Had I Been Warned

Do you feel disconnected from God?  Not sure how to reconnect, or why you even feel a disconnect?  Could it be overuse of technology?  A thoughtful discussion on this here-- Push Button Faith.  One of Tozer's works is quoted.  The post is quite a good read, including the comment section.
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A week ago we ordered some more Hugh Lofting works--author of The Story of Dr. Doolittle.  The library staff responds quickly; we're now halfway through Doctor Dolittle and the Green Canary.

Oh, Mr. Lofting!  Can you ever weave a good tale!  We're mesmerized by the adventures of this little green canary, world traveler.

My six year old wasn't pleased at first.  Chapter one dragged along.  Highly visual, Paul still prefers picture books for the most part.  I reminded him that authors appreciate our patience as they warm us toward their characters.

Sure enough, Hugh Lofting had my boy's heart midway through chapter 2.

I am blessed.  Tucking the boys in tonight--their heads full of the green canary's wild, human-like adventures--I had an epiphany about my life, my circumstances.

Had I been warned five years ago about the cost of going down to one income, I would have given up my dream of being a stay-at-home mom.  Fear would have gripped me.
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The warning would read thus:

- You'll be down to one car, stuck at home with four children.

- You'll repeat the same chores almost hourly.  You'll rarely rest.  No lunch breaks.

- You'll never go on a vacation, or on a weekend away, or even to a movie.  You might dine out with a giftcard once a year.  You'll afford McDonald's hamburgers when on the run, but will have to forgo the drinks; you'll share one fry order.

- You'll never own the latest fashions.  You'll likely never buy a new garment.  You'll scramble to keep your lips lipsticked.  Every additional garment in the house will be from a thrift store, as well as most of the toys, books and decorations.  You'll never make another full-price bookstore purchase, or own a new book.

- You'll have no financial security.  You won't make enough to save.  Retirement plan?  What's that?  Each month, the financial math will scream red.

- Your vehicle will always be on the brink of extinction.  Every spare penny will go into it.

- People will wonder how you can live in such a fashion, and will secretly think you're a simpleton.

- When a child asks for something, such as sand for the sandbox, you'll have to repeatedly say, "Not yet.  Pray about it.  God decides what we should have."

- A store bought card will be too expensive.  You will not buy your extended family any more gifts, and yet they might continue giving gifts, making you feel small.
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Hearing all this, I would have abandoned my dream of being a stay-at-home mom.  Fear would have enveloped my small-faithed, entrenched-in-the-culture heart.  My children would have gone to daycare; I wouldn't have any daughters.

But wow!  The lifestyle above has come to pass.  Slowly.

God didn't spring all the change on me at once.  He meets us where we're at--never overburdening.  This is precisely why we mustn't judge others.  We can't know where they're at.  Only God can.

God slowly:

Built my faith.

Changed my heart.

Imparted wisdom.

Extracted me from the culture.

Filled me with Himself.

Gave me joy in simple things, like bird nests in my yard, a tale expertly woven, a meal thoughtfully prepared.

He taught me about togetherness.

About the richness of family relationship.

About the joys of breaking bread together.  Reading the Word together.  Dancing to Jesus songs together.

Creating together.

He made a huge dent in my self-consciousness.  And in my selfishness.

He blessed.  And blessed.  And blessed.

He's still blessing.

No, not in ways recognized by the culture.

Only my heart recognizes the blessings.  Savors them.  Counts them.


The loveliest change?


I've learned that every day is Thanksgiving day.

my pantry lessons

If you're going to cook and bake from scratch, have a well-stocked pantry.  I'm learning.

They loved the brownies.  More!  Let's make them again!

But no cocoa powder left for the frosting recipe.  No chocolate chips to melt.  Only unsweetened baking chocolate squares in the cupboard.

We finally used a recipe that called for melted semi-sweet chocolate chips, and just added extra (powered) sugar to sweeten up the baking squares.  Chocolate is horrible tasting.  Really horrible.  Without the sugar.  Notice that?  Good for you though.

Anyhow, the frosting recipe we planned on altering called for 2 cups of sugar.  Regular sugar.  I didn't notice this oddity as I was quickly mixing it up.

Then, I noticed.  Eeeww.  Grainy.  There is a reason frosting should be made with powdered sugar, rather than granulated.

We added this and that, trying to take away the grainy taste.  Then we stopped adding and decided to settle. They liked it; I was the one with the problem.

Momma:  "What a bother!  I will surely never print such a stupid frosting recipe again.  Who puts granulated sugar in frosting?

I was mostly talking to myself.  It was getting late and I was irritated.  I didn't intend on spending so much time on the baking.

Peter:  "Mommy!  You said stupid!  That's not nice."

Oops.

Notes to self:

- Buy every type of sugar, every type of chocolate (melting squares, cocoa powder, chips),  and every type of flour.

- Find a website on cooking/baking substitutions.

- Don't be a perfectionist!  It's frosting!  Just frosting!  Not some sculpture or painting.

- Don't call a recipe stupid, even if you've just spent half an hour doctoring it up.

- Use a thesaurus to come up with fancy words for stupid.  Tape the list to the cupboard if necessary.

Happy Father's Day!

A Father's Day post worth reading.  Wow!  You will only be able to say, "Wow!"

When no Father's Day card fits for your father

For those who have been hurt by their fathers, and have trouble finding just the right Father's Day card.... I found this, for you.  It's beautiful and hopeful.

Happy Father's Day!

counting my blessings

Counting my blessings, crying tears over them:

- Many hands together in the Saturday pancake batter.

- Holding my Beth during dinner prep, because she smells good, her cheeks are soft for kissing, she is curious and happy when observing kitchen chaos work.

- My Paul, telling me tonight, "I'm sorry my voice is loud, Mommy.  I just get so excited sometimes.  I think I can't help it."

- My children, who kiss their daddy happily before he leaves for work.

- My husband, who never forgets my kiss.

- Many hands in the brownie frosting, cocoa powder and powdered sugar all over the kitchen.  "This is the best frosting I have ever tasted!"--shouted, loudly! by Paul.  See above.

- My Peter, who loves food so much he can barely contain himself on dessert nights.  He finishes first, jumps up, and says, "I'll go get the brownies and some plates!"  Meanwhile, the rest of us are only half-way through our dinner.  At eight years old, he eats far more than I do and burns every calorie.  I love his passion--for insects, for amphibians, for food, for cooking and baking, for life.

- For my Mary, who went in the kiddy pool without a swimmy diaper.  "Be sure and come back if you have to go potty", Momma reminds.  "Don't go in the pool."  Mary is fully capable, but she's holding on to diapers to preserve something special between Momma and herself.  She wants to be a big girl...she is a big girl in many ways....but to do all the potty things herself is to say goodbye to a relationship.  Diapering is a relationship.  I sense her letting go.  My guess is in about six weeks, she'll never look back.

She ran in the house needing to go, but someone had locked the door to the bathroom accidentally, and the delay meant she peed on the floor by the toilet.

"Mommy, I accidentally peed on the floor."  She waits.  Studies my face.

"Okay", said Momma.  "Go ahead and wash your hands in the other bathroom while I clean this up."

"Are you mad at me, Mommy?"  (Mary is my sweetest child at this time.  So sensitive and lovely.)

"No, my love.  This wasn't your fault.  You came in just like Momma asked you to."

"Thank you, Mommy."

Thank you, Mary.  Thank you.


I love you, my precious ones!  All of you!