The Rock House, Part 3

On my last visit to the rock house, Mom directed to me a card table stacked with papers and photos.  She said I could have any of it I wanted to keep, that most of it had been duplicated somewhere else and it was headed for the recycle bin.  Everyone else who had come for a last tour had already sifted through and kept what they wanted.

It took me a couple of hours to go through the piles.  It was all familiar, and yes, I already had duplicates of some of it.  One folder grabbed my attention, though.  It was the master copy of a notebook my Grandma had made for her grandchildren.  She photocopied one of those fill-in-the-blank template books with writing prompts to complete.  She had filled it all in, personalized for each of her 14 grandchildren, and gifted it to us in 1990.

I was 13.  We had been living with her for a year.  Sure it was cool that I lived in Grandma's big, fancy rock house.  My friends always wanted to know what it looked like inside.  Yes, the cookie jar was never empty.  But I regret that I completely missed the opportunity to harvest her wisdom, to listen to her stories, to tell her my own problems, to ask her advice.  I was young and didn't know better, self-absorbed and arrogant, thinking adults were clueless and couldn't possibly add any value to my circumstances.

My copy of the notebook piled up with other keepsakes and moved to a few new houses over the years.  I don't remember ever reading it.  At least, when I started reading the pages this time, it was very new.  Maybe it was seeing her original handwriting, or the years that added value, or my own experience as a mom wanting to impart meaning to my children.  Whatever the reason, her words were much weightier, more personal, valuable, significant.

"We still remember when you...'all were together at home and it is so hard to be alone now that Grandpa is gone.'

"I am happy that we all...'have so many good times to remember.  I hope that Grandpa and I have taught you all good things to remember.'

"I think our family is special because...'we all love each other so much and are all friends.'

"I was proud of...'the way my family could work and play together.  I was proud that I had learned to oil paint when all the children were in college and away from home.'

"I was always sorry I didn't...'travel more and get Grandpa to go with me, but he didn't like to travel as much as I did.'

"I felt very strongly about...'my family and home, and would not leave if I thought someone at home needed me.'

"I've changed my mind, and now I think...'women should have some time to do what they want to do, once in a while.  Don't wait until you are too old to go and do things.'

"My wish for the future is...'that all my family, children and grandchildren, will stay friends.  I want them to know each other and be able to play and work together.  I hope and pray that they are all Christians and love the Lord Jesus Christ.  May we be able to all be together often.  May none have to go to war.  May we all be proud of the name Grandpa gave us and keep it clean and good.  God bless each of you.  I love you all.'"

It is encouraging to me as a mom to read her words.  I never would have cherished them as a teen.  And this is another reminder that learning is a lifelong journey, not to be demanded immediately.  What I didn't grasp then, I am starting to understand now.  And it is the same for my children.  They can't fathom the depths of emotion those words stir, and I can't make them understand.  I can't demand that they value the blessing of grandparents nearby.  I can't force them to cherish every story.  I can't guarantee they won't take it completely for granted.  It will only be their own years and experiences that will prove these values in their hearts.  Like those who have hoed this row before me, it is mine to sow the seeds and wait patiently for the harvest, trusting the yield to Him who is able to give much more than I could ask or imagine.

What I Learned This Summer

I don't ever remember having to write a report about what I learned during the summer.  Maybe that's just in the movies.  You get my first attempt.

Around late spring/early summer, I was really discouraged with my kids' behavior.  It seemed all three were pushing my buttons and boundaries.  None of them were obeying the way I thought they should and I could not be consistent enough to get the results I wanted.

I turned to the all-knowing google.  Surely someone out there has had the same problem and will have the magic trick that I can put into practice and smooth out all the bumps in this rocky road.  I know, it sounds ridiculous to me too.  But I bet I'm not the only one who's done it.

One of the first hits was this article by Sally Clarkson.  It isn't a new article, but it was new to me.  It really made me think.  And do a parenting overhaul.

Somewhere along the way, I had adopted the first-time obedience mandate as biblical.  I didn't even think about it.  I didn't subject it to scripture.  I didn't pray about it.  The authors of the parenting books I read told me God wanted my children to obey right away, all the way, with a happy heart.  And if I consistently disciplined them, they would.  If they didn't, I was doing something wrong and I was endangering their souls.  I couldn't do it.  They didn't do it.  We were all horrible at it.  No wonder I was discouraged!

