As Boys Become Men

It could overwhelm me ... these memories of all I wanted to see when my boys became men. ... Because they are nothing like what I had wanted or hoped for them to become at this point in their lives.

... And they are everything and more.

I still live among boys. All day. Every day. But they are quickly becoming men, and I see it more and more every day.

I see it when I wash clothes and can't tell what belongs to whom because everything is pretty much the same size now ... and that size is ... big. I see it when they get rowdy and wrestle and I feel certain something is about to break ... something like a door or window ... or a wall. I see it when I'm having an emotional crisis and I suddenly feel strong arms around me and a broad chest supporting me and I'm still a single mom, so it must be one of these huge children that lives in my house.

Sometimes it could overwhelm me ... because I had plans and dreams of what I was trying to accomplish and I made sacrifices and choices that were more than a little unconventional, and what I see before me is nothing like what I planned. They are not solid, sure-footed men of God with rock-solid faith ... not yet, anyway. They aren't loaded with accolades and recognitions that point to me as single-homeschooling-mother-of-the-decade. They don't navigate their brotherly relationships with patient negotiations that end with handshakes and bro-hugs, but instead more often end up with everyone feeling like a nuclear bomb of emotions has gone off in our living room and at least one person leaves the room enraged and no one really feels like we settled anything. And most days their lives don't yet affirm that I made the right choices or that my sacrifices were worth what I gave up on our behalf.

Instead these big kids play too many video games, eat too much junk food, watch too much TV (and some shows I'd rather not mention for fear that my weak parenting would really show!). They steal each other's food and ignore repeated requests to do chores and when they do the chores I'm frustrated that the work is only half-way done. They struggle in school, share about our lives too freely (wonder where they get that from?), or don't seem to connect well with their peers. They fight, insult each other, pick new fights, and storm off instead of working things out. They walk past trash on the floor and drop belongings everywhere until I realize I finally need a backhoe and a pressure washer to clean the rooms downstairs. Their rooms are a mess, they presume too much upon my precious free time, and they get mad when I try to make them do what they should already have done or when I won't do what they want me to do exactly when they want it.

So I live with the haunting "voices" that tell me I'm a failure as a mom, that I'm not demanding enough of them, that I don't set a good enough example, and that everything I thought I was doing out of conviction and intentional purpose was really just a way of indulging my laziness and clinging to ideals that my single-mom life couldn't support.

But the voices are lying.

Because I also see three boys who passionately, loyally care for the people in their lives, each in his own way, even when helping those people gets risky, messy, and painful. I see boys who quickly (and sometimes not so quickly) rise to the challenge of helping those who cannot help themselves. I have teenage boys who love kids and don't see it as a waste of their time to load up in the car with a battery of swords and ammo belts and imaginary super powers so they can play with kids ten or more years younger than themselves for hours on end simply for the pleasure of hanging out and playing. Most of all, I delight in having boys who on an ordinary day act like ordinary teenage boys who want space and separating distance from Mom, but on a day when life is collapsing in on me are so concerned about my well-being that they are right there to do anything I need and to hug me and tell me things aren't as bad as they seem to be ... that I'M not as bad as I seem to be, and they point me back to the Savior that I've been pointing them to all this time!

I have to remind myself almost daily that none of us are done yet.

"In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy ... being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus."  Phillipians 1:4, 6

I have never taken my task as a mom lightly. There have been times that I carefully considered the choices I've made - the why and how and what might be. There have also been times when I was overcome with depression, health struggles, exhaustion, and even just my own weakness and sin ... and I just didn't do all I could have or should have done. I can see my own sin-stuggles mirrored in them (because oh my! I have passed them along well!), and I can see my convictions and passions and desire to serve with whatever I do have passed along too, and I'm proud of those things.

My boys may yet become great men of God. They may choose, fail, and struggle miserably as they wrestle with God and with themselves. They may suffer through no fault of their own, from tragedy and difficulties, and question and wonder if God is all He says He is. They may also rise to the challenges they face, make wise choices, and act honorably in ways that surprise them as well as me. In fact, they probably will each have times of great success and troubling trials as they navigate life in this fallen world, and they will probably continue to experience these things even after I'm no longer around to offer my sage wisdom and advice.

But God isn't done. He was working then, is working now, and will continue to work on me and in each of my three boys until the day His work on us is complete and we join Him in eternity.

There is one thing I am sure of: the God I love and serve will still be right there, walking through life with them, working out His plan for His glory and their good ... just like He promises. That is worth every sacrifice. That justifies every choice I've made. That will redeem even my worst sins and mistakes.

And that is what I get to witness ... as I watch boys become men.

The 4 Minute Mothering Habit

Again, I'm reminded, and I wonder: When will I be over it? When will I forget? When will my scarlet D be removed? Again I tell myself: Never. It is a part of who I am - a part of the story that God has written into my life, and God never uses erasers on our story. I am divorced. I don't have a husband or a marriage. For now, that's not a part of the adventure God has written for me. 

It's not that I envy others who experience wonderful marriages ... that I would ever want to take the joys and struggles of marriage away from someone else .... I just grieve again and again for all those dreams and plans of which I have had to let go. Again ... and again.

I go through all this emotion while reading a favorite blog ... Not that it's unusual for me to experience a lot of emotion when I read Ann's blog, but I don't like these emotions ... don't like revisiting them.

But what she shares is truth ... a key to strengthening relationship ... advice for enhancing koinonia. She asks Who doesn’t want a deeper relationship? and I remember "Bloom where you're planted."

I may not have a husband to try these methods with, but I have relationships. And although they may require some very different things from the marriage relationship, they still need some of the same things too. So I take her advice, and consider what it should look like with my boys, and how these 4 Minute Marriage Habits can be transformed to 4 Minute Mothering Habits:



1. Four Focuses
Four times a day focus on the promises I've made to God in raising these boys to manhood. When they wake in the morning, leave the front door, return to front door, head off to bed - even with my young men, these are the four critical archways of time in our day. Touch or whisper encouragements at these gate points, reminding them that they are my treasures. No matter what has transpired through the day, I should take these four opportunities to remind them that no matter what has happened or what will happen, I want them and am here cheering for them.

