Leadership Matters

Don't know why this is weighing on me, but it is...

Growing up, I received some pretty theologically awful answers to the hard questions I was prone to ask.  It seemed like any doubting was to be squelched, and tough questions were to be ignored or given pat answers.  Sometimes dangerous pat answers.

Take for instance my (terrifying) question, "What is the unpardonable sin?"  This was a question I asked during my teen years, and was given the answer, "Sinning away the day of grace."  WRONG.  Jesus clearly said that blaspheming the Holy Spirit is the one sin that will not be forgiven.  Anyone with a fairly mediocre reading comprehension can figure that out.  I wanted to know what He meant, but further questioning was highly discouraged, and I spent YEARS terrified that I would commit the unpardonable sin unknowingly, unintentionally.

Or take another situation that faces many people in our churches today -- depression and loneliness.  I'm not talking about cabin fever, or the "let down" feeling that some feel around the holidays each year.  I mean real, dark, clawing loneliness and/or depression that many in our churches struggle with daily.  Growing up, it was made abundantly clear that "real Christians" do not feel abandoned or deep loneliness or depression.  WRONG.  It's sort of the emotional equivalent of telling someone that "real Christians" don't get cancer, or Alzheimer's, or MS, or any myriad other debilitating illnesses.  Christians have the SAME struggles as everyone else.  We are still part of this fallen world.  Joyfully, Christians will NOT feel these things once we've received our new bodies in Heaven, BUT we are not there yet. 

And this is why leadership matters.  Humble leaders will admit they do not have all the answers, but will not grow angry at the questions.  Godly leaders will always root their answers in the Bible, not in a more comfortable tradition of man.  True leaders will be searching the Scriptures, submitting to the correction of the Holy Spirit where they have been wrong, or incorrect in their understanding.

Finding these leaders is not easy.  Often those who encourage questions do not then stand on Scripture.  They do not give Biblically sound answers, and many times their answer will depend entirely on the situation.  Others will root themselves in biblically sounding answers and catch-phrases and angrily reply to earnest questions.  Sadly, both of these types gain a large following.  And lead many astray.

Being this kind of leader isn't easy, either.  Encouraging those under our leadership to question, while admitting we do not have all the answers is humbling.  It's so much easier to give a quick answer, or to grow angry with deeper questioning.

But here is what I remember about growing up in a situation where questions and uncomfortable emotions were met with anger, it teaches that God is not big.  That vision of God is too small.  He created us, He knows us far better than we know ourselves.  He is fully big enough to handle our questions, to guide us into a bigger, better understanding of Himself and His purposes, and plans.

I still struggle with doubts about many things.  Some (not all!) of those doubts and fears probably stem from the theologically unsound answers I received from leaders growing up.  Some of my struggles could have been lessened with answers truly rooted in the Bible.

This is one of the reasons I encourage my girls to ask questions, one of the reasons I encourage them to seek out our pastor to answer questions.  They sit with us during church services, and many times the Doctor or the Cowgirl will have a question about either the passage specifically or about the sermon.  I am many times amazed at their questions, given their relatively young ages.  The Doctor especially asks deep questions.  The Cowgirl often wants to know the traditions, or culture behind the passage.  They are quick to notice inconsistency in either content or application.

Basically, leadership matters.  Their view of God will color your view of God, either to strengthen your faith, or to put stumbling blocks that lead to doubt.  And your view of God will color someone else's.  Be careful whom you follow, and be careful where you lead.

The Unworthy (Terrible) Servant

I have been struggling for a while.  For a long time (years, maybe), I begged God to allow me to see myself as He sees me.

In my mind, I had visions of being assured of being His beloved child, of Him showing me how much He cares.

Instead, the passage that leapt out at me one morning was Luke 17:7-10.  Yeah.  Not what I wanted to hear.  Not a passage I can recall ever hearing a sermon on, in fact.  "Unworthy servant?!"

I cried.  Several times over the next several days.  Each time my attitude about something stunk, I would pray, "I am an unworthy servant."

See, I am a terrible servant.  I don't WANT to serve.  I want to be left alone, to be allowed to do my thing, or sometimes, for others to serve me.  I want to help those whom I choose, when I choose.  And my heart rebels at the thought of being God's servant.  And admitting my unworthiness.

I've been struggling again more recently.  Rebellion against the whole servant thing again.  It happens a lot with me.  Some people seem to naturally serve.  Not me.

The verse that keeps coming to mind? Galatians 6:9 "And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up."  Mostly, the "do not grow weary" part keeps reverberating in my head.  But I am weary.

So what to do?  I pray.  I am learning to pray differently.  To focus on how much I have been forgiven, on what I am to do, not on the shortcomings of others.  I am learning to ask that God change ME, my heart. my attitudes, and actions.

I am just beginning to see that I need to be doing things in service to God.  In the story in Luke, I believe that God is the Master.  It's Him I am serving, not people.  Yes, the people around me may benefit from that service, but the service must be rendered to God, because He commands it, not because they need it, or I can do it, or it's convenient to my schedule.  So, I guess it's time for changes.  Changes that do not come easily to me.

Left to myself, I would not serve.  My very being rebels at the thought.  But I am a new creation in Christ, so serve I must.  Starting with those closest to me.  The ones who know me best, and the ones that I most expect to serve me. 

Good night, and God bless.

Ugly Speech (or Why I Rarely am Controversial on Facebook)

Facebook -- I love it and I hate it.  I have a FB page, and several friends.  Many of whom do not agree with me, or with each other, on various topics.  Most of these topics are benign, like whose baseball team should win the World Series, or whether Clemson University or the University of South Carolina has the best football team.  (Go Tigers!)

Some of these things, however, are controversial.  Like abortion, corporal punishment, the Second Amendment, school choice, capital punishment, and politics.  I have opinions on all those topics.  Very strong opinions.  But I very rarely, if ever, voice them on Facebook.

Why?

Several reasons, really, the main one being I don't like where "discourse" in this country is going.  Or not going, as the case may be.  One person jumps on FB and posts a comment with a strong pro- or anti- opinion on one of the above topics.  Someone else jumps in with an opposing view.  Sometimes, they are civil.  Most of the time, they are not.  Then the original poster gets angry, and the original two, plus various supporters on each side, jump in and call names, cast aspersions, get ugly and personal.  It's just not worth it.

I am called to be salt and light in this world.  Christ said that the world will know us by our LOVE.  Not by our clinging to our "rights" or clinging to our opinions.  I cannot win someone to Christ if I will not love them.  And calling ugly names is not loving someone, no matter how important the issue is.  It will not matter in eternity where someone stood on the sanctity of life if they have rejected Christ.  And woe to me if they reject Christ because of me, because they know I claim His name.  Christ was humble.  Yes, He stood up to corruption within His people.  He called THEM names, said "harsh" things to them.  But why?  Because He was zealous that people be able to get to Him, and to His Father, and these people were standing in the way.

Sound much like today's discourse with so-called Christians?  Are we standing in the way of people coming to Christ by the way we talk, to them and each other, when we disagree?  Would those names that Christ called the Pharisees and other leaders of HIS people back then fit us today?  Would they fit me?  All too often, the answer is "yes."

I'll admit -- this is an area of weakness for me.  I like being "right."  I like having just the thing to say to fire back at someone who is "wrong."  I know if I post something, or comment on something, that a firestorm might ensue.  That things will be said to me, and I will say things back.  And I will have hard feelings toward the person who was harsh or just plain mean.  So, I keep my thoughts to myself.  I prevent myself from sinning in the future by not speaking now.  Generally, the point I would have made is already being articulated by someone else anyway.  It's a way of loving others for me.  Others can handle the back-and-forth with grace; without firing back, or holding a grudge.  I struggle with those two things, so I keep quiet.

