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Five Minute Friday: Change

Posted in Five Minute Friday, Uncategorized | 3 comments

I used to have a PhD.

I even wrote a poem about it but lucky for you, I can’t find it.

Three kids in three years meant a mountain of diapers and my poor husband, he came home one day after one of those days and found me huddled up with this poem. The one about poop.

I told him I had an official Poop Handler’s Degree.

When you’ve cleaned it off of the baby’s clothes, your clothes, the floor, the chair, the toddler…whatever, and then repeated the whole cycle and taken care of the puppy’s, too, you get crowned with this distinction.

You probably have a PhD, dear reader. Congratulations.

So I changed a zillion diapers and the sheets, too. We changed houses, careers, curriculums, parenting tactics. We survived toddlerhood and I think we did pretty well.

And “they” used to always tell me, the way well-meaning people do, that it only gets harder. That babies change into big kids and into little adults and life won’t slow down for you.

They were right.

Our schedules have changed. It’s no longer about meal time and snack time and nap time and school time. Bed time is later and now it’s more about who-needs-to-be-where-and-when. I am not in control of every minute of their day anymore.

I used to have a PhD, but now I drive a taxi.

It used to be I was trying to get them to stay asleep, but now, just this morning, I’m waking my man-child up before dawn to go to work with dad. Not just-for-fun, but he will actually work and I can still see him waddling around in his diaper.

Two men kissed me good-bye this morning, and I couldn’t be happier.

{Join us at Lisa-Jo’s for five minutes of writing joy. Today’s prompt is CHANGE, and I’m sure you can come up with some good stuff!}

When You’re Afraid of the Questions

Posted in Perspective | 1 comment

He’s been a Christian for two days now and he wants to know why he doesn’t see miracles yet.

The honesty of a child and the questions he’s unafraid to ask, they all produce weak answers from me and bring up the questions of my own.

“Every time you venture out in your life of faith, you will find something in your circumstances that, from a commonsense standpoint, will flatly contradict your faith. But common sense is not faith, and faith is not common sense.” ~ Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest

God is not afraid of our questions, but me? I want to explain to this child how open eyes will see miracles everyday and how the dirt-becoming-man was enough, but then the King-became-man and turned every miracle upside down.

I want to explain because maybe I’m afraid that if he doesn’t get the right answers, his faith will cease?

Wasn’t rising from the dead enough miracle for all our lifetimes? But he didn’t see that one.

I want to put miracles into words that a 7 year old can understand, but where are the words for me, the ones that will make it all clear and common sense?

Jesus said to her, ’Did I not say to you that if you would believe you would see the glory of God?’ —John 11:40

Martha’s common sense worried about the smell and the time that had passed and why wasn’t Jesus here earlier. She would’ve had very practical answers for my 7 year old.

But then she saw the glory of God.

I remember faith-growing moments.

I remember praying out loud that we would see a bear on our drive through the backroads, and answering their child-questions with faith. Moments after my prayer the kids were asking if I thought we were really going to see one.

Yes, I said. And inside I feared that I had backed God in a corner.

I remember how God answered my child-questions with not one, but three bears. A mama and 2 cubs, playing right there in the road for us to see.

And the kids in the backseat who couldn’t see well? How about if those cubs just climb the tree right next to the truck? The cubs all playful and my kids all bug-eyed, because we’ve never seen bears here in these woods before, but mama prayed.

The mountains didn’t move and the storms of life didn’t cease, but God heard a feeble prayer and answered three-fold, just because He loves me.

That’s what I saw. Nothing earth shattering, no one healed miraculously, but just this one thing that will never leave me: God loves us and wants to show us His glory.

So when you think you need the right answers and miracles for your faith? Look for His glory, because the sun came up this morning and it shines on this whole world full of Him, glory all around and even in you.

Don’t be afraid of the questions.

{More pictures from Yellowstone above, but the bears? They were right here in Oregon.}

Why I’ll be Using More Paper

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Convenience is great.

Accessibility is great.

And I’m all about making things simple and easy.

But I’m also about balance, and one thing I’ve noticed about myself lately is that my face is often in a screen. Or maybe, the screen is in my face.

I’m also highly distracted, like ADHD without the H.

All that makes it hard to be a good mom, wife, friend, homemaker…all that makes it hard for me to just stop, put the brakes on, and engage with life. That thing that happens around me all day.

My lists are on screen. My books, schedules, dreams and ideas float in bits and bytes, and my eyes are burning. I appreciate my Kindle for the convenience and cost-saving, but I miss paper.

The thing is, I change my mind so often about how and where I want to organize those pieces of life that need documented. I use notebooks, sketch books, journals, sticky notes, evernote, onenote, notes on my phone…

I’ve tried to be all computerized and organized in digital fashion, because I think that’s great. But the screen sucks my brain and my attention (which is limited).

