Sons Spot

The Cracks in This Pot

2012-02-08T08:37:00.004-05:00

I do a science experiment with the boys every week. This week the purpose of our experiment was to find out why the bubbles in soda cling to the side and bottom of a glass, and what happens when we dip a strip of paper towel into the glass of carbonated beverage. The children's procedure was to observe what the bubbles did, and then record their findings. My job, was to tell them why.

The reason why the tiny bubbles cling to the surfaces is because the carbon dioxide in the soda immediately seeks out the microscopic pores, cracks, or imperfections in the glass and paper towel, and the bubbles form in these places. The gas is trying to escape, it is seeking out oxygen, and it is clinging to every surface that offers this opportunity. It was a chemical reaction between two gases, but it prompted me to think about the cracks in my own vessel, and how I believe they have allowed the, "bad stuff," to escape.

You see, I am a very cracked pot. My Potter has had to pick up the pieces and glue me back together many of times throughout my life. This is not easy for me to admit. From the outside others may not see my cracks, my broken parts, the things I have survived that have without a doubt left their marks, but they are there. However, my Master, my Potter, my faithful Creator, has always been there to help me put it all back together.

As odd as it may seem, I am thankful for my cracks, my impurities, my lessons learned. They allow the ugliness inside me to escape. They give ventilation to the sinfulness of my soul, and remind me just how reliant I am on my maker. I am stronger because of my cracks. My weak spots are still weak, but when I am willing to allow Him, my Potter uses them to make myself and others stronger.

In a few months I will be packing up my life and everything I have ever known, and traveling to Africa to begin a new life of ministry there. I do not know what my Potter has in store, but I do know that the cracks in me have allowed just enough of the sin out to make this a possibility. If I had never fallen down, if I had never been broken, I would have never seen the faithfulness of the Master's hand on my life. I am able to proceed because HE holds me in HIS altogether perfect hands!

"And yet, O LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, and you are the potter. We all are formed by your hand." Is. 64:8

Valentine's Day Challenge

2012-02-01T23:00:00.002-05:00

We are inviting you to take part in a special Valentine's Day Challenge. Wouldn't it be rewarding to show your loved one that you love him/her by helping share the love of Jesus with hurting people in Africa? Instead of giving away a material possession this year, please consider giving a gift that has the potential to last for an eternity. If you make a donation to our ministry with MAF in Lesotho during the month of February we will mail you a certificate with the name of your loved and the amount you are giving in his/her name. To take part in our Valentine's Day Challenge all you have to do is email us at rharrell@maf.org with your name, mailing address, donation amount, and who you would like to make the donation in honor of.

Currency of the Soul

2012-01-26T10:12:00.018-05:00

I am eternally grateful for all the blessings the Lord has bestowed on our boys. They have a great deal going for them in this life, and Richard and I have always been so thankful for the gifts and abilities our mini men posses. We have often told our boys they may rely on many God given attributes as they navigate through life, but that the glory must always go to the Great Giver of Gifts. On the other hand, my boys also know there is one thing they do not, and most likely will not be able to rely on in this life; the highly valued commodity called money.

Our boys are acutely aware of the sacrifices we have made as parents, and are equally as aware of the fact our choices result in a modest lifestyle at best. They have learned to go without, and they have learned to give. Don't get me wrong, my boys are suffering for nothing, but they know as missionary kids they are on a path that will not allow for a great deal of bankable assets throughout their young years. They are young, but I believe they understand this concept.

Last night while our family huddled around yet another booth, at yet another McDonald's, in yet another state, Aron Elijah's innocent words brought perspective to the topic of wealth. We were on our way home from a week long Ministry Partnership trip throughout the entire state of Ohio and into Michigan. Rich and I were running on fumes, and the boy's table chatter seemed removed from us. All of the sudden I tuned into what Aron was saying. He cocked his little head to the side and looking at his older brother with a sideways glance he inquired, "Aden, do you love Jesus?" Aden replied, "Yes, of course I do." Then, with equal parts awe and envy Aron responded, "Ohhh, Aden you are rich!"

Richard and I shared a quick look that confirmed what each of us had just heard. We also shared a moment of thankfulness, and a tear. As parents we try to make the best decisions we can using the BIBLE as the ultimate authority, and the SPIRIT to guide us. But there are moments when human doubt creeps in and we wonder how all of the recent changes will effect our boys long term. Last night, it was as though the Lord gave Richard and I yet another gift. Through the innocent words of our 5-year-old son, He told us that our boys are getting IT. They see with eyes not many adults have, and are content with their status in this life.

My boys are not rich by man's standards. They all wear hand-me-down clothes, but we have never gone without. They ride around town in a beat up old car, but it was provided for our family in a miraculous way. No, my boys will never hear the words, "you are rich," from their peers. But they love Jesus, they talk to Him, they read about Him, they memorize His words, and they are indeed very wealthy in the currency of the soul. The fact that they can distinguish this at such young ages is nothing short than a gift from God. It is my prayer that this eternal wealth continues to enrich their lives as they grow into mighty men!

Matthew 6:31-33
“Do not worry then, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear for clothing?’ “For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. “But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."

Zacchaeus was a wee little man

2012-01-17T19:38:00.019-05:00

This past weekend we left our kids in Weaverville, NC with Richard's parents and drove north to speak at a church neither of us had ever seen before, and to speak to people neither of us had ever met. Richard preached a full 45 minute message at North Rome Wesleyan Church, and we both presented our ministry in Lesotho during the Sunday School hour to combined classes. In ministry partnership terms, this was a fantastic opportunity to build our team, and gain prayer and financial support.

As we pulled up to the rural church, Rich and I had little or no expectations. It was only 1 degree outside and probably only 32 degrees inside. We were cold and tired from our long trip. It was an average sized church, and when we arrived there were no cars in the parking lot. We had just driven 14 hours for this speaking engagement. We shared worried looks, but quickly put them aside as we prayed. "God we know you set this appointment, this is your assignment, please give us the words to speak to these people, no matter how small their number." This was our prayer as we set up our display table, Richard hooked up his power point presentation, and we shook hands with the preacher. "Dear, God you are in control, please use us."

After we prayed with the pastor, we sat at the front of the church and Rich nervously anticipated his introduction to speak. As we waited, the sanctuary began to fill. At first the people begin to trickle in, and then all at once they flowed through the doors like warm air heating up the room. People moved closer and closer in the pews, Richard's nerves grew, I reassured him, and by the time he was summoned to the pulpit, about 350 people had gathered in this rural, unassuming church. As my husband spoke the words God laid on his heart, my heart soared. God knew. God did this. God allowed these people to come and hear the important work my husband was sharing with them.

The most amazing part of this divine assignment was its origin. A man we had never met, mentioned to my father months ago that his church is very missions minded. This same man took our names to his pastor and church, and got us an unlikely opportunity to speak. Last Sunday, while I was listening to Richard I could not help looking over my shoulder to examine the crowd for the man who had made this possible. I had a problem, however, I did not have a clue what he looked like. I peered over my shoulder anyway and scanned the faces. I found our champion sitting a few rows behind me. I had never laid eyes on him, but I could tell him by the smile on his face and the joy, interest, enthusiasm, and even pride in his eyes. Our eyes met and we shared an instant connection. He had recognized me as well. God had made this connection.

After the services our champion invited us to his home where his wife had made a lovely lunch and some of his six adult children had gathered. He is a short man, slight in stature, and soft in voice, but bold in faith. He is a cow man, a simple man, and when Richard and I passed him as we entered his home, a huge smile spread across his face and he said, "I feel like Zacchaeus."

Much like God used Zacchaeus in the Bible, God used this simple man from the hills of rural Pennsylvania to do an extraordinary thing. This man facilitated the partnering of his church with Kingdom work that is taking place in one of the most obscure countries of the world. One common man, acting on what the Lord asked of him, is making a tremendous impact on lives that will ripple across the world.

