I spent this Sunday afternoon shooting with newly 15 year old Michael. He asked me to go outside to try out the new Remington 1100 Sporting 20 that Granddaddy brought him for his birthday. What he really needed was someone to pull the skeet shooter since Mike was watching the Daytona 500. I didn't mind a bit to be out in the warm gentle breeze. But Mike couldn't resist coming out and shooting a couple off the porch himself.
Michael hit his first skeet; so did Mike; so did I ;) I haven't used my Mossberg Shotgun for anything in 3 years but hip shooting buckets across the yard ...it's like riding a bike though ...if I'd remember to pump a cartridge in, nightmarish when you click and nothing happens! We moved on to handguns. I haven't target practiced in well over a year, but had a consistent 4 inch group. My Sig P226 and me still have a good working relationship. Melody got in a few good shots too!
Right now, he's cleaning the guns; the others are watching "Les Miserables" on PBS AGAIN, and McKala's taking her first ride alone, after she helped clean them. Yes, Mike's persistence in finding 1 owner vehicles has given us TWO cars now that are PAID IN FULL! McKala got her license Friday afternoon and Michael got his permit. Four of seven are on the road now. That makes for a lot of prayer ...and staying in tune with God so that they're heard! (You don't know that our prayers can be hindered?! "He that turneth away his ear from hearing the law, even his prayer shall be abomination," and "Likewise, ye husbands, dwell with them according to knowledge, giving honour unto the wife, as unto the weaker vessel, and as being heirs together of the grace of life; that your prayers be not hindered.")
Mike took them to work with him and then to the DMV Office Friday. Leave it to cows to get out when their owners are away, so Melody and I had to finagle one back. He's unpredictable; so instead of walking with him, Melody sat in the back of the van with a bucket of sweet feed as I drove with the flashers on down the side of the road. It all went without incident and we didn't even have to call anyone for advice or help! But we didn't have time to do the last minute cleaning before Mom and Dad got here with Maggie from Georgia ('til they called from a traffic jam). You know: wiping down the microwave and around the dishwasher door, checking for cobwebs and clean sheets, picking up stray toys in and outside.
Years ago I stayed awake as long as I had to, to get everything as perfect as I could before our parents arrived in town. I just can't do it anymore. As a matter of fact, my mother pleads for me not to so that I'll be better company when they arrive. Lately, I've heard here and there people sloughing off the importance of sleep. I even know some people who follow a little catch phrase about it. It's mostly men, who don't have to produce milk for a baby nor get up with the baby throughout the night. Those things aside, simply missing an hour of sleep every evening accounts for an entire night when the week is done. So then, is it okay to drive sleepy, stunt growth, compromise immunity, nod off God knows where? What's noble about combating tiredness? You don't really think you've achieved anything when you have to caffeinate or medicate to make it through the day, do you?
And what about my personal vice, overeating to compensate for running out of steam? No matter the time I awake, about 4 every afternoon, I just plain crash. I have resolved solidly that it's not time for me to eat, but time for "church". I can't just go on Sunday and Wednesday and all the other mornings; I have to go late afternoon, too. He knows when I'm running out of Him. BUT I remember all the years of bearing young children and the temptation to eat to keep moving through my sleep deprived haze. Even statistics prove it now.
I'm short with people when I lack sleep. I care little for looking forward, rather surviving the day. AND when I'm weak in body, I'm weak in mind. When I'm deliriously sleepy, my mind wanders into places it shouldn't. I know the verse about "a little folding of the hands". I also know the verse in my favorite Old Testament book, Ecclesiastes: "The sleep of a labouring man is sweet ..." Not sure why that has to be tampered with.
I did miss some sleep in the last couple of weeks and didn't make up for it in time to prevent the condition that catches up with me everytime my body is brought under duress. It drains me down to nothing ...and as a close friend's dad views his same sickness, keeps him in check for what he's doing to himself. He turns his curse into a blessing!
This week was full of those, blessings. You see, for almost every birthday that one of our children had, there was a coinciding one. Madalynn shared her birthday with my 94 year old friend. She couldn't come over for breakfast, so we decided to pop in but her family had swooped her away for lunch already. We left what we'd brought and went on our way. Since we didn't plan any parties, even using leftover decorations and specified homemade treats by Melody, I took each child individually to the restaurant of their choice and to spend the day with anyone of their choice. Madalynn had wanted to return to Red Lobster this year and to buy a fishing pole and to have over the family of her friend, Eliza (whose own birthday party was Saturday night). Little did we know that our aged friend would call the next day saying, "Michelle, did you know that I only got roses 2 times in my life?! About 40 years ago my husband bought a bunch for me ...and now you bought me some."
I'm fully aware that Proverbs says, "Let another man praise thee, and not thine own mouth; a stranger, and not thine own lips." But, really, this was not a burdening gift, just Walmart roses. The point is that I've asked myself and the children to distinctly set our minds to serving others. I'd borne the idea of flowers since her appreciation for them spills out into her yard, but McKala meticulously picked them out, brilliantly pink shorn up in succulent greenery. Our small deeds can make a world of difference and this time I got to taste it. Her sweet response was as much a blessing to me.
Per Michael's brainstorm, McKala's birthday meal was spent in a pizzeria in the mountains where she grew up ...with her childhood guy friend and her keeper of a girl friend she's had through her teens. They were fine to sit and talk and laugh with this mom for hours about all manner of events, beliefs, good times and bad. I couldn't ask for our daughter to have chosen better fellowship.
Michael's birthday stayed true to past years and didn't go smoothly. I'd hoped that a teammate could join him for go karting but his friend had broken his foot. He wasn't sure what he wanted as a gift and instead of wasting money, came home with nothing EXCEPT a stomach full of King Crab :) However, he DID know what he wanted his Pop to have. It's something of a joke around here about Pop (and Michael too), that he takes everything back, but Michael caught wind during their last visit that Pop wanted a Falcon's Gonzalez shirt. Michael took it upon himself to place a customized order and have it shipped to him for his birthday today!