2. Four Touches
Four times a day, intentionally touch them. Hug them and look in their eyes. Rub their back. Hold their hands a minute. Kiss their hair. Intentionally repeat it four times daily. Connection requires contact. Even though my boys are at different stages of acceptance of public displays of affection, they all still need to be touched. I need to look for private moments to remind them that we are connected and that they are very much loved.

3. Four Affirmations
Four times during the day, thank them. For diligently completing schoolwork, for being kind to their brother, for giving me a hug, for taking out the trash. Look for the ways to thank each of them. Recognize the strength in their character and compliment it ... but be prepared to give them a specific example or two of how they demonstrate such qualities.

It has been a long time since I thought of this, but when the boys were little, I had simple goals. One of them was that each boy, when asked "Who is mommy's favorite?" would say, "Me." I want each boy to feel so special to me, that it is easy for him to believe he is my favorite. I still want that today, but that goal gets lost among the goals of finishing schoolwork on time (or at all!), and getting everyone to the places he needs to be, and remembering in between all the taking-care-of to make sure I get a shower and eat and read my Bible! The 4 Minute Mothering Habits can go a long way to making each of the boys feel special, treasured, favored.

As I consider these habits, I suddenly realize the biggest way that these 4 Minute Mothering Habits differ from those in Marriage: I am only doing these for them until I surrender these habits to their new wives. And after all, that is one of the biggest reasons I want to mother them well - because I want them to be loving husbands and fathers who know how to love and to be loved.

So I guess it is all about marriage after all. And I do play a very big part in this loveliest of relationships!

Redeeming a Shame-filled Heritage

It is not unusual to find that the genealogy of Jesus is skimmed over at Christmas time. We are eager to get to the miraculous conception and the baby in the manger, and we hurry through all those difficult names and messy, sin-filled lives. We consider those men sort of insignificant - extras in the cast of a wonderful story. Personally, I love to linger over those names as I prepare for the Christmas story. I've always loved the thought that the people mentioned were real live breathing people, with jobs and families, feelings and dreams. Some of them I know well, because chapters of scripture are written about them, but some are mysterious, and I wonder what their lives were like. For years I've  wondered with amazement at the women mentioned in Jesus' genealogy - Tamar who seduced her father-in-law to have a child, Rahab the Jericho harlot who saved the Israelite spies, Ruth the Moabitess who loyally served her Jewish mother-in-law, and Bathsheba who committed adultery with a king. None of them are actually women that Jewish law and tradition would have considered upright and praiseworthy, but each, in her brokenness and sin, was made worthy because God chose them to be a part of His own Son's earthly story.

Then it hit me this morning. One of the first sacrifices Jesus made for us was to identify with a heritage of people who had messy, complicated, and very sinful lives. It wasn't just the women who were "disreputable" in some way, it was ALL of the people mentioned. Idolaters, adulterers, murderers, liars, cheaters, cowards, thieves … the list goes on and on. Even though some of the men mentioned were considered righteous by God, even those men committed some pretty awful sins. These were the men that the holy, righteous, good Son of God identified Himself with. He set aside His very identity as the only Son of God, and exchanged it for a genealogy of men and women who were known for their shortcomings, weaknesses, and sins. That horrifies me … and at the same time I find great comfort in it. To think of the burden Jesus bore at being related to such people almost embarrasses me. But then I realize that it is because of this that I can understand and accept His willingness to identify Himself with me. It fills me with awe that God is able to use even MY weak, broken, sinful life to bring about great things, because He has used lives like mine for generations past to bring about the full revelation of Himself in His Son.

There is great comfort for me in this list of men and women. As I look at this long list of names and see among them men who failed as fathers, I realize that God can bring about good for and from our children, even when we fail. As I see men and women marked through generations for their sins I realize God can use sinners like me. As I pick out names of no ones, I see that God is able to use simple, unremarkable people for great glory and blessing. God brings good out of failure and sin. God brings blessing to those who don't deserve it. God uses the weak and broken to show His strength. That is the whole message in the Christmas story.

There is one more surprise in this "boring list of names." We live in a world where families are divided and filled with disputes and dissension. In broken families husbands and wives fight, control over children is argued over, and children are left trying to figure out how to put together a genealogy of parents, step-parents, half-siblings, live-in boyfriends or girlfriends, etc. Joseph had no actual claim to the paternity of Jesus, and he knew it. And yet here in Matthew God does not dispute Joseph's lineage in the story of His Son, but proclaims it. God used the illegitimate relationship of Joseph to fulfill His very true and legitimate prophecies of His Son's genealogy. It makes sense. None of us are really "legitimate" children of God; we are all adopted. We are only made legitimate by God's One and Only Son. The only One who could claim His true paternity was of God was Jesus, yet instead of clinging to this identity and keeping it for Himself, He shared it. Isn't sharing Jesus and opening up our homes - our families - one of the best gifts we can give to those who don't have Him?

What I Would Have Said

Last year our church began a new tradition of having a Thanksgiving service the Sunday evening before Thanksgiving.  We come together and sing and there are open mics for those who want to share what God has done for them during that year.  I am always humbled as I hear more stories of healing and of faithfulness through continued sickness, of restored marriages, of the provision of jobs. I love hearing kids who are grateful for families, schools, and friends--I was one of those not long ago (OK. Longer than  I care to admit.), and it is an amazing testimony to realize extremes in God's protection of you as a child. I am usually a pretty outgoing soul, and I love my share of the spotlight, but I have not been eager to get up on these couple of occasions. It's not that I'm not grateful, because God has done so many things for me, big and small. I'm just not sure what to say. How can I get up and share in only a few minutes the vast number of things that God has done for me in the course of a year.Tonight I was trying to form my thoughts, but for me it's so much easier to write it. 

I grew up in a large gregarious extended family. Every holiday or birthday I was surrounded with aunts, uncles, and cousins. I had a very close-knit neighborhood, where the kids banded together and created adventures, the grown-ups had regular yard sales, and we were in and out of each others' homes and lives constantly.  Even my church was a tight group--my parents were always going to another couple's home or having kids from a family in the church to spend the night.  My family was pretty close to ideal--including sit-down meals, yearly vacations, PTA meetings, and parent sponsored parties. Life was safe and comfortable and full of relationships. It isn't surprising that I married into the same kind of family. My husband's immediate family was full of brokenness, but his extended family relationships were very similar to mine--loud, busy, loving, and involved with each other. I felt completely at home with them.  It was my every intention to raise my kids just the same way, in the middle of their very large, very busy, very relational family.

