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.  

live webcam of eagle's nest

I received an e-mail from a homeschooling friend today with fabulous educational links.  My children are enthralled with these nests--eagle and hummingbird!  She explains the links below:
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Oh, I have two links your bird-lovers might be interested in, if you want to preview.  They are live web cams.  One is of a hummingbird nest (eggs to hatch in about 10 days, I think), and one is of an eagle next with chicks.  We check in on these from time to time and it's neat to see eggs hatch and the mommas feeding their young.

http://phoebeallens.com/  This is the hummingbird one.  I usually adjust the window size so the chatting on the side doesn't show - you never know what people will type in those!

http://www.stltoday.com/news/multimedia/html_a6804686-5cb4-11e0-bcf2-0019bb30f31a.html  This is the eagle one.  They both have a commercial before the video appears.

two-inch furry things--not for the skittish

The other night as I sat down to dinner with the children, Peter was at the window, again, watching his bird friends.  Only rarely is Peter not at the window.  He doesn't want to miss a single bird!

A few mourning doves were ground feeding, and out of the corner of his eye, Peter spied something small, fast, furry, and jet black.  A closer look revealed an extremely tiny mole!  He was smaller than the palm of my two-year-old's hand!  The cute little guy was dragging a long piece of meat fat--put out for the birds--back to his home.  Oh, the giggles!  He kept dropping it and having to go back for it.  My children found this the funniest, cutest, most endearing thing ever!  Suddenly the dinner they were so hungry for, didn't matter.  They only had eyes for that mole--who was, after all, wildly entertaining, I have to admit.

After fifteen minutes of observation, broken up with my pleas to take some bites of food, Mary announces:

"When I grow up I'm going to have my very own pet mole."

She said it in a voice conveying deep longing.  Oh, it made me smile wide!

She must have known we'd say no to a mole friend right now.  We're kill-joys that way.  A pet praying mantis?  A pet beetle?  A pet frog?  Be my guest.  But a mole?  Notta chance.

The next day I told my husband about our sweet little Mary's love and longing for two-inch long furry things.  He chuckled in spite of himself.  It's so like Mary to say such a thing.

Today, husband looked far and wide for his long lost drill bits.  Following a thirty-minute house search, he went out to the shed, hoping to find them there.

He ran into an old, hardly-used tool box.  He'd left it open about an inch, last time he used it, apparently.  Right away he noticed some soft, insulation-type material on the left side.

A nest!

Now, my husband is all boy!  Truly.  He loves all things creepy crawly, furry, feathered.  Except starlings and cowbirds, mind you.  I'm afraid there are no kind words for them.  And no kind deeds, either.

He moved the nesting material around a little, searching for whatever might have been there.  With his bare hands!  Oh, my.  That's something we gals just wouldn't do!   Not most of us, anyway.

My dear husband loves his children and wants to give them good gifts, as all fathers do.  He remembered what Mary had said about that cute little mole.

Mother Mouse scurried out of the toolbox so fast at this point, that husband wasn't even sure what he'd seen.

Next, he saw two tiny little babies, scared senseless in the corner.

He closed the toolbox and brought it into the house.

We heard the door open, then husband say:  "Oh, Mary!  I have a little surprise for you!"

Mary needs a new bike but we can't spend the money right now.  I bought her one at a thrift store last summer and it's quickly wearing out--the chain keeps falling off, or locking.  I expected to see a brand new bike, as we all went running to see what husband was up to.  The sheer joy, the glee, in his voice, made me sure of it.

But, no.  Not this time.  It was the little boy in my husband--that's where the glee came from--the joy!  He was aching to show his sweet little girl some precious baby mice.  He knew it would make her happy, as well as Peter.

And, oh yes!  They were both smitten.  Paul thought they were cute enough, but he's not a nature buff.  He's the odd man out around here--loves all things numbers and letters.  My mathematician can take or leave all things creepy crawly, furry, or feathered--though he laughs with the rest of us at the mole and squirrel antics.

When husband told us about the mother scurrying away, all I could think of was the horror she must feel at having her babies taken from her!  They weren't pinkies by any means, but they might still be nurslings.

In this photo you can see the nest on the left, and a tiny baby in the top right corner, grayish in color.

Instead of clearing out the nest and reclaiming his toolbox, husband carefully carried it back to the appointed spot in the shed, leaving it open about an inch, so Momma Mouse could make her way back to her babies.

I love that man!  He's a wonderful Daddy, a wonderful soul!  

Am I the only wife who feels the greatest love for my husband when he's at his fathering best?  Is that universal, Ladies?

I won't be retrieving anything from the shed any more, needless to say.  I didn't know there were mice in there!  Peter tells me he'd be glad to go in there, any time.  He plans on checking up on Mrs. Mouse and family, as often as possible.

Now we have a new research project to work on!  All things mice.  If there's some disease or danger involved in playing around wild mice, we'd better learn about it now.  My Mary might decide to catch one of these babies, soon enough.  I don't worry about Peter.  His germ-phobic OCD side would prevent him from picking up a mouse.  But my Mary?  She's oblivious of such things!  Germs? What are those?  That sweet girl is a free soul--one part Tom Boy, one part dress-and-frill-loving princess.

the cup of wonderfulness

Good Friday to you!

Husband had a half day off so we went to a noon Good Friday service at our church.  We sat together as a family, which was such a blessing--notwithstanding the inevitable preschooler wiggles.

During one part of the grave, emotional sermon, the preaching pastor asked a rhetorical question:

"Do you know Jesus?"

Mary answered, not in a loud voice, but in a voice that carried:

"Yes, I know Jesus!"

It was a packed mega-church, so only several pews around us heard.  I'm sorry children were ever taken out of church services.  Truly, I am.  They bless!  Sometimes more than any preacher ever could.

It was a beautiful experience.

I picked up Miss Mary and held her during the last song, enabling her to see better. And also, because I just love holding my sweet babes while singing to Jesus!  Mary held me close, her cheek against mine, and softly rubbed my back.  It was so precious!

After the piano player finished the last of Nothing But The Blood Of Jesus, which the congregation sung together, Miss Beth clapped her appreciation and cheered, "Yeah!"

And finally, as we walked back to the van in the cold, driving rain, Peter said to me:

"Mommy, I'm not sure I understood all of it, but I did understand this part:  He took the cup of sorrow so that we could take the cup of wonderfulness."

"Yes, Peter!  That is Easter!  You understood perfectly!"

Happy Easter, Friends!  Wishing you Resurrection joy!