So the first thing I learned this summer was that I need to be much more careful about what I allow into my mind and into my parenting toolbox.  Sally's article reminded me that God's word is the best authority on parenting and I can take all of my frustrations to the real all-knowing Source who has power to actually help with my individual problem.  I knew this in my head, but I obviously had not practiced it.  I was shocked at myself and have tried to scrutinize my parenting to see what is biblical and what is manmade.  

I have also traded in parenting books for child development books.  I was referred to this series by Louise Bates Ames by three different sources in about two weeks, so I checked them out from my library.  Very refreshing and encouraging to read about characteristic behaviors at these ages and know that the thing I am battling really is "just a phase" and will likely subside in a few months or at least be easier to address.  

Sally's article also reminded me that righteousness is a life-long journey.  Talking it over with a dear friend, I said out loud what I couldn't seem to put into practice...if I can't get it right, why in the world would I expect my kids to?  It's time to surrender my unrealistic expectation that they will be "done" when they leave my nest.  God's plan for them may be to smooth out that rough edge through their spouse, an employer, a college roommate, their own children.  His is a process of sanctification, not a moment of completeness.  Parenting really is a marathon, and I probably will not witness my children cross the finish line.  They will still be running the good race after I am long gone.  This is so encouraging to me.  What a relief!  

God pricked my soul with a recent daily scripture reading.  I came across 1 John 4:18, "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love."  I'm still working out how this applies to my parenting.  But I'm very grateful that God is perfecting me in love and not fear.  

Please go read the article.  Pray about it.  Subject it to scripture.  Tell me what you think.  And tell me, what did you learn this summer?

Isn't it Ironic?

Last winter/spring, we were sick a lot.  Every week, one of us had some kind of symptom that kept us from being wholly well.  I started thinking this summer about things we could do to avoid a repeat of that season.  I'm sure some of it is due to moving and adjusting to a new environment with new contagions and allergens.  Some of it is due to having a baby who put everything in his mouth and is too young to take most kinds of medicine.

But I thought it couldn't hurt to try to beef up our immune systems going into the fall/winter.  I researched supplements and started the kids on probiotics, along with a vitamin c/zinc combo.  I've even gotten J to succumb to the supplement slippery slope.  

I started hearing Alanis Morrisette singing in my ear on Friday, though, as I realized none of the above protected us from getting lice exactly one week after starting all my get-healthy endeavors.  Isn't it ironic?  Don't you think?

Recipe of the Year

Start with a birthday party for a two-year-old who soon after gave up her naps,

add one cranky pregnant mommy,

one daddy starting half-a-dozen new businesses, and

one precocious four-year-old ballerina.

Stir in the privilege of leading a great small group,

coordinating fun playgroups,

and a heaping heartful of treasured friendships.

Don't forget to chop up the homeschool planning and add it in gradually.

Just as the pregnancy starts to come to a long, slow simmer, 

splash in a little "we-might-need-to-move" to keep things spicy.

Once the baby has arrived, allow the whole mix to rest for just a week or two;

too long and you risk having a dull moment.  

Dump in a whole chunk of "we-have-to-move-in-two-months."  

Stand back when you do this; it will likely be messy.

Stir fast and hard for four months; do not stop stirring, do not walk away.  You don't want to scorch anyone.  While stirring, gradually pour in a steady stream of excitement about new business growth until mixture is frothing and bubbly.  Puree your kindergarten curriculum and try to sneak it in.  If your stomach is strong, add a week or two of potty-training and hope for the best.  

At the end of four months, slow the stirring and taste what you've got.  The faith will be thick and hearty, bringing you back for more.  Season to taste with old friendships rekindled, fun family excursions in a big city, and/or the thrill of making a new house a home.  

And that's our recipe for 2011....  Thanks for sharing the adventure with us.  Merry Christmas, friends.

Where Were You?