God's plan for them and for me was different.  Over the years, my big extended family grew and changed, and some estrangements and grudges weakened the involvement with each other.  He took my mother home to heaven just after my first son was born.  Later He took my husband from our home when we divorced, and with it some of the family I loved. Not long after that my sister moved to the far away northern United States, and my dad was also called home to heaven. Suddenly I was left feeling very alone, an orphan AND a widow. I struggled for years with depression and anxiety, and as a result health issues plagued me. I couldn't sleep well, and over time my ability to think and focus weakened. I had severe bouts of loneliness as the many-times-over promised new husband never appeared on my doorstep.  All along I wondered why after years I was still hurting so, whether God would ever heal my aching heart, and who would take care of me when I couldn't.

But let the godly rejoice. Let them be glad in God's presence. Let them be filled with joy.  Sing praises to God and to his name! Sing loud praises to him who rides the clouds. His name is the LORD-- rejoice in his presence!  Father to the fatherless, defender of widows-- this is God, whose dwelling is holy. God places the lonely in families; he sets the prisoners free and gives them joy. But for rebels, there is only famine and distress.  Psalm 68:3-6

The truth is, God prepared my life for these dark years even before I entered them.  He had peppered it with older women who mentored me and loved me along the way, and they quickly stepped in at different points to offer their unique gifts of prayer, hospitality, comfort, counsel, and many others.  God brought a special young woman into my life--a young mother who piqued my curiosity even before we were friends--who consistently spoke truth into my life and loved me even when I was more than a little unlovable. He gave me a mother-in-law and father-in-law who would so grow in their love for Him that they would let their own son go the way he wanted and refuse to desert me just because he didn't want me any longer. He almost literally surrounded me with families who repeatedly have said to me that they love me, they believe in me and in the choices I've been making (even when some have been foolish!), and that they will respond to God's leading when He chooses to provide for me through them.  He's given me prayer warriors, counselors, moms with shoulders for crying on, and brothers in Christ who correct my female notions of how to raise boys. Many of these individuals and families have not stuck with me for a few months, or even a couple years, they have been with me all along, and continue to declare their love for me over and over again. They stick by me because we are joint heirs in a covenant sealed with Christ's blood, and I have found it is a covenant thicker than water, and even more than the usual blood.

It is still not unusual for me to still struggle with bouts of self-pity as I succumb to the loneliness and hugeness of being a single mom, but it is rare for me to get lost in it for long.  God is still busy on my behalf, raising up women and couples and families who love me and my boys like we are their own family, because they understand that we are . . . for eternity.  So if I could have shared what I am thankful for this year, it would have been that even though my story didn't end with the magical marriage reconciliation, or a new husband who treasures me, it still ended with the miracle of family--the kind God sets the lonely in, and the kind that bears with you in love. It is the kind of family that makes me long for heaven, when I will enjoy family at its fullest and best!

Getting My Dream Vacation

For so many years, our family vacations were to places like Disney World or Sea World. Entertaining our kids was the priority. But for about five years now, I have longed for a REAL vacation--a vacation that was as much for me as for the kids. We came close last year when the grandparents took us all to Chatanooga, and we stayed in a cabin there, but there was still touring the local sights, at a bit of a clip. There was lots of time for playing games, enjoying the mountains around us, and even watching movies together, but it was still pretty exhausting. This year, the grandparents and my sister Mary came down to us, and we vacationed at the beach. A friend let us use a beach condo, and it has truly been relaxing, and refreshing. I came with certain goals, and I must admit, I didn't fulfill them all. I really wanted to spend lots of time quiet and alone with God, but I'm having a hard time breaking out of my sinful rut of letting other things take His place. I guess I've begun to realize that time and place won't cure that. I'm just going to have to arrange my schedule to make Him first place.

But some of my goals--playing with the boys on the beach, taking a long moonlit stroll on the beach, getting up before dawn to watch the sunrise--these I've done. We have watched lots of TV together, the only thing I wish we have done less of, but it has been fun anyway. During the week while my parents and sister were here there was so much freedom for us all--Grandpa would take all the kids swimming, or Aunt Mary and I would take them down to the beach, or they'd go off with Nana and Grandpa for a while. I loved not having the plan meals or cook (Nana and Mary seem to enjoy cooking. Go figure! I was content cleaning up!) On Friday when they left to return home, the boys and I were so down, and it was hard being without them.

Yesterday, the two younger boys and I went down to the beach for the whole afternoon. We built a huge sandcastle, bathed in the ocean, buried each of the boys in the sand, and laughed and played together. It was such great fun! Today we drove down to Washington Oaks State Park and went to a rockiy shell beach. We added to our huge collection of shells, Stephen and I took photographs of the rocky beach, and we played in the water on a beach that was very different from the one we've enjoyed the week on this week. I have been amazed at how much creativity I have seen in God's creation this week--a thousand different colored shells, gentle waves, followed by rough, harsh waves, totally different skies from day to day, and so many ways to enjoy being outside in the sun and surf.

I guess I am touched that God would give me this vacation. I couldn't afford it, but God worked out the financial end. I certainly don't feel like I deserve it. I have loved it, and hate to go back to "real life," and all the decisions awaiting me there. But I feel rested and ready to work again. Hopefully all the beauty and nature around me will continue to inspire me for a while longer.

I LOVE Homeschooling!

Things I love about a new year of homeschooling:

• Snuggling together to pray and read the Bible. (OK. The teenager doesn't snuggle.)
• The boys begging for their treat bags on the first day of school.
• Eating breakfast together and TALKING!
• Realizing I just got to be irritated at the nine-year-old because I had to tell him the two billionth time to sit down and do his math test. (Instead of being irritated at some stranger for bugging me!)
• Hearing them read to me, and knowing I taught them to do that!
• Racing from downstairs to upstairs and back again to help with problems and answer questions.
• Doing my laundry and dishes while I work!
• Hearing "what's for lunch?" and "is it lunch time yet?"
• Stephen's jokes, Andrew's advice, and Josh's sarcastic comments.
• Seeing checked off assignment sheets.
• Grading math papers and realizing they've got it!
• Hearing the comment, "C.S. Lewis was an amazing writer!"
• Seeing the whole room stop to watch the cat try to steal beef jerky.
• Laughing, giggling, playing, eating, getting mad, hugging, telling jokes, learning . . . and doing it all together!
• Knowing we got through another day of school.

