I am, as designed by my Creator, a sentimental person. Scraps of this and that, letters and cards, deflated mylar balloons, along with pictures in albums with space for writing our adventures- all of these things tell our life story. Over the years I have learned to pare it down so that we don't have a mountain of scraps, but we treasure those things that are most precious and important.
Now to our collection I can add my son's Awana Cubbies vest. It is complete. After two years of going to Awana faithfully every Sunday night from August until late May (with the exception of 3 evenings when sickness or icy conditions kept us from our fun), our son has said every verse and earned every patch. He has hopped and jumped his way through Cubbies.
The shirt which was a little big to begin with will soon be outgrown. His bag which held his book, crafts, and dues will find a new home along with his vest. Oh, the vest which looked like it would take forever to fill with patches is now full with room for no more and has more than one stain that this momma cannot get out. Two years passed in a blink.
Funny, I didn't shed a tear nor come close to it last night. He's growing into such a fine boy; I don't feel the sadness of the time gone by. I feel joy. He's becoming who God has called him to be. He's reached another milestone. He's no longer a Cubbie, but a Spark. He was so excited at this 'graduation', how could I be anything but joyful at his accomplishment?
This is his first of many graduations, good LORD's willing, in his future. I don't see it as an end. I see this as a beginning. He's beginning his adventures of being an elementary schooler. He is continuing the adventure of who he will become.
There are times I think back to his infancy and toddlerhood and miss those days. In some ways, I miss those days; in many ways, he's still who he was then. He still loves to snuggle in my lap under a blanket and read. He still loves to work along side his daddy.
When I get too sentimental, I remind myself, "This is the best stage ever!" It helps me to remember and rejoice in the new skills that he's mastered. It keeps me in check not to hurry through this stage (as trying as it can be, another and more trying one is sure to be around the corner).
Reminding myself, "This is the best stage ever!" helps me savor the moment.
Now, I cannot promise that I will shed no tears on the other milestones, for I am certain that I will cry. My children will have many milestones that will bring such joy that tears fill my eyes. And that's why I'll cry- not because my babies are no longer babies but because they are becoming all that God has called them to be one milestone at a time.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
"Now, Don't Y'all Rush Off....."
"Now, don't y'all rush off....You don't have to be in such a hurry...."
I don't know how many times my Papa said that during the thirty years that I had with him. Whether I'd stayed for days with Nana and him, which was my custom when I was a teenager or whether I'd stayed an afternoon, he'd always say those parting words.
He's in heaven now. He's been there for one year, four months, seven days and twelve hours. I wish I could hear him say them again. I know that one day I'll see him again and I won't have anywhere to go or anything to do but sit with him in the company of our LORD.
Sometimes it feels like so much longer than sixteen months since he went Home. And it seems as if he were in a rush to get there. Of course, I know the good LORD has everyone's time appointed. Still, it felt like the years with him went by too quickly.
I can honestly say that in all those years I never rushed my time with him. Listening to his stories, enjoying him playing his guitar and singing, or simply sitting in the silence next to him and just being- I loved being in his presence.
Papa is not my first grandparent who has gone on to his reward. It's just that he was the closest one that has gone on. As the years pass by, I realize my time with my other grands on this earth is slipping by, and when I say, 'grands' I am including my husband's grands, too. We've been married so long, it's easy to forget which one is 'his' and which one is 'mine.'
I really should go see them all more, should take the children to love on them and be loved by them. How precious it is to have the connection to one's grandparents, but to also be blessed enough to know one's great-grandparents, now that is truly a gift.
For some stupid reason I've worried about bringing the little ones in on the great-grands' quiet. We're loud. We're messy. We're hungry. ('We' meaning my kids.) I don't want to impose our boisterousness on them. For some reason a cloud of dust, diapers, and toys seems to follow us wherever we go. And no matter what my kids have eaten they're always ready to eat again when we go see any of the grands, especially the great-ones.
Maybe my kids know something I don't. Maybe they realize that the silence needs to be filled with their young, happy voices. Hushed tones, be gone! The great-grands appreciate the music of their little voices!
Make shift toys littering the floor- clunky purses, slippers, old hats- delight the great-grands. Perhaps it's a reminder of when they were young. Or maybe when their kids were young. Or maybe when their grandkids were young. And they get to relive those happy times, no matter how briefly again.
And, empty (or suspiciously empty) bellies are heartily welcomed and filled by great-grands. There always is something especially delicious (even if we have the same thing at home) to be enjoyed on the lap of a great-grand. Maybe that's the difference- not what they're eating but where they're eating it.
No longer will I feel guilty that we've broken the silence; that's what they want. No longer will I feel guilty that we're messy; they never mind. No longer will I feel guilty that they've made something for us to eat; they enjoy filling tummies.
No, we will go. We will be loud. We will make messes (within reason and pick up after ourselves). We will eat. Because one day they will have gone to their rewards and we will miss those times. We will linger a little longer. We will not rush at all.
I don't know how many times my Papa said that during the thirty years that I had with him. Whether I'd stayed for days with Nana and him, which was my custom when I was a teenager or whether I'd stayed an afternoon, he'd always say those parting words.
He's in heaven now. He's been there for one year, four months, seven days and twelve hours. I wish I could hear him say them again. I know that one day I'll see him again and I won't have anywhere to go or anything to do but sit with him in the company of our LORD.
Sometimes it feels like so much longer than sixteen months since he went Home. And it seems as if he were in a rush to get there. Of course, I know the good LORD has everyone's time appointed. Still, it felt like the years with him went by too quickly.
