The unknown steals my peace. No, it doesn't have to; I realize it's a choice. Anything that steals my peace holds me in bondage.
My unknowns: Will husband get a job soon that pays the bills? How long can we keep our house, under these conditions? Will my son grow up to be functional? If we replace our unreliable, ancient gas range, will that money later be needed for the house payment? If we choose a bottom-of-the-line model, will it need repairs before the warranty runs out? Why is the water heater working less efficiently? How long before it goes out? Will any tax refund money be left, when it does? What curriculum purchases are absolutely necessary to do an adequate teaching job? Will we be able to get a second used vehicle this year? Will our van, driven 200,000 miles, last another year? How will husband get to work....and the kids to the library and events, if it doesn't?
Sometimes I'm filled with the Spirit and nothing phases me.
Other times, because too many things go wrong at once, I can't keep my eyes on God. My earthly existence, my earthly troubles, overwhelm.
If I want an abundant life, I must give thanks for these troubles. Indeed, not only give thanks, but refuse to take them up as mine to solve.
The other thing that steals my peace is frustration. When things go awry on the homefront, and there's nothing I can do to prevent it, I fail to relinquish control fast enough, allowing God to steer.
When the two-year-old is tired, or cranky from teething, and kicks me when I change her, I'm apt to take it personally and get angry, rather than stoically deal with it--especially if the other children have been handfuls in the previous hour.
When the nine-year-old is unpredictable, disrespectful, or aggressive, I'm apt to discipline with too many words and too much anger, relinquishing control over to him, rather than maintaining it.
The message to my children? Mommy is mean. Mommy doesn't follow what Jesus says. The same discipline, if delivered with neutrality, does not seem mean, but appropriate.
As a teacher, children told me things that would have horrified their parents, had they known. I know what children think about yelling, ugly-faced parents. It isn't pretty.
Yes, they forgive, usually, when we confess right away. But they never stop wishing we'd be nicer....more controlled.
And worst of all, they grow up remembering the ugly faces, the yelling.
If your kids are still little, you probably don't yell yet. Maybe you never will. If you get frequent breaks, you're less likely to ever start yelling. I didn't yell when I had two kids under four. It happens later, when they know better but do the wrong things anyway, over and over. (Kind of like us adults? Only Jesus doesn't yell at us!)
When it comes to managing out-of-control children, emotion is bad. Stoicism, or rather neutrality, is good.
How do I remain the adult? The benevolent teacher? The spirit-filled Christian?
In my flesh, I can't be these things all the time. How do I avoid frustration and guilt--despite knowing God's grace covers my iniquities?
Dealing with the unknown.
Sinning in my frustration.
I know my weaknesses.
Dear God, help me give thanks for these weaknesses. Help me to count them as gifts. Only then, will I experience victory over their bondage.
Whatsoever draws me closer to God, and further from myself, is a gift.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Now, Our God, We Give You Thanks
Oh, the joy of new cookie sheets! Small things delight small people.
I love that.
See that mischievous one on the left there? She gave me an awful scare yesterday by getting into pure vanilla extract. Paul had gotten ingredients out for a cake, and I told Peter to watch them while I put a few pajamas away. I feared Beth would dump the sugar or flour on the floor (or something). The vanilla extract wasn't on my radar.
Five minutes later I went out to the kitchen to find Beth on a chair, with vanilla extract spilled down her chin. I got the poison center number, after having myself a little panic, and learned that she'd probably be fine, but I should watch her for drunkenness. (Um, what two year old doesn't act a little drunk? They're a goofy lot, to say the least.) Thankfully we had used about 4 teaspoons of the extract, and there was still half of it left after the scare, so it appears she tried to drink some but it spilled down her chin and little got into her system.
The spilling down her chin? That was the grace of God! Vanilla extract is 70% ethanol by volume. Never before has it been an issue; when the others were little I used store-bought cookies and desserts. I simply didn't bake much at all. Whole foods or not, I'm seriously considering buying the fake vanilla extract until Beth is four years old. In my research, I also learned that nutmeg is dangerous for little ones. I don't have a locked place to keep spices. That ingenious Beth can get into any cupboard in the kitchen.