Another reason is this -- I will not change someone's mind with a FB post.  I will not make someone see things "my" way.  And they will not change mine.  The best I can hope for is an "agree to disagree."  Which, in my opinion, is best done one-on-one and face to face.  You see, tone is lacking on a FB status or comment.  I may write something that is sarcastic in my head, but it may be read seriously.  (Or vice-versa.)  Plus, once something is "out there," it is out there for all time.  Ten years from now, that topic may be moot, but the harm I may have caused will still stand.

Finally, I do not know everything about everything.  Often, the topic involves the "controversy du jour."  And I rarely have all the facts.  I do not know the situation, the ins and outs of various things.  Sometimes, what seems to be the case isn't, and the unlikely is exactly what happened.  It is best to hold my tongue (or, as it has been said, "better to be silent and thought a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt.")

So, generally, I keep quiet on controversy on FB, saving my opinions for those who know me and my heart.  Afterall, my primary objective is to be salt and light, and the best way to do that is to LOVE others.

Thanksgiving

Today is Thanksgiving.  A day for giving thanks.  To whom?  Well, originally, it was meant to thank the Creator God for all He has done for us...

Of course, we should thank God each day for that day's blessings.  Ideally, we would live in moment-by-moment communion with Him that includes giving thanks in all things.  Yes, all things.  Not so easy, particularly when we don't see the good in any given thing.

So why set aside a day each year?

I think, in part, because it's so much easier to complain.  It's so much more "natural" to focus on the things that are wrong, the things that need to be changed.  We focus on our pain, our disappointments, our unhappiness.  We so long for perfection that we fail to see the beauty in the middle of the mess. 

So we set aside one day each year.

But that day seems to have lost its focus.  Sure, people post random thankful posts on Facebook and other social media sites, but mostly, it seems, that Thanksgiving is more the "gateway to holiday shopping."  We have turned it on it's head.  As soon as Halloween is over, the "Holiday shopping" sale papers begin to come out, ads for what "super deals" we can score for "the holidays."

What if we truly decided to make the holidays about their original purpose?  What if we made Thanksgiving about truly being thankful to a Creator who loves us, who blesses us in the midst of our sinfulness?  Who, ultimately, longs to spend eternity with us, and who made that possible?  What if Thanksgiving DID become a gateway to a time of anticipation of Christmas, not for what we are about to "get," but for what we've already been given?

What if Thanksgiving kicked off a season of gratefulness and of blessing others?  What if, instead of stressing over the "perfect" gift for "the man (or woman, or child, or teen) who has everything," we focused on making ONE person's day better each day, giving one person a reason to be thankful that day?  What if we spoke kindly, smiled more, spent less time stressing over "perfection" and just thanked God in all circumstances?

Start with the cashier the first time you go shopping during this stressful time of year.  Smile at the cashier, call them by name (kindly), and thank them (sincerely) for helping you.  Ask about their day, sympathize with their troubles.  Standing on your feet all day is very hard work.  Treat them as you want to be treated at the end of your day.  (No, don't give them a foot rub.  That would be weird.  And possibly criminal...) 

Move on to the post office worker when you're mailing mountains of boxes (or cards).  Maybe take a treat for them to share within the post office.  (This probably works better in smaller towns.) 

Knit mittens or socks or hats for a homeless shelter.  Make baby blankets for a crisis pregnancy center, or a women's shelter.

Make "angel baby" blankets for the local NICU.  (These are small blankets/quilts given to families whose babies do not survive.  Sometimes they are used for burial, sometimes, they become a special "something" that the family keeps as a memorial.  Talk to your local NICU.  Many of them desperately need these, and very much prefer handmade over those impersonal hospital issue blankets.)

Basically, remember all the ways you are blessed, and do something for someone who is not similarly blessed.  Thank God and then do something.  Make Thanksgiving count.

Weighing in on Ferguson

Here in the US, it seems like events in Ferguson, MO are on everyone's minds.  Many loud voices have added their opinions to the mix, many people have shouted each other down, called each other names, and generally said mean and hateful things about all parties involved.  Mostly, it seems to be along the lines of, "If you don't agree with ME, then you are WRONG, and EVIL."  Sadly, this seems to be what passes for "discourse" in our country any more.  (But that's a whole 'nother post for another time.)

But what seems to me to be missing, at least from what I can see, is a looking at the humanity of the situation.  In all the name-calling, and anger, and screaming from both sides, no one is looking at the genuine heartbreak.

A man has died.  And that's exactly what he was -- a man.  A young man, yes, but a man nonetheless.  He was not a child, not an "innocent" as so many want to portray him.  He was old enough to vote, to defend his country, to enter into a legally binding contract.  Barely, but he was.

Now, he stands before his Maker.  That's all that's left.  The Bible says, "...it is appointed for men to die once and after this comes judgment," (Heb. 9:27, NASB)  The bigger, eternal question is this -- was he ready?  Aside from the hype, aside from the angry voices, was this young man ready to meet his Maker?  If not, he is in a sad state indeed.

You see, the manner of death has NOTHING to do with his eternal destination.  The violence, or calmness, of one's passing does not determine where one spends eternity.  I cannot make the determination on his soul's eternal home.  Thankfully, that rests with the Righteous Judge.  But I do know this -- his decision is now final.  He cannot change it.  What he decided in this life is now his decision to live with for eternity, for better or for worse.

So, my takeaway is this -- be ready.  We never know when this is the end.  It could come when you are young, youngish, oldish, or old.  I could walk out the door today, be hit by a car, and die.  I know where I am going.  Do you?  Do your family, and friends?  Please, please, don't wait until the decision is unchangeable.  Grab hold of Christ, follow Him, lean on Him, obey Him.  Make Him Lord -- truly Lord -- of your life.  Then, no matter the manner and timing of your death, you will be ready.  You can live and die without fear of judgment.  "Therefore there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." (Rom. 8:1, NASB)

Out to Dinner with the Doctor

Sunday evening, I took the Doctor out to dinner.  She is my "academic" child, the one who learns things so quickly, who I am not so much homeschooling as I am getting out of her way as she rapidly assimilates knowledge at speeds I cannot accurately describe.

And in all of that, I forget how young she is.  I easily forget that she's not even a year and a half older than the Cowgirl.

I forget how fun she can be, how silly and giggly.  I forget sometimes how much a child she is, and SHOULD be.  Because, well, she's still a child, still single-digits old.

So tonight, I let her have caffeine, and too much sugar.  And laughed and giggled with her as the 57 squirrels that run in her brain (normally in the same direction) jumped track and ran in 57 different directions at once.  And incredibly intelligent child hopped up on caffeine and sugar (a VERY rare occurrence in our family!) is a sight to behold!

But fun is what she and I needed most in our relationship right now.  She's often so serious, learning so much, and so quickly, that I think even she forgets to just be a kid.  She has big dreams and plans, but I don't want her to lose sight of NOW, of FUN, and childhood.  And as her mama, it's easy for me to let those things fall through the cracks, because I am a serious person by nature.  I am a goal-setter, a dreamer of big future dreams, too.  And I too, forget how to be fun, how to be here now.  She is so very much my child.  And I am so very thankful she is my daughter.

The Cowgirl and the Concert

My middle child, the Cowgirl, and I walked to a local church for a cello and viola concert/recital on Sunday afternoon.

This is my "quiet" child, the one who tells me that she likes the quiet.  Frequently, when I take her places without her sisters, she doesn't say a word in the car.  Her brain runs on a different channel, too, on a different frequency than mine or her sisters'.

Saturday, she was watching college football with her Daddy, another activity she enjoys.  Sunday was music.  Her interests are broad -- animals, music (particularly cello), and college football.  She is funny, silly, and oh! so entertaining.  She reads people quite well, uncannily so.  Her love for others isn't as exuberant as Fidget's, but more helpful.  She will quietly do what is needed, without much fuss or fanfare.  She looks for ways to help, for things to DO.

At the concert, she asked the cellist a question during a Q and A session.  This lady knew from her question that she played some kind of instrument.  I think the Cowgirl was a little embarrassed to be spotted like that.  She doesn't really like being the center of attention, but she sure does like having her questions answered, her curiosity satisfied.

