As I lay there I thought, these are little things that bring me pleasure:
* the rhythmic sound of rain pattering against the roof
* holding my husband close
* waking up in the night, and knowing I can go back to sleep!
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Little Things I Love
I woke up during the night and remembered that I forgot to switch my laundry from the washer into the dryer. I got up and finished my work from the previous evening and then returned to bed.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Never Alone
This post is for any mother out there who might be like me. I just want her to know she is not alone.
Today my house looks like someone just went through each room and threw everything that should be on a shelf or in a closet on to the floor. In reality my boys built two different forts, and then did their schoolwork leaving the books and papers and pencils scattered all around. Speaking of schoolwork. I have been trying to home school my children, but not finishing the assignments for each day. They do not understand their math or grammar, and it makes me wonder if they remember anything I have tried to teach them. My sink is so overflowing with dishes that I can't even use it. My bathtub has soggy, dirty towels piled high from when the toilet overflowed twice and we used every towel in the closet. I have been doing laundry and can't seem to finish those towels. Maybe because my children keep wetting the bed and I have endless other laundry. It is raining and it hardly ever rains here, but now I have a pile of split wood that I didn't find time to stack on the porch and it is getting all wet. Besides that my boys left their toys out in the yard and our rake and shovel. I let the fire go out twice after I struggled to light it with wet wood.
I feel like I am drowning in mess and chaos, and wonder if I am the only one who can't seem to manage a house. How do I know I am the only one? I have read the blogs.
So like I said earlier, if you happen to be like me, wondering why you are the only one who doesn't do her tasks amazingly well -- Read this.
You are not alone.
Today my house looks like someone just went through each room and threw everything that should be on a shelf or in a closet on to the floor. In reality my boys built two different forts, and then did their schoolwork leaving the books and papers and pencils scattered all around. Speaking of schoolwork. I have been trying to home school my children, but not finishing the assignments for each day. They do not understand their math or grammar, and it makes me wonder if they remember anything I have tried to teach them. My sink is so overflowing with dishes that I can't even use it. My bathtub has soggy, dirty towels piled high from when the toilet overflowed twice and we used every towel in the closet. I have been doing laundry and can't seem to finish those towels. Maybe because my children keep wetting the bed and I have endless other laundry. It is raining and it hardly ever rains here, but now I have a pile of split wood that I didn't find time to stack on the porch and it is getting all wet. Besides that my boys left their toys out in the yard and our rake and shovel. I let the fire go out twice after I struggled to light it with wet wood.
I feel like I am drowning in mess and chaos, and wonder if I am the only one who can't seem to manage a house. How do I know I am the only one? I have read the blogs.
So like I said earlier, if you happen to be like me, wondering why you are the only one who doesn't do her tasks amazingly well -- Read this.
You are not alone.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
His Glory
Do we really want God's will? Do we really want Him to be glorified?
I remember when my niece was born. She was such a beautiful little baby, and I don't just think every baby is beautiful -- even my own. She had dark hair and even-colored clear skin and nicely-shaped features and head. When she first entered the world she wasn't breathing. I realize it is not uncommon for babies not to breathe briefly but this was extended. It is a terrible feeling to be completely helpless knowing your child's life is slipping away. It was in that moment, as he watched someone else perform CPR, that God spoke to my brother-in-law and asked, "Do you trust Me? Do you want Me? Will you praise Me even in this?"
His first response was "No. I want my daughter." I appreciate his honesty. Sometimes we need to wrestle before we come to surrender.
Today I received an e-mail about another baby whose life hangs between earth and Heaven. I just wanted to post some of the father's words.
... as we partner together to pray for Reed, my Hope turns to the Lord as his(our) only hope and source of life. I believe this all powerful God and Savior that can part the Red Sea and raise the dead is powerful enough to heal Reed and give the doctors the insight they need.
The question and the mystery in the midst of this is, "what exactly is the Lord's will in this". Only he can answer that and as I pray for Reed's recovery, I also pray for the Lord's will to be done.
I want to applaud. That is the power of Christ working in a normal man's life. God is glorified through him and his wife as we see their faith shine.