I can honestly say that in all those years I never rushed my time with him. Listening to his stories, enjoying him playing his guitar and singing, or simply sitting in the silence next to him and just being- I loved being in his presence.
Papa is not my first grandparent who has gone on to his reward. It's just that he was the closest one that has gone on. As the years pass by, I realize my time with my other grands on this earth is slipping by, and when I say, 'grands' I am including my husband's grands, too. We've been married so long, it's easy to forget which one is 'his' and which one is 'mine.'
I really should go see them all more, should take the children to love on them and be loved by them. How precious it is to have the connection to one's grandparents, but to also be blessed enough to know one's great-grandparents, now that is truly a gift.
For some stupid reason I've worried about bringing the little ones in on the great-grands' quiet. We're loud. We're messy. We're hungry. ('We' meaning my kids.) I don't want to impose our boisterousness on them. For some reason a cloud of dust, diapers, and toys seems to follow us wherever we go. And no matter what my kids have eaten they're always ready to eat again when we go see any of the grands, especially the great-ones.
Maybe my kids know something I don't. Maybe they realize that the silence needs to be filled with their young, happy voices. Hushed tones, be gone! The great-grands appreciate the music of their little voices!
Make shift toys littering the floor- clunky purses, slippers, old hats- delight the great-grands. Perhaps it's a reminder of when they were young. Or maybe when their kids were young. Or maybe when their grandkids were young. And they get to relive those happy times, no matter how briefly again.
And, empty (or suspiciously empty) bellies are heartily welcomed and filled by great-grands. There always is something especially delicious (even if we have the same thing at home) to be enjoyed on the lap of a great-grand. Maybe that's the difference- not what they're eating but where they're eating it.
No longer will I feel guilty that we've broken the silence; that's what they want. No longer will I feel guilty that we're messy; they never mind. No longer will I feel guilty that they've made something for us to eat; they enjoy filling tummies.
No, we will go. We will be loud. We will make messes (within reason and pick up after ourselves). We will eat. Because one day they will have gone to their rewards and we will miss those times. We will linger a little longer. We will not rush at all.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
If Not Us, Then Who?
The other day I received a message from a relative expressing concern over teaching our children about God and encouraging them to have a relationship with Jesus. "Wasn't I worried," the message asked, "that they would rebel against what we were teaching them?"
I stopped and pondered that question.
Yes, I do wonder sometimes if our children will rebel against what we're teaching them and then I stop and ask my Heavenly Father, who loves them more than I ever could, to put a hedge of protection around them. I ask Him for them to find Him early in life and to love and serve Him all the days of their lives. My husband and I fervently desire for our children not to just identify themselves as a Christian. Many people claim that and don't live it out. Our goal is for them to have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ and to identify themselves as a Christ- follower.
I do not worry because God promises that His Word will not return void. Meaning, that if we share His Word that He will take care of the rest. I also take comfort with the promise that if we train up our child in the way he should go, when he is old he will not depart from it. I claim these promises over all my children.
The very best we can do is to train our kids, to teach them- through example- that what we say we believe aligns with how we actually live our lives. We also pray with all our might that they will desire a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. A real, true, authentic, genuine relationship with Him.
We cannot NOT teach our children to have a relationship with Him. God is very clear in His Word-
"And thou shalt love the LORD thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might. And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be as frontlets between thine eyes. And thou shalt write them upon the posts of thy house, and on thy gates." ~Deuteronomy 6:5-9
God cannot make it any clearer. As their parents, it is our God-given responsibility to teach them to love Him with all their hearts, souls, and might. He has given us a direct command. There are no 'maybe's' or 'shoulds' or 'you might considers'. We are to teach them every moment of the day.
That doesn't mean life is one big, long lecture of what our kids should and shouldn't do. Rather, it is a conscious effort to teach them about God every moment that we can- to look for the teachable moments.
Sometimes, it's as my son and I snuggle before his sister wakes up and Daddy's left in the morning that we pray for Daddy's safety as he goes to work. Other times, it's seeing something really cool in nature and talking about what an awesome Creator God is. Sometimes, it's a lesson in forgiveness, grace, redemption.
In our journey as a homeschooling family, we are looking for ways in which to draw even closer to God. What we're doing is contrary to most of society. And there are times this choice can be lonely. What we're doing is viewed as 'weird' or 'extreme' by many. And we want our children to identify themselves in Jesus, not the world says we are. What we are doing is a huge leap of faith. And we want our kids to learn to live by faith, not by sight.
So, we invite God into our homeschool every day. We ask Him to bless our time and our efforts. And, privately, I've been asking God to reveal more ways to teach my kids about Him.
How could I incorporate more time spent reading from His Word? The answer was quite simple- reading the Bible as we had breakfast. We've been reading a Proverb according to the day, maybe a Psalm depending on how long our son eats. We definitely read a Bible lesson (I don't like the word 'story', which implies it's made up. The Bible is absolute Truth.) before reading, 'riting, and 'rithmetic begin. And for quite some time now we read the Bible before bed. (We often use a children's Bible with lots of pictures.)
This has been a really neat experience for us. First, our time is stretched so much. We are finding that we get much more done when we get our priorities straight. The tone in our home is different. We are not focused on ourselves. Our conversations are deep. (Proverbs 10:1, for example- "The proverbs of Solomon. A wise son maketh a glad father: but a foolish son is the heaviness of his mother." This lead to a five minute discussion on words such as wise, foolish, heaviness- with our five year old. I could almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he chewed on these words and their meaning as he was literally chewing his poptart.)
Exposing our children to the Bible only during church time would lead to disasterous results; they'd have a narrow view of what God is like if we only talk about Him Sunday morning. And if they only 'visited' with Him on Sundays, what would their relationship with Him be like as they become adults? Polite. Restrained. Distant. Not at all what we want for them.
