don't be silent; sing His praise

Psalm 30:12 

That my glory may sing your praise and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever!

Sunday Gratitude List:

* little girls in the loveliest feminine dresses for church, complete with white sweater, white tights, and new white flats.  They don't always deck out so, but it makes them so excited when they do! I try to memorize every giggle, every twirling spin, every delicate little-girl feature.

(I read on Simple Mom's blogging tips last week that I'm not supposed to write with exclamation points, unless it's my general style of writing.  Sorry, friends.  I guess it is--at least when it comes to my children.  They excite me!!)

* a freshly mowed lawn

* white-crowned sparrows coming to the feeders and delighting my Peter

* all natural vanilla bean chocolate mint ice cream

* Peter picking tulips and putting them in a vase for Momma

* freshly laundered sheets

* baby soft cheeks to kiss

* a strong husband to hug

* a litter soda bottle over the plexiglass feeder, solving our squirrel problems

* Peter feeding the squirrels dried corn cobs, to keep them happy

* Barilla PLUS multigrain elbow pasta (no mess involved when two year olds eat this with spaghetti sauce, and it takes great.)

* little girls giggling in the tub

* sisters kissing and hugging

* sisters playing with dolls (not an everyday thing around here)

* big boys saying I love you

* I've been collecting skirts for myself from thrift stores for about a year, after growing to hate the jeans, jeans, jeans mother-at-home uniform. I like being a woman! I've worn jeans all this time only because they make mothering easier, and it's cheap to find tops that match.  It has been difficult to find new-looking coordinating tops for my skirt collection, but I've made progress on my last two thrifting trips.  I can now wear skirts at least three times a week, and still comfortably mother and do chores.

I picked out skirts that looked brand new, were machine washable and didn't need ironing.  I wear flat shoes at home, but sometimes change to slightly healed shoes to do errands.  I wear nylons or tights if it's cold, or paint my toes and wear black or brown sandals if it's warm.  I've collected:

- 2 long jean skirts (different styles)

- 1 knee-length jean skirt (I don't wear the knee-length if I'm going some place to sit down, like someone's house or to church, because knee-length skirts aren't very modest once you sit down.  But grocery shopping in it or mothering in it are fine. My husband likes it.

-  2 below-the-knee flowing polyester skirts with black background and lots of pretty flowers (solid black tops or short-sleeved black sweaters coordinate with these, because the flowers provide so much color).  When the weather turns quite humid, I'll abandon all polyester, except for church.

- 1 light-weight cotton broomstick skirt in various shades of green (I finally had to break down and buy a white, short-sleeved sweater top for $7 at Walmart to go with this one.  I couldn't find anything at thrift stores after looking for a year.)

- 1 dressy below-the-knee rayon/spandex/polyester blend skirt in black for church  

* Last night Peter spilled a quart of lemonade all over himself, all over me, the counter, the dishwasher, and the floor, just as I was about to prepare dinner.  It delayed me twenty-five minutes because the clean up was so extensive.  As I was down on the floor cleaning, I noticed that all the appliances needed a good Windexing, the baseboards needed a good wiping, and the inside of the dishwasher needed a good cleaning.  I was immediately downcast about the messiness--wanting to sob really--but then the Holy Spirit put a picture in my head.

I imagined an immaculate home with all deep cleaning caught up--walls, baseboards, appliances, windows, blinds, ceilings--but it was devoid of children, of laughter, of plentiful hugs, of children's books, of children's paintings and drawings.  Suddenly, I stopped wishing I had time for deep cleaning. And I gulped down tears, thanking the Lord for my four wonderful blessings! Shame on me for caring about deep cleaning when abundant blessings--the best kind of blessings--flowed around me.

a soul longing for wholeness

When you get together with your extended family, do you always leave in pain?  Are there bridges you've learned not to cross--words you leave unsaid?  Does your soul ache with a longing for wholeness?

Then this work of grace, this piece of poetry, is just for you.  Don't miss it.  The Lord has given Laura a powerful, poignantly beautiful gift with words.  It is short, so you do have time.

let the fruit began

You'd be surprised what happens when you spend more time with your children.  Really!

Let me clarify.

By spend more time with, I'm not referring to planning fun activities, like baking or painting together--though such things do bless them.  What I really mean is simply going to whatever room your children are in, sitting down, and announcing that you're taking a break from your chores.  Just watch the surprise in their eyes!

What you'll notice is that they'll be blessed by your stillness--especially if you are a task-oriented versus people-oriented person.  They might just sit in your lap, maybe bring you a book to read, or just chat with you, enjoying your undivided attention.  Your undivided attention is key!

It's so easy to think of them as loud and in the way--especially when you're sorrowfully behind or you're focused on adult worries.  But even if you have to set a bell to remember, try to spend chunks of time with them--maybe twenty minutes here and there.  Really focus on it.

