Thankful Thursday (yes, I'm late)

“You say grace before meals. All right. But I say grace before the concert and the opera, and grace before the play and pantomime, and grace before I open a book, and grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing and grace before I dip the pen in the ink.” — G. K. Chesterton

“Thou that has given so much to me,
Give one thing more–a grateful heart;
Not thankful when it pleaseth me,
As if thy blessings had spare days;
But such a heart, whose pulse may be
Thy praise.”– George Herbert

Dear Lord, thank you for these graces:

~ My Paul receiving piano lessons from a very nice 13-year-old Christian boy. We pay him in homemade cookies and we've offered teen-sitting. Twice a week this summer he spends the day at the church while his mother (the church secretary) works. The church allows the use of their piano, thank the Lord. My husband works at this same church as a custodian. 

I know it's legal to let teens stay alone, but it's an extremely bad idea for even the most responsible, spiritual teens. Phones and the Internet are real dangers, to start with. We haven't had cable for three years now and don't get a signal, but I remember enough to know that it, too, isn't something you want a teen using unsupervised. Cable's a spiritual danger for younger kids, too, unless the TV cabinet is locked or the cable unhooked when direct, in-the-room supervision isn't possible. Flipping channels brings the filth of the world right before your child's curious eyes. 

~ Now that Beth's arthritis is under control I'm open to babysitting for ages 3+ and praying for opportunities either paid or not...whatever the Lord puts together. 


~ What Shall We Do, Blue Kangaroo? encourages young children to entertain themselves and take on new responsibilities, instead of always relying on adults. Sweet, innocent, heartwarming and the artwork is colorful, cheerful, gorgeous. Loved it! (Author Emma Chichester Clark)




~ When You Visit Grandma & Grandpa features a big sister describing to her toddler brother, what it's like to visit Grandma and Grandpa in each season of the year. A superb read-aloud and great for teaching and reinforcing the seasons! (Author Anne Bowen)



~ We made cookies to bring to our neighbor boy, Landon, and his grandmother, but they apparently left for vacation before we could get over there. Paul's piano lesson came so soon this week, I was grateful for the freshly baked cookies to give to the teen piano teacher! Either way, they blessed someone.

~ The children and I worked hard to get the house in shape yesterday so that at anytime, children can come here and be ministered to. They liked the idea a lot and helped with good attitudes (thank you, Jesus, because I couldn't have done it otherwise). Today we are doing frequent "five-minute pick-ups" to keep it in shape. My part is to keep the kitchen counter clear and keep the laundry folded and put away so it doesn't collect anywhere. Pray the best for us in this discipline, as it would be necessary if we do babysit anyone? Orderliness and cleanliness would be on most parents' minds when choosing a babysitter. Without a garage or basement to store things, we have to be extra organized to present ourselves well. 

~ After complimenting my girls this morning, I joked to the boys: "Do you boys know the secret to a happy marriage?"

"No. What is it?", they asked.

"Each morning, no matter what she looks like, let the first thing you say to your wife be this: '"Good morning, beautiful!"'

Peter smiled and added, "And then you should kiss her, too." I can't wait to tell my husband about this tonight. So sweet and smart, that Peter...even if he does add to my white hair daily.

~ Our central air conditioning quit working about 6:00 o'clock last night. It's been in the high 90's for several days so we had an 80 degree, humid house to sleep in last night. Early this morning before work husband went to Walmart and bought a new filter for the air conditioner. Working like a charm today, thank the Lord! I love that man! A dirty filter and grass and debris located too close to the unit are the main problems to check for when your air goes out in the summer. Change the filter once a month during high usage. (Thank you, Google, for this information.)

~ Teaching all the valuable verses from the Book of James. So much treasure there. Read the same chapter for three or four nights, and then work on the key verses from that chapter, before moving on. Put the verses on index cards to practice at breakfast.

~ Family movie night with pizza and the talking-pig movie, Babe. Forgive us, we love talking pig movies...especially those purchased at the thrift store for $1. My favorite part of the movie? When the farmer dances a jig in his living room, to cheer up Babe the pig. So sweet and cheer-worthy! (Yes, it's better than Gordy the Pig).

~ My girls taking turns on my lap during the movie. So nice to relax and snuggle and giggle together...without the chores needing my attention too.