The walk home was pretty typical for her, full of off-beat funny and a multitude of faces.  And excitement to be home, to be back with her sisters.  Because that's the other big thing about the Cowgirl.  She truly would rather be home than anywhere else.

Fidget and the Play

Fidget loves people.  Genuinely loves them.  If she has met you, she "knows" you, and will be over-the-moon excited to see you.  She WILL run across the room to hug you, probably knocking you a bit backwards in the process.  And people light up when she's around.  Even as a preschooler, she has the innate ability to make each person feel loved and important.  It's a gift, and a responsibility.

So, I took her to see a play this weekend.  One in which several of the people she loves best had roles, either on stage or behind it.  She sat through the play about like you'd expect a preschooler to.  She waved so excitedly at our pastor's oldest daughter that she momentarily "broke" character and waved a finger at Fidget while on stage.  That's her effect on people.

But afterwards -- OH! afterwards! -- she hugged everyone she knew.  She shouted names, helped fold and move chairs, hugged people again, met new people, and generally worked the room.

She doesn't get this from me.  This is NOT how I am.  I meet people, yes, and will speak to anyone.  But I am not the hug-everyone, remember-all-the-names, wave-frantically, light-up-when-I-see-someone-I've-met-once type.  I am more the call on me when things are bad and I will move heaven and earth to help friend, not the let's celebrate the fact that we saw each other friend.

God has given her a genuine love for people.  A love that makes them light up, feel special, and seriously look for her in a crowd.  Older kids and teens seek her out for hugs and smiles.  Adults light up when she walks in the room, because she is THAT excited to see them.  And she really, truly MEANS it.  It's not an act to manipulate.  It's real.

Oh that God would grant me the ability to love like my youngest!  Genuinely, and without reservation.

My Weekend

This weekend did not turn out at all the way I expected.  Saturday afternoon, I went to a play with Fidget, and then on Sunday, I took the Cowgirl to a cello/viola concert, and the Doctor out to dinner and some shopping.

Three very different activities, two of which were entirely unplanned on as of Saturday morning.  My wonderfully flexible husband allowed me to traipse off with each one in turn, and the time spent one-on-one with each was an enormous blessing to me, as I hope it was to each of them.

So this week, I will be sharing a bit about each child.  Not much, but a bit about how each outing went, and things that I see in each of them.  Why I am thankful for each of them in our family.

Creation and the Fall

Recently, I was struck by how much beauty there still is in this world.  When Adam and Eve sinned that first time, much that is unlovely entered the world.  Death, decay, disease, difficulty during work, and painful childbirth, just to name a few.  But God did not remove ALL the beauty.  There is still much beauty that surrounds us.

Laughter, mountains, the ocean, flowers, hummingbirds.  My children's faces, marriage, music.  All were left for us to revel in, to see and thank God for.  A starry night, good food, friendship.  He could have taken all of this away.  After all, it's what we deserve.  Hell, whether here on earth, or for all eternity.  It's no more or less than we have earned.

But He didn't.  He left many beautiful things for us, to point us to Him.  How like God.

Lessons for my Children -- I Mean, Me!

I have been reading the Little House series aloud to the girls each afternoon, about a half-hour a day.  As we read the stories, I marvel at the sweetness of both Laura and Mary.  I am touched by how little they "neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed" or even want.

And I am tempted.  I am tempted to point out to my children, "See, girls!  You see how Laura and Mary were excited to receive a cup for their Christmas present?!  And how a peppermint stick and a little cake were a bonus, and more than enough?  And how that shiny penny apiece were 'almost too much'?  See girls, they didn't have much at all, but were thankful for every little thing."

But then I am reminded to look at Caroline.  "Ma" cooked over an open fire, either outdoors (let that sink in -- she did all her family's meals camping-style, even when they lived in a house!) or indoors (over her fireplace).  Glass windowpanes were a luxury not always to be had, and when Charles brought home fabric for her to make a new dress for herself, she didn't tell him she'd rather have picked the fabric herself.  No!  She told him it was all too much.  Her heart was that of a homemaker, a loving wife and mother.  She had so little, and asked for not much more than that.  And she was thankful for it all.  She found reason to be thankful when her chimney caught fire and almost burned her home and family down.  She found reason to be thankful when her home was burglarized as she and her children were standing there, looking on, unable to stop the thieves. 

And I am convicted.  I have so much -- too much, if I am honest.  All of my needs, and the vast majority of my wants, and yet I want "more."  Instead of thankfulness, my heart is greedy.  I know that more, bigger, newer, faster, better won't make me happy, but I sure want to find out for myself.  Just to make sure.

The little apples don't fall far from the tree, I'm afraid.  If I am ungrateful, I cannot expect to find gratefulness in my children.  If I am constantly seeking fulfillment in "stuff," I cannot be exasperated when I notice my children doing the same.  I cannot lecture them into a better way.  If I do that, all I am teaching them is hypocrisy.  I am teaching them that as long as the words are correct, the works don't matter.  And that is a lesson far too easily taught and learned in this world.

So, I keep these thoughts to myself.  I am learning.  And one day, maybe I'll understand this whole parenting thing.  Possibly in time for the grandbabies to start coming.

Perspective

Today was the International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church.  Of course, our pastor spoke on persecution throughout history, both of the Jewish people, and of Christians.

To say it was a tough sermon would be a gross understatement.  I know it's cliché, but hearing the stories of men, women, children, and families being mistreated, abused, kicked out of their homes, killed, or forced to watch as their family members are killed really brought home how very small my problems are.  And how big God is.

A God who sustains these men and women as they face the worst this world has to offer, and still has time to hear my prayers over the nothingness that are my "needs."  A God who loves those killing His children, loves them enough to save them, should they repent.  And still loves me, in spite of my cowardice.  A God who holds all of history, and chooses, for His own good reasons, to allow this all to happen.  A God who truly sees the big picture of it all, whose heart breaks with His children, and who sings over His sons and daughters.  A God who longs for relationship, and who created that same longing within us.  This same God wants each of us, wants YOU to be His.  How incredible, how amazing is that?!

Building Up, or Tearing Down

Have you ever seen a building implode?  In mere seconds, a building that took months to build becomes a pile of rubble.  I know there's a lot of work that goes into it beforehand, to make sure that the building doesn't fall down on the neighbors.  But in the end, tearing down only takes minutes, or even seconds.

Building that building took months, or even years.

Let that sink in.  Building up takes far more time and effort than tearing down.

I can build up my brothers and sisters in Christ for years, decades even, and all that can be undone in moments by bad choices.

My witness can be decimated with just a few bad decisions.  And Christ's reputation is harmed.

I can leave friendships and family relationships broken and bleeding by my refusal to take the log from my own eye first.  It's really not that hard.

And yes, there is a time to tear down, as well as a time to build up.  There is certainly a time to tear down rotten walls, or poor foundation.  But then the rebuilding comes.  And it takes time.  Much more time that the tearing down.

Every day, I must decide if today is a day of tearing down or building up.  I must make a conscious choice as to whether or not I'm going to build up the foundation and walls of my husband and children, of my relationship with God.

Today, I chose to build.  It's slow work, sometimes painfully slow.  But one day, I will reap the rewards of the work, if I do not quit.  Maybe (probably), some portions will need tearing down one day.  No one is perfect, and I am certainly no exception.  But as God helps, and He allows, I will build up those around me.

With a Heavy Heart

"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints." Psalm 116:15 (ESV)

Sometimes the reality of death is heavier than others.  It bears down, darkens the edges of our vision, and makes our hearts heavy.

Today is such a day.  You see, two people have died today.  One young, unexpectedly, the result of a tragic automobile accident.  The other, older, the matriarch of four generations of family, ill for many years and rapidly declining.  Neither one knew the other, but I knew them both.  One was family, the other a friend.  Both loved their Lord, and leave behind many grieving.

