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My almost nine year old daughter asked me this tonight. It is true. I am crying a lot. I've been crying for about three months or so, trying to shake what it is that is making me so sad.

It has to be more than the house, because the truth of the matter is that my husband's business has been so successful over the past few months that a complete house is very doable this year. I am thankful for that, but it is not the source of my sadness.

I may be crying because of my never ending responsibilities. I am entirely disappointed that I am not, as I once referred to myself in a previous entry, SUPER MOM! I thought I was stronger than this. I thought that I could handle five little kids in a small space, but for some reason I can't.

I could be crying because winter is still with us. June flowers seem light years away.

I may be crying because I just re-read "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood" and I was stricken again that my childhood pain will be imparted to my children and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I threw the book down in anger, horrified that I am too aloof, moody and wounded to be of any help to my kids. I'm sad that my husband has to go for a conference for four days. I'm sad that I haven't exercised recently and I can't seem to find time to. I'm sad that I turned 39 on St. Patrick's Day and there was far less ceremony that I would have liked. I'm sad that I might be facing perimenopause and I don't know how to handle it. I'm sad that I've actually entertained a the few self-destructive thoughts. I'm sadder that I'm so ashamed of it. I'm sad that all I seem to do around here is wash dishes. I'm sad that I really need a haircut and I don't know where the money for one will come. I'm just sad.

In my sadness, I've been doing a little thinking. The truth of it is: I don't trust God and I don't trust my husband.

The Holy Spirit brought it to my attention that my parents really injured me by never giving me an allowance or blessing me after I worked for them. Every chore, every responsibility, every service (and there were a LOT of them) was done with a spirit of grim duty. For example: for many years on Saturdays, my brother and I helped clean our church building, since my Dad was the custodian. We were never paid or thanked. (He was.) We were even rarely given breakfast before we left (maybe a donut) and lunch was for complainers and dinner was given to us in resentment. This abuse is haunting me now, because I believe God is a horrible taskmaster, making me endure this endless job of getting pregnant, raising children, cooking, cleaning and submitting and being cheerful as a grim duty, done because it is required of me. (Part of me believes that I'll get pregnant this spring, because God wants to make me miserable.) Well, no wonder I'm depressed! I've given up all hope of a reward!

Added to this, I'm so afraid of being covetous, of even the simplest things like a full set of flatware, that I've been sucking it up all in the name of contentment. So I have this inner conflict of wanting more, yet hating myself for not being thankful. I could go crazy thinking like this.

Well this is the good news: GOD REWARDS THE FAITHFUL! Look at this:

From 2 Tim 2 :6The hardworking farmer should be the first to receive a share of the crops. 7Reflect on what I am saying, for the Lord will give you insight into all this.

And:  11Here is a trustworthy saying:    If we died with him,       we will also live with him;  12if we endure,       we will also reign with him.    If we disown him,       he will also disown us;  13if we are faithless,       he will remain faithful,       for he cannot disown himself.

And Matthew 5:

"Blessed are the poor in spirit,       for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  4Blessed are those who mourn,       for they will be comforted.  5Blessed are the meek,       for they will inherit the earth.  6Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,       for they will be filled.  7Blessed are the merciful,       for they will be shown mercy.  8Blessed are the pure in heart,       for they will see God.  9Blessed are the peacemakers,       for they will be called sons of God.  10Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,       for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

God is all about rewarding us generously!

Wow! He has blessings for me! I've started asking specifically for his rewards. What do you have for me today, Father? My faith in him is greater than my emotional state. Nothing, no sadness, can ever snatch me from his hand.

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My almost nine year old daughter asked me this tonight. It is true. I am crying a lot. I've been crying for about three months or so, trying to shake what it is that is making me so sad.

It has to be more than the house, because the truth of the matter is that my husband's business has been so successful over the past few months that a complete house is very doable this year. I am thankful for that, but it is not the source of my sadness.

I may be crying because of my never ending responsibilities. I am entirely disappointed that I am not, as I once referred to myself in a previous entry, SUPER MOM! I thought I was stronger than this. I thought that I could handle five little kids in a small space, but for some reason I can't.

I could be crying because winter is still with us. June flowers seem light years away.

