observations and praises

So much to be thankful for!

Monday Gratitude

*  7-year-old Paul teaching 2-year-old Beth how to toss a football between her legs.  (Is that called hiking?)  She couldn't have been more thrilled with the lesson!

*  I just spent a fortune buying rubber boots for two of my children.  Those don't appear in thrift stores very often.  The check-out lady told me why they've gone up so much.  Oil prices!  Anything requiring oil, like rain boots and trash bags, has gone up.  God help us poor people!  The working poor can go from barely making it to losing it, when gas prices go up.  So thankful to be a child of God!  If I weren't, the whole oil thing would scare me considerably.

*  Psst.  Psst.  I have a secret to tell you.  God owns everything--even the oil!  

*  Sitting and watching my Peter do math everyday has been so eye opening.  I get to observe his thought processes; he talks outloud as he does each problem.  I see every reaction, every raised brow.  I know exactly what he's thinking, which has not previously been the case.  I've found that he gets distracted very easily by every extraneous sound in his environment (auditory learner is the reason, I imagine, as well as the ADHD).  We work alone in his bedroom, during Beth's nap, which has meant the end to any down time, midday.  A hard hallelujah there.  Anyhow, now that I'm thoughtfully observing him, and doing little else, I'm shocked by the extent to which he goes off-track.  We had to turn off all unnecessary sounds on the Teaching Textbooks CD ROM program.  Now we just hear the voices of the two brothers who created the program, and the praise voice, telling him "good work" and other such praises, after each problem.  There is always immediate feedback; it too, is distracting, but it helps his mood and self-esteem.  We both like the voices of the two brothers.  Peter smiled one day and commented about the brother who does the lecturing, "He's so nice, isn't he Mommy?"  My Peter is a lot of work to rear, but, Praise God, he is very sweet as well!  He looks at math now as special time with Mommy.  Previously it was often a downer. 

I started him back at the beginning of third grade.  It didn't make sense to spend $120 on a half year of math.  Starting over won't do him any harm.  Now he's getting the whole package delivered in both the auditory and visual mode.  Some holes in his knowledge are already being filled in, and I'm thrilled.  We'll finish this at the end of August, take September off, then start 4th grade math in October.

I do think this work seems too easy for third grade, but that may because the beginning includes review.  An advanced math student wanting to try Teaching Textbooks would probably need to buy one grade-level ahead.

*  When 27-month-old Beth does the hand and body motions for the popular children's song, "My Aunt Came Back", I'm tickled to the point of tears.  It's the cutest thing!  I want to kiss the feet of Jesus and give thanks for my girls, right then and there.   

*  I get the same feelings when I play "Duck, Duck, Goose" or "Ring Around the Rosey" with my four kids.  We all enjoy it, but Miss Beth is ecstatic.  She could do such songs/games until midnight!

*  The weather has been warmer.  Praise God for time outside!  Slowly, the yard is drying out.  Every romp outside still means a load of muddy clothes, but I'm getting used to it.

*  Making pancakes this morning with Paul, Beth and Mary.

*  Daddy home for dinner two days last week.  He also arranged to be home to help me with the bedtime routine one night.  Peter observed that night, "Mommy, you seem more joyful tonight."  I told him that with Daddy's help, all the bedtime tasks were less overwhelming; I felt relaxed.  Please God, take this solo parenting cup from me at night!  I guess I'm poorer at it than I thought--turning into a stress machine many nights.  As the girls get older and can do more for themselves, it will get more relaxing.

*  This one is a hard hallelujah.  I need to be ever thankful for the church workers who give up their Sunday night to work with our children.  We attend Sunday night church because of Husband's schedule.  Praise God that Beth loves it now and doesn't cry.  But, there is this one thing.  I hate it that churches give out candy!  If you've got more than one child attending different classes, this can become a nightmare. How can I expect them to share with siblings, when there isn't enough to go around?  And I cringe when one child complains that they only got Ritz crackers, while the others got candy.  Give the candy fund to the third world, I say!  I listened to my overtired 2-year-old cry during the twenty minute drive home, because she only got two gummi bears from her brothers' small candy bags.  Like I said, church in this regard is a hard hallelujah.  I would much rather do home church with other couples for many reasons--not the least of which is the college-age alternative rock music we get on Sunday nights (LOUD, VERY EDGY!)--but husband is against the homey church feel for now.