Luke 19:5&9-10
"When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly. Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”

Warning: Strong Wills Reside at This House

2011-12-31T09:14:00.007-05:00

I have been falling behind the eight ball so to speak as it pertains to disciplining our boys. Slowly poor behavior, bad habits, and disrespect have gone unchecked in our home and the results have been less then comely. So, when a woman's voice on the radio, speaking about strong willed children broke through the bickering in our family vehicle, I sat up and paid attention. Her name is Cynthia Tobias and she is the author of You Can't Make Me, but I Could be Persuaded. I have owned this book for years, but clearly had forgotten the practical wisdom she offers in it. Yesterday in the car, it was as though I was hearing her concepts for the very first time. The timing for this advice was perfect for our family. You see, we are a household of strong wills, and this at times causes for an inharmonious home.

Lately, it has been too easy to only look at the negative aspects of a strong willed personality, but Tobias reminded us of the, "diamond in the rough," that is the strong willed person. I have known since my earliest memory that I am one of these people. I have never suffered fools easily, or been the person to sit back and allow wrongs to prevail. My parents would probably say I was their biggest challenge as a child to raise, and now I am raising four boys who have been blessed with even stronger wills than I have ever had. In fact, I have needed to rely on my own strong will almost every day in order to hold onto the God given parental authority I have over my sons.

The freedom Tobias gives in her book is something that I remember being liberated by years ago, but hearing her on the radio yesterday allowed me to free my sons from the limitations I had been trying to place on their wills. You see, God intended for the strong willed child, man, woman to be just that....STRONG. I can look back over my life thus far and see many, many situations in which I got through by sheer will and determination. Coupled with God's help, I know I will need these same attributes as I move to a life as a missionary in Africa. The potential of a strong willed person who has surrendered poor behavior over to God is vast.

If you have a strong willed child, or person in your life, here are some of the points Tobias makes that I feel resound the most. As a strong willed person...

1. Your relationship with me is ALL you have with me. If you lose our relationship, you lose me.

2. I want to see the boundaries. I will ALWAYS test them, but I want to see that they exist.

3. DO NOT YELL AT ME! It will be all the more difficult to get me to do what you want the next time.

4. Ask me to do tasks, don't tell me to do them, then follow the request with an, "okay?"

5. Let me fall, allow me to fail. This is how I learn.

6. I know when I have done wrong. Punish me and allow me to move on.

7. Don't give me empty threats. Calmly issue the punishment. I know I deserve it.

8. Pray for me!

* If you do not know anybody with a strong will this will probably seem very much like permissive hogwash to you. However, if you have been blessed to know, or BE a strong willed person, I pray this post, and the Holy Spirit speak to you in some way.

I wanna be just like you

2011-12-19T13:23:00.007-05:00

We spent this past weekend with my sister, Amy and her family in Lynchburg, VA. The trip served two purposes. One, to celebrate my niece, Emma's 10th Birthday, and two, to share our ministry during Amy's Sunday School class at Thomas Road Baptist Church.

Every Ministry Partnership trip has its highs and lows, but this trip was mostly highs. It was a delight to spend time with my beautiful nieces and share in their lives. It was so great to catch up with my brother, Sam and his family, and to see my sister, Marita and her kids. The time with my siblings was refreshing and rewarding, and I am thankful for the opportunity I had to simply be myself with my brother and sisters. These people know better than anyone the journey I have been on for the past 13 years, and it was awesome to be welcomed as a missionary into my sister's and brother's church.

When we were presenting to my sister, Amy's Sunday School class I tried hard to avert my eyes from her's. I knew if I caught her eye I would become a puddle of emotion. I failed desperately at this task. I am not sure why I became so emotional in front of my older sister's class, but I think it has a lot to do with the way she was looking at me. She was so proud.

Amy is 9-years older than me. She named me, Megan Rose. She allowed me to sleep in the same bed with her until I was way too old, and then shared her bed with me on college breaks until she was a married woman. My earliest childhood memories are with my sister Amy, and my most poignant adult memories have her at my side.

This past Sunday, in the car when we were alone, Amy simply said to me in her soft, sweet voice, "I am so proud of you." Those words mean the world to me, but what I was unable to say to her was, she should be equally as proud of herself. I could not ever be where I am in life, or ministry if it were not for her love and support. If I had not had her to idolize as a little girl, to aspire to be like as a young woman, to learn from as a young mother and wife, and to emulate as a daughter of Christ, I would not be where I am today on my journey.

I was not able to say how equally proud I am of my big sister. I am proud of the daughters she is putting out into the world. I am proud of how she is the first person to jump into her car and come to the aid of anybody who is in need. I am proud of her loving heart, and of her quick humor. I am proud of how she stands her ground in a sweet and gentle way. In many ways I hope to be just like her when I finish growing up, mostly because,.....she tries to be just like Jesus.

"Welcome Home"

2011-12-12T13:33:00.009-05:00

As we passed the sign welcoming us to the state of Tennessee Alex yelled enthusiastically, "Aden, we are home!" Although Alex only spent the first 2 1/5 years of his childhood, and Aden merely the first 9 days of his life in Tennessee, my boys very much enjoyed their homecoming this past week.

We were able to show the boys many of the places that housed the first moments of our little family, and to nostalgically walk down roads we have not seen in six long years. However, the best part of being back home in Tennessee was the familiar faces of friends. It did our hearts well to see these people from our pasts. When we moved to Elizabethton, Tenn. we had only been married two short weeks, and now we have been married for over a decade. So many things have transpired during these years that have changed us as human beings, but in many ways things are still untouched in Elizabethton. From the iconic covered bridge, to the local newspaper I wrote for, time has not seemed to wear away at these memories.

Neal Bachman, Rich's first boss in TN, blessed our boys with a ride in his airplane. We were able to go on hikes in the snow in the mountains, we saw a bear up close and personal, and we were able to worship with our old church family at EAC. We also were treated to a special lunch at the Bachman home with old friends. After lunch we enjoyed another reunion with fellow missionaries, the Schmidts, who started out in this process long before us in Kenya, Africa. Both reunions offered wisdom, and strength for a continued journey.

We will forever remember Tennessee as the place in which we grew up...quickly. We cut our teeth on some of life's most direct blows, and greatest blessings in the rugged mountains of Tennessee. It is interesting how it can still feel so familiar after all these years, it has been woven into the very fabrics that make up our beings. It is home.

A friend like this....

2011-11-18T13:23:00.008-05:00

One of the most precious parts of this pre-field phase of ministry is the opportunities it affords us to spend time with friends and family. This past weekend we were able to spend time with my dear college friend, Jen and her family. We spoke at a church and met with a pastor in her home town of South Hill, VA, and in between appointments Jen and I were able to catch up and recharge our batteries.

Since 1998 Jen has been one of my dearest friends. Each of us has gone through life's joys and trials with the other playing a significant supporting role. We have prayed and loved each other through college relationships, engagements, weddings, pregnancies, newborns, toddlers, marriages, and all of life's ups and downs. Not many things happen in my life that I don't pick up the phone to call Jen. We truly have watched each other grow up, but when we are together it seems as though we are still teens.

This past weekend, it seemed surreal that, together we have seven children ages eight and under. It was so much fun to see our kids play together and to get to love on each other's babies. However, the moments were bitter sweet for me. As awesome as it was to spend time with a dear friend, I was acutely aware that such moments will become fewer, and harder to come by as we make our move towards a life of full time ministry in Lesotho.

As I watched Jen and her family this past weekend, I was so proud of her. It was almost as though I felt I could leave her now. She has grown into an amazing woman. She has become a godly, loving wife and mother. She is strong, and patient, and humble. She is going to do be just fine in life, but I sure am going to miss being right by her side while she lives it.

2011-11-11T12:04:00.002-05:00

My HERO

2011-10-28T09:50:00.006-04:00

I have heard many people name those who inspire them. The name of an athlete, minister, missionary, soldier, or historical figure usually comes to mind when people consider inspirational men and women. I, however, am inspired by my son.

Aron is the strongest person I know, and it has nothing to do with his over developed muscles. I have known him for a little under five years, and yet he has inspired me to work harder, love bigger, and forgive more. The way in which he attacks life and overcomes any obstacle in his path causes me to consider my own fortitude and resilience. But Aron Elijah is more than just a tough, rambunctious little boy. His HEART is fierce, and although this attribute requires constant redirection on the part of his parents, I am inspired by my little boy's capacity to care.

