The Gift

          "I can't empty the dishwasher;  I'm not done decorating!!" Gracie lamented through gritted teeth. It was the second time that I had asked her to come empty the dishwasher, and her frustration with my lack of "understanding" showed in her tone of desperation. I wanted the dishwasher emptied right that instant. My lip was not protruding yet, but my face was bearing a serious pout that only a martyr of motherhood can wear properly. This day was special.   I resorted to using the strongest persuasion that a mother can utter but one day out of the year: "...but it's MY birthday." 
          To which she agonized, " I know!! THAT'S why I'm decorating!  It's your present!!"  I tried to explain that a real present would be to do what I asked even if it conflicted with her plans, but I could sense that Gracie was not getting my point.
            'Tis the season of giving, so I have been more reflective than usual about gifts in general. That day, I felt a gentle nudge about how many times I had been "giving" God my time (like with volunteering at church), but blowing up at the kids when we were late for my "serving" commitment. God's commandments boils down to two things: loving Him and loving others (Luke 10: 27). The best gift I can give God this season is what He really wants: everything done in love. This is what I'm focusing on...love.
         Do you ever feel like the ugly step-daughter of God that He has decided to ignore all your requests? That's a little how I felt lately. I've searched my heart for what is holding Him back from me and come up empty. It's moments like these that I try to hold onto what I know to be true. (Reading about Joseph waiting 13 years to be out of his dark season puts my impatience in perspective--I hope I don't have 13 years of this!).  My birthday was feeling a little less than perfect this year. I had planned on going on a fun field trip or something (birthdays are holidays in our school); but Sierra, our cat, showed up two days earlier and her shots were overdue. She hadn't been around for two months. She's been upset ever since the kittens arrived over a year ago. We had to hold her captive in a seperate coop till we could take her to the vet, which ended up being my birthday.
           Gracie decorated in the house after the vet appointment, while I sat on the porch attempting to spend a little time with Sierra before she took off. I told God how hopeless I felt about Sierra, making changes in my life, getting more organized,  and just life in general. It's hard to hold onto hope when you don't see answers to what you are praying for. It's easy to believe in God, but not that He actually rewards those who seek Him out (Hebrews 11:6)...especially when you don't feel rewarded. I asked God if He still heard me, if He was really still working on my requests, and for some sort of sign that He still loved me. I told Him how heartbroken I was that Sierra kept running away and refused to make peace with our other cats. I felt to blame for having too many cats around. I remember feeling that if there was no hope for Sierra, there was no hope for me. The longer I stayed on the porch with the cat, the more she hissed at me and refused to even let me pet her. When Mary came home from school, I asked her to let Sierra go after saying goodbye.  Who knew when she would be back.
          When we arrived home at the end of AWANA that night, I was shocked to see Sierra waiting for us at the front door. I put her back in the coop that night, and she has been at our house ever since (sleeping by herself at night). She not only came back but has been extremely affectionate since that day.That one answer to prayer was enough for my faith to skyrocket.  I know God is still working; and the lack of answers, just means that He has better ideas than I can request.

If you're feeling hopeless,  this post is for you.  He is still there. He hears every request. He's working and His solution is better than you could ever imagine! Keep believing and loving those around you.

Merry Christmas!

