I'm struggling right now, and I so wish that I was not. I wish that I just naturally saw the good in things; but no one who knows me would ever accuse me of being an optimist! I am especially gifted at finding the problem in any situation. Thankfully, the Lord blessed me with a husband who is a beautiful, optimistic soul, to balance my natural moroseness.
In large part, my husband being away so much this time of year, is affecting my outlook. It is to my shame, that I depend on him so much to keep me stable. He has always been the rock I leaned on. Taking the children when I no longer felt I could deal. Allowing me to take the time I need alone, so that I can recharge. He never complains. He has just been there.
When we began the journey we now travel, our lives changed. Oh, he is still there for me, but the demands of his work are great. This time of year, weeks become long and hard for him, and he reaches home, only to collapse until he is due to leave again. I hesitate to even write this, because I know he is going to read it. But he says, "Hurry and write again, so that I have something to read with my morning coffee." Sweet man.
I do not mean to present him as being selfish or calloused, because he is not. He is a wonderful father and husband. I am the one that has been needy. Though not a natural optimist, I am naturally selfish, and I want him to be here to meet my many needs. When I look in his eyes and see exhaustion, I panic. "No, no, no!" I think. "You cannot be exhausted. You don't know how badly I need you to come in and be strong right now. I have dealt with people this week, and now you need to take over!"
On looking at myself in this mirror of words, I am appalled. Why am I like this? He has dealt with hundreds of people in any given week, and I wilt after greeting a handful. Selfishness. And so many other weaknesses; too many to number. Perhaps I am being too honest. Few care to see naked honesty.
At some point, we all must mature and be able to reach within ourselves and up to our Saviour. Others, no matter how close, can only meet so many of our needs. As human beings, our neediness seems to know no bounds. And it becomes so much easier to lean on those who we see, then to reach out to the One, Who at times, feels so far away.
Our perceptions are skewed. The humans we lean on are just that---human. They have weaknesses and fears and physical and emotional pain just like ours. As much as they may love us, they can never be our all in all. There is only One Who can be, yet we fight that dependence. What will He require of me if I lean on Him? Will He bring conviction to my soul?
The mirror I see in my own words is nothing compared to the mirror to be seen in His. Yes, as I lay my soul open before Him, He will convict, and He will require everything from me. Naked truth is the only truth He accepts. We cannot accept His gift and give less in return. It is too much....I am not even that honest with my human rock---the man God gives me. And yet.....
Is there anything hid from the Lord? He already knows what is behind the curtain I raise to protect my true self from the eyes of the world. He put it all together. Me. He loves each part of me. Knowing my sin, He died to save me from the punishment. Passionate, undying love is the love He offers. Can I lean on Him? What "foolishness is bound up in the heart" of man.(Pr.22:15) How can I not?
"Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart; and ye shall find rest unto your souls." (Matt.11:28,29)
As I look forward to receiving a battle-weary husband back into my arms, I can hear the words of my gentle Saviour, "For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."(Matt.11:30) I lay my heart before Him again, and ask for His strength to enable me to become the help-mete I was meant to be. "Meek, and lowly in heart." But it cannot happen until------it is bared before Him.
"O, God thou knowest my foolishness; and my sins are not hid from thee." (Ps. 69:5)
"Neither is there any creature that is not manifest in his sight: but all things are naked and opened unto the eyes of him with whom we have to do." (Heb. 4:13)
"Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee. My flesh and my heart faileth; but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever." (Ps. 73:25,26)
In Your Name, Lord, Amen.
Owl's Head Lighthouse, Owl's Head, ME
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Rainbows
Today we saw rainbows.
For weeks, the rain has poured down over middle Tennessee. In the first two days of May, we had already broken the rainfall records for the month. Dark days seemed to be holding a parade, with only occasional breaks for sunshine. Never really drying out though.
Weekends have been spent indoors, and antsy children have been driving mothers crazy everywhere. When the suns dares to show its face, those children beeline for the outside, only to return, trailing rivers of mud. Then you wait. Wait for the floor to dry enough to vacuum. Wait for the clothes and boots to dry, to play some more. And wait for another sunny patch to come.
Today, it was beautiful. The sky was blue. The clouds were huge and puffy. And while it was hot, you could enjoy a breeze under the branches of the trees. Still having Daddy home for part of the day, our family was enjoying the weather close to home.
While parents were soaking in the quiet of the house, our children began shrieking in delight. "Mommy! Daddy! MOMMY! DADDY! It's a sun shower!!" Our youngest came dancing and twirling into the room with hair hanging wet around her face. A beautiful smile of simple pleasure on her freckled, pixie features. The rest soon followed.
"There are TWO rainbows," they exclaimed, "and it looks like one of them ends in the field.?" The question hung at the end, without being asked. "Go find your pot of gold!" said Daddy. And then they were gone.
Following more slowly, we stood behind our house, amazed at the blue sky and sunshine, as the rain continued to pour down. Four heads bobbed across the field. All running to look for whatever their individual pots of gold would look like.
There were TWO rainbows. One over the other. And somehow in the rain and through the sun, everything looked as it might look if you were to view it through a crystal. The air was still, but the world around looked as if it had just been gifted. Jewels hung on every flower, every leaf. It made one feel as they must have felt after being visited by Father Christmas in the classic C. S. Lewis tale. We simply soaked it in.
So many times in life, I have nearly given up hope. Perhaps seeing my life along the lines of so many classic stories----filled with adversity and then ending in happiness, and dare I say, bliss? The reality that life does not necessarily follow the script, was a terrible realization to this romantic mind.
