Feb. 19, 2007 - I'm moving

I just want to let you all know that I have moved to another place in the blogosphere.  My new blog address is:

http://withgreatjoy.blogspot.com/

Will you come and visit me?

I am in the very slow process of transferring all of my entries and comments over there.  For the past week or so, I have been double-posting (both here and there), but that is getting tiresome.  So I won't be doing that any longer. This will be my final post over here at HSB.  It may take another month or more to get all the old entries up.  Now, I'm not very techno-savvy, but I think if you read my blog via Bloglines, it may be quite annoying as I keep editing posts to get all the old ones up- (as in, it may show up frequently that I've posted a new post, when in reality it's just me, editing one.)  I think that's how it works.  So I'm apologizing in advance, and I will get them all up just as soon as I can. 

Thank you!

Stacy

Feb. 18, 2007 - So I'm a little slow...

...in getting the pictures uploaded from my camera.  Have you noticed?  Lots of picture-less posts lately.   

Remember when my friend Michelle from Indiana came to visit me?  I met Michelle through our adoption of Isaias.  Prior to traveling to Guatemala to meet Isaias for the first time, I found out that she and her husband were making their first trip, too.  I emailed her saying, "Hey... we're traveling at the same time!" and she emailed back and asked me to give her a call.  I don't particularly like phone conversations, much less with a complete stranger, but I thought, "what the heck..." and dialed the number she gave me.  And I loved her.  We emailed several times in the weeks leading up to our trip, and then we met in person in the Houston airport.  We got to spend four days in Guatemala with Michelle and her husband Chad, along with another couple-- and we all had a great time!  Michelle and I have been friends every since.  She's the best long-distance friend EVER, considering she has made two trips all the way across the US to visit us AND spends a lot of her time emailing and IMing me. 

Anyway, last month she was here and finally, here are some pictures.  She brought along her son Micah, who delighted us all and who is in the picture below.  Isn't he a CUTIE?!?!  

Michelle actually took more pictures than I took, and the ONE picture I have of her and I together I actually stole off of her blog post.  So if you wanna see more pictures, go there.  And for some reason the link function is not working here at HSB today, so go here: http://asforourhouse.blogspot.com/2007/01/what-fun-we-had.html

We had a great time and I am SOOOO thankful she came!  What a wonderful friend she is!

Feb. 16, 2007 - The quiet hour

After lunch and story time we have “quiet time” at our house.  This is a time in which, theoretically, everyone is quiet for a period of one to two hours (preferably two).  My youngest (nearly two) goes down first, and then I bring our three-year old to his bed.  Then my daughter (five) supposedly plays quietly in the living room while I get to go to my bedroom, crawl onto the bed with my journal, Bible and a snack.  And after that, read my book or take a nap and have, ah!… quiet. 

Theoretically. 

A couple of things have made me revisit this whole area.

First, my daughter’s quiet time is very quiet, but she interrupts me frequently.  When she’s in the living room she pops in every 5-10 minutes to keep me informed of what she’s doing or has done, or she wanders in to ask the dreaded, “Now what should I do?”  And she goes through seasons (this being a long one of them) where she requests to sit beside me while I have my quiet time.  And I know I could be stern about it and stick by the "rules", but then… there she is, clutching her Bible story-book and her “journal” and pen, and longing to be like mommy.  What can I say?  So, I say yes, and there she sits, quietly, but then every few minutes whispering, “Look at what I wrote, mommy.”  Or, “I’m reading about Sampson today, see?”  Very cute.  And yet, I miss having that time all to myself. 

The other factor is that I’m wondering if my three-year old is ready to stop taking his nap.  (My wonderings are based on the fact that when I put him down, it takes him a good hour to go to sleep and then he lies awake for a couple of hours after we put him down at nighttime.)  Sigh.  I am not eager to part with his nap, and yet… I fear the time has come.  But if he is done with napping, then we need to move into a quiet time for him, too, which makes me revisit what is and isn’t working for our existing quiet time.  And it’s not working.

So.  To all of you mamas who have quiet times at your house with pre-readers, what are you doing that works for you?  Do you gather materials/projects/books/puzzles beforehand so that they are occupied?  Do you set a timer?  Do you discipline when they interrupt?  Do you ever let them join you?  Tell me what is/has worked and also what hasn't worked, so that I can avoid those!

