When There's Nothing Left to Stand On

You know when you've heard something a hundred times but then, for the first time, you really hear it?

And these words that you've heard, that you've spoken, that you know by heart, take on a meaning that they never have before.

Your heart fills and so do your eyes.

And they both overflow with gratefulness for a new understanding; a revelation.

You want to mark that moment.

You want to remember when His voice spoke into your heart, and you heard Him.

I grew up on hymns.

I've been singing them for as long as I can remember.

We sang a favorite of mine in church today, The Solid Rock.

It's one I've sung many times before.

It's one I know most of the words to.

It's beautiful.

But this time, the words of that hymn ministered to my heart in a way that they never have before.

"My hope is built on nothing less,

Than Jesus' blood and righteousness;

I dare not trust the sweetest frame, 

But wholly lean on Jesus' name.

On Christ the solid rock I stand,

All other ground is sinking sand,

All other ground is sinking sand."

The words struck me--"my hope is built on nothing less."

Where is my hope?

Where have I leaned for strength, for protection, for happiness and peace?

I've leaned on myself.

I've leaned on my marriage.

I've leaned on my husband, my children, my friends, family, home, job, even my circumstances.

And some of those things have failed me.

At some point in my life, all of those things will fail me.

Why?

Because they are sinking sand.

"When darkness veils His lovely face,

I rest on His unchanging grace;

In every high and stormy gale,

My anchor holds within the veil."

When I walked through my darkest valleys, He was there.

When it was so dark, it seemed like He wasn't, He still was.

The rest of my world sank around me, but He was my solid rock.

People will fail you.

Your marriage will fail you.

Your children will fail you.

One day your job might not be there.

Or your home.

One day there will be a fire, an earthquake, a car accident.

We think it won't happen to us.

But it will.

And if our hope is in this world, then we will crumble just as our world crumbles around us.

But if our "hope is built on nothing less" than JESUS, we will stand back up.

Tossed, buffeted, thrown down and hurt by the gales of this life, we will stand back up, because we're "resting on His unchanging grace."

And after that we can look back on the hard times, yes, even the hardest times, and see that He was always there.

It makes me love Him so much more.

Because He was there for me when I was alone.

When I thought all hope was lost, He stayed the course.

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, 

I will fear no evil,

for You are with me; 

Your rod and Your staff, 

they comfort me."  Psalm 23:4

I realized today that for much of my life I have placed my hope in the wrong place.

I have given Jesus part of me, but held back much more.

"I can do it myself."

Oh, I hear myself in my 3 year old daughter all day long!

The truth is, I can't do it myself.

No one else can do it for me either.

He is the only thing that doesn't change.

"All other ground is sinking sand."

So I will ask myself, "who am I standing in today?"

"Who am I leaning on?"

It can't be anyone, or anything, but The Solid Rock.

Love from,

Greta

Live Oak Park and Such

This post is for my fellow Fallbrookians.

To grow up in Fallbrook is to go to Live Oak Park.

I have more memories than I can count centered around that park.

I love it just as much now as I did then.

Probably more.

I always wished I could live in one of those cool, old ranger houses.

Still do.

I always loved the towering, gnarled, oak trees.

Still do.

I always loved the finding acorns stuffed in trees by acorn woodpeckers and squirrels.

Still do.

My love for Fallbrook runs deep.

So does my love for Live Oak Park.

The only complaint I have about the park is that all the old playground equipment is gone.

You know the equipment we played on as kids?

The big merry-go-round that we'd get spinning at crazy speeds and then throw our heads back as we spun and tried not to get sick.

My brother and his friends would hold onto one of the handles and drag the lower half of their bodies in the dirt as it spun.

We had so much fun with that thing.

Then there were the super tall swings, the super tall slide, the bumpy slide, the big teeter totters, and that swing thing that you had to stand under and swung from with your arms up above your head.

Remember that one?

It's all gone.

Replaced with new, probably safer, equipment.

I miss the old, paint-chipped, sharp-metal-edged, head-injury-inducing stuff I grew up with.

But my kids like the new stuff just fine.

We visited the park with the cousins a couple of days after Christmas.

Lilly and Lizzy like to share everything.

Ha!  

Only sometimes.

Baby Abby.

William and Cora on the strange teeter-totter contraption.
William loves Cora so much.
They really understand each other, I think.
And she is sweet to him--so she's even better than a big sister would be.
Because sometimes big sisters can be bossy, or bratty.
(except for mine--she's perfect.  and i'm not being sarcastic)

I think my love for nature--exploring it, learning about it, studying it, and simply being out in it--started at Live Oak Park.
As a kid, I imagined it to be the wilderness and loved taking off on the "trails", searching for adventure.
It's a beautiful place for exploring.

Especially at this time of year when the grass is green.

A little bit of rain brings out the mushrooms.

And way up there in that Sycamore tree, we saw some acorn woodpeckers.
I wish I had brought my zoom lens.

I'm glad this park of the park hasn't changed.
There is something about those old, stone walls lining the creeks that I just love.
They bring back very specific memories.
Like the time I was 13, wearing my pink jeans, purple shirt, pink scrunchie, purple socks and pink and purple hightops, trying to keep all of them clean by just walking on the sandy parts of the creek bed. 
A boy offered to hold my hand and jump down into the deeper part of the creek.
"Let's jump together," he said.
"That's OK," I said with a toss of my ponytail.  "I can do it myself."
Is it any wonder I didn't have a boyfriend until I was 18?
I was never very good at flirting. 
But I did always love to explore that creek.
Still do.