All-Powerful Lord, Sustainer, Healer...You make each of us live and move and have our being...please save this little boy's life.
I remember when my niece was born. She was such a beautiful little baby, and I don't just think every baby is beautiful -- even my own. She had dark hair and even-colored clear skin and nicely-shaped features and head. When she first entered the world she wasn't breathing. I realize it is not uncommon for babies not to breathe briefly but this was extended. It is a terrible feeling to be completely helpless knowing your child's life is slipping away. It was in that moment, as he watched someone else perform CPR, that God spoke to my brother-in-law and asked, "Do you trust Me? Do you want Me? Will you praise Me even in this?"
His first response was "No. I want my daughter." I appreciate his honesty. Sometimes we need to wrestle before we come to surrender.
Today I received an e-mail about another baby whose life hangs between earth and Heaven. I just wanted to post some of the father's words.
... as we partner together to pray for Reed, my Hope turns to the Lord as his(our) only hope and source of life. I believe this all powerful God and Savior that can part the Red Sea and raise the dead is powerful enough to heal Reed and give the doctors the insight they need.
The question and the mystery in the midst of this is, "what exactly is the Lord's will in this". Only he can answer that and as I pray for Reed's recovery, I also pray for the Lord's will to be done.
I want to applaud. That is the power of Christ working in a normal man's life. God is glorified through him and his wife as we see their faith shine.
All-Powerful Lord, Sustainer, Healer...You make each of us live and move and have our being...please save this little boy's life.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Marriage...What a Beautiful Thing
This summer we will celebrate our ten year anniversary.
Marriage...what a beautiful thing.
And yet, I know as I say it is beautiful, my heart also knows the depth of its pain -- in my own marriage, in my friends' marriages. It is not a light thing for me to say that marriage is beautiful.
I say it with commitment -- commitment to serve, to love, to forgive till death parts us, during sickness and health, during riches and poverty, during good times and bad.
But I am so grateful and so blessed to share this journey with my best friend.
My husband was sitting on the couch in the next room playing the guitar when I first began to write. His words are pretty rough at this point. This song will probably never make it past the fiddling around stage, but here's a little of what I am hearing...
In this moment it feels like everything will come crashing down,
In this moment it feels like we have nothing,
And it's not easy, we can't take anymore.
But it's not easy, just to walk out that door.
Cuz we've got something, something special.
We've got something we don't see every day...
He always says he can come up with a tune, but never the right words. Perhaps he is right. Still I like how he tries to communicate that even when marriage is hard, quitting would be more painful. How can we turn our backs on years of memories and life shared together, on our children, on our God?
But it hurts. Right now I hurt for my friends. How can people keep enduring such pain?
People say that I am still wearing my "rose-tinted" glasses. Perhaps we need to be.
Yes, marriage is beautiful. It was always meant to be beautiful.
Marriage...what a beautiful thing.
And yet, I know as I say it is beautiful, my heart also knows the depth of its pain -- in my own marriage, in my friends' marriages. It is not a light thing for me to say that marriage is beautiful.
I say it with commitment -- commitment to serve, to love, to forgive till death parts us, during sickness and health, during riches and poverty, during good times and bad.
But I am so grateful and so blessed to share this journey with my best friend.
My husband was sitting on the couch in the next room playing the guitar when I first began to write. His words are pretty rough at this point. This song will probably never make it past the fiddling around stage, but here's a little of what I am hearing...
In this moment it feels like everything will come crashing down,
In this moment it feels like we have nothing,
And it's not easy, we can't take anymore.
But it's not easy, just to walk out that door.
Cuz we've got something, something special.
We've got something we don't see every day...
He always says he can come up with a tune, but never the right words. Perhaps he is right. Still I like how he tries to communicate that even when marriage is hard, quitting would be more painful. How can we turn our backs on years of memories and life shared together, on our children, on our God?
But it hurts. Right now I hurt for my friends. How can people keep enduring such pain?
People say that I am still wearing my "rose-tinted" glasses. Perhaps we need to be.