~ Children beating the heat advisory with Legos. When your children stop playing with their Legos (or any other toy you've invested a lot of money in) hide it under a bed for six weeks. When you bring them out your children will treat them like a brand new toy...and you'll feel like your money wasn't wasted! I've heard this tip many times but I don't always remember to implement it. It's especially helpful for homeschooling mothers with babies, toddlers, and preschoolers around.

It's been at least 5 months since she cut her own bangs right down to the scalp. Taking forever to grow back entirely...it was a spotty job!

It is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord,
and to sing praises unto thy name, O most high:
To shew forth thy lovingkindness in the morning,
and thy faithfulness every night Psalm 92.1-2

The Best Kind of Independence

"Mommy", she asks, touching my cheek, "Why are you sad?"

Beth's intuition? It proves I'm no actress.

I start the day smiling and I pretend to be engaged, but she looks right through and sees my heart.

"Mommy isn't sad", I say with a kiss.

But emotionally weary? Yes.

A phone call heralds prayed-for news. Beth's white blood cell count down to 18,000 from a high of 24,000. A sigh of relief escapes me, but I still have husband's incarcerated inguinal hernia hanging over me. I want to feel celebratory about her improving condition. Who wouldn't celebrate this news: no more worrying about leukemia or tumors?

But there's no will to celebrate, so heavy my weariness.

I'm not the only person who experiences one crisis after another. And I know the spirit benefits from intensity. Few things drive us into His arms faster, than a heart revved with what-ifs.

The last few wedding anniversaries--July 3rd--we remembered too late to celebrate. Who does that? Both spouses forgetting an anniversary? It speaks of intense circumstance.

Beth's first day of pool therapy at the hospital, the calendar tells me. Her first time in a pool. Though it promises to be joy-filled, I dread it.

I dread the rush to get everyone fed, dressed, faces wiped, hair combed, socks and shoes on...so we can load into the van at 9:15 AM.

I dread the ride to the hospital and the 50 times my OCD child will need me to say, "No, the elevators won't get stuck."

I dread waiting with three jealous children, forced to watch their little sister have fun in the water with engaging toys. We need the boys' swimming lessons money for surgery. I have no heart to tell them yet...that the doctor and anesthesiologist, together, will probably need $1800.

No other child wants arthritis here, but they all want physical therapy.

"I'm sorry, Lord", I pray during the drive. "I'm sorry for my lack of gratitude and for my weariness. Turn my heart toward you today, Lord. Change me into a joy-filled vessel of thanksgiving, at your service." 

And a few hours later, He delivers me. Through ministry. Didn't God say the greatest commandments were to love Him and each other? When we obey our troubles don't melt away, but our self-involvement does. And isn't self-involvement the greatest joy killer? We are called to love, not fret. We can never know all God's plans and fretting arises from a desire to be in charge.

Loving keeps us busy and as we love, He continues to fill.

Soon after arriving home, Lexie, our new neighborhood friend, comes to the door. "Can I come in and play and stay for dinner today?", she pleads. 

My weary heart wants to say no, but out of my mouth comes this: "Well, Honey, dinner is still hours away.  But, sure, you can stay if your mom approves."

"Oh, she never cares."

It's not my cooking skills, I know that. Lexie just loves to eat and wants to feel part of an intact family...and the prayer time intrigues her.

"Hi, everyone", she greets my children. The older three she finds sprawled by their Lincoln Logs with two structures in the works.

"Lexie!", my girls exclaim. 

"We thought you were grounded for the rest of the year?", Peter inquires.

"Oh, I begged my mom and she let me off. I don't really like Lincoln Logs. Can we put them away and get out the Playdoh? I'll get it while you guys put these away."

My children stare at me as she goes into the dining room after the Playdoh toys, which she loves but Peter and Paul have outgrown. Do they think I should object to her pushiness?

I say nothing.

Peter, learning little by little how to handle such a friend, tells her, "Lexie, we'll play Playdoh for twenty minutes, but then you have to play Lincoln Logs with us. Okay?"

"Okay", she lies.

I try not to notice her legs, filthy and cut all over. The epitome of a tomboy, but also someone whose ADHD brings self-inflicted wounds. The ADHD brain requires constant stimulation, sometimes giving rise to extreme behaviors.

I try not to look shocked when she tells me they are back living with the mother's volatile boyfriend. There's nothing to do at his house so they come to their grandma's a lot. This explains her intermittent visits lately.

Much of what she says is a stretch or a downright lie but I've learned a secret. Whatever the topic, if the story never changes, then it's true. The volatile boyfriend thing remains constant each visit.

