Thoughts

I think about what I was doing on this exact day at this exact time ten years ago. Then twenty. Then thirty...

I think about what billions of people do while I blog.

I think about if I find a fly in my car and brush it out the window, where will it go next?

I think about if there is a specific amount of times I have to tell my husband that the dishes need to be rinsed of all food before they go into the dishwasher or they will never be clean and the process is worthless...or is it worthless to even try?

I think about what I will be doing in ten years.

I think about what my son is thinking when I try to explain to him that he is a boy and his sisters are a girl.

I think about if I am productive enough and if not why not? Is my mental capacity too small or is it a legitamite complaint that I have too many interruptions? Should I be doing more or less... and how do you evaluate productivity in a household? It is impossible, I think, so where do I get the satisfaction of completion? Or do I care?

I think about the person that answers the door and looks inside my world. Do I apologize for the mess? Or do I assume they understand?

I think about how much of our brain do we really use, and if it isn't very much, how do we use more of it?

I think about all the information we take in and wonder how much of it is real and how much is the telephone effect and finally how much is driven by money. I think sometimes that my job is one that was created soley for the sake of making a job for someone, and if we got rid of all the jobs that give information about what is right and wrong and study really important stuff that most of the world does not care about, would be healthier and happier? Or just poorer?

I think about how much of continuing education makes us smarter and how much makes us dumber.

I think it would be cool if I had sticks of different colors and if I touched an area with that stick, the whole uninterruped area would fill in that color of stick.

I think about the things that were said and done in this very room before I lived in this house, or this ground. Do we live where Indians lived?  Do we live on a burial ground?

I think about what my husband was doing the day I was born.

I don't ever think about aliens.

I think about what life would be like if I didn't think so much. I think I'd like it!

The Fair That I Can't Be At

Forgive me. I'm selfishly emotional again.

My niece. I knew she was before there was evidence. The same feeling I had with my own.

I prayed for normal chromosomes, a prayer God answered despite doctor's doubts.

I cheered when her mother denied the doctor a chance to even suggest abortion.

I cried when she was in inadequate daycare. I lost sleep over schooling decisions.

She was mine for a year and a half of school. It was hard. I didn't always show her how loved she was.

I might of failed her. I might have saved her. I don't know.

How many scars are there because of me?

She is beautiful, she is special, and she is darn smart. She is loved, she is judged, she is hurt. She is happy.

I took trips to see her- I would have turned my family upside down for her.

We made a poster together. She took it to the fair that I can't be at.

She was awarded a Grand Champion ribbon at the fair I can't be at.

And today I'm a little mad that she thrives without me. I'm aching to give her a hug. I'm celebrating for her. I'm letting go just a little more. I'm wondering how God will fill this void.

But He will.

Second Corinthians 1:20 tells us that "no matter how many promises God has made, they are 'yes' in Christ." Christ gave His life so God could say yes to the fulfillment of His promises in the lives of believing mortals. Therefore, I am utterly convinced that any 'no' an earnestly seeking child of God receives from the Throne is for the sake of a greater 'yes', whether realized on earth or in heaven. -Beth Moore, Believing God

Bless You!

I am convinced more and more each day of the fact that God loves beauty, and truly beautiful things bless God. God uses beauty to bless us. We bless God by expressing our gifts through beauty. Beauty and God just go together.

I am absolutely certain that chaos itself does not produce beauty. If you are unsure of this, come see my house. (I did a little experiment on the issue and went and had four kids) However, I do think we can find beauty in the chaos.

There are days that I can't provide beauty for my family. There are times that in trying to make something beautiful, I make more of a mess. (not beautiful)

I was overly tired and crampy when the meltdown began last weekend. I was being a selfish brat. I was spent and then some. And that's when I said, "I hate this house!" (opposite of beautiful)

There are a lot of reasons why I said that. Looking back, I realize the majority of the last ten years I have spent hating this house. I seldom can muster up thanksgiving for it, even when I see pictures of people in their grass huts. Some days I think I might prefer a grass hut.

But the problem is that my family and I live in this house, and I love my family. I want them to live in a blessed house, not a cursed one.

I got some sleep. I prayed a lot.

With a refreshed spirit, I stepped outside this morning and blurted out loud, "Bless this house."

I kinda shocked myself, then smiled, took a deep breath, and listed to the birds in the cool(er) morning air. I was suddenly joyful.

Doesn't attitude make a world of difference?

I was also reminded of how important it is to bless my family with my words. Words are beautiful, too.

Now, I had fantastic parents that love me very much, so please don't get me wrong. But many of my childhood memories lack spoken blessings. I was surrounded by complainers and those that compare,  and gossipers -at some point or another. I think that I am still seeing the effects of those words. I don't believe compliments easily. I have a hard time receiving other people's blessings. Words killed my hope. Thank God for His redemption.

So, even on the days that I cannot provide physical beauty for my family, on the days that I have loads of laundry to fold, nasty toilets, burnt up flowers in the yard, and I serve frozen pizza while I still have pajamas on, I can speak blessings over my family. This kind of beauty may just produce more beauty... and continue for the rest of their lives. It's like planting seeds of goodness.