I was in my parents' car, driving between Houston and Austin.  My brother called my dad and told him to turn on the radio, that we might ought to turn around and go home.  We turned on the radio and listened in disbelief to the stories being pieced together.  We didn't turn around.  There was a new baby to meet and we were in need of something happy.

Five days earlier I had flown by myself from Paris to Houston in hopes of saying a final goodbye to my Grandma.  She met her Savior face-to-face while I was over the ocean.  That same day, my nephew was born.   My return ticket allowed time for a quick trip to see my sister's new baby.  So we arranged to go a day or so after the funeral.  It was September 11, 2001.

When we got to my sister's house, everyone was still in shock.  She had a 4-year-old running around and rightly didn't want to expose him much to the news reports, so we took intermittent glances.  What does it all mean?  I remember the confusion, the disbelief, and the very real panic of what it meant to me, with an ocean separating me from my husband.

J was sitting in a refugee center in Germany having tea with Muslims when the first reports starting coming in.  They were all very shocked, just like us, and horrified by the possibilities as well.  He went from the refugee center to a nearby electronics store with a wall of televisions.  He and a co-worker tuned one of the smaller sets to CNN to hear the details in English.  He was so focused on the news that he didn't notice at first the local Germans who were slowly turning off every other television so that the two Americans could hear.

I was anxious to get back to the man I call home.  My family was not so eager for me to get on a plane.  Neither was the government.  I was stuck in Texas for what felt like eternity, calling the airline every day to see if today was the day they would issue me a ticket and a departure date.  I don't remember how many weeks I waited, but eventually the planes started flying again and I was able to get on one of them for a very lonely, panicky, yet uneventful flight back to Europe and my beloved.

That day changed the world as a whole and each of us as individuals.  Only one thing remained constant--God.  He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow.  As one of our co-workers in Europe would say, "It is September 11, 2011 and God is still on His throne."  He has and always will be sovereign, through the inexplicable, the horrific, and the unfathomable.  Many pointed to their faith on that day and many were urged to new faith.  Faith is trusting in His goodness and His promise of redemption amidst the evil that surrounds us.  And as our broken world deteriorates farther from Him, faith cries out, "Come, Lord Jesus, come!"  What a day that will be!!

Sweet Spot

Today has been a sweet spot in the last few weeks.  Not that the last few weeks have been a terrible burden, just life with a newborn while trying to sell our house.  Crazy, intense days followed by the periodic dull, boring day.  It's really easy to get bogged down and frustrated on the crazy, intense days when I'm tired from getting up too early, the baby won't sleep, the girls are whiny and someone wants to come see our house.  So sweet days like today are worthy of soaking up and relishing.

For starters, life is beautiful because I am not pregnant.  Being "not pregnant" makes everything easier, even having a newborn.  But then, Z slept until I woke him up at 7:30 am this morning!  Great start to the day!  The girls stayed in bed until their lamp came on, so I didn't get out of bed until 6:45 am.  They enjoyed the new cereal I bought them (frosted mini wheats with fruit filling for other mommies of picky eaters).  Daddy ate breakfast with us and changed a dirty diaper before he left for work.  We all went outside to play in the driveway before it got too hot and got to talk to some neighbors.  Z fell asleep in my arms without me even trying.  We went back inside and I did "circle time" with the girls.  They stayed engaged with me for an hour and a half!  We read our Bible story, prayed, sang some songs, did a little art, read some poems, worked on scripture memory, read three chapters in our chapter book (!!) and finished with the last 24 hours in pictures.  Fabulous, blessed time together!!

Then they played happily together making a birthday party for their stuffed animals while I tended to some chores.  I realized Z had been sleeping for a little over two hours and went to check on him.  God's grace to me today....

...he has found his thumb!  This was his second nap to be prolonged by the sucking of a glorious thumb! We might be on to something here!  And hallelujah, because the last few weeks have really been exacerbated by a cat-napping baby.

I woke him up, fed him, and put him down to play while I made the girls' lunch.  I turned on some fun tunes and laughed with Z as he kicked in his bouncy seat.  My eldest, pickiest eater asked for leftovers from supper!  (Cheeseburger pie for those other mommies of picky eaters.)  And she ate them all and her fruit without a fight.  (Audiobooks are my new secret weapon during lunch.  They're so busy listening, they don't get silly at the table and we avoid most of the common pitfalls of table discipline.)  We finished lunch, watched a show, and started quiet time.  Z went back down for another nap without a fight and he's still sleeping!  Praise God for thumbs!!

