Every time I open my little pocket Bible, the one I carry with me where ever I go,  I know the fear of the Lord.   It is not because of the Scriptures though, it is something I placed in there; a photograph.   It is a photograph of a tiny little baby with tubes and wires going in and out of her, her little head smaller than the thermometer.  It is the Polaroid picture the hospital social worker took of my daughter, Evangeline who made her debut eight weeks early.  As I write this I tremble and my eyes flow over as I recall the majesty and power of the Lord, as I am humbled that he would show favor to me, that when other babies were not surviving, my daughter was thriving.   

This week I have been kicked in the pants by my theme (and yes, dear, I stole your phrase).  Every area of my life has reared up and become unstable.  Everything.  My home life, my church life (our pastor quit), our homeschooling, my relationship with my children, my husband, and oh yes, add to that a certain one year old that is pushing through both of her “bunny teeth” at the same time.  I am struggling with that yir’ ah ‘tude.  Scripture tells us that we need to be disciplined to know better and to learn the fear of the Lord (Proverb 1:7 and 29).  Fear of the Lord is learned by listening (Psalm 34:11).  Now don’t you just love when God confirms something?   Two hours after writing the previous statement I am sitting with my daughter doing Latin.  Actually, the truth is I am not sitting, I am making cheese sauce for tonight’s mac and cheese and a salad for tonight because we will be at dance class during the time I would normally prepare supper, taking 5 lbs of cooked chicken that is till a little too warm off the bone for supper tomorrow night and another meal, and burning the pumpkin granola.  The translation she must do is, Salvete, discipuli; Hello, students.  She says, discupuli, like discipline?  Yes, exactly.  Just like discipline is required to learn.  Yup.  This kid apparently gets derivatives.