Lastly was Macklynn's birthday. When I called his penpal's mother about surprising him, she said her son's birthday was 4 days later. So we planned a day for them of Mexican food and bowling. They hadn't seen each other since last summer. Gage is the smallest boy in his class and Macklynn would likely be the biggest. Gage's hair is sort of long and Macklynn's is really short. Gage exudes creativity and Macklynn is eccentrically practical. Gage is teased and I wish Macklynn could be there to back him up. They share something that I hope they'll keep a long, long time.
Afterwards, Macklynn and I went to spend his birthday money and when we were on the way home, he said from the backseat, "Mama, look how many presents I have!" It really wasn't much, but that he emphatically believed it was made me tear up with gladness.
The kids are growing up, exhibited by mature selflessness this week. When I returned from an appointment Wednesday, McKala had everything out of the frig, voluntarily cleaning it. The prior day she'd made a massive tent for the little ones over the 15 ft frame of the swings and played with them all afternoon. Out of the blue, Michael took Macklynn to show him how to properly use his new hatchet and Madalynn, her rod. He built them a fire and did it up right!
McKala just brought me home a Tijuana Mama from her joyride. Again, it's not much, but I know I was in her thoughts ...and I'll take that! Just like I'll take the calls from Megan and Miranda in Georgia. That they call with good news and bad, for advice or just a sounding board, during lunch breaks or late night after shifts end, makes my day - that our adult daughters consider me a confidante! I have a son who wants to shoot with me. I have a Melody who will sing with me, giving hugs that she used to withhold. I have 2 young wards left me, who should gain from all I've learned with their siblings and before they're grown, if this world's still spinning, I'll find little ones underfoot again in the natural progression of the full quiver we've been blessed with.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly
As I sit here trying to recall the weekend, the big kids are outside around a bonfire with Jaycie, while Madalynn watches her new movie for the 4th time and Mike researches a repair for work. Macklynn's outside with them and since he turned 8 today, he's well on his way to being "big". He wanted chocolate covered strawberries for his birthday, so Melody made them just like she made cake balls for Madalynn's, cheesecake for Michael's, and picked out jumbo blueberry muffins for McKala's. Yes, I have survived our 8 day whirlwind of birthdays! Plus, Valentine's out with Mike AND joining our church on Sunday!
You heard it here: we found a church home after searching for almost a decade. Truth is we were worn from not finding a place to settle. Our "church" wardrobe was even depleted from the apathy that crept up on us. I am certain that church service is not about fashion. Every time I start to think so, I remember how pretty I thought I looked in my yellow Easter dress at Burkemont Baptist when I was a preteen. I'm sure I didn't even know what the preacher preached that Sunday. However, there IS something to be said for trimmed nails and hair, clean ears, polished shoes, ironed shirts, matching socks, and overall modesty.
So, the Sunday that Mike looks over at me and asks, "You wanna do it today or when the girls return," I say, "We don't know when that'll be, so yeah," and turn my head to the children to my right, he's already stepped out into the isle to the left! Don't get me wrong, I was thrilled. We knew the first day that we'd found our place. But, when I beckoned the kids to follow, I think they mistook it as an altar call ...and were trying to figure out why we all had to go ;) Bless their hearts, I just now explained to Macklynn and Madalynn what we had done, that we had a place to go every Sunday and we didn't have to visit anywhere else, that we can do everything they do. The first thing Macklynn says, "So, we can eat there now too?" Ha!
As we made our way to the front, thankfully I forgot that Macklynn had on an inside out athletic sock; that Madalynn's tights were frayed and the back of her hair almost as much; that when Melody went to shave there was no hot water, so she grabbed a pair of wrinkled pants from her closet floor that were too snug, but I had imagined we might slink in unnoticed; that McKala had on an assortment of spring and winter items that I doubted her new birthday boots carried; that I had on Miranda's sweater with a hole and her pants that are too long for me and too form fitting since I've not exercised in so long, sporting a day old, snowed on, flat "do"; and that Mike needed a haircut, which we told him we'd do the night before, EXCEPT that we didn't get home until 2 am!
McKala, Michael, Melody, and had driven to Greensboro for Winter Jam (a concert of all genres of Christian music), something I've been spoiled to have Megan or Miranda to take them to until this year. There we were in the falling snow waiting 3 hours for tickets, surrounded by thousands and thousands of enthusiastic fans. We saw old friends and made new ones, particularly a businessman of small stature who was sharing his oversized umbrella with others, who I assumed were his family. But they weren't; he was kindly standing in line alone so that his wife didn't have to endure the weather. He eventually told me that he was an addict until 2 years ago. His wife and children are still distant, leary of his claims for Christ. His daughter hugs her mother at night but not him. I immediately had empathy for him since Mike's experienced the same thing. As they opened the doors prematurely so we could escape the cold, he told me he'd pray for Mike and me; then I remembered to ask him their names ...Randy and Bobbi they are. He has a long road ahead of him because she doesn't have any particular interest in Godly endeavors ...so remember people like these in your prayers.
The night began roughly since we couldn't decide on seating, then Melody bumped the batteries out of the camera and couldn't find one of them. I got onto her pretty harshly about her discontent. I decided to remedy it with searching for the battery myself, so when the crowd stood to their feet, I went hunting ...and I found it! She still was slumped in her chair and although I never buy venue food, I knew she was hungry; so I went for it anyway ...only to find that those southern Christians had bought out all the fried chicken! Fries had to sustain and she cheered up, taking several good pictures. I couldn't let a rift ruin a night of worship. I want Melody to enjoy Christian music the way she does all the others.
We were thoroughly entertained and encouraged and HUNGRY at night's end, but I passed one too many McDonald's full of church vans and then they were all closed. So, we ended up way out of the way at a Waffle House. The kids knew we didn't need to spend the money, just how they did when I offered a CD or T-Shirt at the concert. After all, it's wholesome music and birthday season at that, AND they'd paid their own ways in ...but they refused the merchandise ...and I got a glimpse of humility in them, the best thing a parent could ask for.
