Thankful Thursday

The unthankful heart... discovers no mercies; but let the thankful heart sweep through the day and, as the magnet finds the iron, so it will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings! --Henry Ward Beecher




It's time to count blessings. Yes, indeedy. The repetitive nature of dishes and crumbs and reminding the kids to close the front door all. the. way... rattles the spirit like a pesky fly. Counting the beautiful swats the fly away, squashing the ungrateful, monotony-driven inner tirade.

I don't mean to compare my darling children to flies. I would never.

My children bless my socks off. Honestly. But their crumbs? Not so much.

Dear Lord, I thank you for these graces....

~ Tikki Tikki Tembo, retold by Arlene Mosel...because my girls get so excited when they successfully recite this long Chinese name. It's so catchy.




~ Cornfield Hide-And-Seek, by Christine Widman...because we're having a heatwave and my kids can totally imagine hiding in a shady, cool cornfield. We're sun dazzled too. They can't get enough of this sweet story.




~ Wallace's Lists, by Barbara Bottner and Gerald Kruglik. This story of young Wallace, who writes endless lists about anything and everything and fears many things, especially change, is incredibly heartwarming, especially as he starts a friendship with the adventurous boy next door. "Read it again!", they keep telling me. I cried at the end the first time and it isn't even sad. "You're not crying, are you, Mommy?"




~ The tween summer program at the library.. Tonight they threw paint-filled balloons onto a Styrofoam canvas. And the result? Striking art work. Every Thursday night is a different project or theme...not always art. The boys can't wait for next week.

~ Caring for young children in the evenings? Exhausting. The dinner and devotions, the vitamins, the dessert, the baths, the pajamas, the teeth. All of it with the time pressure to get them into bed at a decent hour while still enjoying stories, lends itself to aggravation. (Except the stories and prayer part.) My husband could easily let me do it all. He's gone twelve hours a day and many a man would just sit in a chair and expect to be served after such a long day. But not my husband. He tackles it all with me because we're in this together and he would never consider it my job exclusively. He's not always patient or exemplary about delays, but who is night after night? Certainly not me. Tonight I give thanks for a faithful, steadfast, sacrificial dad. A faithful, steadfast, sacrificial husband. I praise you God for this man in our lives. He didn't get his due on Father's Day because of my string of headaches. He makes a low wage and the world tells him he's nothing. But to us he's magnificent. Faithful, steadfast, sacrificial...that says it all.


~ Paul loves baking more and more all the time. A side job as a baker someday, he wonders? He feels so grown up to be doing it all himself, except for opening the oven--I draw the line there for now. His peanut-butter blossoms? Stunningly delicious. I daydreamed today about his someday bakery business. Could he call it Baking For His Glory and hand out baked goods to people in hospitals and nursing homes, along with encouraging Scriptures? A man's burden to provide makes it challenging to advise boys on job prospects. So many wonderful things don't make enough money (ask Shaun Groves). We can hardly send our boys out there to provide without devoting years of prayer. Many a Christian woman will want a high-earning man, but working for Christ doesn't always bring an impressive financial yield. And I want my boys working for Christ, above all. We can do many things for His glory--I suppose even at the stock exchange. But still. We mommies need to pray now for the right Christian girl to come along...one who will honor and uphold our boys' commitment to the things of the Lord. (Paul also wants to be a math and art teacher.)


~ My 3-year-old and 10-year-old wear glasses now. So studious, their new looks. (Our old, slow computers make it painful to download pictures, but I'll get around to it eventually.)


~ Simple things turn summer into giggles...like little water guns and $5 sprinklers and sidewalk chalk and bubbles and wands. Kids live to the fullest, uninhibited. What a privilege to witness it all.


~ Mary and Peter have taken up Japanese Beetle hunting. These pests attack the young cherry tree in the backyard every year and need to be annihilated. Mary and Peter? They're experts at catching any kind of insect. You'd be amazed (they keep a running tally). But Paul? Not so and that makes his competitive spirit come alive, even though insects aren't his thing. He wants his "yield" to be as high as brother's and sister's. Go figure. Not sure why I'm listing this as a blessing but it's an amusing slice of childhood. I need these slice of life moments to make me smile through dishes and laundry.


~ Daddy started The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe with the boys last night. More than a little smitten with this "very exciting" story, they were torn this morning about whether to read it themselves or wait for Daddy to continue at night. I think they're opting for both. 