I got a little cat nap before getting up to enjoy an ice cream sandwich and write a blog post.  Ladies and gentlemen, life does not get much better than this day!!  I know not what the afternoon holds or how it may all fall apart tomorrow, but I shall enjoy the glow of this moment and savor it.  May your day (or some day soon) be equally as pleasant and peaceful.

A Mommy Poll

I spend a lot of time and energy feeling guilty about the amount of time I spend or don't spend playing with my children.  Is this normal?  I've been thinking about generations of mommies before me and I don't think they spent a lot of time on the floor playing Polly Pockets.  Will my children be healthier adults than their children?

I know in generations past, there was more labor involved in housekeeping.  So kids were helping out from early on.  I imagine their opportunities for pure play were farther apart and means of entertainment were much simpler.

Modern conveniences and technology now make the workload lighter, and psychologists tell us to let our kids be kids, playing is their job.  And I hear it in their little voices, "Mommy, when can you play with me?"  They crave the attention and I know it does wonders for our relationship.

Does anyone else obsess about this?  Am I the only mommy who feels like I can never satiate her kids' desire for play time together?  How much time do you spend in pure play with your kids?  A few minutes here and there throughout the day, or a concentrated hour after supper?  Not art projects or cooking together or reading books, but getting into their little made-up world, being who they want you to be.

Please leave a comment (click on the word "comments" below this post) or send me an email.  I think it would be really interesting to see what "Mommy, play with me" looks like in other well-adjusted, healthy homes.

When I Am Not Pregnant

So tomorrow's the big day!  There's a bowl of ice cream calling my name and a good night's sleep that I'm hoping to get, but I have one more pregnant post rolling around in my head and I have to get it out.

I've been privileged to know a few people who handle constant pain or illness with grace that points to our Almighty God.  No complaining, no whining; you'd never know they managed chronic pain without hope of relief.  I've had a rough pregnancy and it's taken a toll on my body, but I've always known it wouldn't last forever.  And the hope of getting my body back helps me tolerate the daily aches and pains (though not with much grace at all).

So this is another note-to-self post...all the things I've been looking forward to and don't want to take for granted when I am not pregnant.

When I am not pregnant, I will tie my shoes without sitting down and eventually, perhaps without bending my knees.  I will enjoy the feeling of my toes wiggling free in my shoes without the squeeze of compression hose.  I will sit on the floor and play with my children cheerfully because my blood will continue to circulate to my extremities, and the only noise I will make when it is time to get up will be a shout of praise because I didn't require a piece of furniture to hold on to.

When I am not pregnant, I will sit in any chair available without regard for the density of its cushion or the depth of its seat.  I will spring out of said chair without using my hands, nor will I be pushed or pulled by anyone else.  I will not unwillingly expose my lower abdomen to total strangers because my pants will stay where I put them.  I will be grateful for every night of sleep that is interrupted only once by my bladder.  I will sleep without a pillow between me and my husband.

When I am not pregnant, I will chase my children and race down the driveway with them.  I will give them piggyback rides, teach them how to jump rope, and go on bike rides with them.  We will go for walks, stop and explore, crouching on the ground to investigate a bug.  We will go to the swimming pool.  I will hold them all on my lap at the same time.  I will not get angry when little elbows come in contact with my belly button.

When I am not pregnant, I will stretch and bend my body in graceful, fluid motions that demonstrate its strength.  I will exercise my body and tune it to be nimble, flexible, strong and healthy.  I have been blessed with the opportunity for relief from the aches and pains and I will not take that for granted.  I do not like being limited by my body's weakness and will be responsible with the amazing gift of health I have been given.

I feel better getting that out of my head.  Here's to a good night's sleep, an early morning, not being pregnant tomorrow, and getting to meet our son.