And I probably shouldn't stop in my own house. People need to be encouraged.

Fill your home with beautiful words.

Individual

I heard someone recently say that we need to know the meaning of our names, because our names are not accidents. This does not surprise me because name choosing seems sacred or spiritual to me. God made us.... maybe he chose our names, too like others we read about in the Bible.

I looked mine up in several different places. You know, after years of trying to fit in and hundreds of failed expectations and so much confusion about what we are and why we are here, this exercise might teach you something about yourself... assuming we are on the same page:)

Wendi:

This one I've never seen before: light skinned. It gave me chills because I am the light skinned one in our family.

The typical answer: wanderer. I've never connected with this before, but now that I am trying to find meaning to my name, I get it. First of all my mind wanders constantly. Some people call this a disorder. I'd like to think it's my own beautiful mind. Not the smartest or most efficient, but it's mine.

One meaning of the word "wanderer" is: to move about in an irregular course; meander. I just have my own way. A little slower but oh, so meaningful. I may see things others don't. I may take on a different perspective, but it is not necessarily wrong. I was born a wanderer. This is how I am supposed to be!

And finally: friend. I gather that this is a literary meaning from Peter Pan. This tells me something of a calling, because I wouldn't say that friendship is my best quality. However, it's a challenge I'm willing to accept.
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We have done similar exercises with my children as well. I want them to know themselves and appreciate what they are, not based on fitting in, but based on their beautiful uniquenesses.
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As for my husband, Sook, the words I've found are "rock", "light" (this is actually for a Korean girl's name), and he reports that his name is "cooked" or "mature". This has changed how I view him as well.... mature and rock. Someone trustworthy and able.

I must say this again, MY husband is trustworthy and able. Add to that God's wisdom and strength, and I've got it pretty darn good!

Next week I'll be 35. It has taken this long to understand that God didn't mess up when He made me. And I have a feeling that this will change some things in my life. Taking seriously the things I enjoy. Rejecting criticism. Loving a God who looks at me and loves me for being me.

But I also am more determined to assist my children in finding the picture that God sees in them. I hope it won't take 35 years to see the joy in it.

Washing Clothes, Deep Thoughts, and Drawings From Ethiopia

On Thursday, We went to Mahaffie Farmstead and Stagecoach Stop , which was excellent hands-on review from all the pioneer stuff we've learned this year. And we were also able to check this off in our 8 Wonders of Kansas book.

Everyone said that their favorite activity was washing laundry. Oh, I wish that were true at home. Maybe we should start washing by hand....

The second favorite was the stagecoach ride.

This is the last operating stagecoach stop on the Santa Fe trail. Another treasure in our backyard that we have failed to patron until now. But I'm sure it won't be the last time!

And finally, the game "Graces".

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Yesterday I attended the Midwest Parent Educator's Homeschool Conference.

Oh man, I needed that, to be around people going through the same struggles. To calm my fears, to encourage me. I won't get everything done. I have not completely ruined my children by keeping them from the masses, which (some of ) the masses like to tell me.  And taking on homeschooling inevitably means putting my four a priority over everything else...money, cleaning, and keeping up with whomever is doing something better than I.

These are my observations, coming from a completely biased and indoctrinated mama:

1) Everyone needs to drop their stereotype of how homeschool families look. Yesterday, not one jean jumper. There may have been one, I just didn't see it. Everyone looked "normal", like as if you were in the grocery store...a good mixture of all types of people, even some mix in ethnicity. Now, I know that everyone has seen a real weird lookin' homeschooler, but I've seen 50 weird lookin' public schoolers for every homeschooler. Just sayin'.

2) The only difference than the grocery store is that everyone was smiling and kind. Probably because they were getting a break and encouragement from the actual work, but so kind none-the-less.

3) The kids that volunteered to help were so professional and curtious, and the adults were patient and curtious to them. Very refreshing after our stop at McDonald's for ice cream on Thursday.

4) I am overwhelmed with information and possibilities. Now, I realize that most people are uninformed about the homeschool resources avaliable. Just like I am uninformed with how you train for golf. I don't care at this point, so I don't choose to become informed. However, it is tiring to hear this criticism from the uninformed. Like the checkout lady that said, "I thought about homeschooling but I wanted my children to be smarter than me. I don't know everything they teach in school." Not in a question form but a don't-you-know-what-you-doing-to-your-children type of way. I have to turn down super activities and curriculum simply because I can't do it all. If I don't know something, there is always a way to figure it out.

5) What is even more important than how we look, if we practiced enough math, if we are advanced in reading, if we are in enough activities, or if we make a ton of money is that they know who they are in Christ, and not according to their teachers or peers. That they have the integrity and character to use their very personal gifts for God's glory, and to help people in need. To build a strong family support and vision for certain direction and accountability. Basically, to have the freedom to accomplish more than they could imagine under God's direction.

I am pumped. And overwhelmed....with gratitude and resopnsibility.