I may be crying because I just re-read "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood" and I was stricken again that my childhood pain will be imparted to my children and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I threw the book down in anger, horrified that I am too aloof, moody and wounded to be of any help to my kids. I'm sad that my husband has to go for a conference for four days. I'm sad that I haven't exercised recently and I can't seem to find time to. I'm sad that I turned 39 on St. Patrick's Day and there was far less ceremony that I would have liked. I'm sad that I might be facing perimenopause and I don't know how to handle it. I'm sad that I've actually entertained a the few self-destructive thoughts. I'm sadder that I'm so ashamed of it. I'm sad that all I seem to do around here is wash dishes. I'm sad that I really need a haircut and I don't know where the money for one will come. I'm just sad.

In my sadness, I've been doing a little thinking. The truth of it is: I don't trust God and I don't trust my husband.

The Holy Spirit brought it to my attention that my parents really injured me by never giving me an allowance or blessing me after I worked for them. Every chore, every responsibility, every service (and there were a LOT of them) was done with a spirit of grim duty. For example: for many years on Saturdays, my brother and I helped clean our church building, since my Dad was the custodian. We were never paid or thanked. (He was.) We were even rarely given breakfast before we left (maybe a donut) and lunch was for complainers and dinner was given to us in resentment. This abuse is haunting me now, because I believe God is a horrible taskmaster, making me endure this endless job of getting pregnant, raising children, cooking, cleaning and submitting and being cheerful as a grim duty, done because it is required of me. (Part of me believes that I'll get pregnant this spring, because God wants to make me miserable.) Well, no wonder I'm depressed! I've given up all hope of a reward!

Added to this, I'm so afraid of being covetous, of even the simplest things like a full set of flatware, that I've been sucking it up all in the name of contentment. So I have this inner conflict of wanting more, yet hating myself for not being thankful. I could go crazy thinking like this.

Well this is the good news: GOD REWARDS THE FAITHFUL! Look at this:

From 2 Tim 2 :6The hardworking farmer should be the first to receive a share of the crops. 7Reflect on what I am saying, for the Lord will give you insight into all this.

And:  11Here is a trustworthy saying:    If we died with him,       we will also live with him;  12if we endure,       we will also reign with him.    If we disown him,       he will also disown us;  13if we are faithless,       he will remain faithful,       for he cannot disown himself.

And Matthew 5:

"Blessed are the poor in spirit,       for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  4Blessed are those who mourn,       for they will be comforted.  5Blessed are the meek,       for they will inherit the earth.  6Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,       for they will be filled.  7Blessed are the merciful,       for they will be shown mercy.  8Blessed are the pure in heart,       for they will see God.  9Blessed are the peacemakers,       for they will be called sons of God.  10Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,       for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

God is all about rewarding us generously!

Wow! He has blessings for me! I've started asking specifically for his rewards. What do you have for me today, Father? My faith in him is greater than my emotional state. Nothing, no sadness, can ever snatch me from his hand.

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I went up to the second and third floor today with my husband. The Home Depot guys came last Friday and and installed seven new windows. They are gorgeous and we are so thankful for them. We were up there to admire them and to discuss what needed to be done next.

Don't get too excited. The next thing we need to do is clear the clutter. Over the past 6 years the upstairs has become our storage rooms and glorified trash cans. It feels good to know that we have to do some work up there at last. It also feels bad.

Sometimes I don't know what to feel. I've waited so very long for my house to be finished. I see in my journey that God has changed me and carried me. Should my hope be revived that we'll be upstairs soon, or should I cry out for Grace to carry me through the unknown. Again. For the one hundredth time today.

There have been four or five points over the last six years that my husband and calculated, "Oh, it should only take another six months or so." Those words are usually preceded by a financial disaster and/or another high risk pregnancy. We're in between both right now. So you can understand my hesitation.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about the confusion over "Prosperity Gospel" and where my desires for a few more square feet fall into that. Also have I made grave errors in asking God for a dishwasher?

I don't really want any comments on these questions to go into a theological debate. I'm just blabbering due to my walk upstairs today and my very weary heart's cry. Again, I ask, whether it is right or wrong to, when, Lord Jesus, will my house be finished?