On the way home, McKala, usually the first one on the "church train", pleaded for me not to wake her up in the morning. But when I made my way into our bedroom, Mike said that the new guy at work was bringing his wife to come visit the church with us.
When the alarm went off, Mike said, "Wake up the kids; we're all going." I stumbled around bribing them with coffee as they begged me off. I scavenged the frig for odds and ends to suffice for breakfast. We got everybody's body parts covered but we looked haggard at best. Then, as we set off for our 30 minute trip, Mike and I had a disagreement that could've evolved into one of those "turn the car around" deals. By the time we got there, I was still visibly upset; so I bid everyone ahead of me while I sat in the car to gather myself. Within minutes, it became clear I'd become overly tired and stressed (even though it was from a lot of good things) and Satan was on my coattails, simply trying to obscure God's providence.
However, I had no earthly idea why the negative tug was so hard ...until Mike made that move to the isle. I'll give you credit here for the obvious: 1. We were up 'til the wee hours. 2. We looked a mess. 3. We barely missed a knock down drag out. Joining the church might not have happened, at least not anytime soon since Mike travels so much, if we'd given in to human frailty at any given level, at any given moment!
I have so many other things I'd like to recount here, things we did and said on each child's birthday, but what I'm gonna leave this with is: don't let the logistics bog you down. Because the closer we get to God, the quicker the devil will jump in the mix to thwart what is bound to happen. It's NOT about whys, wheres, hows, and how could yous. It's about a thing that's vastly bigger than we are. It's about a God who's just waiting for us to turn our faces heavenward. Sometimes, it IS about the waiting and the not knowing. But I mean, once you're sold out to Christ, it's like this, one of my favorites: " Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ." ~ Philippians 3:8. There's more of me for Him to take, so as TobyMac sang Saturday night, "I'll just step out the way," ...so He can "steal my show". If you have a problem, that's the solution ...and don't forget there's always more at play than we understand ...so on Mike's behalf, I'll announce that he's been diagnosed this Tuesday morning with bronchitis, an ear infection, and a sinus infection even though he's been on 2 rounds of antibiotics, so Sunday morning was surely trying for him also.
You heard it here: we found a church home after searching for almost a decade. Truth is we were worn from not finding a place to settle. Our "church" wardrobe was even depleted from the apathy that crept up on us. I am certain that church service is not about fashion. Every time I start to think so, I remember how pretty I thought I looked in my yellow Easter dress at Burkemont Baptist when I was a preteen. I'm sure I didn't even know what the preacher preached that Sunday. However, there IS something to be said for trimmed nails and hair, clean ears, polished shoes, ironed shirts, matching socks, and overall modesty.
So, the Sunday that Mike looks over at me and asks, "You wanna do it today or when the girls return," I say, "We don't know when that'll be, so yeah," and turn my head to the children to my right, he's already stepped out into the isle to the left! Don't get me wrong, I was thrilled. We knew the first day that we'd found our place. But, when I beckoned the kids to follow, I think they mistook it as an altar call ...and were trying to figure out why we all had to go ;) Bless their hearts, I just now explained to Macklynn and Madalynn what we had done, that we had a place to go every Sunday and we didn't have to visit anywhere else, that we can do everything they do. The first thing Macklynn says, "So, we can eat there now too?" Ha!
As we made our way to the front, thankfully I forgot that Macklynn had on an inside out athletic sock; that Madalynn's tights were frayed and the back of her hair almost as much; that when Melody went to shave there was no hot water, so she grabbed a pair of wrinkled pants from her closet floor that were too snug, but I had imagined we might slink in unnoticed; that McKala had on an assortment of spring and winter items that I doubted her new birthday boots carried; that I had on Miranda's sweater with a hole and her pants that are too long for me and too form fitting since I've not exercised in so long, sporting a day old, snowed on, flat "do"; and that Mike needed a haircut, which we told him we'd do the night before, EXCEPT that we didn't get home until 2 am!
McKala, Michael, Melody, and had driven to Greensboro for Winter Jam (a concert of all genres of Christian music), something I've been spoiled to have Megan or Miranda to take them to until this year. There we were in the falling snow waiting 3 hours for tickets, surrounded by thousands and thousands of enthusiastic fans. We saw old friends and made new ones, particularly a businessman of small stature who was sharing his oversized umbrella with others, who I assumed were his family. But they weren't; he was kindly standing in line alone so that his wife didn't have to endure the weather. He eventually told me that he was an addict until 2 years ago. His wife and children are still distant, leary of his claims for Christ. His daughter hugs her mother at night but not him. I immediately had empathy for him since Mike's experienced the same thing. As they opened the doors prematurely so we could escape the cold, he told me he'd pray for Mike and me; then I remembered to ask him their names ...Randy and Bobbi they are. He has a long road ahead of him because she doesn't have any particular interest in Godly endeavors ...so remember people like these in your prayers.
The night began roughly since we couldn't decide on seating, then Melody bumped the batteries out of the camera and couldn't find one of them. I got onto her pretty harshly about her discontent. I decided to remedy it with searching for the battery myself, so when the crowd stood to their feet, I went hunting ...and I found it! She still was slumped in her chair and although I never buy venue food, I knew she was hungry; so I went for it anyway ...only to find that those southern Christians had bought out all the fried chicken! Fries had to sustain and she cheered up, taking several good pictures. I couldn't let a rift ruin a night of worship. I want Melody to enjoy Christian music the way she does all the others.
We were thoroughly entertained and encouraged and HUNGRY at night's end, but I passed one too many McDonald's full of church vans and then they were all closed. So, we ended up way out of the way at a Waffle House. The kids knew we didn't need to spend the money, just how they did when I offered a CD or T-Shirt at the concert. After all, it's wholesome music and birthday season at that, AND they'd paid their own ways in ...but they refused the merchandise ...and I got a glimpse of humility in them, the best thing a parent could ask for.
