I am a devotee of big families. Although people thought we were crazy to have seven children in this day and age, to us life seemed better with so many kids in the house. True, stress levels could rise quickly, but that’s life in most households. Contrary to logic, though, having seven children was oftentimes easier than one or two. By the time the younger ones came on the scene, the older ones could be a genuine help.

For example, after I taught the first two to tie their shoes, I never taught another. The older ones did it. By the time the first one could drive, we had another person to help with the carpool. And in a public place, the older ones knew instinctively to keep track of the younger. So the truth about big families is that seven children is not seven times the work of one. They are, however, seven times the joy.

As big families grow and change, there is one chronic problem though. It becomes more and more difficult to get them all assembled in the same place at the same time. Our seven, plus two spouses and five grandbabies, live in distant locations with thousands of miles separating them from each other and me. Jobs, budget considerations and other commitments inhibit frequent travel, and when we do succeed in getting together, it’s a rare treat.

When Hans, Katy and their three little people arrived out of nowhere yesterday (actually out of England), it was the surprise to top all surprises. I’m still savoring the joy of that heart-warming reunion. It quickly became evident we needed to get the last one of us from distant Iowa north to Afterglow a.s.a.p!

Tonight we motored from this small Northwoods town of several hundred people to a larger town of several thousand. When we pulled up to the airport curb where we were invited to idle and wait (how different from Chicago’s airports!), we watched Birgitta’s propeller plane land very close to where we sat.

Our reunion was joy-filled as her arrival completed the family circle. My mother-heart warmed, knowing our family of 15 would be tucked in under the same roof tonight, a rare treat, now that so many have grown and flown.

I thought of how none of us would have been at Afterglow Lake this week, had Nate not passed away last fall. If he was still with us, his work schedule and debilitating back issues would have kept us from making the trip. It’s also remarkable that three family members who were not with us when Nate was, are here at Afterglow this week. There have been many changes, with more to come.

Life is moving forward, and time is sweeping us all along, tugging us away from the past and into the future. Our family is different without the husband and father we loved, but there is no choice but to become a new whole.

God subtracted one, added three, and this week we are reveling in being together… just as the Lord designed our changing family to be, at least for now.

Packing, loading and finally pulling away from the house to leave for vacation can be a stress-filled, never-ending project. Even when climbing in the car, people hop out and say, “Oh! Just one more thing!” or “Oops! I forgot something!” or “Wait just a second!”

This morning was no exception as we tried to get away by 9:00 AM with two vehicles packed to the ceiling and two little ones needing constant consideration. Every adult heaves a huge sigh of relief after finally buckling their seat belts and saying, “OK! Let’s go!”

Some families are disciplined enough to set alarms for pre-dawn vacation starts, arriving at their destination in daylight with enough time to enjoy most of that first rental day. Our family has a poor track record in this department, often arriving after midnight as a result of lengthy, complicated starts. We did well today, starting our engines by 9:45.

When we turned into the long, familiar driveway of Afterglow Lake Resort, we were gratified to see it hadn’t changed much. But as we walked into the same house we’d rented for so many years, I got the surprise of a lifetime. Standing in the living room and grinning from ear to ear were Hans and Katy Nyman… all the way from England!

I gasped to see them and couldn’t hold back the tears! How did they pull that off? With three children under two, they secretly flew the eight hours to Chicago, found someone to pick them up at the airport and keep them overnight until it was time to start our week in the Northwoods, found someone willing to loan them a car, and then found their way here. And this they did with three babies who are still operating six time zones away.

I was flabbergasted! As we all gathered around the giant dining table over pizza, the details of their decision came to light. They’d thought of all of us together without them and made the decision to join us just two days before they came. Katy creatively called upon pals and her mom to help her pull it all together in a hurry, and then they came! Thanks to Katy’s resourcefulness when the twins were newborns, they already had American passports by three months of age, allowing them to make this traveling decision with the snap of a finger. And special blessing goes to Mary and Bervin for doing the airport shuttle, providing overnight housing and the borrowed car. I’m still speechless, six hours after the fact!

The only thing running through my mind is, “God is good!”

Underneath all the arranging, packing, traveling and arriving were the arms of a loving Father, firmly holding our wounded family in his tender hands. He allowed Nate to succumb to cancer for a separate set of important reasons, but in the mean time has been faithfully carrying the rest of us through these difficult weeks and months with blessings exactly when needed. He knows what we can bear and holds the limit beneath that maximum. And when a special boost is needed, he orchestrates it to come at just the right time, wrapped with a ribbon of joy.

Now all we have to do is figure out a way to pluck Birgitta from the University of Iowa and move her 500 miles north to join the rest of us. If that works, the impossible will have happened: all 15 of us together at Afterglow Lake, our favorite vacation place.

“The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.” (Deuteronomy 33:27)

Our two youngest girls have spent a valuable year living together in a Chicago apartment, and today the year ended. It was moving day.

Louisa and Birgitta, fondly known as Weezi and Gitta, had set a goal of living “in a city” together one day, after they’d grown. Life changes rapidly for today’s young people with moving days sprinkled all over their twenty-something calendars, and last summer Nate and I were proud of them as they moved out of the cottage and moved in together. They made their check lists and narrowed their options. The winners were New York, Nashville or Chicago.

New York was too pricey. Nashville was the home of two brothers, a big draw, and since Weezi had been in school there, it was already familiar. But in the end, they chose Chicago. I’m sure God influenced their decision because he was already looking at what we couldn’t yet see. Had they chosen anyplace but Chicago, the minute they learned of Nate’s cancer they’d have uprooted, forsaking jobs and an apartment to be with him and the rest of us.

Because they were only 90 miles away, they spent four out of every seven days in Michigan during Nate’s illness and still held onto their jobs. (It also helped that their landlord was their uncle.) Apart from the misery of losing their father, which overshadowed everything, the year was an important one.

Weezi and Gitta learned the names and numbers of Chicago streets and how to navigate them. They used public transportation and figured out the complicated toll-card machines. They became skilled at parallel parking in tiny openings and discovered that walking was the best way to get where you wanted to go. They took advantage of what the city offered and learned how to carefully budget their paychecks.

When the girls moved into their place a year ago, the only negative had been the long “tunnel” between buildings that led to their door in the rear. After all, it was the city, where daytime safety became night time’s danger. Nate had heard of a new taser the size of a cell phone and was convinced the girls should have them. He’d read about wrestlers and football players volunteering to “take a hit” from the girlie-tasers, then “folding up like card tables” when shot from 15 feet. “Order two of them” he said, but we learned they weren’t legal.

Pepper spray was a poor second, but after testing it out in the apartment and coughing for hours afterwards, the girls walked their neighborhood (and the dark tunnel) with confidence. On this moving day, my gratitude to God is unbounded, because two keychain-sized cans of pepper spray are still full.

Since Gitta was at her Iowa school today and couldn’t participate in the move, Weezi took over organizing and did an excellent job, complete with regular ice water breaks for the six of us. Lars brought his truck, Jordan came from Indiana, Mike accompanied Klaus, and Klaus made the whole thing fun. In my book, each person was a reason to be thankful. Even the weather cooperated, a bonus when transporting mattresses in an open truck bed.

As children journey through their twenties, I’ve noticed God teaching them key life lessons through the many moves they make. My prayer is that as they move from place to place, role to role and challenge to challenge, they’ll also be steadily making moves closer and closer to him.

”Seek the Lord while he may be found; call on him while he is near.” (Isaiah 55:6)