Autumn is officially "just around the corner," and it's already begun to make an appearance. There are some leaves turning here .. those on sumac bushes and our black gum tree out near the mailbox.
The photo here was taken of some dogwood trees last fall in the mountains of Tennessee. We had gone for a little retreat of our own and went to Fairhaven, a peaceful getaway for anyone, but particularly built for and reaching out to those in ministry.
It certainly is a quiet, lovely place with wonderful chalets and a rustic, welcoming lodge. Even the drive up the mountain to the lodge is a feast for the eyes.
While there, we took time to reflect on the busy months of the earlier part of that year -- as a couple, as parents, as pastor and wife in the ministry, and as grandparents (we'd just received news of our daughter's pregnancy at the time.)
That trip was a blessing in so many ways. The staff at Fairhaven were so kind and accomodating. A nice-sized library of games, books and puzzles were on loan to anyone who wished to use them. A roaring fireplace was in the main lobby with plenty of rocking chairs waiting for visitors to sit and chat.
The chalets had one master bedroom, a full kitchen, nice-sized livingroom/dining combo and an upper level with twin beds. The sofa made out into a bed, too, so it was possible to sleep six people comfortably.
Our chalet was literally backed up to a mountainside. Before us, outside the picture window, we could see the glorious hills -- their peaks and valleys taking on various hues at differnt times of the day or evening.
Early mornings, we would take a cup of hot cappuccino or tea out on the deck and listen to the birds greet the day. Below us, a pond beckoned with a cheery red rowboat tethered to the bank. A duck family floated, waddled and quacked, claiming their rightful territory. Streams and creeks were abundant in the area and made a musical backdrop as they dabbled or dashed over moss-covered stones.
Autumn is a wonderful time for retreats and mini-vacations. Even a short drive through the countryside refreshes the body, mind and spirit. God's creation is all around us, and when He adorns it with the colors of autumn, we need to take notice!
Take your little ones outdoors to collect pretty leaves and save some well-ribbed ones for crayon rubbings. Introduce the art (and work) of raking leaves by promising your children a chance to jump in the pile after it gets "this high." Even adults can hardly resist the urge to revisit childhood and romp a bit.
Our two older ones loved to bury their brother in a pile and then come get me. "Mom, have you seen Kevin anywhere?" I'd stall a bit, giving our 3-year old time to bolt upright and holler, "Here I am!"
Autumn is also a great time for hikes, bike rides, roasting marshmallows and cozying up to a fire on the hearth -- or sitting around a snapping bonfire outdoors. The smells and sights in autumn are gifts from our Lord.
It is His reminder to us that even though life on this earth is temporary, it is full of beautiful moments. As we lift our hearts and voices in praise to Him, we are refreshed and He is glorified. Autumn reminds us to slow down and enjoy the last few weeks of beauty and wonder before the trees are stripped of color.
I hope you and your loved ones have a blessed autumn!
The following story is true. Names have not been changed to protect the innocent ...
For four glorious hours, I will have perfect peace! No chattering children and no dirty diapers to deal with. No one at my elbow asking for another drink or if they can go outside on a cold, wet day. Today is all mine! I smile and wiggle my toes, then slip out of bed and into comfortable clothes.
While volunteering in a basement sale room may not be high up on other moms' list, it's a big deal for me. I happen to love books. I also love meeting other adults and having meaningful conversations - without being interrupted ten times to wipe runny noses or settle sibling squabbles.
When the phone rings, I grab it and hear Jana, my babysitter all out of breath. She's on the way to the emergency room with hubby, who has cut his arm with a chain saw. Can I find another babysitter? I don't tell her she was my last resort. Promising to pray for them, I hang up and head for the kitchen.
"That was Mrs. Jana," I explain. "She can't keep you today, so you'll be going with me to the Booke Nooke today."
"Oh, goodie!" Melissa grins around her cereal spoon. She loves books as much as her mom does. "Oh, doodie!" echoes eighteen-month-old Kevin from his high chair. My four-year-old cowboy Jason growls, "Let's get outta here, dudes!"
Volunteers at the Ashland Public Library are supposed to arrive early, but the door is locked. When I tap on the window, a worker looks up and mouths at me,
We don't open until 9:00, and I mouth right back, I'm the Booke Nooke volunteer. Raising one eyebrow, she looks us over, turns on her heel and disappears into the head librarian’s office.
"Why can't we go in?" Jason grumps. It's wet and cold on the sidewalk.