*  After taking days off the computer for three weeks, Paul has gotten over his Arcademic Skill Builder obsession.  That's a good thing, because having the computer off a few days contributed to a $20 overdue library bill.  I didn't get online in time to renew some books and kids movies.  Needless to say, we changed library districts; the one we are using now only charges $.05/day fines.  If Paul gets obsessed with something else, I'll come up with another method.

The kids are done with their painting and board games now.  Time to make dinner!  Hopefully there aren't too many errors in this.  Have a good night!

Momma's rocker--instrument of grace

When I brought Peter home from the hospital I was thirty-five years old, but only four years old in the Lord.  I wish I had been more spiritually mature from the outset, but I have to accept God's plan as good, perfect, and wise.

My parenting was performance and result-driven at first.  I still delighted in my little ones, but I had it in my mind that if I was firm and consistent, I could turn out "good kids".  If I used the right formula, I'd get the expected result.

Soon, I realized that my children were no different than me; they were subject to moods and emotions they couldn't always articulate.  They were sometimes overstimulated, or too tired, or too restless, or too discouraged.

As the Lord's chiselling matured me and my vision, I began to focus on their hearts.  I was interested in their right-now feelings and thought patterns.  I learned that I had to pour myself into them selflessly.  That was the only formula that worked.

I'm softer now, nine years into it; grace drives me and impresses me, not performance.

My instrument of grace is a living-room rocking chair--the big, plush, easy-chair type. When undesirable behaviour signals that someone needs an outpouring of love, I drop everything and say it's rocking time--even turning off the burners on the stove and letting dinner wait.  I cuddle, plant kisses, and rock, telling them how precious they are to me, and to Jesus.  I confess anything I've done wrong in the previous hours, in order to open both our hearts.  (I do this at the first sign of trouble, before my patience dwindles).

As we rock, I listen.  I learn their hearts, pray, and speak life into them.  And then we sing a little and laugh together.

Soon, others join, each getting their turn.

I delight in this, even when the migraine is pounding and my heart is discouraged.

Afterwards, we are healed.  I've learned that when trouble brews, it's usually a we problem, not a single person problem.

So, tell me, what is your instrument of grace?   

Is it grace or works?

I love Christian blogs.  More importantly, I need them.  With no second car and a husband outside the home 67 hours a week (partly commuting hours), I am isolated.  Blog reading and writing make me feel connected.

But, there's a caveat.  Have you noticed that Christian blog hopping can make your head spin?

One minute you're reading about should-dos, like spending your time wisely and blessing your kids with your presence, and acting se*y to bless your husband, and the next you're reading about how it's all grace, all the time.

So which is it?  Works or grace?

You probably think I'm going to say it's both, right?  Because faith without works is dead?

James 2:14-18 (source here)
What does it profit, my brethren, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can faith save him? If a brother or sister is naked and destitute of daily food, and one of you says to them, “Depart in peace, be warmed and filled,” but you do not give them the things which are needed for the body, what does it profit? Thus also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead. But someone will say, “You have faith, and I have works.” Show me your faith without your works, and I will show you my faith by my works.

Well, yes, faith and works go hand in hand.

But I've noticed something in my fourteen years as a Christian.

It all depends on where you're at.  God always meets you where you're at.  He never overburdens.  