I love that our country thus far allows freedoms in choosing which education is right for each family, and pray that this will continue.

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And on a completely separate note, I recieved a letter from Ethiopia!!!!!

I've gotta admit, I'm one proud mama, aunt, and sponsor!

Present

I've made it very clear to everyone that we were moving- but we haven't. And might not. I can't explain it, except that I didn't really want to, but felt that is the right thing. My desire grew and out of what I thought was obedience, I looked at houses and packed up boxes, fixed up our house (mostly) and prayed. A lot. But when the time seemed to be right, I couldn't find a house. And when I did find a house, my opportunity was gone.

And it seems as though nothing has changed.

Not that it is all bad, but there are things I want so badly I could scream. Like new carpet, which I was not going to replace until the last minute that we moved....but even more importantly, time.

Evenings with my husband- even days on a regular basis. Not days every once and a while so we drop what we were going to do to hang with Daddy. I mean consistent, off the clock evenings. And involving him in our learning- not where he goes and does his thing and we are off to do ours.

A comfortable place to drop the kids off  so we get to leave. Maybe more than one date a year? Maybe time for friends?

And Ellie....there is a sense of loss as time goes by without her around.

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I have a lot more thoughts on this but I'm so tired they are not coming together. I won't lie. I'm disappointed. I want some changes in my life. Yet I am very blessed. Sometimes our desires get in the way of the view of our blessings.

Tomorrow God's mercies will be new again. Tomorrow I'll get up and do my best to build up my family, no matter what my house or my schedule looks like. I can't change the past, I don't control of my future, but I do have the present and opportunity to do my best with it. And thank God I have love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control through the Holy Spirit. I can make the best of all situations, and even bless others in the process. This is better than staying in disappointment.

Oh, that I may honor God with my present.

The Line Between Selfishness and Joyful in Grace

I have finally setteled the debate within myself that my calling to homeschool is just as much for my benefit as my children. I do believe it is good for them, based on the knowledge that I have aquired, the best at this point and time.

But it may be better for me. Some people say that they are too selfish to homeschool. I am too selfish not to.

I don't like strangers dictating my schedule. I want to be the one to choose what they learn and how they learn it based on my evaluation of them. I want to know what they have learned. I want to influence them based on our family values and beliefs throughout their learning.

But even more, what I have gained personally from this venture is better than a college degree.

Take the subject of History for example.

I thought history was memorizing a few facts and dates. Oh my word. I would have never known the difference without being involved in their learning. History is comprised of stories. Real stories that make up who we are now. I realize that it doesn't take a genius to figure this out, but if the goal is passing a test instead of actual learning, this may be the conclusion, period.

And it can be so simple. Our first stop on our way to Oklahoma last week was in Arkansas City at the Cherokee Strip Land Rush Museum. We had a "treasure hunt" to complete within the museum which was exciting in itself. We were able to actually see so many of the things we had already studied or read about, like the yoke for calves Almonzo got for his birthday. As I explained it to the girls, another young boy walking by said, "Hey, I'm not the only one that read 'Farmer Boy'!". We saw a blacksmith's station, anvil, bellow, and all. But my most exciting find was a telegraph after learning about Morse Code.

The prize they got for completing the treasure hunt was a Cherokee Rose rock that is found at the end of the "trail of tears"

One rock, that forms dozen of questions.
Like, "Why were they so sad? Why did they cry?"
Which also set a platform for our visit to the Chickasaw Nation and Standing Bear Park.

"Why did they have to move?"
"What was it like?"
"Why did they get in trouble when they left the reservation?"
"Why wouldn't white people think Indians weren't human?"

But what I saw from both of these adventures was not staying in tears but persevering and determining to hold on to their culture yet embracing the present to work out what it best for their people. I am not saying I agree with everything, but I have the utmost respect for a group of people that stand for what is right, and are willing to share it with anyone willing to learn.

If you were to ask my children about our Oklahoma stay, they would probably tell you that there is red dirt in Oklahoma.

They would also say that we got to swim in the hotel.
And they might mention that they got to dance with "real Indians".

Even though it may not come to mind, I believe we all have a better idea what Oklahoma, meaning "Red People" in Choctaw, is all about.

And in my own life, and my children's, history seems to settle uneasiness about who we are as well. My children have felt uncomfortable when they are the only ones with brown skin. I have been frustrated with being a Mennonite farmer's daughter. But History changes things. It improves understanding, it increases appreciation, and it gives a satisfaction to who we are. And it even challenges us to ask, "why am I here, at this time, with this history?"

Why did God call me to homeschool? I don't think it was because he wanted me to indulge in my selfish desires. I think he might have given me this challenge based on my history and personality, knowing it is what is best for me...and my family.

Big Fat "F"

I have decided that if anyone should ask me how to prepare for parenthood, my answer would be this:

Prepare to be a failure.

 

Get used to failing. Learn how to deal with it. It is inevitable.... every day.

Boy, I sure hope someone else is saying "amen" to this. Otherwise I'm a complete idiot.

 

I guess now that I've put it out there, I need to explain myself a little.