Today she tells us a cut on her knee bleed for an hour and she almost died from blood loss. Fifteen minutes later she retold the story, claiming it bleed for two hours.

"But Mom", Peter doubts. "Wouldn't she have died?" I nod quietly to Peter and motion to pray for her. 

Used to my signs, he nods.

Later he tells me Lexie should watch the Veggie Tale movie about lying. He likes her company but feels it's his duty to tell her she can't say "Holy crap" or "Oh, my God" around here. I initially gave him permission to ask her not to use these expressions here, since we didn't want the girls copying her.

But I never expected him to really hold her accountable like this--gently, but consistently.

She didn't know there was anything wrong with these words, she tells me today after saying "Holy crap" a third time and hearing from Peter.

"I understand", I say. "It's hard to get out of the habit when you probably hear them frequently at school. But thank you for trying because we don't want the kids to say them. They're not cuss words exactly, they just don't sound very nice."

I hate doing this but awhile back I concluded I have to balance my own children's needs, with her needs.

She seems strangely glad to hear something she didn't know...that these weren't ladylike words.

She stays for hours but we set a timer on the oven; she checks in with her mom every 30 minutes.

Halfway through her visit, 7-year-old Landon, a boy who recently began visiting his grandmother on our street, knocks on the door. All boy, he plays Lincoln Logs and trains with Paul while I fold clothes and listen to all six of these children in my living room.

How did I suddenly get six, Lord? We used to have no one on this street except teenagers. I marvel at this and keep folding.

Last week Peter shared sad news from Mataya (Landon's cousin). Her aunt died. We know Mataya because her grandmother takes her to Vacation Bible School every year, and she also goes to AWANA. She visits our street only occasionally through the school year, but recently we've seen her more.

I think about the cousin relationship here while I fold clothes and I wonder if it is Landon's mother who passed. But I reject this notion, since Mataya didn't add this important part.

But when Peter asks Langdon where he lives and if his mother is picking him up from his grandmother's house and how long can he stay, Landon doesn't answer. He's strangely quiet and doesn't look up.

It's awkward.

Lexie comes to whisper in my ear. Landon's mother died.

Somehow I know this isn't one of her lies and my heart wants to scream....Noooooo, God! Not a 7-year-old child!

The awkward moment passes. Peter forgets his question and he and Lexie look up poison frog photos on the Internet.

I watch Landon closely after this, wanting to scoop him up in my arms but knowing it wouldn't solve anything. He'd hate the attention and the emotion and he doesn't even know me well.

I apologize about Peter's questions, telling him he's welcome here anytime. He never looks up, withdrawn but still engaged with the Lincoln Logs. 

I'm reminded of a glass room. Grief is like a glass room where everyone on the outside is seen living a normal life...giggling, laughing, interacting. But the person inside the glass? They can't engage because pain is a constant companion, giving them a reality no one understands. Laughter doesn't fit. And so the glass house stands. A year, two years.

I pray because my heart burns fire and I don't know what else to do.

"Lord, may this child come often and play here and get momentarily distracted with new toys and new friends. May he come so I can pray over him and we can love him."

I know his grandmother is a Christian and I want to reach out to her in her own grief, but I don't know her. I decide to pray about how to reach out and when.

She comes to the door after this, friendly, but wanting Landon to come home. He lives with her now, I surmise. She knows I'm a Christian and I'm sure that is why she lets him come at all. She's cautious with the children, much like me.

He leaves and Lexie stays longer.

At five o'clock I say I must start dinner and could they all go to the playroom where I can watch them easily?

Lexie's request for dinner? Steak or chicken along with corn on the cob.

"Do you like spaghetti?", I inquire, thinking they must have more money than us.

She does and she takes great pleasure in helping, like my own daughters.

I think about someone else's child getting burned in my home, but I don't want to withhold the love and attention so I give her a long handmit and let her stir the lean turkey sausage and put four spices in.

Peter wants to help too and they put spaghetti into the pot, spilling much on the floor while trying to break it in half. Strangely, my heart is focused entirely on ministry and the mess doesn't register.

After dinner they all play on the slip n' slide, beating the awful humidity and my air conditioner that won't keep up with the heat wave. 78 degrees is the best air conditioners do on a day like today.

Late at night, extra exhausted, I clean up the pots and the broken, spilled spaghetti, thinking over my day.

The previous night I suffered from insomnia, wondering how God would provide for the hernia surgery. I knew he would provide, but I wanted to be able to pay for it ourselves. I didn't want a check in the mail, unless it was signed From God.

