no to my flesh, yes to my children

God is patient with me.  He shows me something new about mothering, and then keeps whispering it.  Sometimes I continue on for weeks, business as usual, as though deaf.  But He doesn't give up on me, and for that, I'm so grateful.

He showed me some time ago that what kind of mother I am--whether selfless or selfish--is dependent on little decisions I make all day long.

I am task-oriented, not people-oriented, as I've stated before.  It's my greatest weakness as a mother.  But by God's grace, I am changing.

My children need me.  My body for nursing and cuddling and kissing.  My ear for listening.  My smile for encouraging.  My patience for teaching.  My heart for extending grace.

Now, I say yes to the toddler who wants to go outside and ride her tricycle.  I take her out to the driveway and follow her around on her bike, keeping her out of the street.

If the dryer buzzes for the second time, and my seven-year-old Paul comes to me, miserable, with swollen eyes from his spring allergies, I stop everything and hold him close on the couch, praying that God will take away the itch--providing my suffering Paul some grace through my love and attention.

If my Peter is hounding me with bird talk, following me around, I say yes to him.  I sit on the couch, telling him I have time now, to listen.  Tell me about your bird dreams, Son.

If Mary comes to my bed to cuddle, right at the time my stomach rumbles for food, I say yes.  Ten minutes in Momma's loving arms blesses her so. She loves to start her day this way, and is crushed when it can't be.

A selfless mother says yes, more often than no. She makes little decisions all day long that bless her children--at the expense of feeding her own flesh.

What ways do we feed our own flesh, as mothers?  What keeps us from saying yes to our kids--to their legitimate needs for attention and stimulation?  What seems more important than nurturing their hearts?

Well, for one thing, the state of our home. We want it tidy enough to avoid being shamed, lest someone come unannounced.  And we want the personal peace that absence of clutter brings.

People have come here unannounced--seeing untidiness in my home. And yes, they did judge--I saw it in their eyes.  And for a long time after that, I put my children off regularly, while I sought the approval of others.

I worked on deeds that were seen, versus unseen.

Rocking a fussy toddler is unseen.  A clean kitchen after breakfast is seen.

Reading the Bible to children is unseen.  Dishes done immediately after lunch is seen.

Listening to an enthusiastic bird watcher is unseen.  A tidy bathroom is seen.

Corporate prayer with one's children is unseen.  A vacuumed carpet is seen.

Cuddling with a miserable allergy sufferer is unseen.  Folded laundry is seen.

Reading stories to the preschooler is unseen.  A swept floor is seen.

Yes, we need to avoid filth, but untidiness and clutter go with the young-children-at-home territory.  By embracing this fact, we free ourselves to bless our children--who are in our midst just a short time.

Another way we feed our flesh, as mothers, is to indulge our interests and hobbies, without restraint.  Being a stay-at-home mother is hard, thankless work. Consequently, almost all of us develop an escape mechanism, of some type--scrapbooking, checking e-mail, talking on the phone, social networking, etc.  Having such an outlet is valuable, but doing it in moderation is imperative.

It was months ago that God pointed it out to me--a selfless mother says yes, more often than no.

Nowadays, the Holy Spirit speaks to me daily on this.  And I listen.  There's still plenty of growth needed, but I'm learning to say no to my flesh, and yes to my children.

Even in Tragedy, God is Good

I don't foresee having any writing time today.  The spring clothing switch is beating me up!  With someone to entertain the precious two-year-old in my midst, I'm sure I'd make quick work of it.  But alas, Miss Beth wants her Momma the most when Momma is at her busiest.

Yesterday I did make time to catch a blog post.  Dana, from Roscommon Acres--who lost her toddler son when a heavy dresser crushed him--wrote a short post entitled, "Is God Good?".  I think her words will bless you today!  I pasted them below, in red. Please visit her at her blog:  Roscommon Acres

A recent comment, words of encouragement.
“You will again call God good.”

Pause for reflection.

I’ve cried out in anguish with a sorrow so deep there were not words to attach to the prayer. I’ve cried out in anger over sliced hot dogs, snipped drawstrings and safety fences that in the end were not enough to spare my little boy from a terrible accident.  I’ve wrestled with why. Why? Why isn’t my little boy here, asleep in his little bed with his bottom in the air and a car tucked under his arm?

But did I ever stop calling God good?

I think of recent conversations, Facebook statuses and Twitter updates with others extolling the virtues of God.

