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The Happiest Place on Earth

The happiest place on earth

A surprise is brewing here in the Glover house. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime blow-your-mind surprise for the children.

And they have no idea. If you’re the kind of person who can’t keep a secret, just stop reading right now. You’ve got to keep it in until Monday. If you can do that, then raise your right hand. Take the oath of silence. Got it? Okay. Proceed.

It all started a few weeks ago when my mother-in-law called to tell us that Jeff’s aunt and uncle wanted to take the three older children to Disneyland for the week. They were going to bring Nana along too, just to make sure the kids were comfortable since Uncle Fred and Aunt LaVonne are twice-a-year relatives and the kids might feel better going to California with someone they know better. Besides, everything is better with a Nana, even Disney.

Disney! Ahhhhhhhh!

I was stunned when I heard it. Never in a million years would we be able to take our children to Disneyland. Maybe if we were stationed in California we could take the kids there for a day, but to fly? And to stay for days on end? That was out of the question. It’s one of the realities of having five children. Some things should not even be wished for.

But that is not the way Uncle Fred and Aunt LaVonne think. They have always had hearts big enough for crazy wishes, and even though they have grandchildren of their own to spoil and love on, they have hearts big enough for a few more. Even five more.

But all five children were not going to Disney, only three. I hung up the phone and let that thought sink in. Only three children would be going to Disney, three children when all five were old enough to know what was going on and what was being left out.

I went to bed that night but I couldn’t sleep. What a beautiful gift we had been given. It was so beautiful, it almost hurt. It hurt because all of my children couldn’t have it.

It hurt because my twins would know they were being left out, and I didn’t know how to justify that. We are the kind of family that does everything together. From dawn to dusk, my children share the same space, the same activities, the same experiences. On the rare occasions when one of them is gone, the others languish like they’ve lost a limb.

The one who is singled out doesn’t fair much better. When I took Jonathan out for his birthday, he often paused his constant chatter about birds of prey and knives and speculations about how fast he could run to sigh dramatically and say, “I wonder what The Others are doing now.”

I wonder what the others are doing now…

The twins were going to notice. They were going to feel it. And I ached for them over it.

I ached so much, I almost couldn’t let the other three go. It felt selfish and mean to hold something back from the older ones just because the little ones couldn’t have it too. How could I deny my children the experience of a lifetime? But then I thought of those boys, those sweet boys who practically can’t function without Kya, their social coordinator, and Jonathan, their wrestle-buddy, and Faith, their story-reader and horse. Yes, horse.

I put my head on Jeff’s shoulder and cried it all out.

“Life isn’t fair,” he said in his I’m-going-to-make-it-okay voice. “Sometimes, it doesn’t come out the same, and the sooner our kids can learn that, the better.”

I got that. Really. I did. We have never tried to treat our kids as equals; we have treated them as individuals with different needs and different gifts. Sometimes, that means one of them gets a new pair of shoes and the others don’t.

But this is Disney. This is not just a new pair of shoes. This is the-greatest-thing-that-happened-in-my-childhood kind of thing. This is the stuff that will cause my twins to dye their hair blue and tattoo mouse ears on their bodies when they’re twenty-three. If I ask them why they’ll say, “You never took us to Disney.”

Cut out my heart.

Run away! Run away!

“We need to let them go,” Jeff assured me.

I knew it. I just didn’t know how to live with it.

So, I’ve kept it a secret. I’ve kept it a secret and I’ve poured all my creative energies into making this epic experience even more epic. It is Epic Supersized. I am doctoring my heart by planning the most amazing surprise my older kids have even known. They have no idea where they are going. They do not know they will be spending a week with Nana. They do not know they will be flying on a plane! They do not know they will be landing in California and spending three luscious days at the Happiest Place on Earth.

Here in my little laboratory (pronounced la-BORE-uh-tory), I am crafting up a Disney storm. Wait until you see the pixie dust I’ve concocted. You will die.

Somewhere in all my plotting and scheming and crafting, it has become okay. I guess that’s one of the ways to cope when life isn’t fair: you add glitter.

The other half of my brain is planning a week of precious memories with my littlest loves. Oh, the places we will go! They will not know that their siblings are at Disney. It’s better that way, I think. They will have time enough to know it when their sisters and brother return. They don’t need to be jealous about it while they’re gone.

All they will know is that they are loved.

And isn’t that the best thing to know when life isn’t fair?

A Secret

I like to hold secrets, good secrets, the kind that make eyes kind and lips turn up into smiles, the kind that can’t stay hidden because they’re too good not to share. Sometimes, you get a secret like that, and it is salty from tears and sweet from hope and you can’t help but savor it a bit before you pass it on.

Yesterday, I got to taste a secret like that.

“They called, Baby!” he said when I got home, “and I’m in!”

“You are? Really?” I grabbed my husband around the neck and held him close because I almost couldn’t believe it. It was over. The months of waiting, the year without a job, the praying and hearing and second-guessing–it was all over.

