Tonight, I'm...

...tired.  Bone weary.  Exhausted to the core.

I'm tired of being perpetually behind in the laundry.
I'm tired of the laundry chute being filled to overflowing.
I'm tired of boys wetting beds.
I'm tired of washing mattress pads.
I'm tired of having to scramble to make sure everybody has clean underwear and socks for the next day.
I'm tired of clean laundry sitting unfolded in baskets for days.

That's what just a few days away from my regular laundry routine will do to me.

I'm tired of dirty dishes.

I'm tired of the stack of paperwork on the counter by the telephone.

I'm tired of dust on the mantle.

I'm tired of crumbs on the kitchen floor.

I'm tired of these last 10 pounds I've been trying to lose...but keep finding again.

I'm tired of unfinished projects.

I'm tired of procrastination and the mental toll it takes on me.

I'm tired of stress and the way it strips me of patience and gentleness and self-control and the other fruits of the Spirit.  (I should say, "the way I let it strip me of" those attributes, because I know I am responsible for how I react to stress.)

Even more, I'm tired of pain and suffering.  Not that I myself am experiencing so much of it these days, but I watch as those I love deal with it, and it hurts my heart.  Especially when they have to deal with it in silence.

I don't just feel the pain of people I know and am close to.  I think of those in Japan whose lives were forever altered by the horrific events there, and I mourn.  I think of a family I knew only superficially that was torn apart by divorce, and I grieve.

Tonight, I feel a kinship with Habakkuk as he lamented,

How long, O Lord, must I call for help?
But you do not listen!
"Violence is everywhere!" I cry,
but you do not come to save.
Must I forever see these evil deeds?
Why must I watch all this misery?
Wherever I look,
I see destruction and violence.
I am surrounded by people
who love to argue and fight.
The law has become paralyzed,
and there is no justice in the courts.
The wicked far outnumber the righteous,
so that justice has become perverted.

Later, Habakkuk receives this reply, and I cling to this in hope,

For as the waters fill the sea,
the earth will be filled with an awareness
of the glory of the Lord.

Yes, Lord!  May it be so!

The Sandpaper Is Getting Smoother

Once upon a time, there were two boys.

Brothers.

And there was a mother, who listened to them fight and argue and push each other's buttons and compete over every little, tiny, minuscule, unimportant thing.  And she thought, "What am I doing wrong?"

So she talked to her sons about loving each other, and she sent them to separate rooms, and she put them in the same room so they could talk to each other and work things out, and she read Siblings Without Rivalry, and she talked to every mom she could about how other families handle sibling conflicts, and she asked advice from the boys' daddy, and she prayed for wisdom from their other Daddy.  

And the boys grew, and gradually they learned how to cooperate more than compete, and peace slowly began to descend upon the household.

And the mother breathed a sigh of relief and prayed a hundred thank-yous.

The names of the boys:  Josiah and David.

********

Once upon a time, there were two boys.

Brothers.

And there was a mother, who listened to them fight and argue and push each other's buttons and compete over every little, tiny, minuscule, unimportant thing.  And she thought, "What am I doing wrong?"

But then she thought, "We've been through this before.  These boys will grow up.  They will learn how to get along.  I'll keep trying to train their hearts, and I'll keep asking advice, and I'll keep praying for wisdom.  And the lessons they're learning now will help them someday as they deal with sometimes-difficult friends, roommates, coworkers, wives, etc.  We'll get through this."

But sometimes she wondered, "Will we?"  And sometimes she prayed, "How long, O Lord?"  And sometimes she called them The Sandpaper Boys.  And sometimes she wished that, with a snap of her fingers, she could make them grow up right then and there and MAKE THEM STOP FIGHTING.

But little by little, she saw her sons mature, and she watched them respond to each other with more humility and gentleness, and she caught them doing things like snuggling on the couch together, the older reading a story to the younger.  

And the mother breathed a sigh of relief and prayed a hundred thank-yous.

The names of the boys:  David and Tobin.

********

Added on 3/11/11:  If you read this post yesterday, you might remember what I wrote here about prayer being needed for a certain situation.  For reasons I don't yet fully understand, I've been asked to remove that information, and I'm also going to hide the comments related to that.  If you have further questions, you may email me privately.  And if you've been praying, please continue.  Thank you, friends!  

The Women of Genesis, Part One

At the beginning of this year, I contemplated setting a goal of reading the entire Bible in 2011.  And then I decided not to.