“Car needs over a thousand dollars worth of work. Didn’t know how we were going to afford it. Then we did our taxes and the money we’re getting back covers it almost exactly.Isn’t God amazing?“

“Had lots of errands. Forgot to fill the tank. Low fuel light came on as we came into a part of town where I did not want to stop. Ran out of gas, coasted down a hill, into a gas station and right to the pump.Isn’t God faithful?”

“Hubby got the job! After over a year, our savings held out and he got the job!Isn’t God good?”

Pause for reflection.

What about when things don’t turn out so well?

As I knelt on the floor, the weight of a dresser on my back, trying to keep my son’s head and neck straight as I rolled him to his side so he wouldn’t aspirate on his own vomit . . .
{Was God amazing?}

As I stood shaking in the ER, wanting to be with him (needing to be with him), terrified of being in the way as I heard them trying over and over and over to get him intubated . . .
{Was God faithful?}

And, only minutes after a nurse had told us he would be in room 201, went over the use of the respite rooms, admonished us to be strong for him, as the surgeon came in and told us he couldn’t save our son . . .
{Was God good?}

It isn’t really something we post to Facebook quite like that, but even in tragedy, God is amazing. He is faithful. He is good. Because His character is not dependent on my circumstances. He has done many wonderful things in my life, but His character is not revealed through my wealth nor through my safety nor through my comfort.

His character is revealed through the cross.

And as I think of my son crushed, his skull broken, his form lifeless, I can think of only one thing.

Our Father did it willingly. For me. For you. For the world He loved so much He gave His only begotten son.

Happy Easter.

Stay-at-Home Moms; Enduring Without Accolades

What a world we live in!

You've heard plenty of people brag on the niece, daughter or granddaughter who got a degree and made it big in the work world, as though it were the highest form of accomplishment.  But when was the last time you heard someone brag on the stay-at-home mother, for nurturing and grounding the next generation in the ways of the Lord?

Sally Clarkson didn't grow up in a grounded Christian home.  She struggled in her early years as she raised her four children--three of whom suffered from OCD, and another who suffered with ADHD and OCD and other issues. There are times she felt so isolated and alone!  As Christians, it's easy to feel this way.  We encounter so few people who can grasp or accept our worldview.

I have little time to write lately, but I wanted to share something encouraging today from Sally's blog. She won't mind if I paste it here in its entirety, for I've seen her do this with her friends' blog posts.  I know few people have time to click on links.  You'll definitely want to read this!  Visit her blog for wisdom and huge doses of encouragement:  I Take Joy.  Here are her words below, from her post Lost in the Storms of Life;

Lately, I have been reading a popular book that challenges believers to really invest their lives in great causes and in foreign missions and to make a difference in the world.
But, it has stimulated a different line of thinking in me, totally opposite of what I have been reading.

Western Christianity seems to point us to doing a great deed, making a great sacrifice or performing something great in the public eye. Perhaps it is one way of serving. But I believe in my heart that it is the quiet deeds of faith, the steadfast heart, the humble service over the years of a lifetime that is really pleasing to our Jesus, who Himself said He was humble and meek and to learn from Him. Most will serve Him, in the unobserved moment by moment willingness to bear the burdens of life in a fallen world, perhaps never receiving accolades from the public arena. Yet, God, who sees in secret, will indeed see their deeds of loving faithfulness when no one else is looking.

He sees us. He loves us and measures each tiny faithful decision in his hands as an act glorifying Him in our short time on this earth. These little acts of love and faith make up the whole sacrifice of our life that becomes an offering to Him.

Yet, I think that my life has been made up of thousands of little moments, seemingly insignificant to the public eye. Changing one more diaper. Listening to the heart’s cry of one more teenager. Encouraging Clay through one more year of financial crisis. Living through one more season of faith when my life has felt overwhelming.

Have you ever felt like the woman in this print? (She is referring here to a photo she posted with her words). Seems I have often felt so very overwhelmed in this journey of my life. Feelings of isolation and loneliness have been aching companions at different times–feeling that I don’t fit with many people. Feeling lost in the storms of life.

Other times, the burdens of all of my children and trying to keep them afloat while feeling that the weight of their lives was drowning me–illnesses, personalities and disorders, meeting their needs, answering their spiritual demands, bearing with them through very difficult seasons (sleepless nights of babyhood; mysterious years of toddlerhood–when to discipline, when not, all the trials and joys of elementary, teenage storms, and young adult decisions and pressures). Sometimes, it just feels like it never ends.