Feb. 15, 2007 - My choice today

Yesterday as my husband came home from work, I met him-- not at the door, but outside-- with tears and this: "I'm running away from home!"

Needless to say, we've had a difficult week.  Both Monday and Tuesday night this week Mark and I had to leave the kids and drive two hours away to attend some adoption classes, sit through the hour and a half class to drive another two hours home.  We knew this would be a difficult month.  We have a number of these classes to attend, and I figured it would take a toll on all of us.  It has.  I am tired, impatient, irritable, crabby, and emotional.  The kids, out of their routine-- are tired, whiny, argumentative, prone to fits and tantrums, and emotional.  Like I said, I'm ready to run away from home. 

It is times like this that I become very grumbly and my thoughts very me-centered:  "I need a break."  "What about me?"   "I need some sleep."  "I don't want to do this right now."  "I'm so tired of this."  Things like that.  Oh, and thoughts like: "These kids are driving me absolutely crazy!" 

And all day yesterday God was urging me to choose joy.  You know what?  I didn't.  I knew that's what I needed to do, but I am stubborn and would much rather wallow in self-pity. 

Today I'm going to obey, though.  I am headed now to turn on some worship songs and sing.  And put a smile on my face.  And regardless of whether I get a nap or a break or rest, and even IF my children continue their behavior, I am choosing joy today.

 - - -

***UPDATE***  Thank you, readers, for your prayers and empathy!  It was a good day!  After posting this entry I went upstairs and had a tickle-fest with my boys on the bed.  And spent the rest of the day delighting in little things, like my three-year old licking the frosting off of his valentine cookie.  For a full half-hour (!)  AND I did get a break, too. 

Feb. 14, 2007 - Bragging on my man

Happy Valentines Day, dear readers!

Can I just say that my *favorite* part of Valentines day is the gift my husband gives me?  I already know what he'll be giving me, though I don't know all it contains. 

Every year Mark gives me a CD on Valentines Day.  Not just any old CD, mind you.  But a CD with songs he has selected for me.  He chooses songs that emote his love or feelings for me, or songs that would evoke memories of our year together.  And he writes a brief paragraph about why he chose that song.  So basically it ends up being a love letter to me along with a fun new CD for me to listen to. 

 - - -

Update: For those who are curious, here's the 2007 song list:

I Can't Help Myself- The Temptations

Only Heart- John Mayer

Jesus, Take the Wheel- Carrie Underwood

Get Rhythm- Johnny Cash (and my favorite song on the CD)

Stranger in this Land- Waterdeep

Whatever You Ask- Steve Camp

How Great is Our God- Chris Tomlin

God of Wonders- Third Day (when this song comes on my three-year old shouts, "This is my song!" :))

Redeemer- Nicole C. Mullen

Majesty (Here I Am)- Hillsong & Delirious

Facedown- Matt Redman

It Is Well- Brian & Harry Doerksen

'Tis So Sweet- Danielle & Devin Dean, Garland Phillips (my favorite hymn)

Feb. 9, 2007 - Dandelions

The first item on my daily schedule is this:

• Up at 5:30, pray

It's been so long since I've intentionally been up early to pray that I've considered removing it from my list.  But it remains on my schedule, because ideally I'd really like to be there.

Last night I wearily climbed into bed and picked up my book and read a bit from Elisabeth Elliot's Be Still My Soul.  It was like a drink of water to this tired and feeling-like-a-failure-in-my-prayer-life mommy:

I will offer Him my prayers, my sighs.  I will pour out my heart to Him.  Even in their distractedness, inconsistency, and deficiency, I can be confident that my prayers rise to Him like incense ("Let my prayer be counted as incense before thee, and the lifting up of my hands as an evening sacrifice!"  Psalm 141:2, RSV).  He receives my imperfect prayers like the mother receives the crushed dandelions, as gifts made perfect in love. 

Feb. 8, 2007 - What's that you say?

Feb. 6, 2007 - I wonder...

..what it means about me, these things:

1.  I just ran to the store to get some milk.  We were out.  Or so I thought.  Until I came home and put the two gallons in the fridge and saw that actually, there was a full.gallon.in.there.already.  