Here are some facts from justthefactsbaby.com
Baking Hazards
While your kids may love to help out with holiday baking, make sure spices and extracts are kept out of reach. Children can get high from nutmeg and become intoxicated and extremely sick from ethanol-containing products, such as vanilla and almond extracts. Ethanol causes Central Nervous System depression, which can lead to respiratory compromise when ingested. It may also result in dilated pupils, flushed skin, gastrointestinal distress, hypothermia and hypotension. Vanilla extract can be harmful even in small doses, as it contains up to 70 percent ethanol by volume (compared to beer, which contains between two and six percent ethanol). If you suspect your child has helped themselves to vanilla extract, contact your doctor immediately.
When the naughty mother eats too many chocolate baking chips, it's chocolate chocolate-chip cookies, without the chips. Still good, mind you.
I wish I could say that I eat chocolate chips merely because I love them.....but no. The truth is I eat them because life with a two year old, delightful though she is, can be exhausting and stressful. The more she gets into mischief, the more I go to the cupboard to get a few chips. Lord give me strength! Or carrots. The good news is that with her around, I rarely sit down, so chocolate chips don't make me fat.
What will I do when my house is emptied of their art? I say yes to paint, to the mess, because someday there will be no brilliance like this coloring my walls. (Mary, age 4)
Eventually, we get around to washing hair and bodies. I will miss bath letters someday, just like the brilliant paintings.
When you go into a closed bedroom to nurse your baby, you never know what the rest of them are concocting. You just pray they survive your absence.
There will always be God's brilliant colors!
Blue sky and sunshine after a new snow. The camera doesn't capture it, but it's beautiful on these bright mornings.
The landscape changed again Sunday night. All this snow is gone now. Last night brought 50 degrees and thunderstorms.
Monday Gratitude
- For a book series that has my Peter continuing to read, despite his ongoing OCD issue with the repeating of words and phrases. The mystery series, Jigsaw Jones, for 2nd and 3rd graders, is wholesome and funny. I've read four of the series and I'm pleased with them, as are Peter and Paul. I've laughed out loud and shed tears at the sweetness of the little boy, Jigsaw Jones. They are fast-paced with good storyweaving. Mind you, I've not read all of them yet, so I can't vouch for the whole series. I read four chapters ahead of Peter and then hand the book over to him. After he's caught up with me, I read four more chapters ahead. He enjoys sharing the mystery, the jokes, and the smiles with me.
- For the Leapfrog Twist and Shout Multiplication device, purchased from Amazon for $22. Peter is already making great strides with his facts, after just a few days.
- For a gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love.
- For the dawning of a new day......for a new opportunity to be the face of Christ to my children.
- Holding husband's hand during church.
- For my children, who always forgive my sins after I confess. It took me a half hour to fix a toilet tonight. It made us late for baths, stories, bedtime, and I had myself a little hissy fit, exhausted from frustration. Parental fits stress the children and I always loathe myself afterwards. Nighttime solo parenting is so hard, but God has blessed me with forgiving children!
- Family bonds strengthened by homeschooling
- Learning, living, working, loving.....together
1 Chronicles 16:8
Give thanks to the LORD, call on his name; make known among the nations what he has done.
1 Chronicles 16:34
Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever.
1 Chronicles 29:13
Now, our God, we give you thanks, and praise your glorious name.
Give thanks to the LORD, call on his name; make known among the nations what he has done.
1 Chronicles 16:34
Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever.
1 Chronicles 29:13
Now, our God, we give you thanks, and praise your glorious name.
Monday, February 28, 2011
my answer
My nine-year-old son is afraid every night.
OCD steals his peace, haunts his dreams, fragments his sleep.
Someone is going to put a spear through my bed.
If he lets his hand dangle on one side of his bed, or too close to the edge, something will come up from under his bed and chop it off.
He's sure someone is lurking in the hallway. He tries not to look up.
If he doesn't turn over a certain number of times in his bed, something bad will happen.
No.....these aren't the thoughts of a child allowed too much cable TV.
We don't have cable. And the Mom and Dad here never watch movies--rented or otherwise. No time.
For six weeks, at his request, I laid down with him until he fell asleep. It was how I could be the face of Jesus to a hurting boy, afflicted with an ugly disorder.