I do know in my head, if not quite in my heart, that the grace of God is more valuable that space. That these days are precious, that my children are different, in a good way, because they have few toys, small beds and have to pick up after themselves, and that I am so dependent on God's goodness to carry me through.

One more thought. Last Sunday at church, a woman who can be accurately called an acquaintance, turned to me and said, "You should see the movie . . Blah, Blah.. It is SO GOOD! You would love it." I didn't respond in the Spirit. I said, "I haven't been to the movies in four years." I think that's accurate. My husband and I last saw "The Incredibles."

I got to thinking about this innocent comment my acquaintance made and the more I thought, the madder I got. (Now I was clearly slipping into the flesh!) This lady is married but has no children by choice. She spends her time either pursuing her career or entertaining herself. She lives for no one but her SELF! No! I don't go to movies because I HAVE FIVE CHILDREN! I don't go to the movies because I CAN'T AFFORD A BABYSITTER! I don't go to the movies because they are foolish, temporal, puffed up nonsense that contributes nothing to the purpose I have of raising a generation of godly children. I don't go to the movies because that would be selfish. I don't go to the movies because 90%of my day is serving others, not myself.

Okay, now I'm moving past the flesh and wallowing into self-pity. I went home from church into my little, tiny living space to find a place to pout. I can't even pout in my bedroom because I don't have a bedroom. I have to cry out (again) that God gives me even more grace, when those ten little hands reach out to me, when those five little mouths are all talking at once, wanting my full attention, when everybody spills their juice at the same time and the baby is playing in the toilet.

Having more square footage will really only change me a little. I'm still a sinner. Perhaps my question should be "When, Lord Jesus, will I finally be like you?"

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I think I am a super mom. Most of the time. I'm generally organized, generally contented, generally happy and enthusiastic. I REALLY like it when my mental and emotional condition (and physical one too) allows me to accomplish great things in a day. I like ticking off the checklist for housework and homeschooling. I love doing it with a spring in my step and a smile in my face. I go to bed those nights very pleased with myself and sure that this whole stay-at-home Mom gig is not that hard, nor that stressful.

But then there are the other days. The days that begin with a sinus headache, a sleepless night, cranky children, and a home that is more like a perpetual mess machine that saps every bit of patience and confidence from me. On those days, I have no choice, my Super Mom Super Powers are weak (perhaps a laundry pile over two feet tall is like Kryptonite?) so I do what I must. I pray. I call out to God with every breath that he sustain me, that he get me through the next spill, the next correction of a child, the next meal.

It just occured to me this week that God is far more pleased with me on my bad days than my good. But how could this be since I accomplish so much on my good days, on my Super Mom days? Those bad days are pretty worthless. Except for my clinging to God part. Oh. Now I get it.

If I have a good day, it is because God has given it to me. If I have joy, enthusiasm, energy, contentment and a spill-free day, it's because God has blessed me with it. If I have the worst day in my life, it's His Power that will sustain me.

I am absolutely nothing without God in my life. This truth makes me humble, thankful and filled with praise.

Super Mom? No.

Super God!

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What started with a bang may be ending with fizzle. It's hard to keep this blog up to date with five kids, homeschooling, a broken dishwasher, winter and life consuming my energies. I'm trying to decide if I should sporadically post or stop altogether. Spunky Homeschool's conclusion really touched a nerve with me and I know that God is starting up other very worthwhile things in my life. Pray for me that I clearly know what to do.

But until I do shut the doors, I want to share with you the biggest thing I've been doing over the last year to save space: I've been losing weight. I've lost over 50 pounds in the last 12 months and I have a ways yet to go. This saves space because my smaller clothes take up less room and my family doesn't have to squeeze around my belly. My system is eating sensibly, few second helpings, no desserts and strenuous exercising at least three times a week. I have a treadmill and weight set in the basement that I consider my silent partners in health and in worship since my exercise time is often my devotions time.

My goal for 2007 is go acheive my goal weight (150 pounds) and to write the first draft of a novel. Both goals are life long dreams and I would solicit prayer for endurance and focus on each of them. I turn 40 in 2008 and I would love to start this season of life with those two things behind me!

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I've had a few interruptions over the last few weeks. But now I'm back.

