Gindi Vincent

The Dish on Career, Fashion, Faith, and Family

Family

Change of Plans

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I am a planner. 

This weekend I had a change of plans. 

Not a change of a plan.  But plans. 

I had a plan for every bit of this weekend on Wednesday and an allocation of how it was all going to play out with transport and hand offs and windows for the work that needed to get done too. 

Friday afternoon, the boys were going to fish with a friend for his birthday and then go to dinner, where the rest of us would join them.  Saturday morning was little bit’s last meet, but it was far from our house, so Bray would need to get the boys to the warm up for their football game.  I’d run through a drive though to get little bit food and then go to their game.  We had a few errands Saturday afternoon we’d need to run before the Saturday evening drive in movie and dinner we had on tap. 

Sunday I needed to be at church, then the boys football practice, then get some baking done, and get the kids into costume for our church’s drive by Trunk or Treat, immediately followed by hamburgers in a neighbor’s backyard.

Whew! 

A lot. 

Way more than usual, but lots fun, so I wanted to make sure it could happen. 

Until it didn’t. 

And it’s okay. 

2020 didn’t happen like we planned, friends. 

There are days that are so utterly and completely overwhelming we find ourselves crying our eyes out to our best friends.  That happened with my dear crew today.  It is so much.  It’s not one individual thing, it’s just the cumulative impact of all the things, so that one small thing like weather or a change in plans derails us entirely.

Especially moms.  Maybe everyone, but I’m having a lot of experience with derailed mommas. 

We have been pushed to the very edge, and we super-competent, organized, planning, efficient, successful, job-kid-spouse juggling heroes have been taken down. 

But this weekend, God used it.  He used every ounce of the change to reframe my focus.  I found myself grateful in the unknown.  Maybe not on Friday when it was REALLY unknown and all in the air, but I got there. 

Thursday evening, we had the gift of having my mother in law with us through Sunday.  Since the farm’s devastation, Bray and his siblings have been asking her to spend some time with us because it’s all still so destroyed in Louisiana.  She is beautiful and artistic and her memory has been failing her.  We are very grateful when we can host her. 

Then Friday, the boys friend had a teammate whose family member tested positive for COVID, so the fishing and dinner was postponed.  Which just meant our family got to order dinner in and eat in our beautiful backyard oasis and watch the cool front blow in.  Literally watch God bring the cool air in with the wind.  Goose bumps.  There are days you feel like you can see Him. 

Saturday, my father in law brought some cows from the farm into town so Bray could drive them to the ranch.  So Bray left, and I made it back from Lillie’s meet in time for the boys football drop off, and we had the gift of having both my in laws with us.  That of course meant no drive in movie and no church, but the trade off was worth it.  We ate huge platters of Mexican food and we watched his favorite movie that night (what a gift to see him laugh) and he coached the boys on their football plays. 

I cooked Sunday and we sat around the table with dishwashers and washing machines running in the background.  The baby made a big breakfast and I made chili and cornbread for lunch. 

Bray made it back from the ranch by mid afternoon in time for my in laws to get home before dark and for our family to make it for Trunk or Treat and burgers in the backyard with friends. 

It was an utterly beautiful and priceless weekend.  I’m writing down all these details more for me than for you.  Because I want to see that God wants to use the changes to bring us something better. 

He is so in in all this. 

I know it doesn’t feel like it. 

We are threadbare and parched and we will not be able to be stitched back together by what this world has to offer us with anxiety and fear and chaos and fighting. 

But I knew peace this weekend.  I saw love and trust and reliability and hope. 

I had to write this as a reminder in case it helps just one of you.  It was burning on my heart this morning – we’re trusting in the wrong things.  We’re trying to cling to some semblance of normalcy or something we can control.  And by we, I mean me. 

I’m going to release that.  I’ll still struggle. Every single day I’m going to want to control it all.  Try to keep it from flying out of control.  But it’s in those out of control spaces, He holds us together.  He shows us what we should really be focused on. 

Happy Monday friends.  We will be okay. 

The Eleventh Year Love Letter

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Dear ones,

This year, your eleventh birthday letter was a little harder to pen.  In fact, despite the date on this post, I’m a little late in writing.  Not because there isn’t so much I want to tell you, but because I’m not sure how to start in this crazy 2020 pandemic year. 

Normally, I write a letter talking more about who you are.  But this year’s 5th grade back to school letter did a lot of that already. Also, I have found writing about you is harder now that you’re older because there are things that aren’t mine to say anymore.  Gone are the days are funny posts about poop smears and escaping your cribs.  There is still plenty to laugh about, but there are bigger issues too and a future teendom looming very close. 

