Scribblings from a twenty-year homeschool veteran about homeschooling, life after homeschooling, occasional peeks into the world of writing for children, and the ups and downs of life in general.
I found the entire 45 minute message on a friends' blog, but here is an excerpt with pictures and music. I watched it, mesmerized, and I had no clue who this person was who was preaching. But the words rang true--if not more than a bit shocking. If this excerpt piques your interest, go to the HeartCry Missionary Society website to see the entire "shocking" message. Are you courageous enough to hear it and respond to the challenge? No matter what, you will never think the same again after hearing the full sermon: HeartCry Missionary Society website
As a young mother, I thought I watched my kids pretty well. My house was "safe" (well, except for the can of liquified, left-over food under the sink, since we didn't have a garbage disposal. My baby liked to sample it occasionally). How was I to know that an unexpected, frightening accident was lurking in my kitchen?
Gather round, all you unaware mothers... First: The catalyst of the disaster. A new ewe and her lamb. Our first livestock! She was tied up to the clothesline in the backyard; I checked her every half hour or so--just enjoying our plunge into Farm Life. Next: The Initiator of the disaster--the big sister, age 4. She had the idea, as hare-brained as it was... Lastly, the Victim of the disaster: Little brother, age 2, who began his career as a "risk taker" early in life. I left the kids in the house, eating their usual lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, for only a few short minutes, while I ran out back to check on the ewe and her lamb (wouldn't want the ol' girl to get tangled up in the picket line). I returned to the house to hear hysterical screams coming from my DD, who told me, "The oven fell on Chad!"
The oven?! Heart pounding, mouth dry, I rushed into the kitchen to find...well, I didn't know what to expect. But indeed, the oven was lying on its front side, and my little DS was trapped--wedged in the door--half in and half out! He was crying, and I leaped into action. With a strength I didn't know I had, I lifted the oven enough to get the weight off, and he crawled out. I was stunned. I couldn't understand how Chad had escaped with only a small, dark bruise in the center of his spine. His back should have been crushed when the oven slammed down on him. Then I saw that one of the oven racks, as the oven came down on him, had jammed, leaving a space wide enough to prevent the oven from slamming completely shut. I managed to lift the stove to its rightful position and asked the Question: "How did this happen?"
"We were pretending to be Hansel and Gretel," Kristel explained. "And I told Chad he could be the witch, and I would put him in the oven."
So...they opened the oven door; Chad climbed onto the open door. Kristel joined him on the door. Too much weight. The oven began to tip; Kristel said she felt it going over and jumped off in time. Chad didn't make it out in time; the oven tipped over, the rack thankfully jammed, and he was trapped.
The "What ifs?" bothered me for a long time. "What if the rack hadn't jammed at just the right place at the right time?" "What if he was killed?" "He should have been paralyzed, with a broken back." But, as Corrie ten Boom was fond of saying, "There are no 'ifs' in God's Kingdom." God was there; He knew; He protected my little one and taught me a valuable lesson: never leave little ones unattended--not even for a few minutes.
After that event, I let the dumb sheep fend for herself...
Shortcuts never work. I debated posting this, as I've written a few too many downer blogs the past few weeks. However, I feel you wonderful friends deserve to know about the down times as well as the up times, and how God has a very unique way of reaching each of us, that gets our attention in the very best possible way.
I should not have taken the Sparks Director job. I knew it when I realized I hadn't even prayed about it. Just plunge on--same as I always had for the past 10 years--and be faithful to the end. I would not let the others down; I would "finish the course."
Well, I finished the course all right, but not in the way I intended. First, understand that the traffic back-up from our little town to the community where AWANA is located is horrendous during the hours between 4:30 and 6:00 pm. There is one 2-lane bridge over the river. The drive, usually a 20 minute hop, slows down to a 40+ minute ordeal during those times--the worst being the 3-mile stretch on THIS side of the bridge. I could walk faster.
Last Wednesday, I decided to take DD's advice (this is NOT her fault by the way) and try the back way, which brings you out at a little intersection right next to the bridge. Understanding drivers going west always make holes for sad folks waiting to turn left onto the 2-lane highway. However, drivers going east, away from the bridge are not backed up and are making their merry way toward my little town. They do NOT make holes, but since there are so few of them, it is a reasonable chance to miss the 3 miles of backed-up traffic.
I got broadsided turning left as I tried to fill the hole someone had opened in the line of traffic. I never saw him until he hit me.
