Today I’m thankful for wonderful neighbors, especially Jen, who is this magical gardener. I’m thankful to drive past her house whenever I come home, and whenever I drive or walk by, I feel as if I’m transported out of the city to somewhere beautiful. I’m thankful for the ginormous pumpkin she gave me. It made five pan-fulls of roasted chunks, and five blender-fulls of puree! It could feed our family for a week, I think. I’m thankful for generosity shown to us through our family in Christ. God loves a cheerful giver! So many times we wonder at what He wants us to do. Usually He is just nudging us towards small, everyday acts of kindness, generosity, and selflessness. He loves that. It reflects who HE is to us. I want to reflect who He is to others.
encouragement
All Is Not Small
Today I’m thankful for just enough flour in the cupboard to make cinnamon rolls. Nothing is more fall-y than hot tea with cinnamon rolls. I’m thankful that God doesn’t change, no matter what the calendar reads, the critics say, or the bank account shows. I’m thankful that He knows my name and never leaves me, no matter what I’ve done or how I feel. He is totally worth celebrating and remembering. Bless the Lord, all my soul, and forget not all His benefits; who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases. (Psalm 103:2-3)
Confessions of A Mom
Today I’m thankful for the stages of life that my children are all going through. I love watching them learn and grow and become their own little persons. I’m thankful that with each soul born into our family, my heart has not grown more cluttered, just more full. Today I struggled with the noise level of my day. Yet I’ve been reminded that even though my life is never quiet, my heart is at peace. I wonder what it would be like to have neatly lined-up shoes in front of the door, and two loads of laundry a week. I wonder what it would be like if my counter-tops were always spotless and my bathroom sink never had toothpaste smeared all over it. Would that truly make me happy? No, I realize that picking up the zillionth shoe is a privilege, honor, and gift from God. I realize that the random shirt stuffed under the sofa, the mysterious smell coming from the bathroom, the gum stuck to the floor, the empty fridge yet again, are all marks of tremendous blessings. I have five little bodies that stumble down for a hug each morning. I have been given five hearts to love and tell about Jesus, the lover of their souls. Forgive me, Lord, when I cringe at the messes instead of embracing the mess-makers. Forgive me for blocking out my ears to their voices instead of joining in the clamor. Forgive my ungrateful heart and create in me a clean heart, O God, ready to hug, listen, and love. I truly am thankful.
Four Bites of Thankfulness
As November begins, I will be doing a daily thankful post. We can’t have enough thankfulness. My heart needs constant tuning. When it feels off-pitch, it is usually due to comparison, greed, envy, pride, or dis-satisfaction. However, all of these cacophonous noises can be brought into perfect tune with a sound dose of thankfulness.
Today I am thankful for the lessons my children are teaching me. Grace and patience come to mind today. When a sweet child refused to eat or try her supper last night, I told her it would be her breakfast. After breakfast came and went, it became her lunch. After lunch, we sat at the table together and it finally became her afternoon snack. The anger I felt this morning dissipated as I gentled my approach but strengthened my resolve. Her heart is at stake, not a bowl of potatoes. I could care less if she ever grows to like potatoes, even though that would be great. I care a great deal, however, for her to trust my word, not be afraid of me, and respect my authority. I made sure my expectations weren’t unreasonable, and focused my attention on her heart, not on winning the battle. The breach between us has been bridged once more, and the first thing she did after she swallowed her last bite was give me a hug.
I’m also thankful for the wild and crazy outfits this strong-minded girl wears. When I hesitated at her wearing her sparkly purple dress out to the grocery store, Matthew sweetly reminded me that it won’t fit her forever, and so why not enjoy it today? And why not enjoy it with hot pink and silver striped stockings and red boots!
I can hardly wait to say what else I’m thankful for, because when I start this tuning process, all the yucky sounds of discontent go running! It is a habit I have tried hard to maintain, but feel the need of much improvement right now.
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, remembering that as members of the same body you are called to live in harmony, and never forget to be thankful for what God has done for you. (Col. 3:15) Always be thankful. It’s a command, not an option!