I don't mean that you shouldn't try- in fact, you should fail because you tried.

Embrace your failures. Make friends with them. Distant friends that you are not too comfortable with but comfortable enough that you can laugh with them.

Failures happen to me all the time. I know they could dog pile me and leave me scared and bruised, but they could also build my courage and increase my knowledge.

Know your failures. Pray over them. Determine to conquer them.

As best you can, stay away from those that exploit them and use them for their own show. Instead, find honest parents that will identify with the failures of parenthood. I always appreciate that- to know it's normal. Because there is always someone that looks like he or she has it all together...but here's a secret.....they don't. So here is a list of some of mine so you can feel better about yours.

• Some days I am too tired to think, literally. I stand in the middle of the room and for the life of me try to remember something- anything I should be doing. Even if it is to make a pot of coffee.
• Some days my kids are forced to make their own sandwiches or noodles for lunch. Sometimes it's frozen pizza.
• Most days my kids wake me up.
• Since giving birth almost nine years ago, my entire house has not been clean. Ever. Maybe a room or two, but never everything. And it gets much worse with each child.
• As much as I try not to, I yell at them.
• I stopped getting Better Homes and Gardens because my goals have decreased from the featured home to "must vacuum today."
• Even though I spend most days with my children, I often go to bed wishing I had done one more thing for them or with them, and wish there was something I had not said or done.
• Sometimes we wear dirty clothes for lack of clean ones.
• Today, instead of doing a lesson with Brooke, I did a short quiz to determine that it was not necessary and then let her go play.
• I don't always keep my word because I forget that I said it.
• I always run out of clean spoons.
• I have left the garage door open all night before.
• And forgotten to pay some bills.
• And I always, always forget the name of the child whom I am speaking to.
• They fight alot.
• Sometimes in front of strangers.
• They do not have perfect table manners, they don't wear matching clothes, they whine, and often say or do something to embarrass me.
• And there are days that all of this wears on me, and I cry.

But I have the assurance that God still loves me. He knows my heart. He knows. And thank God my husband never rubs my failures in my face. For that, I feel blessed.

And I know that all of these things will work together for me and my family, becuase I love God, and because he has a purpose for me. Part of that purpose is to be the best darn mama possible.

Prepare to fail, and watch how God turns your failures into successes.
 

Sometimes I Wonder......

How I get anything done.

Cleaning the refrigerator is fairly mindless so I start thinking too much. My to-do list is a self-inflicted mile long list of ambitions that I am determined to accomplish sooner or later, all jumbled up in my head and piled on stacks of random pieces of paper and in journals that I may or may not find when I need it. Or I might find it when I don't need it and put it in another pile.

Take this blog, for example. I started with it thinking that I would record our family adventures and lessons learned, but it has turned out to be about whatever I am passionate about that day. This could be anything because I am passionate about almost anything in one form or another, depending on the day. So although I have tried to stay focused. I need a focus. I can't choose a focus.

Eclectic.
What is one word that describes me?

What are the service people that come into my home thinking?

I stopped cleaning for them. It was too stressful. And they always end up having to do something somewhere that is not clean. My children always embarrass me. Like when Brooke said, "Mommy! I don't like that man!" a few years ago. And I think it may be the wrong thing to lock them in a closet. If I ever did, surely the service person would need something in that closet.

That was sarcasm, by the way.

Today it was Max dancing in front of the computer with the Go Fish You Tube Mix. He's quite a pro. Summer and Brooke were fighting, and Savannah was just goofy.

He left saying, "you have some great kids."

*chuckle*. Whether he meant it or not, his kind comment put me at ease.

Why did I never love History before?

We just learned about Robert Fulton, the inventor of the Steamboat, so I took the family to the Steamboat Arabia Museum today. Talk about history. The largest pre-civil war collection of artifacts in the world. We read about the steamboats, we researched the history on the Arabia, and then went to the museum. This is how my children learn best. And me, too for that matter.

This is the actual tree that pierced the steamboat, causing it to sink over 150 years ago.

This is the skeleton of the mule that drowned on the boat, the one thing that Brooke will definitely remember.

I left being fascinated with the 1850's. Immediately we went over to Kansas City's "Chinatown". And got lost strolling down the isles and studying every box of these unfamiliar foods, loving a new environment, fish smell and all. I bought tea.

Then we ate Vietnamese food. Love that too. Yes, I love history and culture. And don't ask me to pick just one time period or one ethnic group to fall in love with.

How do I make leave in conditioner?
Random thought.

What has caused my "princess" Summer collect toy snakes?
Even the rubber ones scare me. I'd love to know what goes on in her head. I'm fascinated with snakes, too in a they-are-cool-but-way-too-creapy kind of way. I like them at the zoo, behind glass.

How in the world do I emotionally handle my blessings?
My kids get so giddy that they run around and dance and giggle until I go crazy. That is what is going on in my head, yet I am just there on the outside. The last few days I have been overwhelmed with nervous excitement over one thing or another. I feel like I won the lottery but now that I know what I have, I don't know what to do with it. Not a bad problem to have. However, it needs to be resolved.

