Thank you?

Today my son told his brother that I was a mean parent. I know my job is not to make them like me, and I know that what we decided to do is to help them, not hurt them; still, it stings. Our boys seemed to be increasingly ungrateful. We have been away from home for about three weeks for my husband's work. Perhaps they have gotten use to less chores, more food options, being able to watch something on t.v. in the evening, going to a park or pool every day. Wow. As I write this, I feel like they had the life. So Eric and I agree we need to cut back. We are home now. Everyone in the family works together to keep the house running smoothly. (Or at least running) We need to hear more thank yous and less complaining. And now I am mean.
I am grateful for my children, but sometimes I wonder why God gave them to me, because I don't know how to raise them.

Random

Death is the final enemy that Jesus will conqueor. I am glad. It is vicious.
My head hurts, I should be sleeping.
Why is it easier to be nicer sometimes to people that I don't live with?
My husband actually sold a vehicle. This has never happened in our family before.
I am glad our fridge is not broken. It was just our son playing with the controls.

Hope for Every Man

I was just exercising the other day listening to this song. It reminds me of my brother-in-law while he was in Iraq. It reminds me of my lonely friend. It reminds me of dreams that turned into bitter reality. It reminds me of myself.

"Every Man"
by
Casting Crowns

I'm the man with all I've ever wanted
All the toys and playing games
I am the one who pours your coffee, corner booth each Saturday
I am your daughter's favorite teacher
I am the leader of the band
I sit behind you in the bleachers
I am every man

I'm the coach of every winning team and still a loser in my mind
I am the soldier in the airport facing giants one more time
I am the woman shamed and haunted by the cry of unborn life
I'm every broken man, nervous child, lonely wife

Is there hope for every man
A solid place where we can stand
In this dry and weary land
Is there hope for every man
Is there love that never dies
Is there peace in troubled times
Someone help me understand
Is there hope for every man

Seems there's just so many roads to travel, it's hard to tell where they will lead
My life is scarred and my dreams unraveled
Now I'm scared to take the leap
If I could find someone to follow who knows my pain and feels the weight
The uncertainty of my tomorrow, the guilt and pain of yesterday

There is hope for every man
A solid place where we can stand
In this dry and weary land
There is hope for every man
There is Love that never dies
There is peace in troubled times
Will we help them understand?
Jesus is hope for every man

Krispy Kreme

I really like Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Fresh and hot right off the conveyor. Dripping glaze. It melts in your mouth. My first visit to a Krispy Kreme store was when we were in Florida for my sister-in-law's wedding. We each chose a doughnut as it started the trek through the oil and then the glaze. It was a race -- whose doughnut would make it first to the boxes for packaging. We had just had a baby and I was very sore, but couldn't bring myself to sit as we watched the doughnuts race. I had to see if my doughnut choice would win.
Maybe I will open a doughnut factory and eat all the doughnuts that I want all of the time. Then my husband can just roll me home at night. When I was pregnant with my first son, Eric asked for something in the backseat of the car. "Just roll on back there," he said. I think I'll stick with vegetables and hummus.

Just Give Me Jesus

Do I adorn the Gospel of Christ? Yes, the cross is foolishness to those who don't believe, but do I make it more foolish? On Sunday one of the teachers at a church I attended read a letter from a young man who was now free from Christianity. My heart became heavy as he spoke of the things that Christians had told him. I would want to be free from his type of Christianity too! Where did people ever get the idea that to be a follower of Christ meant that you wouldn't talk to a member of the opposite sex until you were twenty-five? That somehow you were more spiritual if you sat on the other side of the room? Where did they get the idea that to make disciples meant making sure people followed you in your choice of music, clothing and hairstyle? Why would a father tell his son that the friends he grew up with before he was "converted" were tools of Satan? Didn't the Pharisees in Jesus' time say the same thing -- If He were really God, he would know these people are "sinners" -- He wouldn't eat with them. And Jesus answers -- Of course I know they are sinners, that's why I'm here. It's not the healthy that need a doctor. I am here to heal. And those poor Pharisees, who desperately needed healing went on living their self-righteous fantasy. Where is the love? Jesus says people will know we are Christians by our love. I just spent over an hour reading posts from people who had "deconverted" from Christianity. I didn't intend to spend so much time. I visited the site mentioned on Sunday to read the young man's letter myself, but the other posts were so awful, I just couldn't seem to stop. They are searching for a purpose in life. They think they have found it because now they "reason and think for themselves". They have become their own hope. They have become their own god. And I wonder, have we turned people farther away from the truth? Have we offered true hope, true purpose, true joy, or have we offered criticism, ridiculous standards, external righteousness?
Take the whole world -- just give me Jesus.

Boys Scare Me

Why is this sock in the bathtub? I ask as I pick it up to throw it with the dirty laundry.
Micah answers, Because it was in the toilet.
Great. I drop it quickly.
Of course this lead to the next obvious question, Why was it in the toilet???
How many of these types of questions have I asked? The young mind understands. It makes sense to them, but I am puzzled.
Why is the table on top of my bed?
Why are you on top of the fridge?
Why is there toothpaste on my ceiling?
I wonder if they find me puzzling as well.
Why can't we stand on our chairs while we eat?
Why must we sleep -- it's only 11PM?
Some day they will grow old and understand me, but who ever understands the mind of a child? So full of imagination and adventure. His surroundings become a stage for a world of endless possibilities. In his play he can be anything or do anything. Have we lost something with age? Do we dare to dream? Do we dare to hope?