Just Like Felix
I’d like to compare my life to Felix Baumgartner. This week, he broke records when he jumped out of a tiny space capsule, 23 miles from earth. They say he’s a daredevil. I think every mom is a daredevil. Who wouldn’t be labeled brave, who birthed a child? No women I know. As we launch out into the stratosphere of our day, life seems pretty mundane. Just another liftoff. However, every day we are breaking the speed of sound as we leap out of our capsules and venture at hair-raising speeds into what we affectionately call “life”. Sometimes it feels like our bodies are spinning so fast our head hurts and our stomach ties into a knot.
For me I feel the most free-fall around lunchtime. We recess from school and I’m faced with seven hungry bellies, mine included! Today I cracked a dozen eggs, made three loaves of banana bread and some tater tots. I had just dished up my own plate of yummy broccoli-laden eggs with tater tots on the side, when Betty hit the last leg of her morning journey. I scooped up her crying little self to find her jeans soaked. She also smelled poopy. A thorough search confirmed that yes, we are indeed out of wipes. Up to the bathroom we went, where I stripped her and washed her in the tub. She loves baths, and I love the way she says “bath” with a very strong emphasis on the “th”, said with as much force as possible. Her tongue sticks out and she sprays saliva from her mouth when she says it: “ba- tthhhhhhbbbbbbtttthhh.” Anyway, into the batthhhhbbbbtttthhh she went and came out smelling beautiful. Into clean clothes she was dressed, and then into her beloved bed she lay. Her pink bunny snuggled up with her and she happily hit dreamland. At last I came to the table, where everyone had long ago finished eating their lunch. I warmed up my food and sat down to accept the nourishment provided.
Another scenario of a meal happened yesterday while I chatted on the phone with my sister. I made a triple batch of pancakes while five little mouths inhaled them. It’s almost like watching a cartoon, where the character shoves something into its mouth and it disappears. Thirty-six or more pancakes down the hatch.
During quiet hour today, Elsie kept wanting to surprise me, so she cleaned off the table (which meant moving everything to another location and wiping it down with a nice wet rag). Then she similarly tidied the living room, removing, moving, and “doing her best!” It was really sweet. After quiet hour, Jack came down with his almost-always-present notebook to show me what he drew. On top of his artwork he wrote something on his own for the first time, sounding out the words. It said, “Jack is a arsts.” (Jack is an artist.) He’s been working so hard on de-coding sounds back into letters and I just about hit the moon when he showed me. It’s taken him awhile to get this far, but now the lightbulbs are going off in his brain, and it’s so exciting to watch!
About this time, after cleaning up from the morning’s ride, another curve lies dead ahead. Time to start supper! While doing this, I’m also doing laundry, which has been a humorous undertaking the past couple days. Something happened to the washing machine so that it washes and washes and washes without moving on to the next cycle. I smelled something hot the other day, but completely tuned out to the fact that a load of laundry had been washing away in the machine for over an hour. When it finally dawned on me that the smell was coming from the washing machine, I noticed how the dial hadn’t moved a millimeter. Since then I’ve been setting timers to remind myself to manually change it to the next cycle, so it doesn’t spin into orbit!
So now my quiet is over, and it’s almost time to pull out my parachute so I can gently finish yet another day. Unlike Baumgartner, the whole world isn’t watching. But like Felix, I kneel at the end of each mission and thank God for the courage to jump, and the grace to finish. I call it, Mission: Life Is Beautiful
An Excessive Addiction
One of my dreams was to be an archaeologist. Maybe it was the lure of digging in dirt, or the fascination with history. I have always been drawn to learning about the past and applying those things to today. Thursday I stepped back in time, about 3000 years. Matthew and I had the privilege of going to the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia to see the Dead Sea Scrolls which are on their last week of display there. In addition to the scrolls, there were ancient artifacts, pottery, jewelry, household objects and such. It was amazing to say the least.