Where the Boys Are

Ahh, in working with Jr. High girls, I remember this song of my youth . . . how embarrassing! How I wasted so much time then!

Now of course it means something totally different. I realized as I was looking over my blogging that I haven't mentioned the boys of late. Since supposedly this whole blog is mostly about living with boys, here is an update:

Josh: has been faithfully and dilligently working through his first year of school away from home--at private Christian school. The homework load has been much less than I expected. I have discovered in him a very anti-establishment attitude. He questions every rule, every reprimand, every math fact, every instruction . . . the boys wants to know WHY!!! The hormones are a-raging, and he is mad all the time no matter what I do. I of course don't dare acknowledge that I belong to him in public . . . on penalty of death, I think. However he is making great grades, is working exceptionally hard (both at our after-school job where he helps me clean, and at home when I ask him to do some chore), is communicating with words his constant frustrations and irritations, and assures me that he still loves me (although sometimes I have to remind him I'm a girl and that I need to hear him say it). He's a great kid, and someone I truly respect and admire, although I'm a little concerned about a "crisis of faith" that he's battling right now as he searches for his own identity.

Stephen: Still very much the happy-go-lucky boy, just in a rapidly growing and always eating body. Stephen never finishes his schoolwork, but always seems to know more than me. He is still very sensitive, but as the pre-teen hormones are starting to stir, I see it emerge more as anger now than as tears (although sometimes the two appear together). Stephen's highly creative streak bounces from one interest to another: at the beginning of the schoolyear he was hard into stop-motion animation and computers, and now is drawing and sketching everything. Stephen's biggest challenge this year has been working via Florida Virtual School, which violates his free, impulsive, unconstrained approach to work. Nevertheless, he also is proving he is capable of doing "classroom" work, and is showing signs of improvement both in his computer skills and his art (the two classes he is taking are 2D Art and Keyboarding). Stephen's heart is still very tender to the Lord, and to those in need around him.

Andrew: AJ has been full of surprises this year. He was having great difficulty reading at the beginning of the schoolyear, but has made leaps and bounds in the last couple of months. Suddenly words are popping out all over the place, and when they do AJ tries to read them! School efforts are moving along now at a nice clip, so much so that he and I have started reading and studying anything we can get our hands on about the Colonial and Revolutionary period of American history. It has been fun seeing what he is learning once again beginning to take over his imagination. Andrew's latest endeavors have been book-writing. He starts many, though rarely makes it to the finish. However he writes and draws all day, intermitten with fighting imaginary enemies (and a couple real brothers) outside whenever possible. I love Andrew's energy, as well as his delight in snuggling and being with me. Maybe I baby him a little, but I figure that's OK. He does NOT get away with everything!

Having essentially three different ages and stages has kept me awfully busy. I'm trying to balance youth group, scouting on two levels, friend get-togethers (not playdates anymore!), this school event and that one, etc. I spend much of my life in the car. Fortunately I have kept their outside committments few, and they usually share events (like the older two both do youth group, the younger two are both in homeschool support group together and have scouting back-to-back at the same location). And after much prayer and discussion with Josh, it looks like we will probably all be home again next year for school. (Not so sure if that's a light at the end of the tunnel, or just the headlight of a train!)

Just so I'm clear, if you've placed a call and asked me for something, or if you want to catch up over coffee . . . we can schedule something . . . in about ten years!!!!

The Crazy Cat at Our House

OK, it's been a while since I posted on "the queen." She has become more insane than I ever thought possible. Gracie is our rescued feral cat. We found her summer before last behind our church, a mere week-old kitten. That she survived was a surprise, although I'm not so shocked now seeing how feisty she is. She thinks the house is hers, and all who live here or who enter are at her whim. No guest goes unchecked, and usually gets a swipe of the paw and a hiss (just to put them in their place). Although she hates for us to pick her up, or pet her, or generally look in our direction, she doesn't avoid us either, and in fact she usually follows me from room to room. She does this even if I've just harassed her.

She LOVES paper balls! If I wad up a piece of paper she comes running and when I throw it in the trash she pulls it out and carries it in her mouth to whatever location she wants to play with it (usually one with a tile floor). She likes her water fresh, so she is constantly knocking the boys' water cups off the counter so she can lap the fresh water up off the floor. She isn't afraid of the dogs in the least, and usually attacks them just for fun. The German Shepherd cowers. She likes her dog food, but every now and then gets a hankering for dog food, so she bullies the dogs out of the way and eats what she wants. She always waits for me to finish my yogurt, ice cream, etc. so she can lick the bowl. She is a perpetual kitten, and several times a day has very playful moods where she runs around and trills, trying to get someone to play with her. When we do, she usually ends up attacking us.

She has every person in our house wrapped around her little paw, and she's so soft and cute that nobody can keep their hands off of her. You know, if I were watching all this from the outside, I'd think we were nuts to let an animal take so much control, but truth is, we love her. She's the queen and we are her mere servants. But it's OK to be a servant to the queen. Right?

New Christmas Blessings

Wow! Did we ever make Christmas memories this year! I was especially blessed to have my beloved parents-in-love (from here on out to be known and Mom and Dad--I think my parents would agree to sharing the titles!) come down and stay with the boys and I for Christmas. Not having much family to share the holidays with, I casually mentioned to them that I thought it would be fun to spend Christmas together this year. They JUMPED on the idea, and made plans lickety split, so here they were for a week. We had fun shopping and eating together, watching movies until our eyes bulged. AJ and Lilly played together until they argued like siblings. Papa and Josh were pretty much joined at the hip, and Josh is thoroughly corrupted politically now! But it was fun! I'm still recovering from the fun!

Fun Fall Stuff

Ahh . . . fall in Florida! This year we are getting exactly what I love: cool weather! So here is our fall celebration so far:

Although we don't celebrate Halloween, we do love to cut up a pun'kin.
Even Josh wanted to do it this year, which was kind of funny-
watching him carve a pumpkin without ever putting his hands into it!