What??  Why would I not pursue such a lofty goal?  Very simply, it's because I wanted time to linger over the Word, to let it speak to me, and then to pause to meditate on it.  When evening comes and the boys are in bed and I pull out my Bible, if something in the very first chapter I read grabs my attention and commands me to sit up and take notice and change my life, I don't want to feel the pressure to set that golden nugget aside so that I can race on and finish my four-or-so chapters a day.  Don't get me wrong:  I think there are definitely times when it's extremely valuable to read the entire Bible in a short amount of time.  It's particularly helpful, if one has never done it, to read the whole thing in order to gain an overview of the big picture of God's plan, from Genesis to Revelation.  I highly commend those who set such a goal--and I commend even more highly those who actually accomplish it.  ;-)

However, for right now, I want to linger as I read, to absorb the truth therein, and to be changed by the best love letter ever written.  That is my goal.

Back in November, I started reading The Narrated Bible in Chronological Order, not so much for the narration but for the chronology.  I have enjoyed it tremendously.  As anyone who has sought the Lord over a period of years knows, there are dry times: times when it feels like a burden to pick up a Bible and read, times when it seems as if prayers can't get through the roof to reach God's ear.  I've had those times, but I've also had times of refreshing:  times when the Word seems alive and I'm able to connect with it and with the people described in the pages so vividly, times when prayer flows freely and joyfully and I'm certain of God's ear being tuned to my heart.  For whatever reason, I'm in a stage of freshness right now; and the Bible has been a delight to me during the past few months.

I chose to start in Genesis, a logical starting point; and I planned to read straight through the Bible in chronological order, no matter how long it took me.  I'm still in Genesis. :)  But I've taken a few detours though, jumping ahead to other books that caught my attention for one reason or another.  The first one I read was 2 Timothy, mostly because of a sermon I heard back in December in which the preacher, Tony Williams, read from 2 Timothy 4:1-8 and said, "See yourself as sitting in the departure lounge."  That intrigued me, and I paused in my Genesis reading to devour 2 Timothy.

The next diversion came in the form of a verse Marie quoted at the end of this post.  It led me to Malachi, and I sojourned for a time in that book of strong convictions and beautiful hope.  Then back to Genesis.

Now that I'm reading The Book of God by Walter Wangerin, I'm dashing through the Old Testament in his novel form which is really enjoyable (but of course, not like reading the Bible itself); but as I read his words, I find myself needing to drop everything and grab the Bible to see what it really says.  :)  So I'm pulled away from Genesis to hop merrily through other books:  2 Samuel, Amos, Isaiah, etc.  I have many things I could write about the things I've been learning--especially about King David and his bloody reign--and maybe I will someday.  But what I really wanted to write about today is The Women of Genesis.

Ah, these women!  The mothers of mankind, they define for us what it means to be female.  Although there are as many ideas about womanhood as there are women alive today, a few characteristics are common to (almost) everyone's definitions:  companionship, beauty, allure, softness, nurturing.  Are these not at the heart of a woman?

Take beauty, for instance.  How do we know that we're supposed to be beautiful?  In the animal kingdom, it's the male who's the attractive one.  The male cardinal has the bright red feathers, the male lion grows a mane to be proud of, the male mallard sports flashy, shiny feathers.  So why are humans different?  Why is it that little girls, from a very young age, love to make themselves look pretty?  My boys don't care a fig if their hair is standing up crazily or their clothes don't match; they'll dash out of the house without a second thought of their appearance.  I've heard this may change during the teen years.  ;-)  But regardless, anyone can observe that there are innate differences between boys and girls, between men and women; and they are differences that go all the way back to the book of Genesis.

It occurs to me, as I read through Genesis here in the winter of 2011, that the men found in that book are most often described by their character or their occupation.  For example...
~ Genesis 4 - Now Abel kept flocks, and Cain worked the soil.
~ Genesis 4 - ...Jabal; he was the father of those who live in tents and raise livestock...Jubal; he was the father of all who play the harp and flute.
~ Genesis 6 - Noah was a righteous man, blameless among the people of his time.
~ Genesis 10 - ...Nimrod, who grew to be a mighty warrior on the earth.
~ Genesis 17 - Your name will be Abraham, for I have made you a father of many nations.
Unless I'm mistaken, we're not given a physical description for any of those men...and not for many of the other men mentioned in the first book of the Bible either.  Three exceptions come immediately to my mind, and there may be more, but the ones I can think of now are Esau being described as red and hairy, Jacob being called smooth-skinned, and Joseph being noticed by Potiphar's wife because he was well-built and handsome.