And we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us. 2 Corinthians 4:7
One section of the tour included a large collection of “household gods” found in ancient Israelite homes. It gave a glimpse into what really was happening there, inside the homes of people who supposedly were not to have any other gods before the One True God. I found it interesting to read this description of what was expected of the Israelites. It bespoke of hypocrisy. I thought how very little has changed in the homes and hearts of Christ-followers. We go to church and we put on our handy, happy, plastic faces. We mask the pain of bad choices. We even change the wording of sin to make it not sound as bad. I like food. Cars are my thing. I might need this one day. It was too good a deal not to buy! We have an excessive addition to stuff. Just like those household gods which littered ancient homes, what is literally under our beds, in our cupboards, and filling our storage? This a serious issue, and one that has been plaguing the hearts of God’s followers for thousands of years.
The dictionary defines idolatry as an immoderate attachment or devotion to something. If we’re honest with ourselves, we can all probably say there is one, if not more, places in our homes that hold “stuff” we just can’t give up. We might not have touched it for a few years, but it’s still staying. Stuff has such an allure. It gets moldy. It burns. It rusts. It decays. Yet it still wraps its invisible chains around our hearts so that we can’t let it go. We can be so enslaved to stuff, that we buy it even when we can’t afford it. For some of us, this has cost us a great deal more than the initial dollar amount. Our relationship with stuff has taken such precedence over our relationship with God, that when He nudges us to give some of it away, we balk. Or when He tells us to give away the very means that would allow us to buy more stuff (aka: money), we really balk. We then start a vicious cycle between our hearts and God’s, where the two can’t truly connect, and we stop listening to His voice. We stop listening to His voice, because we’re scared He might tell us to do something uncomfortable. Like give. Or release. Or repent. Or a great many other things which in actuality bring us such freedom and peace! The father of lies is working overtime to distort God’s voice so that we don’t hear Him saying the simple things.
I can’t help but wonder what those archaeologists thought when they found those artifacts. These small clay figures clashed with the God the people of Israel supposedly loved. I wonder if it made God seem not as amazing as He really is? If a piece of clay could allure them, then what kind of God did they really worship? I wonder the same thing today. Do our lives make people wonder if God is worth knowing? He certainly is better than any earthly thing, yet we store up so many treasures that onlookers really don’t see much difference between their lifestyles and ours. In the New Testament the early Christians gave as each one had need. That means, if your friend didn’t have enough food but you did, you brought them a meal. It means that if your car broke down and your friend had two, he gave you his other car. They looked to God for their needs, and He in turn used His followers to meet those needs. It was different from the way everyone else lived. It was noticeable.
There should be no doubt in people’s minds when they look at us that we love the God we serve so much, we put nothing above Him.
Guess Who? A Page of Our Life
He saunters in without realizing how intense his presence is. Sometimes he hangs out in the doorway of the kitchen, with his arms in an iron-cross. It’s a full-body workout for most people, but for him it seems effortless, almost like breathing. At the dinner table, his spoon becomes a weapon, an airplane, a guy with a gun. If it is taken away from him, his fingers become smoking guns, or walking bad guys, or missiles that scream before exploding. He eats entire bags of carrots in one sitting. He eats breakfast and a half hour later he eats again, and on until the end of the day. His diet is the food of Olympians: fruit, oats, anything crunchy without added sugar. He is still only when he’s sleeping.
She dons numerous outfits a day, usually in some contrasting style or color. Hair-twirler, song singer, marker-lover. She makes beds like a pro. Although a little emotionally fragile, she is also strong in spirit. She loves her friends. She is starting to write and read and adores school. In her heart she is a princess, and she loves to be in charge of anyone who lets her. She has a dry sense of humor that is slowly unfolding. Though she’s afraid of being in her room all by herself, she is not afraid of walking to the park alone. Her bravery gets her into mischief, but I know one day it will take her places where no one else is willing to go.
His eyes never cease to make my heart flutter. He never stops talking, unless he’s in the middle of a project. He loves to build, create, and imagine. His favorite words are, “Mom, look at this!” He knows exactly how to act around babies to make them smile and feel comfortable. He is sweet and gentle when he’s not trying to impress, and by not trying he endears you to himself. His mind is always thinking, and often there is more going on inside than meets the eye. He loves to make people laugh, whether it’s by scaring them, telling a joke, or making silly faces. He is into magic shows and can mow the grass beautifully.