The gooey-er, grosser, or more disgusting, the more Stephen likes it.
He actually tasted the raw pumpkin this year!

Yes, lookout, folks! AJ got to carve his own pumpkin face this year.
And we all know what that means . . . . he's loose with a knife!!!
He sure was proud of his creation though!

Our actually "Halloween Eve" was spent at a great celebration at our church
(the Reformation is very important to us!).

Josh was in a skit.

Stephen and AJ spent the evening pal'ing around with their friends!

Vacation

The boys and I have spent the last week in the N.Ga. mountains with Nana and Grandpa. We stayed in a cabin in Cloudland Canyon State Park, and we had such a great time. We did some of the touristy things-visited Rock City and Ruby Falls, went to the Chattanooga Aquarium and the Zoo. But mostly we just rested and played together. We played games. Mom and I planned school for next year. It was just plain fun. All three of the boys raved about it, so I'm raving too. As with all vacations, the only problem with it was that it was too short!

More details later.

Stephen on a climbing wall at the TOP of Lookout Mountain.

A teenager daydreaming as he watches the fish.

AJ and Lilly found a snail and watched it crawl along for the longest time.

Kings (and queen) of the mountain!

Grandpa Andy (Papa) and the kids petting fish at the aquarium.

Summer (Not So) Fun

OK. So here's what our summer has entailed so far:

To start off June we had a week off, then Andrew went back and forth to Cub Scout Day camp while the boys and I bounced between loafing and working around the house (although you can hardly tell now!). Then we had a wild and crazy week of Vacation Bible School, followed by a partial week of recovery (read: sleeping late and laying around). Then Andrew was off to visit with his Mimi and Pawpaw in St. Augustine, and the older boys headed off to Jr. High camp. Now we're recovering again, and next week will head off on vacation with the grandparents in metro-Atlanta. Then it's home for about two weeks before we start school again.

What is the purpose of summer again?

Papa, We LOVE You!

Papa came down last weekend and while he was here to see his dad, he stayed with us for a night. It was so good to be with him. He takes such good care of us (Nana too!). He is counting down the days until our vacation near Chatanooga when he gets to be with ALL of his kids!

The boys and "Papa" or "Grandpa Andy" to us.

While he was here, Andrew had his Daycamp closing program, so Papa went with us. I think he had a lot of fun reminiscing about his days as a scout. AJ was thrilled to have someone besides Mom taking pride in his activities. Notice how DIRTY that shirt is. I've washed it and it still doesn't look clean!

Blessings: God's Answer for a Difficult Life

Psalm 127
A song of ascents. Of Solomon.

Unless the LORD builds the house,

its builders labor in vain. Unless the LORD watches over the city,

the watchmen stand guard in vain.

In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat--

for he grants sleep to those he loves.

Sons are a heritage from the LORD,

children a reward from him.

Like arrows in the hands of a warrior

are sons born in one's youth.

Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them.

They will not be put to shame

when they contend with their enemies in the gate.
Psalms 127:1-5 (NIV)

I was just sharing with a friend how this Psalm hit me in a moment of anxiety and stress. I was struck by the progression in it, particularly from the vanity of frantic working, toiling, and going without sleep in an attempt to handle the difficulty of life. Then came the answer—God’s answer: children. Although a number of my friends had urged me to use my little blessings more extensively, it wasn’t until I saw it in this Psalm that I resolved to really hold the boys up to higher expectations of helping around the house (and around life!).

Tonight I went through some commentaries to see if any of the wise men I respect noticed the same thing. I found some interesting and even humorous things in Adam Clarke’s 19th century commentary.

This Psalm may be entitled, "The Soliloquy of the happy Householder: - The
poor man with a large loving family, and in annual expectation of an increase,
because his wife, under the Divine blessing, is fruitful." All are blessed of
the Lord, and his hand is invariably upon them for good.
—Adam Clarke's Commentary

This is his summary. Read on for some of the particulars that I liked.

Lo, children are a heritage of the Lord - That is, To many God gives children in
place of temporal good. To many others he gives houses, lands, and thousands of
gold and silver, and with them the womb that beareth not; and these are their
inheritance. The poor man has from God a number of children, without lands or
money; these are his inheritance; and God shows himself their father, feeding
and supporting them by a chain of miraculous providences. Where is the poor man
who would give up his six children, with the prospect of having more, for the
thousands or millions of him who is the center of his own existence, and has
neither root nor branch but his forlorn solitary self upon the face of the
earth? Let the fruitful family, however poor, lay this to heart; "Children are a
heritage of the Lord; and the fruit of the womb is his reward." And he who gave
them will feed them; for it is a fact, and the maxim formed on it has never
failed, "Wherever God sends mouths, he sends meat." "Murmur not," said an Arab
to his friend, "because thy family is large; know that it is for their sakes
that God feeds thee." —Adam Clarke's Commentary

Kind of cute since my best friend happens to have six children. What a rich couple she and her husband are!!! I also love that he seems to agree with my crazy idea that God will feed my boys and I through “a chain of miraculous providences.” Some of those providences might include different types of work, some might include the generosity and love of others, and who knows? Sometimes it might be manna from heaven or flour and oil that never seems to run out!

Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them - This is generally supposed
to mean his house full of children, as his quiver if full of arrows; but I
submit whether it be not more congenial to the metaphors in the text to consider
it as applying to the wife: "Happy is the man who has a breeding or fruitful
wife;" this is the gravida sagittis pharetra "the quiver pregnant with arrows."
But it may be thought the metaphor is not natural. I think otherwise: and I know
it to be in the Jewish style, and the style of the times of the captivity, when
this Psalm was written—Adam Clarke's Commentary

I LOVE it!!! I know a breeding, fruitful wife, and even though she’s a bit fruity at times, her husband IS a blessed man!

With the enemies in the gate. - "When he shall contend with his adversaries in
the gate of the house of judgment." - Targum. The reference is either to courts
of justice, which were held at the gates of cities, or to robbers who endeavor
to force their way into a house to spoil the inhabitants of their goods. In the
first case a man falsely accused, who has a numerous family, has as many
witnesses in his behalf as he has children. And in the second case he is not
afraid of marauders, because his house is well defended by his active and
vigorous sons. It is, I believe, to this last that the psalmist refers.

