some blessings and wonders

- steady laughter from the kiddy pool

- Shivering pool bodies, needing Momma's warmth

- Joy and wonder-filled firefly jaunts

- Momma Robin feeding her second family

- Eight-year-old son, who carefully chooses where to put the kiddy pool, so as not to upset Momma Robin's nearby nesting

- Multiple bug containers, filled, on the living room Armour (out of baby's reach)

- Tired, sun-drenched kids, ripe for afternoon cuddles

- Baby soft lips on my breast, taking in God-designed sustenance with a side dish of love and comfort

- A baby who felt better, seemed happier, calmer, gifting me with sweet smiles, tender kisses, tickled-out giggles

- A suddenly potty-taught preschooler, living as though she'd donned Dora panties all her life

- Helping preschooler put her panties right side out, after each potty visit

- My boys, no longer given to bed wetting

- My boys sharing a fascinating journey with me through Dr. Dolittle and the Green Canary - Hugh Lofting weaves a tale like no other.  My new favorite children's author (deceased, sadly).

- Hard-loving, hard-working husband, who passes through the kitchen and tells me my legs are beautiful (not mentioning or apparently noticing the extensive varicosities on my shins)
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- I've warned my husband that when Beth is finished nursing, my *reasts will look like those out of National Geographic.  He doesn't believe me, but says that even if it's true, he'll still love them.  I keep trying to prepare him, and he keeps trying to brush it off.  I'm not sure I can even call this a blessing.  Hope so.  Time will tell.  All other nursings were followed by new pregnancies, hiding the effects.

- Mary and Paul, who wake up in cuddling moods (the other two wake up on the move).

- Beth's bedroom cleaned out today, spruced up for sister-in-law's (Lorrie's) July 4th weekend visit

- Excited kids, eager to enjoy Auntie's gentle love

- Boys' room cleaned out today, spruced up for husband's best friend, who drives from PA with Lorrie this visit.  A physically-handicapped man (hand and arm), he never found a wife, sadly.  He lived with his mother always, whom he just lost.  He has a lonely journey ahead, as deteriorating health forced him on disability, which will be isolating.  Please pray for him?  He is churched, but doesn't put his faith directly in Christ.

my new blogging buddy

I read this post this morning, which brought tears to my eyes.  My new blogging buddy, Michelle, penned the post.  I'm so happy to have met her!

See The People

Most of us are either task-oriented or people-oriented.  Mary or Martha.  I'm sure there are caveats for the Marys among you, but I wouldn't know about those.  I'm a Martha.

If you're a Martha, it'll be reflected in how your daughter talks to her dolls.  You'll hear the words "busy" and "work" somewhere in there.

Will you smile the first time you hear your daughter say to her dolly, "Not now.  Momma's got work to do."

Or will you mourn?

When your daughter and son grow up, what props will they overwhelmingly associate with the word Momma?  A broom, dishtowel, Windex bottle, and vacuum cleaner?

Or a storybook, ready hug, spontaneous walk, and impromptu batch of cookies?

Leave them with fond memories.


Learn to pass through a room and see the people, not the mess.

You can't keep up with the messes anyway, so why focus on them?  Do the dishes and laundry.  Wipe sticky stuff off the floors, and anything pale-yellow looking.  Forget the rest until your kids are old enough to help--which is sooner than you think.  It takes consistent training for a month or so to get kids over six helping quite a bit.

Your future happiness, and theirs, depends on Martha's development of selective vision--the people, not the tasks.

my parenting flaws exposed

After six tries, this was the best picture taken of my "darlings"  sitting on a friend's swing.   It was hot, humid, cloudy, buggy, and they had no interest in a picture for posterity sake.  

See the two on the right?  They sharpen me.  Stretch me.  Remind me that I'm a sinner, too.  I overreact to their intense personalities.  Uh, duh......where'd they get that intensity?  From me, though I hate to admit it.  I'm a unique combination of meek and hot-temper, but the public never sees the heat.  I reserve that ugliness for my beloved family.  Isn't that a rotten way to live?  Why do we do that?