We want them to have a passionate relationship with their Creator.
So, do I worry that our children will one day rebel?
No. I don't. Their future is in God's hands, not mine.
He has never let me down before, and I "[b]eing confident of this very thing, that He which hath begun a good work in you, will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ:" (Philippians 1:6). I claim this over our children.
His Word promises, and He always keeps His promises.
I stopped and pondered that question.
Yes, I do wonder sometimes if our children will rebel against what we're teaching them and then I stop and ask my Heavenly Father, who loves them more than I ever could, to put a hedge of protection around them. I ask Him for them to find Him early in life and to love and serve Him all the days of their lives. My husband and I fervently desire for our children not to just identify themselves as a Christian. Many people claim that and don't live it out. Our goal is for them to have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ and to identify themselves as a Christ- follower.
I do not worry because God promises that His Word will not return void. Meaning, that if we share His Word that He will take care of the rest. I also take comfort with the promise that if we train up our child in the way he should go, when he is old he will not depart from it. I claim these promises over all my children.
The very best we can do is to train our kids, to teach them- through example- that what we say we believe aligns with how we actually live our lives. We also pray with all our might that they will desire a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. A real, true, authentic, genuine relationship with Him.
We cannot NOT teach our children to have a relationship with Him. God is very clear in His Word-
"And thou shalt love the LORD thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might. And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be as frontlets between thine eyes. And thou shalt write them upon the posts of thy house, and on thy gates." ~Deuteronomy 6:5-9
God cannot make it any clearer. As their parents, it is our God-given responsibility to teach them to love Him with all their hearts, souls, and might. He has given us a direct command. There are no 'maybe's' or 'shoulds' or 'you might considers'. We are to teach them every moment of the day.
That doesn't mean life is one big, long lecture of what our kids should and shouldn't do. Rather, it is a conscious effort to teach them about God every moment that we can- to look for the teachable moments.
Sometimes, it's as my son and I snuggle before his sister wakes up and Daddy's left in the morning that we pray for Daddy's safety as he goes to work. Other times, it's seeing something really cool in nature and talking about what an awesome Creator God is. Sometimes, it's a lesson in forgiveness, grace, redemption.
In our journey as a homeschooling family, we are looking for ways in which to draw even closer to God. What we're doing is contrary to most of society. And there are times this choice can be lonely. What we're doing is viewed as 'weird' or 'extreme' by many. And we want our children to identify themselves in Jesus, not the world says we are. What we are doing is a huge leap of faith. And we want our kids to learn to live by faith, not by sight.
So, we invite God into our homeschool every day. We ask Him to bless our time and our efforts. And, privately, I've been asking God to reveal more ways to teach my kids about Him.
How could I incorporate more time spent reading from His Word? The answer was quite simple- reading the Bible as we had breakfast. We've been reading a Proverb according to the day, maybe a Psalm depending on how long our son eats. We definitely read a Bible lesson (I don't like the word 'story', which implies it's made up. The Bible is absolute Truth.) before reading, 'riting, and 'rithmetic begin. And for quite some time now we read the Bible before bed. (We often use a children's Bible with lots of pictures.)
This has been a really neat experience for us. First, our time is stretched so much. We are finding that we get much more done when we get our priorities straight. The tone in our home is different. We are not focused on ourselves. Our conversations are deep. (Proverbs 10:1, for example- "The proverbs of Solomon. A wise son maketh a glad father: but a foolish son is the heaviness of his mother." This lead to a five minute discussion on words such as wise, foolish, heaviness- with our five year old. I could almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he chewed on these words and their meaning as he was literally chewing his poptart.)
Exposing our children to the Bible only during church time would lead to disasterous results; they'd have a narrow view of what God is like if we only talk about Him Sunday morning. And if they only 'visited' with Him on Sundays, what would their relationship with Him be like as they become adults? Polite. Restrained. Distant. Not at all what we want for them.
We want them to have a passionate relationship with their Creator.
So, do I worry that our children will one day rebel?
No. I don't. Their future is in God's hands, not mine.
He has never let me down before, and I "[b]eing confident of this very thing, that He which hath begun a good work in you, will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ:" (Philippians 1:6). I claim this over our children.
His Word promises, and He always keeps His promises.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
What Matters Most
Gone, for now at least, are the days of buying gifts for every occassion. Birthdays. Mother's and Father's Days. Christmas.
My husband and I began this the first Christmas we moved in to our new home. There was nothing we needed and our home was so new the paint fumes still hung in the air. We had our own home- finally!- and we decided just to fill our stockings with little things the other would enjoy or had a need for- a bag of Starbucks for my husband or special chocolates for me.
This was actually, a good idea, because the next Christmas found us expecting our first baby and staring down the decision of whether or not I would stay at home full time. We don't buy each other anything for Christmas, although the we do let the kids get the other parent something (with a set dollar amount). Mother's and Father's Day also arrives with small but thoughtful gifts from the children. Even birthdays and anniversaries are small affairs. (Although for our 10th anniversary, we are planning on a weekend to celebrate, so Grands, if you're reading this, be on alert- plan on some bonding time with the kids!)
Why? Well, there are several reasons. We're grown-ups. We are a one income family by choice. We have everything we need. So our thought is, "Why buy stuff we don't have to have?"
And we're seeing that in our spending for extended family, too. Don't get me wrong. We love to celebrate and find a reason to enjoy every milestone (see John 10:10), but we don't do it with a big credit card bill that comes the next month.