He has overcome a lot already. I am sure there is a label out there for our Aron, but we don't use it. We don't need it. He is our Aron Elijah, and he is fantastic. At first glance he seems a constant contradiction. He struggles to count to 10, but has mastered just about any video game there is. He cannot sing the alphabet song, and yet he belts out the words to "At the Cross," with conviction and heart. He turns stiff and rigid if I reach out to hug him, and yet he yearns for me to wrestle him. It is a push and pull with him, he pushes us away and yet he desperately needs us to pull him close to us.

My son does not look at life like the rest of the world, and that is what inspires me the most. Aron is constantly standing things on end for me, and I will always be grateful for the perspective and depth he has given me. I am a better person because of him.

So, when I feel like giving up or not trying my best, Aron always comes to mind. I think of him walking around this week on his heel because of quarter sized blister on the bottom of his foot. I see the image of him aggressively playing soccer on that same blister, and I hear him bravely answer the question to how his foot feels; "It's bad, but I fine." He seems to cut the fat out of life, and what is left is pure muscle. I love his tenacity, but even more I love his capacity love in the most unique ways. He is, and forever will be, my hero.

Autumn in New York

2011-10-18T16:17:00.004-04:00

Yesterday we got home from a week and a half ministry partnership trip to New York State. During our time in NY we had eight speaking engagements and were able to share our ministry with people I have not seen for over a decade. I grew up in rural New York among the Amish, dairy farmers, and cattle. I have not been back there in the fall since I left home to get married 10 Octobers ago. I had forgotten how beautiful it is up there in the fall. The colors seem brighter, and the land in many ways seems untouched. We enjoyed basking in God's handiwork, enjoy a few pictures yourselves.

Weaverville Blessings

2011-09-23T08:57:00.005-04:00

We spent four days last week in Weaverville, NC. It is where Richard's parents live, and where we got married ten years ago. Going into the trip we all were exhausted and had little or no expectations about our time in the mountains, but after spending time with some dear friends we came home in the wee hours of the morning surprisingly refreshed. Refreshed not because we had time to sleep, but refreshed from the amazing encounters we had with old and new acquaintances.

We spent Friday night, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday catching up with people we had not seen in years. But we also met knew and amazing people who inspired us with their simple acts of faith and self sacrifice. I do not feel at liberty to write about them specifically as I believe they entrusted us with precious, private aspects of their lives, and we are greatly humbled by this. But I do want to share that the people who are forming Team Harrell are indeed a spirited, unique, humble, and inspirational group of individuals.

I continue to be amazed at what people have survived, and still say, "God use me, take all I have and use it for your Kingdom." It is from these people that we draw our strength to continue on our path to Lesotho. This reciprocal relationship between our supporters and ourselves defines the very essence of Ministry Partnership. We are able to bless others because we have been blessed so much! The happiness and contentment that flows from such relationships is contagious, and even though we have never more physically tired, we wake up refreshed and renewed spiritually.

Luke 6:38
New King James Version (NKJV)
38 "Give, and it will be given to you: good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be put into your bosom. For with the same measure that you use, it will be measured back to you.”

Grandpa Bob

2011-09-11T19:56:00.007-04:00

Before we went to Idaho I was filled with trepidation over the thought of leaving my sons all day long with a perfect stranger. I committed it to prayer, and waited anxiously for MAF to contact us with the name of our children's sitter. About two weeks before we were supposed to leave for candidacy we received an email informing us that a Mr. Bob Gregory would be caring for our children 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. I was less than happy about this assignment. My first inclination was to ask the Lord, "why?" I had felt betrayed by God, because I had trusted him completely with my children's care and he had allowed an older, MAN to care for my boys. I was not comfortable with this at all. Not that I have anything against men, in fact I respect and admire quite a few of them, but I had never met this man and I had been praying for a nurturing woman.

I had no choice but to trust MAF, to trust Bob Gregory, and to trust my God. Although,I was uncomfortable and had many questions, the Lord did bring a peace and we made our trek west.

Yesterday, I received and email from Bob Gregory, and it summarized the divine assignment and connection our family experienced this summer in Idaho. Grandpa Bob, as we now refer to him, wanted us to know first of all how very much he misses us. Secondly, how much he loves us. He also went on to say that he and his wife have been praying for us continually, and that they want to be devoted, continual supporters of our ministry in Lesotho.

The boys sat quietly listening to Grandpa Bob's words, and many eyes filled with tears. It is hard to define or describe the connection that was made between this man and our family, but I cannot talk about him without referring to what a complete and utter answer to prayer he has been.

You see, he not only watched my boys this summer, he poured life and love into them. They now know the difference between mint and potato crops. Can define foothills, and have seen a 6 ft. fish. He tumbled, chased, and carted my four boys around the greater Boise area with a sweet smile and gentle loving eyes. He, along with my niece Marisa, made it possible for me to do the impossible.

Grandpa Bob's commitment to partner with our ministry has done something else for our family as well. It has shown us first hand how the Lord is assembling our team, not us! Three months ago we did not even know this man, nor could we have ever foreseen the impact he has had on all our lives. Today, he is one of our biggest supporters. God did that. Not Richard. Not Megan. God!

Abe still asks for him. Alex still gets teary eyed talking about he and his family. Aron and Aden are counting the months until we travel back to Idaho to see Grandpa Bob, and I still whisper, "thank you Jesus." Thank you for bringing this extra-ordinary man into our lives. God gives us the desires of our hearts. It may not look the way we think it should. It may not be in our timing, but he is a GREAT God and He always does best.

Feels Like Home to Me

2011-08-30T00:22:00.010-04:00

Today we got back home after spending five days in South Hill, Virginia. We were so excited to be able to meet with a couple pastors, speak at a deacons breakfast, and Richard even had the opportunity to share about our ministry in church yesterday. It was our first time speaking at churches, and we left very encouraged about the people the Lord has been preparing to partner with our family in Lesotho. It was amazing to meet people for the first time and see how excited they were about our ministry. Eager to help in whatever ways possible and soaking up any and all information we had on the topic of mission aviation. It was a great encouragement to us as we begin the ministry partnership phase of our ministry, and a great reminder that the Lord as predetermined what our team will look like. We just have to do the leg work to find ALL of TEAM HARRELL.

While in South Hill I was able to spend time with my dear college friend and reconnect with her family. Richard was able to reconnect with family as well, and our boys were able to spend quality time with first cousins as well as distant cousins.

We arrived home from our first deputation trip EXHAUSTED, but mindful. We are mindful of the fact that this process of discovering our team may be like a great big homecoming. It will have some distress and discomfort, but we are hopeful that finding our partners will mostly feel like coming home to a group of people that is like minded and supportive in every aspect of our ministry. The instant connection that is made with these people transcends words. It is in many ways spiritual...a Divine connection. Those of you who are already part of our team.....We thank you for joining us on our journey to our new home!

Our Website is up and running....

2011-08-23T22:02:00.005-04:00

Hello Friends,
Our website makes donating to our ministry with MAF easier for those of you wishing to do so online. Just click the donate button on www.maf.org/harrell and follow the steps. Thank you to our awesome web design team back at headquarters in NAMPA.

Donating On Line Information

2011-08-21T10:26:00.005-04:00

A FYI regarding donating online via our MAF website
Hello Everyone!

We wanted to give you guys a heads up about the MAF website. They are doing a major update to it right now that should debut in September. Because we were accepted this summer, our web page is not on the website right now. It should show up in September. (Hopefully a little sooner than that!) The website I am referring to is http://www.maf.org/harrell. This website is on our prayer cards, and our business cards.

If you wanted to give online, you can:
1. Go to this website: https://www.maf.org/donate/quick#
(you my highlight the above address, then right click, and chose go to website)
2. Near "Where would you like your donation to go ?"Click on: "Choose a missionary"
3. Choose: "Rich and Megan Harrell"
4. Then choose how much and how often. (Give whatever you feel led to give)
5. Fill out the rest of the form and submit it!

Again, we're sorry it's such a long process. We got accepted right at the time when everything was switching over to new databases and new websites. So bear with us and this process will indeed run more smoothly in time. If you have any questions for us, please feel free to ask us at: rharrell@maf.org and we'll do our best to answer questions. If you'd like to talk with us via phone, please e-mail us and we'll give you our number! We are so excited to talk about our journey and the calling on our lives. In fact, we miss talking about it ALL the time, so please contact us if you have any questions AT ALL!!!

Thank you for your love, prayers, and support. We are so appreciative of TEAM HARRELL!