As time goes on, I am realizing something that I never did before. God has given us a life, only one. And in that life, He has sprinkled the good in amongst the bad. Yes, the trials come. Some to test us and some due to our own poor planning. Some that we feel like we will not survive.
Like a white picture on a background of black, the beauty and goodness stands out. We see it and we enjoy it, because of what trials we have gone through. Can we appreciate fully one without the other? I don't think so.
As my children run and dance through crystal fields, I am thankful. Thankful to our Great, Gift-Giver for allowing me to see and appreciate these moments. Thankful that my children are able to dance through the sunshine and the rain. Thankful that I hold the hand of the man I love more than anyone else in the world--my best friend. Yes, thankful that......
Today we saw rainbows.
For weeks, the rain has poured down over middle Tennessee. In the first two days of May, we had already broken the rainfall records for the month. Dark days seemed to be holding a parade, with only occasional breaks for sunshine. Never really drying out though.
Weekends have been spent indoors, and antsy children have been driving mothers crazy everywhere. When the suns dares to show its face, those children beeline for the outside, only to return, trailing rivers of mud. Then you wait. Wait for the floor to dry enough to vacuum. Wait for the clothes and boots to dry, to play some more. And wait for another sunny patch to come.
Today, it was beautiful. The sky was blue. The clouds were huge and puffy. And while it was hot, you could enjoy a breeze under the branches of the trees. Still having Daddy home for part of the day, our family was enjoying the weather close to home.
While parents were soaking in the quiet of the house, our children began shrieking in delight. "Mommy! Daddy! MOMMY! DADDY! It's a sun shower!!" Our youngest came dancing and twirling into the room with hair hanging wet around her face. A beautiful smile of simple pleasure on her freckled, pixie features. The rest soon followed.
"There are TWO rainbows," they exclaimed, "and it looks like one of them ends in the field.?" The question hung at the end, without being asked. "Go find your pot of gold!" said Daddy. And then they were gone.
Following more slowly, we stood behind our house, amazed at the blue sky and sunshine, as the rain continued to pour down. Four heads bobbed across the field. All running to look for whatever their individual pots of gold would look like.
There were TWO rainbows. One over the other. And somehow in the rain and through the sun, everything looked as it might look if you were to view it through a crystal. The air was still, but the world around looked as if it had just been gifted. Jewels hung on every flower, every leaf. It made one feel as they must have felt after being visited by Father Christmas in the classic C. S. Lewis tale. We simply soaked it in.
So many times in life, I have nearly given up hope. Perhaps seeing my life along the lines of so many classic stories----filled with adversity and then ending in happiness, and dare I say, bliss? The reality that life does not necessarily follow the script, was a terrible realization to this romantic mind.
As time goes on, I am realizing something that I never did before. God has given us a life, only one. And in that life, He has sprinkled the good in amongst the bad. Yes, the trials come. Some to test us and some due to our own poor planning. Some that we feel like we will not survive.
Like a white picture on a background of black, the beauty and goodness stands out. We see it and we enjoy it, because of what trials we have gone through. Can we appreciate fully one without the other? I don't think so.
As my children run and dance through crystal fields, I am thankful. Thankful to our Great, Gift-Giver for allowing me to see and appreciate these moments. Thankful that my children are able to dance through the sunshine and the rain. Thankful that I hold the hand of the man I love more than anyone else in the world--my best friend. Yes, thankful that......
Today we saw rainbows.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Come Apart Awhile
I walk out the door, escaping what is feeling like mayhem. That which comes from half a dozen or so children, on a Friday afternoon. I walk out to shut out the sounds and energy that again threaten to overwhelm this mother of four.
A walk to the mailbox is as much a I hope for. Children inside with instruction to complete various "picking up" chores. Thumbing through more mundane mailings, I walk around to the back where I go to gaze at green. For us, an Eden among a city of grime.
Looking away from the street, I can gaze on a combination of field, pond and wood. A multi-hued, green world which teems with life. I breathe, and sit to take it in. I am learning to close out the sounds of traffic and focus on other, smaller sounds. The sounds of winds and wings in branches. Delicate bird-song over the Circadian percussion. Water bubbling over ancient rocks. Furry creatures chatter to one another in wild gossip and daring.
Narrowing my vision, I can see the waving branches of trees and bobbing heads of clover. Dandelion fluff floats by on an unseen current. Cotton clouds cover the sky. Birds of several descriptions flit about, arguing over available food items.
Not content with the senses yet used. I reach out to connect with the coarseness which protects the heart of the tree next to me. Bringing a handful of clover to my nose, I breathe in the freshness.
This beauty I absorb. I take it in, and remind myself that my life is more than a sum of days, of loads of laundry, of dirty dishes, of piling bills. I am alive. I am connected to Creation because I have been made by the same Creator. A Creator Who cared enough to give me this beauty to enjoy.
I think of the others, inside the walls, who are also alive. Made in His image. Given to me for a short time, for the express purpose of imprinting them with Him. "Teach them My words, show them My love, and allow them to learn what it means to connect with Me, their Creator---their Saviour." The Spirit speaks in a still, small voice. I listen.
Such a daunting task for one who is only learning herself, what these things mean. His Word teaches that what He asks of us, He will also provide strength to do. That we may "come apart", but not give up. Can I do less than this for the One Who suffered all for me? No. Because of this, I turn back toward the street, walk in my door, and timidly smile at children----made in His image.