Are you battling something big, like a cancer diagnosis, a job loss, a miscarriage or infertility?  The loss of a child, spouse, or extended family member?  Do you have full care of a special-needs child or adult?  Did you just become a Christian?  Did you just find out your husband is cheating?  Do you have a hormonal imbalance?  Did you just move across the country?  Are you depressed?  Did you just have a baby?  Is your husband abusive?  An alcoholic?  Is your husband away and you're parenting solo?  Are you a single mom...or a very young mom?  Are you isolated?  Do you deal with chronic pain or insomnia?

The Lord knows what's on your plate.  He put it there, or at the very least, he hasn't taken it away.

So the answer is, cling to Jesus.  You'll find your way, through Him.

Your Worth, Momma

Favourite quote from devotional time:

God never wastes parents.  He doesn't inadvertently "dump" kids haphazardly into homes.  Nor does He deliver "accidents" into our lives.  It is exceedingly important that families place the same significance on children that God does...It is axiomatic.  Healthy, well-disciplined, loving homes produce people who make a nation peaceful and strong.  As the family goes, so goes the nation.  When you boil it down to the basics, the pulse of an entire civilization is determined by the heartbeat of its homes.

Taken from WISDOM for the way, Charles Swindoll, 2001, p196

My contributing thoughts:  Think you aren't significant, Momma?  Think again.  You were uniquely chosen, whether you gave birth, or whether you lovingly welcomed a child into your home.  You were chosen.  


"The pulse of an entire civilization is determined by the heartbeat of its homes."

What makes the "heartbeat" life-giving?

Do you think you're failing because you can't stop yelling about the shoes and coats and toys not put away?  Or because the clutter you can't stay on top of steals the peace you've worked so hard to steady?

Think again.  It isn't unfailing patience that makes you useful to God.  It is your desire for Him, your hunger for Him, that gives your children sustenance.  Let them see you sing to the Lord, pray to the Lord, repent before the Lord, rejoice in the Lord.

Yes, repent in front of them. Don't keep this part of your life a secret.  Let them see the joy that comes from releasing your guilt, your sin burden.  Let them see your joyful, forgiven self, not your perfect self.

Holding on to sin through guilt or depression--over failing yet again--further steals our peace.  It's the worst thing we can do.  Release it as fast as you can, as though it were poison.  It is poison.  The longer you keep the guilt, the more power you give the enemy.

Our children aren't going to stop sinning.  Sometimes we get fixated on their sinfulness, even more so than our own.  Discipline as appropriate, but also show them what to do with their failures.  Show them how to sit at the foot of the Cross, trading shame for joy.  Stop what you're doing and show them, right then.

There's nothing more important than leading them to the foot of the cross, over and over again.

When you give them that, you give them life.

It doesn't matter what they become, so long as they do it for the Lord.  Your worth as a parent isn't measured by how successful the world deems your children, though it's easy to fall prey to that thinking.

Your worth comes from this:

Did you give them life?

Praises!

So much to be thankful for!

Wednesday Gratitude

- Praises for the Word of God!  Several in the dentist office were intrigued by the book I had in my hand--Ann Voskamp's.  So powerful, so personal and beautiful.  I'm simply amazed that Ann found the time to create such wonder, while still mothering and teaching her brood of six, and caring for her home and living off the land.  I don't have that many hours in my day! God surely wrote that book through her.  He wanted it written.  I suspect Ann is getting her share of persecution, as is often the case when so powerful a God-themed book hits the bestseller list.  About 2 weeks ago a Google search hit my blog, with the words "Ann Voskamp dangerous".  I found that chilling.  I've no idea why my blog would come up in such a search.  I'm certain I've never used Ann's name along with the word dangerous.  Anyhow, praise God for the impact Ann's words have made.  Everywhere I take that book, people stare.

- Praises that Miss Beth also uses /f/.  I had forgotten until tonight that when we count in the bathtub, she says, "un, two, fe, fo, fi, eigh, te (one, two, three, four, five, eight, ten).  Did you get that?  :)  Thank you for my little girl--so full of life and joy, Dear God!