Milk is the drink of choice in our home and there was only enough milk for one of my children to have a half-cup all day long.  How could I have missed that gallon of milk?!  It's not like it's a small item, a gallon of milk.  And I spend probably a full third of my day pulling things in and out of that fridge. 

2.  So, I was at the store, getting the milk.  As I set my gallons on the what-do-you-call-the-roller-thing-that-slides-your-groceries-towards-the-checker?, I remembered we'd recently gotten a new card from our bank.  I thought, "Was that a new debit or credit card?"  And then remembered it was a new credit card.  Our debit card number was the same.  So then, in an effort to be task-oriented and prepared, I thought to myself (oh, foolish me, why did I have to go and think this?!?):

"What is our pin number?" 

And right then it was time for me to punch in the number and of course I had a complete lapse of memory and could not, for the life of me, remember my number.  After embarrassingly punching in random numbers, twice, to have the checker indicate that I needed to enter my pin number yet again, a very-flustered-me got out my credit card.  I mean, REALLY.  I only use my debit card every other day.  I KNOW that number.  I also know that if I had absentmindedly approached the debit machine, I could have speedily punched in those numbers and been on my merry way. 

Arghh.  Should I mention now that the debit-card situation has happened to me before? 

Feb. 5, 2007 - A new journey

This past weekend Mark and I attended 30+ hours of training to begin the process of adoption.  Again.  This time we will be adopting a child through the foster-care system in our state.  We have the incredible privilege of working with a local Christian adoption agency that has a heart for the orphans.  This agency sprung from a church with a vision to match Christian couples and/or families with foster children that are available to be adopted... for FREE.  And here begins a new journey for our family.  The next several months will entail much tedious paperwork, additional training, a homestudy, many meetings with social workers, foster licensing, much prayer and-- my least favorite, but the most growing-- waiting.

Those of you who read here know that Mark and I have a heart for adoption (for those who didn't know, see the precious little one in the photo up there, or check the sidebar to read our adoption journey), but it has taken us a long while to get to this particular place. 

This past summer, I was praying earnestly that God would bless us with a baby-- through pregnancy.  (Mind you, we've been praying this for a few years, and have not been able to get pregnant since we had Isaac.  He's now three.)  At this time, I began asking God, "Why not?  Why aren't you answering this desire of our hearts?"  And more grievously, "Why does your answer seem to be 'no'?"  We had also begun to think about adopting again, through the foster/adopt program here in our state, but we hadn't moved forward with that yet.  At the same time I was wrestling with all of these questions, God began to lay a passage of Scripture on my heart from the book of Isaiah:

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

because the Lord has anointed me

to preach good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives

and release from darkness for the prisoners,

to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor

and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn,

and provide for those who grieve in Zion---

to bestow on them a crown of beauty

instead of ashes,

the oil of gladness

instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise

instead of a spirit of despair.

They will be called oaks of righteousness,

a planting of the Lord

for the display of his splendor.

I had no idea why God had laid this passage on my heart, but I began to read it often and pray over it.  As I journaled about it, I wondered if the Lord was calling me to a ministry to the poor, if He had in mind for me, for us-- a ministry to the homeless?  And so I prayed about that, and wondered what it was that we should be doing in that regard.

I sat down to journal one day and had a real sense of  restlessness.  I don't know why.  I wondered, in my journal, if the restlessness was from God.  Was it that He wanted us to be moving forward on the adoption process?  And I asked Him to quiet my heart and tell me.  And what was I supposed to do about this possible new ministry God had for me?  How could I commit time and energies to a ministry to the poor when I was called to be home, here with my children? 

Later that same day it struck me.  Here I was, seeking Him, inquiring as to how we should be ministering to the poor:  What, Lord, can I be doing?   Simultaneously I was praying, "bless us with more children." 

What I wanted was a pregnancy.  A child to grow within me, to deliver, to nurse.  And a ministry to the poor on the side. 

I journaled that day, "But You, Lord?  What You want may be this: To have us take in children who are poor.  To preach good news to them, to bind up their broken hearts, to proclaim freedom to them and release them from their darkness.  To comfort them.  To be able to give them the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair."  And somehow, right then, I was sure that that's what I'd been missing all along. 

God had seen fit to answer our prayers for a baby through the lens of His kingdom-purposes. 