The Army had approved Jeff’s application to Active Duty. He would be a full-time chaplain after all.

Chaplain Glover

Relief and sadness and joy swirled around all at once as we stood in the living room, just the two of us, holding that secret between us. I looked in his eyes and he looked every bit like a man who had seen God come through when there was no plan B, no back door, no detour. Not really. There were leads and there guesses but there was no surety. There was just this, this thing we half-felt called to do and the shadow-fear that we might have heard it wrong.

We might have heard it wrong.

That’s the kind of thing that keeps me up at night, that keeps me trembling at the walls of Jericho, facing a wall thicker than my resolve. What if we heard it wrong?

It is a nagging doubt that wakes me from a restless sleep and makes me lay out fleeces in the damp of the night because my confidence doesn’t stretch our far enough to cover up the dust. And I tremble when I should be sleeping while the dew falls thick all around, and I know it should quench my doubt.

But it doesn’t.

Because I realize, with holy dread, that the voice of God is not enough. I want to see His hand. I want to wrestle around a bit, flesh to flesh, so that when the night finally slips into morning at least I know I had something more than just a voice in my head. I want to know I saw His hand.

Yesterday, we saw His hand, and we knew, finally, that this calling was more than just a voice inside our heads. All the doors were opened that once had been closed and suddenly, the questions dissolved and the answers stood out bright like day.

But I stood in the hallway for just a bit, holding that secret and that little glimpse of His hand. I know, now, where to walk, and it feels altogether lovely to know I am not running ahead or lagging behind. I am where I should be.

I kick my feet against the fleece on the ground, and stare at it, shame-faced for having put it out there to begin with. Because it is dripping with glory and drenched in grace, and I should have known better. I should have listened to His voice.

But it is just like God to say things twice, or three times because He knows children have troubling hearing. It is just like God to put signs in the desert and mess with fleeces when His words should be enough. It is just like God to show me His hand by grasping mine.

It is the kind of thing I want to hold to myself for just a bit, like a secret, and remember when the sun shines hot over the promised land and I begin to wish I was back where I started. I want to remember this unmistakable glimpse of God’s hand. This is where He is leading us, and this is where we gladly go.

The Glover boys

Origami Owl Giveaway

If you’ve been reading this blog and have wondered how I came to be so incredibly talented and witty, not to mention humble, it’s time you knew my secret: I was homeschooled.

Yes, it’s true. I was homeschooled off and on during my elementary years and all through high school. It was a great experience, for the most part. I got to take naps right in the middle of Algebra and never had any pop quizzes.

But my senior year came and went and I graduated with very little fanfare. One day, I ran out of school work to do and that was it. My high school years were over. I didn’t have a class ring, a year book, or even a cap and gown. There was very little to commemorate my years of effort except an ACT score and a stack of college applications.

So when Shannon Ferraby contacted me a few months ago about the possibility of doing a giveaway for customizable jewelry, I was thrilled. Shannon is an independent consultant with Origami Owl Custom Jewelry. She is in the business of making wearable works of art that tell a story, the story of what you’ve accomplished, what you love, or maybe even what you dream of.

Shannon is a memory-keeper, a story-weaver, a dream-catcher.

All I could think about when I was introduced to her business was how perfect her jewelry is for all the other homeschooled girls out there who graduate without much to show for the milestone they have achieved. I thought about how perfect her living lockets would be as a graduation gift for a special young woman, like my own daughters, and I knew I had to do this giveaway.

Of course, this giveaway is not just about me (ahem) and Origami Owl is about more than just making lockets for homeschooled girls. Origami Owl is about preserving any story in jewelry form.

Being a story-teller myself, I kind of love that. A lot.

Shannon specializes in creating Living Lockets, although if you look around her site, you’ll see some other types of jewelry too. It’s just that these are my favorite.

These beautiful pieces are like scrapbook pages on a chain. You all know I don’t scrapbook, even though I love the idea of scrapbooks. I just. can’t. do it. So I am thrilled by the idea of having a “scrapbook” without all the, well, scrapbooking.

Much like the page of a scrapbook, each locket can be filled with personalized charms that tell a story. The story can change over time, and you can add or subtract charms as often as you like. Change it to suit the season, a new goal in your life–whatever you like!

Lockets are secured with strong magnet closures so they can be opened and changed as often as you desire.

The story you choose to highlight might be an accomplishment, like a graduation,

Graduation Locket with school colors and year

the story of motherhood,

or a lifetime achievement.

You might want to preserve the memory of a special trip,

a beloved pet,

or remind yourself of the person you strive to be,

and what you believe.

Whatever your story is, Shannon would like to give you the chance to tell it with Origami Owl. She is giving away a $35 credit to Origami Owl to one reader! All you have to do is enter the Rafflecopter below. Don’t forget to share the giveaway for extra entries, and stay tuned to Shannon’s Facebook page for other specials you won’t want to miss! You can even send your husband to her page and Shannon will help him create a Mother’s Day gift you’ll adore.

That’s what I call a happy ending.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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