It's a bit harder now, with Davy in tow and Lilly to help up and down.
James had his first brush with stinging nettles here a couple of years ago.
Now he knows to look out for it.
And poison oak too.
They don't let danger deter them.
And they're dying to go in that tunnel.
I remember feeling the same way.
My mom never let me.
I haven't let them.
I guess some things never change.

Oh those were some stinky and muddy feet heading back to the car.
But they had fun.

And when we got back, there were gingerbread houses to make.
But mostly a lot of candy to eat.
Because, you have to do up Christmas right.

And before we left Fallbrook and Christmas 2011, we swung by the Christmas house for a musical light show that rivals anything that Disneyland has.
And it's free!

Whew!

I'm exhausted.

Cheers to another wonderful Christmas.

Love from,

Greta

PS. If you are a bit of a Fallbrook nerd, or at least interested in its history, I found this, which talks a lot about the history of Live Oak Park.

There are some good stories in it and pictures too.

California Christmas

We have had just about perfect weather this month.

I think it rained 2 days, maybe 3.

Just enough to make soup, get cozy inside and then be done with it before cabin fever sets in.

I really like 80 degree beach days in January.

In fact, if every January was like this, it might become my favorite month.

The only downside I can see is that I am not getting much use out of those Hunters.

Oh well, there's always February.

It might get cold and wet then.

The weather was pretty amazing during Christmas as well.

The sun was shining and it was over 70 out the day after Christmas, so the kids wanted to go in Nana and Papa's jacuzzi.

They tried doing the polar bear plunge in the pool, but it was just too cold.

So it was back to the jacuzzi they went.
Where lots of splashing and laughing were done.

After 13 + hours of sleep, this little girl was much more fun to be around.

She is amazing in the water.
Her swim teacher told me she'll probably be a better swimmer than her brothers because of her endurance and drive.
She is ultra competitive and won't accept that there is something she can't do.

She was psyching herself up to swim across the jacuzzi under water
I heard her saying to herself, "I can do this!  I'm not afraid!  I have power!"
And then she did it.

They swam for most of the afternoon.
They got out for snacks.

And to do silly poses for Auntie Greta, the lady who always has a camera in her hands.

I love these kids.

I love time with the cousins.

I love Nana and Papa's jacuzzi in winter.

I love California Christmases.

Love from,

Greta

Christmas Morn

Finally!
Christmas morning!
The kids were bursting with excitement and woke up before 6.


Being nice to the grandparents, and brother and sister-in-law, we held off on opening presents until 7.
We stalled them with stockings.
It worked.
For a while.
And then, oh glory!, they skipped into the living room for presents!

That's where they saw these!
New (to them) bikes.
Yippee!

They were all so thrilled.
William's new bike was actually James' old one.
Aaron put on new pedals and grips in William's favorite color.
It also got a new training wheels and a bell.
William didn't mind a bit that his bike was a hand-me-down.
I really appreciated that.

Lilly's trike was also a hand-me-down.
It used to be a sorry looking affair.
Lilly called it the Rusty, Old, Blue, Trike.
She loved riding it, though.
Aaron spray painted it her favorite color, added ribbons, and a bell.
She couldn't have been happier.

James got his first bike with hand brakes.
Remember your first bike with handbrakes?
Remember crashing?
James was excited.
And a little nervous.

It was a bike Christmas.

I remember my bike Christmas.
It was pink and purple, with a banana seat covered in butterflies, a basket with pink flowers on it and I loved it.
I wish I still had that bike.

After bikes, we stopped to remember the real reason we were celebrating Christmas.

We put a candle in a cinnamon roll and sang Happy Birthday to Jesus.

William brought the chain calender he made in Sunday School all the way to Fallbrook for Christmas morning.

Every year for Christmas Aaron and I give each kid a special book.
It's a book that they'll keep, the idea being that when they have their own kids, they'll have a great collection of children's books.
I try to choose each book based on each child's interests or personality that year.
They love their books.

Davy got one too, of course.

William read it to him.

But he liked the boxes the best.

We take turns watching everyone open gifts.

Can a boy ever have enough Legos?

Dziadzi loved his pictures from our trip to Cambria.

Aaron got some of the world's best candies.

And I got pink Hunters!

Happiness!!

After presents, we turned on Johnny Mathis, made breakfast and the boys wrestled with Uncle B.

He likes to catch them in the TOOT HOLD.

It's awfully hard to get out of that Toot Hold.
And awfully funny when you're in there.
Unless Uncle B. lets one go.
Then it's not funny any more.
At all.

Lilly loved some time with her Auntie Karen.

And after all that fun and frivolity, we packed up the car again, and drove across town to our next round of Christmas celebrations.
We spent Christmas afternoon with Aaron's family.
We opened presents, and had Christmas dinner together.
And before the sun even set, Lilly was asleep, utterly spent from sickness (the Curse got her too) late nights and full days.
She was a basket case.

I didn't get one picture of the afternoon.

It was chaos control with my kids by that point.
Christmas fun can get a little overwhelming.
But still, a lot of good memories were made.
And I am kind of loving looking back now, mid January, when it already feels like a year has passed.
Merry Christmas!
Love from,
Greta