At the time I did not feel a joyful obedience, but a relenting to His plans for us.  For the children He desired to bring us.  I surrendered my own desires and told Him that we would walk obediently forward into the unknown (by us) and yet seen and known and planned (by Him).

We continued to research options and pray together.  And in October we attended an introductory meeting with the local agency I mentioned above.  At the meeting we felt such a confirmation from God that this was the road He wanted us on.  Such peace.  And the relenting changed to a joyful obedience.  We are excited to see what God has for the future of our family.

Jan. 31, 2007 - Listening

A couple of years ago I was longing to hear God's voice.  I was driving in our van with my kids, listening to the radio, and asking God, "Will you speak to me?" 

I honestly can't remember now if I was asking about something particular (ie- if we were trying to make a decision about something, and I was looking for a particular answer from Him), or if it was simply that I wanted that kind of intimacy with Him.

Throughout the Bible, I see that kind of relationship with God and His people.  Beginning with Adam and Eve, and then many others.  One of my favorite Bible stories is the story of Samuel as a young boy.  He lies down, and the Lord calls him.  He thinks it is Eli, so he runs to Eli to find out what he wants.  Eli tells him it wasn't he who had called.  So Samuel went back to bed.  Again, he hears a voice, calling, "Samuel!"  Samuel again goes to Eli.  Eli again tells him to go back to bed; he didn't call.  Samuel hears the voice again, and this time as he goes to Eli, Eli has figured it out.  He tells Samuel it is the Lord calling him.  He instructs Samuel:  "Go and lie down, and if he calls you, say, 'Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.'  The Bible tells us that Samuel went and lay down, and "the Lord came and stood there, calling as at the other times, 'Samuel!  Samuel!'  And Samuel said, 'Speak, for your servant is listening.'  

And the Lord spoke to Samuel.  Just like that.  He called Samuel by name, and He had things He wanted to say to Samuel. 

I wanted that, too.  I  yearned for that kind of relationship with the Lord.  I knew that God had not stopped speaking to His people, so why wasn't He speaking to me?

So that day as I was driving in my van, I prayed, "Lord, will you speak to me?  I want to hear your voice."

And instantly I had the thought:  Maybe if you'd turn off the radio, Stacy, you could actually hear Him.  I promptly turned off the radio.  And I wondered: was that Him, telling me to turn it off?  I wasn't sure.  Now as I look back on that day, I think it was Him, speaking to me.  Telling me to listen.  Regardless, it was a wake-up call for me.  I realized then, how foolish I was, asking God to speak and yet drowning His voice out with all the noise. 

I think God is faithfully speaking, and we are not listening.  We are not Samuels, quiet and ready: "What is it?  Did you call?  Speak, for your servant is listening."  And another thing: I think that the Enemy knows this.  He effectively adds more noise, because the more noise there is, the less we can hear God speak.  Think TVs, radios, CD players, the phone, IPods, etc.  Where is the quiet? 

After that day, I began turning off the radio when I drove.  Not long after that, I stopped watching TV.  I purposed to be quieter, to spend more time listening, in case He wanted to say something.  And do you know what?  He did.  He had things to say to me.  He was faithful to speak as I listened. 

Jim Cymbala, (pastor of The Brooklyn Tabernacle for over 25 years), writes:

The divine message that Isaiah spoke thousands of years ago applies at all times to all people: "Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare.  Give ear and come to me; hear me, that your soul may live."  (Isaiah 55:2-3)... God is a speaking, communicating God, but someone has to be listening on the other end.

Jesus wrote letters to seven different churches in the book of Revelation.  The spiritual condition of each assembly was different, and therefore Christ's words were never the same as  he addressed their unique situations.  But it is noteworthy that he used the same phrase to close all seven letters:  "He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches"  (Revelation 2-3)

The Holy Spirit still speaks vital messages to God's people today, but we must have tender, attentive hearts to hear what he is saying.

When was the last time you and I could say that we heard from God?  ...God is still pleading in countless ways, "Hear me, that your soul may live" (Isaiah 55:3)  Don't all of us need to slow down and get quiet before him? 

I did.  I still do.  I had a wonderful season of quiet.  But the noise is creeping back into my life.  

I am weary, and I turn on the television.  I flip on the radio in the mornings as I clean the kitchen.  I get into the van and on goes the radio.  And once again, I know He's saying, "Turn it off, Stacy."   So again I purpose to be more attentive.  To be intentional.  I want to be like Samuel, quiet and ready: "Speak, for your servant is listening." 