Limbo

I don't do well with limbo.  Not the game, though I'm sure I would be great entertainment if I tried to play that in my current condition.  I'm talking about the in-between times, the transition periods, when you know something else is coming but it's not time for that something yet.  Usually, you don't know how long the limbo is going to last and that makes it more difficult.  Now that I know when my current limbo is going to end, I think my sanity has returned a smidge and I have the capacity to mull these things over in my mind.  It doesn't hurt that J took the girls out of town for a cousin's birthday party the last two days.  A quiet house always helps to clear my head.

God has held me in limbo on a few occasions, and I'm sad to say that I don't think I'm getting any better at it.  Something about indefinite waiting makes me very myopic and self-focused.  I know in my head there are good strategies for shifting my perspective, but in the limbo, it's almost impossible to remember them much less implement them.  So in a brief moment of clarity, I'm going to record them here.  Somebody please remind me to read my own post the next time I'm whining about waiting.

Weapons against whining while waiting:

1. Scripture!  Post it at the kitchen sink, bathroom mirror, car dashboard.  Listen to it in music.  Read it, especially when you don't feel like it.
2. Prayer!  Be humble and vulnerable and ask other people to pray for a right perspective.
3. Overestimate the finish line - pad your expectations to buffer disappointment.  Think you'll be waiting 3 months?  Set your sights on 4.  Under-promise, over-deliver.
4. Ask for help - again with the humility
5. Shift focus - look around and see who you can help; surprise others with unexpected blessings; make yourself do something completely not about you
6. Tackle a project - I thrive on productivity, so it helps me to be getting things done
7. Just keep swimming - one foot in front of the other, grateful for the capacity to move through life, doing what needs to be done, even when you want to wallow in self-pity
8. Hide the chocolate - don't give yourself unlimited access; let your husband ration it out in appropriate portions.  Just an idea; I wouldn't know from experience or anything.

Any other strategies that work for you?  How do you survive limbo?  How do you glorify God while waiting?  Tell me now, because I know my next season of waiting is just around the corner.

Why Me?

We heard an incredible testimony last week at our home group meeting.  One of the families in our group is about to return to India to be missionaries to their own people.  We got to hear from her father, who came to salvation under miraculous circumstances.  He was a young adult before he had ever heard of a Christian, and still didn't know what that meant.  Yet God orchestrated his life as an example of Romans 1:20, "For since the creation of the world, God's invisible qualities--his eternal power and divine nature--have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse."

As he shared his journey to Christ and the persecution he has endured since becoming a believer, I could not help but wonder the difference between his soul and mine.  Why have I been born in a place and time where I have easy access to the gospel?  Why was I born into a family with an extraordinary heritage of believers?  Why me and not him?  What is my responsibility with this blessing?  What would God have me do or be because of my circumstances that predispose me to belief?

My first response is to have the mindset that I am here "for such a time as this."  That God has put me here, now for a specific purpose and I just need to be alert for that purpose.  But I also know that God doesn't need me to accomplish any of His purposes.  He will fulfill His plans with or without me.  If I miss the boat, it's just that--I miss out on knowing Him more deeply by having worked together with Him.  It's a delicate juggling act, to not allow this unknown purpose to dominate my consciousness, but to trust that He who began a good work in me will carry it on to completion and not let me miss the opportunity if I am focusing on Him.

God, why do you have me here, now?  I don't believe it's random.  Tune my heart to you, that I would not miss any opportunity to make the most of the circumstances you have blessed me with.

Want to Know

As I was washing baby things yesterday, I took an extra moment to caress the flannel blankets that my Grandma made for my son.  I fingered the crocheted details bordering the edge and thought of her sitting in her living room on the porch swing she had for a couch.  Feet on an avocado-green ottoman, gently gliding back and forth as she went around and around each square of flannel to add her handmade touch.

I had the gift of sharing a home with her as a teenager, but completely wasted that time with her.  I was so absorbed in the narcissistic universe that is teen drama that I missed out on so much of what could have been a precious inheritance of her wisdom and skill.

She's been in heaven for almost ten years now.  She took time a long time ago to make a set of baby blankets for each of her grandchildren.  My "girl" blankets are soft and loved, but the "boy" set was still crisp and stiff.  As I took them out of the dryer, I said a little thanks for her thoughtfulness.