Her hair and personality match perfectly. Bouncy, beautiful, noticeable. She loves people so much it literally makes her heart hurt sometimes if she can’t be with them. She has a servant’s heart and when she sets her mind to it, she can accomplish anything. She is not intimidated by age, and has a special ability to converse with people who are much older. She likes to know “the plan”, and isn’t so fond of surprises. She loves to give gifts and holds onto her own possessions very loosely. She likes her space, but has learned how to share generously.
Her belly sticks out as she stands with her hands behind her back, then she swings her arms purposefully as if she is about to do something with great meaning. She loves to squeal at Toby the rabbit and say, “Good boy!” Every other word is usually, “MaMA? MaMA?” She points to the door and says, “Outside?” She also calls all her babies “Abby”, gives them kisses, and tells them, “Good gooorl!” When it’s time to go to bed, she knows if any of her babies are missing, and says, “Baby? Baby?” until all are present and accounted for. Her shoe fetish begins first thing in the morning and sometimes lasts throughout the night as she sleeps with her shoes on her feet. She walks around with a pretend phone, laughing and conversing before saying, “Die- die!” and hanging up.
These are my children, the ones who fill my days with joy and fun; sometimes sorrow and exhaustion. As someone said last night, and I echo her words, I would like to believe that I am enjoying every moment. Yes, they turn ten in what seems a blink! But I love seeing them change and grow. Sometimes the change seems slow, other times it happens overnight. One day their head is covered in peach fuzz, the next day it’s in a pony-tail. One day they’re on my hip, and the next day they’re riding their bike around the block. They don’t stay babies forever, and I’m glad of that! I love every stage, every age, and every page of this book of life we’re writing together.
The Delivery
Yesterday I had some unexpected splashes of color painted into my day. Highlights of joy that I didn’t know I needed, but as usual, my Heavenly Father knew I needed them. After a bit of a rough start with school, things smoothed out. Shortly after, I got a text from a friend saying she prayed for me this morning over her cup of hot tea. I know it’s because of her prayers. Then after a couple of hours of school, sprinkled with lots of loud exclamations from Betty (who loves highlighters and scissors and glue… oh my!) there was a flower-delivery man at my front door! Tucked into a fall pumpkin were yellows and oranges and reds and a sweet note from a friend. I needed that so badly! The thoughtfulness that went into those flowers touched me so much! I love surprises, and that fit the bill completely! I love color & beauty, and both were hand delivered to my doorstep. Thank you, friend, for refreshing this mama’s heart! I’m so excited that I get to look at my flowers with a cozy sweater on (because the temperature smells of fall, even if the calendar doesn’t.)
After school we had to form a search party for our dear bunny. Toby is half-tame and half-wild and we let him roam our basement and sometimes he goes outside. Usually he stays in our yard. Sometimes he doesn’t. We eventually found him under a huge pine tree in our neighbor’s yard. Afterwards, I was able to spend the entire afternoon with just Nadine. We went to the library, got ice-cream, then went thrift-store shopping. For the price of one pair of sunglasses we bought books, a few outfits, two pairs of sunglasses, a few pairs of boots, and six pairs of earrings! It was a lot of fun. I learned that she doesn’t like to be surprised as much as she likes to be “in the know”. She is changing into someone who wants to know ahead of time where we’re going so she can plan and think about what outfit to wear! She’s not like her little sisters who don’t care whether they’re wearing pajamas or not before running out the door. She relished the time shopping. This has never happened before. I almost feel like I felt the first week she was at home. Unsure of how to care for this little person. In awe that this life has been entrusted to our hands. Now, almost ten years later, I’m feeling very much like we’re in an entire new phase of life. Not only that, but the other four will just as quickly be changing and phasing out of their childhood. I pray to be steadied. The other day as she was helping me clean up the kitchen, she had just finished shaking out the tablecloth outside and was putting it back on the table. She said, “What do you really not like about tablecloths? They’re pretty, they’re useful… I wonder who invented them?” Her thoughts are many and varied!