(excerpt taken from The Life God Blesses, copyright 2001)

Jan. 30, 2007 - Three things

Last week I had a difficult day with the kids.  It was so evident to me that each of them were falling into the sins they are each prone to.  I am very familiar with them, those sin patterns. 

For one child, it's whining, inattentiveness, and a slothfulness-- especially when it comes to obeying right away.  For another, it's tattling, and a sly way of stirring up trouble with his/her siblings.  As well as a tendency to argue and give excuses.  For the other,  it's a bad attitude.  A very strong temper.  Anger.

As I journaled about these things, a few things struck me: 

One.  The fact that these things have flared up in them in such a way that they did last week reveals a lack of diligence on my part.  (Don't you hate that?  I mean, yes-- I can attribute it to their fallen nature.  But it also points glaringly to my lack in reining them in.)

Two.  As the mama of my children, I know them.  I see their strengths and their failings very clearly.  And I believe this window God has given me into their lives comes with a great responsibility.  A responsibility to be faithful in prayer for these areas.

Three.  And the most obvious, of course: I have the same problem.  I, too, continually fall into the same patterns of sin.  James 1:14 says, "..each one is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed."   I have my own areas: my pride, anger,  impatience, unforgiveness, and my tongue, to name just a few off the top of my head.

I need You, God.  Will you strengthen me to be diligent with them?   Give me wisdom from your vast supply.  Equip me so that I may parent them as You desire me to.  Fill me with Your tender, gracious spirit for my children.  May I be poured out for them.  May I die to myself and allow You to reveal Yourself through me to these You have entrusted to me.   And, Lord?  Remind me to pray for them; for these areas of sin in their lives.  Even a quick prayer, at the time of correction, with them in my lap.  Transform me into Your image.  Continue to shape me and change me.  I want to please You, God.  I want my days here with these little ones to bring You glory and honor.  May it be so.  In Jesus' name, Amen.

Jan. 29, 2007 - Rejoicing

The seventy-two returned with joy and said, "Lord, even the demons submit to us in your name."

He replied, "I saw Satan fall like lightening from heaven.  I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you.  However, do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven."

~Luke 10: 17-20

I am ashamed to say it, but as I reflected on these verses this past week, I realized that I take this precious truth for granted.   

Jesus tells us to rejoice that our names are written in heaven.  How often am I joyful over that fact?  The Greek word for rejoice is chairo, and it means: "to rejoice exceedingly".  (Which begs the question: When was the last time I rejoiced exceedingly over anything?)  But this.  How often am I celebrating His lavish gift of salvation with exceeding joy?  Not often enough.

I've asked God to imprint this truth afresh upon my heart.  May I delight in His gift of salvation.  J O Y !  My name, Stacy.  Written in the book of Life!   God has reserved a spot in heaven for me.  He has rescued me from death.  He has invited me to be with Him-- for eternity.  My life here on earth is but a breath; it is that short.  But heaven?  An eternity.

A refrain has been in my heart these past few days.  And a number of times I've just had to burst out in song.  It's the beginning of the chorus from a song by the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir.  (I wish you could hear it with me, because these few words don't quite do this exuberant song justice.)  Nonetheless, here they are:

Hallelujah!  I am saved!

Jan. 26, 2007 - Thankful...

Still more from my list:

praying with my mom

my crockpot

sweet forgiveness from my children when I've had to apologize

storytime before naps each day

little legs that have kicked off the covers in sleep

velcro shoes for little feet

the individual personalites of each of my children

traditions

rearranged furniture

heavy eyelids that urge me to put the book down and sleep

Isaac's bold displays of love

his grateful heart

Ella's early-morning self: groggy, quiet

how they run and greet daddy at the door

Isaias on his tiptoes to peek out the window

how Isaias tucks his hands between us with I'm holding him

how Isaac gets his colors mixed up

the sound of his feet padding up the stairs in the early morning hours

that Isaias calls, "daddyyyy" now in the mornings

Ella positioning all the nativity figurines-- at home and at my mom's-- to look at the baby Jesus