"And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not." (Gal.6:9)
"Holding forth the word of life; that I may rejoice in the day of Christ, that I have not run in vain, neither laboured in vain." (Phil.2:16)
"And he said unto me, 'My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.' Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me." (II Cor. 12:9)
A walk to the mailbox is as much a I hope for. Children inside with instruction to complete various "picking up" chores. Thumbing through more mundane mailings, I walk around to the back where I go to gaze at green. For us, an Eden among a city of grime.
Looking away from the street, I can gaze on a combination of field, pond and wood. A multi-hued, green world which teems with life. I breathe, and sit to take it in. I am learning to close out the sounds of traffic and focus on other, smaller sounds. The sounds of winds and wings in branches. Delicate bird-song over the Circadian percussion. Water bubbling over ancient rocks. Furry creatures chatter to one another in wild gossip and daring.
Narrowing my vision, I can see the waving branches of trees and bobbing heads of clover. Dandelion fluff floats by on an unseen current. Cotton clouds cover the sky. Birds of several descriptions flit about, arguing over available food items.
Not content with the senses yet used. I reach out to connect with the coarseness which protects the heart of the tree next to me. Bringing a handful of clover to my nose, I breathe in the freshness.
This beauty I absorb. I take it in, and remind myself that my life is more than a sum of days, of loads of laundry, of dirty dishes, of piling bills. I am alive. I am connected to Creation because I have been made by the same Creator. A Creator Who cared enough to give me this beauty to enjoy.
I think of the others, inside the walls, who are also alive. Made in His image. Given to me for a short time, for the express purpose of imprinting them with Him. "Teach them My words, show them My love, and allow them to learn what it means to connect with Me, their Creator---their Saviour." The Spirit speaks in a still, small voice. I listen.
Such a daunting task for one who is only learning herself, what these things mean. His Word teaches that what He asks of us, He will also provide strength to do. That we may "come apart", but not give up. Can I do less than this for the One Who suffered all for me? No. Because of this, I turn back toward the street, walk in my door, and timidly smile at children----made in His image.
"And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not." (Gal.6:9)
"Holding forth the word of life; that I may rejoice in the day of Christ, that I have not run in vain, neither laboured in vain." (Phil.2:16)
"And he said unto me, 'My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.' Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me." (II Cor. 12:9)
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
The Least Of These
Finally! A moment of quiet to collect my thoughts, or at least any I can still find to round up. The children are enjoying the evening of sunshine after supper. And here I sit with nothing more on my mind than breathing, and just......being.
With two additional elementary age children this week, we are running (and I mean running), at a faster pace than my nature usually takes us. Three boys. Three girls. All are wonderful children, but I am tired. How can six children eat this much? Can hardly wait for the teenage years. My lack of flexibility mentioned previously is being noticed on a grander scale. If you want the Lord to test you in a certain area, then just blog about it!
Continuing to lead my children through school while entertaining company is interesting, but doable. We are just including them in everthing. Even our study of ancient history! And I have to say, for the most part, they are doing fine. Children ready to give an answer to the Bible questions that arise, or make a list of all the different species of wildlife we see on our excursions. Alright, language lessons become a little more challenging, but I have this week and next to figure out how to make that more interactive.
Once again I have to struggle to not feel overwhelmed with the changes in my routine. I guess that struggle will be a life-long companion. Half-way through the week, with my husband half-way across the country, I wonder if I can maintain the momemtum.
I have asked the Lord to show me ways I can be used, however small. If being available to families who need help with their children is what He has for me, then I am greatful to be used. Frequently, I need to remind myself of why I am doing what I do. The long-range goal often becomes hazy. Couldn't I be used better as a nurse, or missionary, or.......? So often almost anything seems more important than folding one more load of laundry or fixing one more snack (or six).
As I usher our extras out the door into the waiting car, another waits in the wings. As I turn, he tells me of his grandfather's death this week. "Can he come to supper, Mommy?" my seven year old asks. I am not sure that despair does not cloud my vision for a moment, but I say, "Would you like to come in, D----?" "Sure", he replies. After visiting for awhile he says he is going home, but will come back when we are finished with supper. As I call the children to the table, the back door opens. D---- is back with his plate and his cup. "My Mom says she doesn't care if I come eat with ya'll. She's just watching her TV shows."
Flexibility. There it is again. "Have a potato, D---. We have plenty." Daddy may be away, but all six places are filled at our supper table. The kids all eye the cookies on the counter. This is our life. We are blessed to have opportunities to serve, to share.
"As much as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me."
Was that verse written for me, and for those like me? While we long to serve our Lord, we feel hampered by our "responsibilities"-----then the back door opens, and the Lord usshers in our ministry.
"Welcome to our home. Make yourself comfortable."
With two additional elementary age children this week, we are running (and I mean running), at a faster pace than my nature usually takes us. Three boys. Three girls. All are wonderful children, but I am tired. How can six children eat this much? Can hardly wait for the teenage years. My lack of flexibility mentioned previously is being noticed on a grander scale. If you want the Lord to test you in a certain area, then just blog about it!
Continuing to lead my children through school while entertaining company is interesting, but doable. We are just including them in everthing. Even our study of ancient history! And I have to say, for the most part, they are doing fine. Children ready to give an answer to the Bible questions that arise, or make a list of all the different species of wildlife we see on our excursions. Alright, language lessons become a little more challenging, but I have this week and next to figure out how to make that more interactive.
Once again I have to struggle to not feel overwhelmed with the changes in my routine. I guess that struggle will be a life-long companion. Half-way through the week, with my husband half-way across the country, I wonder if I can maintain the momemtum.