I also thought of just writing about what we did this year so you’d remember the highlights of 2020.  Our beautiful holiday season with laughter and family.  The eldest’s mommy and me trip to watch LSU play in the national football championship (sorry bud, doesn’t look like that’s going to be a return event soon).  Our great adventure to Arizona, to stay in an amazing VRBO house, and see Sedona and the Grand Canyon and float Lake Powell before cutting the trip short because of the pandemic.  The way we got hours and days and weeks together in a way we hadn’t in years.  How we ate breakfast together and had devotions together and I played teacher.  We even spent a week at “school” on the farm where grandfather Zoomed with your classes to talk about the cattle drives of old. 

But a recap post didn’t seem fitting for your birthday love letter. 

So I returned to old posts.  Last year, I wrote a lot about the incredible decade milestone and how we celebrated. I was also tremendously relieved to see your ninth birthday letters went up a full two weeks late.  I dug into each letter.  Words that held true despite the passage of time. 

Instead of penning all new words for your eleventh year love letter, I decided to use the words of the past that still hold true today. As does our love for you.

To the eldest,

At seven years old, I wrote, “he is obsessed with football.  He is incredibly competitive.  Yet he loves snuggling at night, reading together, and playing board games.”  Ha!  Man oh man – if it’s possible you love football more and are even more competitive! Funny how times change but people stay the same.

But I clarified in your eight year old letter, and this is true and one of your greatest qualities: He is focused on the things important to him.  Your focus and drive will set you apart.  It may make things hard too, but don’t conform.  You be you. 

In your sixth year love letter, I highlighted what I still believe to be completely true, “You’ve always been so curious about the Bible and God. In Pre-K3, they called you the preacher, and your Kindergarten teacher already has you pegged for the seminary.” You have a profound sense of faith and a calling to learn scripture and know God more.  This will be the light that guides you and I pray it keeps you deeply centered as you encounter challenges.

At four, I shared how you are so sentimental and loving.  You were my cuddler from the time you were born.  I’m starting to see that slip and I miss “the kissy game.”  This was true at three too.

One thing that has definitely changed from your three year old self to now is this third birthday love letter commentary: You are more of a follower than your siblings, but in the best consensus building way.  You will be the peace maker and the people pleaser. 

Little did I know how MUCH that would change.  You were the follower then because you couldn’t get a word in edgewise.  But ever since we gave you your own space to bloom in kindergarten, you haven’t needed to follow or please.  That’s good.

At two, and beyond, I was captivated by your ability to figure anything out.  Such an engineer: You can figure anything out.  You were the first to crawl out of your bed this year and the first to learn how to open the doors and lock me out of the house.  

I’ll close with my five year old love letter words, “I love how you march to the beat of your own drummer.”  May it always be so. But know that wherever you march, daddy and I will always be there to cheer you on. 

To little bit,

At seven, I said, “little bit is kind to animals and friends and babies, oh is she gracious.  She is athletic and musical and artistic.” I said nearly the same thing in your eight year old letter too! Because that is who you are.

Isn’t it crazy that four years letter I could write those exact same words. 

At six, I noticed, “you painstakingly made your bed and arranged all your stuffed animals in particular order, and then you promptly went to sleep in the floor because you didn’t want to mess it up.”  Ha!  You are still organizing our house and our life and watching Mom Hacks and have decided that instead of a teacher or a vet you will become an interior designer or a home organizer.  You will knock that business out of the park!

In your nine year old love letter, I shared, “You stand your ground with the boys but have maintained your femininity.”  It is still true today.  You play basketball with the boys and then ask to get a pedicure.  You can work cows and play with your dolls. I love you can adapt wherever God puts you.

In your fourth year love letter, not only did I highlight your artistry, but your passion for music and dance.  You will still go in your room and sing and dance.  Don’t ever lose your expression.

You love life.  From our roller coaster rides of today, all the way back to two years old, I noticed: You absolutely love living and you throw your whole heart and body into it.  Your lust for life is contagious.

I’ll close with a note from your three year old letter: You are fierce.  So independent.  So strong willed.  So focused…You will face battles and challenges in your life my beloved, but you will stare them down and they will shake as you approach.  You are so brave and fearless.  I love that.  The most remarkable thing about your strength is that it carries as its companion empathy and nurturing. 

Independence is a consistent theme in every birthday note.  You hang on to your bravery and independence.  You will need it my love.  But know that daddy and I are always here too. 