But I ended up falling asleep in there, finally emerging around 10:20 P.M. most nights, with a groggy body and a slew of chores to do. It just wasn't working. My sleep was fragmented by my two year old, as well. And I had no down time.
Last week I told him I would merely pray, cuddle for a bit, and then leave the room, as I'd done for years. Most of the nights since then, everything has gone relatively well, thank God.
There are problems in the middle of the night, too. My husband started sleeping in the spare queen bed, so that when our son awakens at night, scared out of his mind, he would have a place to go that wouldn't involve him waking the baby.
Most nights he ends up with Daddy in the wee hours, sometimes so scared from a dream that he can't fall asleep unless he can touch Daddy's arm or shoulder.
Sometimes he can't fall back asleep because he's uncomfortable, but he fears if he shifts from his spot, a bomb will explode under the bed.
OCD has an ugly, cruel voice.
My sister-in-law, who had a son at age sixteen, told us recently that her son washed his hands incessantly and had horribly scary dreams as well, when he was our son's age. As a young mother, she wasn't aware of OCD and didn't know to ask questions at the pediatrician's office. Her son had other peculiarities growing up. He recently sought help, at age 33. The diagnosis? OCD and Bi-Polar Disorder.
He is single, lonely, depressed, dysfunctional. He's never had a girlfriend, though he's always wanted one. He would like to marry someday, but is terribly scared of dating. He lacks personal confidence and suffers from social phobia. He doesn't take his medicine, so he frequently experiences the slumps of Bi-Polar. He does manage to hold onto his job as an auto mechanic. He's a good one.
My father-in-law, whom I've seen only twice in twelve years, is very peculiar. Since his wife's auto-accident death 36 years ago (husband's mother), he has remained a widower, though not by choice. His peculiarities point to something neurological. He's estranged from his two kids (my husband and my sister-in-law), by his own choice. He doesn't answer his phone or open letters, so we check on him via a neighbor. He's in his mid-eighties.
When my husband and sister-in-law went down to Florida to see their Dad three years ago, after their Dad underwent hip surgery, things went awry with the relationship. Their father got very upset that Lorrie cleaned his house while he was in the hospital. It hadn't been cleaned in years. He suspected she was looking for money, though distrust had never permeated the relationship before, as far as either child could tell. Other strange things upset him that visit, causing a three-year silence from him.
The other night, my son's fear was great.
And I wasn't the face of Jesus. I was irritated. After battling two days of full-day headaches, I couldn't be the face of Jesus to anyone. I was spent.
He went to sleep finally, after I angrily told him not to come out again.
But I felt horrible. I wanted a do over.
He didn't choose the cards he's been dealt. He doesn't know how to make OCD go away.
How will I have enough strength, enough grace, enough agape love, to be the face of Jesus, every day, to this boy--despite whatever else goes wrong in my life?
Everything points to my son having a dysfunctional, unhappy life. Others before him, of the same blood, haven't faired well. What makes me think God will spare my own son from the same earthly dysfunction, or worse?
My own husband, afflicted with, as far as I know, just regular inattentive-type ADHD, hasn't led a happy life. At eighteen, husband was sure God was calling him to the ministry--either a pastoral position or a missionary one. He was so sure.
He spent five years in Bible College and a year in Seminary. To get by while in school, he worked as a custodian.
Now 52, he still works as a custodian. He's haunted by that fact, every day. What went wrong? How could he have felt so sure of God's voice, calling him to ministry?
The answer, I know, is to practice gratitude every day, despite how one's life turns out. Despite deep disappointment, despair. Despite walking a path not chosen. Who knows whether certain paths result from our own mistakes, or because God preordained them for us?
When I'm called to comfort those I live with, over things hard to swallow, it's so difficult to say, "You have God and He is enough. Our salvation is enough. His grace is enough."
I say different forms of this same thing. Over and over. I don't know what else to say. I don't have any other answers.
My answer may not work at the moment it's given. Life entails ups and downs, for everyone. In a deep down time, it sounds like the last thing even a Christian wants to hear.
But when a beautiful woodpecker appears at our feeder, it all makes sense.
In that moment.
The abundant life is lived in moments from God. They are our grace.