I have asked the Lord to show me ways I can be used, however small. If being available to families who need help with their children is what He has for me, then I am greatful to be used. Frequently, I need to remind myself of why I am doing what I do. The long-range goal often becomes hazy. Couldn't I be used better as a nurse, or missionary, or.......? So often almost anything seems more important than folding one more load of laundry or fixing one more snack (or six).
As I usher our extras out the door into the waiting car, another waits in the wings. As I turn, he tells me of his grandfather's death this week. "Can he come to supper, Mommy?" my seven year old asks. I am not sure that despair does not cloud my vision for a moment, but I say, "Would you like to come in, D----?" "Sure", he replies. After visiting for awhile he says he is going home, but will come back when we are finished with supper. As I call the children to the table, the back door opens. D---- is back with his plate and his cup. "My Mom says she doesn't care if I come eat with ya'll. She's just watching her TV shows."
Flexibility. There it is again. "Have a potato, D---. We have plenty." Daddy may be away, but all six places are filled at our supper table. The kids all eye the cookies on the counter. This is our life. We are blessed to have opportunities to serve, to share.
"As much as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me."
Was that verse written for me, and for those like me? While we long to serve our Lord, we feel hampered by our "responsibilities"-----then the back door opens, and the Lord usshers in our ministry.
"Welcome to our home. Make yourself comfortable."
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Bits and Pieces of Life
Toy cars. Stacks of playdoh containers. Sheet music. Children's artword. Laundry. A dog crate. Shoes. And mud everywhere. It has been raining alot lately. As I sit among it all, I feel tired, and sad, and happy, and overwhelmed.
These are the bits and pieces of our life. Crazy and packed with "stuff". Do we use it all? Maybe. Yet if I forget the meaning of it, I become overwhelmed. Will I ever climb out from under it all, and be happy to welcome company at any time they drop by? Possibly, but probably not. Not enough to meet my perfectionistic ideals.
Maybe, once again, I am looking at it all wrong. Bits and pieces of our life. Little vignettes of childhood. Of family. Clutter that I would not have if it were not for these beautiful little people given to us by our Creator.
Some of my most special memories are those made at my Gram Ruth's home with the most amazing layers of "clutter" accumulated over decades. Yet there we were never happier or felt more loved. As children, we amused ourselves for hours at a time, sorting through "treasures" of decades past. Among the dust and debris, I learned to value the past. Each treasure brought with it glimpses of another life. Every broken toy, tattered book or ancient picture opened my eyes to a world that I wanted to share in. Bits and pieces of history---my history.
While others my age were turned off to the older generation, I was drawn to them, as oracles of the past. Each gray hair and wrinkled feature, spoke to me of a life story, yet untold. How I wish I could know and share with you each of those stories. Many were lost behind glassy eyes and vacant memories. At times I wept, knowing that another "past" was lost to us.
I am thrilled to know that another of my grandmothers, who also values the past, is even now writing the history of our family. She does it for me, for my children and grandchildren. The day that I can read that story to my children will be a wonderful time. They too can connect with their past.
So as I sit among my clutter of today, I wonder if someday it will be the clutter of the past. If anyone will wonder who it was that saved each little piece. Instead of the past, I have my present, filled with chaos and clutter and love. Bits and pieces of a life that is imperfect, but that is full. Why not offer the opportunity to others to enter our cluttered world of love. Maybe we can offer something special to someone else.
Thank-you, Lord, for the clutter of my life. May I see each stack as a beautiful snap-shot of Your love and bountiful blessings. Help me to get rid of that which hinders, but to realize that clutter comes with life. You have given me so much. Help me live in today, clutter and all, so that my children will have memories tomorrow. Help us to share our home and our memories with those around us.
These are the bits and pieces of our life. Crazy and packed with "stuff". Do we use it all? Maybe. Yet if I forget the meaning of it, I become overwhelmed. Will I ever climb out from under it all, and be happy to welcome company at any time they drop by? Possibly, but probably not. Not enough to meet my perfectionistic ideals.
Maybe, once again, I am looking at it all wrong. Bits and pieces of our life. Little vignettes of childhood. Of family. Clutter that I would not have if it were not for these beautiful little people given to us by our Creator.
Some of my most special memories are those made at my Gram Ruth's home with the most amazing layers of "clutter" accumulated over decades. Yet there we were never happier or felt more loved. As children, we amused ourselves for hours at a time, sorting through "treasures" of decades past. Among the dust and debris, I learned to value the past. Each treasure brought with it glimpses of another life. Every broken toy, tattered book or ancient picture opened my eyes to a world that I wanted to share in. Bits and pieces of history---my history.
While others my age were turned off to the older generation, I was drawn to them, as oracles of the past. Each gray hair and wrinkled feature, spoke to me of a life story, yet untold. How I wish I could know and share with you each of those stories. Many were lost behind glassy eyes and vacant memories. At times I wept, knowing that another "past" was lost to us.
I am thrilled to know that another of my grandmothers, who also values the past, is even now writing the history of our family. She does it for me, for my children and grandchildren. The day that I can read that story to my children will be a wonderful time. They too can connect with their past.
So as I sit among my clutter of today, I wonder if someday it will be the clutter of the past. If anyone will wonder who it was that saved each little piece. Instead of the past, I have my present, filled with chaos and clutter and love. Bits and pieces of a life that is imperfect, but that is full. Why not offer the opportunity to others to enter our cluttered world of love. Maybe we can offer something special to someone else.