It’s easier to walk away from paper, but this screen cries out to me for just one more…

I have one life to live and one shot at making these memories, the ones my kids will live with. I don’t want to be the mom at the pool that misses the cannonball because of The Screen. There are baby steps on this road to recovery, and the first one is logging off.

So I’ll be using more paper, and hallelujah, I’ve found a wonderful notebook that makes me giddy. (I’m simple like that).

The Arc customizable notebook from Staples. I’m not an affiliate, won’t get any money if you click on the link, but if you feel so happy and excited after seeing this thing and you’d like to thank me, we can make arrangements. *smile*

It’s just a little thing, but isn’t that what our lives are made up of? To be faithful in the smallest of things, that’s the calling of those called mom and it’s the groundwork for bigger faith. Because nobody who takes care of the little things is ever overlooked in the kingdom of heaven.

He who is faithful in what is least is faithful also in much; and he who is unjust in what is least is unjust also in much. – {Luk 16:10 NKJV}

{Counting gifts and remembering His goodness with community here.}

355. Again, great fellowship with friends…the Beautiful Feet people.

356. A lost dog and the way Jesus answers prayers

357. leftovers on busy days

358. kids old enough and willing to help a very pregnant friend

359. the ebb and flow of noise and quiet in the house

360. THE GREATEST JOY! Our youngest, asking to receive Christ right in the kitchen. Unprompted and out of the blue. Born again, adopted again, and eternally His!

Oh, Happy Day. (click and sing along with us?)

{Why the random picture at the top of the post, you ask? It’s just a good memory from Yellowstone last year, a picture my daughter took. So it kinda fits, in a peacefully-engaged sort of way.}

Five Minute Friday: Join

Posted in Five Minute Friday | 9 comments

They squabble and I squirm because I just don’t have the words. What do you say to siblings bent on destruction?

Hearts need to change and mine is first in line.

My words are not what they want to hear and the feeling is mutual, but we just can’t stop. We struggle to make home together and I tell her, when I find her all huddled up, that people are just difficult. That’s all the wisdom I can muster.

And we are all people.

After the fuming and the glorious repentance (the angels sang, they did), I lament. Why does family life rip and tear sometimes?

Why can’t we all just love each other and skip through the fields stringing daisy chains and singing songs?

Oh, to live that quiet life.

I join with Jacob and Esau’s mom. With the mother of those “sons of thunder”, too. And with millions, billions, of moms throughout time and geography. Because everyone, everywhere, at every time and point in history, has had to make their home with people.

And I love my peeps, so we sleep without the anger and tomorrow we start over. Thank You, Jesus.

{Five Minute Friday, where we write for fun and nobody corrects our grammar. Click the link below to join the fun!}

Why You Need a Passport

Posted in Perspective | 4 comments

It’s been a year and a half since I’ve traveled out of the country, which makes it seem odd to have a passport in my purse.

But my life is made up of odd things, and I found it down with the gum wrappers and random paper clips in the bottom of my purse.

Republic of Korea, Republic of India, Department of Homeland Security. All the stamps in my little scrapbook make me smile and remember.

One of the kids asked why I had it with me.

After more than an hour in the waiting room of the doctor’s office with four kids, groceries still left to buy, and a 4:30 practice to taxi to, this just seemed like a totally appropriate response:

“You never know when I might want to leave the country.”

The kids laughed and that’s always the best medicine, but it really is true.

You never know, so you might as well be prepared.

Which is what we talked about Sunday at church, about being prepared and numbering our days and fully resting in His timing, without falling asleep.

A lot of people sleep in the waiting room.

So teach us to number our days, That we may gain a heart of wisdom. ~ Psa 90:12 NKJV

I decided that I might just keep that passport handy-in-the-purse, for a reminder because I so desperately need to be reminded. Because I race through life like everything is an emergency sometimes, and I forget that life is made up of all these moments that we have to choose, and we keep on choosing as long as we have days left, whether we let them be emergency-moments or slowing-down-to-live moments. Slowing down to remember.

They are all numbered, the days you and I have. He alone knows the multitude of them and when He comes for me…oh, let me be ready.

Let me live in that waiting room, listening for my name to be called, cleaning out the junk I carry around so as to find the things that really matter and the things that make me ready. I can chat with the others who are waiting, encourage the passport-carriers and elbow awake the sleepers. You could be called, anytime.

And yes, the wait might seem long.

Strangely, in a teacher-she-took-cuts kinda way, some who came last are called in first. Maybe they had an appointment or maybe their issues were more urgent, but I’ll just wait patiently for my turn. I’ll just help my kids understand the waiting as best I can.

This isn’t the vain waiting of Waiting for Godot, though our ignorance and impatience are similar. We know Who’s coming, we wait with Him and for Him, and that’s amazing mystery and comfort.

This waiting room is joy, right here, and so much more joy awaiting. And we never worry about not having the passport, because we’re sealed-up with His Spirit right in us, and He knows our homeland.

Homeland Security, indeed. Doesn’t that make you smile?