I'm a Little Busy Right Now

In a week and a half, Josiah will perform in a concert with the other Suzuki students in this area; and I am delighted to have the honor of accompanying the group--delighted not only because my son and I will be playing in the same concert, but also because accompanying is really my first love musically.  If life had gone in a different direction for me and if I had not married and had children and if I had pursued higher education, I would have gotten a master's degree in accompanying--or tried to, anyway--or at least, wanted to.  :)

The thing about accompanying now, however, is this:  my fingers are rusty!  Many years have passed since I was at the peak of my musical career, spending hours every day in a practice room, getting to know intimately every phrase in a Bach partita and every accidental in a Chopin etude.  Fortunately, most of the pieces in the upcoming concert are easy and pose no problem for me.  However, there are a few that are challenging, and they leave me wishing that my fingers would do a better job of obeying what my mind tells them to do!

The good thing about all of this--one of the good things, I should say--is that it's forcing me to spend time playing the piano again.  Without a performance looming over my head, I don't make the time to sit down and practice...and then eventually, I wake up and think, "It's been forever since I've played the piano.  I really miss it!"  During the next week and a half, I surely won't have that problem; I have a feeling nearly all of my free time will be spent perched on my piano bench.  Joy!

Most of the pieces in the concert are very familiar to me, but there are a few newcomers in the bunch.  "Gavotte" by Rameau is one of them; and to make sure I was playing it correctly (with appropriate tempo, dynamics, and other expression), I found it on YouTube and listened to it.  (By the way, how did we ever get along without YouTube?!  It's incredible to think that we have SO MUCH knowledge at our fingertips.  Mind-boggling, really.)  I sort of fell in love with this piece, especially the first phrase (which begins around the :22 mark in this video).

Ah, music, how I love thee!

If anyone needs me from now until next Sunday, you just might find me at my piano.  ;-)

When Brothers Are Best Friends

I read so many things.

We all do, I suppose.  Aren't we bombarded with words as we go through our days, from the time we sleepily read the directions on the instant coffee tin so we can get a first-thing-in-the-morning caffeine boost, to the time we do our last-time-for-tonight check of email and Facebook before we go to bed?

Words surround us.  They teach and instruct us, encourage and inspire us, entertain and enlighten us, but often, they float right over our heads, never to be remembered.

Has this ever happened to you?  You read a magazine article, or an excerpt from a book, or even a quote from a page-a-day inspirational calendar; and what you read grabs your attention so you pause for a moment to think about what you just read; but then you turn the page of your book, put your magazine in the recycling pile, or toss the scrap of paper into the trash.  Only later do you think, "I wish I could remember where I read that.  I'd really like to see it again!"

That almost happened to me when I first read this article.  I almost didn't save it, but I'm so glad I did.

A link to it was included in a weekly email newsletter that my state homeschool organization sends out; and when I saw the topic was sibling rivalry, it didn't take me long to decide to click on the link.  Any help with teaching my four young'uns to get along is always welcome!

I liked the article right away--sentences like "God made no mistake with the gender, the birth order, the number, and the spacing of your children" are welcome reminders of what I already know to be true but need to think about more often. Plus, there are lots more good points, like "Outside activities need to go in the same direction (as much as possible)."

But then I read this:  Do not allow your children to say "my best friend" outside of the family.  Rather, they can say "my very good friend."  Friends may come and go through the years, but siblings are for a lifetime.  And I thought, "Hmmm.  Do I agree with that strict use of the term best friend?"  

I'm still thinking about that.

I wouldn't want to be a legalist about it (so, for example, when David pipes up and announces that Grant is his best friend, I don't interrupt him to screech, "Oh no, he's not.  You can't call him that!"), but I DO appreciate the heart behind it and the point that the author made.  Siblings relationships are indeed for a lifetime, and there is wonderful potential in them for incredible friendships, if developed properly.

Because we homeschool, it's only natural that my boys' closest friendships are with each other.  Once in a while, I worry about that (although "worry" is much too strong of a word for the mild concern I occasionally feel about it).  Sometimes I console myself with the thought that Laura Ingalls Wilder's best friends were certainly her sisters, since she didn't have many other options for friends during most of her growing-up years!  :)  I also think about brothers James and John and the unique bond they had, as recorded in the Gospels.