Thank-you, Lord, for the clutter of my life. May I see each stack as a beautiful snap-shot of Your love and bountiful blessings. Help me to get rid of that which hinders, but to realize that clutter comes with life. You have given me so much. Help me live in today, clutter and all, so that my children will have memories tomorrow. Help us to share our home and our memories with those around us.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Flexibility---a mother's perspective
Flexibility is not one of those character traits that I ever felt I really owned. I'm an all or nothing kind of girl. That can sometimes be great, but most of the time it is just a great big road block in my life. In the realm of housework, it just DOES NOT WORK! If you don't believe me, just try it for a week. It usually ends up with me either spending an 8 hour day washing dishes, or my husband arriving home at the end of the week only to find he must go invest in large packages of disposible dinnerware. How bad is that? Not the way I want my kids growing up!
Into the homeschool realm, unfortunately, I carry this lack of character. Flexible? Yes, if you mean, "can I bend over to do the wash?" When it comes to things upsetting my well-laid (or not so well-laid; depends on who you ask) plans, I just don't adapt well. I have been a mother for almost 12 years. One would think, that by now I would be an expert at adapting. But for each time my plans have fallen through (in my terms, "failure"), I seem to have only become more determined to succeed at my next set of plans. I have heard that what we learn from history is that we never learn from history. Sad, but true.
Knowing that I would be babysitting alot over the next couple of weeks, I made a snap decision to try a new lesson schedule that would totally change the way our homeschool works---started yesterday. Hmmmmm. Today I have a toddler and a preschooler added to the mix. Maybe I would become more flexible if I developed a better method of planning. No doubt I will make a plan to work on that soon, too.
As my morning schedule deteriorated one minute at a time, I resorted to my default mode of general waspishness (not a character trait I am really looking to pass on). Coffee can only overcome so much, and it wasn't working here. OK. Scrap the schedule. There is no partial schedule with me. No siree... "Go play kids! This isn't going to work." I sit down to drown my sorrows in e-bay when I hear my daughter gently talking with the youngest visitor of the house. Thoughtfully, she plays and interacts with the younger children, in spite of the fact that her routine (she's a routine girl) has been tromped all over. I am humbled. Why is it that in 36 years of life I have not been able conquer this area? I should have been the one to adapt and pull everyone together for a time of stories and gentle group learning.
The Lord uses so many things to get our attention, not the least of which is our children. I frequently feel the Lord gave them to me for that purpose, and that I am getting the better end of the deal. Can I be the mother they need? What was I thinking? The truth is that very few people know what they are getting into when they have children. They bring out the best and the worst in us, and yet still love us, unconditionally. Wow.
This afternoon we are having a thunderstorm. The rumblings have been going on now for awhile. That same daughter says, "I hope it rains, we always have such a good time together when it rains." (Yes, she is my daughter; can you believe it?) So we will enjoy the time. Read a little. Hang out. Definitely learn a little. No, it might not have anything to do with spelling, but it will be beneficial.
I am marking it down. Tomorrow I am going to work on my plan to become flexible. We'll see how that goes.
Into the homeschool realm, unfortunately, I carry this lack of character. Flexible? Yes, if you mean, "can I bend over to do the wash?" When it comes to things upsetting my well-laid (or not so well-laid; depends on who you ask) plans, I just don't adapt well. I have been a mother for almost 12 years. One would think, that by now I would be an expert at adapting. But for each time my plans have fallen through (in my terms, "failure"), I seem to have only become more determined to succeed at my next set of plans. I have heard that what we learn from history is that we never learn from history. Sad, but true.
Knowing that I would be babysitting alot over the next couple of weeks, I made a snap decision to try a new lesson schedule that would totally change the way our homeschool works---started yesterday. Hmmmmm. Today I have a toddler and a preschooler added to the mix. Maybe I would become more flexible if I developed a better method of planning. No doubt I will make a plan to work on that soon, too.
As my morning schedule deteriorated one minute at a time, I resorted to my default mode of general waspishness (not a character trait I am really looking to pass on). Coffee can only overcome so much, and it wasn't working here. OK. Scrap the schedule. There is no partial schedule with me. No siree... "Go play kids! This isn't going to work." I sit down to drown my sorrows in e-bay when I hear my daughter gently talking with the youngest visitor of the house. Thoughtfully, she plays and interacts with the younger children, in spite of the fact that her routine (she's a routine girl) has been tromped all over. I am humbled. Why is it that in 36 years of life I have not been able conquer this area? I should have been the one to adapt and pull everyone together for a time of stories and gentle group learning.
The Lord uses so many things to get our attention, not the least of which is our children. I frequently feel the Lord gave them to me for that purpose, and that I am getting the better end of the deal. Can I be the mother they need? What was I thinking? The truth is that very few people know what they are getting into when they have children. They bring out the best and the worst in us, and yet still love us, unconditionally. Wow.
This afternoon we are having a thunderstorm. The rumblings have been going on now for awhile. That same daughter says, "I hope it rains, we always have such a good time together when it rains." (Yes, she is my daughter; can you believe it?) So we will enjoy the time. Read a little. Hang out. Definitely learn a little. No, it might not have anything to do with spelling, but it will be beneficial.
I am marking it down. Tomorrow I am going to work on my plan to become flexible. We'll see how that goes.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
In time of need
Thoughts and feelings swirl. So many conflicting emotions threaten to smother. The palette of life becomes muddy with colors running together. No beauty can come from this. It is a painting of turmoil and despair. Hopelessness reaches its bony fingers into the mind and cuts off connection to reality. No one can love. I can't love.