I really do need to get some things done.

What I Want My Kids To Know About Love

To: My Children

Love.
The first thought that pops in mind is romantic love. Fairy tales, soul mates, chocolate hearts and first kisses. This is not real love.

Next, maybe kindness? Giving gifts? Service? Some times these are the effects of love, but it is not love.

"All we need is LOVE".... somewhat true. At least it's a nice fuzzy feel good thing to say. True love, however, is not fuzzy.

True love is not always hearts and kisses and skipping in a meadow. True love is ugly at times, incredibly strong, and literally impossible. The quest of possessing complete and perfect love is a noble ambition, but you will fail. Shoot for it anyway. And whenever you begin to stray, remember you have storerooms of love to take and give- not from your own heart, but from God himself. This is the only true love.

If you take on this ambition and if you keep your mind on Christ, you will begin to see what true love asks. It asks of you hugs of joy and tears of unthinkable pain. It asks complete blindness to faults. It demands you to be vulnerable. It asks you to be treated unfairly- and to take it. It asks you to give favor to the ones that deserve it the least. To eat food that isn't pleasant to your tongue. To smell a ghastly stench and keep a smile on your face. To be made a fool of and be kind anyway.

It is not romantic, and sometimes down right miserable.

You cannot give what you don't have, so receive the love God gave. Every last bit. Then fight anything that might try to take it away.

And in the end, you will love having love. The pain will be memories of joy. And you will be victorious.

Love your family. We need each other.
Love your fellow Christians. We are family in the spirit.
Love your friends. Not only when they are friendly or when they benefit you, just love all the time.
Love strangers. Your kindness might change someone.
Love enemies. This is the hardest, but the effects are the greatest. And hate will destroy you.

Finally, don't try to love. It won't work.
God is love, and God is in you, so the love you need you already possess in you. And if you already possess true love:

You are patient. You are kind.

You don't envy and do not brag. You are not proud.

You are polite, and are not selfish.

You have self control, and can give grace to pardon the wrong things done against you.

You are saddened with sin and joyful with truth.

You can persevere through anything without anticipating failure.

You encourage even when it hurts, and don't stop until the end.

Sometimes love is pictured with hearts and kittens. I don't think you can't draw love. It's too mixed up. But one thing I know is it's not for the weak. Weak people will exhibit the opposite of love and call it strength.

You have love, and you are a warrior. If you want anything meaningful from the life, you must accept this blessing.

Not That Different

I've been going through some struggles lately. It's those kind that make me want to turn off the resounding verses of "don't repay evil for evil", or "love those that persecute you". The kind that make you want to be a Christian when it's convenient. When all is well, living the Christian life seems easy. But what Christ has asked of me these last few months went against every grain in my carnal body.

Interestingly enough, it is my children's devotions and lessons that have kept me on course. I mean, it's fitting for them as well but if I am expected to teach them how to give grace, I have to live it. And I do want them to learn it, not only for their sake by mine as well. I don't like refereeing disagreements over who looked at whom wrong, or whom has to be the prince in their play. Getting even just doesn't seem appropriate after that lesson is thrown in my day.

It is easier to see when it is someone else's fight and my emotions are not involved. Petty, childish, fights that cause way more damage than any fulfillment. They have a familiar feel to the fights that my three little girls bring to my world. Whenever I step back and really think, grace always is more attractive. I really don't care what it is- unless your fight has a purpose for the greater good and is more sacrificing than a way to feed your pride. And even then, grace should be involved. Love. Wanting to help the one that hurt you. Exhibiting the love of Christ himself. Tough stuff.

One lesson today was being connected to Jesus- the Vine. Then our fruit (of the spirit) will be healthy. Yes. It wasn't even try really really hard to show me the fruit of the spirit. Muster up the love you need to smile and keep your mouth shut. Write a cheery Facebook post so that everyone will think you have joy. Write a big check and tell God to chalk that one up to kindness. No. The fruit of the spirit is a by product of a relationship with Jesus. And the fruit of the spirit doesn't just get you by- it ensures victory. This victory is not over another person, but over the anger, the unrest, the manipulations, the pride, and the discouragement.

Being close to Jesus does not make dealing with hard situations non existent, but it gives resources to fight the real enemy- which is not a human. If you are filled with the Holy Spirit, you have the fruit of the spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, goodness, and self control. Whether you choose to go with your spirit or your flesh is still your choice to choose.

As for me, I know people are watching, wondering how I will respond. People that I really do love and I want them to know how much Jesus loves them. My anger will not show them that, and it may really confuse my kids.

Lesson learned. When my children are fighting, I know what they feel like. I know it is not "nothing" to them. The best way I can calm them down is to remind them how much they are loved- by myself and by God. Then they are in a position to give grace.

And for myself........exactly the same thing.

My Guy

It was a day of mixed emotions, jumbled up plans, disorganization, and unrest. After lunch I decided continuing in this manner just won't do, so I put on a movie, went to my room, and shut the door.

Some days are just like that.