The people God puts in our lives

2011-08-18T11:38:00.003-04:00

Before I went to Candidacy class in Idaho I had little or no expectations about the people I would meet while at MAF. I gave almost no thought to who these people would be or how they would impact my life. Almost seven weeks later I can honestly say that the people I met, spent time with, and ultimately grew to love have changed me for the better.

The testimonies of the people the Lord has brought to MAF inspires, and transforms lives. I could list individuals from all departments of the home office, to members of my candidacy class who have left foot prints on my heart because of their fierce love of Jesus Christ and the obstacles they have overcome to serve him in every area of their lives. The way these people love is contagious, and I am honored to be loved by them. They will never know the impact they have had on me in this lifetime, but perhaps in the next we will share sweet moments for an eternity.

I am home now and I miss them. I miss their wisdom and insight, but most of all I miss their passion for all things belonging to our Savior. These are people who could have any measure of success in this world, but have chosen to use their skills, intelligence, and compassion to build something that will not turn to vapor. They are building an ETERNAL KINGDOM, and it is AWESOME.

So thank you Sue and Roy, Thank you to all the Daves, thank you Deb and Karlene, Ron, Jean,& Darrell. Thank you Vallie, Nancy, Carol, Joy, Ellie, Tasha, Kristine, Ashley, Ruth, Lisa,both Petes, and both Matts, Kevin, Eric, Doug, Corrine, and many many more. You are an amazing group of people and I am humbled to call you my family.

Mission Accomplished.....well, almost.

2011-07-19T17:31:00.013-04:00

(The above pictures are of our family's reaction right after hearing our assignment)

I remember the first conversation I ever had with my husband in the fall of 1998. We were sitting at a football game at Liberty University, and I was listening intently as he told me of his childhood in South Africa. His eyes flashed and sparkled as he talked of a land so strange and foreign to me, but so known and familiar to himself. His love for this place and the earnestness and passion with which he talked about the topography, weather, and people were beautiful to watch. To fall in love with Richard Harrell was to fall in love with his Africa.

And fall in love I did, but I never knew that as much as Richard loves Africa, he loves missions. We had been married for nine years before I ever knew that he first committed his life to becoming a missionary when he was only 8-years-old. February 21, 1988 Richard came forward at a missions conference to publicly say, "Lord, send me. I will go." Even through all the years of training to be a missionary pilot he never told me that he had made this commitment. I believe, fully it was because he wanted the Lord to complete a work in me, unbiased by his own personal call.

Yesterday, July 19, 2011 over 23-years after that shy little boy stepped forward publicly, Richard accomplished his commitment. Today, he officially became a pilot/mechanic missionary with MAF. In the completion of this full circle moment Richard and I were also assigned to Africa. We do not know which country in Africa we will serve, but it does not matter.

Now we begin the ministry partnership portion of our journey to life among the African people. Please pray with us as we continue to navigate this difficult and winding path my husband set out on so long ago.

"For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus." Philipians 1:6

Peace in the Mountains

2011-07-13T17:55:00.020-04:00

When I left my home in North Carolina a week and a half ago I was overcome by the emotion of turning the page on a hugely important chapter in my life. That chapter tells the story of the births of two of my sons, the stretching and strengthening of my marriage, the birth of beautiful friendships, and many more of life's events over the past six years.

On departure day as our family was about to pull out, I found myself having a very difficult time leaving my home. I kept walking around it under the guise of last minute checks, but my husband saw my delay for what it was. He gently came up to me and nudged me to the door. "It's time now, Megan, this is it, let go." With that understanding and kindness came the tears, but I was bolstered by the strength of my husband. We walked hand in hand out of a comfortable life straight into a life of discomfort and uncertainty.

Since that day I have been on the receiving end of more GRACE, and PEACE than I had ever thought imaginable. The car ride itself went amazingly well. Along the long drive we were able to bask in the amazing beauty of God's workmanship in nature. God was in the magnificence of the mountains of South Dakota and Wyoming. When the boys needed a break; the perfect park appeared, or the most interesting place would pop up on a sign along the road. Both Richard and I whispered many times along the long road west, "thank you for that Lord."

Here at MAF the GRACE continues to wash over my family. My human fears, doubts, and worldly expectations creep in reminding me of how much I need to rely on my relationship with Jesus. But I am slowly learning to finally let go, and just as soon as I do HE is right there with the calming peace.

We are currently waiting to be told where in the world our family will live and serve, and I am the least fearful I have ever been in my life. I could be assigned to a place where the color of my skin and my belief in Jesus Christ are grounds to be shot on the spot, but I am not afraid. It is CRAZY! It makes no sense, but it is true.

Today I fully expected to walk into the Candidacy Committee meeting making demands on what I wanted out of our geographical assignment. Instead, I found myself saying, "I want to be where God wants our family more than anything else." The most amazing part is that I actually meant it.

I am not a perfect person. I have flaws too great to count. I am stubborn, impatient, proud, and much more. I have made horrible mistakes in my past. I have been chewed up and spat out by what this world has to offer, but God still cares enough about me to continue making me into somebody more like His Son. My journey to MAF has taken me 12 years. Twelve years of wrestling with God, my husband, but mostly myself. Today I am here. I am here not because of any singular act of my own other than surrender.

I will have to continually fight the urge to hold on to a finite life, but I am currently in awe of the peace that accompanies letting go.

Isaiah 55:12

"You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands."

2011-06-12T15:59:00.002-04:00

Father Abraham had many sons.

2011-06-12T13:21:00.027-04:00

I love the story of Abram/Abraham. I always have been in awe of the miraculous faith of an ordinary man, and the courage it took him to take action on his faith. In fact, I named my youngest son after the biblical character thinking the shared name would somehow infuse him with the same amount of strength of character as this ancient man...or at least a measure of it.

I often think about Abraham and all that God asked of him, and admire his fortitude. As a mother of four boys I often ask myself if I would be able to sacrifice one of my sons if the Lord asked it of me. What would I do when God said, "Go," and it meant personal sacrifice greater than my sons or I have ever known? We don't want to leave our home, our family, our friends, our pets. We don't want to say, "goodbye." But we've been asked to.

Three weeks from today we will take the greatest step of faith that any of us has ever taken. We will pack up our home for the summer, load our car, and our family of six will head from the east cost of this great country to Nampa, Idaho. It will take our family over a week to arrive at our destination, but for us...the real journey begins after we arrive.

I have been a stay-at-home mother for eight and a half years, homeschooling for three of the last of these years. As a rule Richard and I don't often leave our boys. Not that it is a personal conviction for us, we just are happier together. But now I am faced with leaving them for five weeks while we receive the necessary training to become full time missionaries with MAF. It is a notion that causes me anxiety, and fear. Both Richard and I have lost a great deal of sleep over leaving our boys in the hands of others. You see, for us we do not fear disease, violence, poverty, or death. No, we fear doing the wrong thing as it relates to rearing our sons. So, needless to say the decision to enter into a lifestyle that means periods of extended separation from our sons has NOT come easily.

Over the past few weeks I have been seriously doubting my ability to step forward in blind faith. Weak with worry and fear, Richard and I layed in bed last night and began to pray for guidance from the Lord, and protection for our boys. We prayed into the night for each of them individually, and then for us as a family. We prayed in earnest that if we are to continue down this unforeseen road, that God would give us the peace that each of us would recognize easily.

And peace came in the morning. Not with the sunrise, but during the Sunday School lesson I was teaching at church. I had glanced at the lesson and prepared a snack and some fun games...but I had not really read the words. As I read them to the class I could hardly believe my own mouth was forming the words. The lesson read, "Abram lived in a nice place named Haran. He lived there with his entire family-his dad, bis brothers,and is wife Sarai. One day God spoke to Abram and said, "Leave this home you know, and the friends you love, and go to the place I will show you. You will help people and I will bless you."

Wow! I've known this story for years, but it was as though I was hearing it for the very first time. The parallels to our lives were uncanny. We live near Richard's parents, his brother, and my sister. We have grown to love our home here in Concord and the people in it. We love our friends, we love our families, but we have been called to have the faith of Abram. We don't know what country we will travel to, or what people group we will help, but we have to have faith the God is a good leader. We have to chose to have the faith that this good leader will bless our obedience, and protect our sons on the alter we are now placing them on.