But their deaths are precious to God.  No longer separate from Him, they are both, today, with Him forever, singing, laughing and dancing with Jesus.  They are actually MORE alive today than they were yesterday, or even the day they were born.

This life is but a mere shadow of existence.  A shadow that seems real to us, because we are also shadows.  One day, we will also live this reality, be a part of this reality.

But for now, death looms, and those left behind grieve.

Celebrating the Moment

Two days ago, Fidget read her first book.  Actually, she read her first WORD, and then went on to read the rest of the book.  And one more.

When she read that first word, the Cowgirl came running around the corner screaming, "Did she just READ?!  Did Fidget just READ?!"

"Yes, she did!"

Lots of girly screaming ensued as my middle daughter celebrated with my youngest.  We did finish the book, and then posted a picture on Facebook.  The Cowgirl and Fidget then proceeded to celebrate with high excitement, squealing and running around and dancing and so forth.  Then I loaded up the girls into the van and we got ice cream.

These moments are the ones every homeschooling mama lives for.  The celebratory ones, where everyone is present.  The high excitement and encouragement of sisters.  Those "ice cream" moments.

I Am NOT Enough

There are several posts/pins floating around Facebook and Pinterest (and maybe other places, but I'm only on those two.)  It goes through various statements about "I am ...."  and ends with "And I am enough."

But that's simply not true.  I am not enough.  I am not enough by design.  I am not enough for my husband, my children, my parents, friends, brother and sister, and so forth.  I am not enough even for me!

I have tried the whole "being enough" thing.  And the weight is too much to bear.  I have tried to do it all, or at least give the appearance of doing it all.  I have tried so very hard not to need anyone else.  And I have failed miserably in the attempt.  And yet, I continued to try.  And worse, I looked to others to "be enough" at times.

Here's the thing -- there is One Who Is Enough.  But only One.

And my "not enough-ness" is designed to point me and others to His enough-ness.  My finite capabilities to meet needs, solve problems, and take care of things is not an accident.  God does not do things by accident.  He wants us to depend on Him,  He wants us to look to Him as our "enough."  And then, He wants us to point others to Him as enough.

So, if I set myself up as "enough," then I hamper others.  I put a stumbling block between them and God.  I set myself up in God's place in their lives.  And that is a very dangerous thing indeed!

When I claim to be enough, even for me, I make the claim to not need God.  But I am finite.  And the need is infinite.  I have limits, but the need is deeper, broader, and far more than my limits can reach.  You see, the true need is salvation, a relationship with the Creator.  And I cannot meet that need.  I cannot save anyone, not even myself.

I am not enough.  And that is the glorious, freeing, scary truth.

Choosing to Praise

God's "no" is always better than my "yes."  No matter how hard I want something.  No matter what glory I think God might gain if I got my way, His "no" (or "wait" -- sometimes it is hard to tell them apart in the middle of waiting) is ALWAYS better.  We have to look no further than the Old Testament book of Genesis to find our example.  In fact, no further than the Garden of Eden.  And then again at the whole Abraham-Sarah-Hagar-Ishmael-Isaac drama to see why waiting on God or accepting His no is so much better than forcing my way.  The whole world is still reeling from both of those decisions.

While in my situation, I cannot really force a "yes," I still have a choice.  I can choose to grumble and complain or I can choose to praise.

And praise I will.  I will praise Him in the "no", and I will praise Him FOR the "no."  It's really the only chance I have to give God the glory in all this.  He knows best.  Even when I do not understand.

And, contrary to what I would love to believe, God is not primarily interested in my happiness, wealth, or health.  He is interested in remaking me -- taking the sinful lump of clay that is me and turning my into a vessel that looks like Christ.  He is primarily interested in my holiness.  I would love it if this life were to be easy, full of wealth, full of happiness, full of health.  But then there would be no change.  I would be left self-centered, unholy, and ultimately, I would become the least lovely version of myself -- full of sin, and unchecked appetites.  I would be a living example of The Picture of Dorian Gray.

So I will praise God, who in His infinite wisdom, made the things of this world finite.  Who tells me "no" (or "wait") when I beg and cry for a "yes."  I will praise Him because He loves me enough to set limits.  I will seek to bring Him glory, and to enjoy Him, not just in the no, but because of it, too.

Praising in the Storm

Two and a half weeks ago, the Engineer spent four days and three nights in the hospital.  Starting on Monday, and ending on Thursday.  It took a couple of days to figure out what was wrong with him.

It started off with a fear of meningitis.  Then, tuberculosis.  The first was quickly ruled out (praise God!).  The second took a little longer...

Wonderful friends took the girls Monday evening (and then again all day Tuesday).  Monday night, I picked up my precious three girlies and was driving home.  I found myself singing.  Softly, almost without thought.

The Cowgirl asked me what I was singing.  So I sang louder.  I sang hymns.  The hymns that contain so very much rich theology.  The hymns that have helped inform my faith.  Hymns by men and women that have loved the Lord, clung to Him through adversity, the likes of which I may never face.  Hymns that stuck in my ears and in my heart.

I found myself, not just clinging to God, but praising Him.  Praising Him for who He is, for how He has gone before.  Through these timeless words penned centuries ago.  Words and melodies that link me to believers long dead, believers that have walked this path before me.  Not just to the hymn-writers, but to the centuries of hymn-singers, as well.  Fellow worshipers who have gone to these same hymns countless times, through adversity, and pain, and plenty, and mountaintops.

And this is why I mourn the loss of hymns in the church.  That link to the past, that theology learned through the music of the saints long past.  The idea that "if others can do this, so can I" that comes almost unconsciously.

Modern music is missing that -- that link to the saints.  It's not long-lasting.  No one in a hundred years will be singing the "praise music" we sing today.  I fear the push to make us "relevant" has made us merely worldly.  Instead of being truly different, truly timeless, we have settled for "cool" and "hip," both concepts that are bound, by definition, to time.

When nothing is different from what folks can find in the gym, or the country club, or even the casino, why would they choose the church? 

When my children go through hard times, will they sing the songs they hear now, ones long out of fashion by then?  Will they go to songs that are in vogue at that time?  Or will the long for something more -- something deeper, something that speaks of saints before clinging to God and the cross?  Will they long for a link to men and women with stories of perseverance through the unthinkable, of a God bigger than all of this life?  And more importantly, will they find that link?  Will it still be there?

Nice, or Kind?

I very much dislike the word "nice."  It brings forth images of people with no real life in them.  No opinions, no truth, no ideas.  I believe it's the foundation of Political Correctness, of "Your Truth" and "My Truth."

Kindness, however, is a part of the fruit of the Spirit.  Kindness is sometimes not at all "nice".  It sometimes requires hurting someone's feelings when there's been a wrong done.  Kindness steps on toes, extends grace, and comes from a heart of obedience to God.

Niceness is a self-centered plea along the lines of, "Everyone, please like me!"

Kindness does not care about being liked, but simply desires what is truly best for another person.

Kindness often involves hard conversations and awkward silences, allowing the other person space, and the Holy Spirit time to work.

Kindness is what drives me, as mom, to expect obedience from my children.  It is what pushes me to raise the standard high for them, to push them to try and not give up.  Kindness is what impels me to speak the truth lovingly to my children when they are in the wrong.  It is the same thing that protects them when others would harm them.

"Nice" is not what I expect of my children.  "Kind" most definitely is.

In the Wilderness

In the life of every homeschool family with more than one child, there is a day -- a day where the children bicker, where the end of mama's patience has been reached, where grace is needed more than ever, but it seems that there is less than ever to give.  When obedience is just a pipe dream, and mama begins to question her calling to this journey.

We typically call that day Wednesday.  At least so far this year, Wednesdays have been our wilderness.  They seem to last from the dawn of time until eternity, and every. last. minute. seems to be wrought with trouble.

I don't have any easy solutions.  No steps to stop sibling strife, or fool-proof ways to teach absolute obedience, or even just ways to make it through the day without major tears.  None.  And really, even if I did, it would only be management tools.