On the way home, McKala, usually the first one on the "church train", pleaded for me not to wake her up in the morning. But when I made my way into our bedroom, Mike said that the new guy at work was bringing his wife to come visit the church with us.
When the alarm went off, Mike said, "Wake up the kids; we're all going." I stumbled around bribing them with coffee as they begged me off. I scavenged the frig for odds and ends to suffice for breakfast. We got everybody's body parts covered but we looked haggard at best. Then, as we set off for our 30 minute trip, Mike and I had a disagreement that could've evolved into one of those "turn the car around" deals. By the time we got there, I was still visibly upset; so I bid everyone ahead of me while I sat in the car to gather myself. Within minutes, it became clear I'd become overly tired and stressed (even though it was from a lot of good things) and Satan was on my coattails, simply trying to obscure God's providence.
However, I had no earthly idea why the negative tug was so hard ...until Mike made that move to the isle. I'll give you credit here for the obvious: 1. We were up 'til the wee hours. 2. We looked a mess. 3. We barely missed a knock down drag out. Joining the church might not have happened, at least not anytime soon since Mike travels so much, if we'd given in to human frailty at any given level, at any given moment!
I have so many other things I'd like to recount here, things we did and said on each child's birthday, but what I'm gonna leave this with is: don't let the logistics bog you down. Because the closer we get to God, the quicker the devil will jump in the mix to thwart what is bound to happen. It's NOT about whys, wheres, hows, and how could yous. It's about a thing that's vastly bigger than we are. It's about a God who's just waiting for us to turn our faces heavenward. Sometimes, it IS about the waiting and the not knowing. But I mean, once you're sold out to Christ, it's like this, one of my favorites: " Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ." ~ Philippians 3:8. There's more of me for Him to take, so as TobyMac sang Saturday night, "I'll just step out the way," ...so He can "steal my show". If you have a problem, that's the solution ...and don't forget there's always more at play than we understand ...so on Mike's behalf, I'll announce that he's been diagnosed this Tuesday morning with bronchitis, an ear infection, and a sinus infection even though he's been on 2 rounds of antibiotics, so Sunday morning was surely trying for him also.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Not a Natural
I just took Michael a pancake, here at 6:10 pm, because I blew up on him when he was making them after church. I was in my own little world searing a roast, thinking about Megan just leaving for Georgia, and that I needed an apron on, and that I thawed out too much meat, and that I was hungry. I could just barely hear him ask where the whisk was. He asked again. I said I didn't know. He kept on ...and I snapped. He muttered something and I lost it. I think he thought I was ignoring him. What I tried to explain to them on the ride home today is just how many balls I have to juggle right not. The problem with prodding people is that we don't know how much pressure they're already under and how explosive the reaction can be ...nevermind PMS.
God has brought us through the heat and now we just have an awful lot of decisions to make. The thing that is still terrific about being an American is that we have choices. The thing about following Jesus is not just making good choices but the best choices. Right now we still need to downsize. For the most part, we've cycled out of help from "the system". As I just told a "soul sister", every aspect of our lives has something up in the air. Should we live close to Mike's work and our new church? Should we have available space there for our daughters in Georgia? Should we start a full fledged garden not knowing and if we don't, will we be able to afford not having one? Should we even consider moving away from access to a football team, Michael's passion, and if so, should we permit his attendance at boarding school to replace it? Isn't 15 too young, especially when we finally found a solidly Biblical church that is burdened to disciple young adults? Should we let him buy the only possession he desires, a powerful dirt bike? Should McKala try to work near her Daddy since they need to share the car? Should we sell the animals? Should we buy one more car since only 5 fit in the one we have? Should we this? Should we that? Should we?
You say, "The Lord knows what is best." Of course, He does. Adhering to that path is a little easier said than done. We have so, so many variables. Virtually every area of our lives is still in limbo. What I do know is limbo is where God needs us so that he can restructure us for His purposes. The other thing I know is that I have all my children, my husband, my parents, and my health; so I have NOTHING to truly complain about.
That's why I do what I do. I'm thankful. I don't deserve a thing that I have. I'm not a soft spoken wife. I'm not a bold enough Christian. I'm not even a particularly good mother; I don't like crafts and games. I proved today I hold no special patience. I'm often too strict or not strict enough. I have almost no common sense. Sometimes I wander aimlessly from task to task. I'm not much of a "natural" anything that I want to be. When my eyes aren't fixed on Christ, I'm vain. I like attention, just like the teenage girl I used to be. I like some good southern rock. I like a good drink. I'm a happy tipsy. In and of themselves those things don't seem harmful, maybe not even bad. But right now, God is asking for my best. Good choices can be good and still not be God. My "good" plans limit what God has in store far and above them.
You know how I know there is a God and that He knows what is best? Because I've never been so close to Him. My soul stirs at the thought of Him, not what He can do for me, but what He has done for me already. As the stationery that my sweet friend made for me says, "All I have seen teaches me to trust for all I have not seen ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson."