Here's my hot-tempered eighteen-month-old daughter, who takes her tray of preschool beans and tosses them onto the floor with an evil smile--after she's done amusing herself and wants out of her booster seat.  Will she still do this when she can say, "I'm done Mommy.  Please get me out."  How much of her intense personality has to do with not being able to communicate well with words, and not having any control over her day? Does she need more time to play with Mommy one-on-one?

This same daughter makes a habit of biting her siblings and pulling their hair, all for the love of power and effect.  They make it worse by laughing and enticing her to chase them, mouth open and ready.  I have to confess that lately I worry about her.  What is this meanness?  Teething angst?  Over tiredness?  Why does she have so little interest in pleasing us?  Will she grow out of this, or will we be on our knees a lot, as we raise her?

I took both girls to a clinic appointment today.  They got their skin pricked for an iron test, and Baby Beth got upset and tried to push the nurse away.  The nurse commented on how different the two girls' personalities are.  Beth, she remarked, is hot-tempered, and Mary, so mild-mannered.

That stung.  The nurse wasn't finding fault exactly, but I felt for Beth anyway.  Beth doesn't choose to have a hot temper, any more than I do.  I really hate having a temper.  It makes me feel awful. We don't get to choose our faults, or our virtues.  God gets to choose.

James 1:19-20  Know this, my beloved brothers; let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger; for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God.

Ephesians 4:32 Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.

Galatians 6:1-3 Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgressions, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness.  Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted.  Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.  For if anyone thinks he is something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself.

After the appointment I dropped the girls off at home and had one hour to rush through Super Walmart to get groceries, before husband had to leave for work.  Talk about tag-team parenting!  

Thunder, lightening, and the heaviest downpour I've ever seen awaited me as I prepared to leave the store, full cart in front of me.  The employees offered to watch my groceries while I pulled the van up to the building.  

The high wind and rushing rain shocked me.  Just running to my van resulted in completely drenched clothes, hair, face and shoes.  Did someone say wet t-shirt contest?  Mascara ran down my face, even though I'd applied very little.  I was a sight.  The employees insisted on helping me load the van, even though I desperately wanted to be invisible.

While driving home from the clinic appointment, and while I shopped, I brooded about Baby Beth's temper and her hyperactive ways.  God was giving me another angry, hyper child to raise?  How would I manage?  Was this fair, to be given two difficult children? (Don't answer that.  I know it's an extremely childish question to ask God, when others have children who suffer horrible physical/mental things, in comparison.)

By the time I'd reached home in my drenched, rushed, stressed state, I didn't know it, but my own temper was ripe for an explosion.

Afterwards, I felt so convicted.  All I could focus on was this:   I'm no better than my two angry children!  

God was showing me something big today.  My approach to handling the kids' anger has been all wrong, all along. 

 "Just who do you think you are, behaving like that?!"   Yes, I've been know to get angry at their anger.  Peter has heard this statement from me many a time.

The Galatians passage tells me, "You who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness....for if anyone thinks he is something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself."  

As the parent I am nothing, thinking I am something.  I am not gentle, bearing with my children in love, except on the easiest of days.  They look to me for direction in how to tame their tempers, and instead of providing them with tools, I answer them with my own anger (raising my voice).  

I know the Galatians passage doesn't mean we shouldn't discipline our children firmly.  I'm not starting a discussion on discipline techniques.  Children need firmness, but one can be firm and gentle, at the same time.  We would do well to remember that our children don't choose their flaws.  They don't set out to punish us, or exasperate us.  

They are simply weak--sinners, like us, in need of parental grace and gentle restoration.

Are we as gentle with them as our Lord is with us?  What punishment do we get for our fits?  In our parenting, do we see ourselves as something, when we are nothing?  Do we aim to punish our children for making us miserable (punishment mentality)?  Or are we more interested in having them humble themselves before God, confessing their sins, and asking Him for strength?  

These are all questions for me, not for you, mind you.

These two have their moments, but raising them is essentially a breeze.  They have Daddy's mild-mannered temperament.  He is easily frustrated, but still, he's slow to anger, easy to calm, bearing with others in love.  Not given to brooding or selfishness, these two, like my husband, will be the better half in their marriages someday.