Because at the end of the day, the trouble is the heart.  And I cannot change their little hearts.  I cannot change my OWN heart.  I can only point them (and me) to the One Who Changes Hearts.  I can fix my heart on His, and pray that will spill over into my family, into our Wednesday wilderness.

I am not saying that managing behavior is unimportant, just that it isn't the main thing.  The main thing is the gospel.  Pointing little hearts to the One who can change them, mold them into His image. 

In the end, I pray that through all of this, my girls hear, see, taste, touch, and smell the gospel each day.  And when I fail (and I will, more than I will succeed), I pray that they can see true repentance and grace lived in a fallen world, with frail and imperfect people.

You see, we're all the same -- my children, me, you, your neighbors, their kids (and yours, too!) -- we're all sinners in desperate need of a Savior.  And pointing each other to Him is the most loving and kind thing we can do.

What if...

          The first question of the Westminster Shorter Catechism is "What is the chief end of man?"  The answer -- "Man's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever." 

          What if that became our prayer, that we glorify God and enjoy Him -- now, tomorrow, next week, while we're still here?  I don't believe that just because it's the end that it cannot also be the now.

          What if, instead of focusing on all those other things -- things that divide us, like clothes, food, child-rearing, family size, schooling method, and so forth -- we focused on teaching our children, teens, and even fellow adults to seek to "glorify God and enjoy Him" now.  Instead of chasing the latest "Christian" fad (or anti-fad), what if we used the timeless standard of Scripture to encourage one another to do what Christians have been striving to do for two millennia? 

          What if, instead of looking cross-eyed at each other because Christ has called and equipped us as different parts of the same body, we allowed that to be the means of glorifying Him and enjoying Him?  What if, in disagreements over opinion, we encouraged each other the glorify and enjoy God right now, right here in spite of -- and because of -- our differences?

          How could God change us if we focused on glorifying and enjoying Him?  Too many of us either glorify self, or fail to enjoy God, or (in my case) both.

          So, it is my prayer that I begin to glorify God and enjoy Him daily.  I will fail.  I will get discouraged.  I will not "feel" like doing it.  But, with God's help, I will glorify and enjoy Him while in the here and now.  For that is where true joy is found.

Tough Week, and Random Thoughts

It's been a tough week this week.  The Engineer has been in the hospital, and that means juggling the girls, hospital visits, updating family and friends (our family is all "away" from us), and trying to fit in school and housework.  Plus sleep...  So, forgive me if I'm a bit incoherent.

First of all, I have never been more thankful for my own mother!  When we were little, she let us "help" whenever we asked.  Even if that meant our "help" doubled or tripled her workload.  Why am I thankful?  Because her example has led me to do the same for my girls.  From the time they could say, "I hep, peese?"  I let them.  And this week, it has paid off in spades!  All those hours of letting tiny-littles load and unload dryers at a snail's pace, clean the lint trap, load and "unload" the dishwasher, fold washcloths, etc., have been time well spent:
The Doctor and the Cowgirl can run laundry from start to finish all by themselves.  Fidget cleans the lint trap like a pro.  While they haven't actually had to do all the laundry this week, it is such a blessing to be able to ask them to switch over a load, start a load, and empty the dryer, and know it will be done well and thoroughly.
The Doctor and the Cowgirl can do a load of dishes from loading to unloading.  Even Fidget can load her dishes, add soap, and start the washer.
The Doctor and the Cowgirl can clean a bathroom.  Without oversight.  It's not "white glove" clean, but certainly clean enough for company.
During a week of turmoil, this is a major blessing.  From my mom to me, many years later.  And I am grateful.

Another random thought -- night nurses are my new heroes.  They look after people at their most vulnerable -- sick and at night.  Any mom knows that nighttime is when illness gets worse, sometimes much worse.  These ladies and gentlemen perform many thankless and undesirable tasks day in, day out.  And generally, the only time they hear anything is when there's a complaint.  Yet, they keep working.  And I am grateful.

Those are my random (semi-coherent) thoughts for today.

The Other Side of Boredom

          It seems like everywhere I look, someone is pinning or posting or blogging about boredom and children, with titles similar to "27 Activities Guaranteed to Beat Boredom!" or "101 Boredom-Busters to Help Your Kids Have the Most Fun This Summer!" or "Be the Coolest Mom EVER!  Tips to Keep Boredom at Bay This Summer."  (Note: none of these are actual titles.  I just made them up based on pins and blogs and posts I've seen.  Though, some titles really are that silly!)  This is my response to that whole category... 

          Here's how the conversation has gone in our house a few times per child, usually sometime between their 4th and 6th birthday:

          Child:  "Mama, I'm BOOOOOOORED." (glassy eyed stare)

          Me: "Boredom is good for you." (unblinking stare, and silence)

          It usually only takes a half-dozen or so times for them to learn that their boredom is not my problem, and they stop.  If this happens again when they are older, I will quote the saying, "only the boring get bored" or maybe find another such quote for them then. 

          Why do I believe that boredom is "good" for them?  It's what I have seen that lies on the other side of that boredom. 

          Boredom is the monster lurking at the end of entertainment.  It's the sneaky swamp-thing that lies at the end of the movie, or the dull nothing at the end of a book.  It's that beast that dulls the mind after a party or outing or field trip.  I have found that boredom most often comes when I am left to my own devices to come up with something to occupy my time and thoughts. 

          But at the other end of boredom, when I have faced that monster, that swamp-thing, that nothing, is my creativity, my imagination, my best and brightest self.  The overcoming of boredom, if channeled well, is beauty, and creation, and fun!  If not channeled well, this can become destructive, ugly, and mean.  I must choose, and choose well! 

          Mastering boredom helps my children exercise their imaginations, to test what they are capable of, to see the beauty of their own imagination.  I have watched them make toys from paper and tape, read books that challenged their reading level, create their own games, turn sticks into ninja swords (then run across the yard, brandishing their ninja swords at imaginary enemies), and many other things.  All because of boredom that was channeled or staved off because of active imaginations. 

          If I had chosen to entertain them instead, none of these things would have happened.  And, knowing my children, the entertainment would have ended, leaving a vacuum (boredom!) that had to be filled time and time again.  It becomes an endless spiral.  For my girls (and I suspect, most children), the more "entertainment" given to them, the quicker the boredom sets in.  When largely left to do their own entertaining, I seldom hear "I'm bored!"  (Almost never, in fact.) 

          I guess I need to remind myself of this, under the relentless pressure to prove I'm a "good mommy" by endlessly entertaining my children, or providing them expensive and electronic means to entertain them.  As I see pin after pin or read blog after blog or FB share after FB share of what "good mommies" are doing to entertain their children, I often wonder if I am messing up.  Then I look outside and see my dirt-covered children smiling and laughing in the back yard, making up their own games and feeding crickets to the chickens.  And I realize I'm not.  I realize I don't actually feel the conviction do be doing these things, just the "mom-guilt" because I'm comparing myself to others.  I'm picking that burden back up, one I'm not meant to carry.

A Week at Home

We sold one home and bought a new one in January.  The home we bought didn't have evaporative coolers or air conditioning.  (Known out here as "swamp coolers" or "refrigerated air" respectively.)  So, this week, we've been having swamp coolers installed.  Yes, two of them, because of the layout of the house.

This has forced me to stay home this week.  We have to let the men in and out of the house, as well as put the dog up while they're here.  The exception was Tuesday, when the girls had violin and cello lessons.  But, the contractors had a previous engagement that day, anyway!