Yes, everything is from Him and I know this, but I still want it my way.

I think of the morning, which seemed like eons ago, when Beth asked why I was sad.

How many times did my husband's surgery and our inability to pay come into my mind today? After Lexie and Landon came over, that is?

Zero.

Love Him, number one. Love one another, number two.  It's what we were meant for.


On this Independence Day, let's remember not to complicate our lives here. Not to fret about tomorrow and sabotage the joy God has for us.

It's only when we live out our purpose, that we truly live.


Matthew 22:36-40
“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’

This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

Multitude Monday and Kristen Welsh (and fudge)

“Piglet noticed that even though he had a Very Small Heart, it could hold a rather large amount of Gratitude.”
― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

“God gave you a gift of 86,400 seconds today. Have you used one to say thank you? ”
― William Arthur Ward

“Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it.” 
― William Arthur Ward

Dear Lord, I thank you for these blessings:

~ An easier fudge recipe for a scrumptious, no-oven summer dessert. This recipe uses only semi-sweet chips, condensed milk, vanilla extract, and a pinch of salt. You can mix in different baking chips, such as peanut butter or milk chocolate. Low-fat condensed milk should work fine too, as opposed to whole-fat condensed milk. Condensed milk, though high in fat calories and sugar, is super packed with calcium and many other nutrients due to the concentration of milk solids. Only 2 TBS equals 8% of your daily calcium requirement.

If you want a health-conscious fudge recipe, try this from Passionate Homemaking, which includes coconut oil, cocoa powder, and raw honey.

If you're a family who loves after-dinner dessert, the key to living nutrition-guilt free is keeping sugar and fat to a minimum the whole rest of the day, otherwise you set your children up for unhealthy cravings and a multitude of health problems. For example, choose lean meats, skim-milk products, healthier cooking oils, and avoid sweets until your appointed dessert time.

If homeschooling or stay-at-home mom work stresses you and you tend to go for the sugar too often, try limiting yourself to once-a-day dessert. If you mess up during the day, then forgo the after-dinner dessert. After-meal dessert is a better option because sugar eaten with a meal doesn't cause your blood sugar levels to rise and fall quickly (quick rises and falls leave you cranky, weak, and headachy).

~ My husband's hernia pain level is a 3 or 4 on a scale of 10. The blessing here is that it could be worse? Its changed our lives some. He now has to watch his exertion carefully, at work and at home, so he can keep working while waiting for surgery. He's on his feet for most of the day. Less trips to the park and less period. Hard on everyone, but necessary.

~ I am so thankful for Kristen Welsh's commitment to Micah 6:8. Kristen Welsh and family have been in Kenya for a week, visiting and doing ministry at her Mercy House maternity home for pregnant and abused girls. Kristen runs this non-profit organization out of her Texas garage (they just sold their Texas house and left it for good before getting on the plane for Kenya), but she travels with her family to Kenya each summer to work and do ministry on site. This entire ministry endeavor has been life-changing for Kristen and her family, to say the least. While very intense and stressful all the time, amazing blessings and miracles flow from Kristen's commitment to act justly, love mercy, walk humbly (Micah 6:8).

Sadly, women involved in intense ministry while also mothering their own children get their share of criticism from die-hard, Christian stay-at-home mothers. As you read these accounts you see that Kristen is not motivated by personal ambition, or by having a higher standard of living (she donates all the advertising money from her We Are That Family blog to this ministry and receives no compensation for her work). She's also not motivated by personal glory. It's all God and it's a day-to-day process of letting Him infiltrate her heart and mind, building her faith by the hour as various needs are met.

She needs help on this end, about that there's no question. Pray for her to reap the benefit of more hearts committed to Micah 6:8, and to these precious girls from Kenya? 

Here are posts from her current trip to Kenya:

The Measure You Give, The Measure You Get is a post about her recent visit with her Kenyan Compassion child.

Why Feeling Beautiful Matters is a post about the holistic healing of each girl they're committed to at Mercy House.

A Life Transformed is a post about a bitter, disillusioned girl, Cindy, whose story of abject poverty and abuse is long and painful. After being ministered to at Mercy House, Cindy is all about being thankful for what God has done, and wanting to give back.

How To Make Dreams Come True is a post about Sarah. Here are excerpts from Kristen's account:

I didn’t know about precious girls like Sarah, with a grin so big it fills the room and you can’t help but smile back. Her story is so horrible it takes your breath away and when she came to us she had nothing, including the will to live.