These are the feelings of one who suffers with depression. Millions around us suffer in this way day after day. I have been that person. From the time I was a child, the feelings of self-hate and despair would overwhelm. When those feelings come, the soul pushes away from the world. Reality only heightens the pain. Some go to drugs or alcohol, for others they may become compulsive in any number of different areas. Anything to numb the pain, the hopelessness. For me it was sleep. Sleep was the only relief from the sense that nothing will ever change, I am stuck here forever.
There is no better word that I can use to describe depression than hopelessness. It partners with despair to leave the victim hiding away like a person hiding from an intruder in their home. "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" I have called out to that nameless demon that oppresses without relief.
Throughout my life I have constantly struggled with identity. Who was I? How could I be a Christian who had given her life to the Lord and still be controlled by these types of issues? As I have grown older, my symptoms have often been almost invisible, at least to those around me. Often I am told, "You are doing so well." And I think, you know they are right. I am doing better....but why? I believe that experience has taught me the warning signs to watch for in myself. Someone once told me that depression itself is not sin, it is what we do with it that can lead to sin. I believe that. When I struggled with identity, I felt torn between two different personalities. I felt crazy. Since then I have realized that I have come to view the depression as a person. I can sense the presence of 'him', and at times, I still panic with the thought that I cannot escape this intruder.
In Ephesian 6 we read, "For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against rulers of wickedness in high places." Some people have trouble seeing that as a reality. I don't.....I have seen the shadow of that power, as have so many others that have faced this intruder called depression.
I can tell you that Christians, in general, caused me more pain and grief than anyone else during the worst years. I do not intend to debate theology on this issue--only to share so that more might better understand the pain of the depressed around them. From the outside looking in, many people feel they understand the problems and solutions of those who struggle with depression and panic. Many are ready to offer their opinions, much like Job's friends did. If that is all you can offer, then stay away, but, if you have thick skin and the ability to just be there, then go. Find those around you who desparately need you and just love them unconditionally, without judgment. And thank the Lord that you were spared that particular affliction.
If, like me, you understand because you have lived in that hiding place. If you have felt the cold grip of those fingers of hopelessness, then please know that you are not alone. The God who made us is not surprised by our weaknesses. He knows the demons that nest at our back doors (for we all have them), and He weeps with us. Outstretched, nail-pierced hands are held out, waiting for His weak and weary children to have the faith to run into them, out of the range of "the fiery darts of the wicked." (Eph. 6:16b)
"For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need." (Heb. 4:15, 16)
Pray, pray, pray.....no matter which side of this subject you are on. Pray for yourself and for those you know that struggle with these afflictions. Whether physically or spiritually induced, Satan is working at a feverish pace to slow the work of Christ in this world. He will attack at any place he can. We must remember that our Leader, our Saviour, is with us and has already been through it all. If we will hold onto Him, He will use us to further His Kingdom in spite of our weaknesses.
"He hath said, 'I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.'" (Hebrews 13:5b)
These are the feelings of one who suffers with depression. Millions around us suffer in this way day after day. I have been that person. From the time I was a child, the feelings of self-hate and despair would overwhelm. When those feelings come, the soul pushes away from the world. Reality only heightens the pain. Some go to drugs or alcohol, for others they may become compulsive in any number of different areas. Anything to numb the pain, the hopelessness. For me it was sleep. Sleep was the only relief from the sense that nothing will ever change, I am stuck here forever.
There is no better word that I can use to describe depression than hopelessness. It partners with despair to leave the victim hiding away like a person hiding from an intruder in their home. "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" I have called out to that nameless demon that oppresses without relief.
Throughout my life I have constantly struggled with identity. Who was I? How could I be a Christian who had given her life to the Lord and still be controlled by these types of issues? As I have grown older, my symptoms have often been almost invisible, at least to those around me. Often I am told, "You are doing so well." And I think, you know they are right. I am doing better....but why? I believe that experience has taught me the warning signs to watch for in myself. Someone once told me that depression itself is not sin, it is what we do with it that can lead to sin. I believe that. When I struggled with identity, I felt torn between two different personalities. I felt crazy. Since then I have realized that I have come to view the depression as a person. I can sense the presence of 'him', and at times, I still panic with the thought that I cannot escape this intruder.
In Ephesian 6 we read, "For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against rulers of wickedness in high places." Some people have trouble seeing that as a reality. I don't.....I have seen the shadow of that power, as have so many others that have faced this intruder called depression.
I can tell you that Christians, in general, caused me more pain and grief than anyone else during the worst years. I do not intend to debate theology on this issue--only to share so that more might better understand the pain of the depressed around them. From the outside looking in, many people feel they understand the problems and solutions of those who struggle with depression and panic. Many are ready to offer their opinions, much like Job's friends did. If that is all you can offer, then stay away, but, if you have thick skin and the ability to just be there, then go. Find those around you who desparately need you and just love them unconditionally, without judgment. And thank the Lord that you were spared that particular affliction.
If, like me, you understand because you have lived in that hiding place. If you have felt the cold grip of those fingers of hopelessness, then please know that you are not alone. The God who made us is not surprised by our weaknesses. He knows the demons that nest at our back doors (for we all have them), and He weeps with us. Outstretched, nail-pierced hands are held out, waiting for His weak and weary children to have the faith to run into them, out of the range of "the fiery darts of the wicked." (Eph. 6:16b)
"For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need." (Heb. 4:15, 16)
Pray, pray, pray.....no matter which side of this subject you are on. Pray for yourself and for those you know that struggle with these afflictions. Whether physically or spiritually induced, Satan is working at a feverish pace to slow the work of Christ in this world. He will attack at any place he can. We must remember that our Leader, our Saviour, is with us and has already been through it all. If we will hold onto Him, He will use us to further His Kingdom in spite of our weaknesses.