I want my children to know her.  And that made me think of Easter.  Christ conquered death and the grave, that's what I've been telling my girls for the last week.  We can live forever with Him in heaven because He holds the key.  And when we get there, we'll see all those people who have gone before us.

I want to know if those relationships will still matter to us when we get there.  Or will we just be so overcome with adoration and worship, that it doesn't matter who we're with?  They are all family and we are united in our worship.  Or will those relationships be fulfilled in a way that can only happen in the presence of God?

When I was younger, I would hear older people praying for Christ's quick return and wonder what kind of crazy thing they were praying.  "Don't come too soon, Jesus, I've got things I want to do!" But I understand now, and I'm sure the longing will only get stronger.  Come, Lord Jesus, come.  I want to know.

More on Idols

No, I'm not into American Idol.  They lost me many seasons ago and may this be the final season, good riddance.  This is about the kind of idols we unknowingly create in our hearts.  I'm reading (very slowly and sporadically) Grace Based Parenting by Tim Kimmel and he caught my attention when he started talking about idols:

"When you convince your kids that things are evil rather than Satan and his corrupted world system being evil, you set them up to be easily manipulated by him.  I knew a lady who would pick up her elementary-age children from school during the last week of October just so they wouldn't have to walk by the jack-o'-lanterns that people put out in front of their houses.  She said she was frightened of what could happen to her children, but all she did was transfer her fear of jack-o'-lanterns to her children as well....By taking something inanimate and giving it animate evil power, she had just showed her kids how to create an idol.  Their fear of the jack-o'-lanterns was giving a dead carved vegetable a power it didn't have....

It is idolatry to affix evil power to things or actions that are just things and actions (hairstyles, rock concerts, clothing, dancing, dating, etc.).  What determines evil is how Satan is using the thing or the action in the individual's life.  What determines goodness is how God is working through the thing or the action in the individual's life.  What determines who is doing what is the individual (you, me, or the child) in the equation." 

I have to keep reading that last paragraph over and over to make sense of it, and I'm not sure what to do with it for the brief instant that the meaning seems clear.  But it seems like a powerful thing to think about and be aware of, so I wanted to share it for better or worse.

For the Kingdom

I follow several mommy blogs.  Some are friends, some are strangers.  Some are hilarious, some are profound.  Some are daily life, some advocate causes.  They all make me think, take me outside my own kitchen to other lives.  They shift my perspective and enlarge my tunnel vision.

I read non-fiction books.  Be-a-better-mommy books, be-a-better-wife books, know-your-Savior-better books.  Again, they broaden my perspective and take me out to a bigger world, an eternal world.

I hear great testimonies of how God is working in the hearts of those I love and those I didn't know existed.  My heart is stirred to desire bigger, bolder, more eternal goals.

My prayers are following this path.  What do You want me to do for Your eternal kingdom?  I know You don't need me to accomplish Your purposes, yet You take delight in allowing me to "help" You.  How can I help?  What cause would You have me champion?  What need do You want me to meet?  How can my little family be part of the eternal story You are weaving?  Are we doing it now... discipling our children and building relationships with others?  Are you preparing us for something else?  Did we hear You wrong along the way?  Have my ears gone numb to Your voice?  What more, Lord, do You have for me?  How can I be about Your eternal agenda?  Your kingdom come.

Still Thankful

Happy belated Thanksgiving!  We had a great day feasting with family and friends.  J said it was the best Thanksgiving dinner he's had in a few years.  I ate myself miserable and sat up half the night wishing I hadn't had the second helpings.  The kids played well, the home team won the game, and the weather turned cold.  Definitely a good day.

Since we don't celebrate Halloween, I try to really emphasize Thanksgiving once fall hits.  This year, we made a Thanksgiving tree.  I picked a branch out of the yard and put it in a big canister full of rocks.  We wrote (or drew) things on foam leaves that we were thankful for and tied them to the tree.  By the big day, it was a little Charlie-Brown-ish, but we could see how much we have to be thankful for.

A is thankful for mermaids, fairies, ladybugs, Chick-fil-A, rainbows, her best friend, her mom and dad, the new baby, cousins, herself, pink, and various toys in no particular order.  C scribbled on leaves and we left them open to interpretation, until one of the last drawing sessions when she handed me a leaf and told me it was one of her cousins.  I obliged and wrote his name on the leaf to identify his portrait.