We went to visit my friend Phyllis (left), who was here visiting her sister in Ohio.  I taught first grade with Phyllis in California for several years.  She brought me to the Lord, so there is a special bond between us.  I like to think of her as my spiritual mother (she's 66 years old...a widow for twenty years...husband committed suicide).  She was a missionary in China for two years recently, and just got back a few months ago from a short-term mission trip in Africa, where she taught second grade in an orphanage.  She intends on returning to Africa for a four-month mission trip later this year.

 Her sister has an enormous backyard, full of foliage.  She visits once a year and my children love catching insects on this lovely property. Peter caught his first praying mantis of the season.  He is still so excited a day later that school was a wash today--except for science, of course.

Had I Been Warned

Do you feel disconnected from God?  Not sure how to reconnect, or why you even feel a disconnect?  Could it be overuse of technology?  A thoughtful discussion on this here-- Push Button Faith.  One of Tozer's works is quoted.  The post is quite a good read, including the comment section.
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A week ago we ordered some more Hugh Lofting works--author of The Story of Dr. Doolittle.  The library staff responds quickly; we're now halfway through Doctor Dolittle and the Green Canary.

Oh, Mr. Lofting!  Can you ever weave a good tale!  We're mesmerized by the adventures of this little green canary, world traveler.

My six year old wasn't pleased at first.  Chapter one dragged along.  Highly visual, Paul still prefers picture books for the most part.  I reminded him that authors appreciate our patience as they warm us toward their characters.

Sure enough, Hugh Lofting had my boy's heart midway through chapter 2.

I am blessed.  Tucking the boys in tonight--their heads full of the green canary's wild, human-like adventures--I had an epiphany about my life, my circumstances.

Had I been warned five years ago about the cost of going down to one income, I would have given up my dream of being a stay-at-home mom.  Fear would have gripped me.
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The warning would read thus:

- You'll be down to one car, stuck at home with four children.

- You'll repeat the same chores almost hourly.  You'll rarely rest.  No lunch breaks.

- You'll never go on a vacation, or on a weekend away, or even to a movie.  You might dine out with a giftcard once a year.  You'll afford McDonald's hamburgers when on the run, but will have to forgo the drinks; you'll share one fry order.

- You'll never own the latest fashions.  You'll likely never buy a new garment.  You'll scramble to keep your lips lipsticked.  Every additional garment in the house will be from a thrift store, as well as most of the toys, books and decorations.  You'll never make another full-price bookstore purchase, or own a new book.

- You'll have no financial security.  You won't make enough to save.  Retirement plan?  What's that?  Each month, the financial math will scream red.

- Your vehicle will always be on the brink of extinction.  Every spare penny will go into it.

- People will wonder how you can live in such a fashion, and will secretly think you're a simpleton.

- When a child asks for something, such as sand for the sandbox, you'll have to repeatedly say, "Not yet.  Pray about it.  God decides what we should have."

- A store bought card will be too expensive.  You will not buy your extended family any more gifts, and yet they might continue giving gifts, making you feel small.
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Hearing all this, I would have abandoned my dream of being a stay-at-home mom.  Fear would have enveloped my small-faithed, entrenched-in-the-culture heart.  My children would have gone to daycare; I wouldn't have any daughters.

But wow!  The lifestyle above has come to pass.  Slowly.

God didn't spring all the change on me at once.  He meets us where we're at--never overburdening.  This is precisely why we mustn't judge others.  We can't know where they're at.  Only God can.

God slowly:

Built my faith.

Changed my heart.

Imparted wisdom.

Extracted me from the culture.

Filled me with Himself.

Gave me joy in simple things, like bird nests in my yard, a tale expertly woven, a meal thoughtfully prepared.

He taught me about togetherness.

About the richness of family relationship.

About the joys of breaking bread together.  Reading the Word together.  Dancing to Jesus songs together.

Creating together.

He made a huge dent in my self-consciousness.  And in my selfishness.

He blessed.  And blessed.  And blessed.

He's still blessing.

No, not in ways recognized by the culture.

Only my heart recognizes the blessings.  Savors them.  Counts them.


The loveliest change?


I've learned that every day is Thanksgiving day.