When we give thanks for them, when we identify the moments as gifts from God, they carry us through to that glorious time....
...when Jesus takes our hand, receiving us in Paradise.
OCD steals his peace, haunts his dreams, fragments his sleep.
Someone is going to put a spear through my bed.
If he lets his hand dangle on one side of his bed, or too close to the edge, something will come up from under his bed and chop it off.
He's sure someone is lurking in the hallway. He tries not to look up.
If he doesn't turn over a certain number of times in his bed, something bad will happen.
No.....these aren't the thoughts of a child allowed too much cable TV.
We don't have cable. And the Mom and Dad here never watch movies--rented or otherwise. No time.
For six weeks, at his request, I laid down with him until he fell asleep. It was how I could be the face of Jesus to a hurting boy, afflicted with an ugly disorder.
But I ended up falling asleep in there, finally emerging around 10:20 P.M. most nights, with a groggy body and a slew of chores to do. It just wasn't working. My sleep was fragmented by my two year old, as well. And I had no down time.
Last week I told him I would merely pray, cuddle for a bit, and then leave the room, as I'd done for years. Most of the nights since then, everything has gone relatively well, thank God.
There are problems in the middle of the night, too. My husband started sleeping in the spare queen bed, so that when our son awakens at night, scared out of his mind, he would have a place to go that wouldn't involve him waking the baby.
Most nights he ends up with Daddy in the wee hours, sometimes so scared from a dream that he can't fall asleep unless he can touch Daddy's arm or shoulder.
Sometimes he can't fall back asleep because he's uncomfortable, but he fears if he shifts from his spot, a bomb will explode under the bed.
OCD has an ugly, cruel voice.
My sister-in-law, who had a son at age sixteen, told us recently that her son washed his hands incessantly and had horribly scary dreams as well, when he was our son's age. As a young mother, she wasn't aware of OCD and didn't know to ask questions at the pediatrician's office. Her son had other peculiarities growing up. He recently sought help, at age 33. The diagnosis? OCD and Bi-Polar Disorder.
He is single, lonely, depressed, dysfunctional. He's never had a girlfriend, though he's always wanted one. He would like to marry someday, but is terribly scared of dating. He lacks personal confidence and suffers from social phobia. He doesn't take his medicine, so he frequently experiences the slumps of Bi-Polar. He does manage to hold onto his job as an auto mechanic. He's a good one.
My father-in-law, whom I've seen only twice in twelve years, is very peculiar. Since his wife's auto-accident death 36 years ago (husband's mother), he has remained a widower, though not by choice. His peculiarities point to something neurological. He's estranged from his two kids (my husband and my sister-in-law), by his own choice. He doesn't answer his phone or open letters, so we check on him via a neighbor. He's in his mid-eighties.
When my husband and sister-in-law went down to Florida to see their Dad three years ago, after their Dad underwent hip surgery, things went awry with the relationship. Their father got very upset that Lorrie cleaned his house while he was in the hospital. It hadn't been cleaned in years. He suspected she was looking for money, though distrust had never permeated the relationship before, as far as either child could tell. Other strange things upset him that visit, causing a three-year silence from him.
The other night, my son's fear was great.
And I wasn't the face of Jesus. I was irritated. After battling two days of full-day headaches, I couldn't be the face of Jesus to anyone. I was spent.
He went to sleep finally, after I angrily told him not to come out again.
But I felt horrible. I wanted a do over.
He didn't choose the cards he's been dealt. He doesn't know how to make OCD go away.
How will I have enough strength, enough grace, enough agape love, to be the face of Jesus, every day, to this boy--despite whatever else goes wrong in my life?
Everything points to my son having a dysfunctional, unhappy life. Others before him, of the same blood, haven't faired well. What makes me think God will spare my own son from the same earthly dysfunction, or worse?
My own husband, afflicted with, as far as I know, just regular inattentive-type ADHD, hasn't led a happy life. At eighteen, husband was sure God was calling him to the ministry--either a pastoral position or a missionary one. He was so sure.
He spent five years in Bible College and a year in Seminary. To get by while in school, he worked as a custodian.
Now 52, he still works as a custodian. He's haunted by that fact, every day. What went wrong? How could he have felt so sure of God's voice, calling him to ministry?