~ Three-year-old Beth slept poorly through her arthritis-flare months. I ended up in her queen bed many a night, soothing. Frequent night pain passed away, followed by her dreams as my nighttime enemy. Several times a night she would cry out for me following vivid dreams. Sometimes a funny one would follow a bad and she would giggle in her sleep. According to other moms this is common for her age. Last night she woke up whimpering and after nursing briefly I thought she was asleep again. But minutes later she asked, eyes wide with fear, "when would we go outside?". A sleepy Momma responded, "After my shower in the morning I'll take you outside." Then she began crying and I realized she had a scary dream about being outside. I told her she didn't have to go outside at all and I pulled her toward me, completely engulfing her in my embrace--something she usually rejects because it's too confining. But her fear made the embrace welcome this time. And I loved it! It was a blessing to melt away her fears with my love and protection...to hear her return to sweet slumber in my embrace. Someday I'll sleep through the night again. But for now these night soothings can be so sweet. Being a nighttime Jesus to a fearful child? Awesome.


~ Without a working lawnmower our yard became an eyesore with the clover taking over. Bees became a big issue and the kids couldn't use the yard. My aunt and uncle heard about it from their son, who helped my husband change out our toilet last weekend. (Can I get an Amen?) Always generous, they gave us $200 to get a good used lawn mower (we've had a used lawn mower go out every year for the past three years...it's nearly comical by now, except for the bees). At the same time one became available through my husband's job, for just $40. So we tried to give the money back to my aunt and uncle but they wouldn't take it. Well, our kids have never had swimming lessons, ever. The cost was always prohibitive. Until my aunt and uncle's gift. I'm teary-eyed writing this. I hated taking this money, especially after their very generous Christmas gift of van- and car-repair money. I rejoice that in spite of my ugly pride, my boys are getting something they truly needed. (The girls are younger and can wait longer.) The Lord is faithful!


All of this generosity became possible after my uncle's father passed away last fall at the age of 93. He was a wonderful Christian man--loving, prudent, faithful, self-controlled. He and his wife--who died three years before him--lived in the same tiny house for over sixty-five years, even though on an engineer's salary they could have afforded bigger and better. They said no to materialism and ego. And because of inheritance my uncle and aunt can afford to be generous with us--because they, too, say no to materialism. When a Christian honors God faithfully, putting Him first and allowing His spirit to penetrate every aspect of life? Endless blessings flow, often for generations, because one man chose to worship God over himself. My boys will hear how their swimming money got into their hands--through one man's godly leadership and holiness. I hope they remember it long...for years after the swimming lessons end.

I realize it's no longer Monday or Thursday, but linking with these grateful ladies anyway. Ann's Father's Day post? Amazing and beautiful tribute to her husband. I cried over the unexpected gift from their kids.

White Blood Cell Count Concerns (and a correction)

Just popping in here to correct something from a previous post. I stated that a normal white blood cell count reading was about 5,500. I've now researched this quite a bit: the normal range is actually between 4,000 and 11,000. A typical reading for a three-year-old child is about 9,200.

Beth's reading was high in February and April (23,000 and 24,000). Any reading over 15,000 begins to concern doctors. Readings over 30,000 can be indicative of a bone marrow disorder such as leukemia. Other markers for leukemia were normal for Beth, but there is one type, chronic leukemia, in which only the white blood cell count appears abnormal.

So wow...I can't even rule out leukemia.

As much as I'm praying and trying to feel peace, the blood tests results? Worrisome.

I spoke with a nurse at the rheumatologist's office and learned that Beth's doctor wrote in the chart: are we missing a tumor or cyst in her knee?

She'll order an x-ray and possibly send Beth to a hematologist if the next reading is also high.

Funny how they write such things in their notes, but don't tell the parents anything? Don't you love medicine? Too much information isn't good, but too little can be even worse.

For the record I looked up pediatric knee tumors and thought it unlikely in Beth's case. The only red flag is her rapid growth in height, which sometimes put kids at greater risk for tumors. Most pediatric knee tumors occur in teenage boys with growth spurts.

The rheumatologist didn't mention this, but I've learned that Prednisone--given to Beth in late January/early February for 9 days because of a particularly bad arthritis flare--can cause high white blood cell counts. How high and for how long seems to be an individual thing. This would be an unusually long-term reaction to Prednisone, so the doctor's discounting it...not even mentioning it? Or she didn't review the chart from January and she forgot the prednisone? There are too few pediatric rheumatologists in the United States (most have high case loads).