To the baby,

In your seven year old post, I penned, “God has given you a deep wellspring of emotion, more mature than any child I’ve ever met.” 

This is still true today. But I went on to say at eight, “my Renaissance man because his interests vary from cooking to sports to reading to creating Lego vehicles.  Fishing is his biggest passion and he’ll practice casting in our pool when he’s away from the farm.”  You are still casting in our pool!

You my dear are a man who feels deeply and curiously learns all the time. Even at six I said, “you see and hear everything my curious little sponge. Not only do you absorb all of the knowledge and information around you, but you also absorb others emotions.” 

You are really tired these days because there’s so much pushing on you, and you’re a perfectionist and a pleaser.  With the farm devastation and school and football, it’s a lot.  And as I noted in the fifth thank you note, you have a tremendously strong work ethic and discipline.  It’s extraordinary. Everyone comments on it.  Allow for rest too.

Even at two, I noticed your sense of humor and continued to write about it because you are so funny.  And you are my constant learner.  My one who won’t put a book down late at night in bed.  Well it was always so, even when you were two: You find life so funny and your laugh sets us all to laughing with you.  You love to learn.  You were the first one to know all your shapes and your colors and your animals.  You could sit in my lap and read books for hours and want to drink up every new piece of information and commit it to memory.  We will always be seekers in our home, on a journey to learn and understand more, because of you. 

I wrote always about curiosity and laughter and your sensitive spirit.  But I penned this at three years old, and I close with it now, “Your absolute delight in living fills up any space you invade.  And there’s never any doubt about your love for everything you encounter because you tell us in no uncertain terms what you …  It is a revelation to watch the world through your eyes.  You are already becoming a man of honor…” 

You live a life of honor and goodness.  You are a true friend.  Wherever you run, wherever you go, whatever ship calls you to captain it, know that daddy and I will always come when you call. 

I know I say this every year, but I mean it more every year. It is such an honor to be your mother. It is the greatest gift I have ever been given. I pray for wisdom that daddy and I do this job well and that when you fly away you will always know you have a place to return.

All The Good Things

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Little bit went ALL IN on fall decorating Sunday!

This weekend was good.

Full of good things.

As you know, it’s been a rocky few weeks. And Bray still went and spent the weekend doing hurricane clean up with his dad at the farm. But the kids and I stayed home so they could get some rest. Moving from absolutely nothing during a global pandemic, to going back to in person school, long weekends of hurricane clean up, and football and cross country practices, wiped them all out.

This weekend held lots of good recovery and joy.

The kids largely got along, something I think that them all being in separate classes at school for the first time is helping.

Saturday morning was pleasant weather, for Houston in September, and held our first football game of the season. The boys are playing 7 on 7. We debated going back but this is their first chance to play sports since basketball wrapped in February and these are TEAM SPORT kids! The baby played quarterback and the eldest played center (much to his chagrin, since quarterbacking is his lifelong dream, ah sibling competition). They made quite a nice duo. That pairing alone led to a touchdown and two conversions. The boys won their first game 34-7 with their grandfather, uncle, grandmother, and mom/dad/sister all there to cheer them on. Gracious, it felt nearly “normal!”

Little bit had a playdate with one of her favorite people at school. This friend just joined our school and the two of them have already become fast friends. She enjoyed a virgin strawberry daiquiri poolside – quite the life!

Do not mess with my organizational system, she announced!

Then, she and the baby put their combo of organizational skills/hard work through the paces. Little bit’s favorite pastime these days is watching “Mom Hacks” and then trying to implement them in our home/life. Saturday, she and the baby completely cleaned out my car (praise hands!) and organized it. This picture features her work (the bag contains a blanket, water, snacks on the go organized in a pencil case, tissues, wipes, and a trash bag). She gave us strict instructions over the kitchen table as to all of our individual responsibilities of keeping it up!

Stanley did not attend church with us, but little bit was happy to pull out her new outfit!

Sunday dawned and with it our FIRST morning back at church in person. I serve as an elder at my church and all our business and worshiping has been virtual since March – I remember watching the first live stream while on our Spring Break vacation in Arizona! Six months!

Since there isn’t currently any congregational singing because of the virus (and we pre-register and wear masks, I felt really safe), my good friend and our talented worship director found ways to really connect us in community and to God. So following the worship service, everyone broke into small groups, spaced out, and applied the sermon to the week ahead. From seniors to young families, we had an incredible time of inter-generational sharing. When my son talked about what the Lord’s Prayer meant to him and how he applies it in his life, I couldn’t help but tear up at this gift of time to grow in our faith together.