As I sit here, the girls are playing in the yard, coming in and out on a relatively cool morning. 
We've played with kinetic sand (one of Fidget's birthday presents), and discovered that it's sand and silly putty, according to one website. (Here)  We've decided to buy some sand and silly putty and try to make it.  (Once we can leave the house, that is!)  Maybe I'll take pictures and post them here.
We've played Just Dance Disney, and learned that the Cowgirl dances circles around all of us.
The girls had a "sister sleepover" (read: they all slept in one sister's room), and have begged for another.
We've done minimal chores, and just enjoyed the time together.
The Cowgirl has been reading Black Beauty for the last couple of days.  She rarely puts it down, even to eat.
Last night, we let them stay up late and watch The Lego Movie.
This morning, we watched YouTube videos of bagpipes.  Why?  Because the girls had never seen bagpipes before, and their cello teacher had asked them if they had.  Being curious children, they wanted to see and hear bagpipes.  They learned they like bagpipe music.  With their family tree, that's a good thing!  (The Engineer has neckties in the family plaid.)

In short, the girls have had the kind of week that should be every kid's summer -- bubbles, and squirt guns, and mud pies, and books, and laughter.  No real structure, no real agenda.  Lots of time to be "bored" and discover what lies at the other end of that boredom.

I'm looking out the window, and I see Fidget with a blanket tied on, cape-style, tail dragging the ground.  Probably, she's some kind of princess or queen.  Most likely, Frozen related.  How she isn't hot, I'll never know.  But I do know her hands are covered in mud, her face dirty.

I can hear the Cowgirl, turning pages on her book and occasionally commenting on the pretend going on around her.

I would love to bottle these days, to save them for the dead of winter when the days cold and short, and so is patience.  I would open the bottle, let in the sunshine and fresh air, the laughter and laziness, the boredom and what lies on the other side of that boredom.

All-in-all, it's been a good week.  A week of "yeses" said because there was nowhere we had to go.

Things I Love: the End

I love a good project.  You know why?  Because there is an END!  And, like any good project, this one is ending today.

Did I do all 30 days?  No.  I guess by that measurement, the project was a failure.

But, the purpose of this project was to make me focus on the things for which I am thankful, and to be mindful of showing love to those around me.  By that measurement, the project was a success.  Because I knew I would have to write about it, I was more mindful of things for which I am thankful.  And as I focused on some, I began to see more.

It also challenged me in ways that I did not foresee.  I realized how very blessed I am, and how very little I give in return.  That's a shameful admission, but there it is.

I need to be serving more.  I need to be giving of myself more.  I don't know HOW yet.  I don't know where, or to whom.  But I know there are plenty of people who need, who struggle for the basic needs.

In my day to day life, I am apt to focus on the short-comings, the things that nag at me, or needle me, or just bother me.  (That's a whole lotta "me" there!)  But, in truth, I have been blessed on this earth beyond what I deserve, beyond what I would have though possible just a few short years ago.  With these blessings is an expectation that I will share them with others.  But how?  That's a matter for prayer and consideration.  I am sure that as I seek His will, He will show me.

Things I Love: Facebook

There's been a lot said about Facebook on various blogs.  Posts about jealousy, and how people make things look "better" than they are, and how studies show links between time spent on FB and depression.  I'm not going to try and refute any of that.  I'm not going to defend it, either.

What I am going to say is this -- I love Facebook.  It keeps me up-to-date on what my cute nieces and nephews are doing; it helps me know how to pray for people that I would never see in person (I live 1500 miles away from where I grew up, remember); it helps me celebrate births, engagements, marriages, graduations, and so forth of those same people and their children. 

It allows me to request prayer from people all over the country, people who never see me in person.  It allows me to tell funny stories and share pictures of my children with people who love them most.  It allows me to publicly thank people for being so amazing, or to share stories of "over and above" service we receive. 

Sure, it can be a breeding ground of negatives.  You know what, though.  That just gives me insight into areas where I need to repent and allow God to work in my life.

FB also provides a place of encouragement.  I can see other parents' struggles.  I can gain insight into not being alone.  I can ask for advice, or just prayer as I struggle.  Mostly, it helps me know that I'm not alone in this, that other people are going through the same thing.

I guess, like most things, FB is what you make of it.  For me, with three youngish children, in my daily homeschooling journey, it's easy for me to hole up and "do my own thing."  FB provides a place of connection and encouragement.


OK, the daily "what I did."  Today, I thanked the parents on FB for sharing their children.  The silly, cute, and funny things.  It was just time that someone did.

Things I Love: Fidget

Today is Fidget's birthday!  She's so full of fun and life and energy.  She's loving and kind, and has never met a stranger.  We are so blessed to have her as our youngest, and I can't wait to see what the next year brings for her.

Showing love today was "all about Fidget."  Starting the morning was French toast.  After that we went to the local children's science museum, and ate at her choice of restaurant.  Well, her second choice.  The first one was too expensive!  Then on to Costco for groceries, and then home.  So very grateful for this little human who joined our family not so many years ago!

Things I Love: Roses

We bought our house in January, when roses are not blooming.  Basically, we had thorny sticks in the "flower bed" when we moved in.  And the Doctor and I had a conversation that went something like this:
Her: "Mama, wouldn't it be great if one of those bushes had pink roses for you and Sarah, one had yellow for Mary, and one had purple for me?"
Me: "That would be wonderful, but, doll baby, lavender is the closest to 'purple' in roses, and they are fairly uncommon.  Don't get your hopes up."  (I had never seen lavender roses on the bush, just infrequently in stores.)
Her: "Maybe one will be red, then."
Me: "Maybe so."

Well, wouldn't you know it?!  When the bushes started blooming, there are at least two pink with creamy centers (one light pink, one dark), one yellow and one LAVENDER!  At least two of the bushes have yet to bloom, so we'll see what they are (maybe soon!)  I cannot believe the gift God gave my girl.  She wanted lavender roses, and God gave her lavender roses.  And this morning she said to me, "I like these better than red."


Today, I cut the six roses that were in their "final days" and brought them inside.  Normally, I would leave them outside, but I thought we needed a "pick up" after all the party planning, cooking, and cleaning that went on before and after the party.  The girls love "their" roses, quickly claiming their favorite colors.  They are a spot of beauty, I must admit.

Things I Love: Boiled Peanuts

Every year about this time, a box arrives in the mail.  It's from my parents, and it includes about ten pounds of raw, green peanuts.  And I boil them.  And we eat them, loving every minute.

Boiled peanuts are a delicacy known only in the South.  And as a Southern Girl, I miss them.  So. Very. Much.

And to show my love for others, I share them with my family. ;)

Things I Love: My Kids' Friends

We just had the birthday party for the Cowgirl and Fidget.  And I must say -- I LOVE their friends.  Those kids are amazing little people with amazing parents.  Young as they are (and there are some young ones!), they are just a joy to be around.  I am very thankful for them, and for their places in my girls' lives.

Showing love today was easy.  I worked in the church nursery, so that parents could worship without distraction from their babies.  Our church totally welcomes the tinies into service, but we also provide nursery for those who would prefer that time without distraction.  And I so enjoy that small act of service each month.  There truly is nothing quite like snuggling the littles for a couple hours.

Things I Love: My Kitchen

Tomorrow is the Cowgirl and Fidget's birthday party.  So I've been spending time in the kitchen today, baking goodies.  And I was struck by how much I love my kitchen.

I baked three cakes, a huge cookie (an entire batch in one giant cookie), and nineteen cupcakes all in one oven, all at the same time.  That makes me so very happy.

Though not large, my kitchen is a workhorse.  When we bought the house we're in, we decided I could get a couple new appliances for the kitchen.  So, I was able to get a double convection oven and an induction cooktop.  I am so very thankful for them both, and am constantly amazed at how well they work, how much they can do.  With counter space at a premium, having a smooth-topped stove has almost doubled the workable space.  It's not perfect, there are a few more changes I'd love to make, but I definitely love my kitchen.  And I will admit that's a first.  I've never had a kitchen I loved before.