I'm a bit blue due to a disorganized, no hot water, toilet training, oversleeping, DH-is-going-out-of-town-type of morning. I'm hoping that writing a few lines will be therapeutic.

Our Christmas was very sweet and I enjoyed everything about it. I am keenly aware of the privilege it is to serve my family during this season because of the three Decembers I spent on the couch, suffering from a high risk pregnancy. Now I delight in the baking, shopping, decorating stress of it. It was a beautiful time for us.

The highlight was in the mail on December 23. My husband walked into the kitchen with an open envelope in his hand. His face was frozen in disbelief. He slowly said, "Oh . . . My . . . Goodness!" In the envelope was a gift card to Home Dept worth $3000! The donor left only this message: "God bless you on your home improvement project. Matthew 6." We were astounded. We looked up the passage and read it aloud as a family, asking our older children what this meant. I asked our oldest what she could make of it and she said, "You were faithful so God blessed us."I started to cry. We shared our story with my in-law family Christmas Eve and they were rejoicing with us. It was a Merry Christmas indeed!

Yesterday, Monday, my husband had a sales rep from Home Depot come by for an estimate. The young man was probably in his early '30's, tall and friendly.

I joined the two of them in the future school room and joked, "Now, we've been waiting for you for about seven years." He said, "I hear you're the homeschooling Mom of five?"

"Yes," I said, "This is kind of a walk of faith for us. Did my husband tell you we were given $3000?" "So, you must be a born again Christian? Christians are the only people I know of that have stuff like that happen to them. I am too. I figured you were with the homeschooling and the five kids and all." He asked to hear more of our story and we gladly told him.

As he finalized his estimate for the work, he said, "Now, I want to throw out my commission. I'm encouraged by your story. It inspires me to walk in faith too!" We were shocked. His commission would have been around $200!

We were so blessed by him and his generosity that we invited him to dinner and he accepted. (Poor thing, didn't have a wife to make him a loving meal.)

After he left, my husband and I marvelled that God worked so hard to orchestrate this meeting between us and this salesman. We are confident that he has blessing after blessing lined up for us this year, some that will be even more impressive than that. So now, the plan is that we will have the next phase of our house completed in six weeks or so. We haven't the funds to do the next thing, but we've concluded that this gift card was our daily bread, our manna.

God will provide for the next step as he sees fit.

Ooooo! I can't wait!

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What a week it's been! But God's grace has been all over me. I never did burst into tears -- which is quite unlike me, and I never did feel intensely sorry for myself, which is also unlike me. I got through it. I have a new-to-me dryer now and I'm getting caught up and I owe it to the hard work of my husband and God's mercy on me.

Last night, my husband found a dryer for sale about 40 miles away. He took my oldest son (nearly 5) with him. (The quote of the night was this: "Corbin, hurry and eat or you'll miss the fun with Daddy," "This is not fun, Mommy. This is serious business!") The dryer was installed and running by 10:00 p.m. last night.

This morning, I knew that school for my children was out of the question. I also decided that when nearly every drawer and closet is empty, now is the time to purge unwanted clothing.

It was in the middle of this purge project this morning that we lost our power. Lights out, computer down, washer and dryer stopped. I assumed that it was a neighborhood issue and surely it would be on in a moment. I also thought that I had plenty to do, even without power and I would certainly stay busy. (Although the children were a bit panicky -- even though we had enough sunlight to see--what wimps they are!) I did wonder if my good cry would come if this outage was longer than a few minutes and my laundry mountain would stay as it was yet another day.

I assumed correctly. It was on in twenty minutes.

My next problem is keeping the crowd happy and helpful while I fold and put away. I'm sure there are a few moms out there who would be shocked at how little I make my children work and a few more who would be shocked at how much I make them work. The girls purged their dresser drawers and re-organized them. They matched outfits and hung them in the closet and put away a few stacks like Daddy's socks and the kitchen towels. Corbin moved hampers and baskets around, gathered hangers and put away a few things too. Perrin, age 2, jumped up and down and sang Christmas songs. Baby Veronica was napping.

At one point, I had enough of their "help" and sent them to the living room to watch videos. Once one was over, they would ask for another one and I would give them a chore to do--tidy the bookshelf, pick up the floor, etc --before the next one began. I probably relied on media a little much today, but to be quite honest, this small space experiment isn't all about self-denial and inner discipline; it's also about crowd control and minimizing messes.