She did not stick with the dining room, the WHOLE HOUSE is now FALL!
Mine is not pretty like Half Baked Harvest’s, but it was YUMMY!

Then little bit went at it again. While I cooked, she decorated our entire house for fall. Yes it was 95 degrees outside but inside our house is cinnamony and full of crisp fall sentiments! I’m trying ALL these new recipes from a new favorite food blogger find called Half-Baked Harvest. I cannot recommend this super yummy chicken meatball and lemon pasta carbonara enough. Last night I also served HBH’s slow cooker carnitas, tonight is her Mediterranean salmon, and tomorrow night is one pot lemon rosemary chicken.

When I go in, I go ALL IN! (Don’t you worry, I’ll be back Pioneer Woman – my true recipe touchstone!)

I am so utterly grateful for these small life moments. I recognize them more now than before. I’m thankful for laughter and fall decor and sports (on t.v. and in real life) and friends and a place to call home.

Here’s hoping your September weekend brought you overdue rest and joy as well! Onward!

Another 40s Birthday, 2020-Style

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That nice red splotch is what’s left of my spider bite

I climbed another notch on the 40 to 50 ladder with my birthday yesterday.  One that lands me closer to the end of the decade rather than the beginning.  A non-birthday which turned into a lovely birthday because of precious people in my life. 

I haven’t written in a bit so there’s nothing over here on the blog that notes the freak issues that cropped up for me while doing hurricane recovery at the farm the past two weekends.  Weekend before last, some type of spider somehow got into/up/through my blue-jeaned-legs and bit my shin.  It went south pretty fast. By last Thursday, I booked a quick telemed visit with my doctor’s office because of the red, hot, oozing mess.  She prescribed oral and topical antibiotics to get it under control. 

Then, last Sunday at the farm, I developed a painful, itchy rash on my neck and chest. Plus my leg didn’t seem to be improving. 

So Bray and I got a big laugh yesterday morning when I said “Well this is what 4# looks like, you have a 7:45 am doctor’s visit for a freak rash!” (And Southern Living sent me an article on The Most Flattering Hairstyles for Mature Women…) I wouldn’t expect anything else from you, 2020!  And aging! 

Turns out, I was having a reaction to both the oral and topical antibiotic, but the bite was actually improving, it just had a rash on top of it.  Ha!  So no more antibiotics, and now I’m on steroids.  This morning, everything already looks a ton better and I slept through the night. 

With that as its backdrop, how could the birthday do anything but go up.  I worked all day, of course, because adult birthdays are far less glamorous than kid birthdays.  But my best friend sent me a little treat to encourage us to go out/get take out, and our other dear friend dropped off a beautiful gift.  My texts and IMs and social media was full of gracious words from kind friends from this season of life and all the past seasons too!  I love that.  It’s like seeing everyone at a wedding again. 

Bray picked up a Mediterranean feast per my wishes, and my mom delivered a yummy lemon cake for afterwards.  I haven’t written about it a lot here because my weight is just such an up and down battle for me, but I’ve been “dieting.”  I’m doing Beachbody shakes and work outs and I haven’t had a bite of sugar for three weeks so this was a fun little splurge. 

The best part though was sitting around after dinner with these people God has gifted me with and opening cards and presents.  My mom and little bit both picked out these gorgeous cards and wrote these long beautiful messages.  This is the first year a child went and selected their own card and she penned such a beautiful sentiment inside a lovely card that I cried right through the whole thing. 

Bray had a brutal day at work but showed up and did the birthday thing even though he is utterly wiped between the farm and work.  The kids went to school and cross country and are still tired from farm clean up, but they showed up and showered me with love and kindness.  My mom, and friends, and co-workers, all took time out to be such love and kindness.  A good friend of mine had delivered dinner to us the night before since I hadn’t had time to meal prep. TWO straight nights with zero cooking for me! As much as I love to cook, it was a fantastic break in this hectic season. 

The boys have a football scrimmage tonight and game on Saturday.  The kids have a cross country meet next week.  We’re navigating social distance and masks and a pandemic with reentry to school and sports and hurricane recovery.  It’s a lot and it’s good and it’s hard and it’s full. 

I started yesterday completely and utterly depleted.  I’m starting this morning restored.  Not because I suddenly got 12 hours of sleep or everything is different.  Everything is the same (except my rash!). But I remembered how extraordinarily good God is and how I have everything I need. 

I’m grateful to start this next year.  I’m thankful I get to. 

How We Heal

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There have been a lot of tears in our family the past week.  It was early Thursday morning we woke up to the news that the eye of Category 4 Hurricane Laura went right over the farm.  The reports put storm surge lower than initially projected but winds at 140-150 miles per hour sustained. 