How better for our boys to learn the faith of Abram?

The Promise in Pain

2011-05-12T11:31:00.000-04:00

I often have asked myself about my personal tolerance for pain? Am I a tough person? I have wondered if when push came to shove what my threshold of pain would be, at what point would I break?

I come from a long line of pain tolerant women. Women who really knew not only physical pain, but also emotional, and spiritual pain of the worst kind. So, I am perplexed by the notion of what it would take to stare pain directly in the eye until it subsides. How does one hold her ground? Keep her feet from slipping, and move forward when her body rejections any notion other than curling into a fetal position?

I have been faced with relative aches and pain over the years but nothing like I am now facing. Over the past couple of weeks my body has turned on itself and me. Thus, offering me the opportunity to examine this concept of pain to the fullest of its breadth.

Sitting alone for 7 hours in a dark, cold, hospital room with no phone, no t.v., and experiencing the worst pain in my life including the birth of four children, things have a way of becoming really basic, really quickly. I was alone with my pain. The i.v. medications were not working, the doctors did not know what was happening to me, and I felt completely depleted. Nobody could stop this for me, I had to breathe through it just as I had been breathing for 7 days prior to ending up in that hospital room. I was alone with my pain and the fear I was edging closer and closer to the threshold where I could no longer take it began to grip me. I was tethered to my bed by an i.v. and out of reach of a button to summon the nurses help. I was trapped, angry, and in pain.

It was in these frantic moments I was completely stripped bare and began to understand for the first time that my tolerance of pain was irrelevant. My complete and utter dependence on the only living, breathing God to help me draw breath in the midst of that pain, on the other hand....was of the utmost relevance. I came to find I was not alone at all in that stark room. In fact, I believe for the first time in my life I was in perfect communion with the one who knows me best.

It has been four days since my pain piqued in the emergency room, and I would love to proclaim a miraculous healing. That is not my testimony of pain. Mine is a testimony of a pain that continues to linger, but also one of a Helper that makes it impossible not to count myself fortunate to have experienced His unmistakable presence amidst my pain.

I've also have begun to let go of my preoccupation with strength. I am beginning to see my grandmothers not as supernatural beings that stared pain down and came out victorious, but rather as woman who knew what to cling to when life's storms hit. I can envision them holding their lifeless babies in their earthly arms, while being held collectively by heavenly arms that helped them each take the next breath amidst her pain.

I am so grateful that God has shown me this truth through physical pain rather than through the unimaginable loss my grandmothers faced. I pray to God that I may never experience that particular pain, but I am more confident now that if that day were to come for me; that not mine, but OUR pain tolerance would be sufficient for a purpose that I don't have to understand. I am able to accept that now, as much as I want my pain to back down, I am able to give up on the notion of my own personal resistance to pain. But together, with my Creator, I am finding that we have yet to find the limit of what we are able to tolerate. Something in me thinks WE probably NEVER will.

"PAIN removes the veil; it plants the flag of truth within the fortress of a rebel soul." --The Problem of Pain---C.S. Lewis

God Hath Not Promised

"God hath not promised skies always blue
Flower strewn pathways, all our lives through;
God hath not promised sun without rain,
Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.

But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labour, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing kindness, undying love.

God hath not promised we shall not know
Toil and temptations, trouble and woe;
He hath not told us we shall not bear
Many a burden, many a care.

But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labour, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing kindness, undying love.

God hath not promised smooth roads and wide,
Swift, easy travel, needing no guide;
Never a mountain, rocky and steep,
Never a river turbid and deep.

But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labour, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing kindness, undying love."

I promise you...

2010-04-23T21:06:00.008-04:00

My son, my boy, my little man,
I promise you that I'll hold your hand.
I will be there right by your side,
Wherever this takes us, I'll be your guide.

You are a treasure, so pure and sweet,
There is no stranger that you meet.
You love this world and all its joys,
You're an expert at knowing everything's noise.

My child you will never be left out,
I know this fact without a doubt.
Your wings will take flight and then you'll soar,
There is so much for you in store.

HE made you perfect for a plan,
A plan he has for no other man.
I cherish the day you came to me,
I'll be your champion through eternity.

MRH

Aden's diamonds

2010-02-18T13:51:00.011-05:00

Up until this past Christmas my engagement ring and wedding band have been the only two pieces of jewelery I have ever owned. I am not a girlie girl, so it has never been an issue for me, and considering my job description it has always seemed down right silly to spend money on jewelery. I have never even really had a desire for nice diamonds, bracelets, or earrings. I don't even have my ears pierced. But when I opened a small package from Richard this past December... I am not going to lie, I really liked what was inside. The delicate diamond necklace set in white gold was shiny and I fell in love immediately. I surprised myself in my affinity for something I have never really wanted. I knew that it was something that Richard had worked hard to get and the gesture was precious to me. So over the past couple of months I have worn it a lot. I seldom take it off, but the other night I did take it off and laid it on my bathroom vanity.

Today Alex and Aden came running up to me with sickly, white faces. Alex quickly blurted out the details of how Aden had picked up my necklace and was playing with it. Alex then stepped in, like he always does, and tried to get it away from Aden. They struggled and the necklace, well, it ended up down the bathroom drain.

I felt immediately sick. I only knew that I could not deal with them right then because I was angry, so I sent them to chairs. I let them sit for about thirty minutes before I felt in control enough to approach the topic with them. I felt very wronged by those little boys and I spared nothing in letting them know it. Most of my heavy handedness came down on Aden, but I felt completely justified in making him feel horrible for touching something valuable that did not belong to him, and for losing it.

After I got done scolding him. I told him to get down and go play. He walked past me into the kitchen and then turned into a puddle. Aden was sobbing, and curdled up into a little ball on the floor. It was the kind of crying that a mother immediately recognizes as honest, pure. I went to him, realizing for the first time that I had been more wrong than he had been. I was wrong in the way I dealt with the loss of a material object. I was wrong to let something of NO eternal value matter so much to me.

I asked him to calm down and tell me why he was crying not realizing what I was asking for. Through sobs his words cut like a surgical knife. "But do you still love me mommy?" Feeling all the air leave my lungs, I answered, "I still love you Aden, I will always love you, nothing could make me stop loving you." Aden turned his chubby little face up toward mine, and looking straight into my eyes he asked,"but do you love me more than your necklace?" I could not believe how wrong I had been, and how honest my son's assessment of the situation was.

I have always prided myself in not being a materialistic person. I have never really sought after making sacrifices so I could have more stuff. I was just not raised that way. My father in me has always kept me very humble, or so I thought. Today I learned that I was acting like a materialistic person. I somehow made my four-year-old feel that a diamond necklace mattered more to me than him. I apologized to Aden profusely and he, in his choppy little voice just said, "it's okay I forgive you and nothing is as important as God anyway." Maybe someday I will be as wise as my sons.

Matthew 6:20 "But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal."

2009-12-28T20:24:00.012-05:00

Christmas Eve has come and gone. Christmas day has followed along the same path, and even though I know it cannot remain Christmas forever, I cannot help but be sad it is over for this year.

This Christmas came with great anticipation for our family. We celebrated for over a month. Using it as an excuse to think about anything but the fact that I was badly injured, and unable to do so much of what I always do. We opened our envelopes diligently each night, (well, most of them), watched the Christmas videos together, made the cookies, listened to the songs, read the books, took the photos, picked out the perfect Christmas tree; then decorated it as a family, attended holiday plays, and celebrations.

We were able for the first time in many years, and for the first time in most of our sons lives to do things which were impossible before, impossible because there has always been a small baby on Christmas in our home. We have had nine Christmases as husband and wife and only our first was spent without a baby. Alex arrived only 2 months after our first Christmas together, and we have hit the ground running as parents.

This year Richard and I were well aware that this would be our last Christmas with a baby in the house. Abe will be 18-months-old tomorrow, and by next year he will resemble a small boy more than an infant. So without ever verbalizing it to the other, Richard and I both dug deep to make Christmas 2009 extra special even if crutches, pain, stress, and sleep deprivation were large factors in the daily equation. Things in our house never go as planned, and this Christmas would probably have looked tragic to the outside world. It is never done neatly, or quietly at our house. There is always a lot of chaos. Our Christmases are not tied up in pretty bows, but are done with a whole lot of love and latitude.

