Where's Your 'Want To'?

     For the family, the last week was a continuation of the 2 weeks before it: bottles of cough syrup, ibuprofen, 7-Up, and vitamin C.  The sicknesses are taking a toll.  On top of it, I was pulled from home for the better part of 3 days trying to finish bankruptcy documentation, only to find out there's a delay.  Mike couldn't understand my frustration, because in his eyes it'll work out better in the end.  Once my tears told their story, he babied me, then showered me with cards for the next 3 days.  You know, he still gets under my skin (and vice versa) but there's no way I can deny the changes he's undergone.
     A perfect example was the prayer he offered over the meal he took us out to while Megan and Miranda were home for the weekend.  Miranda looked up afterwards and said, "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."  We had just left the Billy Graham Library, where he was in awe of the displays and stories.  We all were. 
     We went with "new" friends, well sorta, 4 years isn't exactly "new".  While standing there waiting for them, we spotted "old" friends.  It was a good start to a rare day of wholesome time with the "whole" family.  Miranda stepped right back into big sister mode and had Macklynn and Madalynn by the hands a lot of the time.  Megan cooked for us the next morning.  I hated to see them leave, but at least it was "together". 
     The entire weekend was great.  Friday night we had a gathering of intimate friends and I felt a bit like part of a Christmas card.  Afterwards, Jami stayed while the kids swapped gifts.  There was a lot of thought put into it all, which leads me to the "want to" question that keeps popping in my mind.
      We, as a society, do things we "need to", "have to", and are "supposed to".  But where's our "want to"?  This is not to be confused with doing things that are right whether we want to or not.  That's a given.  This is about motive, about the heart, about crossing over into grace.
     We watched "Hope Springs" last night.  She wanted to save her marriage.  She wasn't sure how it would happen but she wanted to.  I know people who are lying in wait for their spouse to make one more wrong move so they can justify leaving them.  I've been guilty of it myself.  Their "want to" is gone, but that doesn't make it right.
     I know people who are in church every time the doors are open, but they sure don't look like they want to be.  Too many of us do it because we're "supposed to".
     I know women who say they "can't" stay at home for their children, and in many cases for their husbands.  Upon further inspection, virtually every single one of them has revealed to me that for whatever reason, they don't "want to".   For those who "want to", who possess a sincere desire, God will divide the waters to make it happen.  Consider this a blow if you choose to, but all you have to do is look at the American family and popular culture to see that "home" has lost its appeal and to know that the high calling and position of "the hand that rocks the cradle" has diminished to one of hired help.
     I know kids who learn because they "have to".  I was one of those.  I hope our children will learn because they "want to", because God's world is terribly interesting, because His people are precious, because history is compelling, because His order is perfection, because communication is crucial.  I want them to have an insatiable desire to learn, that doesn't stop upon leaving the steps of an institution.  I know it will be relative to the slant of their God given gifts and natures, but that's good enough for me.
     I know people work because they "need to", too many refusing to see a reason beyond the income.  I haven't "worked" in so many years that I can't speak to it much but there is simply no way that God would put you in a place and not expect something beyond what you can see.
     I know individuals who volunteer because they "should", because it makes them feel good and maybe even look good.  Is the "want to" there?  Is the follow up there?  Is the face of that needy person still in your prayers?   In my self inspection over the last days, I've been ashamed over how easy it is to convey the love of Christ to warm faces BUT how easy it is to "flip the switch" on cold ones.  Is that person sleepy?  Is that person sick?  Is that person worried?  Is that person cast aside?  Is that person addicted?  Is that person abused?  Is that person confused?  Is that person "lost"?
     I had to check my "want to".  Am I willing to get out from under my own agenda, as good as it might be, to explore what really matters?  Billy Graham was quoted on the walls of his library that to tell another person about the love of Christ is the best gift we have to offer.  Do you "want to" share it?  If not, why?   Are you still bargaining on how little you can get away with?
     Or are you like me, testing the balance, wondering how much you can get away with?  We say we "want to" lose weight or we "want to" save money, but in reality we're always counting on the "high side", to see just how close we can come before we overdo it.  What kind of discipline is that?
     I've been concentrating hard on this task before me of physical health and strength.  Anyone who's read about me knows my list of reasons and excuses.  Recently, the thing I was struck by, pierced with actually, is that for every self conscious thought I have (when listed, they are constant), it's one less opportunity to be inspired to translate God's love to another person:  my husband, one of our children, my friend, my neighbor, a stranger.   While I'm consumed with self awareness, I miss the target completely.  The same goes for any sin.  Mind you, I don't mean the self awareness is sin; I mean the sin that causes the self awareness.  Christ's children "sinneth not".  To think we can continue in any sin, big or small, is to wish madness upon ourselves because the Holy Spirit simply will not have it.  And thankfully so.  When my "want to" is gone, the Holy Spirit keeps it for me ...and breathes it back into me when the time is right.  Hopefully, the Mayans were wrong, because it would be a shame for me to get my "want to" right on my last day.