"He hath said, 'I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.'" (Hebrews 13:5b)
Thursday, May 6, 2010
When the biscuits don't rise....
Last night I went to bed with a plan. Now that in itself is monumental. Yesterday I listened to a couple of convicting messages that reminded me of the need to have a heart for my home. Of late, I have been greatly remiss in this area. Travel, sickness and bad weather have all contributed to my overall "blahness". In short, I have succumbed to my lazy self.
So, last night I thought, "Tonight I will go to bed early, rise early and make biscuits for my children's breakfast. That will be just the right start to my day, and will motivate me to continue accomplishing great feats all day long. My baking waves come in shifts. There are times when I am baking constantly, but recently I have hardly used my oven. Because of this, I was relying on the biscuit recipe. When I am baking alot, I can throw them together quickly, but not today.
Let me interject that I began this endeavor before making the coffee. My kitchen being exceedingly tiny, I cannot reach my coffee pot if I have any dishes drying on the counter. Faced with this problem, I decided to start the biscuits before putting away dishes. (You know what they say about hindsight, right?)
The problems began when my oldest, very responsible daughter, reminded me of something I needed to get to the mail. My daughters offered to work on mixing while I took care of that. Coming back into the kitchen moments later I found what appeared to have been a severe storm of wind and flour. As calmly as possible, I took over where I had left off. Then I carefully measured 1/2 cup of shortening into my flour mixture. Unfortunately, that was the amount needed in the biscuit recipe directly below mine in the cookbook. I only needed 1/4 cup. Just as I had begun blending, I realized my mistake and issued my standard, "Oh shoot!" Daughter looked on sadly as she realized Mommy just did something that jeapordized the hot breakfast she was looking forward to. What could I do but add in another four cups of flour, etc, etc. All the while I am looking longingly at the stack of dishes that hide my coffee.
Rolling out the dough I have that feeling within that forewarns me of disasterous results. Again, what can I do now, but cut and bake? In the oven they go----and out they come looking like hocky pucks. Grrrr.....nothing ruins my day more than putting effort into making bread and having it come out like this.
I turn from the biscuit "disaster", put away my dishes, turn on my coffee pot and breathe. No, my biscuits didn't rise, but this past weekend, the water did. Thousands of people all around me lost their homes, belongings, pictures, money, pets and some, even family members. How greatful I am that I still have a kitchen to make "disasters" in. That my children are safe and enjoying (yes, enjoying) flat biscuits this morning. Flat biscuits will not ruin my day. Choruses of "These are good, Mommy!" make me smile. We will celebrate this Day of Prayer with prayers of thankfulness to the God Who cares for us so beautifully, and in supplication for the great needs of those around us. Most of all, their need to know the God of the universe. Our blessed Redeemer that we look for, and long for, more each day.
"Even so, come Lord Jesus." Revelation 22:20b
So, last night I thought, "Tonight I will go to bed early, rise early and make biscuits for my children's breakfast. That will be just the right start to my day, and will motivate me to continue accomplishing great feats all day long. My baking waves come in shifts. There are times when I am baking constantly, but recently I have hardly used my oven. Because of this, I was relying on the biscuit recipe. When I am baking alot, I can throw them together quickly, but not today.
Let me interject that I began this endeavor before making the coffee. My kitchen being exceedingly tiny, I cannot reach my coffee pot if I have any dishes drying on the counter. Faced with this problem, I decided to start the biscuits before putting away dishes. (You know what they say about hindsight, right?)
The problems began when my oldest, very responsible daughter, reminded me of something I needed to get to the mail. My daughters offered to work on mixing while I took care of that. Coming back into the kitchen moments later I found what appeared to have been a severe storm of wind and flour. As calmly as possible, I took over where I had left off. Then I carefully measured 1/2 cup of shortening into my flour mixture. Unfortunately, that was the amount needed in the biscuit recipe directly below mine in the cookbook. I only needed 1/4 cup. Just as I had begun blending, I realized my mistake and issued my standard, "Oh shoot!" Daughter looked on sadly as she realized Mommy just did something that jeapordized the hot breakfast she was looking forward to. What could I do but add in another four cups of flour, etc, etc. All the while I am looking longingly at the stack of dishes that hide my coffee.
Rolling out the dough I have that feeling within that forewarns me of disasterous results. Again, what can I do now, but cut and bake? In the oven they go----and out they come looking like hocky pucks. Grrrr.....nothing ruins my day more than putting effort into making bread and having it come out like this.
I turn from the biscuit "disaster", put away my dishes, turn on my coffee pot and breathe. No, my biscuits didn't rise, but this past weekend, the water did. Thousands of people all around me lost their homes, belongings, pictures, money, pets and some, even family members. How greatful I am that I still have a kitchen to make "disasters" in. That my children are safe and enjoying (yes, enjoying) flat biscuits this morning. Flat biscuits will not ruin my day. Choruses of "These are good, Mommy!" make me smile. We will celebrate this Day of Prayer with prayers of thankfulness to the God Who cares for us so beautifully, and in supplication for the great needs of those around us. Most of all, their need to know the God of the universe. Our blessed Redeemer that we look for, and long for, more each day.