lunches around the table with Amy and her kids

how Isaias says "mama" when he wants to show me something

Ella learning to write words

puzzles

coconut macaroons

that Mark takes over when I can't balance the checkbook

Ella affirming her brothers

framed 8x10's of my smiling children

earnest prayers for a baby in mommy's tummy

Mark's TLC when I'm sick

Mark, like a little boy, intent upon some baseball cards

or legos

or puzzles

knowing You

and trusting You

great-grandpa Jake

Mark unloading the van after Costco trips

and loading the fridge and cupboards for me

doing something to make the kids giggle

banners and signs made for big events

the sound of raindrops hitting my face

the feel of them

Migee and Donto, Isaac's imaginary friends

Your law, Lord

I'm wrapping up this list.  I've got about 40 more to go to get to 1000.  Early on, I wondered if I'd ever be able to come up with an entire 1000!  But it really hasn't been difficult at all.  It's just a matter of taking the time to stop and consider.  There are so many.

~Stacy

Jan. 24, 2007 - Why in the world...?

Does this kind of conversation happen at anyone else's house?

My daughter:  Mommy, I have to go potty!!!

Me:  Okay, honey.  Go.

Daughter, now hopping in place:  But I have to go reallllllly baaaad!!!!

Me:  Okay, then.  Go.  Go right now.

Daughter, now sitting.  On the floor:  But I have to goooo!

Me:  I know you have to go.  So, go already.

Daughter:  But I have to go really, really bad. 

Me, completely exasperated:  Ella, I know you have to go potty.  You're five.  You're a big girl.  You don't need mommy's help (she doesn't).  So, you'd better get in there before you have an accident.  Go.

And finally she heads to the bathroom. 

?

This seriously baffles me.  And it happens regularly.  It's like she has to give me this three-minute-long frantic announcement every time she has to go potty. 

~Stacy

Jan. 22, 2007 - Holding my youngest

My youngest son came running to me for comfort today after he'd been hurt. 

As I knelt on the floor beside him to give him a hug, it struck me: 

It wasn't always this way. 

When Isaias first came home to us from Guatemala, he was nine months old. 

I would hold him in my arms, on my hip, and-- his response?  He leaned away from me.  He arched his back and turned away, wanting to be out of my arms.  I wondered at the time if he responded this way because he wanted to get down and play, or if I could attribute this to a lack of bonding between us.

When he was sad, I drew him into my arms so that I could reassure him.  He struggled to get free. 

When he got hurt, I gathered him into my arms to comfort him.  He fought it; he wanted down. 

When I put him to bed at night, I followed the same routine I had with my other two.  I held him, facing me, my hand behind his head, his head resting on my shoulder.  And I rocked him.  I sang to him or prayed for him.  He screamed.  And he fought me.  He pulled his head back, flailed his arms, trying to turn away from me. 

You can imagine how difficult this was.  What should I do-- force him?  Somehow that didn't seem right, but then, what was the alternative?  Let him go without this affection from his mama?  Or did I just need to give him time?  Many weighed in on the "give him time" side.  Mark and I agonized over this.  And we prayed for wisdom.  We finally decided that we had to train him to receive affection from us.  We chose to gently but firmly persist.  

From then on, when I held him in my arms and he wriggled to get free, I kept him there, holding him.  It was at my will- not his- that he was able to get down.  When he was hurt or sad, I held him for comfort.  Oh, it wasn't comforting to him at first-- he wanted no part in it.  But I persisted.  And at bedtime-- oh, bedtime was the hardest-- I held him against me and he screamed as I sang softly, crying as I sang.  And I prayed earnestly that God would soften his heart towards me; that he would be able to rest in my arms, not struggle against them. 

There were a few evenings, in frustration and tears, that I did not persist.  I felt weary of trying.  There were times I let him have his way.  I began our bedtime routine, he began screaming, and I gave in.  I laid him down and promptly walked out of the room, feeling rejected, hurt or angry.  There were times I told Mark, "I can't do this."  And I would pass him off to Mark to put down for the night.  And then Mark would come to me, hold me in my hurt, and remind me: He just doesn't know, Stacy.  He's learning.  Be patient with him. 

I honestly forget how long it took.  But I do remember the first time I rocked him before bedtime and he didn't scream as I sang to him.  He still pulled away, but he didn't scream.  I came out of his room, jublilant, and told Mark all about it. 