NSAID's (she's been on naproxen for many months) can also cause higher counts, but not this high. Auto-immune diseases and inflammation can also contribute to higher readings, although most Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis patients have normal white blood cell counts, despite chronic inflammation.

She doesn't seem sickly and she's quite active--even using her knees better than she has for months. There's been a slight weight gain recently and she's grown three inches, making her quite tall for her age. The pediatrician said Beth's weight is only 1.5 pounds lower than average (at just over 30 pounds). He's not concerned about weight gain and doesn't think I should be, since we're all on the skinny side.

Don't you love that they look you over to decide what your child's weight should be? My Mary is packed with muscle and doesn't look skinny at all, at 5.5 years old and 42 pounds (about average). Hopefully the pediatrician doesn't make any comparative comment in front of Mary at her upcoming physical. I don't want an eating-disordered child who became sensitive when her doctor said she wasn't skinny "like the rest of us".

Sorry for that digression....Anyhow, I want to think the abnormal white blood cell readings are a combination of a lot of different things, but mainly an unusual reaction to oral Prednisone.

I will have her blood test repeated this week (the third time). Please pray for peace of mind? And no more health issues for Beth? Thank you.

How can I pray for you? I am faithful and it's worth the effort to share. Comments are on delay and I won't post prayer-request comments. Bless you, friends.

P.S. I really do like our pediatrician. 

A Prayer When Nothing Goes Right

Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee.

Isaiah 26:3

I can honestly say that very little is going right this week. Usually I would feel too ashamed to write that. It sounds ungrateful. Whiny. Self-centered.

But this week, it's true. A four-day hormone-induced migraine has me popping pills day and night. I'm fearful that my liver--despite following bottle instructions--might fail someday from too much acetaminophen, making it impossible for me to help my children when they have their own families.

I have aspirations as a grandmother, you see. Without the daily responsibility of feeding them, clothing them in clean, unwrinkled clothes, keeping their faces clean and hair combed, and wiping up their spills? That sounds like a recipe for real quality time. Quality time that lasts longer than twenty minutes.

I love these days and realize that the mundane is beautiful in and of itself. When I read on Ann's blog that her youngest turned seven, it made me sad for her, and grateful that my own youngest is still 3.5 years old. (Never mind that Beth's having fit after fit and seems as needy as a baby.)

The days of grandmother-hood? They will be sweet indeed. A different kind of sweetness. As long as my health holds up.

The headaches aren't all of it. My Beth is holding in her poops, creating havoc in my mind and heart. It's like a daily birthing, these poops. Sometimes just a little at a time. The fear of pooping? It. takes. up. a. lot. of. time. Her diet? Not the culprit. It's just fear.

That same three year old woke up and cried out for me, every time I rose early for devotions. The dinner dishes got completely finished on only one night. At least two loads of laundry were done per day, but very little got folded or put away.

Imagine it. Laundry on the couch, unfolded. Some laundry on top of the couch, folded. Laundry in the dining room, hanging. Laundry equals clutter and it makes me want to scream! And the kitchen counter, which I usually manage to completely clear at least three times a week, remains cluttered for the fifth day in a row!

I feel like an utter failure. Nobody has a house messier than this one. Order isn't everything, but it sure lends to a person's sanity.

I feel ready to admit this to the whole world. I am a horrible housekeeper!

I know this much. God wants me to hold my needy children. To sing to them on the potty. To whisper I love yous into their tiny ears. To kiss their ten-year-old cheeks. To give them the long hug they didn't know they needed. To tell them how good it feels to be with them on the couch, watching Stuart Little 3 from the library, while mommy's headache rages.

Children's hearts are so full of grace for mommy. At least at these ages. I wish my own heart could be so generous...to itself.

Prayer Time: Dear Heavenly Father, I'm at the end of myself. Heal this headache. Protect my liver. Help me, with patience and good will, catch up around here. Give me a heart of grace for myself. Help me with the fruit and cookies we're preparing today for our annual church town party. May hearts be beckoned to attend church. May all of us radiate your love, despite our infirmities and imperfections. May all mommies everywhere know that they are more than their clutter. More than their sticky floors. Help us to focus on You, and on Your Kingdom, while walking through our homes without tripping. I love you. Thank you for plucking me out of this world at age 31, and remaking me in your image. Help me to do you proud and be humble in heart. I owe you everything. May my life be a daily offering to you.


In Jesus' name I pray, Amen.

Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee.

Isaiah 26:3

photo credit

If We Could Only See

I ran across wonderful truth words. It's the truth I feel. The truth I live. The truth I look for all around me. 