Laying Down The Law

             I think I would've made a better Pharisee than a disciple.  I love rules and the boundaries they bring because of their predictability. It's also easier to measure my worth based on my adherence to the rules. I've always been guilty of pride or shame because of "the rules" (depending on where I fall for the moment). I can just imagine being outraged at all the "rule-breaking" that Jesus and his followers engaged in. I was always a rule keeper as a child. Love was really the only thing that ever made me choose to supersede those boundaries. As a teenager, it caused me to neglect schoolwork and get my only "B" in one high school course. As an adult, it's caused me to stay up countless hours with my kids at night and put my daily routine on hold while teaching them. Rules bring safety, but for me they also bring so much guilt because I can never meet up to anyone's expectations,  let alone mine.
            Having five children has pretty much broken my idea of being in constant control and strict rule keeping. It's exhausting trying to always being in charge....maybe that's why I really enjoyed being in our local theatre. I was in my first play this summer along with Mary and Carrie, which was so much fun! I got to take direction and not organize things. I loved the change of pace it brought. My experience with theatre this summer also brought me face to face with one of the stupidest things I've ever done. On our way to a rehearsal,  I choose to attempt driving through water that was way to deep (it was flash flooding in our area)...causing our van to get stuck, and water to flood it, pretty much ruining it. It's bad when you make a bad judgement for yourself,  but it's even worse when you have little ones with you. Mary and Grace were both with me. I will never forget the panic in poor Grace's voice as she watched the water raise in the van and said, "We're going to drown; we're going to drown! I've even dreamt this has happened!!" Thankfully,  a nearby farmer helped us to all escape safely (and even towed our car out), but it could've turned out much worse had the guide posts along the road not kept the van from getting caught and rolling over. It makes me ill just to think about it. It filled me with shame and regret for the days following it. It's hard even now writing about it. A little patience (yup, that's my word for this year) and common sense would've prevented all of this.
           It's not my only failure since I've last posted. There's also the three cavities that our two year old had to have filled. At his age, I feel like a lot of the blame for that falls on me. I know the dentist assured me that he chipped away the hard enamel of his upper teeth by his habit of grinding his bottom teeth against his top teeth, but how could they be that soft to even do that? Is it because he has too many sweets? Is it because I neglected to brush them enough to keep them clean? This feels like just another failure of mine.
              That is the problem with measuring myself by rules and my inadequacies. It points it's ugly finger at me and calls me worthless and stupid.  I share these things because maybe you've done something stupid (but hopefully not this stupid...), and you feel alone. You're not. Grace is what makes all the difference. Grace is simply getting something that you don't deserve.  Because of God's grace, I don't have to wear all this shame. He tells me that it's all right...that He will bring good from this.  He will heal this traumatic experience for our family. He will give wisdom and comfort to me as we process this. This was all brought to life in a tangible way, while studying"Grace-Based Parenting" again this summer with some friends of mine. The week that we were practicing instilling a "Secure Love" in our kids was the week of the van mishap. That was the week my hubby exemplified his unfailing love for me, by not only cleaning up and fixing the van (and handling the kids every night as well since that was show week)...but also by turning over the keys to his fully functioning vehicle for me to drive. I wish I never would've been so stupid, but the love he demonstrated is something I will always cherish. I hate that Mr. Blue Eyes had cavities,  but I'm so grateful for a skilled pediatric dentist to handle it skillfully.  I'm very grateful for the friend who offered to watch my other kids while we went. God knows just who to demonstrate His grace through.
           Interestingly enough, love is extolled in the Bible as being what followers of Christ should be known by...not by perfection or wisdom. Love is what caused God to form a plan for us and it continues to motivate His grace towards us. Love trumps the law. It trumps rule-keeping.
              The only momentary success I have enjoyed this spring was the stellar accomplishments of Mary and Half-pint in their testing (we did Iowa Basic Skills Testing in May). They both tested compositly far above their current grade level and into the 90th percentile nationally, which gave me warm fuzzies. They have continued to learn from me and from their own quest for knowledge.  That is about to change in some ways for Mary, as she has chosen to go back into our local school system (and we wholeheartedly support this). I'm glad to have done my part in her education (and continue on with this in a supportive role).
            This spring, I had one of my best inspirational homeschooling moments when the children represented the three branches of government. We had new "house rules" for the day. Half-pint adamantly declared she wanted to make the rules, so she represented Congress. Gracie helped her as a Representative to create the rules as the legislative branch. Mary choose to be President to represent the executive Branch. She had the right to veto the rules if needed (and she exercised this right). Carrie represented the judiciary Branch and interpreted the rules for us. It only took about an hour for me to break a rule about no yelling with a timeout being the punishment.  We typically do one minute for each year of age. I chuckled when I went to the bench in our timeout area for 38 minutes.  Half-pint was beyond aggravated when Carrie ruled that I could complete the remainder of my timeout in the shower since everyone kept coming up to talk to me during my "reflective" time. Half-pint felt that it was rewarding my failure to follow the rule. She experienced firsthand the difficulty of laws being carried out the way they are intended. She insisted on being the judiciary branch the following day.
           I'm glad that God gets to be the whole deal.  I'm thankful that, despite my failures, God has ruled on the side of grace; my hubby has ruled on the side of love; and family still accepts me despite my shortcomings.  It's been a season of laying down the law in favor of love and grace, and it couldn't have come at a better time.