This has been a hard lesson for me. I love to give gifts. It's not that I love to shop; it has its purpose, but it's the giving that gives me joy.
So, in our need to whittle away more spending and a need to preserve my sanity from hours of contemplating the 'perfect' gift for people who have everything they need, too, we have decided to give what matters most- time and love.
How? Well, for Christmas, we have given our parents meals- home-cooked once a month for a set number of months. My husband has given his dad the gift of mowing his lawn. For Mother's Day, I am making greeting cards for all the moms, grandmoms, and aunts in our lives. (Yes, there is a cost, but it is nominal.) F0r my Pop's birthday tomorrow, we baked a batch of cookies. Our son spent two hours decorating a ziplock bag, making a card, coloring pictures, and writing a birthday message. He could not have been more proud; he chattered the whole time about how his poppa was gonna love his gifts.
Of all the gifts I've given in my life and of all I have received, the most precious were the ones that time and love went into. That's what we want our children to learn- what matters most- the love, time, and thought that go into giving. Whether it's store-bought or handmade, we want them to invest themselves into the giving because that's what matters most- the cost, which is the love that went into the gift.
My husband and I began this the first Christmas we moved in to our new home. There was nothing we needed and our home was so new the paint fumes still hung in the air. We had our own home- finally!- and we decided just to fill our stockings with little things the other would enjoy or had a need for- a bag of Starbucks for my husband or special chocolates for me.
This was actually, a good idea, because the next Christmas found us expecting our first baby and staring down the decision of whether or not I would stay at home full time. We don't buy each other anything for Christmas, although the we do let the kids get the other parent something (with a set dollar amount). Mother's and Father's Day also arrives with small but thoughtful gifts from the children. Even birthdays and anniversaries are small affairs. (Although for our 10th anniversary, we are planning on a weekend to celebrate, so Grands, if you're reading this, be on alert- plan on some bonding time with the kids!)
Why? Well, there are several reasons. We're grown-ups. We are a one income family by choice. We have everything we need. So our thought is, "Why buy stuff we don't have to have?"
And we're seeing that in our spending for extended family, too. Don't get me wrong. We love to celebrate and find a reason to enjoy every milestone (see John 10:10), but we don't do it with a big credit card bill that comes the next month.
This has been a hard lesson for me. I love to give gifts. It's not that I love to shop; it has its purpose, but it's the giving that gives me joy.
So, in our need to whittle away more spending and a need to preserve my sanity from hours of contemplating the 'perfect' gift for people who have everything they need, too, we have decided to give what matters most- time and love.
How? Well, for Christmas, we have given our parents meals- home-cooked once a month for a set number of months. My husband has given his dad the gift of mowing his lawn. For Mother's Day, I am making greeting cards for all the moms, grandmoms, and aunts in our lives. (Yes, there is a cost, but it is nominal.) F0r my Pop's birthday tomorrow, we baked a batch of cookies. Our son spent two hours decorating a ziplock bag, making a card, coloring pictures, and writing a birthday message. He could not have been more proud; he chattered the whole time about how his poppa was gonna love his gifts.
Of all the gifts I've given in my life and of all I have received, the most precious were the ones that time and love went into. That's what we want our children to learn- what matters most- the love, time, and thought that go into giving. Whether it's store-bought or handmade, we want them to invest themselves into the giving because that's what matters most- the cost, which is the love that went into the gift.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
It's the Little Things
I tend to get hung up on the little things. The big stuff? No problem! I give the LORD the big stuff, and leave it in His hands. I'm smart enough to know when I have no answers, He does. And, I've grown to learn to trust that He will take care of it in His way and in His time.
It's the little things that trip me up. Perhaps I don't think it's worth God's time. Totally not true. He cares. The Bible says He knows the number of hairs on our head. (Now, with six billion folks currently on earth, plus all those who've lived in the past and who are yet to arrive, that's pretty amazing.) So, if He knows us in such minute detail, why would I think He wouldn't fill in the needs for the little things? Or that He wouldn't care about those little things? After all, I am His child. And just as I want to give good things to my children, He even moreso wants to give good things to His.
When we began to contemplate this homeschooling journey as a family, I didn't lay in bed at night and worry about teaching our son algebra or how we were going to get our unborn baby accepted to college. I didn't even worry about how to pay for college. Somehow, the LORD will provide whether it's how to explain math problems with letters in them or how our kids' college will be paid for. He has always come through and of His faithfulness I am certain.
No, I worried about the little things. Silly little things.
What about field trips? Our kids wouldn't know the joy of looking forward to a visit to a museum or fire station or planetarium with their friends, complete with slightly sweaty peanut butter sandwich and a juice box.
Class parties? What about those? No Valentines exchanges! No Christmas celebrations! No end of the year festivities!
What about field day? No three-legged or potato sack races.
Carrying a bookbag? Picking out school supplies? Yearbook?
The list, as you can see, went on and on and on. Truth be known, it still does, but the list is becoming less and less as I see the hand of God at work in even the smallest of areas.
I am finding that each of those little things that I have fretted about in the late hours of the night have been taken care of. Those things are really silly, insignificant things and have no bearing on our children's education. Still, those things are some of which childhood memories are made.
And in His perfect timing, God revealed to us how He was providing for those small things that really are insignificant in the grand scheme, but are so important to children (and their neurotic mommas!).
First of all, He provided for a large need we didn't even know we needed. He provided a support network. Church aquaintances, people in the community, e-loops, and co-ops provided an abundance of friends. This gives us a variety of people with different interests, gifts, and talents that we can learn from and in turn share our unique gifts with. He placed just the right people in our path to share in our journey as they travel in theirs.