And then another night, not long after that one, I held his head against my shoulder as I rocked him.   But I carefully removed my hand from the back of his head and he kept his head there on my shoulder.  He picked his head up after a moment and I waited, frozen, to see what he would do.  And then he laid it back upon my shoulder, content to rest there without my hand directing him.

Today when he came running in to be comforted by his mama, I remembered all that ache in my heart so many months ago as I tried to hold him and he did not want me to.  And I realized that God answered those earnest prayers of ours-- for wisdom and for bonding. 

Now Isaias reaches for me, constantly.  When he is hurt, he turns to either Mark or myself, whoever is nearest.  When he is sad, he wants to be held.  When I am cooking dinner, he is standing nofurther than two feet away from me, watching intently, periodically reaching up to be held.  When I leave the room, he follows me.  When I mention bedtime, he comes to me.  He lays his head on my shoulder many, many times a day.  When I hold him, he snuggles with me.  Oh, just for a minute.  Then he really does want to go play.  He wraps his little brown arms around my neck tightly and he kisses me, hard, on the mouth.  Each time I sit cross-legged on the floor, he comes and turns around to sit in my lap.  When I read books, he climbs up onto my lap. 

God is *so* good.  I am thankful today, for this.

One more thing I thought of today:  I think we do this with our Father sometimes, too.  He wants to teach us something.  He is loving and gentle but firm.  And don't we resist sometimes?  We pull away, not wanting to learn that particular lesson.  We fight Him, thinking that we know best.  We complain and grumble about our circumstances.  We want to retain control.  But He lovingly persists.  He does not walk away from our stubborness.  He does not grow weary with us, and He is slow to anger.  And He knows what we do not know as we fight Him: that we need it; this lesson.  Just like little Isaias needed that loving affection from me. 

Jan. 21, 2007 - A man I know

Let me tell you a little about a man that I know. 

He is first a lover of God.  And he loves God's word.

He is a wonderful husband.  He is attentive, tender, supportive, patient, encouraging, complimentary, romantic, faithful and pure.  He is always willing to step in and give his weary wife some rest.  He tells his wife she is beautiful--  many times a day.  He's the best listener.   He writes cards and leaves notes in the shower.  He is selfless.  He is tall, lean and handsome.  He makes me laugh, and he holds me when I cry.  He is my best friend.  Yes, this is my husband. 

He is crazy about his children.  If you were to frequent our home on any given night, you would find him lying on the floor, wrestling with our boys.  Or on all fours, chasing our children around the house.  Or sitting beside our daughter, playing dollhouse.  Or on the couch reading stories.  Or playing the seventeenth game of hide-and-seek.  Or with music spilling from the stereo, a child in his arms, dancing happily around our living room.  Or he's making badger masks for the kids (because we were learning about badgers).  Or, after expressed interest in dalmatians, he painted little faces, hands, and feet with white paint, and added black spots.  And then he took pictures.  When bedtime rolls around, he gathers our children around him for a Bible story.  But he doesn't just read the story.   If you peeked into the room, you would spy some earnest little actors.  Daddy is the director and sometimes-actor, and our children get to act out the Bible stories.  If a child calls out, fearful, in the middle of the night, it is his name that is called:  "Daddy!"   And he goes at once; reassuring and secure.  He prays, sometimes sings, and the child is tucked back into bed. 

He is one who loves others more than himself.  He is continually looking for ways to serve others, and he serves without desire for recognition.  He gives everyone the benefit of the doubt.  He does not keep a record of wrongs.  He is absolutely trustworthy.  You can count on him for an honest answer, always.  He has a great sense of humor.  He is thoughtful and kind.  He is generous.  He is compassionate.  He feels deeply, and is not afraid to let a tear slip down his face.  He is full of integrity.  He is one who others listen to.  They trust his counsel and his opinions.  I am so proud of him.

He is a good man, this man.  And he is mine.  Oh, I realize that Mark is His, but He has seen fit to give him to me for these years.  And I am so thankful for my beloved husband.  For this father of my children.  For this godly man God has blessed me so richly with. 

Happy Birthday, honey.  I love you.

Jan. 19, 2007 - My new favorite blog

I must tell all of you, dear readers, about a blog you simply must frequent.  Elise over at Joy in the Morning writes beautifully.  Here's something from her archives that I read this morning. 