- The Bronze Bow, by Elizabeth George Speare.  This book has me on the edge of my seat.  It's fabulous! Very action packed, and for the first time I really understand why the disciples and the Jews wanted Jesus to defeat the Roman rule and establish a free Israel.  This book helps you understand--as though you were there--the politics of Jesus' day.  I find this author amazing.

- Praise God that Peter's leadership skills are becoming more mature.  He leads Paul and Mary as they clean the playroom--demonstrating organizational skills as well.  Being paid a little for the job really helps him apply himself.  He keeps coming up with better ways to organize their things, so that clean up is faster.  And no more shoddy work, such as things crammed in the corners.  He really cares.

- I still have to sit with Peter while he does math with the new program, Teaching Textbooks.  However, I don't have to prepare anything.  Praise God that something has gotten easier!  I just observe and have him stop when he needs more explanation.  I take out paper and pencil and manipulatives, if necessary, and teach a little here and there. Paul does it independently and loves it.

- Praise God for preschool songs and rhymes.  Miss Beth loves any song or rhyme that involves hand motions.  She gets so involved and is just as happy as a lark when we're doing the motions together.  Thank you, Father, for her exuberance!  She doesn't have much patience for playing on the floor, which, come to think of it, is probably why we haven't done it much in the past.  She is still so active, flitting here and there, just exploring and enjoying life.  She can say more than she lets on.  For example, today we were playing with the Barney stuffed animal, and I noticed she said "Bar" instead of "Bar-ney".  I clapped the syllables and was able to get her to add the second syllable.  Could she just be lazy, verbally speaking?  No incentive?  I need to require more of her, while still being cheerful and light about it.

- Praise God for new perspective on my sons.  Paul is very bright and struggles with pride; everything is very easy for him, compared to his siblings.  I noticed that he gloats a lot, though very subtlely, about having better scores on spelling, etc., than Peter.  They use the same materials.  I took Paul aside and explained that we must give God the glory for everything--even our spelling--rather than taking that glory for ourselves.  Every single thing is a gift.  He took this hard, as he does any correction.  I really appreciate the contrast this week, in ways I couldn't before.  Those given much struggle with pride--thinking they've made themselves.  Those with nothing remarkable, in terms of talents, cling to God out of necessity. Who has the better hand in life? The one who is first or the one who is last?  I have both in this house.  The one side has more earthly comfort, the other more passionate faith.  How can those who rarely fail, like my Paul, not believe in themselves so strongly?  The temptation to do so is great.  I see my mission as Paul's mother more clearly now.  He needs me to be proud of him, yes, but at the same time, I need to set his gaze toward his Gifter, and encourage a humble heart of thanksgiving.

- Peter said while they were cleaning their playroom, "Praise God that we have so many toys.  Others have none!"  I said that I loved his attitude of gratitude!  He was very happy to hear me say this, after hearing plenty from me about his complaining ways.  Has a seed been planted?  May it sprout and flourish, Dear God!

- My husband's steadfast love

- My Mary suddenly getting all the words exactly right for every song we've ever sung together.  She belts them out now, whereas even last fall she left out words, phrases, and lines, from various songs.  She reminds me more and more of a sweet little kindergärtner, with her precious paintings, her rhymes, her songs, her letter sounds.  It's so fun!

- Giggling at the dinner table with my four kids, over a squirrel's frantic antics and amazing tail talk.

- More fun at the dinner table tonight.  I identified a bird for Paul--a mourning dove, far away in a neighbour's tree.

Mary says, incredulous, "You know what a mourning dove looks like?"

Daddy is usually the walking bird book around here, not Mommy.  Although, being married to my husband has made a bird lover out of me.  I can identify my fair share now.

I said to Mary, in a kidding voice "Why, yes!  Can you even believe how smart I am?  It's amazing the things that come out of my mouth, isn't it?" I'm no comedian, but Paul laughed hard at this, shooting his milk across the table.  Fun times, minus the mess!

Happy St. Patrick's Day!