The answer, I know, is to practice gratitude every day, despite how one's life turns out. Despite deep disappointment, despair. Despite walking a path not chosen. Who knows whether certain paths result from our own mistakes, or because God preordained them for us?
When I'm called to comfort those I live with, over things hard to swallow, it's so difficult to say, "You have God and He is enough. Our salvation is enough. His grace is enough."
I say different forms of this same thing. Over and over. I don't know what else to say. I don't have any other answers.
My answer may not work at the moment it's given. Life entails ups and downs, for everyone. In a deep down time, it sounds like the last thing even a Christian wants to hear.
But when a beautiful woodpecker appears at our feeder, it all makes sense.
In that moment.
The abundant life is lived in moments from God. They are our grace.
When we give thanks for them, when we identify the moments as gifts from God, they carry us through to that glorious time....
...when Jesus takes our hand, receiving us in Paradise.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Spelling City
Have you heard of the award-winning site, Spelling City?
If not, here are a few details:
- It's free. For a few more perks, you can join for a modest fee, but it isn't necessary, trust me.
- You type in your child's list of spelling words, and the site uses those words to generate these options:
- For public- or private-schooling families: You can use the weekly spelling lists given by your child's teacher with this website. You simply type in the weekly words, and the site teaches the words individually, generates multi-sensory practice games, gives meanings, and tests your child--keeping track of scores and previous lists.
- For homeschooling families: You can use an individualized spelling program offered by the site, or your own word lists. There are many types of lists available, including:
Compound Words
Contractions
Dolch - Sight Words
Geography Lists
Homophones and Homonyms
Literature Based Word Lists
Monthly Holiday Lists
Phonics & Sight Word Curriculum
Popular Word Lists
Possessive Nouns
Sample Lists
Sound Alike Words
Word Abbreviations
SAT words, list 1 & 2
This post probably seems like an ad for the site, but really, it isn't. I came across a reader comment on the Pioneer Woman's Homeschooling site that mentioned Spelling City, so I took the time tonight to peruse the site. So glad I did!
There are many aspects of education that simply cannot be automated, and thank goodness for that! But if spelling and math automation truly helps students excel, I'm all for it. There are still plenty of subjects left that require discussion and cooperative interaction.
If not, here are a few details:
- It's free. For a few more perks, you can join for a modest fee, but it isn't necessary, trust me.
- You type in your child's list of spelling words, and the site uses those words to generate these options:
Spelling Test
Vocab Test
Teach Me
Play a Game
Printable handwriting worksheet using the words
Write a sentence or paragraph using the words
- This site is incredible! You will be both thrilled and amazed at the convenience and the technology. It is multi-sensory, so all learners benefit!
- For public- or private-schooling families: You can use the weekly spelling lists given by your child's teacher with this website. You simply type in the weekly words, and the site teaches the words individually, generates multi-sensory practice games, gives meanings, and tests your child--keeping track of scores and previous lists.
- For homeschooling families: You can use an individualized spelling program offered by the site, or your own word lists. There are many types of lists available, including:
Compound Words
Contractions
Dolch - Sight Words
Geography Lists
Homophones and Homonyms
Literature Based Word Lists
Monthly Holiday Lists
Phonics & Sight Word Curriculum
Popular Word Lists
Possessive Nouns
Sample Lists
Sound Alike Words
Word Abbreviations
SAT words, list 1 & 2
This post probably seems like an ad for the site, but really, it isn't. I came across a reader comment on the Pioneer Woman's Homeschooling site that mentioned Spelling City, so I took the time tonight to peruse the site. So glad I did!
There are many aspects of education that simply cannot be automated, and thank goodness for that! But if spelling and math automation truly helps students excel, I'm all for it. There are still plenty of subjects left that require discussion and cooperative interaction.
jackpot on math, garden beds
Have you heard of the Teaching Textbooks math curriculum? It's ideal for auditory learners, who happen to do very well with lecture. Visual learners benefit as well! I am switching Peter to this! Just what we've needed! Ree Drummond, from The Pioneer Woman, does an excellent review of the program here, with photos.
Also, here is a picture tutorial for a raised garden bed, also from her site.
Also, here is a picture tutorial for a raised garden bed, also from her site.
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