Family issues, church issues and people, work load, and just plain exhaustion. Prayers unanswered, and so much more.
Sometimes the years of my life and my high ideals have demanded so much of me, I felt that I should not write about my ideals, because I did not want anyone else to experience all of the hard realities and difficulties I have had to live through. (Can I really suggest to women this course of life when I know it is so very difficult to sustain? It is long and arduous? The demands can seem sometimes never ending?)

Perhaps I am just more of a wimp than most moms, and was less prepared and had a weaker character than most moms and that is why I have struggled so at times.

Yet, somewhere, deep inside, God gave me a tenaciousness to keep going–through the storms, to keep trusting Him, to keep believing Him, that He is good, even when I don’t feel His presence.

I am so very thankful He kept me going. My marriage is still intact and growing. My children, at this moment, still love the Lord and us and are all growing, (but always with issues), and I have a legacy of looking back and seeing that He was working which gives me the hope to believe that He is still working.

Lately, I have been feeling the new burden of storms in my life and the weight of so much responsibility. It is always a temptation to give up or to despair when we are in darkness of some kind. Yet, believing in the midst of the darkness and choosing to worship and to love Him and praise Him, by our wills and not our feelings may be the biggest treasure in heaven that we will give to Him–faithfulness when no one is watching; faith in Him when it seems He has disappeared. Faithfulness to serve one more child, who is too immature to appreciate your sacrifice. Making one more meal and washing one more set of dishes to a family who seems always to be hungry and always depending on you for everything.

Integrity in these seemingly insignificant moments will become the measure of integrity over a life-time, and will build a picture of faithfulness for all to see when they go through their own hard times. “Oh, I remember mom kept going. She kept loving. She kept believing. I guess I can, too. Her story is my foundation for encouragement.”

And so today, as I recognize the many seemingly too heavy a burden that loved ones and friends are sharing, I pray that they, and I, will remember that this day, is one day closer to His coming again. This spirit of overcoming and enduring which bubbles up in our hearts from the Holy Spirit living there, becomes a song of praise in heaven where angels are cheering us on.
Jesus said, “In this world, you will have tribulation.” But He admonished his loved ones, “But take courage. I have overcome the world.”

And so, may we cherish anew, the  message of our resurrection Lord, that we celebrated yesterday and remember His power to overcome any force.   Moment by moment, day by day, let us take hold of our hearts’ attitudes that will give us  hope, strength, courage and faith to proclaim His reality this day. May we  know that as a good Father who cherishes and encourages His beloved children, He will one day say, “Well done. Well done, my beloved child.”

So, it is not  just accomplishing grand feats of sacrifice one time or accomplishing something great in the world’s eyes, that will bring ultimate glory to this world of ours.
But it is the faithful, serving and pouring out ourselves into  those in our daily lives, where hearts will be changed and characters will be formed, to bring His righteousness to bear in our world. No deed of faith or love is too small. It adds up to a life well-lived and pleasing in his site.

Monday Thoughts and Blessings

Monday Thoughts and Gratitude:

- He is risen!  Hallelujah!

- Size 7 toddler feet to kiss.  Miss Beth will be tall, like my Peter.  Her feet are nearly as big as her sister's--who has twenty-four months on her.

- Easter chocolate crosses on sale for half off today.

- The rain continues.  Finally, some news source mentioned that Ohio is getting record rain. Yes, indeed.  I'm glad we have legitimate reason for our rainy-day blues around here--we've all succumbed.  The blessing is that more green pops up in the landscape every day!

- I decided that holidays shouldn't be all work for the parents (Mom specifically), and all play for the kiddos. I put mine to work for the first hour after church, while I cooked.  They cleaned the playroom, made their beds, folded their pajamas (no, not well, but who cares?), and their socks/underwear, and swept the floor--all for free because it was Resurrection Sunday.  Busy kids behave!

- We kept Curious George Goes Green for three weeks.  I renewed it twice, successfully, and returned it on time!  No library fees.  Yeah!  That cute little George though, whom I adore, convinced my children that we have to make some compost in our backyard.  They tell me we mustn't put meat or dairy in the compost, because George did that and it makes your compost stinky.  Wish me luck on this compost thing.  We haven't had cable for about seventeen months and I don't even know if Curious George is still on. George used to entice my boys into crazy schemes, like making a miniature golf course in the playroom, utilizing all sorts of stuff from our closets, which ultimately, I had to put away.  But I still love that little monkey!