Once that big unknown need was filled (see, He took care of it!), He began to fill in those little things that were 'wants'.
Through our local homeschooling groups, we take part in field trips. We've been to the fire station twice, a dairy, the local kids' museum more times than I can recall, and to the planetarium (hopefully, again soon!); there are more field trips on the horizon. Plus, there are park days! Gloriously beautiful Friday afternoons spent at play!
Holiday parties? Well, we have found the joy of co-ops, where those do take place. (And, if they don't, then that's what our home is for- to invite friends over for some fun.) Plus, the end of the year celebration is already on our calendar.
Field day is in about four weeks. Daddy is taking off work to come play and meet our new friends. This event is open to kids 4-18. How many field days can boast that? (Now, to practice carrying an egg with a spoon and tossing a water balloon.)
The book bag goes with us sporadically at this age. It's been to co-op a few times, to the doctor's office, to church. It serves its purpose when needed. He'll carry it until Buzz's lights no longer flash or its no longer cool, whichever comes first. And there won't be a pressing need to get a new one every year. It won't see that much wear. Still, it's a rite of passage being a kid- owning a bookbag. Now that I think about it, not really as big a deal as I once thought!
Yearbook? Well, I've come up with an idea for that. We're going to put together a scrapbook of sorts- pictures, cool stuff from the school year, projects, ticket stubs. Yearbooks will be created at home, written in my children's words. One-of-a-kind creations will recount the places we've been, the things we've seen, the lessons we've learned, the fun we've had.
So my worries about the little things really aren't worth the loss of sleep. God fills the need. He's in the here-and-now, and He's in the future.
There's nothing that escapes His notice- the big needs or the little wants.
It's the little things that trip me up. Perhaps I don't think it's worth God's time. Totally not true. He cares. The Bible says He knows the number of hairs on our head. (Now, with six billion folks currently on earth, plus all those who've lived in the past and who are yet to arrive, that's pretty amazing.) So, if He knows us in such minute detail, why would I think He wouldn't fill in the needs for the little things? Or that He wouldn't care about those little things? After all, I am His child. And just as I want to give good things to my children, He even moreso wants to give good things to His.
When we began to contemplate this homeschooling journey as a family, I didn't lay in bed at night and worry about teaching our son algebra or how we were going to get our unborn baby accepted to college. I didn't even worry about how to pay for college. Somehow, the LORD will provide whether it's how to explain math problems with letters in them or how our kids' college will be paid for. He has always come through and of His faithfulness I am certain.
No, I worried about the little things. Silly little things.
What about field trips? Our kids wouldn't know the joy of looking forward to a visit to a museum or fire station or planetarium with their friends, complete with slightly sweaty peanut butter sandwich and a juice box.
Class parties? What about those? No Valentines exchanges! No Christmas celebrations! No end of the year festivities!
What about field day? No three-legged or potato sack races.
Carrying a bookbag? Picking out school supplies? Yearbook?
The list, as you can see, went on and on and on. Truth be known, it still does, but the list is becoming less and less as I see the hand of God at work in even the smallest of areas.
I am finding that each of those little things that I have fretted about in the late hours of the night have been taken care of. Those things are really silly, insignificant things and have no bearing on our children's education. Still, those things are some of which childhood memories are made.
And in His perfect timing, God revealed to us how He was providing for those small things that really are insignificant in the grand scheme, but are so important to children (and their neurotic mommas!).
First of all, He provided for a large need we didn't even know we needed. He provided a support network. Church aquaintances, people in the community, e-loops, and co-ops provided an abundance of friends. This gives us a variety of people with different interests, gifts, and talents that we can learn from and in turn share our unique gifts with. He placed just the right people in our path to share in our journey as they travel in theirs.
Once that big unknown need was filled (see, He took care of it!), He began to fill in those little things that were 'wants'.
Through our local homeschooling groups, we take part in field trips. We've been to the fire station twice, a dairy, the local kids' museum more times than I can recall, and to the planetarium (hopefully, again soon!); there are more field trips on the horizon. Plus, there are park days! Gloriously beautiful Friday afternoons spent at play!
Holiday parties? Well, we have found the joy of co-ops, where those do take place. (And, if they don't, then that's what our home is for- to invite friends over for some fun.) Plus, the end of the year celebration is already on our calendar.
Field day is in about four weeks. Daddy is taking off work to come play and meet our new friends. This event is open to kids 4-18. How many field days can boast that? (Now, to practice carrying an egg with a spoon and tossing a water balloon.)
The book bag goes with us sporadically at this age. It's been to co-op a few times, to the doctor's office, to church. It serves its purpose when needed. He'll carry it until Buzz's lights no longer flash or its no longer cool, whichever comes first. And there won't be a pressing need to get a new one every year. It won't see that much wear. Still, it's a rite of passage being a kid- owning a bookbag. Now that I think about it, not really as big a deal as I once thought!
Yearbook? Well, I've come up with an idea for that. We're going to put together a scrapbook of sorts- pictures, cool stuff from the school year, projects, ticket stubs. Yearbooks will be created at home, written in my children's words. One-of-a-kind creations will recount the places we've been, the things we've seen, the lessons we've learned, the fun we've had.
So my worries about the little things really aren't worth the loss of sleep. God fills the need. He's in the here-and-now, and He's in the future.
There's nothing that escapes His notice- the big needs or the little wants.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Love is served here....
Like most newlyweds, when my husband and I started out, we had next to nothing. Well, I suppose that is not exactly an accurate statement.
We had God. We had each other. We had our extended families. In the family ties alone we had more than most. With the good LORD, we had everything.