But these women, the matriarchs of Israel!  It's a different story with them, as physical beauty comes to the forefront of the story.
~ Genesis 12 - Abram says to Sarai, "I know what a beautiful woman you are," and, in fact, she's so beautiful that Abram fears for his life, thinking that he might be assassinated so an Egyptian can marry his wife...indeed, "the Egyptians saw that she was a very beautiful woman.  And when Pharoah's officials saw her, they praised her to Pharaoh, and she was taken into his palace."
~ Genesis 20 - Amazingly, this happens again!  This time it's Abimelech, king of Gerar, who wants to marry her.  But do you know how old she was at this time?  90 years old.  She must have been some kind of beautiful to have attracted that kind of attention and inspired that kind of desire when she was 90!!
~ Genesis 24 - Rebekah is described as "very beautiful" (and importantly, her purity is described in two ways, so as to emphasize her absolute righteousness in that area).
~ Genesis 29 - Perhaps the most striking passage as related to physical appearance is found here, "Now Laban had two daughters; the name of the older was Leah, and the name of the younger was Rachel. Leah had weak eyes, but Rachel was lovely in form, and beautiful.  Jacob was in love with Rachel...So Jacob served seven years to get Rachel, but they seemed like only a few days to him because of his love for her."
*Sigh!*  Oh, to be loved like that!

I can't write about this and not think of the book Captivating by John and Stasi Eldredge.  Confession time:  I haven't read the whole thing.  I started it and nearly got a concussion from nodding my head so violently in agreement with what they wrote, so I decided to lay it aside before I did further damage to my brain.  ;-)  One of these days I'll return to it...and maybe even finish the whole thing!  :)

When I sat down to write this peaceful, rainy afternoon, while Shav is in his crib and Jeff has the three older boys in town, I wasn't intending to go this direction with my thoughts; in fact, I had something else entirely in mind that I've learned from The Women of Genesis.  However, thoughts are unpredictable and sometimes they amble off in an unexpected direction--at least, mine do--and sometimes my fingers have to scramble to keep up with them.  Maybe in another post, my thoughts will amble back in the direction I was intending to go!

For now, it's time to turn my attention to making supper before my hungry tribe gathers.  I think a pot of Mother's Potato Soup will do nicely.  :)

Wordless Wednesday {Boy in Morning Light}

"Get the Camera!"

Josiah dashed into the house a few minutes ago, cheeks rosy from the coolness of the almost-spring air and from his vigorous exercise on the trampoline.  "Quick," he shouted, "get the camera!" 

"OK," I said, straightening up from where I had been bending over the kitchen sink doing one of my least-favorite jobs, cleaning eggs from our chickens; and taking the purple rubber gloves off my hands, I followed Josiah to the front door, stopping on the way to grab my camera.  "What is it?  What do you want me to take a picture of?"

"It's the first flower of the year!" he yelled jubilantly.  And so it was, nestled at the foot of an old English walnut tree, cheery little drops of sunshine captured in the petals of a few flowers.

Who knew that simple crocuses could put such joy in the heart of a young boy?  :)

Every Kangaroo Needs a Place to Jump

And when that "kangaroo" happens to be a five-year-old boy with energy to spare, only one thing will do:

a trampoline!

We wanted to get one for David for his birthday (still over a month away, but we were trying to plan ahead!), but looking at the price of new trampolines was shocking (to me...Jeff already knew how expensive they are) and discouraging.

However, Jeff, ever the wise and frugal shopper, found a used one for sale nearby and went ahead and bought it, rather than officially waiting for David's birthday, hauled it home in pieces in our Big White Van, then assembled it in the waning light of a cloudy evening last Saturday.

We'll get a new net to go around it and a new cover for the springs to make it safer,

but meanwhile the big boys are already enjoying it.

As soon as Jeff gave David the go-ahead to get on it, David became a blur:  a big ball of bubbly, bouncing, boisterous, bright-eyed, beautiful, beloved boy.  What a delight to give good gifts to our children!