In between loads, I washed the dishes and sometime today I'd like to mop the kitchen floor.

I still haven't showered and I'm a little grumpy from my physical issues, but I do have a dryer and tonight is date night. It's also December 1st and 60 degrees here! I don't have anything to complain about.

But then, I never did.

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I suppose I'd be a lot braver if I weren't suffering from a monthly female malady, but I'm facing a challenge today. Not only is my dishwasher completely out of commission, but now my dryer is completely out too. We have at least ten loads of laundry piled up in in various places around our tiny house. Both appliances need to be replaced and there is no money to purchase new ones. We also have a few more urgent needs too.

In my flesh, today is a good day to cry. All day long.< /P> But I have to find ways to solve my problems and get through it, and put homeschooling on the back burner while I do it. My success only comes from the grace of God to keep me cheerful and hopeful. He sees my need. He will sustain me.

From Habakkuk 3:

17 Though the fig tree does not bud

and there are no grapes on the vines,

though the olive crop fails

and the fields produce no food,

though there are no sheep in the pen

and no cattle in the stalls,

18 yet I will rejoice in the LORD,

I will be joyful in God my Savior.

19 The Sovereign LORD is my strength;

he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,

he enables me to go on the heights.

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The only consistent tradition we have in December is bedrest for a very pregnant Mommy. So this year, since we are in the off season, I want to put a little more thought into celebrations and add meaning to our Holidays.

Also, my background is pretty anti-liturgical and I don't many heirloom type holiday traditions to cling to. In fact, it was only recently that I actually figured out what an Advent wreath and candles were for. I owe this discovery to my friend, Billie, the theology professor, homeschooling Mom and Echeumenical (sp?) Christian.

That being said, I am pretty excited and pleased with myself about our Jesse Tree (http://www.kingofpeace.org/advent/advent.htm) Which, since we are spatially challenged, is a Jesse Doorframe around the bedroom that three of my children sleep in. Using my Appleworks drawing program, I created 25 nice 4"X4" squares with borders and typed in it the name and reference of each person in the tree, for example, the first one is "Adam, Genesis 2". We cut these squares out and taped them around the door; nine up, seven across, nine down. The last one on the bottom right is Jesus, all in purple and gold instead of black and white. Daily, starting December 1, one of my children will take down the square, draw a picture representing that person (Adam is a man, Jesus has a manger and a cross) and then must look up the Scripture reference given, reading it to the family. We'll do one a day until Christmas day. This is participatory, more spiritually nourishing than those calendars that have chocolates inside, and takes up NO SPACE! I can't wait!

Additionally, I have my very first ever advent wreath on the table! Yesterday, I took the big girls to JoAnn fabric to find something that would do for an advent wreath. This store has every Christmas decoration imaginable, some tasteful and some not-so-much, yet no Advent wreath. Umm . . .okay . . I guess I'll do something ELSE I've never done before. I bought a styrofoam ring, a very long strand of fake greenery, four candles (No pink and purple anywhere! We got white instead.) and some very festive shimmery snowflake garland. I told the girls wer would go home and MAKE our wreath. All the components cost $10.41 including tax!!!!

I've always dreamed of this! Going into a craft store and buying stuff and planning with girls . . . . .: ) But I digress,

We brought it home and we, I mean I, had it together, on the table, ready for next Sunday, within 30 minutes. I added a few fake cranberries and pinecones that I had in our decorating bins My husband, who has a critical eye (and uses this power for both good and evil), said that it looked gorgeous! I am pleased too. Now all I need to add are four choruses about Christmas that we will learn up through the fourth week.

Maybe I should call Billie.

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I don't know if I can accurately call myself a sentimentalist, since I've been known to throw away artwork that my children have created. and I haven't peeked at my baby books since 2000 (I know, BAD MOMMY!). I'm also generally wary of syrupy statements that mean little during times of reflection, I'd rather hunt for the sincere, not just go through the motions. Even though it is tempting to do so on a day like Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is not just a holiday. It is a spiritual position, one that should resemble falling flat on our faces in gratitude for what one has. If I were to take that position this week, and I certainly should, I would have so many things to thank God for that I wouldn't be able to reduce it to the kind of insincere statement which often opens our Thanksgiving table at my sister-in-law's house.