Old-Fashioned

          Being nearly thirteen isn't easy for anyone, but it's interesting to be on the other side as a parent. I remember feeling like the oddball (because of my clothes, my parent's beliefs, the absence of my dad, etc.). For a long time, I believed I was the only one.
          Mary went away with 400 other middle-schoolers to the mountains of Colorado last weekend.  She had a great time, but she is noticing the differences between herself and others. She loves to read and knit (and read about knitting). She loves acting. She loves trying out new hairstyles (she spends lots of time watching and memorizing hairstyles from www.cutegirlhairstyles.com). I think that's amazing and awesome that she loves those things, but also that she knows that about herself. She professes that she is "old-fashioned"...mainly because she owns neither an iPad (or iPod), smart phone or even a Kindle. I know she is convinced that she is the only 12 year old on the planet that doesn't own those things, but I know there are other weirdos like me out there that believe she doesn't need any of those things...at 12. Before you freak out for my technologically-deprived child, let me also point out that she has access to a family phone, my smart phone, a family epad,  and a laptop/computer (we don't really have iAnything because we are more of a PC family).
           On her trip, she asked others if they like some of the books she likes; and they quipped that they "don't read".  Apparently,  they just read their text messages that they were sending back and forth on the charter bus to Colorado.  They did enjoy the girl scout cookies that Charles sent along with her though. She did get to know some of the girls, but there wasn't really any deep connections made with any of them. She said she feels like Steve Rogers (Captain America) in a Tony Stark (Iron Man) world.
           While I was running today, I was inspired to give her an essay assignment: "Why does Captain America lead the Avengers?" He's not the smartest or the strongest...and certainly not the most technologically advanced.  I'm hoping she will focus in on why he is a good leader,  why everyone listens to him, and why he is important to the team...even though he's old-fashioned.  He's got heart, integrity,  and compassion- things that Mary possess too. I want her to make this connection and understand her value in this world is not based on the technology she owns.
            When Mary and I went to Winter Jam, we bought CD's and one of my favorite songs is by Francesca Batistelli:
"Unusual". Take a listen...and give me another idea for her next essay while your at it.

Interrupting Pirates

           I have five children, and they constantly hound me. As I just laid our toddler down for his nap, Carrie and Gracie popped their heads in to say something that they just had to ask (they seem like they can never plan ahead). They wait till five minutes after my announcement that "I am putting your brother down" for his nap to request some dire necessity like, "Can I have a piece of candy?" or "Can I watch a movie?" They don't really say it outloud because they know I will freak out majorly. They mouth the words very quietly.  Twelve years of this parenting job has given me quite an ability to lip-read.  The problem is that they've only been reading lips for a few years, and they can't seem to understand it when I quietly mouth "no". Why is that? Today, I just gave them my "IS this an EMERGENCY" look. They looked rather crestfallen,  but they slithered away quietly without feigning ignorance at what I was trying to say.
                   This new year is a new start for a new theme: patience. Half-pint's favorite joke in kindergarten was:
"Knock, knock!"
"Who's there? "
"Interrupting pirate"
Interrupting pirate who?" to which the other person interrupted with a big "Arrrrgh!"
I've realized the interruptions of our kids is partly a matter of impatience on their part. It's a feeling that what they have to say is more important than what anyone else has to say at the moment. Where do they get it from: their first-rate interrupting mom. I realized this even more after I majorly interrupted Charles last night, and he brought it to my attention. I always think of it as being really excited,  too excited to wait to speak; but really it boils down to rudely placing more importance on what I have to say than hearing what someone else has to say. I want to speak less this year, and listen more. I want to be understood,  but I really,  really need to work at understanding more.
           James 1:19 says, " Understand [this], my beloved brethren. Let every man be quick to hear [a ready listener], slow to speak, slow to take offense and to get angry. (The Amplified Version) I need to apply this to my own life this year (along with James 1:2-4).
          Charles and I are also starting something else new this year. We are opening our home and hosting a small group for our church. I've dreamed of having a Bible study here since we moved here, but I envisioned it being a group of women and a Beth Moore group on our porch.  Instead, it'll be with my hubby, inside our cozy home. The series is about setting goals (that only God can accomplish in you) called "Transform". I'm excited to see what God will change in me. Please pray that I will truly listen to others sharing and not play the role of the interrupting pirate. Who would want to be in that...Arrrrgh!

Do you want to hear more inspiration?  Here's a link for other mom's sharing their thoughts on fresh starts on the Hearts at Home blog hop.

Favorite Charity Winner

             The winner is Alisa. I will be donating $40 to the Peterson's for you. Thank you for participating!