Shav, meanwhile, stood just inside the door, peering out at all the excitement and activity...and dreaming, I suppose, of the day when he'll be on the trampoline with the big boys kangaroos!!  ;-)

A {Little} Man and His Money

A few days ago, Josiah came to me and said, in essence, "Mom, I think you and Dad are giving me too much money for my allowance.  Maybe we could change things so that you only pay me if I don't make a certain amount of money when I help out at the barbershop.  I just have too much money, and I don't know what to do with it all!"

Pick me up off the floor.

This boy is amazing.  Very money-minded, he does mental financial computations as easily as breathing, and the idea of a budget is as natural to him as it is to Alan Greenspan.  I can easily see him following in the footsteps of my brother David and becoming an accountant.  (Although, if Josiah decides to do something else, by all means he can do so!)

But too much money??

Every week, we give each of our sons (well, not Shav; he's too young) a dime for each year of their life, so Tobin gets 30 cents, David gets 50, and Josiah gets 80.  In addition, whoever's turn it is to feed the animals gets $1.00, so every other week, Josiah gets it, and the following week, it's David.  With the money we give them, we expect them to put some in each of the three sections of the "piggy bank" they have:  some to save in the bank, some to spend at the store, and some to give to the church.  They all enjoy the thrill of dropping those coins into the slots, and they've never fussed about having to put some into the bank category or the church category.  It's been a joy.

Besides those three categories, Josiah also saves some of his money specifically for his plane ticket for when we fly to California to visit family and friends there (he took the initiative, by the way to do this; we would never require him to raise his own money for his plane ticket!), another portion of his money is set aside to buy a Kindle (and he can tell you exactly how long it will take him to buy it, based on how much he can save for it each week), and I believe a portion is set aside for Wycliffe Bible Translators.  I can't keep up with all his categories, so I'm not sure if there is anything else or not.  I tell ya, I would need a spreadsheet to keep track of all his financial dealings, but that boy keeps it all straight in his head.  And when it's time for me to give him his allowance, he tells me exactly in what form he wants it, based on how he needs to divide it between all his categories.  "I'll take five quarters, three dimes, four nickels, and five pennies please," or something like that...like I said, I can't keep it straight.  :)

When Josiah first mentioned his idea of reducing his allowance, I sort of shrugged it off with the standard reply, "We can talk about it later when Dad is here."  I didn't think he was serious.  But then, when he brought it up again a day or two later, I decided to pry a little bit to see where this was coming from; and it was at that point that I realized that he just didn't know what to do with all his money.  What a problem!  ;-)

Hmmm...how to advise him?  It occurred to me that I could suggest that he make a special gift to some worthy organization, like he had done to Wycliffe in the past, so I mentioned a few, including Heifer International.  He liked the sound of that one, so we looked online at the options for giving, and he chose a flock of ducks and--without a moment of hesitation--handed over his money.  We talked about how his ducks might go to a family like the one we read about in The Story about Ping, and it was fun to make that connection and imagine what kind of life his ducks might live.  I'll probably always think of his sweet gift when I read that book in the future.

This wasn't the first time Josiah demonstrated a level of generosity that exceeded my expectations.  I have a feeling it won't be the last either.

Ya know, if I had a dollar for every time I've wondered ("worried" might be a more accurate word) whether Josiah--and my other sons--were going to turn out right, I'd have enough money to buy flocks and flocks and FLOCKS of ducks.  But every once in a while, an incident comes along that makes me lift my hands in gratitude to heaven and whisper, "Yeah, I think he's turning out right."

I'm whispering it now.

Yeah, I think he's turning out right.

* I started writing this post last night and was almost done with it when I was interrupted by the subject of the post throwing up all over my bedroom floor!  He had been in bed a few hours before he got up, complaining of not feeling well.  I made a pallet on the floor of my room for him, so he would be closer to us and closer to the bathroom; climbing down from the top of a bunk bed during an urgent dash to the bathroom is not exactly recommended.  He curled up in the sleeping bag I had gotten out for him; but before long, he announced that he was going to throw up...and then he did, missing completely the trash can I had put beside him.  The endearing thing about all of it however is that while he was still throwing up, he was apologizing!  "I'm sorry!" he said...then threw up some more...then again, "I'm so sorry!"  Dear child!  I wasn't the least bit upset with him; I just felt so bad that he was feeling so bad.  If I could have taken his misery, I would have in a flash.  Fortunately, that was his only episode of vomiting; but he's been weak today.  While he slept on the couch this afternoon, I couldn't resist taking a picture of him.

Dear, dear boy.  I am so fond of him!