And then I stop to watch my boys, and I see things like Tobin helping a hesitant Shav learn to walk up and down a hill in bare feet, with both ending up falling down on the grass.  I smile.  I contemplate.  I decide that, even though I'll still encourage them to build great friendships with people outside our family (and believe me, they do; I don't think it's just my biased viewpoint talking when I say that my boys are VERY friendly and get along well with others), I'll be grateful that the people they spend the most time with--and most want to spend time with--are the members of their own family.

My heart is reassured and at rest:  when brothers are best friends, 'tis the very best kind of best friendship!

Wordless Wednesday {On the Nest}

It Happens Every Night

At some point during the evening, I think to myself, "This is great!  I'll get the boys in bed, and then I'll have time to do all the dishes and do a good clean-up of the kitchen and get a load of laundry going and maybe even attack the endless pile of papers that accumulate on the counter by the telephone.  I'm going to get so much done!"

But honestly, by the time I get all the boys in bed--and then deal with all the I'm-thirsty, I-need-to-go-to-the-bathroom, I-forgot-to-tell-Daddy-goodnight excuses they use for getting out of bed--I'm beat.  Whipped.  Exhausted.  Completely worn out.  

I have this vivid impression of pouring myself out for my children, and I realize that there are very, VERY few things more important that I could be pouring myself out for.  So I don't mind it, but I wish that somehow, doing household tasks in the evening after the boys are in bed could replace that poured-out feeling with a filled-up feeling.  Somehow, though, I just don't get that from standing in the kitchen with my hands in a dishpan!

What normally happens is that I sit down, I rest my feet, I turn my brain to neutral, I read the mail, I go online...I do something that doesn't demand much physical or mental exertion.  Sometimes, after a little time goes by, I can summon up my strength and actually accomplish something productive, something household-related, during the hours between when the boys go to bed and when I hit the sack.  But too many times, I just can't seem to do it.

I really need to be more disciplined.  Sigh.

I really need to go to bed.  Right now.

Before I do, here's a picture I took in our yard this morning.

I like this picture.  I like dandelions.  I like them when they're yellow; I like them when they're white.  I especially like them when I can capture their little seeds flying off into the wind.

I talk type too much.  Enough about dandelions!

I like my bed.  I'm going now...  :)

My Thoughts on Osama's Death

Unless you've been living in a cave more remote and detached-from-media than a certain fortified residence in Abbottabad, you've heard the news:

Osama bin Laden is dead.

I hesitate to add my spilled words to the cacophony of voices expressing opinions about that momentous event.  With Twitter, Facebook (where I first heard the rumor late last night, which prompted me to stay up even later to listen online to President Obama's historic speech), blogs, newspapers, EVERY form of media, as well as people-to-people conversations (including the talk over my dinner table) being dominated by Osama's death, I wonder if there's any value in expressing my thoughts.  However, in years to come, I suppose I'll find it interesting to look back and read this...and maybe, my children will, too. So, I'll spill my thoughts...

My first reaction was a "Yes!  We got him!  Way to go, U.S. soldiers!"  The classic good guy v. bad guy story had come to an end, with the happy ending for which we'd all been waiting.  However, my jubilation was swiftly tempered by a growing sorrow.  Did it have to end this way?  Was there no chance for redemption?

Humanly speaking, even though I tend to look on the sunny side of life, I'm not even enough of an optimist to think that there was any way possible for Osama to change his whole outlook on life and on America, and become a peaceful man, showing regret for the lives he had ended and demonstrating the fruits of repentance.  My firm belief that "with God all things are possible" doesn't mean I'm not also a realist.

Consequently, I understand the justice of my government's actions; as "God's servants, agents of wrath," they did exactly what they needed to do.  In addition, I am extraordinarily proud of and grateful for the Navy SEALs and all of those involved in this enormous task.  I can't type "Navy SEALs" without having the faces of friends of ours--some who previously served as SEALs and some who still are--flash through my mind, and I remember countless drives past one of their training areas which was close to our home in San Diego.  On a personal level, I'm so impressed by how the mission to capture or kill bin Laden was carried out.  Well done, unnamed warriors!