Heh, heh, heh. Don’t I know all about this! People comment that I don’t have to fear a burglar because of the German Shepherd guarding our house. Forget the dog! Look out for my little "virgorous and active sons!" They spend HOURS a day practicing the use of their weapons, and would LOVE to practice on living human subjects of the bad-guy kind!

Anyway, these are just thoughts from me. I do love this Psalm. It’s interesting how in our culture we’ve inverted the role of children to being our burden instead of relieving our burden.

National Lampoon's Cub Scout Adventure

I spent Friday night and a very LONG Saturday at Cuboree, an annual Cub Scout camping event. It was fun. Yeah. I can't wait to go next year. And I'm SO relieved that next year is still a year away.

As usual, all my plans for getting out of the house early went to pot. Somehow I always feel like my life operates according to Murphy's Law. I awoke Friday morning feeling a little under the weather--like I was coming down with a bug. A very dear friend had agreed to take my boys along with her on a co-op field trip, so I had most of the day to get stuff done, but instead I started the morning taking a needed nap. I wouldn't have, except I knew the boys would be very disappointed if I couldn't take them camping. When I got up, I had an extended quiet time with the Lord, then I had to get my five hours of chores done in about one. Not a great start.

I managed to pull together most of our camping stuff, but even after I picked the boys up and got them home, I kept thinking of so many things I needed to do before I left, that we left much later than planned. We finally arrived at the camp ground at about 7 pm. It was hot and very muggy, and I was already sweaty, tired and crabby from the hectic packing and leaving. With very generous help from the dads on the trip, I managed to get set up pretty quickly, and the evening was pretty laid back--mostly just playing around the campsite and toasting white fuel. (I've decided that I need to just reset my thinking and call marshmallows what they are--fuel.) Of course, it was laid back after I made the trip home to get some important things I forgot (like the pump to blow up the air mattress).

Getting ready for bed was a little tricky. While the scout camp ground was equipped with enough Port-O-Potties, there wasn't much in the way of other facilities. I suppose other people had had a rough evening too, but there wasn't much excuse for the guy who kept heckling us while we (three of us!) used the bathroom to do our end-of-the-evening business (the kind even boys can't do in the woods!) and clean up. I finally told the guy in no uncertain terms that there was a line INSIDE the bathroom just like there was one outside!

Then we headed back to our tent and the boys headed inside while I washed my filthy feet (bright idea wearing my imitation Crock sandals in Florida dirt). As I was trying to clean myself up, the boys found a guest in our tent--the kind with wings and a large brown body, and a cute Mexican song named for him. They kept panicking over him, while I kept telling them to just pick him up and throw him out--after all, it is better to catch him than to have him crawl over you in the middle of the night! (Ugghh! Gives me the heebie jeebies all over again!) But he got away. So I searched all over (didn't want him crawling on ME in the night) and finally freed him from the constraints of our tent.

At last we laid our sweaty bodies down in the stuffy tent. (Sadly, I had to sleep on the real hard ground. The pump made it but the nozel to fit into the mattress didn't.) The boys complained that they'd never be able to fall asleep, and I had just enough time to threaten their lives if they touched me before I heard them snoring. It only took me another two hours to start dozing. But dozing was all I did for a long while. First the heat kept me awake. Then one of my boys started talking in his sleep. Then I heard another boy in another tent crying for mommy. Night noises. Woodsy noises. My other boy sitting up and talking. Finally I dozed off, almost asleep. It was probably about 2:30 am. At about 3:30 I was jarred awake by the sound of wheezing--an all-too-familiar sound of someone (a dad, not a kid) having an asthma attack. My heart raced as I wondered what to do. Finally I got up and stepped out of the tent. By that time, he had evidently found an inhaler and the gasping had turned to just coughing, and was settling down. But of course my heart was racing and my adrenaline pumping. I was wide awake now. And hey! It was cool outside! But I got back into my tent and decided to read and pray for a while. Then I went back to sleep for a few more hours.

Morning came too soon, but I got up, got the boys fed and we headed to the flag ceremony. The day was filled with activities for the boys, as I ran back and forth to camp to pack things up, break down the tent and lug stuff to the car (we weren't allowed to take the parked cars back into the camp sites on Saturday). After lunch, I left for a while to head home (just a couple miles away) and check on the dogs and at that time I did the smartest thing of the day--I unloaded most of our stuff. I spent the rest of the day walking and either looking for our pack or watching the boys.

While I know this sounds like a terrible trip, and it WAS hot and exhausting, I actually found many things for which to be thankful. Last year every single camping trip we had planned was cancelled by inclement weather or something else. All year I never felt the group blended well. But this weekend I was able to get to know and really enjoy the other dads and boys. It was really fun to be around guys talking about air conditioning units and football teams--I don't get to do that much. It was also fun to see the boys really enjoying other boys, and running around without hinderance. The activities were fun for them, and the men there really pitched in and watched my boys or helped me with things so I could juggle everything.

I was also thankful that Saturday we had overcast weather and a little rain, but it never poured. It was nice weather for outdoors activities. We also came home to a fairly clean house, and although I still have all the stuff to go through, I always feel good when I do something so out of my element like camping. One of the experienced dads teased me as a couple of newer dads helped me set up that I was actually more experienced than anyone there. It was fun going and kind of knowing what I was doing. And even though it was hot, and I clearly saw again how out of shape I am physically, I survived, got much needed exercise, and slept VERY well last night. I also really appreciate all the little luxuries God has given us that I usually take for granted (like air conditioning and hot showers).

So the next camping trip? Well, I think we could go.

Movie Review: Night at the Museum

Our family really loves silly movies. Unfortunately, since I have three boys, we have a hard time agreeing on what is silly and what is stupid. The boys love . . . welll . . . boy humor. You know, lots of body noises and ridiculous stuff, falling down, getting hurt. I can only take so much of that. But Night at the Museum, starring Ben Stiller satisfied us all. Stiller is one I can usually only take so much of before he starts getting on my nerves, but this role was perfect for him. As a divorced dad who aspires to do something great he instead finds constant failure. Because this results in steady unemployment and frequent evictions, the most recent eviction puts pressure on him to find a job or face temporary separation from his son. So he takes a job as a night security guard at a museum, not realizing that there is something magical afoot. The first night at the museum is full of surprises and the movie is about how he comes up with ways to manage the zany events that occur nightly. The film is graced with cameo appearances by Robin Williams, Dick VanDyke, Mickey Rooney, and Bill Cobbs, whose combined comic genius absolutely makes the film in my opinion.