Call me a cynic, but the bearer of the question, "What are you thankful for, Auntie Thalia?" rarely really wants an answer longer than "My family."

This morning I was not thankful. I spent my morning in a funk, losing my temper, and believing that if I put my fist through a wall, I'd feel better. I had nothing to be angry about, I was just angry. I secluded myself in our front hall, with the door between the hall and kitchen closed so that I could weep, encourage myself in silence and get my act together before I lost control with the children.

I think I was angry because I was feeling sorry for myself, or maybe I was feeling sorry for myself because I was angry. Either way, I wasn't on my face in humble gratefulness.

But I got my gentle correction this afternoon while I was reading with my daughters, the "Kit, American Girl" series and wept again. This time, over hardship of a fictional character. Hardship that is similar to what we have faced over the last few years.

Now this is where I did get on my face, if not literally, certainly figuatively. Oh, if it had not been for the grace of God on my family, we most certainly would have been destitute this year. For the fact that we have a roof over our head, adequate food, adequate clothing, remarkable health (especially mine) I am overwhelmingly grateful. I am thankful that my husband and I have a solid relationship and that we are committed to it with all our hearts. I am thankful that we have enough, again, to have a reasonable Christmas. I am thankful that we've had an unseasonably warm November, to keep the blues of winter away from me. I am thankful that my children are learning to be content and thankful. I am thankful that I am seeing healing in some relationships. I am thankful that God is always on his throne. He sees me and he hears my prayers and he had a beautiful plan for my family.

I don't want to get off my face and stop this very simple, but sincere answer to that ubiquitous question, but I have to make dinner.

Happy Thanksgiving!

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In our basement, we've put up a folding table so that the girls, ages 8 and 7, have a place to create. Ariel, the oldest, has naturally pushed her sister over and reduced Miranda off the table and onto a box.

Miranda never complained and set up her little pencil cup, her little decorations and her little chair. But after a few weeks of this, she confessed to me. She really didn't like the arrangement and she wanted her own desk.

I took her request seriously and looked around both the downstairs and the up for a little space, a corner, something that I could give her as her own. I asked my husband and neither of us could come up with a place.

I never told her this was impossible. I just told her to give me some time, a solution would come from somewhere.

A few days later, she came to me again. She said this time, "Mommy, if get a new desk, it would be nice, I guess. But I would really miss my box."

I nearly cried. I hugged her and told her that she had learned an important lesson, the one of contentment. I told her that a contented heart will serve her well the rest of her life.

Last weekend, without my knowledge, my sister-in-law was cleaning out her garage and asked my mother-in-law if we could use a little white table, with the Jenny Lind style legs and a matching white chair.

My sweet MIL piped right up and said, "Miranda is using a box for a desk!" Grammy brought it to us and showed a very delighted Miranda.

"God knew the desires of you heart, Miranda! You were blessed for your good attitude!" Amid the tears of joy, she agreed.

God sees us. He knows our hearts. He blesses his children.

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This morning, my 4 year old son, Corbin was finished eating his breakfast. His 8 year old sister, Ariel was still at the table, eating hers. He was instructed to get his clothes and go change. Now, we eat in his bedroom, or rather, his bed is in the dining room, so he has to make do with privacy by stepping about eight feet away from the table, ducking behind the wall out of sight and changing his clothes there.

He's little. He can get away with it.

This morning, after removing his pajama top and pants, he removed his underwear. Instead of just placing it on the ground, he did a very 4 year old boy thing: the swung it around in the air and released it. It took flight from his hands and handed on the table touching Ariel's breakfast.

To make matters worse, this particular pair was NOT a shining example of hygenic toileting practices.

His sister FREAKED OUT!

She yelled at him, picked up the guilty underwear with two fingers and flung it back at him, crying in hysterics.

Neither of said child's parents were in the vicinity. We were getting ready for the day. I went in to find out what the hubbub was about, assuming that Ariel was over-reacting, as is her habit when her brother is involved. But because the underwear may have touched her food AND it was soiled, the situation became more serious.

We communicated the details of the crime to Dad, who was in the bathroom.