Give Life

           My favorite thing in the whole world is the look on someone's face getting something they really.  That's what my favorite part of Christmas is...watching our kids open gifts we've spent months planning. I don't really do New Year's resolutions; but this year, I did. I resolved to be more generous. Joyce Meyer says that when you feel depressed you should go out and do something nice for someone else. I've had many blue days lately,  so this is my course of action.
          A friend of mine recently had a child born with Trisomy 18 (the median lifespan is 5-15 days). Her family has chosen to remain positive and celebrate every moment with her, naming her Olivia (which means "life"). I've been praying and following her story for the past few months after they found out later in her pregnancy (here's a link to their video where they tell their story in case you didn't see it on my Facebook page). They put out a request for meal help, but since I now live six hours away, I asked if those at a distance could donate money. They shared this link for those who want to donate: https://life.indiegogo.com/fundraisers/the-peterson-family

        This morning we read Isaiah 33 for school. Verse 15-16 says, "The answer is simple: live right, speak the truth, despise exploitation, refuse bribes, reject violence, avoid evil amusements. This is how you raise your standard of living! A safe and stable way to live. A nourishing, satisfying way to live." We talked about how it's not enough to just follow God's rules as Christians. We need to actively make a difference. I told the girls that I wanted to donate some money to our friend's family. I told them that they could donate with their giving money if they wanted to. Later today, one by one they gave me money that amounted to $38. I couldn't be happier! I doubled it to make it an even $80 to give away.
          This blog isn't for bragging (except on how cool God is), so why am I sharing this with you? At first, I thought I would ask you all to donate to this cause (and if God's telling you to do that, that'd be awesome), but God calls us all to different needs. Maybe you know of another need that is just as great. If you will leave a comment of your favorite charity or person in need on here or Facebook,  Mr. Blue Eye's will randomly pick a name and I will donate $40 to that charity. I know this isn't something you personally get anything out of, but just imagining the look on God's face is all the reward in the world that I could ever want.

Please join me in praying for Olivia.

Perfectly Preposterous

          There comes a day when your baby's name officially becomes an interjection (it ends in an exclamation point nine times out of ten). Our son's name has gone from being whispered with delight to being screamed in outrage and frustration, primarily by his four older sister's. As the only boy, he has an especially mischievous twinkle in his eye as he innocently grabs their most beloved toy of the moment and swipes it faster than you can blink. He also seems to be quite curious about investigating the toilet.
             I was putting away food from supper the other night while supervising the younger kids brush their teeth. (Yes, I thought I could multitask safely...I was so wrong.) I'd forgotten that toddlers need constant supervision...especially in the bathroom. Gracie screamed,  "Moooom, he has his toothbrush in the toilet!!!" I hoped she was exaggerating; but the second I saw him, I knew that it was much worse than she had said. He was brushing his teeth with toilet water! It was all I could do to calmly take away his toothbrush and call it quits for the night without gagging and dreading all the sicknesses to come. Oddly enough, he has remained healthy while three other family members have had sore throats. Maybe there was some helpful bacteria in there?
           He is the youngest , but my first boy. To my suprise (I've heard it takes boys longer), he has decided to start potty training,  which explains some of his recent fascination with the toilet and flushing it. The other night I found him cheering after flushing down the contents from his potty chair all by himself (unfortunately, he had made another large, brown deposit on the floor while congratulating himself). Mr. Blue Eyes also has the distinguished honor of being the first grandkid to sit on Nana's potty chair and somehow pee in between the seat of the potty chair and the container below it. I only discovered it when he started saying "yucky" and pulling at his soaked pants (which led to discovering the soaked socks and surrounding floor). Carrie was already wailing in my ear over her own trauma of something she had done earlier. She was convinced everyone was making fun of her because of it. Gracie entered the bathroom a second time (I had sent her out in search of a napkin once already) while I was frantically sopping up the escaped pee. She was now gagging on the food she realized she didn't like only after taking a huge bite. It had been in her mouth for several minutes to allow for the saliva to really pool. Then, the heaving began. What a fun Christmas memory, right?   
            Occasionally though, I'm the one who's laughing instead of getting grossed out. Two nights ago, Mr. Blue Eyes was hysterical and refusing to sit in his high chair. He was propped up on the edge and kept screaming, "Poop! Poop!"  On closer inspection,  I found dried taco meat in his chair. Dried taco meat bothers him, but not the receptacle that you flush the "dried taco meat" down. Boys are curious beings.      
          My word for the year is "patience", and I think so far it fits my year perfectly.  It's the one thing I'd like to develop more of in myself and in our kids. I'm using James 1:2-4 as my verse through this year. Joyce Meyer has it written out as a declaration (based on TLB) to speak like this: "I'll be happy when the way is rough, because it gives my patience a chance to grow. So I will let it grow, and not try to squirm out of my problems. For when my patience is finally in full bloom, then I will be ready for anything, strong in  character, fully complete."
           Mr. Blue Eyes is doing a swell job of giving me practice. His second birthday is right around the corner, so I think we're headed toward a fun filled year of constant supervision.  We've done this two-year-old thing before (and we've had a few struggles). Looking forward to this practice seems a tad preposterous, and still I have my hopes set high that this'll be a great year.

What's the best way you keep your busy child out of trouble?