I am proud of us for sticking it out this year. We had some bad days in December, but for the most part I think we will look back on this month, of this year, as a magical one. One in which my sons were able to see the true nature of God’s love played out in front of them as their father gently cared for their hurting mother. One in which my boys witnessed their proud mother forced into letting go of her grasp on what she has always controlled and allow others to step in and help her. They have seen the beauty of the body of Christ working together in harmony as neighbors, friends, and family have taken care of our family. They have seen the values of patience and perseverance.

The boys prayed almost nightly that their mommy would walk on Christmas day. That did not happen. But I have to believe that the Lord is working an even better Christmas miracle in the hearts of their mother and themselves. As we see not our will, but His be done. In not our way, but His! If our family comes out of this holiday season internalizing this scriptural truth, then it will have been a miraculous Christmas in the purest sense of the term. That miracle promises to have more of a lasting impact than any of our parental efforts toward a memorable Christmas thus far!

Our Christmas Play

2009-12-13T19:40:00.008-05:00

Birthing four boys in five years is a cinch. Raising them well, however, is not. It is difficult from the first wake up cry in the morning until the last goodnight squeal at night; difficult, but totally doable and totally worth it each and every day. My case in point….

At the beginning of December I took 25 envelopes and filled each one with a fun, easy, free, evening family time activities. So far we have been treated to hot chocolates, Christmas stories, a fire in the fire pit, a Christmas movie, and walk through a local church's live Bethlehem. Tonight the paper in envelope number 13 said that we were to hear the Christmas story from the Bible then act it out. Richard read the story from Luke. We sorted out what characters we would play, and got out the cameras. It was not a beautiful play with great props, but it was magical regardless. Aron at the age of 3, and with the condition of being male, was insistent upon being Mary. Aden was Joseph, Alex a Sheppard, Richard was the camera man/Angel/narrator, and I was all three wise men rolled into one. We had intended on Abe being baby Jesus, but he was just not cooperative, so a stuffed Elmo was cast in the part.

It was disorganized and hard to follow, but it was so much fun to see the boys get into their roles. The towels over their heads, their shy little faces saying the short and simple lines, but they were totally getting it. Aron did so well. If I were to see a million Christmas plays I do not believe that one of them will ever be as sweet to me as the one held in our living room this evening. We closed our play by singing a couple songs. Aron belted them out dutifully and beautifully with an angelic face.

I am well aware that it is hard to believe I enjoy all aspects of being a mother to my sons, but I do. There are times when it is insane, and I feel insane, however, I am so grateful that the Lord has placed this highest calling upon my heart in such a definitive and clear fashion. Some days I do not do it all well, but I am always glad I showed up and tried. Because if I had not put in the time and effort, if I had not pushed myself harder, I firmly believe I would miss the treasure that is the lesson of it all. Each day I feel myself being broken down, so that I can be built up to be more like Christ. A kind and gentle God knows that I need four little men pushing me right through my limits, and into my bliss each and every day!

Birthday Balloon

2009-11-11T11:42:00.007-05:00

Yesterday my third son turned three years old. The day was filled with attempts on his father’s part to make the day memorable, and attempts on my part to connect with a son who at times seems so distant from me. His father stayed up late into the night planning party games, and decorating the house with balloons and streamers. We both really wanted Aron to know that this was his special day, but more importantly we wanted him to know that he is special to us.

Perhaps it is because he seems to be so skeptical of the latter that we really tried to break through to him, to let him know that he was given to us by God three years ago on that day! That we love him, that he is important to us, and that he is special.

Immobilized by a broken knee, I spent much of the day reaching out for him. I desired to grab him, pull him into my lap and shower him with love and kisses. Every time I reached out for him he pulled away and grunted. So I settled on verbal praises, which were also met with a furrowed brow, and verbal spurts of anger. I would say, “Happy Birthday Aron Elijah.” He would counter, “no, it not my birthday,” with a face and tone that actually made me doubt myself for the briefest of moments.

I would yell out to him from where I was sitting, leg propped up, in pain. “I love you Aron Elijah.” Every desperate statement simply brought, “I not love you,” from my son. Every NOT took my breath away, and every, I held promise that the not would have fallen from the phrase.

In a desperate attempt to show him our history together, I got out foam poster board and taped up pictures of his first three years with us. This too met with his distrust, furrowed brow, and opposition. My heart sank when I showed it to him and he informed me blankly that it was not him in those pictures, but Abe, perhaps Alex, or Aden but not Aron Elijah.

So the party guests came and went, the cake eaten, the gifts unwrapped. During the party I could not help but wonder if any of this mattered at all to him. If he realized that all we were doing was out of our love for him. He seemed disconnected from it all. Bounding around from one thing to the next with no sign that he was getting it, that he was seeing how much he is loved! I went to bed discouraged.

In the middle of the night we were woken by Aron crying next to our bed. I convinced Richard to let him lay by me because I love being near him while he sleeps. I can whisper my love into his ear, kiss him, pray for him, and simply touch him without any resistance. Richard laid Aron beside me and after a few minutes I reached out for his hand. I slid my left hand under his right, hoping his would encircle mine, but it never did. Instead it lay limp across my hand as if I were not even there. I fought back the tears, the comparisons to my other sons at the age of three, the fear of what we face together.

I decided to pray for my Aron instead. It was in the middle of my prayer I heard a noise come from his left hand. I investigated with my right hand and found clenched in his fist a popped birthday balloon. I spent the next hour watching my son toss and turn, sleeping lightly, but never letting up on his grip of that birthday balloon. It had mattered to him! He did get the message, or perhaps he just liked the feel of the rubber balloon. I will never be sure, but after another hour had passed he woke me up pressing the balloon into my hand. “You hold my balloon mommy.”

Entrusted with this small, squished piece of rubber I finally felt relief. He did not need, nor want so much of what I had tried to do for him that day, but he needed somebody to hold something that was important to him so he could finally relax. I promised him right then and there that I would always be there for what he needs from me, even if it is menial, silly, or not what I had planned.

When I turned over in my sleep last night, I felt the balloon in my hand and went to lay it on my night stand, but for some reason I just could not let go of it. It seemed too great a trust to have broken with my son, and too great an opportunity to show him my love!

My midnight madness

2009-10-07T00:30:00.003-04:00

It is in these hours,
In the darkness of this night.
I no longer have the power,
And you have won the fight.

In the stillness of this place,
You-winged thoughts, take flight.
In the silence of this space,
You orchestrate my night.

It is in this blindness,
You-my thoughts bring sight.
You carry with you kindness,
As you usher in the light.

Megan R. Harrell
10-06-09
12:33 a.m

My Personal Mountain

2009-09-17T12:02:00.019-04:00

When choosing names for our sons it was always important to us that their meanings be significant. I named Aron, Aron, because I thought it was a strong name and because I liked the meaning. Aron is the Hebrew spelling of Aaron, and translates as, "light". Recently, I was looking at names and their meanings and discovered that Aron has another meaning. It also means, "mountain." I cannot help but see the irony in naming our son so appropriately. Apart from his light, almost white hair, he has proven to be thus far-- my own personal mountain.

Aron from his first breath has seemed uncomfortable in this world. As a newborn I knew right away that this boy was going to make his mark in this world by force. His first three years with us have reaffirmed this notion, and this notion has never been quite as evident as it was last night.

Richard and I took the boys to the mall. The plan was Rich would take the older boys to get a treat while I took Abe to look for shoes. As soon as Aron sensed his father and I wanted him to go in one direction, he immediately wanted to go in the opposite. Defying all logic, and reason, he insisted on giving up a treat in order to come with me. I honestly believe for no other purpose than to foil his parents' plans. So Richard and I set off in opposite directions. I with Aron and Abe in toe.

Aron made it to the furthest most part of the mall really well. Running around gibbering, and playing with his brother. Then IT happened. The one thing I have feared in 6 plus years of parenting, happened. The mother of all temper tantrums, in which I was completely unable to reason with him or physically win. In public, in full view of all prying eyes, my parenting skills laid raw for the world to see.

