at Beulah Camp in Gordon, Pa. Daniel, Nathan, Esther, Carlee and I did all the music for camp this year, and Dr. Allen Brown was our evangelist. 
• a trip to Ohio for Choral Camp at RBC. Emmy and Sophia LOVED Choral Camp! And since RBC is located only minutes from my parents home, we loved the week with Grandpa and Nana. We've spent some time nearly every day in their pond. I must say that the Hobbits are becoming quite the little fish. Very brown little fish. 

*sigh* So here I am in Ohio. I drove our Suburban from PA to OH last Sunday with 7 children (I brought along 2 girls from Belleville who needed a ride to Choral Camp). 

It's been a whole week without my husband. And I'm over it. These times give me a whole new appreciation for parents who "go it alone" all the time. I'm the one who is responsible for everything. Everything from Scripture reading and prayer in the morning, to tucking in and prayers at night. Keeping track of swimmers in the pond, and little children who forget to close doors and let all the air conditioning outside. Children who struggle with bad attitudes just because the summer has been so much time away from home. And Papa isn't here. 

And so we're staying on at Mom and Dad's house until our church conference begins on Thursday, July 24 in northern Ohio. With gas prices as they are it didn't make much sense to drive all the way home and then back again several days later. Besides, it give the children (and me!!) a chance to spend time with Grandparents. And Greatgrandparents. 

My dad's parents have been living with Mom and Dad for the last several years. With Grandpa and Grandma Showalter's declining health, Mom and Dad have entered the challenging phase of caregiving. They are doing a beautiful job of creating a peaceful, loving, stable environment in which the elders can grow old with dignity. 

This makes coming home to Grandpa and Nana's house an interesting phenomenon. We presently have in this home: 3 adults, 5 children ages three to nine, and 2 very elderly adults who require care. The combination has been very interesting. Hmm. Did I say that already?

Great grandma loves the activity and never wants to miss anything. She loves to listen in on stories that are read. She loves to sit by the patio doors at the back of the house and watch the activity in the pond. She wants to make sure she's not in anyones way. 

Great grandpa likes things quiet. He doesn't hear well and when his hearing aids are turned up he catches all kinds of little sounds the children make. I've had to tell Sophia not to whistle in the house. He is constantly watching the children and reminding them to close the doors, or not to throw balls in the house or something else he sees them doing that he thinks they shouldn't do. 

And so I have to be reminded not to take things personally. And remember that I'm living in a nursing home these weeks. I want the children to be sensitive to the elders, but it has been rather hard to make sure they're always quiet, or not running, or speaking in an inside voice. I know these are very special days with Grandparents who may not be around much longer. I must cherish them while I still have them.

Sorry there aren't any pics to accompany this rambling post. If you reach this point, I congratulate you. You must be one of my very faithful readers! Probably the rest gave up by the end of the first paragraph. 

There are deep thoughts rolling around in my head, but it's too early to blog about them. The last several weeks have been full of a lot of emotion regarding things happening at church and our involvement there. But that's a post for another time. . .

And so, that's my update for now. . . among other things. . .

I'm here! I'm here. I'm. here. I think I'm here. Am I here?

Yes, I really am still alive. But it's summer. And for us, summer means family vacations (sorry, no pics of that coming), and extra ministry trips, and many, many birthdays. 

The last month has held more quaking of the deep places of my heart than I'm ready to share at this point. But maybe soon. . .  For those closest to me, you already know. For those of you who live farther away and would like to know before I'm ready to blog, just send me an email.

Yup. It's me and my best friend. I love nothing more than to be involved in ministry with Daniel. And God opens windows for that along the way. Last week was one of those.

Daniel and I were privileged to be leaders for the Yellow Bus Adventure, a four day, three night "overnight vacation Bible school" held in Gordon, PA and sponsored in part by FHC Ministries, a group pastored by Daniel's dad, Michael Hobbs. Daniel and I led the music, but were also involved in a campfire story (Daniel told the story of Gideon's Pot-- as first recounted by our dear friend Larry Guthrie) and I did morning coach time (devotions) with all the girls. 

YBA is for kid's in grades 2 through 8, so you can imagine the noise, the smells, the attitudes, the enthusiasm, the needs, the attention spans. Need I say more? 

I love YBA. We had a big mix of kids from church and kids from "town". Kids who know all the Bible stories already, and kids who don't. Kids from homes with a mom and a dad. And kids who have no idea where their dad is. It was incredible to send kids home having memorized Scripture, watched the Scripture acted out in a very memorable way and having learned songs that speak the truth of God's word in a way they'll never forget. 

That's me on the left, then Julie Bradford and my sister (in-law) Esther. We were the paparazzi, each with our own SLR camera, shooting anyone close to us. 

Here's William Straight, director of YBA. We worked with an incredible team!! Wow. So much creativity packed into a short time. 

Team colors!! Staff had black shirts this year, the boys team was green, and blue, yellow and red were girl's teams. 

Ready for YBA: duffle bag, sun visor, flashlight and Bible. 

Josh and Will: our faithful computer geeks. :o) Will has a gift for mentoring the young men around him. Josh is one of those. 

Putting motions to songs brings so much joy to the kids, and helps them to remember the songs. One hymn we did was written by Keith Getty: "Hear the call of the Kingdom". Hopefully it will be posted on youtube soon and I can share it. It was incredible!! 50 children singing "Hear the call of the Kingdom, lift your eyes to the King." And then the chorus: "King of Heaven, we will answer the call! We will follow, bringing hope to the world. Filled with passion, filled with power to proclaim salvation in Jesus name." There were times I could hardly sing, it was so overwhelming. 

chow time!!

adventure time!

Afternoon sports time on a soccer field close by. Tristen and I were waiting for the kids to arrive and Daniel grabbed the camera. :o)

Jake: all ready to run the 100 yard dash!!

The girls with some of their "bestest" friends.

Yes. That's me. The kids love to have adults join in the fun, so I was talked into the long jump. Imagine. No. Don't. 

At YBA we use a point system for everything from Scripture memory to good attitudes and our girls were on the winning red team!! 

Saying goodbye was NOT fun. 

Now, on to our first summertime birthday: Tobin turned 5 on June 23. We celebrated with a family from church whose son turned 14 the same day. With a river close by, what better way to celebrate than with a fire, hotdogs, mountain pies, marshmallows, cake and several hours in the river. Most of the time in the river was spent with snorkel masks on looking for "treasures". You know, things like broken dishes, old tire rims, large pieces of discarded, waterlogged rugs, snail shells, broken clocks. 

Tobin, Tyler and Tristen

And lastly, Grandma Showalter has been a caretaker of roses for as long as I can remember. In March she sent me a rosebush from Jackson and Perkins. It's a hybrid tea rose and has bloomed for the first time. I only wish I could include the smell. It's heavenly. 

That's all for now. There is so much more in my heart to write, but I haven't the time. Maybe soon.