Where are you in life? What doesn't make sense? Where are you struggling? Who in your family is suffering? You don't think God is available? Or do you just take Him for granted? You're not a "natural" at Godly things? You're distracted and need a break to focus - I always thought that was the problem. "God, I need a smooth run here, at least for a while, to get my bearings straight." I guess God knew I'd turn back to things that were good in my own eyes, as fine as they may've been, so in the last 5 years: Mike had a procedure that caused aortic dissections when our 7th baby was only 5 weeks old. When all was said and done, life as we knew it was over but my husband lived. I had a son become a quadriplegic but he walked out of the hospital under his own power 9 days later. Our kitchen caught fire in the house we rent and my hand was burned badly but with no permanent damage. I had an almost unbearable temptation, but my husband came to the Lord in the midst of it. I had a time of emotional numbness, but now I cry every time I think of the sacrifice of my Saviour. I had 2 homeless little boys here for 2 months and even though their mother "ripped" them away creating shock and great sadness, my children learned what is to take care of the needy. I had a friendship blossom and whither away all in the same season, but I still pray for her and will always care about her. I had a daughter have to make choices that leave her "friendless" right now. I had a husband who lost control of his truck, ran into the median, went airborn over a culvert, crossed two more lanes of traffic, went up an embankment, rolled over ...and walked away, but his tractor trailer was a total loss, the beginning of the end of his self employment. I had a daughter who became a prodigal but I went to her in her hour (and stayed for a week) of need and now she is fully restored. I had children who invested in calves, babied and bottle fed them and watched helplessly as they tried everything to stop the death that struck half of them. I had a daughter who was overcome with fear and doubt and through much turmoil and counsel is renewed and cheerful in her faith. I had yet another daughter, healthiest one of the bunch, come down with asthma so badly that she was basically on bedrest for 4 months, yet her spirit has grown as she puts God before herself. At the same time, I had a husband whose business spiraled into bankrupty, but by God opening doors, he is working full time in ministry now. But then he broke his leg 2 weeks into the job, but there was Workman's Comp. Just as I was settling into the new year, we had a septic backup into the house all the way into the ceiling and had to live in the Holiday Inn for 3 weeks when they made a crucial discovery, mold, ...which was making our daughter sick.
This is not all. It doesn't include daily disasters. You might be thinking, "Man, you people must be doing something wrong to deserve all that." In part, that's true. But I think it proves there is never an excuse, never, ever, ever to say, "I can't." If WE can, if this marriage can, if these kids can through all the upheaval; then you can. If anything is getting between you and the Lord, if anything is preventing your children from knowing Him, if anything comes before Him, LOSE IT. Moms, if your husband and your kids need you, don't let your circumstances, your finances, your fear, or yourself hinder it. Don't plan on society, even church, getting your kids where they need to be. It falls on you and you can do it. Get out of the box, out of your plans, out of your good ideas, out of the norm, and into the realm of God. And if you weren't "born" with what you think you need to do it, our Lord is faithful to supply it.
God has brought us through the heat and now we just have an awful lot of decisions to make. The thing that is still terrific about being an American is that we have choices. The thing about following Jesus is not just making good choices but the best choices. Right now we still need to downsize. For the most part, we've cycled out of help from "the system". As I just told a "soul sister", every aspect of our lives has something up in the air. Should we live close to Mike's work and our new church? Should we have available space there for our daughters in Georgia? Should we start a full fledged garden not knowing and if we don't, will we be able to afford not having one? Should we even consider moving away from access to a football team, Michael's passion, and if so, should we permit his attendance at boarding school to replace it? Isn't 15 too young, especially when we finally found a solidly Biblical church that is burdened to disciple young adults? Should we let him buy the only possession he desires, a powerful dirt bike? Should McKala try to work near her Daddy since they need to share the car? Should we sell the animals? Should we buy one more car since only 5 fit in the one we have? Should we this? Should we that? Should we?
You say, "The Lord knows what is best." Of course, He does. Adhering to that path is a little easier said than done. We have so, so many variables. Virtually every area of our lives is still in limbo. What I do know is limbo is where God needs us so that he can restructure us for His purposes. The other thing I know is that I have all my children, my husband, my parents, and my health; so I have NOTHING to truly complain about.
That's why I do what I do. I'm thankful. I don't deserve a thing that I have. I'm not a soft spoken wife. I'm not a bold enough Christian. I'm not even a particularly good mother; I don't like crafts and games. I proved today I hold no special patience. I'm often too strict or not strict enough. I have almost no common sense. Sometimes I wander aimlessly from task to task. I'm not much of a "natural" anything that I want to be. When my eyes aren't fixed on Christ, I'm vain. I like attention, just like the teenage girl I used to be. I like some good southern rock. I like a good drink. I'm a happy tipsy. In and of themselves those things don't seem harmful, maybe not even bad. But right now, God is asking for my best. Good choices can be good and still not be God. My "good" plans limit what God has in store far and above them.
You know how I know there is a God and that He knows what is best? Because I've never been so close to Him. My soul stirs at the thought of Him, not what He can do for me, but what He has done for me already. As the stationery that my sweet friend made for me says, "All I have seen teaches me to trust for all I have not seen ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson."
Where are you in life? What doesn't make sense? Where are you struggling? Who in your family is suffering? You don't think God is available? Or do you just take Him for granted? You're not a "natural" at Godly things? You're distracted and need a break to focus - I always thought that was the problem. "God, I need a smooth run here, at least for a while, to get my bearings straight." I guess God knew I'd turn back to things that were good in my own eyes, as fine as they may've been, so in the last 5 years: Mike had a procedure that caused aortic dissections when our 7th baby was only 5 weeks old. When all was said and done, life as we knew it was over but my husband lived. I had a son become a quadriplegic but he walked out of the hospital under his own power 9 days later. Our kitchen caught fire in the house we rent and my hand was burned badly but with no permanent damage. I had an almost unbearable temptation, but my husband came to the Lord in the midst of it. I had a time of emotional numbness, but now I cry every time I think of the sacrifice of my Saviour. I had 2 homeless little boys here for 2 months and even though their mother "ripped" them away creating shock and great sadness, my children learned what is to take care of the needy. I had a friendship blossom and whither away all in the same season, but I still pray for her and will always care about her. I had a daughter have to make choices that leave her "friendless" right now. I had a husband who lost control of his truck, ran into the median, went airborn over a culvert, crossed two more lanes of traffic, went up an embankment, rolled over ...and walked away, but his tractor trailer was a total loss, the beginning of the end of his self employment. I had a daughter who became a prodigal but I went to her in her hour (and stayed for a week) of need and now she is fully restored. I had children who invested in calves, babied and bottle fed them and watched helplessly as they tried everything to stop the death that struck half of them. I had a daughter who was overcome with fear and doubt and through much turmoil and counsel is renewed and cheerful in her faith. I had yet another daughter, healthiest one of the bunch, come down with asthma so badly that she was basically on bedrest for 4 months, yet her spirit has grown as she puts God before herself. At the same time, I had a husband whose business spiraled into bankrupty, but by God opening doors, he is working full time in ministry now. But then he broke his leg 2 weeks into the job, but there was Workman's Comp. Just as I was settling into the new year, we had a septic backup into the house all the way into the ceiling and had to live in the Holiday Inn for 3 weeks when they made a crucial discovery, mold, ...which was making our daughter sick.