The grown-ups in the house are grateful for employment, good health, kind neighbors, loving family, precious daughters, each other.  Above all else we are humbled by the opportunity to thank our God for His loving kindness, His constant nature, His gift of salvation, His personal involvement in our lives.

We've been singing a Thanksgiving song this month cut and pasted from the psalms.  Perhaps you know it..."I will enter his gates with thanksgiving in my heart, I will enter His courts with praise.  I will say this is the day that the Lord has made.  I will rejoice for He has made me glad.  He has made me glad.  He has made me glad.  I will rejoice for He has made me glad!"

Overwhelmed

I've been feeling really overwhelmed lately.  Lots of transition and new beginnings at our house.  I've been putting together a sketchy lesson plan for our first year of homeschool and trying to pull together some activities to keep C busy while I do lessons with A.  That has taken up a lot of my personal bandwidth this summer.  (That's how nerds communicate their capacity to process information.  I try to speak geek with my hubby whenever I can and sometimes it overflows into meat space.  That's where nerds have to interact with real people in real space instead of over the interwebs.)

We're also in the midst of changing our guest room/office into a playroom/guestroom.  We've moved the bedroom suite out and brought in a sleeper sofa, thereby insuring that no one will ever sleep overnight at my house again.  I'm trying to clear the room of it's old purpose and figure out it's new purpose without spending any money.  For now, that means a mountain of papers that need to be shredded or filed.  The encouraging thing is that if you wait two years to file your paperwork, a lot of it will be obsolete by the time you file and you can just throw it away.

Once the paper is clear, I'm wrestling with what I really want to put in the room so that A can enjoy it vs. not wanting C to decorate my walls with said enjoyment.  I enjoy these kinds of dilemmas and the energy that comes with a new configuration, but it's been keeping me up at night and that's not cool.

The reason we're changing the room around is to accommodate a new home group that we'll be leading this year.  I found out last week that we don't start the new group until mid-September, so that has helped me breathe a little bit.  I was thinking we only had two weeks to figure out the new room, what our group is going to study, our schedule for the fall, find a sitter for the group's kids, etc.  Two extra weeks helps a lot.

But I don't handle transition very well.  I sleep better when everything is settled.  I want the decisions to be made, the schedule mapped out, duties delegated, prep work done.  I want to have a great beginning for our new school year and our new home group, and I want to think it through enough that we finish well, too.  Until we're off and running, I'll be fidgeting with ideas and questions, wondering what the optimal solution is to each scenario.

I've been listening to podcasts from our previous church and have been reminded that unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain (Psalm 127:1).  I don't like spinning my wheels, so I pray we've heard rightly, that we'll keep our ears tuned to His voice and that God will be glorified in our home, through our family.  And if God is building it, it seems much less overwhelming.

Beautifully Said

I have a lot of admiration for well-written blog posts that communicate truth and love in a way that is hard to ignore. Here are a few posts from blogs I read that made me say, "Amen!" or "Ouch!" when they arrived in my inbox.

Love is Not Colorblind

Better Me Than You

Herein is Love

How to Live a Better Story

10 Ways to Instantly Become More Attractive

How to be Disorganized & Unproductive at Your Job #1

How to be Disorganized & Unproductive at Your Job #2

Some of these are brand new, others are really old. I've been holding on to some of the links so I could share them here, and this is my way of de-cluttering my inbox. I think that takes the prize for laziest spring cleaning ever!

Love Me Tender

I was feeling pretty cruddy yesterday morning and A was so sweet. I laid down on the couch for a few minutes to recuperate from C's morning circus and let the pounding in my head subside. I told her my throat was scratchy and she ran away. I basked in the silence for a moment and then almost cried when she returned with a damp wash rag for me to put on my throat. Isn't that sweet?!

She played very patiently with her little sister on the floor while I rested on the couch. She paused to bring me a blanket and lovingly spread it out to intermittently cover both my toes and thighs, but not at the same time. She asked if she should bring the thermometer, but I told her that wasn't necessary.