He said, very firmly, "Send him to ME!"

"Uh," I stuttered. "He's naked!"

"Then I'll come to him!"

Dad picked up our preferred instrument of foolishness removal and applied it appropriately. We also replaced Ariel's entire breakfast and disinfected the table, just to be safe. She ate sullenly at the other end and justifiably avoided Corbin for an hour or so.

When I get my 3000 square foot house, will I miss moments like this?

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My pastor is spending several weeks studying the life of Joseph. His main point on Sunday was that God gives us dreams in order to fulfill them. There is a time and a place for refinement and perseverence, but in the end, God's plan, His success, always comes to pass. We need to believe this.

Well, obviously, this could apply to my housing situation. I started thinking about my dreams and how my honest desires aren't just to endure, but to live in abundance. I don't just want a bedroom, I want my own office and a formal living room (as opposed to a family room) and a dining room big enough to hold a dozen or more people. These are big dreams and I will be the first to admit that they might be creation of my own materialistic tendencies.

This morning, while on the treadmill, I was praying honestly before God and telling him that I don't know if what I want is right, but I want it anyway. I don't know what to do with this.

I felt like the Holy Spirit was pointing something out to me. He said that my strongest desire is not space --although I do need it -- it's solitude. I want a pretty living room so that I can read a book in peace. I want an office so that I can pursue my writing in a quiet place. I want a bedroom so that I can shut the door, paint my toenails, and essentially hide from my family.

The maginfied desire for solitude has such a strong hold on my life, that it is sinful. I acquired this as a result of my childhood. My parents were indifferent toward me and I was left to my own devices. I liked it. When I wasn't wallowing in lonliness and self-pity, I cherished my alone times and I could deal with solitude well. (Once as a high school junior, I spent a day at Walt Disney World's Epcot Center completely alone. I could have chosen a companion, but I didn't. I don't remember being sad about it. I remember being relieved.) Before I was married, I spent a period of about two years as a professional writer, living essentially alone, rarely leaving the house. The only bad thing about that to me was that I gained a lot of weight.

So here I am now, in 650 square feet with a husband and FIVE CHILDREN. This is not a place were my appetite for solitude can be satisfied. For the very first time in my life I realize that I've taken this desire way too far. Even though I am a toy truck's throw away from my children 24/7, my heart isn't with them. I'm still wrapped up in myself. I often eat in the kitchen while they eat at the table. They see me at my computer WAY too much. I lose my patience with them if they dare to creep out of bed after their 8:00 bedtime. I don't give to them selflessly, I give so that I can get to my alone time faster.

Oh, what a wretched mother that I am! The ONLY way that I am going to be like Jesus to my family is if He changes me. I can't change myself. It is no wonder that my living situation is what it is -- I've responded poorly to God's refining fire. He won't release me from it until I repent.

This week, when I get some time alone with my darling husband, I am going to confess this and ask for prayer. Any from you would be appreciated.

But forgive me if I don't blog right away, the Holy Spirit might say not now -- lay down your life for them instead.

This is one of the many lessons of Joseph's life: only in dying to ourselves in our circumstances that our dreams come true.

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In spite of this milestone, I'm experiencing a bit of dread. Winter is approaching and I'm not really looking forward to my life inside this tiny house. We have one more child than we did last year, so we have even less space. Everyone's grown a bit more too -- so the house is actually shrinking. I think I need prayer to not be discouraged with my situation.

My older children are in need of bigger beds and there is no room for them. They have few toys as it is, and while they'll have plenty of new things for Christmas, all the new things must fit in a shoe box. (Or we throw out a bunch of old things).

I also have logistic problems. If I'm on the couch, trying in vain to nap and Perrin is in the girls' room trying to nap, that leaves only the kitchen and dining room for the older children to quietly entertain themselves. While they do have a little space in our basement for art projects, we have few options and it wears on me.

This waiting on God is exhausting. Every fall for the past five years I've thought that I might have a Holiday Season like normal people, perhaps with all my decorations out, with the pretty tableware, with room for guests. Every fall for the past five years, this dream has eluded me.

You know, it might never come to pass. Life is hard. We don't know what is around the next corner. I'm only a heart beat away from being a widow. I know someone who was 24 hours away from having their house foreclosed out from under them. They would have been homeless. My situation isn't that much different from them.