This is not all. It doesn't include daily disasters. You might be thinking, "Man, you people must be doing something wrong to deserve all that." In part, that's true. But I think it proves there is never an excuse, never, ever, ever to say, "I can't." If WE can, if this marriage can, if these kids can through all the upheaval; then you can. If anything is getting between you and the Lord, if anything is preventing your children from knowing Him, if anything comes before Him, LOSE IT. Moms, if your husband and your kids need you, don't let your circumstances, your finances, your fear, or yourself hinder it. Don't plan on society, even church, getting your kids where they need to be. It falls on you and you can do it. Get out of the box, out of your plans, out of your good ideas, out of the norm, and into the realm of God. And if you weren't "born" with what you think you need to do it, our Lord is faithful to supply it.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Shoddy
3 weeks to the day in the Holiday Inn Express, we got to come home last Thursday! We managed to sled, fish, swim, volunteer with Mike, give each other haircuts, get Melody's braces on, take McKala for an interview at Chick-fil-A, visit with friends and family, who led us to find ourselves a church, during that time. Mike swept me away to watch "Les Miserables" once more; took me, McKala, and her "special friend" to lunch on a Saturday afternoon; and lastly drove us, more like "spun us", around in the icy snow to get to Golden Corral, which normally isn't our "cup of tea" but the little guys were in awe of the spread and everyone was silly over the endless cotton candy.
The first 2 weeks were like vacation. By the third, the kids had memorized the infomercials and I was feeling the stress of being "on guard" 24/7. Funny how we had our little "routine" there. We got to know all the staff and some of their personal stories. 2 of them told us that better children had never stayed there. I was awfully pleased but, at the same time, worried that today's standards are so much lower, I'm not sure a compliment like that means what it used to.
We had so many things weighing down the car on the way home that Mike kept thinking a tire was getting low. I guess we surprised the workers, even though we'd told them we were coming back when the mold was removed. The house was so neat that I almost want to go back to the hotel. A lot of today will be spent putting the rest of things back in order. After my physical yesterday morning, I got virtually nothing done. I napped a rare nap and napped again. I got up long enough to eat leftover Super Bowl pizza, play Lincoln Logs with Macklynn and Go Fish with Madalynn, and finally watch America's Funniest Videos with Melody and Michael. I slept this morning 'til I couldn't sleep anymore. You know, sometimes a body needs to do that.
Sunday we missed church because of snotty noses and nasty coughs, something I wouldn't dare force on someone else just because I "had" to get to church. We did get a car! We drove to Lenoir and bought it off a family that had just put it on Craig's List. If I recall correctly, it is the first car we've had that was PAID IN FULL. Nevermind the year and aesthetic condition ;)
We got home in enough time to make homemade pizza. Just as we were getting into the first quarter, the TV went out. We went to the phone to report it, and IT was out. Even internet service was down. As usual, we checked all the bills to make sure I hadn't fouled up. When we heard on the radio that the lights at the dome were out, we worried a little. Turns out there was some kind of fiberoptic failure here and life goes on!
The morning before, Mike and I drove McKala to Charlotte Douglas Airport so she could board the flight to Atlanta that her sisters paid for as her 16th birthday gift. She loved it. Our Georgia family is entertaining her well and Megan will bring her back on Friday which will begin our yearly "FebFest". McKala's birthday is the 11th; Madalynn's is the 12th; Michael's is the 15th; Macklynn's is the 18th. We'll have one get her license and one get his permit! We're due for "Homeschool Ski Day" (ha!) and the Winter Jam concert, much less the individual things I like to do with them.
Mike won't get to take the boys to Daytona for their birthdays this year because he's been released to work! He's already been "deployed" to New York. I pray it gets him out of the "haze" that's surrounded him since he broke his leg; getting onto what he was hired for should be the inspiration that evaporates it.
Friday was a day of "reestablishing headquarters". It was also the day that brought on the main idea for this blog. As the workers were putting the finishing touches on, I realized they were leaving some pretty shoddy work. In a brief conversation before the lead contractor left, he revealed he knows the landlord because he "preaches for him sometimes". I surprised my own self with a high pitch, "You're a preacher?!" It hadn't occurred to me at all. The only evidence I had was when we "showed up", the K-Love Mike left on was still playing and maybe even louder.
Until he insuated he was done working, the contractor hadn't given me much reason to think he wasn't a Christian. On the other hand, he hadn't given me any reason to think he was. He was leaving things cosmetically worse than he found them, even though the adjuster said his bid was high.
The question is this: is someone questioning the validity of our faith because of our shoddy work? If we do all to the glory of God, why in the world would we leave things undone and expect payment for them? Why do we cut corners, hoping no one will notice? BECAUSE we haven't died to ourselves! We're still trying to get one up on someone, no matter if it ruins our testimony.
REALLY? Are we satisfied with what God's doing in our own lives so much that we would sacrifice what is best for another?! What kind of religion is that? Oh yeah, "religion" IS the problem. If our lives aren't changed enough to be "infectious" to others, then what good is any of it?
Is there someone, anyone who'd be surprised if you confessed you're a Christian? Count it as shame, as I have myself, and get right with God ...before that acquaintance, like my neighbor's best friend's husband, doesn't wake from his sleep and the loss of opportunity is counted against you. Too, if someone's kid blesses you with a drink and snack, don't leave the trash on the piano when you go.
The first 2 weeks were like vacation. By the third, the kids had memorized the infomercials and I was feeling the stress of being "on guard" 24/7. Funny how we had our little "routine" there. We got to know all the staff and some of their personal stories. 2 of them told us that better children had never stayed there. I was awfully pleased but, at the same time, worried that today's standards are so much lower, I'm not sure a compliment like that means what it used to.