When J got home from work, he banished me to the bedroom to rest, but not before A asked him for a cup from the cabinet. She's so proud that she can fix a cup of ice water from the fridge and usually has one waiting for Daddy when he comes in the door each evening. But this time, I was the honored recipient. Then she ran to get me another rag for my throat.

Thank you, God, for tender moments that help sustain us through less-than-pleasant personality phases. I shouldn't be amazed that You can love me well through a preschooler.

Who do I know?

While window shopping with J during our anniversary trip, I saw a Christmas wreath that reminded me of someone.  I did a mental scan to try and figure out who I knew that was trying that color scheme with her Christmas decorations this year.  She had said that it was a brave, new thing - the colors were bright greens, pinks, blues.  But she really liked it and wanted to incorporate more of it in her Christmas decorations.  The wreath was marked down quite a bit and I debated purchasing it for my friend, or at least telling her where I had seen it (when I could remember who it was).  It occurred to me later that it was a fellow mommy blogger whom I've never met before.  Isn't that crazy?!  I feel like I know that woman well enough to shop for her Christmas decorations! 

J said I should do a post on what that means for the quality and significance on online relationships.  I don't really want to go there, though, because I'm quite certain the anecdote would cease to be funny the moment I began dissecting it.  Now who do I know that was wanting to try homemade dish soap?

This time last year

Seems to be a reflective time of year.  Watching a baby's first birthday come hurtling towards you makes you think about the past year, too.  This time last year:

• I was great with child, emotionally and physically exhausted
  
• My husband was traveling for work one week a month, finishing his first semester of grad school, and putting the finishing touches on a backyard office building that he constructed "in his spare time"
• My sweet 2-year-old was still sleeping in her crib, in diapers
• We were new in town, desperate for connection, aching for the family and friends-that-had-become-family we had left behind

This time last year I was in the pit of despair.  I have never been so lonely, felt so isolated or alone.  It was my first move since we'd had kids and that made it an entirely different sort of beast.  Never mind the pregnancy hormones that took me captive and beat my brain to a pulp.  Add to that a small town that is fiercely prideful of its own traditions and cliques of adults who have walked the gauntlet of college life together.  I felt every bit of Psalm 69:2, "I sink in the miry depths, where there is no foothold.  I have come into the deep waters; the floods engulf me."  I cried out to God for mercy, knowing I had reached the end of my endurance.

This time last year, we called three different couples to invite them to our house for New Year's Eve.  We were turned down by the first two; but God had saved the best for last.  It was this time last year that He sent a sweet family to our house that we could not possibly have had more in common with.  We were encouraged, affirmed, and reassured.  It was also about this time that another mom in town called me out of the blue "just to see how you're doing."  I wept when I hung up because someone had thought of me.  This time last year I began to see the surface of the pit.

I praise God that this year I can say "He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand." (Psalm 40:2)  In the depths of my heart, I knew that He would.  I knew He would deliver me and that the pit would grow my heart closer to His.  But that is so hard to see when you're in the pit.  Note to self - when you're on the surface, enjoying the prosperity of life as usual, scan the perimeter every now and then.  New face in the crowd?  Say hello, invite them to lunch, call them to see how they're doing.  Especially if they're pregnant.

Thank you, God, for the pit.  Thank you for pulling me out of it.  Please keep my heart sensitive to the needs of those on the perimeter.  Help me to see others who might be experiencing the pit and use me as you will to love them.

I'm not

My children are asleep and I am typing a blog post. I am revolting against all things productive for the next ten minutes. I am not:

• Editing my Christmas card list
• Addressing Christmas cards
• Preparing teacher gifts
• Finishing our tree decorations
• Cleaning my house for playgroup
• Paying bills
• Reviewing our budget
• Planning preschool curriculum for next week
• Christmas shopping
• Organizing my gift list for the 19th time
  
• Making edible gifts for friends and neighbors
• Making other gifts
• Emailing my sister about Christmas lunch

I am also not zoned out on the couch watching mindless television. So I guess this is somehow productive in a very cathartic sense. Perhaps my dreams will not be filled with the administrivia of this list tonight. Only if I shove a little HGTV on top of it to keep it all quiet.