Sooo, loving others.  Today, I am getting ready for the younger girls' party.  We are planning on nearly 50 people visiting us tomorrow late afternoon and staying through a cookout supper.  That means cooking and cleaning today.  Not because I feel the need to "impress" them -- they are our friends, after all, and all of them have children; but because I love them, and want to show them that.  One way is to make the house "nice" and have good food (and plenty of it, as there will be teen and near-teen boys there!)  They are taking time out of their busy lives to visit us and share our girls' birthdays with us, and the least I can do is make sure they are comfortable and welcome in our home.

Things I Love: the Cowgirl

Today is the Cowgirl's birthday!  I LOVE my Cowgirl.  I wish I could get "her" on paper.  Full of personality, she is fun, and fiery, and dramatic.  She knows what she likes, and doesn't care for surprises (or change).  She loves people and animals, and is amazing at finding ways to help without being asked.  She thrives on being with people.  At the same time, she is the quite one of our crew.  (Which by no means equates to "quiet" by a normal definition!)  But, unless she actually has something to say, she'll be pretty quiet.

Her brain works quickly, and uniquely.  Certainly not in the same direction as my brain!  As soon as you think you know where she's headed with something, she takes that "right turn at Albuquerque" that Bugs Bunny was so adept at missing.

So, Happy Birthday, Cowgirl!  The Engineer, the Doctor, Fidget, and I all love you more than you can imagine!

What are the ways we'll show the Cowgirl we love her?  Well, today will be packed!  We'll be eating meals she requested (pancakes for breakfast, tacos for supper).  Lunch will be PBJ at the zoo, where we will be meeting her best friend's family to spend the morning.  She already has her gifts from us (those chickens and their habitat are hers).  We do have one small surprise for her, but since it's Hello Kitty, I think it will be safe! ;)

Things I Love: Appliances and Two More

I'm a couple of days behind, but I have a good excuse reason.  My dryer blew up on Tuesday morning, which is laundry day around here.  With the way I have organized/decluttered the clothing (at least for the girls and me), that has made for an interesting week in our house!

So, first of all, I love modern appliances (when they work).  I mean, think about it -- our ancestors beat their dirty laundry out in a creek on a rock, then hung them out to dry.  They graduated to washboards and washtubs, then very dangerous washing machines.  Now, we have safe, effective machines.  We put in dirty clothes, and get back clean clothes.  They're wet, but most of the time, a dryer is available.  If we don't want the chore of carrying the heavy, wet clothes outside, then bending and hanging them, only to reverse the process when they're dry; we can plop them into a basket, scoot the basket over three feet (or so), and cram those heavy, wet, CLEAN clothes into a dryer, turn in on, then dry them.  The same is true for dishes.  Just plunk them in the magic box, add soap, press a button, and VIOLA, clean dishes!  It's really pretty amazing, if you take the time to think about it.  Vacuum cleaners, cars, refrigerators, freezers, ice makers, and so forth!  Some require more effort than others, but all the same, they free us up from much of the manual labor that our foremothers did.  And to be honest, many women around the world are still doing much of that manual labor.  It's an amazing blessing!  And yet, all too often, I complain about having to fold that laundry, or unload that dishwasher, or clean out the fridge.

So, my next love for the last three days is understanding (and insanely generous) friends.  Two lovely women, when hearing of my misfortune, offered me their dryers.  Wow!  Both have homes-full of children of their own, with their own laundry to tackle, housework to do, and they offered to let me take up their dryers!  I mean, how amazingly generous!

Third, I love parts stores.  I called the local appliance parts store on Tuesday afternoon, gave them the model number of my dryer, told them what part I needed (without a part number), and they shipped it out to me.  It should be here today.  I called the next day, with another broken part, and they had it in stock. The Engineer picked it up yesterday morning.  It's entirely possible that this will be a memory by this evening.

OK, so with all this love, how am I going to turn that around and love those around me?  I am going to try to be more mindful of things around me.  I'm going to try to remember these things are blessings, and that there are those who are (still) doing things "the hard way."  After all, that's really the point of this series anyway...

Things I Love: the Engineer's Job

My list of 30 things I love is really an exercise in gratitude.  I tend to see the "downside" of everything.  I tend to focus on what's wrong, what I would change, what "makes" me unhappy.  I decided this month to focus on the things that, instead, are the lovely things in my life, the things I am happy are here, the things (and people) I love.

Today, I love my husband's job.  First, I am grateful he has a job.  That's one of those things that really, truly, should not be taken for granted.  Especially right now.  I am also loving the fact that his job (along with lifestyle choices we've made) enables me to be home.  Sure, if I worked, we'd be able to do more, buy more, give more, etc., but we believe my being home is truly the best thing for the family.

I also love how the Engineer's company views family time.  Generally speaking, once he's off, he's off.  Phone calls (a rare occurrence) nearly always begin with, "I'm sorry to bother him and you on his day off, but is the Engineer home?"  It's a lovely thing, that acknowledgement.  In a sentence, it's an admission that they do not own him, that he is a whole person, not simply an employee; that they pay him for the time he's there, not all 24 hours in a day, 7 days a week.  (Yes, there are quite a few companies that do not know the difference!)

So, how do I love with this in mind?  Well, I try not to bother the Engineer while he's at work.  Generally, I keep phone calls to less than 5 minutes total per work week.  Also, I do not gripe at him when he works late.  He's a man of integrity, one driven to complete his job well and thoroughly.  He's also a man who loves his family.  He knows the needs of both, and I trust him to make wise decisions.

Things I Love: the Engineer

        I love my husband.  Today being Father's Day, I know it's cliché to say it, but I do.  He's incredibly talented at so many things.  He's conscientious, intelligent, and has a high degree of integrity.
        He excels at more things than any one human being has a right to.  I am blessed to be his wife, and our children are blessed to be his daughters.
        I'm not entirely sure how to sum up one person in a post like this, so I won't even try.  Just suffice it to say that the Engineer is a man among men.

Things I Love: The Right Tool for the Job

          One of the benefits of marriage is what you learn from your spouse.  Today's "love" is something the Engineer taught me early in our marriage.  I love the right tool for the job.  Now, this does not mean I am willing to have 975 gadgets laying around, each one doing only one or two "jobs," particularly in the kitchen or sewing room.  No, the majority of my tools must do double duty, or their function must be worth their limitations (think, vacuum cleaner, mop, duster, etc.)
          Early in our marriage, my husband told me, "A bad tool is worse than no tool."  You know what, he's right!  I have invested in higher quality "gadgets" (and fewer of them), and a very few "specialty" items that fit a unique purpose.  Rarely have I regretted my decision.

          How do I use this to love others?  Well, mainly by not nitpicking the cost of the right tool for my husband.  He knows what he needs, and he's not prone to waste money.  It just isn't in him.  So, I don't balk when the wrench he needs costs two or three times as much for a quality one, or that very specialized tool he needs just for this application that (in his words), "I may only use it once a decade, but when I need it, I will NEED it."

Clarification on the Last Post!

It occurred to me that the last post might sound as though I think I have it "all together."  I don't.  I know I don't.  Soooooo, in the spirit of honesty, let me share something we DON'T do well, the girls and I -- we don't get out of the house well.

Y'all, getting out the door should be a major sporting event the way my girls and I do it.  And it's not a short one, like the 100 meter.  It's more like a marathon, or maybe the Iron Man Tri-athalon.  Seriously.  There's, at minimum, getting shoes on and toilet time.  We have a shoe shelf at the door to the garage.  Generally, each girl has at least one pair of shoes on that shelf.  Sometimes, we have to add teeth and hair brushing, sunscreen application, random book/instrument/toy/purse/backpack finding and procuring.  It really shouldn't take that long.

So, why the trouble?  Because it's out of routine.  We don't ROUTINELY leave the house.  As in, many days, we stay home.  And that's an intentional decision.  But, because our routine is to stay home, leaving home lacks routine.  And it's a mess.  Usually, I am worn out before we make it out the door!

So, there it is.  Honesty.  We can't seem to get out the door in a decent amount of time, or without much "weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth."