We had so many things weighing down the car on the way home that Mike kept thinking a tire was getting low. I guess we surprised the workers, even though we'd told them we were coming back when the mold was removed. The house was so neat that I almost want to go back to the hotel. A lot of today will be spent putting the rest of things back in order. After my physical yesterday morning, I got virtually nothing done. I napped a rare nap and napped again. I got up long enough to eat leftover Super Bowl pizza, play Lincoln Logs with Macklynn and Go Fish with Madalynn, and finally watch America's Funniest Videos with Melody and Michael. I slept this morning 'til I couldn't sleep anymore. You know, sometimes a body needs to do that.
Sunday we missed church because of snotty noses and nasty coughs, something I wouldn't dare force on someone else just because I "had" to get to church. We did get a car! We drove to Lenoir and bought it off a family that had just put it on Craig's List. If I recall correctly, it is the first car we've had that was PAID IN FULL. Nevermind the year and aesthetic condition ;)
We got home in enough time to make homemade pizza. Just as we were getting into the first quarter, the TV went out. We went to the phone to report it, and IT was out. Even internet service was down. As usual, we checked all the bills to make sure I hadn't fouled up. When we heard on the radio that the lights at the dome were out, we worried a little. Turns out there was some kind of fiberoptic failure here and life goes on!
The morning before, Mike and I drove McKala to Charlotte Douglas Airport so she could board the flight to Atlanta that her sisters paid for as her 16th birthday gift. She loved it. Our Georgia family is entertaining her well and Megan will bring her back on Friday which will begin our yearly "FebFest". McKala's birthday is the 11th; Madalynn's is the 12th; Michael's is the 15th; Macklynn's is the 18th. We'll have one get her license and one get his permit! We're due for "Homeschool Ski Day" (ha!) and the Winter Jam concert, much less the individual things I like to do with them.
Mike won't get to take the boys to Daytona for their birthdays this year because he's been released to work! He's already been "deployed" to New York. I pray it gets him out of the "haze" that's surrounded him since he broke his leg; getting onto what he was hired for should be the inspiration that evaporates it.
Friday was a day of "reestablishing headquarters". It was also the day that brought on the main idea for this blog. As the workers were putting the finishing touches on, I realized they were leaving some pretty shoddy work. In a brief conversation before the lead contractor left, he revealed he knows the landlord because he "preaches for him sometimes". I surprised my own self with a high pitch, "You're a preacher?!" It hadn't occurred to me at all. The only evidence I had was when we "showed up", the K-Love Mike left on was still playing and maybe even louder.
Until he insuated he was done working, the contractor hadn't given me much reason to think he wasn't a Christian. On the other hand, he hadn't given me any reason to think he was. He was leaving things cosmetically worse than he found them, even though the adjuster said his bid was high.
The question is this: is someone questioning the validity of our faith because of our shoddy work? If we do all to the glory of God, why in the world would we leave things undone and expect payment for them? Why do we cut corners, hoping no one will notice? BECAUSE we haven't died to ourselves! We're still trying to get one up on someone, no matter if it ruins our testimony.
REALLY? Are we satisfied with what God's doing in our own lives so much that we would sacrifice what is best for another?! What kind of religion is that? Oh yeah, "religion" IS the problem. If our lives aren't changed enough to be "infectious" to others, then what good is any of it?
Is there someone, anyone who'd be surprised if you confessed you're a Christian? Count it as shame, as I have myself, and get right with God ...before that acquaintance, like my neighbor's best friend's husband, doesn't wake from his sleep and the loss of opportunity is counted against you. Too, if someone's kid blesses you with a drink and snack, don't leave the trash on the piano when you go.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Our Hotel Home
Public service announcement: I AM NOT writing this in a hormonal state. I AM writing this from a hotel suite that thankfully insurance is footing. For those of you who don't already know, the basement floor and even the ceiling of the house we rent were flooded by a septic backup.
Mike, 5 of the kids, and I have been here for 2 weeks already. 3 of us have accidentally called it "home" this week. The hotel has a deal for guests to work out and swim for free at the local Y. There is a continental breakfast prepared every morning. Housekeeping ensures we're well stocked. And every Tuesday supper is catered. Night before last, they sent us up with all the BBQ leftovers!
In an unpublished blog after Christmas, I wrote how I tired of holiday dip, sausage, and pie. I suppose when we leave here, I can say the same of sandwich meat and microwave meals, but probably not of morning cinnamon rolls! The stash of juice, milk, crackers, granola, fruit, and vegetables creates balance. Another balance we've achieved has come from the "forced" time in close quarters. Miranda reminded me this morning how much it's like the weeks we spent in the truck with Mike when she was young.
The things I've sought but have been just out of reach are found here. The children have to manage to respect each other in these 2 rooms we're residing in, since I'm within earshot of every encounter. Teaching has been easy since there are few distractions. Madalynn is swimming well without her life jacket; Michael has begun weight training; McKala is walking and running on the treadmill in spite of the asthma; and Mike's been walking some distance on his healing leg.
Right now I'm sitting next to the "room" Macklynn's made with chairs, coffee tables, cushions, pillows, and blankets. It reminds me more of the barricades of "Les Miserables" than the place he's prepared for us all to convene for Jello at 10 pm. Tomorrow night Madalynn will reinvent it for us to sit by the great window as the winter precipitation falls and she serves popcorn and hot chocolate!
As content as I truly am with the circumstances, it reminds me of just how much a vagabond in this "world" that I am. And "rightly so". If I had it my way many years ago, I'd have every detail of my life "just so": matching beyond matching wardrobes; symmetrical bliss of interior and exterior decorating; overbooked, overachieving, likely morally numb children; and, of course, all on a budget to die for on a course to a perfect retirement. I wouldn't have seen in any real sense that "this world is not my home". I might've caved to what is readily accepted in this chaotic culture.