I guess if that bleak picture is true, then I shouldn't walk in what I don't have. Again. I need to be grateful for what I do have.

I have five healthy children. I have parents and in-laws who always make sure the children have plenty of toys. I have a husband who took it upon himself during "Baby Season" to do all of the cooking and cleaning for the holidays. I have strength and energy this year, enough to do stuff with my kids and make this Holiday great. .

I really can't sit in this pity party at the same time that I mark twenty years of faith. I've trusted God and his Divine Plan for me for a very long time. I can probably endure this winter (one in which a baby is not expected). I can ask him for grace and good ideas and my hearts desires. I can be cheerful. I can make Christmas more than my lowly, selfish expectations.

Please pray for me that I surrender gladly, that I enjoy this season and welcome a little Babe into this humble home.

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We have these great new friends, Hoyt and Billie. They have three children who fit in nicely in the age groups of ours. We decided that a meal together was much needed, so they came over for Sunday lunch.

Guests always pose problems around here since we have so little space. In fact, I think that this issue is the most difficult for me to get over, because I like people and I love hostessing. In my dream house, we have a table that seats at least ten and an eat-in kitchen for the spill-over.

With this event, besides praying for sun so that the kids could play outside, we set up a table in the living room for the kids and the adults, as well as the three littlest kids, get to eat at the dining room table (remember is in the room as all of our homeschool supplies and Corbin's window seat bed).

It isn't perfect, but it beats waiting until that dream house shows up with its table for ten. I'm a bit disappointed that we won't be able to have a crowd over for the holidays this year. I'm trying not to think about "what if it's next year" that our house is done. I'm trying to focus on the meaning of good friends and fellowship and holy days and do what I can with the things I have.

I've been invited to do a little writing for one of my favorite websites. When I get the article done and have it posted, I'll let everyone know.

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Psalm 16 mentions that "our boundary lines have fallen in pleasant places." I discovered this Psalm in college, almost 20 years ago and it struck me then, as it does today, that the things that confine me are good things.

My visitors are very imperfect people. They've hurt me deeply in the past and they're likely to hurt me again. They are not what I would have chosen. By having them in my life, I am restricted from functional, healthy relationships with them. There is a boundary there, something that I can't change at all.

Yet, it is a good thing. The pain that I've had due to them has drawn me to the arms of The Father. The healing that I've needed can only come from his hand. The changes wrought me, because of this imperfect boundary, glorify God daily. If there were no boundary, there would be nothing beautiful.

Such as it is in my home, so will it be in my family. God knows what he's doing. He put these boundary lines here for a reason.

Psalm 16

1 Keep me safe, O God, for in you I take refuge.

2 I said to the LORD, "You are my Lord; apart from you I have no good thing."

3 As for the saints who are in the land, they are the glorious ones in whom is all my delight.

4 The sorrows of those will increase who run after other gods. I will not pour out their libations of blood or take up their names on my lips.

5 LORD, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure.

6 The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.

7 I will praise the LORD, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me.

8 I have set the LORD always before me. Because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken.

9 Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body also will rest secure,

10 because you will not abandon me to the grave, nor will you let your Holy One see decay.

11 You have made known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.

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I am completely exhausted. Perhaps, when I have recovered, I'll post something interesting.

Have a good weekend!

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You never know.

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How long does it take me to clean my house?

Well, if I put all the children in the little bedroom at night, and I work only on the living room, dining room, kitchen and bathroom and if I clean by my standards, and not my husband, Mr. Clean's, standards, I can have a very tidy house in an hour.

If I do it by my DH's standards, it will take me considerably longer.

I consider this a huge blessing in the small space situation. Because I spend so little time cleaning and picking up, I am free to pursue my other interests. I'm a bit reluctant right now to expand my space, because that expands my responsibility. Even though I plan on teaching my children how to do housework, the idea of cleaning a 2000 square foot home is extremely daunting.

So this afternoon, I'm going to start (the children are all outside) and then after they're in bed, I'll turn on a movie (probably Pride and Prejudice -- I can hear it, if not see it from every room) and clean my house.

It will be an hour well spent.

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