I wasn't sure if I would take a power nap or pray or just think. I started to doze after ten minutes or so when Max opened the door and let himself in.

"Mommy?" He interrupted politely. "I want a kiss."
"O.K. Max."
After receiving permission, he flashed a huge smile and ran over to my beside. *kiss*
"You go to sleep. O.K. Mommy?"
"O.K."

He ran to the door and shut it behind him. One half second later he opened it.
"Mommy? I want a hug."
"O.K. Max."
He ran over again. *hug*.
I gave him another kiss on the cheek.
"No, Mommy. You already kiss me."
"O.K. Max."
"Mommy, you go to sleep."
"O.K."
He ran back to the door and shut it. And opened it.


"Mommy? I sleep with you?"
"O.K. Max." I giggle.
"Move. I sleep on pillow."
"Max! This is my pillow. What am I going to use?"
He ran to his room and brought his pillow. "You use that one." I obliged.
He laid down and pretended to sleep.
I did the same thing.
"No! You can't smile." He didn't like my fake sleeping.

Then he put my face in his hands, tilted my head back, and looked up my nose.
"No boogers." he reported.

He got out of bed and picked up my journal.
"Here your facebook".
"Thank you."

He ran to his room and brought his favorite book, "Away in the Manger".
"You read my facebook".

So I did. About ten times.

Sometimes I wonder why I was ever upset or nervous about having a fourth child. I just can't imagine life any other way.

The Love Of Children

As I mentioned yesterday, I read "Heaven is For Real" for kids. One of the main themes was that Jesus really, really, really loves children. As I was reading this to my girls, I look up to see Max climbing to the very top of his easel, about 4 feet off the ground, flashing my an ornery grin. And I told myself, "Jesus really loves children".

I've told myself that many times today.

Jesus loves children when they are too giggly and rowdy to pay attention. Jesus loves children when they spill spaghetti on the floor. Jesus loves children when they are dancing silly. Jesus loves children when they climb up the back of the couch and flip over- over and over and over again.

Jesus loves children when they insist on making snow ice cream even when there is only a fourth of an inch of snow on the ground, and experimenting with flavorings and food colorings. Jesus loves children when they have to play in the running bathtub water. Jesus loves children when they pick all the flowers in my back yard. Jesus loves children when they scream with glee at the sunset. Jesus loves children when they play with their parents and say, "doagain" one hundred times.

Jesus loves their innocence, their weakness, their sense of wonder, their trust, their lack of coordination, and their appreciation for the little things.

Some of the things that can frustrate me the most is what Jesus loves the most.

Children are a privilege, not a burden.

God, help me to love children like you do.

For Real

Today I read the kid's version of "Heaven is for Real" to my children. I cried. I always cry during things like that so Savannah had to finish it for me.

It hit me how I marveled at a three-year old's account of heaven and the similarities of it's description in the Bible. Why would I marvel at that?

I mean, it's all right there in the Bible, the book that I claim to take as God's word. This has happened since college. Before that, I don't know if I had an actual conversation with God. More like, "I know He's out there.......somewhere...." And then when I really needed Him He showed up and it shocked me.

We see the things of God as mysteries. And some things He has kept mysterious to us. However, so many things are plain as day on the pages in front of me. God is for real. God's love is for real. The hugeness of God is for real. The wonderfulness of God is for real.

Yet it is so hard for me to just accept. As I've pondered these things I've concluded we've been lied to so much and have not questioned those lies that the real truth is so unreal. We pray and ask God to fix our problems and immediately doubt that he'll answer us. Yet we get mad at God when it looks like He didn't. Who lies to us? Satan. The author of lies. It says so in the Bible. Satan is for real.

Do you know why I cry when I read about how much God loves me? Because it's so hard for me to believe. I've done some bad things in my life. On my own, I am certainly not worthy of my relationship with God. But really the lies I've been told were nothing about what I've done, rather whom I was. And what do those lies accomplish? Stopping mighty things dead in their tracks.

Now I know God has done and will do mighty things through me, as anyone who is willing. But if I had not overcome the lies, I would be easily defeated. But God is big, and he already won so I don't have anything to fear. It says so in the Bible.

Believing lies hides our immense blessings. When compared to many in the world and even more in our history, I've got to be in the .001% of the most blessed people ever born. And with that comes responsibility. But unless I realize this, I cannot take that responsibility.

But even if I wasn't living in these blessings, I still would have the benefits of salvation available to me, which is worth more than ten million bucks.

And that is why complaining is so offensive to God (the Bible says so).

So what I want is to live as though nothing God has told me comes as a surprise because it is reality. And anything that is contrary to God's promises is what I doubt. I want to stop crying whenever God speaks to me, because that is what He does. And I want my children to learn to expect answered prayers, victories, and the realizations of their life as an adopted child of God. For if I live like that, they will more likely see it as real.

I want to know what is real.

January

I love a new year. Time to realign a few things.

My kids were complaining about how boring school is. Yikes. I have spent a bunch of time this last six months on the house and less on making school fun. And just in case you are wondering- yes, I think it should be. But then again, life happens.