So far everyone is still very eager beaver about school, and it’s almost time to start.
I’m thankful that I have five beautiful faces and some lovely flowers to look at all morning!
Curiosity Almost Killed the Cat (If We Had One)
Curiosity killed the proverbial cat, and in my case, curiosity makes my house look the way it does. Sometimes curiosity makes it smell the way it does. This morning when I smelled a hint of smoke, I thanked God for my nostrils. A child had indeed lit not one, but six matches. They were flushed down the toilet, said a reliable source. Not that this happens a lot, because it doesn’t, but at the same time I can say, “Just another day in the life.” If it’s not matches, it is a great many other things.
The other night as I was about to flip on the lamp beside our bed I noticed that every square inch of it was coated in a thick layer of vaseline. Oh yeah. That one is fun.
Soap on the wall. Marker on the wall. You-name-it on the wall. All things I silently told myself, would never happen in my home when I was a mother. Really? Sharpie on the piano? How could any good mother allow her children to do such a thing?
The reality is, I definitely don’t allow them to do it, they choose to do these things. The other reality is, childish behavior does not reflect our mothering. I can not be in five places at once. So unless I extinguish their freedom to explore, and always keep them within eye-shot, these things will happen. Notice I said “childish things”, because as I am learning, there is a difference between childishness and foolishness. Childishness is often just immature curiosity without common sense. As we mature, we may wonder if sticking a screw-driver into an electrical socket will do anything, but common sense (or experience) will stop us from trying it. Childishness thinks, “I wonder how this color would look on that white wall?” Children are naturally curious, but often their curiosity leads to mess, which we as mothers often translate as: bad, bad, bad. I’m saying this more to myself than anyone else, but mess doesn’t always equal bad behavior. Mess means life, learning, and children abound! That is not a bad thing! They are learning to clean up behind themselves, but not every shoe out-of-place or smudge on the wall means that they are out to get me. Every day I struggle to keep our home from looking like a demolition derby ran its way through each room. I often complain about it. I often compare myself to others who seem much more put together than myself. This takes away the joy of all the life being lived within these walls. So, as I anticipate starting school soon, I know there will be messes galore. I really want my kids to remember, though, that life and living was more important than a perfectly clean house.
A Sprinkling of Fear
They were afraid, but they were filled with joy. When I read that this morning, it seemed to describe the story of my life. After Jesus had died and was buried, the women were on their way to his tomb. When they came to the tomb and discovered an angel sitting on top of the heavy stone they were worried about trying to move, this was how they are described: afraid, but filled with joy.
Every day I fight fear. Fear that things will happen. Fear that things won’t happen. Fear of what other people think of me. Fear of what I think about myself. Fear debilitates us to action. When we know God wants us to go or do or say, fear will stop us in our tracks, tie our hands behind our backs, and silence us like a gag.
I know people who are afraid to lose weight. The fear of losing who they are comfortable being, in exchange for discipline and commitment to a new lifestyle, keeps them locked in a cycle of bad habits. I know people who are afraid of moving on. They are consumed by their past, and their fear keeps them from seeing what is around the corner. I know people who are afraid of change. They’re afraid of what it might mean and will never experience what it can do. I know people who are afraid of letting go. They’re afraid of losing the grip that they hold so securely, whether it’s a grudge or something that’s been done wrongly to them. They’re afraid, and will never experience the freedom of having their grip loosened, only to have their grasp filled with forgiveness and peace. I know people who are afraid of trying something new. They’re afraid, because they might discover they’re actually good at something they were never told they were good at doing. Or maybe they’re afraid of failing, so they never try. I know it, because I’ve been in each of these situations.
I don’t want my life to be characterized by fear, though it is something I constantly battle. Instead of being filled with fear, with little sprinkles of joy, I would much rather be afraid and filled with joy. Joy is the filling aspect, and fear is just a seasoning. It doesn’t debilitate, but rather keeps my heart in tune with Jesus, who has conquered fear.
Grow Old With Me 