But God.

The transformation in her is undeniable. Incredible. Her healing, while still in process, is so clear, there is no denying the difference, the light in her eyes.

Sarah has a dream. She wants to open her own salon, styling hair and fixing nails. “I want to make women feel beautiful,” she says as she lifts her eyebrows and nods her head, to see if I understand.

Mercy House By the Numbers is a post about the costs of running Mercy House, about how many cloth diapers the eight babies use per day, etc. Very informative. They have 300 online ministry donors who donate on average less than $20 per month. Their monthly ministry cost averages $6,500 per month (eight girls and eight babies plus paid staff).

It All Comes Down to Love is a post featuring Quinter, a 16-year-old resident with an 11-month-old baby. Quinter sums up for us why this ministry exists. This post also asks you to donate $10 per month as a regular sponsor. Violet, a resident badly burned in abuse before coming to Mercy House, needs skin grafts this year so she can walk on her feet instead of on her toes. For that reason, and other needs, the ministry asks for our $10 per month support.

What are you thankful for today?

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quote source

A Child Like This

On his birthday, taking his first breath in the doctor's able hands, it seems to the Momma nothing could be more perfect than this. A newborn babe to nestle in your arms, the one you longed to hold for many months, but could only feel in the water-womb.

For three weeks straight your babe slumbers quietly and you weep as you hold him and thank God for the miracle of new life.

More awake and alert after those three weeks, your babe needs you constantly.

You're weary but smitten in those many months. Sleeping in becomes a foreign concept indeed...something you did eons ago. But your child giggles much and toddles so sweetly and his wonder at the world? It blesses and your smiles outnumber your frowns.

Things change later, for some of us.

Only God knows why...but some children? Their very presence creates frowns. They fit, argue, negotiate, push. On their best days they seem possessed. In a whole day you're hard pressed to find two fleeting moments of blessing.

Losing them seems like an unthinkable nightmare, you love them so. But everyday with them? It takes the breath out of you, it's so hard.

I want to cry with you, put my arms around you and say...I know this truth. 

It's never pretty and it seems no one understands and how can a mother really say her child is a nightmare? Who says that? Visitors see a smidgen of your reality and how can they really know?

Can they understand how you love your child with an unimaginable ferocity...and yet you feel like crying through your days with him? I don't know. Because outside of this space, my anonymous Christine Doe-space, I'm strangely quiet about it. Even when I tell my husband how hard it is, I feel like I'm betraying my child. As though I'm telling God I don't want my child.

This is what we can do. Keep thanking the God of the Universe...the Person who is Peace who worked out every minute detail of our lives...of our children's lives...for His glory.

Thank Him and trust Him and know that this isn't your fault. Your difficult child is not your failure. He is an instrument to sow and reap grace...in your heart and life...in his someday-wife's heart and life. 

The greatest gift of all? The one Our Heavenly Father gave us? It was Grace. 

When God gives us a difficult child? He gives The Gift all over again...Grace. Called to love this child in action and word, not just in heart, we become Grace. We have to.

It doesn't happen overnight in us, this work of Grace. Our responses shame us before they surprise us. They grieve Him before they honor Him.

But.

By the time our difficult child walks out the front door as a welcome visitor and not a daily resident...by the time he walks down the aisle with his beloved...will we resemble Grace then?
I think yes, friend. 

If we keep our hearts open to His chiseling. If we focus not on how hard it is, or on how long it is, or on those who say we're to blame.

We must know Him intimately, focus on Him, cling to Him. Let Him bestow peace in our hearts, even whilst turmoil boils in our midst.

Prayer Time:  Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for the gift of my son. Thank you on behalf of all those mothers who know what I'm talking about. Few things change us more than a difficult child...more than motherhood itself. Let us submit to you fully in all our days, and give thanks in all things. May we wake up and learn of you and be an instrument of your love and grace. May we forgive ourselves for our ugly responses, as you forgive us. May we reject the notion that it's our fault and know that it's Your will. Remake us, Lord. We want to resemble You.


In your Son's name I pray, Amen.

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Medical Prayer for my Husband

A call for prayer: We've discovered that my husband has an inguinal hernia. Surgery can be done on a outpatient basis with a one to three week recovery time, but without insurance he'll most likely have to wait until it becomes a medical emergency (strangulated hernia--risk of gangrene in the area and sepsis).  Thank you!