It got my attention. My little granddaughter and I could have been killed. Instead, the broadsiding car didn't hit our doors. It hit the front left. I think an angel touched his jeep and it hit exactly where God intended. My first thought was, "I am not making this trip down there any longer." That's a weird thing to think when you're sitting on the side of the road waiting for the state patrol, and knowing it is your fault for not yielding the right of way. I knew right away it was a wake-up call from above. Everybody in both vehicles walked away without an injury (well, not including the injury to my pride). Both vehicles are totaled.
Here is my conclusion: I've got too much going on. Something has got to go. More than ONE something has to go. My "mental plate" is filled far too full, and that is...obviously...dangerous to myself and others. I spent the rest of the evening reorganizing priorities, humbling myself, and talking with the AWANA commander the next morning. Ouch. Humble hurts. Notice there is not a scratch on the doors where we were sitting (I in front; DGD in back). DGD's only concern after accident: "I don't want to miss Cubbies." She was bright-eyed and happy as if nothing had happened. And this was a serious accident. Praise God for booster seats and shoulder straps.
My dear son-in-law left late for AWANA, so he swung by the same back intersection, picked up DGD, and turned into a nice hole somebody made for him. Hmmm....
My DS (DGD's father) drove my car home. Well, babied it home on the back roads, I guess. It barely made it. A tow truck hauled the other vehicle away.
And that is the end of the story. But it is the beginning of a little wisdom.
I Thess. 5:17--In everything give thanks, for this is the will of Christ Jesus concerning you.
Well, I'm back in school again. The school of flexibility. My instructor? AWANA clubs (well, God). My classmates? My fellow leaders. My grade tonight? Uh...C+?
I should have known it was a set up for being stretched in my character walk. But as usual, I was unprepared. I thought I was prepared. I had my songs ready, my bag, my notebook, and I was out the door 50 minutes before Club started. It is a 20 minute drive. Uh. Wait. Not tonight. The traffic was backed up on the only bridge over the river in our small town. This traffic thing is like playing Russian Roulette. You never know when you'll be nailed. It took 40 minutes to get to church. I was cornered when I walked in. "Here's a new Spark. What color group?" What color group? How about letting me put my bag down first?
I hit Club running...folks finding me with questions: "I need record cards." "We need more AWANA bucks." "Is it all right to sign this section off when the parent didn't sign it?" "What time is Game Time?" Then I discovered a couple of my Sparks helpers had been recruited to help in the Cubbies room!
My only goal was to get through Handbook Time. Then the kids go to Game Time and I could take a breath or two. Good news? A puppet show that I didn't have to be part of, and the Sparks would join the T&T on the circle for it. Ah! Then the Sparks would come down to our Council Time Room--a smaller SS classroom. I would sing with them and hand out awards. I was looking forward to that.
That's when it happened. The bomb. The unexpected. The surprise.
"Did you hear that everybody's going into the adult SS room for Council Time tonight?"
"Everybody? In that tiny room? I've set it up for the Sparks."
"Sorry. [The commander] said we have to give the Cubbies the Game Circle for 15 minutes."
"Since when do the Cubbies need the Game Circle?" (No answer expected. None given.)
Choices:
a) Accept with dignity and smile
b) Pout and roll eyes
c) Refuse and go find commander to complain
d) Ignore and hope it's not true
Which did I choose?
d) Ignore and hope it's not true
It was true, but I was so busy I pushed it out of my mind until I walked into the SS room and saw the kids pouring in. To add insult to injury the commander asked me to sing a few songs with the kids after the puppet show. Right. Sparky songs with 6th graders. Are you laughing yet? I wasn't. I was getting blind-sided a second time. OK. Dig up a song or two that the older kids will like. Do, Lord works. Behold, Behold, if they promise not to "knock" on the chairs and break them in their enthusiasm.
By this time I was beginning to "get it." I talked to the kids about being flexible, and wham! I was talking to myself. That's why I get a C+ instead of an F. I didn't have time to devote to having a bad attitude. However, I should have responded with "Great! We'll make it work."
Now that's the sign of a graduate from Flexibility 101.
I imagine I'll be repeating this course in the near future. I want to raise my grade to an "A." Here we are--all stuffed into the adult SS classroom. Sparks in front; T&T in the back.
I left the kids in the house, eating their usual lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, for only a few short minutes, while I ran out back to check on the ewe and her lamb (wouldn't want the ol' girl to get tangled up in the picket line). I returned to the house to hear hysterical screams coming from my DD, who told me, "The oven fell on Chad!"
Notice there is not a scratch on the doors where we were sitting (I in front; DGD in back). 
DGD's only concern after accident: "I don't want to miss Cubbies." She was bright-eyed and happy as if nothing had happened. And this was a serious accident. Praise God for booster seats and shoulder straps. 
Here we are--all stuffed into the adult SS classroom. Sparks in front; T&T in the back.