Home

     I woke up this morning to screams from the front porch.  I jumped up after a night of wakefulness caused by coughs resounding from every room.  Macklynn was hanging over the rail, sick.  He said he was dizzy and I knew he had what Michael brought home from Boone where he was packing shoe boxes while Mike had his orientation.  The flu, we haven't had it in forever.  The last time I remember that it was the real deal, full blown flu was when Megan was little.  Everybody "says" they have the flu, but when you're dilirious from headache and fever and can't hold a cloth to your bloody nose because your arm aches (as Macklynn did), then you have the flu.  I tried so hard to quarantine.  My best guess it that Michael spread the germs as he was coming down with what we thought was this terrible cough most everyone else here has had for weeks.
     I don't care much for TV, but thank God for it when there's nothing else a person feels like doing.  So, as all the sicklings rested another day, Madalynn and I went down to the barn, boots on and buckets full.  There stood  "Patty", the pig, up on the fence and the calves happy to receive the feed we've had to buy them.  The "other" pig, the pot-bellied one, bites at them to steal their food and caused one to jump over the gate and hang its leg yesterday, so I had to contrive some way to keep her out of the shabby barn.  An old door and a bungy strap later, I had her perplexed.
     It's funny: Miranda said the people she works with say she's a farm girl.  She doesn't think so at all.  They asked, "You have cows?  You have pigs?  You have chickens?  You have a garden?"  Then you lived on a farm.  They just haven't seen a "real" farm, I suppose.  We dabble and mostly "come upon" things.  We don't have any farm equipment.  Last time we needed something hauled, Michael bartered a truck wash for it.
     "Outdoorsy" we can settle on.  Madalynn fits the bill.  She insisted that I put a leash around her and that we traipse into the woods as if she were a dog, down by the creek, so she could point out where she had lost her boot in the "quicksand".  We hopped a few rocks and sat on the moss.  She didn't want to come back. I didn't either, but I had to keep moving.  I need to stop here for a minute though and divulge a tidbit I was "given" on Sunday.  As I roamed the property, then sat on the ground pulling burrs out of Mia's fur, I thought over the question people pose about the number of children we have despite the narcissist I lived with.  I love creation: children, animals, plants.  God saw to it that I was surrounded by it.  He never gave me more than I could bear, just felt like it sometimes.   I had love all the time, just not always the one I wanted the most.  It's in my possession now, but its flames have reduced to smoldering coals because it was unrequited for too long.  And so the delicate balancing act continues.
     A few days ago, two neighbors stopped with two boxes of food.  Their church found out Mike had broken his leg.  The little kids were so impressed.  There were crackers, cookies, macaroni, Pop Tarts, cereal, and all manner of snacks for "under the weather" days.  They began to tire even of those, so homemade pancakes seemed in order.  Madalynn sat on the counter and grabbed at everything I'd let her pour in.  Our pancakes aren't the same without flaxseed and fresh ground whole wheat.  Call it "homeschooler food" all you want to, but don't knock it 'til you've tried it!  Plus, real butter and maple syrup make them taste the way they were meant to.
     Ordinarily, I'd have one of the kids make the pancakes and another one go to the barn and another one play with Madalynn.  Today I got to fill all those roles and although not much else got done, I'm happy.  It's so easy to lose touch with children, even for us "stay at home" moms.
     I'm getting a dose of what true "stay at home" means ...and I like it.  Mike returned to work last week and took our one car with him.  Without the ability to "run around", time stops in a way.  When Mike returned every evening, I had supper cooking, the tree lit, music playing, house straighter by the day, and a little make-up on.  I can't imagine anything nicer.  Granted he was worked up from all his new information and when I do go back to town, I'll have about 14 places to go AND everyone was hacking their hearts up.  Still ...it was nice.  I don't plan to let that slip away.
    Home isn't "always" nice.  McKala has had nightly attacks.  She wakes coughing so uncontrollably that she vomits, in turn causing her nose to bleed.  She can hardly catch a breath.  All I can do is stand there with a cloth.  She's taking all the medicine they know to give her.  I'm just thankful to go through this with her.  I'm thankful that I don't have a particular hour to rise and rush out of the house.  I'm thankful to be the queen of this castle and ...thankful that no one else can fit the crown that I alone have been given.