The family was devastated.  But waiting with hopeful baited breath that things weren’t as bad as they might be. 

The first report coming out Friday was that the structures were standing.  Unfortunately, that was not to be the case.  All three barns were destroyed.  Fortunately, the bayou house, which is my father in law’s historic childhood home moved to sit on the bayou, was still standing although damaged.  The camp house was missing siding and roof.  And Bray’s parents home was assaulted by the wind – siding pulled off, holes in the roof, water in the walls, windows blown out, and the dining room wall actually bowed out. 

The family came in waves.  Delicately driving between downed power lines and trees.  The electricity infrastructure for SW Louisiana has been destroyed.  It will be months for the smaller communities to have power restored

The kids went through Hurricane Harvey in Houston when they were seven.  Packed up their belongings in a trash bag and evacuated with kind emergency response personnel from around the country.  But our house survived.  Miraculously.  They came home and unpacked and helped others rebuild. 

They haven’t had to rebuild themselves. 

In the midst of the emotional upheaval of this year, a global pandemic, racial injustice, political vitriol of an election year, we just didn’t have the bandwidth left for a super destructor hurricane. 

Heck, my last blog posts were about disappointment, fear and sadness – and that was BEFORE the hurricane! 

Those posts were inspired at the farm and featured pictures from our time there just a few weeks ago.  Lord knows I’ve written from the farm a hundred times.  I can still see this walk from the hay barn with the baby in this post, On Bones and Wood, Down Here at the Farm.  Summers with preschoolers reminding me I’m not a farm girl despite my love of the quietude, and littles playing in mud puddles and feeding cows.  Their newfound obsession with farm life at two years old. 

They carry all that with them.  So after a long weekend of cleaning up debris, and another long weekend of clean up ahead of them, they were all in tears and exhausted last night.

We also just went back to school which adds to the exhaustion, AND we’d just finished Where the Red Fern Grows for school which added to their emotional fragility.  As I held each one, cycling from child to child (they rarely are all crying at the same time, I’d forgotten how hard that is), one voiced the question they all held:  Why did the farm have to get destroyed? Why did the barns get destroyed?  It will never be the same. 

I don’t know, I replied.  I’ve found when we don’t have the answers, it’s best not to gin up an inauthentic one.  This is one of those early opportunities where they learn God doesn’t always answer our prayers like we wanted.  He is still there though. His plans are still “to give you a hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11-13)

I wrote on Facebook Friday night, just before we drove to Louisiana the next morning:
Gratitude: thankful in all circumstances.
Well, I guess this week was meant to test that.
Monday: Needed a root canal through my new crown. Grateful to have access and ability to pay for the procedure.
Tuesday: School suddenly released so we could prepare for a major hurricane. Grateful we are one of the few families whose kids can even go back to school.
Thursday: major hurricane eye goes over the family farm leaving a disaster behind. Grateful for a big family who are all going out to rebuild and friends and neighbors to volunteer cots and food to take.
Thursday: Two kids health issues crop up requiring different pediatric specialists. Grateful I live in a city with extraordinary access to health care – appointments Monday and Tuesday.
Friday: First pictures from the farm. Heartbreaking. Then we lose power at our home in Houston. Grateful we are getting to practice what it will be like with no power this weekend at the farm and grateful we can get in tomorrow.
#imtappedout #ineverythinggivethanks #gratitudeiswork

How do we heal? 

From whatever has attacked.

We heal through our tears. It’s critical we allow them to flow.  Boy, girl, man, woman, we need to make space to grieve.

We heal through our faith.  God sustains us even when, especially when, the outcome is different from what we hoped. 

We heal through gratitude.  Giving thanks in the midst of a storm is hard.  The Bible tells us to bring the SACRIFICE of praise, because it is a sacrifice.  But finding those things to be thankful for heal.

I know we have too many to name. The people who have come around the extended family with offers of physical labor, supplies, prayers, and money to rebuild have overwhelmed us all. The kids school has been such a safe and comforting place for them to be during the week. We have a home with power and food to come back to when many of those in Lousiana, including my in-laws, do not. We have a hope, the faith that anchors my soul.

It won’t happen overnight. And we’ll have setbacks. We’ll live with the sadness and disappointment and fear I just wrote about. Then, little by little, we’ll see the restoration from the ruin.

I have a hope, found in your name. I have a strength, found in your grace. Your faithfulness, My fortress, Over and over.
Make way through the waters. Walk me through the fire. Do what you are famous for: