Home Sweet Home

I've not a lot of words today, because there really are no words to describe. Only those who have grandchildren can possibly know.

The grandson came home from the hospital shortly after noon today. When I heard they were on their way, I fairly floated through the house, switching on the lights on the trees (yes, plural), turning on the Christmas music, making sure the outdoor speakers were working, just so that the new little family would hear Christmas tunes as soon as they got out of their car and onto the front porch. I turned on the space heater in the nursery, tied the "It's a boy!" balloon to the mailbox, wrote "WELCOME HOME" on the front storm door with window paint, and wished I had a long length of red carpet to unroll, reaching from the front door, down the driveway. Alas...red carpet was the only thing I was missing.

I thank you for the grace you extend me, allowing me to share the moment with you!



Proud Papa Justin with his wittle man...

Wittle man in his wittle Pooh Bear hat...


But the mercy of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear Him, And His righteousness to children's children...

~Ps. 103:17

I Love Ya, Tomorrow, You're Only A Day Away!

Poppy and his namesake. This man of mine is thoroughly smitten. Utterly hopeless. He "got to" change Tidbit's poopy diaper today, and he texted me, just to brag. He is counting the minutes till Little Man and his parents get to come home. So am I.



Please bear with me for a short season, because I am Ga-Ga. My own mother warned me, but nothing could really prepare me for this love. I had to run several errands today (only one of which was to mail an important package to my soon-to-be-Marine. He is about to enter "The Crucible" stage of his training, and has to have hand-warmers, because of the danger of frostbite)...and those errands, coupled with last night's ice storm, kept me away from the hospital until about 5 PM. I was so not a happy camper.

As I stood in the Relentlessly Long Postal Line, the longing I felt to hold that grandson was a physical sensation in my chest.

And now I know exactly where my "Inner Man" is...my spirit-essence exists there, in the center of my body. I have physically felt my spirit rejoicing, these last two days since the birth of our Next Generation.

Not to diminish the awe and wonder of the human spirit, but your inner man rejoicing is much like a rumbling in the tummy. It is a flip-floppish activity that takes place just behind the stomach, coupled with a sense of weight...a solid heavy breathless joy unspeakable. It is a spin and a dance that the inner man does when it connects with the power and blessing of the grace of God.

I'm telling you that I could lay hands on the sick right now, and I'm thinking they'd be healed. There is such a sense of Presence, of God's manifest glory, in my inner being.

Our little Sugar Muffin is the physical manifestation of the spiritual reality of the grace of God...he represents Newness of Life. God is "all about" this stuff, I'm telling you the truth. Oh, how He loves you and me!

Double Blessing...

....across the "hundred acre wood" yesterday, our life-long friends were also having their baby boy...

...and so, forever, Ethan and Timothy will share the Bond of the Birthday Brotherhood. Who but God could have had such a creative, brilliant idea? We couldn't have planned anything more meaningful, or more fun, than this.

Both tidbits will be home for Christmas...both households bursting with joy unspeakable, full of glory.

Boasting in the Lord...

You know what??? This is what we Atchleys are all about. Others can have their "thing" that they are about. They can have the houses and lands, the sports cars, the "fancy creams and lotions", the livery and the livestock, their own private jet, or a castle in Spain. Give us the generations, give us people, give us relationships, and we feel like royalty.

Isn't he the most beautiful thing you ever saw??? The Lord hath been mindful of us, He hath blessed us. He hath blessed the house if Israel, He hath blessed the house of Aaron, the Lord hath blessed us small and great, the Lord hath increased us more and more, we and our children. We are the blessed of the Lord.

He's Here

doing some mobile blogging...it is almost ten p.m. and we are still at the hospital. little timothy paul was born at about five thirty this afternoon, weighing in at six pounds fourteen ounces, via c section. mommy and baby are doing fine. and he is absolutely breathtakingly perfect.

grandmommy here, yours truly, is a little frayed around the edges, but deliriously happy.

pictures soon, i promise.

and i love smart phones. love. them.

cannot believe i am blogging from the hospital.

thanks for the prayers...please also ask the father for a quick recovery...

Checklist Before Becoming a Grandmother

(above oil painting by Gaye Lynne LeGuire...)

I'm going about the house, today, preparing to be a grandmother. (Our daughter, her husband, and new baby will live with us, for now, while Justin completes his internship and his Master's degree...thus, after baby Timothy is born, they will come home from the hospital to this home.)

How does one prepare to be a grandmother? How...how...how...

I know what to do to prepare the house. I still have to clear out the fridge, sweep the floors, and make sure my little bag of power bars, knitting needles, yarn, and Diet Coke is packed - I'll be there for all of labor and delivery, per Hannah's request. At six o'clock in the morning, it will be the trip to the hospital.

I know how to prepare a home, but how do I prepare a heart? How do I prepare my heart for the birth of a Christmas baby..."my" Christmas grandchild? How do I get ready to step seamlessly into what I have heard is the sweetest role I will play in all of life?

How do I go about the mundane preparations for a time of glory?

Life really is all about maintenance. Even on the eve of weddings and births, even on the day after death, there must be clean clothes and warm meals and physical comfort given to the people I love. Such is the Life of Woman. Ask me how I know.

Somehow, my heart assimilates. Somehow, my mind is slowly wrapping itself around the fact that God is the God of the New Thing. And New overlaps Old, always. One must always be cleaning up around the edges, where Old and New have collided. One must always be ready to tend to the business of tidying up in the place of transition, while simultaneously airing out the chambers of the heart...letting the breeze of newness freshen old routines and mindsets.

I've heard it said that women wear lots of hats. Well, this particular "hat" has been waiting for me, in its box, since the moment I gave birth to this daughter of mine and her sister. I have not so much as tried it on, in all these years. But I've looked at it longingly.

Today I get the hat out. I admire its loveliness. Yes, this hat suits me more than all the others, I bet. I think I will look just fine in this hat.

Tomorrow, I put on the hat for the very first time.

For the rest of my life, I will wear that hat with obnoxious pride. (And dear reader, it is most certainly not red...)

It's Gonna Be A Christmas To Remember!

...because friends, we will be having ourselves a grandson, no matter what, on December 14th!

If Hannah and Justin do not go into labor before this Tuesday, she'll be induced at 6:30 in the morning, December 14th, with Timothy Paul to make his appearance however many hours after that.

Guess who else is having her baby, via C-section, on December 14th?

My dear friend, and member of our church (visit her over at Hope Springs), Wendy Cantrell! Two babies born into our church family, very, very likely on the same day. If the fruit of the womb is a reward, Harvest Church has been doing something really right. (We are expecting five total!)

God has crowned my year with His utter goodness. He has given me my heart's desire, and has not withheld the request of my lips. He has given me a grandson for Christmas. He has given me yet another son by marriage (Jonathan, the arteest) this year. He has returned our wanna-be prodigals to heart, hearth, and home. My oldest son is thriving as a Marine-recruit. He is near the top of his squad. The other recruits in his squad of 80, ask him for prayer, and bring him their spiritual questions. He even has earned a nickname there...

..."Chappie". Short for "Chaplain".

It is nothing but grace. You. Just. Cannot. Know.

And my youngest is slowly making a name for himself, playing basketball. He will graduate from our home school this year - the very last one. God, by grace alone, has given me the gift of finishing well. I am living a dream I do not deserve. I have not earned it.

On the way home from a brief shopping foray, again, all alone in my car, I heard the old Christmas song by Amy Grant, "It's Gonna Be a Christmas To Remember."

Do you fight back the happiest tears of your life, or do you let them go?

Yeah...you let them go.