Just then a silver-haired lady crosses the carpet, unlocks the door and states, "You're the volunteer? And these are ... your children."
I'm tempted to say, "No, m'am. I found them playing in the street and thought I'd bring them by to pull all the books off your shelves." Instead, I explain my babysitting dilemma and the urgent need to get downstairs before sale seekers arrive.
"We've gotta hurry," my daughter prods.
The librarian sniffs and hands me the key to the Booke Nooke. Even with riding the elevator, I will be hard pressed to get downstairs, unlock the sale room, get three children settled, open the cash drawer, arrange the latest donations on shelves and - catch my breath.
My daughter tries to help by stopping our first customer at the doorway. "We aren't ready yet. Can you wait in the hall?"
He smiles sympathetically when I apologize. The man should be wearing a best-first-customer badge. His patience is priceless as he interacts with the children and offers to arrange the newly-donated books for me. Turns out he is also a volunteer and has a lot more experience in the Booke Nooke than I do.
More people straggle in over the next hour while Mr. Kindheart - as I've dubbed him - greets them. He even introduces them to the children and brags on how well-behaved they are. I am one relieved Mama and pause to wink at my three cherubs.
Moments later, however, I hear a familiar sound. One I'd rather hear at home or in some remote corner of planet Earth. It is my younger son, who has crawled up onto a handy bookshelf, hiked his rear in the air and is grunting like a woman in labor. And just in case the adults aren't privy to this behavior, his big brother booms out, "Bubby's having a VOWEL movement!"
There are chuckles all around, and then various explanations for their grand exodus soon after. My daughter sums it up well when she waves one hand under her nose and giggles, "Shoo-weee!"
I leave a note on the desk and close the door behind us, then herd my three kiddos onto the elevator. While I'm disposing of a loaded diaper and replacing it with a fresh one, the other two have permission to step across the hall and visit the children's storybook section. When they beg to stay awhile, I relent.
Back downstairs, my sweet-smelling dumplin' son draws adoring glances from the next customers who show up. As they are leaving, I become anxious for the next volunteer to report. All things considered, we need to get back to familiar home turf.
A bit later, Kevin and I go upstairs to collect his siblings and report the missing volunteer Booke Nooker to the librarian. Thankfully, she tells me to lock up if we want to leave. I don't know about the kids, but this part of the we has been ready to leave since the infamous "vowel" experiment.
Back in the basement once more, I am counting up sales receipts when Jason approaches the desk and announces, "I gotta go." Don't let anybody tell you old folks are the only ones with frequent-bladder syndrome. This child can hang with the best of them! I ask if he can wait just five more minutes? He cannot. Melissa volunteers to escort her brother upstairs and down again.
Just as I finish locking the cash drawer, an alarm goes off. Why is it moms immediately suspect their children are involved in catastrophes? Call it instinct if you like, but it propels me up the stairs with Kevin hanging on for dear life.
My daughter is standing near the elevator. Beside her, the custodian desperately punches codes into the alarm box. Kevin slaps both hands over his ears and yells, "Stop dat noise!"
When the elevator door slides open, I see my four-year-old cowboy hunkering down in a corner like a scared rabbit. I pull him to me and kiss away his tears.
"He wanted to ride down by himself," Melissa tearfully offers. “I showed him the right button, but I guess he pressed the wrong one."
Indeed. I'd like to discuss this further, but the glares I'm getting from concerned adults could melt asphalt off the road outside. We slink downstairs to lock up the Booke Nooke and vacate the premises. Retrieving the cash drawer, I lock the door behind us and tell the children we're taking the stairs back up ... not the elevator!
The head librarian accepts the cash box and then hurries ahead to hold the door open for us. I don't think she's just being polite. I think we've stirred up enough ruckus to last her another lifetime.
Walking to the car, I notice my two older children hovering like parentheses around their little brother. He toddles between them, linking the three of them together like a trio of best friends. And they truly are. While our day didn't unfold the way I'd planned it, we all survived and learned a few lessons along the way.
First, you can prepare ahead of time, but you can't predict what life will dish out on any given day. Second, big sisters should never listen to little brothers who beg to ride elevators alone. And last but not least, we moms may wish for another set of arms, but we somehow manage without them. After all, multi-tasking is one of our many specialties - "vowel movements" included.
Autumn is officially "just around the corner," and it's already begun to make an appearance. There are some leaves turning here .. those on sumac bushes and our black gum tree out near the mailbox. 