With all of that in mind, however, I find myself challenged by the words in Proverbs 24:17, "Do not gloat when your enemy falls..." (and, to give credit where credit is due, that verse was posted by Adam C. on Facebook in relation to Osama's death).  Osama, no matter what else he did, was still a man, still God's creation, still someone who was loved and adored by many, many people.  And now, his life is over, and he's gone to face the consequences of the choices he made here on earth.  How dreadful!  How sad that there is such hatred among us, such willingness on Osama's part to orchestrate the deaths of thousands of people and to inspire such dark zeal among his loyal followers.  Part of me says, "Can't we all just get along?"  And another part of me answers with a resounding, "Apparently not!"

This morning, as I sat in my comfortable rocking chair in my comfortable living room in my comfortable home in my comfortable corner of God's green earth, I tried to explain to Josiah and David what had happened and how significant it was.  David listened briefly, then lost interest:  no surprise there.  But Josiah wanted to hear more about the raid, and his reaction mirrored my first one:  a hearty "hooray!" for our guys.  As we talked further, I tried to help him understand the other side of the coin, the Proverbs 24:17 perspective.  How do you balance those opposing views, and how do you communicate that to an eight-year-old?

Two examples came to my mind, and I shared these with Josiah.  First, when one of his brothers gets in trouble--say, for example, when Tobin is throwing a fit and has to go to his room--is it right and proper for Jeff and I to be exerting authority and disciplining Tobin in that way?  Absolutely.  However, is it OK for the other boys to stand around and laugh at Tobin and say in sneering voices, "Ha ha, you got in trouble!"  Not at all.

Second, when we were victims of an armed robbery here in our home, were we excited when we got the phone call early on Christmas morning of 2006 that the second robber had finally been arrested (the first was arrested the day of the incident)?  You betcha!  Was it right and proper for the investigators and police to do their job to apprehend and bring to justice those two men?  Oh, yes.  But when we saw those men in court and walked past their families, would it have been acceptable for us to crow and swagger and rub it in and relish the fact that "our" side had won?  No way.  Instead, our hearts went out to those men and those families; and even now, when I drive past the house of one of the men, I sometimes think of them, sitting out their years in prison, and I pray that God will reach down and penetrate, not just the walls of the prison, but the walls of their hearts and bring them to repentance.

I can't pray that for Osama.  His chance is over.  But what I can do is strive to keep my footing on the balance beam:

being grateful for my country and its military, 

but not gloating over our enemy's demise,

rejoicing to see justice done, 

while being sensitive to the pain inflicted by that justice,

praying for healing for the families of victims of 9/11, 

but most of all, longing for heaven where truly, fully, finally,

"love and faithfulness meet together,

righteousness and peace kiss each other."

In the words of the old hymn, "what a day of rejoicing that will be!"

WiW #2 - Faithfulness

I often eat my lunch after my boys are settled for afternoon naps and quiet time, and such was the case today.  So as I ate some left-over eggs and chorizo and munched on carrot sticks (and, yes, potato chips, too) and drank my mother's wonderful sweet tea, I opened the January/February issue of Thriving Family magazine and started reading.  Gotta do something fun when you eat alone!  :)

In an article by Larry Fowler, I read this:

Faithfulness, one of the fruits of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22), is a biblical word describing those who keep their promises.  It does not mean "full of faith," but rather "worthy of faith."  Faithfulness says, "I will keep my word.  I will not fail you.  I won't quit on you."  Faithfulness is the glue that keeps our actions adhering to our promises.

I like that!  And I want faithfulness to be demonstrated in how I live, so that I will grow in being a woman who is "worthy of faith."

********

For more gathered words, visit Barbara H.'s Stray Thoughts.

Spring Is For Babies...

...and this past Wednesday, Jeff got us SIX!*

They came in a box...

...and quickly excited the curiosity and won the approval of the boys.

What are they?

Chicks!!

Even though all I ever wanted...

 ...(as far as animals go)...

...was a collie...

...it IS nice...

...to have new life around the place.

Little boys...

 ...and little animals...

 ...just seem to go together...

 ...perfectly.

 And they sure are cute!

The chicks, that is.

 Well, the boys, too.

Hello, babies!

* You didn't think I was talking about ME having another baby, did you?  I wouldn't joke about something like that!  Never!  Well...OK...maybe once.  ;-)  But not today.  No, not today.