It started in Bass Pro Shop, in the very back. Complete anarchy. Screaming that would make glass shatter, (in fact I thought for a split second the huge fish tank would). I tried to talk to him, but his eyes just shut, face red, wet, head thrown back, and then his entire body on the floor. I then tried, the mommy is leaving with or with out you technique. He called my bluff. It was now clear I had met my match, and any help was at the other end of the mall; completely oblivious of my plight. I had to do this. I had to regain control, had to not lose my other toddler, and get us safely to the car.

I made it to the door of the store, with Aron screaming at me the entire way to, "Stop!" Then, overcome with emotion, he slipped and fell. Abe by this time is squirming and wanting out of my arms. I can only imagine how desperate I must have looked, but I tried to calm my face and retrieve my fallen child. By the time I had gotten to him, he was in a stranger's arms. A tall, business man had picked up my son and looked as though he wanted to help me, but as though he honestly feared the now possessed child I had come to claim as my very own.

I thought my only way of gaining any ground now, was to just walk. To make sure he was in a safe distance behind me, but to just keep going. This worked for a while, then he figured me out and stopped dead in his tracks. He has never stopped screaming at this point. The same repetitive screams that would make onlookers believe he was mentally challenged. I had no choice but to pick him up with brute force. Now carrying both he and Abe in my arms, I trudged onward....Then he threw himself to the ground in one smooth acrobatic move. Thump. he hit hard. I grabbed his hand and began to pull him forward. We gained some ground until the ramp.

He somehow reached out and got hold of the hand rails along the ramp. Yanked himself free of myself and wrapped his arms and legs around the rail. Hanging like a rabid monkey from the rail, he continued to scream. I saw people's disbelief, I saw their judgements of me as a mother flicker across their faces, but I had more to worry about. Is this really who my son is? Could he possibly have this fire within him, and if so what does this mean for his future? I could feel the tears welling up, but I pushed them back. He looked pathetic, he needed me. I went to him and forced his hand from the rail one finger at a time. I got a firm hold of him and hoisted him up into my right arm. Struggling and fighting the entire time to his father, and then screaming the entire way home in the car, my Aron was exhausted.

At home when I went to get him out of his car seat. I heard a faint sound from him. Could it possibly be?? Was he really aware of what he had done, enough to feel shame? Then again, head bowed, eyes down, I heard him say it...there was no mistaking it this time. "Sorry mommy!" My heart broke in two, and all anger dissolved.

That night I tucked him in and prepared to leave as I do every night. For this is my child that has never allowed me to rock him, never allowed me to lay with him, and pushes away from hugs. With heavy eyes shut he said, "No leave me mommy, lay right there!" Now the tears were flowing freely. He slipped his little hand under my neck and pulled me closer. I laid next to my baby, with my head on his tiny heart and listened to the rapid beats slow steadily. He was asleep now. Finally at peace. His face relaxed.

As I laid there and looked at him I could not help but praise God for my mountain. My greatest challenge in life thus far. How much this mountain has taught me..He lays my own flaws open for me to see. How often have I treated my Heavenly Father the way my Aron had just treated me. How often I have disobeyed, and thought my way is better? How often do I feel shame in the presence of my God because of my own actions? Now my son has offered me the opportunity to feel a fraction of the pain my Father in heaven must feel when I behave contrary to His word.

So today I am thankful for the mountain I climb with Aron Elijah. The way is steep, long, and the path is narrow, but I cling to the belief that at the summit of this mountain the view will be glorious.

Long Time No Blog

2009-09-16T17:08:00.005-04:00

Okay it has been about two years since I have even visited my own blog, so I am well aware that the words I now type may never be seen by eyes other than my own. I had actually forgotten all about this blog. I started it a few years back. My friend just posted pictures of my boys on her blog and it was also a blogspot account, which jerked my dusty memory....and here I am, typing away as though somebody else actually cares about this little chain of events.

So here is where I share my deepest thoughts, and my wisdom with the world....Funny! As a former journalist I had always thought my audience would be so much bigger and much more impressive. (Just in case anyone is actually reading this...please take no offense)!

If some people's live's turn out as they had planned it, then of these privilidged, I am not one. Here I sit..with screams as a backdrop, on my home computer, blogging! Was I not meant to be a great journalist? That was the plan. My reality has been much different.

One planned and three surprise pregnancies later....I am now a mom, and not much more. So far from anything notable that I can barely even recall the word's proper spelling. Right now, in this very instance I have one son yelling, "I'M done!" Waiting for me to wipe his behind. One son carrying on a one way conversation I have now converted into white noise. One son, just left the house, and should be brought back in out of the rain. And there is a 14-month-old somewhere making shrills that have had me on edge for most of the day.

It is the latest installment of the above that has this stay-at-home mom so discouraged today. He was to be my sweet one. My easy one. Surely after all of the falls, temper tantrums, will filled show downs. I deserved ONE CHILD that was like the rest of the children in this world....

Well, again my plans and my reality have not squared up very well. For the past week I have been coming to terms with the fact that my baby will not be an easy child. That he too, will defy me, climb onto tables, run away from me when I call him, and scream endlessly to be unbuckled from anything that immobilizes him for more than 30 seconds. He will be just like his brothers. Exhausting, in every sense of the term.

My boys don't sit still. I let them watch very little T.V., but when they do, they are moving, talking, or fighting the entire time. Life is an interactive experience for them. They feel, smell, hear, taste, and ingest it ALL! I love this for them, but it also causes my heart to ache for them. As a mother I know these exhaustive qualities will one day give way to grown up heartaches for men, trying to make sense of a world in which plans often do not become ones reality. Will my boys who take in so much hurt more than others who seem to be happy watching? Do I wish for them to watch instead of being interactive partakers in life?

For now, I am jerked back into my current reality. Far from any newsrooms, or police scanners...But only a few short steps away from preparing four little boys the best I can for a world in which they must participate.

Beach Baby, Beach Baby....

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WHERE DID MY BABY GO?

2007-09-04T22:16:00.000-04:00

Alex has started asking to help out with chores around the house. The day before we left for the beach we had way too much to do in way too little time. He offered to help us out by mowing the yard all by himself. For years, since he could sit up, he has mowed with Richard. First on top of Richard's shoulders, then he graduated to walking just infront of his dad and pushing on the lower bar of the mower. We were not sure what to say to his offer to help, but we thought we should not squelch his enthusiasm to work, and help. We said, "ok", he ran in the house and returned with long pants and his rain boots on. Richard started the mower, and off he went. The above picture was taken a full hour after the mower was initially started. We watched in awe as our little man pushed, pulled, struggled, sweated, and made his way around the back yard. We could not help but be struck by the in your face illustration of how time has almost silently snuck up on us and transformed our baby into a little boy!

Tomorrow he embarks on a whole new journey as that boy. He will go to school for the very first time. We both have been reduced to tears many times over the past week. He will out of the blue say, "Mom I think I am not ready to be away from you yet, maybe I will try school when I am older." I caught myself litterally holding myself down to the chair I was sitting in to keep myself from running to him in complete and utter agreement. It seems such a big step for a mother and a son who have barely left one another's sides. Yet, it seems so necessary for him to become the Alex he must. Richard perhaps put it best he said that he is so sad but at the same time he is so ready for him to go out into this world because he is just simply so proud of him.

So with a proud father and a prayerful mother our little man starts his educational journey tomorrow. It seems like so much more than just that to us, but perhaps this first day of school just serves as a marker that it goes too fast, and as an encouragement to keep absorbing it all as we try each and every day we have with them.

OUR BABY

2007-06-02T20:49:00.001-04:00

He changes so quickly. Almost 7 months now... he is sitting up all the time, has two teeth, and his biggest development is in the sleeping department. We are very proud to announce that baby Aron has been sleeping all the way through the night (10-11 hours), for a little over a week. We are so proud, and mommy feels so much better with all the new found sleep. He makes our first child that has done this with out weeks (months) of torment on our part. He is now sleeping in his very own room and seems to be loving his space. He is eating like a bull. We say every day how much bigger he looks. 12 month clothes are now fitting him nicely. He jumped right past the 6-9 month bin his brothers handed down. Most of all, we are so impressed by his sweet, gentle personality that seems to be surfacing. He loves to be squeezed, and seems as though he would crawl inside us if it were possible. Aron brings us such joy so we thought we'd pass some of it on....