On the day we married, my Nana told me that we had the world by the tail- we were young, we had our educations (my college graduation a scant three weeks before and my husband's one astronomy class and a capstone paper away), and we were hardworking. If we kept God first in our lives and loved each other, everything would fall into place.
Still, when it came down to it, we were young and in love and we were living on love, but we worked like crazy to get established. For two and a half years, we lived with my in-laws in a basement apartment. They graciously allowed us to live there to save for a home of our own. ("Delayed gratification," my friend and mentor called it, but that's another blog for another day.)
When the much-anticipated time finally came, God had blessed us and made a way for us to purchase furniture on time. Keep in mind, it wasn't the 'buy now, pay later' kind of deal. This was a local, family owned store who did things the old-fashioned way. We chose our furniture, put a down payment and paid on it monthly. It was ours when it was paid for. (This was another lesson in delayed-gratification. The 'having' it was so much sweeter because we had worked for it and owned it free and clear, a lesson we wish all young people knew.)
Every month I went to that oak furniture store to make our payment. I suppose I could have mailed it in, but I went to visit and admire that floor display. It sounds silly, I know, but every month I would go in, make my payment and tell the owner I was just going to take a look around. I'm sure he thought I was crazy. I'd stand and admire the long solid oak dining table with the clipped ends. I'd run my hand along one of the heavy chairs, and I'd dream of the meals we'd have at that table. I'd imagine storing the leaf turned upside down under our bed, just as my parents had done when I was a kid, and bringing it out to add table-space for Sunday suppers where our families would gather.
Only, the first meal I served at that table was not exactly the one of my daydreams. The first meal we ate at that table, surrounded by our parents and sisters on the night we moved into our home, was quick and filling. There were not many words exchanged, just comments here and there punctuated by sighs following a day of moving. No one wanted to sit their plates or red plastic cups on the freshly polished surface. Of course, for my husband and me, that would not do. Tables were for eating on. We'd scrimped, saved, worked, and dreamed. The moment we'd waited on was finally here. We were in our home and love was served (albeit, pizza and Coca-Cola), and so our dining table was christened.
I'd always heard that a kitchen was the heart of a home, and so it was in my childhood home. Growing up, the child of a world-class Southern cook, the heart of our home was our kitchen, where my momma's presence, even in her absence, seemed to linger.
So, naturally, when we chose our houseplans, we chose an 'open floor plan'- one where entry, living and dining room and kitchen were all connected, separated only by a wall for a fireplace and another for kitchen cabinetry. I wanted the heart of our home to be as large and as encompassing as possible, where those in the living room would still be connected to those in the kitchen.
Funny thing is, the heart of our home is not the kitchen, nor is it the living room- the two places I'd thought love was most likely to be found.
It's at our dining room table.
This space has become almost sacred. Yes, it's where we say grace and eat our meals. It's where we laugh, talk, share, and cry. It's where we teach our son (and where our other children, good LORD's willing, will be taught). It's where my husband and I linger over coffee on our all-too-rare-mornings together at home. It's where every Christmas Santa leaves cookie crumbs, an empty, milk-stained glass, and a letter to the children who live UTRTR, reminding them all of life is about Jesus and to keep their eyes and hearts focused on Him. It's where spring baskets are found. It's where Valentine cards are made. It's where the day's events are recounted. It's where empty bellies are filled, but, more importantly, hungry souls are satisfied.
It's where love is served.
We had God. We had each other. We had our extended families. In the family ties alone we had more than most. With the good LORD, we had everything.
On the day we married, my Nana told me that we had the world by the tail- we were young, we had our educations (my college graduation a scant three weeks before and my husband's one astronomy class and a capstone paper away), and we were hardworking. If we kept God first in our lives and loved each other, everything would fall into place.
Still, when it came down to it, we were young and in love and we were living on love, but we worked like crazy to get established. For two and a half years, we lived with my in-laws in a basement apartment. They graciously allowed us to live there to save for a home of our own. ("Delayed gratification," my friend and mentor called it, but that's another blog for another day.)
When the much-anticipated time finally came, God had blessed us and made a way for us to purchase furniture on time. Keep in mind, it wasn't the 'buy now, pay later' kind of deal. This was a local, family owned store who did things the old-fashioned way. We chose our furniture, put a down payment and paid on it monthly. It was ours when it was paid for. (This was another lesson in delayed-gratification. The 'having' it was so much sweeter because we had worked for it and owned it free and clear, a lesson we wish all young people knew.)
Every month I went to that oak furniture store to make our payment. I suppose I could have mailed it in, but I went to visit and admire that floor display. It sounds silly, I know, but every month I would go in, make my payment and tell the owner I was just going to take a look around. I'm sure he thought I was crazy. I'd stand and admire the long solid oak dining table with the clipped ends. I'd run my hand along one of the heavy chairs, and I'd dream of the meals we'd have at that table. I'd imagine storing the leaf turned upside down under our bed, just as my parents had done when I was a kid, and bringing it out to add table-space for Sunday suppers where our families would gather.
Only, the first meal I served at that table was not exactly the one of my daydreams. The first meal we ate at that table, surrounded by our parents and sisters on the night we moved into our home, was quick and filling. There were not many words exchanged, just comments here and there punctuated by sighs following a day of moving. No one wanted to sit their plates or red plastic cups on the freshly polished surface. Of course, for my husband and me, that would not do. Tables were for eating on. We'd scrimped, saved, worked, and dreamed. The moment we'd waited on was finally here. We were in our home and love was served (albeit, pizza and Coca-Cola), and so our dining table was christened.