Yes, marriage is beautiful. It was always meant to be beautiful.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Unusual Post
So I've been writing, and there is one word that I can't seem to get right. I stare at it and can't think of another way of spelling it. I try to sound it out, but it's just not coming. It's such a small little word. I don't know how to spell "usual". Wait. Did I just spell it correctly? I will now go look it up.
I did it! It is right.
usual
usual
usual
The funny thing is that a day or so after I mastered this word, my son asked if I knew how to spell "usual". And I could tell him -- yes, as I matter a fact I do.
And while I am on the topic of things that no one cares about, let me just say that I must be the world's worst potty-trainer. I wish I could hire someone to do this for me and save me from the daily routine of washing out stinky underwear. My husband, true to himself, is optimistic. "It will probably take three or four weeks," he says. That to me would have been a miracle. Now that we have passed the four week mark and still daily clean out underwear, he again reassures me, "Don't worry, when he turns 18 this won't be our problem anymore."
So I press on...only 15 more years.
I did it! It is right.
usual
usual
usual
The funny thing is that a day or so after I mastered this word, my son asked if I knew how to spell "usual". And I could tell him -- yes, as I matter a fact I do.
And while I am on the topic of things that no one cares about, let me just say that I must be the world's worst potty-trainer. I wish I could hire someone to do this for me and save me from the daily routine of washing out stinky underwear. My husband, true to himself, is optimistic. "It will probably take three or four weeks," he says. That to me would have been a miracle. Now that we have passed the four week mark and still daily clean out underwear, he again reassures me, "Don't worry, when he turns 18 this won't be our problem anymore."
So I press on...only 15 more years.
Something New
My sister-in-law and a friend, both have wedding anniversaries near the same date. They both have blogs and they both happened to write about the years since their weddings; and I happened to read both blog posts on the same day.
It was one of those days when you remember anew the pain, when tears come easily, when you think a little more about the sweetness of Heaven...
One post was about the joy of their life together -- and the time they had spent celebrating it. One post was about the memories -- because my sister-in-law had lost her husband.
Memories...that's all you have left when the one you love has passed on. I know you may have trinkets, or heirlooms, pictures, or books. But there is never anything new. Never any new pictures, never any new letters. Memories -- our friend and our enemy.
This week I'm missing my brother a little more than usual. Perhaps because this week of their wedding anniversary, I remember their wedding. I remember the brick church building. Talking with friends at the wedding. How my brothers hair actually laid down pretty flat that day. Their matching green and yellow knitted sweaters. I remember the happiness of their seven years together, and I am left wishing things didn't have to be this way.
Or maybe because this week my husband's brother was in another accident. The week before I went to West Virginia for my brother's surgery, my husband's brother was in an accident. He was rushed to the hospital. People were frantic and calls were made, but he survived. (He actually made the news because his son had been the one who had been instrumental in saving his life.) But a week later, my brother went in for surgery and never came out alive. Two brothers. Two different outcomes. So my husband's brother got in another accident this week and I am reminded.
Wouldn't we be worse off if I couldn't remember? Couldn't remember the funny things he said? His funny ideas and his unruly hair? They way he liked to talk and how everyone was his friend? The music he liked? Or even the pain when you finally said goodbye? But at the same time these memories are the enemy because they leave you hungering for something more. It gets old... you want something new. You want to experience life with them, but there is no life. Everything is old, old, old. So I long again for the day when God will make everything new! New! What a beautiful word.
It was one of those days when you remember anew the pain, when tears come easily, when you think a little more about the sweetness of Heaven...
One post was about the joy of their life together -- and the time they had spent celebrating it. One post was about the memories -- because my sister-in-law had lost her husband.
Memories...that's all you have left when the one you love has passed on. I know you may have trinkets, or heirlooms, pictures, or books. But there is never anything new. Never any new pictures, never any new letters. Memories -- our friend and our enemy.
This week I'm missing my brother a little more than usual. Perhaps because this week of their wedding anniversary, I remember their wedding. I remember the brick church building. Talking with friends at the wedding. How my brothers hair actually laid down pretty flat that day. Their matching green and yellow knitted sweaters. I remember the happiness of their seven years together, and I am left wishing things didn't have to be this way.