For instance, yesterady we studied Vermont. Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream is based out of Vermont. So guess what we had for dessert? We also bought pure maple syrup.

Can you believe I have not been to my home town zoo since before my children were born? I've been to many zoos. Just not this one. I think that I've been so timid to take everyone out by myself to places I'm not familiar with. A few days ago I realized that they are older now and that maybe I should be a little more adventurous. And I'm glad I was. Today was grand.

And one more thing. I've said it before and I'll say it again. After my brain darn near explodes from dreaming and planning and prioitizing, what really matters is that my home is a comfort to my family. Not let's see how much math we can do or how super mom-ish I can be (total phasad, by the way) just let's bring up happy kids with a strong mind and compassionate heart.

I know that hard knocks make a person stronger, but I don't believe that it is the intention. It's not plan A. It is simply making the best out of a not so perfect situation. I believe a strong mind starts with security. Extra long hugs in the morning. Positive outlooks. Filling love tanks. High expectations implemented with loads of grace. These are the things that will prepare little lives for the inevidable hard knocks. This is what really matters.

So this year I simply want to lay the foundation and see where it takes us.

Spaghetti

No. This is not a recipe.

It's way too late and I should be sleeping but even if I'm not sleeping I should be doing something else.

I've been away too long. I started school last week but in my mother's house and that is never the same as here so I should have a good idea of what I'm going to eat and how this will all go down tomorrow and how I'm going to fit in a few stops for shopping.

And I don't want to think about money but if I'm shopping I have to and then I start re-writing the entire budget in my mind because it does need to be done at some point but if I started now I'd be up till 3.

My husband tentatively is working 16 hour days for the next three weeks and getting four or five hours of sleep a night so I feel super guilty for being strung out with my eight- maybe seven relaxing hours of sleep and wishing he was here to help. Yet so very thankful he has work and can work.

My heart aches at the injustices in the world and stories of hate and even worse "Christians" showing hate and the little children and babies unwanted and oh how I want one and what am I thinking? Yet excitement for how God works and wants awesome things done.

The day has arrived. I found four grey hairs. It's been a year since I've done anything significant to my hair and every month I think I've gotta get this done and it's certainly not getting anything done before February since I will be with my kids 24/7 as usual yet more since Sook is not available.

And I really should do something about exercise.

And we are adding French and more field trips and hands on crafts and Brooke is finally ready to start her curriculum and Max needs a sensory box or something and he also insists on doing his math every day since everyone else does.

And my Christmas tree is still up.

Spaghetti. Savannah and I both have to do this cause her mind is just as wound up as mine. Just let go of all the worries and tension and be spaghetti.

One night I tried this and instantly I saw myself just lying there in cup-shaped palm of a super sized hand, not worried about anything because my complete trust was in that hand. It carried me over the mountains and oceans and through the sky. I felt like I was six again. It was nice.

So good night. Time for me to become spaghetti. Right after my shower.

Ten Things To Be Happy About

I started out the day kinda feeling sorry for myself. I think it was because I wrote about how blessed I was last night.

I got the chance to battle this in alone time with God this afternoon. I'm better now.

So I have ten things that have made me happy today:

1) My camera works again!! I knew I had to give it one last try, and it came through. My pictures were even still on it. That makes me happy!

2) My husband is fun. Once and a while I have flashbacks from a few years ago when I was ready to leave at any given afternoon because he was so miserable to be around. I just does not happen anymore. It makes me love him so much more when he's fun!

3) Chocolate.

4) Max has requested to do math the past few days. He is so proud of himself because he can do math like his sisters. And I am proud to say that my son knows what his shapes are.

5) Poinsettias. Especially the glittery ones.

6) The fact that I am preparing Christmas cards to send. They are glittery too. I have gotten out of that habit since....probably since I had kids. I just hope they actually get sent.

7) The Internet that has dozen or so resources (that I know and trust) I can go to when I need a good word. Or a song.

8) My three little angels that are a part of Christmas plays and talent shows. I'm so glad we're free to celebrate Christmas!

9) My niece, who has been on my mind since I saw her last Sunday. People have choices to make that will make all the difference. I'm thankful that she is learning that she does have a choice, and I'm seeing it change her each time we meet.

10) Hope in the promise that there is more to come, bigger tasks to accomplish, better lives to live.

Favorite

I was just scrolling through my blog and realized that I've been talking a lot about Summer lately.

You would think she is my favorite.

Well, she is.

She is my favorite to go shopping with. She is my favorite to get hugs from. To kiss on the cheek, to cook with, and to dress up real pretty.

But then there's Max, my baby boy. He's my favorite, too. I mean, he's my baby! And he's a boy! He loves to cuddle while watching music videos. He is very opinionated, which is stinkin' cute for a two year old. He really loves having me around. He steals my heart.

Who can top your first-born, though? Savannah is definitely my favorite. Her mind is always churning, thinking of how she will do everything. She wants to learn- we learn together! We are a great team. I could not home school without her. She is a self learner and is turning out to be a great teacher as well. I dread the day she will grow up and leave me.