I'd always heard that a kitchen was the heart of a home, and so it was in my childhood home. Growing up, the child of a world-class Southern cook, the heart of our home was our kitchen, where my momma's presence, even in her absence, seemed to linger.
So, naturally, when we chose our houseplans, we chose an 'open floor plan'- one where entry, living and dining room and kitchen were all connected, separated only by a wall for a fireplace and another for kitchen cabinetry. I wanted the heart of our home to be as large and as encompassing as possible, where those in the living room would still be connected to those in the kitchen.
Funny thing is, the heart of our home is not the kitchen, nor is it the living room- the two places I'd thought love was most likely to be found.
It's at our dining room table.
This space has become almost sacred. Yes, it's where we say grace and eat our meals. It's where we laugh, talk, share, and cry. It's where we teach our son (and where our other children, good LORD's willing, will be taught). It's where my husband and I linger over coffee on our all-too-rare-mornings together at home. It's where every Christmas Santa leaves cookie crumbs, an empty, milk-stained glass, and a letter to the children who live UTRTR, reminding them all of life is about Jesus and to keep their eyes and hearts focused on Him. It's where spring baskets are found. It's where Valentine cards are made. It's where the day's events are recounted. It's where empty bellies are filled, but, more importantly, hungry souls are satisfied.
It's where love is served.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
The Prayer of Jabez
In the midst of begats and names I cannot begin to pronounce in I Chronicles 4, a man stands out from the crowd.
In fact, there is a break in the begats- two verses' worth, to be exact.
I Chronicles 4:9 tells us, "Now Jabez was more honourable than his brothers: and his mother called his name Jabez, saying, Because I bore him in pain."
Verse 10 goes on to say, "And Jabez called on the God of Israel saying, 'Oh, that You would bless me indeed, and enlarge my territory, that Your hand would be with me, and that You would keep me from evil, that I may not cause pain!' So God granted him what he requested."
Jabez.
His name means born in sorrow. Ouch! His mom must have had a lot of sorrow if that was the name she chose for her newborn. Yet despite this dreadful moniker, the Bible tells us that he was more honorable than all his brothers. He stood out. A man among men, this man Jabez.
I became vaguely familiar with Jabez ten years or so ago. I admit that I prayed the prayer half-heartedly. Could those words uttered by a man thousands of years ago hold the same power for me? I wasn't so sure.
On and off for years, I thought of this prayer. Sadly, I didn't take the time to pray it or when I did it was half-hearted, as if God wouldn't do for me what He did for Jabez.
It wasn't until a few days before the birth of my daughter last year I brought out a stack of short devotionals and put them next to my nursing chair (aka- my husband's lounge chair). Having to sit for several hours a day would maximize my time to catch up on some reading, including the Bible. Knowing that I would need every ounce of wisdom that God's Word could afford me now that I was entrusted with two little lives, I put them within easy reach.
It was about four weeks after our baby was born that I was able to keep my eyes open long enough while nursing to read those devotionals and my Bible. And when I did, I read this prayer with fresh eyes. And, for the first time sincerely prayed these words.
What a life changing prayer that has been for my family! Every morning when I wake up and every night before I drift off to sleep, I pray this prayer. And, several times throughout the day I will pray these words. I copied this prayer on a notecard for my husband and gave it to him. He was already praying this, only not in these exact words. How awesome that God brought me to the same prayer my husband was already praying!
What has happened as a result?
We have been blessed, indeed!
Needs are met before they're even needs.
Case in point, clothes for our baby girl. Thanks to the kindness and generosity of my sister-in-law and my girlfriends we haven't had to buy our baby any clothing. (Okay, so we've bought four outfits, which over the course of seven months is staggering!) Seasonal clothes are provided for two seasons in advance! In addition, we have been able to bless others with our abundant blessings.
Another example, my husband's assistant sent our son a kids' devotional out of the blue, just a day after telling him I wish we had a kid-friendly one to read along with the Bible during our family prayer time.
A friend cleaned out her craft closet and has sent us the extras her boys have outgrown. This provides hours of entertainment for our son. I might add, our own craft supplies were getting low. My friend had no idea of this need.
Another brought sunbonnets to our baby a day after I had been looking at some. While I was contemplating the purchase, the LORD said, "I know your needs; I will provide. Just wait." I didn't buy the sunbonnets. The next morning another friend brought me sunbonnets her little girl had outgrown. She had no idea about the day before.
My favorite nursing gown, which was a hand-me-down from my cousin when she had her oldest baby nine years ago, was no longer wearable. I thought, "LORD, I'd really love to have another one exactly like this. I know nothing is too hard for You. Please make a way for me to have one exactly like this one." A few days later as I was with my mom, nana, and aunt at a thrift store, my nana and aunt found me three new nursing gowns. One of which was the exact same one I had prayed for. It looked like it had never been worn.
Enlarging our territory? Well, we're seeing God at work on that one. He added to our family this past year. He's brought new friends into our lives for us to influence and be influenced by. He revealed to me the fact that it's not that our family needs my husband's second job, but that the people at his moonlighting gig need to see an example of a godly man who cherishes his family.
Asking God for His hand to be with us has made us even more aware of the choices we make. We want what we do to have His blessing. We fall short and make plenty of mistakes, but our motives are pure. We do what we do for Him.
Asking Him to keep us from evil is another prayer that He is answering. We're praying not only to be delivered from temptation but to be completely separated from it. Our desire? That we would not cause pain- to ourselves; to our friends, family and strangers; and most of all, to God. Whatever our stumbling blocks are, God makes it easier to avoid them or He provides a way of escape, just as His Word promises.
We've been praying this prayer for five months. Not a day goes by that we aren't blessed in some way. A need is met; a want is granted.