The boys loved the silly stuff--dinosaur chases, teeny little guys fighting each other and the "giant" (Stiller), talking statues, and more. I liked the message that eventually you have to just grow up, especially when you have someone you love depending on you to provide stability and security for them. However, I also liked the idea that "growing up" and being responsible doesn't always mean leaving your dreams behind. I was a little uncomfortable with the image that divorce can result in a happy, satisfying life for everyone, becuase I just don't think that's so. There is also some potty humor which the boys love, but which still bothers me some. But nothing in it made me so uncomfortable as to cause me to question my judgement in letting the boys watch it. All in all, the film is accurately rated PG, making it a great family film if you like something a bit silly, but still exciting.

For a more detailed review, I recommend you check out PluggedIn Online.

A Five Year Anniversary

Five years ago, this day started just like any other. I got the boys up, fed them, and we did school or went to co-op since it was a Friday. We had lunch, took naps, played and watched TV. I fixed dinner, gave them baths, then put them to bed. One thing that was a little different, was that I helped Josh pack to go on a Scout camping trip with Gaga, and they left that afternoon. Other than that, it seemed a normal day. I had no idea of the arrow that was about to shatter my life.

My husband didn’t come home that night. It wasn’t unusual for him to be out late, because as a deputy sheriff he often worked overtime, but it was unusual for him to not come home at all. I vaguely remember waking very early in the morning and realizing he wasn’t home. I probably tried to page him and call his cell. I don’t even remember now if I actually talked to him, or worried about his safety the rest of the early morning. He finally came home the next day, and after loving on our two littlest boys, he told me he needed to talk to me.

Strange the things you remember about tragedy. I remember him commenting on the holes in my socks, and telling me I really needed to get some new ones. Then he told me he was moving out. Leaving. He was confused, he said; didn’t know what he wanted; didn’t know if he wanted to be married any longer. His “confusion” went on for a couple of weeks, as I sat confused about where he was during that time, and about what had gone wrong. He had been very distant for about six months, but nothing that indicated a real problem. I had asked him repeatedly if there was anything wrong, but he had said it was just problems at work, and I had no reason to suspect anything else.

The truth was, he had gotten involved with someone else and was moving in with her. No one—his friends, his co-workers, his family—believed it initially when I told them. He “was not the kind of guy who did that.” I remember from that February 16th, and from the weeks after, the tight knot in my stomach that kept me from eating for three solid months (an effective diet, but not one I recommend!). I remember night after night fighting off images of him and her together and crying until I had no more tears to cry. I remember having to keep music running all through the night so I could sleep at all, and then waking up from fitful sleep to cry some more and to fall on the floor and pray. I remember wallowing in the Psalms, crying through them and praying them to God. Life was a fog—I went from one thing to another without any real awareness of what was going on.

I also remember God’s faithfulness. He put so many people in my life—women who called me, listened to me, cried with me. He put very wise pastors in my life to direct my decisions, but who also listened to me and evaluated my choices not based on their own opinions as fathers and husbands and men, but on God’s Word. They gave me the blessing to do some very risky things as I prayed and hoped God would turn my wayward husband around. He gave me a Christian lawyer who helped me understand all the options, and tried to help me protect myself, and preserve my marriage at the same time. I remember nights when God did nothing but whisper to me in the sad darkness, and move in close enough that I could almost feel Him there. I’ve not felt Him like that since. I remember how God helped my father to care for the boys, and how He enabled us to get our school done in spite of my distracted and distraught condition.

I have been through many sad and difficult things. I’ve nearly lost my life and a baby in childbirth. My mother and father both died at different times unexpectedly at home. But the worst thing I have been through was being abandoned . . . cast away . . . by my dear husband. It happened five years ago tomorrow, but the pain and scars are still there today. They are not as visible as they were initially, or in past years, but they still hurt and make life hard. I’m not sure I will ever recover from them, but I’m not sure I want to either.

Going through my separation and divorce changed my life forever. I will never be the same. At times, I am aware that I am searching—that I am on a quest to find that one thing that can relieve the pain and remove the scars. I have never found it, nor will I. But then I have moments of clarity, and I can almost glimpse how God might use this, and I even experience a touch of excitement to see how He will redeem my tears. One of the things I have prayed is that God would never let me forget that experience. As confusing and disappointing and painful as that experience was, I have discovered since then how much more pain and suffering exists in the world than I ever realized. Oh, I knew there were bad things out there, but they always happened to someone else. Little did I know they were happening all around me, to people just like me. I want to be used to relieve a little of the suffering of others. I want God to always keep me aware of the suffering of others, and I always want to have the inconvenience of being called upon to seek ways to help those experiencing it.

Five years ago my life changed forever. And God used it to change me and make me fit for His service.

Back . . . By Popular Demand.

No, I'm not talking about Lost. Which by the way, those of us who do NOT have TV can watch online for free the day after the show airs. No, no. I do NOT have a problem with Lost . . . um . . . I'm just watching it so I can keep up with what is popular in the world. You know, so I am able to understand conversations with friends who watch it . . . and the blogs of pastor-friends of mine who watch it . . . and well, OK. I watch it 'cause I like it. But I could give it up anytime. I could!


Enough of Lost. I received a request today to post something from my number one fan (you know, the one person who actually reads my blog). So here it is:

We have discovered that our dog loves DumDum lollipops. This in addition to her pleadings for popcorn and carrots. (Yeah, weird, I know.) If we're sitting and having popcorn, or if we have carrots for lunch, she hovers around us to try to get some. I think she has been stealing DumDums for a long time, finding them dropped on the ground, and taking them to her crate to nibble on in secret. But now it's out. Figures in this family that even the dog has a sugar problem. I'll probably be the only one trying to explain to the vet why I have a diabetic dog. Sorry, but I think DumDums are cheaper than dog treats. And my dog likes them better.