My heart aches for my niece, Ellie. I long for the day that I can be only 10 minutes away from her instead of 2.5 hours. She remembers everything! She loves to serve, and she remembers the important details for each individual. It's so fun to see her take all her random thoughts and put them together into a meaningful conclusion. Watching her grow is exciting for me. She is my favorite.

However, my life would not be complete without my Brookie Boo. She is the one who cuddles up so nicely on the couch each morning. She gets my day started with her reports about which of her songs were played on Klove during the night. She is off the wall spunk that might just annoy some people. But I am her mother so I find it pure joy. I cherish the look on her face when I say, "Brooke, you are my favorite."

When I consider how much I love each of my children, I am aware that they are not special. Each child is so unique and beautiful. They are treasures, that when allowed, will bless all kinds of different hearts. But it must be allowed and reflected back in order for them to know this about themselves.

I once heard it said that when an adult encounters a child, the child needs to see that adult face light up. Yet it is so easy for me appear unaffected at times. How do my children and other children see themselves through me?

And how often I need to be reminded that we are God's children. Even the people that tick me off, annoy me or hurt me. They are their Father's favorite. You are His favorite. Everyone has value, but it is sometimes hard to see if they are not treated valued. What a tragedy for them not to know. What a crime it is when I make other's feel worthless.

During my oxymoron struggle between mercy and prophesy, love and judgement, I see that people may once and a while be open to loving correction, but judgement mostly turns people away. This is especially true since I am far from perfect myself. An attitude of love, mercy, and grace is the best way to positively influence people- my children, other children, annoying co-workers, and discouraged friends. For they are all God's favorite.

Characters

As I paint my kitchen cabinets, I chuckle. I could never make money doing this sort of thing because I mess up and then like it. It's character.

Chipped paint.
Worn hard wood floors.
Dingy fabrics.
Dusty books.
Obvious brush strokes.
Real. Usable. Personable.

I love imperfection. If that is what you call it. Perhaps it's actually perfection.

My body also has character. Scars, laugh lines (or mad lines), worn hands, evidence of childbearing. Clothing might accentuate individual beauty, but cannot take the place of it. Everyone has something beautiful to bless the world with. Living artwork.

Grey hairs.
Colorful eyes.
Freckles.
Dirty smiles.
Proper salutations.
Gut wrenching sobs.
Priceless expressions.
Real. Usable. Personable.

Have you ever envied wrinkles? I have.

But there is something to be seen that cannot be seen with a glance of the eye. Something that could never be faked. It is only produced when pushed, beaten, broken, swept away, restored, failed, renewed, chipped, scraped, pulled, tattered, stained, and washed. That is the most beautiful character of all. It can make the ugliest specimen breathtaking.

Hope.
Joy.
Love.
Wisdom.
Gentleness.
Inspiration.
Real. Usable. Personable.

I hope my children grow up to be characters. I mean that.

How do you make characters? I'm pretty sure the best way is to fill them with God-inspired expectation. Big dreams, big responsibilities, big results and cheer lead to the very end. Life will then do the rest.

Thanks.

Thank you, God

For November. Halloween is over and I still had 1 1/2 days of gorgeous weather before the rain comes. Thanks for our windy picnic yesterday and extensive play time.

Thank you for this disastrous house. Thank you that my husband has so much work that we haven't completed our to-do list yet. Thank you for our vision to sell it and move, the reason why all of the cabinet doors are off the hinges. Thank you that my cabinets have doors. Thank you for the four children that are constantly needing to eat and wear clothes. Thank you for the food and clothes. Thank you for the chance to stay at home and to homeschool, which multiplies my messes.

Thank you for our lunch of banana bread, apples, sunflower nuts, and peas. Thank you that my kids insist on peas...and can/want to prepare them. Even if they insist on half frozen half cooked. Thank you for the freezer and the microwave. Thank you that even though I didn't have the time to take the kids grocery shopping this morning, there was something that they would eat.

Thank you for the dozens of drawings that are piling high. Thank you that my kindergartner has finally mastered cutting out her drawings. Thank you that my seven year old measures flour for me. Thank you that my two year old puts shoes on and takes them off in random places, and that he is proud of his tall Lego tower. Thank you that they want to write out the lyrics to their Christmas songs, and that they love to play Monopoly. Thank you that my third grader loves math so much that it consumes a huge part of my day. Thank you that she can help clean.

Thank you for friends that call me to tell me happy news, or text me with a random thought. Thank you for e-mail and Facebook so that, even when I am stuck in this house, I can still communicate with the outside world. Thank you for the computer so that I can write during quiet time. Thank you that you said, "Love the Lord God with all your heart, soul, and mind and .... love your neighbor as yourself." and not, "Thou shall keep your house neat at all times."

Thank you for the pajamas that I am still in. Most of all, thank you that through all of this you will always love me, always give me the best for me, even when I fail miserably. Thank you that I don't feel guilt and shame. Thank you for being a great best friend. Thank you for being a savior, encourager, a mentor, and a provider. Thank you that I can love you.