"Even so, come Lord Jesus." Revelation 22:20b
Monday, May 3, 2010
Beauty----gift of our Creator
Beauty. For so many women it is food for the soul---our inner beings long for it, but it is so often lost or forgotten in the midst of the mundane. Many times we don't even realize that we are missing it until we come across some small remembrance. Maybe a scene in nature, maybe the curve of your little ones' cheek while they sleep, often it is music. Sometimes it can be a simple scent that will take our minds and hearts to a different place.
While I dream of having a beautiful home, the reality is that it is a cramped conglomeration of odds, ends, papers and pens and mostly broken toys. My mind is so focused on that next load of laundry and that child's stubborn resistance to my teaching that I forget to connect with that other side of me. There was a time that I felt much more connected to that beauty loving soul within. Was it motherhood, or the continual stream of losses accumulating in my life that separated me from that other me?
I believe we are programmed as women to become task oriented. To focus on accomplishing our chores. We work, sometimes we slave, and then it all comes crashing down when we lose the control we have been working so hard to maintain. Some poor, unsuspecting soul steps into our path at precisely the wrong moment, and all of our pent up emotions come bursting forth. Too often that soul is one to which we should be giving our best---one of our beautiful children or the man we call husband. What follows is often difficult and almost always results in pain. It becomes so easy to blame anyone and anything for all the things that are wrong in our lives.
Wait. What if it is us? What if that desire in our souls for beauty is that special part of us placed there by our Creator? What if He made us to need beauty much like we need food or sleep. Yes, women do need to have servants' hearts. Yes, we are responsible for so much. But what if we take time to nurture that beauty seed in our hearts? Our husbands and our children cannot do this for us. I think that our Great Creator has more in mind for us than a quick verse and "help me" prayer each day. He has filled our world with His artistry, and He expects us to breathe it in and be strengthened by it. By His Word, yes. But why must we categorize our lives into practical and impractical? Why do we look on the practical as "that better part"? As Jesus told Martha in regards to her acts of service---not that they weren't needed, but that there was something better. Mary chose the better part---having her soul fed by her dear Jesus.
If tomorrow we look for the beautiful, enjoy it, and thank our Creator for it, will we then be less equipped for the jobs at hand? My beauty-starved soul shouts out, "No! For then I will be nourished and ready to give my best out to those who are so dear." May I look for and allow myself beauty, and may I pass it on to my family and others who may come my way.
"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness neither shadow of turning." James 1:17
"One thing have I desired of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the LORD, and to enquire in his temple." Psalm 27:4
We should be looking with anxious anticipation for that day when we will live in that beautiful house of the LORD forever. Perhaps we have been created with the ability to feel and appreciate beauty so that we might look forward to an eternity of having our souls full to overflowing with the beauty that we cannot now even comprehend. Maybe all of these other remembrances we have here are just tiny glimpses of what will be beauty eternal.
Thank-You, Heavenly Father for the beauty you bring into my life each day. Let me be nourished and strengthened by this gift from you. And let me not be ashamed to nourish a need in me that was planted there by Your loving hand.
While I dream of having a beautiful home, the reality is that it is a cramped conglomeration of odds, ends, papers and pens and mostly broken toys. My mind is so focused on that next load of laundry and that child's stubborn resistance to my teaching that I forget to connect with that other side of me. There was a time that I felt much more connected to that beauty loving soul within. Was it motherhood, or the continual stream of losses accumulating in my life that separated me from that other me?
I believe we are programmed as women to become task oriented. To focus on accomplishing our chores. We work, sometimes we slave, and then it all comes crashing down when we lose the control we have been working so hard to maintain. Some poor, unsuspecting soul steps into our path at precisely the wrong moment, and all of our pent up emotions come bursting forth. Too often that soul is one to which we should be giving our best---one of our beautiful children or the man we call husband. What follows is often difficult and almost always results in pain. It becomes so easy to blame anyone and anything for all the things that are wrong in our lives.
Wait. What if it is us? What if that desire in our souls for beauty is that special part of us placed there by our Creator? What if He made us to need beauty much like we need food or sleep. Yes, women do need to have servants' hearts. Yes, we are responsible for so much. But what if we take time to nurture that beauty seed in our hearts? Our husbands and our children cannot do this for us. I think that our Great Creator has more in mind for us than a quick verse and "help me" prayer each day. He has filled our world with His artistry, and He expects us to breathe it in and be strengthened by it. By His Word, yes. But why must we categorize our lives into practical and impractical? Why do we look on the practical as "that better part"? As Jesus told Martha in regards to her acts of service---not that they weren't needed, but that there was something better. Mary chose the better part---having her soul fed by her dear Jesus.
If tomorrow we look for the beautiful, enjoy it, and thank our Creator for it, will we then be less equipped for the jobs at hand? My beauty-starved soul shouts out, "No! For then I will be nourished and ready to give my best out to those who are so dear." May I look for and allow myself beauty, and may I pass it on to my family and others who may come my way.
"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness neither shadow of turning." James 1:17
"One thing have I desired of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the LORD, and to enquire in his temple." Psalm 27:4
We should be looking with anxious anticipation for that day when we will live in that beautiful house of the LORD forever. Perhaps we have been created with the ability to feel and appreciate beauty so that we might look forward to an eternity of having our souls full to overflowing with the beauty that we cannot now even comprehend. Maybe all of these other remembrances we have here are just tiny glimpses of what will be beauty eternal.
Thank-You, Heavenly Father for the beauty you bring into my life each day. Let me be nourished and strengthened by this gift from you. And let me not be ashamed to nourish a need in me that was planted there by Your loving hand.
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