Memory Lane

 Every Monday evening we pause for Family Home Evening.  This has been our pattern from the beginning, and it will never end. Even if my children are scattered around the world, they will know what time it is at home.  Evening hours are family hours.  Family hours are a time to understand the proper order of priorities.  Priorties include the two great commandments: Love God.  Love Others.  In that order. If that order becomes reversed, then life is out of order.  May my home be a house filled with the proper order of priorties is my constant plea. 

Ryan and I recorded a little ditty.

Chopsticks

Molly often sleeps in her own bed, but never alone.  She brought in 25+ animal friends -- each one was tucked in and cuddled.

"Lilas are forever -- not just for Wednesdays," (please sing that line to the Sia Christmas tune, "Puppies are forever -- not just for Christmas.)

The rest of the week I went on a grand adventure.  I flew to Cleveland.  It has been 18 years since Austin graduated from Case, and 18 years since I have been back.  

My first stop was visiting the Lybbert family.  I hadn't seen these cute nephews and sweet niece for NINE years.  These beautiful children were clever, kind, thoughtful, polite and very dedicated to their specific interests.  Char and Parker's home was filled with order, beauty and exactness.  Our two hours together flew by, but I shed very many tears over the love I have for this darling family that lives far away.  They are happy.  They are progressing.  They are winning.  (Char stopped her entire world to make my visit happen.  Bless her.)

I stayed with the Huang family -- we lived in the same apartment building those many years ago.  Molly took me on a tour of all our old haunts, and I could almost see in my mind's eye a little girl with three small baby-children climbing three flights of stairs almost everyday.  I saw that same young mother putting all her faith in a very dedicated and busy husband, trusting that her loving God would fill in all her gaps of immaturity, poverty, and selfishness.  18 years later, I conclude that that same little girl is still little, but older and wisened -- hopefully.  Mostly, I pray that my priorities are now more honed than ever, and although my gaps look different and the same, I still need a my Redeemer.  How blessed I am that my relationship with Him is more reverent and necessary.

Molly also took me to the Cleveland Museum of ART!  I lived my best life.  I knew SO MANY artists, because this home schooling mother has been studying the 50 most famous artists of the world.  YES!YES!YES!  I was smart.  I was right.  I was educated.  Sigh.  (Clearly, that's a rare combination.)

Monet.

Degas.

Andy Warhol.

Picasso.

Saturday Matthew Huang was the lead celloist for the Cleveland Contemporary Orchestra.  He played "Holts's Invocation."  I knew just how to attend -- I've been listening to Holst for the past three months, so I was so prepared.  Molly and George certainly supported their clever musician.

Such beautiful music.

Sunday morning was another walk in the memory.  I sat in the back of our chapel and just watched myself with small children.  I wanted to tell myself, keep going.  You're not getting anything from these messages, but you're getting everything from the blessing of obedience.

Nick and Maddie helped at the stake service project and dance.  Maddie raced like a beast.  State is coming up.  Ryan scored a touchdown at his game.  Eddie's informational book this week is, Make Your Bed.

Maisie called to boast about her pressed "submit" button -- finishing up her mission papers.  We are so excited for her.  She has just one final left, a week to pack up her dorm, and SHE'S HOME!  It's about time.

Andy's report, "I think I'm going to work with Ricky."

"I just spent a fat load of money," he replaced his stolen computer and airpods.

(I can't seem to upload his gym pic this week.)

Meg's report: "It's cold again -- spring is very unpredictable."  Babies have dimpled hands and giggle at their daddy hourly.