Encouragement for My Cousin

How lovely is your dwelling place,

O Lord Almighty!
My soul yearns, even faints,

for the courts of the Lord;

my heart and my flesh cry out
for the living God.

Even the sparrow has found a home,
and the swallow a nest for herself,

where she may have her young--

a place near your altar,

O Lord Almighty, my King and my God.

Psalm 84:1-3

Dear Lauren,


It was such a delight Christmas day to spend time with you. Your new baby is so sweet. As you told me how hard it has been, having three very young children . . . how very overwhelmed you feel, it brought back memories of what that was like. I was fortunate that mine were spaced a little farther apart, but at the same time, it was still exhausting. One of my dear friends has told me that as our children grow we go from a stage of physical exhaustion to more of a mental/emotional exhaustion. With my oldest nearing his teen years, I can already see how true this bit of wisdom is. What will I do? I still have kids in the physically exhausting phase too! But this is not about me; I was reminded of a piece of wisdom I gleaned early on when my children were small, and I wanted to share it with you.


I read the above verse in a book that I loved when my children were smaller. It seemed then that no matter how hard I tried, "quiet time" never was. Not only did it very rarely happen, but even when it did it seemed someone always got up early, was sick, or decided not to sleep at night. The very thing I most needed to survive--God's quiet, strengthening presence--seemed to constantly evade me. Didn't He want to be with me? Why couldn't He just make them sleep?


In the book Meditations for Mothers by Elisa Morgan I read this:

The psalmist envies the birds who nest daily in the temple and therefore enjoy a daily presence in God's dwelling . . . . Mothers are among today's faint of heart who long for time with God.

This book is about taking a tip from the swallow in the psalm. She
built her nest in a place near God's altar. She lived where God lived. We
moms who long for God don't have to go somewhere special to find him. We can
speend time with God when we build a nest near him and then enjoy everyday moments in it with him.

Lauren, what I have learned is that to survive these years, when you most need God's infusion of patience and sacrificial love, you needn't have lots of regular time away from the kids with him. Instead, build your home life around Him. There have been many days (so many!) that I missed my personal quiet time, but because the kids and I were in a habit of reading together from His Word, I was fed as I fed them. As I prayed with them, I drew close to Him and they learned to pray from me. I have learned how to better disciple someone through discipling my children as we lived life together.

That's not to say you should give up on your personal time with Him, just don't get discouraged or frustrated when it frequently doesn't happen. He can make you aware of His presence, teach you, and allow you to enjoy His company in lots of ways if you make Him part of your daily routines with the kids. Sing praise music as you feed and rock the baby. Read Bible stories in the morning to the little ones (read directly from the Bible--you'll be amazed how much they can get!). Memorize verses or a catechism or confession with them. (We used the Westminster Confession of Faith-Children's version.) Play LOTS of music as you go through your day and pray about everything from the quarrelling they are doing to the boo-boo they just got. Explain to them what you are doing when you meet someone else's needs, and as they get older, let them help come up with ways to care for others in need.

You are in a wonderful place to witness, disciple, and draw close to God. When I think of working outside my home, it is the freedom to spend time with Him at my whim that most makes me want to stay home. Although you feel completely inadequate for this job of mothering, please know that it is in this very weakness that the Lord's strength shines through. Remember that "He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young." (Isaiah 40:11) He cares very much for your work as wife and mommy, and wants you to do a great job with these little children He has given you. Beyond what you are able to do physically or otherwise, He will personally teach, lead, love, correct, and nurture them.

Take heart my cousin! I have watched Him faithfully keep all His promises to me. He has given me a hard life, but it has been an amazing life too! I know that He will do the same for you. You know that I am here anytime you need me, even if you just need a cheerleader. I love you!

Lisa

From Our House to Yours . . .

. . . we wish you a Merry Christmas. We are having another "white Christmas" Florida-style. (See this post for my description of last year's white Christmas.) I'm a little nervous tonight about leaving the outside lights on with all the wet, drippy snow (rain). The temperature is supposed to get up to a chilly 71 degrees. And it'll be rainy, so it will feel much hotter. I'm sweating already! (Maybe it's the fleece pj's the kids got me!) Of course, it'll be cold the day after Christmas. (OK, 60 degrees, but to us, that's cold!) Ah, well . . . at least there's the snow. (I'm turning green thinking of those of you in snowy places up north right now!)

Each year, it astonishes me that as I read the Christmas story yet again, I see something new. It is truly evidence that the Word of God is alive and relavent. It always moves me to spend time thanking God for the rich blessing of His only Son who took on flesh to become a living sacrifice for me (and you too!). The cost of this sacrifice is beyond my comprehension. I can't imagine choosing to live outside my middle class American suburb for longer than a few years (with furloughs to bring me home), much less leaving the glory of heaven and leaving behind the glory of being God to live 33 years with mostly ungrateful mere humans. Without forgetting this incredible gift, every year I ask God to make me aware of other little gifts that He gives to me. Since I don't have parents or a husband to spoil me, I turn to God to be better than either of those, and to show me the richness of His gifts.

This year I planned our Advent season well, but failed to follow through with my plan. I got lost in the trip to South Carolina that the younger boys and I took, in enjoying my time off from school a little too much, and in the busy-but-unproductive activities of the season. I neglected my First Love. But in His sweetness, He used some hard things this last week to draw me back to Himself. In an e-mail newsletter yesterday He reminded me that He is Prince of Peace. He came to restore peace between God and man, between man and man, and within each man. He came to restore peace in my soul. Today, the noise and clamor that I have felt for weeks now inside are gone, and as I surrender again to the Prince of Peace, I find peace. What a great gift!

So it is in the rememberance of this lesson that I wish you peace this Christmas. If you do not know what it is like to belong to the one, true Living God, and to enjoy a friendship with Him that brings hope and peace, I invite you to read the book of John in the Bible and to decide who this Jesus is. If you are one who believes that He is the Son of God, but you are feeling discouraged, hopeless, or like a failure, I urge you to ask Him to make Himself real to you and to draw you back into His love. I have yet to see Him not answer this prayer for me, and I love the fact that we celebrate the remembering of Christ's coming just before He gives us a fresh new start in the new year. With Him there are always new beginnings, and over time there is always productive change. May you and your family delight in Him this Christmas, and I am praying that He blessses you beyond your wildest dreams!