-  Today Mary picked out a Dora video called World Adventure.  I folded laundry while she watched it and I noticed right away that, lo and behold, Dora got a new outfit!  Whose idea was it to put that child in a two-sizes- too-small, pink and orange ensemble?  Mary commented gleefully, when the next episode came on: "Dora is wearing very pretty things now!"  I know it's easier to make cartoons when the characters wear only one outfit (less drawing and frame switching involved).  But, I'm sure I'm not the only mom in America who wished a new outfit for Caillou's mother.  I loved that show, even though the patience displayed by the mother and father went beyond saint-like.  Every child watching probably wished their own parents could be like Caillou's.

- Easter day was a blessed day!  Having the bunny, chocolate, and egg thing the weekend before worked like a charm.  It was all a distant memory by Easter, and my children behaved well, focusing on the blessing of Resurrection Sunday.  We enjoyed a nice church service at 9:00 AM, then prepared and enjoyed a nice dinner at 2:00 PM.  Daddy went to work from 4:00 PM to 9:30 PM, which wasn't too bad.  I read the entire Easter story from the Bible with the boys later, starting from Palm Sunday and going through to the appearances after Jesus' resurrection.  They were blessed by hearing it all again in one sitting.  Paul munched his popcorn the whole time, while Peter interrupted a gazillion times with unnecessary questions.  Sometimes I wish that boy loved popcorn as much as his brother (smile).

- My children and I are enthralled with this eagle's nest (use a full screen once you click on the video).  Watching the mother and father attend to the three babies is fascinating.  Their love and devotion and patience is amazing!  I see God in the whole thing!

- We found a feeder the squirrels can't invade!  (The score now is squirrels = 3, humans = 1)  An hour after we put it up and filled it, we saw a squirrel feeding on the ground underneath it.  He got up on his hind legs and stood tall, checking out the feeder.  I half expected him to jump onto it right then and there.  I could have sworn I heard him say, "Hee, Hee.  The humans put up another feeder!  Yippee!"  He then proceeded to scurry up the tree and make his way out onto the branch, only to find the feeder had a small dome top--way too small to accommodate a squirrel's body (it's a tube feeder).  He settled for hanging by his hind feet and eating from a peanut-butter pinecone instead.  I foresee him hanging by his hind feet on the branch next to the one the new feeder is on, then swinging himself back and forth to get at the seed.  We shall see.  The rest of the family think we've won.

However, the goldfinch don't seem to like the tube feeder as well as the plexiglass, so have we really won?  Daddy thinks if we somehow fasten a liter soda bottle over the top of the plexiglass feeder, the squirrels won't be able to get on. We saw this contraption in this neighbourhood somewhere, wondering what it was at the time.

I think we need Curious George's help over here!

Love to you, friends!

Profound Easter Thoughts

Sally Clarkson's two daughters, Sarah and Joy, were in an Easter play which ran for nine consecutive days.  Sarah Clarkson, a phenomenal writer, details on her blog, Thoroughly Alive, what witnessing the Jesus story nine times in a row did to her soul.  Please visit her blog and read the whole wonderful post.

Below you'll find a beautiful excerpt from Sarah's post.  Enjoy, and Happy Resurrection Day!

There is a moment in the play that moved me strangely each time I saw it, a moment during the brutal whipping of Christ in which his hands slip from the whipping-post chains, he falls to the ground, the action abruptly suspends and the voice of Satan is heard as it might have whispered to Jesus in that agonizing moment. Give it up Jesus. You can still escape. You can avoid crucifixion. Just go now, it’s your choice. But Jesus rises even in the torture of his pain, face twisted in grief, back already scarred, and of his own will, puts his hands back in the straps. He grips the whipping post and gives his life, free-willed, to the people who are lost in darkness all around him.

Watching that scene the last night, there came into my head a thought that explained the fascination of this tale: this is our story. Of all the lives ever lived, the stories ever written, this is the one true tale. Every one of us hunched in the back-stage shadows or crunched in the auditorium seats must confront the love and life of this one man because it will determine the end, the fullness of our own story. In Jesus, the story of every person on earth finds its conclusion. The Gospel tale is never neutral, Jesus is never simply another hero. To each living soul, in every portrayal of the Gospel, the one epic story of the world is revealed. This is the draw of Jesus, the reason we cannot turn away.

But then came another thought. This is my story.The tale of this Jesus, this Lover, is the story of the one whose personal love for me tore open the heavens, brought God to my side determined on rescuing my broken heart, my marred spirit hungering for life. He yielded to death, he bore unspeakable pain so that I would not be left in the darkness. This is not some vague epic, or world myth or yet one more hour of overblown entertainment. The story of the death and life of Jesus defines every moment of my existence because he loves me as no one else ever can.