Or maybe because this week my husband's brother was in another accident. The week before I went to West Virginia for my brother's surgery, my husband's brother was in an accident. He was rushed to the hospital. People were frantic and calls were made, but he survived. (He actually made the news because his son had been the one who had been instrumental in saving his life.) But a week later, my brother went in for surgery and never came out alive. Two brothers. Two different outcomes. So my husband's brother got in another accident this week and I am reminded.
Wouldn't we be worse off if I couldn't remember? Couldn't remember the funny things he said? His funny ideas and his unruly hair? They way he liked to talk and how everyone was his friend? The music he liked? Or even the pain when you finally said goodbye? But at the same time these memories are the enemy because they leave you hungering for something more. It gets old... you want something new. You want to experience life with them, but there is no life. Everything is old, old, old. So I long again for the day when God will make everything new! New! What a beautiful word.
Food and Raiment
My jeans have big holes in the knees and other smaller holes. Soon I will throw them away, but I really like this pair so I'm keeping them as long as possible. I am happy to wear out clothes. It was after reading Revolution in World Missions that I decided not to buy clothes. It's hard to remember now exactly how this all started. I know I was reading and feeling like I have so much in America and wanting to give more to my brothers and sisters in other countries. Why should I have a closet full of clothes when they have so little? Why not spend less money on myself so I could give more away? Especially when such a little bit of money goes so far in other countries. I kind of made an agreement with God that I would wait to buy clothes until our IRS tax debt was paid off.
It's been over two years now. After a quick look through the clothes hanging in my closet, I realize that there is only one shirt that I have bought for myself. I have been blessed by generous friends. I have been taken care of by God. I have had what I needed. At times I have wanted to be more stylish, or wanted to wear something but didn't wear it because I didn't feel I had the right pair of shoes or other accessory. Often my clothes might not be what I would choose, but I have learned something. I have learned (am learning)self-control in this area -- that I don't have to be the picture of what I think I should look like.
But I have wondered sometimes, what ever happened to those men in the Bible that vowed not to eat or drink until they had killed Paul. Did they die of starvation? Did they eventually just eat? I think at the heart of these questions I am asking "Will God continue to take care of me?" I was listening to a sermon recently and the pastor said that the question of whether we will serve God or money is really a question of where we place our trust. In what our we finding our security?
My husband and I were joking about the verse that says, "having food and clothing, be content" Eric was saying how that is all I really ever want anyways -- good food and nice clothes. It is true that those are the things that I like. Unfortunately the verse doesn't say the clothes have to be stylish or the food exciting. I need to learn to be content.
So what is God teaching me through something as simple as clothing?
I hope that through this I will be able to learn to give generously and joyfully to those in need; that I will trust God as my security and my provider; that I will be clothed with humility.
It's been over two years now. After a quick look through the clothes hanging in my closet, I realize that there is only one shirt that I have bought for myself. I have been blessed by generous friends. I have been taken care of by God. I have had what I needed. At times I have wanted to be more stylish, or wanted to wear something but didn't wear it because I didn't feel I had the right pair of shoes or other accessory. Often my clothes might not be what I would choose, but I have learned something. I have learned (am learning)self-control in this area -- that I don't have to be the picture of what I think I should look like.
But I have wondered sometimes, what ever happened to those men in the Bible that vowed not to eat or drink until they had killed Paul. Did they die of starvation? Did they eventually just eat? I think at the heart of these questions I am asking "Will God continue to take care of me?" I was listening to a sermon recently and the pastor said that the question of whether we will serve God or money is really a question of where we place our trust. In what our we finding our security?
My husband and I were joking about the verse that says, "having food and clothing, be content" Eric was saying how that is all I really ever want anyways -- good food and nice clothes. It is true that those are the things that I like. Unfortunately the verse doesn't say the clothes have to be stylish or the food exciting. I need to learn to be content.
So what is God teaching me through something as simple as clothing?
I hope that through this I will be able to learn to give generously and joyfully to those in need; that I will trust God as my security and my provider; that I will be clothed with humility.
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