I might never have known that my children need to learn how to serve, lived out daily. I might never have understood that a spanking done properly enough to remember is far less punishment than the suffering life will put on an undisciplined adult. ( Even though a parent should do everything not to bruise, even "nature" presents itself in bruising so that we never want to "try that again".) I might never have comprehended that blessing and cursing can't arise from the same fountain, might never had winced at the words that come so naturely to the public at large now. I might never have discovered that children learn more from what is incidental and relative than what is planned, that quality time can't be created in a slot. I might never have searched for sexuality that is beautiful, shameless, and perfect in God's pretense. I might never have been shocked that our daughters suffered many workplace harrassments for standing firm. I might never have seen that young people who have no way to support themselves have no business dating, learning well how to divorce. I might never have questioned why people think that living together, lying to each other, and cheating the system are acceptable. I might never have spoken against lyrics of music I enjoy. I might never have seen disaster as divinely permitted.
I surely would never have learned that dying to myself is the whole purpose of living. I surely wouldn't have been privy to the nuasances, the subtlety that the serpent has used to desensitize, to blind throngs of people. I surely would not know an ounce of grace without a Jesus who visits me with it.
"Handling" grace is maybe the hardest thing I've done. It's much like a scalpel trying to divide the cancer away from the healthy flesh. In addressing sin, inevitably something's going to hurt, someone's going to get hurt. In stepping away from traditions of the community and politically correctness, I've seen each member of our family go through an unnamed process. It's a time of awakening to how bad things really have gotten, a time of disdain and disgust, a great temptation to remain self righteous. We prove the sincerity of The Faith when we choose to step back in, reenter the game ...but with renewed boldness and purpose with unreasonable amounts of grace, with unexplicable behaviour and answers, except that they be from an almighty merciful God.
If it means that I have to habitate in a hotel room to be kept on my toes for God's will, then "so be it". The mold that makes McKala sick was found AND the church that's alluded us was found, so ...as far as I'm concerned, this stay was "meant to be".
Mike, 5 of the kids, and I have been here for 2 weeks already. 3 of us have accidentally called it "home" this week. The hotel has a deal for guests to work out and swim for free at the local Y. There is a continental breakfast prepared every morning. Housekeeping ensures we're well stocked. And every Tuesday supper is catered. Night before last, they sent us up with all the BBQ leftovers!
In an unpublished blog after Christmas, I wrote how I tired of holiday dip, sausage, and pie. I suppose when we leave here, I can say the same of sandwich meat and microwave meals, but probably not of morning cinnamon rolls! The stash of juice, milk, crackers, granola, fruit, and vegetables creates balance. Another balance we've achieved has come from the "forced" time in close quarters. Miranda reminded me this morning how much it's like the weeks we spent in the truck with Mike when she was young.
The things I've sought but have been just out of reach are found here. The children have to manage to respect each other in these 2 rooms we're residing in, since I'm within earshot of every encounter. Teaching has been easy since there are few distractions. Madalynn is swimming well without her life jacket; Michael has begun weight training; McKala is walking and running on the treadmill in spite of the asthma; and Mike's been walking some distance on his healing leg.
Right now I'm sitting next to the "room" Macklynn's made with chairs, coffee tables, cushions, pillows, and blankets. It reminds me more of the barricades of "Les Miserables" than the place he's prepared for us all to convene for Jello at 10 pm. Tomorrow night Madalynn will reinvent it for us to sit by the great window as the winter precipitation falls and she serves popcorn and hot chocolate!
As content as I truly am with the circumstances, it reminds me of just how much a vagabond in this "world" that I am. And "rightly so". If I had it my way many years ago, I'd have every detail of my life "just so": matching beyond matching wardrobes; symmetrical bliss of interior and exterior decorating; overbooked, overachieving, likely morally numb children; and, of course, all on a budget to die for on a course to a perfect retirement. I wouldn't have seen in any real sense that "this world is not my home". I might've caved to what is readily accepted in this chaotic culture.
I might never have known that my children need to learn how to serve, lived out daily. I might never have understood that a spanking done properly enough to remember is far less punishment than the suffering life will put on an undisciplined adult. ( Even though a parent should do everything not to bruise, even "nature" presents itself in bruising so that we never want to "try that again".) I might never have comprehended that blessing and cursing can't arise from the same fountain, might never had winced at the words that come so naturely to the public at large now. I might never have discovered that children learn more from what is incidental and relative than what is planned, that quality time can't be created in a slot. I might never have searched for sexuality that is beautiful, shameless, and perfect in God's pretense. I might never have been shocked that our daughters suffered many workplace harrassments for standing firm. I might never have seen that young people who have no way to support themselves have no business dating, learning well how to divorce. I might never have questioned why people think that living together, lying to each other, and cheating the system are acceptable. I might never have spoken against lyrics of music I enjoy. I might never have seen disaster as divinely permitted.
I surely would never have learned that dying to myself is the whole purpose of living. I surely wouldn't have been privy to the nuasances, the subtlety that the serpent has used to desensitize, to blind throngs of people. I surely would not know an ounce of grace without a Jesus who visits me with it.
"Handling" grace is maybe the hardest thing I've done. It's much like a scalpel trying to divide the cancer away from the healthy flesh. In addressing sin, inevitably something's going to hurt, someone's going to get hurt. In stepping away from traditions of the community and politically correctness, I've seen each member of our family go through an unnamed process. It's a time of awakening to how bad things really have gotten, a time of disdain and disgust, a great temptation to remain self righteous. We prove the sincerity of The Faith when we choose to step back in, reenter the game ...but with renewed boldness and purpose with unreasonable amounts of grace, with unexplicable behaviour and answers, except that they be from an almighty merciful God.
If it means that I have to habitate in a hotel room to be kept on my toes for God's will, then "so be it". The mold that makes McKala sick was found AND the church that's alluded us was found, so ...as far as I'm concerned, this stay was "meant to be".
Thursday, December 20, 2012
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.
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.
Monday, December 10, 2012
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 hardship of this marriage. 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.
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 hardship of this marriage. 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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)