Go, already.  Scoot.   

Click on the link above.  And read.  You will be encouraged. 

But then come back to read the rest of this.

See?   Doesn't she write lovely things?   That post so encouraged my heart this morning. 

Elise also has Children's Book Mondays, where she reviews a book.  She writes a great review, and the books she has recommended that we've checked out from our library are excellent.  Who doesn't like a good book recommendation for your children?

So, add Joy in the Morning to your Bloglines list or your favorites page.  You'll be glad you did. 

~Stacy

Jan. 15, 2007 - Honey-baked chicken update

A few months ago I posted a recipe for Honey-Baked Chicken, one of our family favorites.  I've made it for years according to that previously-posted recipe, but recently I've started making it differently.

Instead of baking the chicken, I now use my crockpot.  And it's so much better this way!  

Honey Chicken

Place 4-6 boneless, skinless chicken breasts in your crockpot.

Add 1-2 cups of water, not quite covering chicken.

Sprinkle with salt and a bit of pepper.

Cook on HIGH for 3 hours.

Drain water.

Remove chicken and cut into pieces.  Place cubed chicken back into the crockpot.

Combine and pour over cubed chicken:

2/3 cup margarine or butter, melted

2/3 cup honey

4 T prepared mustard

2 tsp salt

2 tsp curry powder

Turn crockpot to LOW, and cook for 1 additional hour.

Serve chicken and sauce over white rice.

Mmmm.  It is so good.  The chicken is so moist and the sauce is truly delicious.  Try it.  You will LOVE it.  Really. 

~Stacy

Jan. 11, 2007 - Question at the door

Yesterday morning.  We're inside, gathered near our front door, getting ready to meet the snow on our way to the van.

Boots?  Check. 

Coats?  Check.

Mittens?  Check.

Scarves?  Check.

Diaper bag?  Check. 

Milk cups?  Check.

Purse?  Check.

Keys?  Check.

I think we're ready.  I open the door.

Ella asks, "Mommy, are there still people who want to kill people who have black skin?"

Oh. 

It took me just a moment to determine where this was coming from.  A hand-me-down book about the Underground Railroad in the 1800's.  My daughter perused this, some months ago, and asked questions about the pictures.  We talked briefly about slavery-- how there were people who did not know Jesus who did not love black people and hurt them because of the color of their skin.

I answered with a question, "Why are you asking, honey?"  But I knew. 

"Because Isaias has black skin."

Oh, my sweet girl. 

There is so much I want to shield my children from.  It would be so much easier just to say, "No, honey.  There's no one like that."  But sadly, there is.  It is times like these that I think about this world we are raising our children in:  the evil, darkness, hatred, false pictures of love and beauty, greed, love of self.  It's enough to grip my heart with fear.  I just want to protect her eyes and ears and heart from all of these things.  But the fear that comes in then just as quickly goes away.  Because I know this:

When I am afraid, I will trust in You. 

In God, whose word I praise,

in God I trust; I will not be afraid.

What can mortal man do to me?

~Psalm 56:3-4

And this:

Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid.

The Lord, the Lord, is my strength and my song.

~Isaiah 12:2

And this:

God has said,

"Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you."

So we say with confidence,

"The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid.  What can man do to me?"

~Hebrews 13:5-6

So I said, "Yes, honey.  There are still people like that.  We don't know any of those people, but there are people like that.  They don't know Jesus yet.  But honey, you don't need to be afraid for Isaias because his skin is dark.  God is always with us.  And he is stronger and bigger and smarter than any man could ever hope to be.  You don't need to worry."

And we don't.  Need to worry.  We do not need to fear evil, because he is with us.  Oh, I am thankful.  Thank you, God, for the truth of Your word.  Thank you that You are light in this dark world.  Thank you that we can rest under Your mighty hand.

Isn't it a good place to be?

~Stacy

Jan. 10, 2007 - A new site

Two gifted writers.

Ann, who writes at The Holy Experience of Listening

and

Tonia, who previously wrote at Intent, and now writes at little old house on the hill in the woods

are joining to write at a new site called the sacred everyday.  I've been eagerly anticipating the unveiling of this new blog, and it's now up!

I will be peeking in there frequently.  I encourage you to read there, too. 

~Stacy