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OUR NIGHTLY ROUTINE

2007-05-04T22:45:00.000-04:00

Here at the Harrell house we go through the same routine every night. It is a long routine and on a good night it takes an hour and a half. Bedtime snacks, tubby races, tubbies, jammies, teeth, storytime, water. You get the picture. Night after night, week after week, Richard and I enjoy this familiar routine with our little men.

I know that it may seem ridiculous to go through the lengthy process, and there are times when even I think it is getting a bit long, but it seems to be a time that our entire family loves. I catch each of us counting on it, even little Aron has started squeeling with delight when he hears the bath water running and Aden always goes to pick out a book right after he is dressed.

After a particularly hard day our nightly routine always serves as a calming balance, a reminder that things are going to be okay, that things are actually more than okay---that they are pretty wonderful.

Aron is usually the first to drift away. Sometimes he stays up later, and we revel in time alone with our baby, but most nights he enters his deep slumber first. He looks so old lately, but I love it that he is not.

I still rock Aden and when I have the energy I rock him until he is asleep in my arms, and there are some nights when I sit and just hold him sleeping heavily on my lap. He hardly fits in it anymore, but until his little face can't fit just perfectly into the curve of my neck I am going to rock my Aden. When I am an old woman I want that memory.

I still lie with Alex. He is too old, I know, but it is our time. That child's thoughts as he drifts off to sleep are priceless. I love feeling that little ball of energy begin to relax in my arms, then jerk several times before it gloriously stops moving and sinks heavily into the bed. I love looking at his innocent little face, and watching his little hands twitch. Before I leave him I always kiss him all over his face and whisper, "I love you," and without fail, no matter how tired, no matter what has transpired that day-I always, always, always, hear a faint, "me too mom." It still makes me catch my breath, because it is so pure.

That is why Richard and I go through our nightly routine no-matter-what. It is in those little moments. Our routine yields so many of those moments night after night, week after week, year after year. We are convinced that when it is all said and done those moments will have been some of the best of our entire lives.

Alex's Dream

2007-04-29T21:02:00.001-04:00

Today when we were on our way to pick Alex up from Sunday school the teacher stopped us in the hallway and asked us if Alex is our son. Both Richard and I said, "Yes!" both wondering what OUR son had done to make his mark on his teacher this week and hoping the mark was a positive one. The teacher smiled and put her hand to her heart and began to tell us how sweet our Alex is, and how he had given her chills in class. She told us that they were discussing Joseph and his dreams...they were learning about future dreams and she asked the children to tell her what they dreamed of being when they grow up. The children went around the room saying the occupations that they wanted to one day have....The teacher said that when it came to Alex he said, "I want to be a good husband and an to save animals when I grow up!" She asked him to repeat his answer because she could not believe that what she had just heard.

Our Easter

2007-04-12T22:03:00.000-04:00

We spent Easter with my sisters, brother, and their families. I believe this is the first picture taken of our completed family

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Aron's first Easter!

2007-04-12T21:56:00.000-04:00

The Rossman girls and the Harrell boys.

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Amy and I free of any and all primping here. I love it that we look like sisters though!!!

2007-04-12T21:51:00.000-04:00

Aron and Jack. They speak for themselves.

2007-04-12T21:48:00.000-04:00

My sister Marita and her son Jack. Jack is only 2 weeks older than Aron. His red hair, blue eyes, and fair skin are a trip in his very dark colored family.

2007-04-12T21:45:00.000-04:00

Sam and Mary Beth Price. She is due to have her baby any day! Mary Beth looks every bit as fantastic in person as she does in this picture. We continue to await the arrival of Raegan Elizabeth Price.

2007-04-12T21:42:00.000-04:00

Tim, Amy, Deanna, Katherine and Emma Rossman. When I turned to this picture I was struck how all of the sudden the Rossman family looks grown up. No babies here, but very beautiful, sweet, little ladies.

Happy Easter Gram

2007-04-05T12:50:00.000-04:00

I love Easter. I always get excited this time of year. The smells of spring, the warmer weather, the impending Easter celebration always are cause for a little pause in deep breathing on my part. For the past several years these things without fail also cause tears to flow as they always bring to mind Grandma Green. Every year she made Easter so special. It is amazing how some ham, rolls, and chocolate bunnies, can somehow blaze an entire person's exsistence in your mind and heart. I think it was Grandma's consistency in the things that she did for us growing up that has made her memory so lasting. Year after year, the $5 Easter money, the chips no matter what-even though there was too much food, the jelly beans, the basketball on T.V. It all is Easter to me. Every Easter since she has been gone seems to fall short. I have tried hard for Grandma's sake, but at the end of the day it is Grandma that is missing. I can recreate her traditions, but the person is not there. She was so much more than the bunnies, and the rolls. Grandma--the person made Easter so special then, and she continues to make it special even after her death. I love Easter, and I love that it makes me remember my Grandma so vividly. May those memories never fade. Thank you for them, and Happy Easter Gram!

Biblical Alexisms

2007-04-01T16:20:00.000-04:00

I thought I would share some recent Alex stories. He keeps us on our toes, and in this particular area we are thrilled that he does.

He recently has been very into Bible stories. He has been wanting to hear them and has been asking a lot of questions. The other day I saw him lying over baby Aron and whispering to him. I couldn't hear what he was saying...but he ran his hands over the baby's face, jumped up and with a big smile said, "There mom, I have cured Aron!" Later that day he was talking to Aron again and the baby spit up. Alex looked very defeated. "Awe, man mom, Aron just puked. I guess I did not cure him. It wasn't a miracle afterall!" He really said, "afterall."

After church today he said, "Hey Dad you know that Jonah was eaten by a sperm whale?" Richard asked why he thought Jonah was eaten by that particular species. Alex answered, "Because the whale had teeth in the pictures, and other whales don't have teeth."

Recently he was trying to figure out the terms of his crimes and punishments...he said, "Mom I have to obey you and Dad, but you guys have to obey God."

I had lost my cool with the boys and after I had calmed down I went to Alex's room to apologize and to try and talk with him about the situation. I was explaining to him that there is only one mommy and that there are three little boys, and that I am alone and cannot do everything all at the same time. He just looked at me with a so what look and said, "Mom but you were not alone God is always with you!" Talk about bringing you a bit of perspective.

Best Friends Continued ?

2007-03-20T20:14:00.000-04:00

Nathan Daniel and our Aron met this past week. They know little of the friendship that their mothers' share, nor how special it was for their mothers to see them together. I am sure that I speak for my friend Jen when I say we would count many prayers anwered for our sons if they one day turn out to share the same friendship she and I know.

PURPOSE AND PONDERINGS

2007-03-09T17:14:00.000-05:00

I have taken an idea from my friend Becky Perez and have created a new blog to allow those who are interested in our family to come seek us out. This way those of you who are not interested will not be bombarded by photos of our growing boys. We are just so proud of our little men and want to share them with those of you who at times seem so far away. Perhaps, I am just trying to document the milestones for myself, as it seems they come and go so quickly. We have just finished celebrating Alex's 4th Birthday, and his conversations tell us that he gets just about whatever is thrown his direction and he is ready to take on the world. Aden has let us into his world with a new found conversation of his own, and what a world it is!!! We just marked his 18 month birthday. He is beginning to take pride in his role as brother, and we are discovering what a good friend he intends to be to both his big and little brothers. Aron will turn 4 months in a couple days! He too has hit another milestone by rolling over, and his first teeth are just about to break the gum. None, of these happenings are very monumental, but to us they serve as nagging reminders to hold our boys a little longer, squeeze them a little tighter, to sing just one more bedtime song, and to rock them as long as time or they will allow.

So if you like....come blog with us!

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Bedtime!

2007-03-09T17:02:00.000-05:00

Our Aussies!

2007-03-09T17:00:00.000-05:00

Alex fishing!

2007-03-08T19:33:00.000-05:00

Our Aden is indeed Daddy's Boy! He is as attached to Richard as he appears to be in this picture.

2007-03-06T14:44:00.000-05:00

Aden in his first snow!

2007-03-06T14:40:00.000-05:00

Aron is a happy happy boy

2007-03-06T14:37:00.000-05:00

Aron and Alexander: Aron is 3 months here Alex almost 4!!

Our Aron

2007-03-06T14:30:00.000-05:00

Simply Aron!