The kids run, crazy and loud, and the dog barks because the kids are running. In the midst of chaos we sip coffee and tea and talk of life--the good and the bad. A child runs through laughing, arms loaded with toys. Another comes crying from a bump on the head---a result of a new game involving checker throwing. He moves on. We go back to talking. Our souls refreshed by simply being with another who understands.
Husband says the bill for the car is more than expected. Somehow, having another to share that makes it more okay. Phone calls, more children running, Caladryl cream applied to skin rashes, lunches made.
We bow our heads over sandwiches and thank God for the chance to share and feel and bond with another who understands. Amens said in unison, for each prays the same prayer.
Gifts given by the Father are so many and so varied. Yet the gift of a true friend is special. He knew we would need those to encourage us along the way. He is our truest Friend, but because He loves us, He allows us those who we can hug and love here. Those who will listen to our fears and pains and empathize and who will also share in our joys.
Life goes on, but short little times taken to encourage another, encourages ourselves. We part knowing we are stronger and more ready to do the job given to us by our Heavenly Father. Thank-you, Lord for the gift of friendship.
"Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend." (Prov. 27:17)
"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)
Owl's Head Lighthouse, Owl's Head, ME
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Thursday, July 22, 2010
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.
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
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Out of my comfort zone
For the past couple of days I have been itching to get back here and write my thoughts. Each time I would think "I just need a few minutes of quiet to be able to process my thoughts." I have the quiet now, but I think my processor may be down.
It is just one of those weeks. Usually the kids and I spend our time pretty quietly at home. That works well for me. My husband proudly refers to me as antisocial---I think he's just making the point that opposites attract, but he does know me pretty well. While I can hold my own with people, it is sooo much easier to let my gregarious, charming husband take care of the day to day PR. Since he is usually gone Monday through Friday, I have to occassionally step out in the light of day myself. This week is one of those.
Doctor's appointments. I dread them more than, well, just about anything. People who know me are sometimes surprised by that, considering I am a nurse. That is actually a large part of the reason. I have very little patience for inefficiency, rudeness and most of all the tramping all over of parental rights that routinely goes on in the doctors' offices. Since moving to TN we have spent more than our allotted Dr. visits for sickness and injuries. Now I am taking the plunge and starting the well-child visits. Yeah.
Right now I am praying, seriously praying, that the doctor the kids see will be one that respects parents' rights, that has an open mind about home-schooling and that appreciates family values. A doctor like that could possibly change my mind about taking my kids for physicals.
Unfortunately, many times physicians and others make people feel that to be a good parent they must agree and follow all suggestions by those medical personnel. While I respect the knowledge that they have, I have to remember that I know my children and will make decisions based on what is best for them and for our family. As a nurse, I worked to protect and stand up for the rights of my patients. I will do no less for my children.
Knowing the potential for stress, I will definitely need to take a few minutes with a cup of coffee and some prayer. The Lord knows my fears and my weaknesses, but He also knows the love I have for my children. Its hard to believe that He feels that way about me. And He loves my kids more than I can even fathom. With that in mind, I can go do this, and look forward to that cup of coffee that I am going to reward myself with when its over.
It is just one of those weeks. Usually the kids and I spend our time pretty quietly at home. That works well for me. My husband proudly refers to me as antisocial---I think he's just making the point that opposites attract, but he does know me pretty well. While I can hold my own with people, it is sooo much easier to let my gregarious, charming husband take care of the day to day PR. Since he is usually gone Monday through Friday, I have to occassionally step out in the light of day myself. This week is one of those.
Doctor's appointments. I dread them more than, well, just about anything. People who know me are sometimes surprised by that, considering I am a nurse. That is actually a large part of the reason. I have very little patience for inefficiency, rudeness and most of all the tramping all over of parental rights that routinely goes on in the doctors' offices. Since moving to TN we have spent more than our allotted Dr. visits for sickness and injuries. Now I am taking the plunge and starting the well-child visits. Yeah.
Right now I am praying, seriously praying, that the doctor the kids see will be one that respects parents' rights, that has an open mind about home-schooling and that appreciates family values. A doctor like that could possibly change my mind about taking my kids for physicals.
Unfortunately, many times physicians and others make people feel that to be a good parent they must agree and follow all suggestions by those medical personnel. While I respect the knowledge that they have, I have to remember that I know my children and will make decisions based on what is best for them and for our family. As a nurse, I worked to protect and stand up for the rights of my patients. I will do no less for my children.
Knowing the potential for stress, I will definitely need to take a few minutes with a cup of coffee and some prayer. The Lord knows my fears and my weaknesses, but He also knows the love I have for my children. Its hard to believe that He feels that way about me. And He loves my kids more than I can even fathom. With that in mind, I can go do this, and look forward to that cup of coffee that I am going to reward myself with when its over.
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