I've enjoyed these fruits, quite unexpectedly:

- You hear "I love you, Mommy" more than ever before.

- You learn more about their dreams.

- You delight in what they can do.

- You lighten up--smiling more, laughing more--because they're just so wonderful.


- You hug, kiss and cuddle more than ever.


- While they're in your arms for a cuddle, they whisper, "You make the day better, Mommy."


- You see their love for each other, up close.  (When you're off doing chores all day, you only hear the squabbles.)

- They lighten up--whining less, smiling more.

- You like yourself more.

- You like them more.

- You learn that they're capable people.  They can fold and put away their clothes.  Sweep floors.  Organize toys--thereby freeing up more of your time.  (If yours are still babies, just know what you can look forward to :) They may balk at first, but they want to be a part of the team called family. They just don't know it yet. You've perhaps never given them a taste of what it means for family to be a team.  When everyone cleans or picks up at the same time, it feels wonderful--bonds are strengthened, morale gets a boost.  The we're in this together feeling blesses the socks off everyone!

Remember, you don't have to entertain.  Just walk in and sit down.  They'll be delighted to see you, without a basket of clothes to fold, without a stack of bills to pay, without a bottle of Windex in your hand.

Let the fruit began!

a blackout

Before retiring last night I knew there was a flood warning for our area, going into the early morning.  When the power went out around 5:30 AM, I awoke with a start--noticing immediately the silent, jet black room.  The Hepa-filter fans running in two rooms make low levels roars and without them, the sudden silence was striking.

My nursing toddler barely flinched, continuing her sleepy, half-hearted sucking.  Compared to the howling gusts outside--the strength of which I'd never before experienced--I found her nursing sounds quite soothing.

My first thought?

I wished I'd checked the online weather forecast before retiring, because these winds could easily progress to tornado-like strength?  I'd woken to more earthquakes than I can count in my lifetime--being a Southern California native--but howling winds up to 60 - 70 miles per hour were entirely new, even for a fourteen-year high-desert dweller.

My second thought?

Oh yeah, we don't have a basement! (Something I'm usually happy about--I find that damp smell nauseating.)  Should I wake everyone--including husband who'd just come home from work at 4:00 AM--or assume we're all goners anyway, and try to go back to sleep?

My third thought?

If Peter wakes and notices the blackout and high winds, he'll freak out (tornadoes are one of his worst fears).

My fourth thought?

Oh boy, he's awake!  Here we go.

Peter immediately got a flashlight from the closet in his bedroom, and proceeded to tell both parents, "There's a blackout and we're going to die!"


Momma whispers, trying not to wake the nursing toddler:  "No, Peter. We're not going to die.  It's just a windy storm and the power will come on shortly. They have people working on it.  Quiet down or you'll wake everyone!"


I had folded and sorted clean clothes for Goodwill, relatives, and our drawers until 2:00 AM, eager to get the spring clothing switch done.  I then had insomnia until roughly 2:30 AM, so I'd clocked little sleep.

Peter's paranoia, I knew, wasn't going to calm--we were up for the day, like it or not.

The good news is that the baby went back to sleep for awhile, with Daddy. The bad news is that Peter woke his brother Paul, who is a night person (like the rest of the family minus Peter).  Paul usually rises at 8:00 AM, Mary around 7:35 AM,  Momma and Beth around 7: 45 AM (this late just since daylight savings) and Peter, the lone man out, around 6: 45 AM, most mornings.  Daddy often sleeps until 9:00 AM, depending on his schedule the night before.  This morning he hoped to sleep until 10:30 AM, as Wednesday night is his heaviest work night.

Peter calmed after natural light entered the house, but he and his brother made so much noise, as they roamed the house, watching and reacting to the high winds, that poor Mary was awake far earlier than her body wanted. She then came in for an earlier-than-normal cuddle, waking her little sister.

Momma made do with no electricity, by making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for breakfast, and reading as many picture books as her fatigued body could handle, with the little natural light available during stormy skies.  This calmed the troops for a while, and the power finally came back on around 9: 30 AM--with everything in the fridge and freezer surviving the blackout.

We were a tired bunch today!

Through the Lord's grace we made it through the day, with nary a ripple. And strangely enough, we never got a drop of rain during the night or day, despite the darkened skies.  They changed the flood warning to a high-wind warning.

We got though this unscathed, but so many others did not!

Please pray for this blogger's large family, who lost their home to a tornado on Wednesday? Her story, including that she just had a baby, warrants much prayer.  Her church has set up a tornado fund to help her, as well as her family and church friend, Mrs. Lee--a mother of thirteen, who lost both her husband and her home to the tornado.  

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.