Have you ever heard a testimony similar to this? A person loses his job, prays to the Lord for help, and then finds another job with a better salary in just a couple of weeks?

While we can all rejoice with that person, many times the situation does not turn around that quickly. Sometimes it may even get worse in spite of our most earnest prayers.

I wonder if the angels rejoice even more so in a testimony like this one: “Things got bad, I prayed, they got worse, I prayed again, they didn't improve. But I am still trusting in God and praising Him.”

Courtesy of Compassion International: http://blog.compassion.com/why-do-we-follow-the-lord/#ixzz1xfacVwIY


What if...


...the disease doesn't go away. 


...the problem personality doesn't soften. 


...the mother-in-law doesn't become more encouraging.


...the husband doesn't get more spiritual. 


...the family member doesn't come to the Lord.


...the poor family doesn't stop hungering for daily bread.


...the child doesn't remain in the faith.


...the problem neighbors don't move away.


...the bank gets the house.


...the tumor gets bigger.


...a second miscarriage occurs.


...the infertility never resolves.


We live for improvements, for success, because we don't see with God's eyes. We don't understand the brevity of this life. The weight of problems--either our's or someone else's--bury us. We fail to see past them. But God sees. God never stops working to win souls to himself. One more soul. That's His heart.


The challenge of this life is not to solve the latest problem, but to adopt God's heart. God's eyes. The real problem is not the mother-in-law, or the disease, or the lost job.


The real problem is our vision.


Prayer Time:  Dear Heavenly Father, Thank you for the cross. Thank you for your commitment to winning souls, above all else. Thank you for Eternity. We can't understand it all, Lord, but we want to see with your eyes anyway. Please help us. Please heal us of a here-and-now mentality. May we focus on the lost souls, instead of the lost jobs. May we be your hands and your feet, and your heart, to others. May we keep our eyes on you. 


In Jesus' name we pray, Amen.


photo credit

Happily linking with Jennifer

And with Emily

The Parenting Dance

Mother and Child by a River with Wild Roses
Mildred Butler, 1900

Trying to keep my three year old from using her injured (inner) wrist is a full time job. I can take up regular blogging again after her stitches come out next weekend. The wrist is an area that naturally gets a lot of movement and I have to watch her activity level closely to achieve the best possible healing. We are so thankful her veins weren't involved! The scene could have been far worse.

Last Thursday, June 7, she bent down slightly to look at a critter and lost her balance on the way up, because of her arthritic knees. She used a glass critter cage to try and break her fall. (10-gallon fish tank, dry, empty, but turned on its side by Paul to allow some bees to escape). Her wrist went right through the glass, shattering the cage and giving her a nasty skin flap wound, which needed four stitches. It was very close to veins but didn't hit any and didn't bleed much at all.

Maybe because I have a family history of anxiety--or maybe just because I'm a mom--any accident makes me anxious for weeks. I begin to feel as though I'm helpless in protecting my family. My mind switches to overdrive as it considers all the possible mishaps.

While I'm anxious this time too, I also feel a certain assurance from the Lord regarding Beth's condition. Her balance may not be right until her arthritis goes into permanent remission. She is always at greater risk of injury. But the Lord protected her. I feel as though he'll let her stumble, but not fall--so to speak. There may be more scary scenes, but I must trust Him to again protect her.

I can try harder to keep any glass or metal out of her playing environment, but I can't go overboard and take childhood joys away. She needs to fully live, regardless of her arthritis.

Parenting is as much about letting go, as it is about conscientiousness. It's a fine, delicate dance. It's clinging to God, the true owner of my children, and trusting His plans.

It's so hard. And such a privilege.

The greatest mothering blessing comes to those who lay it all at His feet. When we take it all back--the full weight of it--we fail and make ourselves, and our children, miserable.

If mothering is exhausting you, as it has me lately, maybe our sin is in thinking it all depends on us?

1) Pray much. 2) Point the way to Him. These two things, we must do.

Prayer Time: Dear Lord, thank you for the gift of children, for the gift of mothering. Help us to relinquish control over to you, as we parent the children you so graciously trust us with. May we remain in You, so we can point the way. Heal us of anxiety and stress over outcomes, whether for next week, or for the next decade. Teach us to lay it all at your feet. Come alongside us and teach us to pray, and to point the way. May we never crowd You out, as we seek to give the best to our children. You are the best.


In Jesus' name we pray, Amen.