Things I Love: Homeschooling

          Day 13 -- I love homeschooling.  And the time when I love it most is summer time.  I know this sounds odd, because, well, school's out!  Even for us.  We don't do year-round school, so we are off.

          I love it because I am with my kids all the time.  Yes, I do get worn out.  Yes, I do have days where I want to be alone.  But here's the thing -- I like who my girls are.  I like who they are becoming.  No, they aren't perfect, they aren't always on their best behavior.  They break things, they disobey, they fight, they have bad attitudes.  They also apologize, cry with me and each other, clean, obey with good attitudes, encourage each other and me, and generally work together.  I get to see generosity, forgiveness, grace, and trust building day by day, moment by moment.  I get to watch them learn.  I am generally the one the Doctor comes running to when she  has read something new that fascinates her.  I am the one Fidget asks to help almost daily.  I am the one the who sees the Cowgirl giving of her money and time and help so generously.  I have the honor of seeing them at their best, as well as their worst.

          Why do I love it most in summer?  It's when all the work pays off!  Because they are a part of my daily routines, summer is a time of relaxation -- for them AND for me.  Without the pressure of "schooling," we can have fun!  We have already done two projects that really wouldn't have met my educational standards for the school year.  We can go to the movies (and eat popcorn for lunch!), or just laze around the house for the day in our PJs and do our nails.  We can get the basics out of the way without a bunch of drama (most days!) because they are used to them.  I don't have to spend the summer teaching (or re-teaching) them how to make a bed or clean their room or wipe down a bathroom or unload the dishwasher or, or, or.  They know that certain things need to happen before we go anywhere, so they don't fight me on that, no matter how much they are looking forward to something.  They know how to amuse themselves if left "to their own devices" so I can get something done.

          Overall, I love homeschooling.  Is it for everyone?  No.  There are plenty of excellent, loving, intentional parents who have made a deliberate decision to put their children in school -- both public and private.  Parents who love their children no less than I love mine.  Parents who are at least as good at this parenting thing as the Engineer and I are (many who are better).  I reject the idea that how you school your children is an indicator of how "good" a parent you are.  For us, it's a great fit.

 

          OK, for loving others.  Today, I grocery shop.  Ugh.  How I loathe grocery shopping.  But, the family must eat, and I must behave like a grown-up.  So it's off to the stores I go.

Things I Love: Two Websites that Have Made an Enormous Difference in my Life

        Yesterday, I mentioned FLYLady.  I love her.  I don't follow her methodically, because her brain works differently than mine.  However, she was the first one who gave me hope for housekeeping.
        I don't remember how I stumbled upon her.  I also don't really know why I continued reading after I realized her starting place was clutter.  Because I am the "throw it away" queen around here.  I despise clutter.  My motto could easily be "when in doubt, throw it out."
        For whatever reason, I kept reading.  And I am so glad I did.  She resonated with me.  I remember crying the first time I read her.
        I, too, am a frustrated perfectionist.  All-or-nothing.  And when I stumbled upon her, I bawled like a baby.  Because she understood.  And I (of course), revamped my schedule around her methods.  Or tried to.  I still did not understand how to turn housework into projects, or that I needed to.  So I failed miserably.  But there were several key things I took from her for which I am grateful beyond words.  Mainly, timers, and habit forming.  If you're unfamiliar with this lady, go to her site.  It's so worth the time you'll spend there.
        The other website that gave me hope (and has caused more than one tearful evening for me) is A Slob Comes Clean.  Nony is AMAZING.  She taught me that laundry can be done in one day, instead of strung out over the whole week.  That revelation clicked something in my brain.  That something lead me to the thought that each day could be a "project."  As I write this, the old song "This is the day we (wash the clothes, bake the bread, etc.)" comes to mind.  (If you're unfamiliar with her, please check her out!  She's incredible.)
        Nony also helped me see the power of "non-negotiables" and writing them down.  I now have them framed in my cabinet.  When I add a new one, I print out a new sheet and replace the old with the new.
        Without these two women, I am pretty sure that I would still be spinning my wheels with housekeeping.  I was failing miserably.  You have NO idea how bad it was.  But these two, with their honesty, humor, and humility, helped me see what could be done.  They encouraged me, and though I'll probably never meet either of them, I'll always be thankful to them for their insight and honesty.

         Today we're planning to go visit friends.  No necessary "reason," just because.  And that's really the best reason, isn't it?
           Plans changed.  We're going to visit different friends, for the most wonderful reason of all!  But that's not my story to share...

Let me Introduce my Family

It occurred to me that I probably should document who all lives in this house.  That way, if someone other than me (or a very few close friends) ever stumbles upon this blog, there won't be confusion...

First up, my husband.  I'll call him The Engineer, as that is who he is.  It's not "just" what he does.  It's who he is.  How he thinks.  How great is it that he picked his ideal career right from the get-go?!  Definitely a blessing.

Then there's me.  I plan to refer to myself as me, I, myself, as I am not royalty. ;)  I'm a full-time homemaker and homeschooling mom.  The Engineer and I have three girls.

The oldest girl wants to "do something medical with people."  So I'll call her the Doctor.  (Maybe "doc" for short sometimes.)  She's currently 8, and has known this was her career path since before her 2nd birthday.

The middle girl currently wants to be a rancher.  She wants to raise cattle, chickens, goats, and horses.  So, I call her the Cowgirl.  At least for now.  It wouldn't surprise me if this ends up being her career, as it suits her well.  She'll be 7 soon.

The youngest I'll call Fidget.  It's what I call her in real life, anyway.  She has no idea what she wants to do, which is perfectly fine for an almost-4-year-old.  If she still hasn't decided when she's almost 24, we'll be having a different discussion.  The reason for her name is simple -- when in utero, she was the "busiest" of the three girls.  She moved all the time!  She's still this way.  Constant motion.

Finally, there's the animals.  We have an English mastiff (Stonewall), several goldfish (the Fish) in a fluctuating number, and 8 chickens (the Chickens).  The chickens are still getting their feathers.  They spend the days outside in their fence, but we bring them in the house at night.  (In a dog kennel in the laundry room.)  Stonewall is an indoor dog, and is as lazy as they come.  Unless a "stranger" comes to the door.  Then, he's wide awake and on high alert.

Things I Love: Mondays

          I didn't always love Mondays.  Not that long ago, Mondays were a source of frustration, the beginning of a week of frustrating days.           Before I knew that my mind worked best with projects, I had set my days up all wrong.  My week was structured in the worst possible way for my brain.  I had, with the best of intentions, set myself up for failure.  Week after week.  And it all started with Monday.
          My plan before had been to do a load of laundry each day, and clean one room per day.  That plan might work beautifully for many people.  But not for me.  It made laundry and housework a never-ending drudgery.  I FELT it all the time.  On top of that, I had to dig out of the weekend on Mondays.  I don't do much housework on the weekends.  This is an intentional decision on my part.  I want the weekends to be free for us to do stuff as a family, whether that's here or out and about.  Come Monday, though, I was resentful of the fact that nothing got done all weekend!  (I know, it's insanity!)
          Then we moved.  And something clicked.  Mondays, I set aside for "Reclaiming the house."  Meaning, all we do is straighten the house, put the weekend "back in the box," the way you would a card game once it was over.  It sets us up for success for the rest of the week.  It means that those "room rescues" that FLYLady is so fond of actually maintain the order.  (If you've stumbled on this blog, and are not familiar with FLYLady, go check her out.)
          And so I love Mondays.  I see results over the whole house, and I'm not stressed about "cleaning" yet, as that happens (most) Wednesdays.  I'm still learning, still figuring things out.  But I cannot tell you how much better life is now that I've reworked the schedule to make each day a project.  I can now say that I love Mondays.

          As for loving people today, I'm working on a gift for someone.  I love making gifts for people dear to my heart.  I especially love making practical gifts.  So, this gift is imminently practical, for a very dear friend.  It will take a few days to finish, but I'm only going to write about it today.  Unless I write about it again when I finally give them to my friend. ;)