Thursday, August 4, 2011

Grace Like Rain

My toddler wakes up the same way every morning. Her sleepy eyes half open, she utters "Pea nur me?"

Shall I translate for you?  She doesn't form an s sound yet, so this is actually, "Please nurse me?"

I'm up late every night, so nursing her instead of getting up always appeals to me. In fact, I offer to nurse her over and over again, every morning. Sometimes it buys me another half hour of sleep. Sometimes not.

When she's ready to get up, she says, "All dun now", and slides off the end of the king bed. She beckons me, waving her sweet little curled fingers toward herself, saying "Cumon." (come on)

I never tire of this routine. She sleeps through the night most of the time now, so we'll put her in with her sister as soon as we have a chunk of rearranging time. I'll still nurse her as long as she wants and welcome her back when needed, knowing this is very unpopular in America. The world over, the average age to wean is four years old. In America on the other hand, if you don't want your baby off your breast and out of your bed by six months to a year, you're a granola-crunching weirdo with issues. Independence in young children is next to godliness.

I like my issues.....but no thanks on the granola. Chocolate for me.

This morning as she led me around the house, I wanted to crawl back in bed and hibernate. I'd worked about eight hours over two days on the boys' portfolios. Around here, when Momma works on a project the house quickly deteriorates, resembling a tornado sight in no time.

In addition to the runaway clutter, it badly needed a vacuuming, moping, and dusting. Three people were officially out of clean underwear, three loads needed folding, and the dining room was full of clean clothes on hangers, ready for closets.

There's plenty a reason to hibernate. Something goes wrong with one of the vehicles about every five days lately. The van needs smog work done or we have to ground it. We obtained a 30-day temporary registration renewal, but the clock ticks.

Things keep breaking around the house. The weather is the worst I've seen in six summers here.

Peter said the other day, "Mommy, why are so many things going wrong?"

"I don't know Honey, but trust God. He has a story to tell. There's always a story......and we'll always appreciate the ending. We have to hang on for the hard parts and wait on His graces."

Every day, as stress boils under the surface, it's hard not to worry about the kids. But always, God speaks. "I'm bigger than your problems.  Your kids are under My care."

One day they'll whine for a little bit, feel sorry for themselves, and then suddenly, they're thrilled with their GeoTrak train for two hours, excited about sorting their blocks by color and using them for cargo. They all have a role and work together at the quarry--even incorporating their two-year-old sister.

This kind of thing happens all the time. Yesterday they taped two diaper boxes together and using paint, made a large Thomas the Train, adding accents like whistles and ladders using paper and more tape.

Today, however, as I plowed through the domestic disaster, it looked as though we were in for a rough day. Being asked to clean the playroom (also a cyclone sight) sent them into a whiny tailspin. Thirty minutes into the job, it only got uglier.

Suddenly.....grace rained down. Just in time for Momma's nerves.

They gathered together some musical instruments and made a marching band. All giggles again. Fifteen minutes later, the boys became song writers, spending thirty minutes composing a simple praise song, giving each sibling a solo.

FYI: The funny spelling is courtesy of my Peter, age nine. The teacher who reviewed the portfolios yesterday has a son just like him. Her opinion is that you'll never make a non-speller a speller. But by the teenage years, they'll hopefully spell well enough to get hints from spell check. Her son is a sophomore in college and he now routinely writes paragraphs with only two or so misspellings. Spell check has his back. Every learner is unique, but certainly it's true that some people always struggle with spelling. Peter's focus is on content only. He can't be bothered with the parts....only the whole.

Mary's Part:

Trifek God (terrific)
O Lord, O Lord
We love you.
So gasfol you are. (graceful)
So mighty, so strong you are.
You love us and we love you.
You are merrsefol. (merciful)

Paul's Part

O Lord, O Lord
We love you.
So gasfol God you are.
So mighty so strong you are.
You love us and we love you.
You are merrsefol.

Peter's Part

The lord watches over us
So don't be afraid of anything!
Don't be afraid.
The Lord watches over us
So don't be afraid of anything!

Mary's & Beth's Part

O the Lord, O the Lord
You are mighty
Unlike us
O the Lord, O the Lord
You are mighty
Unlike us
The only God
The Lord

I don't need to tell you that after reading and hearing these lyrics, all arranged on separate pieces of paper, my joy and peace went through the roof.

Grace falls like rain on a scorching hot day. Watch for it.

Go out without an umbrella. Dance in it.

Psalm 28:7
The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song.


Sandi said...

What a beautiful post! Such an honest testimony of God's grace in everyday life.

Big hugs friend...still praying for you and yours.

Christine said...

Thank you, Sandi! Feeling those prayers.

Katherine said...

Wow, God has really gifted your kids as song writers! I had to laugh at the no underwear part. We are there all the time, lol! Its nice to know I'm not the only one :)

Franzwa said...

Every time I've been here, I've been encouraged. Thanks and continue to post.

Christine said...

Thank you, Franzwa!