And it's not about what we get out of it- the material things. It's the fact that we are putting all of our trust in the LORD that He will provide what we need, that He will give us more opportunities to serve Him and others, that He will protect us, and that His protection will protect not only us from pain but others and Himself from hurt we may cause.
He has consistently provided and protected us every step of the way. Looking back, He always has. It's just that in the past five months, we have become more aware of His presence. Perhaps that's because we're asking for more and more of His presence.
And in His presence, no matter the trial, circumstances, or chaos that seems to be breaking loose around us, we have joy. We have peace. We are content. And He scoops us up closer to Himself. He keeps His hand upon us.
In short, He is granting us what we request.
In fact, there is a break in the begats- two verses' worth, to be exact.
I Chronicles 4:9 tells us, "Now Jabez was more honourable than his brothers: and his mother called his name Jabez, saying, Because I bore him in pain."
Verse 10 goes on to say, "And Jabez called on the God of Israel saying, 'Oh, that You would bless me indeed, and enlarge my territory, that Your hand would be with me, and that You would keep me from evil, that I may not cause pain!' So God granted him what he requested."
Jabez.
His name means born in sorrow. Ouch! His mom must have had a lot of sorrow if that was the name she chose for her newborn. Yet despite this dreadful moniker, the Bible tells us that he was more honorable than all his brothers. He stood out. A man among men, this man Jabez.
I became vaguely familiar with Jabez ten years or so ago. I admit that I prayed the prayer half-heartedly. Could those words uttered by a man thousands of years ago hold the same power for me? I wasn't so sure.
On and off for years, I thought of this prayer. Sadly, I didn't take the time to pray it or when I did it was half-hearted, as if God wouldn't do for me what He did for Jabez.
It wasn't until a few days before the birth of my daughter last year I brought out a stack of short devotionals and put them next to my nursing chair (aka- my husband's lounge chair). Having to sit for several hours a day would maximize my time to catch up on some reading, including the Bible. Knowing that I would need every ounce of wisdom that God's Word could afford me now that I was entrusted with two little lives, I put them within easy reach.
It was about four weeks after our baby was born that I was able to keep my eyes open long enough while nursing to read those devotionals and my Bible. And when I did, I read this prayer with fresh eyes. And, for the first time sincerely prayed these words.
What a life changing prayer that has been for my family! Every morning when I wake up and every night before I drift off to sleep, I pray this prayer. And, several times throughout the day I will pray these words. I copied this prayer on a notecard for my husband and gave it to him. He was already praying this, only not in these exact words. How awesome that God brought me to the same prayer my husband was already praying!
What has happened as a result?
We have been blessed, indeed!
Needs are met before they're even needs.
Case in point, clothes for our baby girl. Thanks to the kindness and generosity of my sister-in-law and my girlfriends we haven't had to buy our baby any clothing. (Okay, so we've bought four outfits, which over the course of seven months is staggering!) Seasonal clothes are provided for two seasons in advance! In addition, we have been able to bless others with our abundant blessings.
Another example, my husband's assistant sent our son a kids' devotional out of the blue, just a day after telling him I wish we had a kid-friendly one to read along with the Bible during our family prayer time.
A friend cleaned out her craft closet and has sent us the extras her boys have outgrown. This provides hours of entertainment for our son. I might add, our own craft supplies were getting low. My friend had no idea of this need.
Another brought sunbonnets to our baby a day after I had been looking at some. While I was contemplating the purchase, the LORD said, "I know your needs; I will provide. Just wait." I didn't buy the sunbonnets. The next morning another friend brought me sunbonnets her little girl had outgrown. She had no idea about the day before.
My favorite nursing gown, which was a hand-me-down from my cousin when she had her oldest baby nine years ago, was no longer wearable. I thought, "LORD, I'd really love to have another one exactly like this. I know nothing is too hard for You. Please make a way for me to have one exactly like this one." A few days later as I was with my mom, nana, and aunt at a thrift store, my nana and aunt found me three new nursing gowns. One of which was the exact same one I had prayed for. It looked like it had never been worn.
Enlarging our territory? Well, we're seeing God at work on that one. He added to our family this past year. He's brought new friends into our lives for us to influence and be influenced by. He revealed to me the fact that it's not that our family needs my husband's second job, but that the people at his moonlighting gig need to see an example of a godly man who cherishes his family.
Asking God for His hand to be with us has made us even more aware of the choices we make. We want what we do to have His blessing. We fall short and make plenty of mistakes, but our motives are pure. We do what we do for Him.
Asking Him to keep us from evil is another prayer that He is answering. We're praying not only to be delivered from temptation but to be completely separated from it. Our desire? That we would not cause pain- to ourselves; to our friends, family and strangers; and most of all, to God. Whatever our stumbling blocks are, God makes it easier to avoid them or He provides a way of escape, just as His Word promises.
We've been praying this prayer for five months. Not a day goes by that we aren't blessed in some way. A need is met; a want is granted.
And it's not about what we get out of it- the material things. It's the fact that we are putting all of our trust in the LORD that He will provide what we need, that He will give us more opportunities to serve Him and others, that He will protect us, and that His protection will protect not only us from pain but others and Himself from hurt we may cause.
He has consistently provided and protected us every step of the way. Looking back, He always has. It's just that in the past five months, we have become more aware of His presence. Perhaps that's because we're asking for more and more of His presence.
And in His presence, no matter the trial, circumstances, or chaos that seems to be breaking loose around us, we have joy. We have peace. We are content. And He scoops us up closer to Himself. He keeps His hand upon us.
In short, He is granting us what we request.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)