I can't stop sending joyful praises heavenward. This new house is all that we've wanted, and abundantly more than we could ask. So many things I'm thankful for...
- Not worrying about the language or habits of the neighborhood children
- Not cringing every time a car pulled into the parking lot of our townhouse with obscene or distateful music blaring
- Not reminding the kids (once again) not to thump up and down the stairs or run through the house yelling because "we have neighbors"
- Being able to see the stars at night
- The lovely vista from the end of our driveway-a bluff covered with fall colors, rising from the river (see below before the colors changed)
- The quiet
- Space to be a family without being on top of each other
- A dishwasher to help me keep up on housekeeping
- Room for all our books (if only we had more bookcases!)
- Being no more than 10 minutes from my three best home schooling buddies (we used to be 45 minutes away)
- Room to teach classes at home, to be a blessing to other home schooling families
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I just returned from a writer's conference-a small one, in a small town on Lake Michigan. I enjoyed the time to talk with other adults, share a love of reading and writing, and listen to several favorite speakers/authors. When I returned home, my husband shared news that he had received the day I left. His uncle had passed away while preparing for work, a sudden heart attack took him with no warning to any of us. This man was a godly husband, father, and leader in my husband's family. He was also one of my favorite people--someone who loved a new joke, who truly cared about the lives of those around him, and who loved everything Wisconsin-brats, frozen custard, kringle, and Packers.
One of the workshops I attended at the conference was led by a literature professor from Moody. She shared what she believed to be five things wrong with modern (popular) Christian fiction. One of the points was that most fiction puts forth a false, sentimental theology that Jesus makes all things better right now, while the "fairy tale endings" insist on resolution and closure. Theologically, we won't have resolution until Christ returns in his kingdom and restores all. She said that literature should leave us with a longing for that time, rather than a satisfaction that all is well now-almost as if we are answering our own prayers. In light of this sad news that my husband shared when I returned home, I have to agree. So many of those books that burden the shelves at Family Christian Stores do not reflect the reality of the lives I see around me.
Three days ago I was enjoying the peace and space of our new home in the country, and drafting my blog entry for sharing all about our new space. Now, I am grieving again. This will be our fourth close family funeral in three years. I am growing weary of grief and longing for the day when all sorrow will pass away.
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Although packing makes life difficult in some ways, it also brings empty shelves. The more I pack, the less I have to clean. The children kept out only the favorite toys, so their clean-up is shorter also. Today I packed up the PC and set up the docking station for the laptop. I'm sure I heard the computer desk sigh in relief. The laptop is self-contained, no extra peripherals to take up extra shelf space. Now I have room for the printer/scanner and laser printer which had been sitting on the built in book case. Voila, another cleared space. The hard part will be unapcking and watching all these empty spaces disappear in the new house. At heart I think I am a minimalist, except for books.
And speaking of minimalism...I've reduced our math curriculum to memorizing the facts and only the facts until they are mastered. I know the opinions on this vary widely, but my kids are spending way too much counting on fingers or looking at the multiplication chart. It seems that once you know the processes and the facts, the rest of math is simply applying that knowledge. My 6 yo knows what it means to add and subtract, so she just needs the facts on the tip of her tongue. My 9 yo understands all 4 processes and likes getting done quickly so I'm appealing to that side of him...if you memorize these facts, your math work will take much less time. Having a Flashmaster makes this more fun.
Another benefit to packing most of our stuff...the children are playing together more, with simple things like card games and the counting animals from our math drawer. Yep...unpacking is going to be done very slowly...
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Despite the advice of most of my fellow home schooling friends, I attempted to begin school on Tuesday amidst packing and planning a move. It's not that I'm worried about getting behind, although my task-oriented nature does buck at the thought of pushing tasks back. No, I was actually looking forward to spending so much concentrated time with my kids, doing what I love to do-sharing my joy in literature, history, science, and faith. I was looking forward to the return to some structure in our days and a reason to just sit and read to them. But the house purchase kept interjecting itself, and those were phone calls I really did have to answer. So rather than frustrate them and me, the school schedule has been shelved for another week. Depending on how much I get done this weekend, the school books may come back out on Monday.
After the inspection on Tuesday we have had to push the closing date back indefinitely. Basement issues and a couple roof issues have to be taken care of. When the news came through that we might have to wait on closing, or even walk away from the house, I was frustrated by my lack of ability to do anything about it. I couldn't call in contractors for estimates, and I couldn't go online to look for another house because I was laptop-less yesterday. The only thing I could do was pray. And God gave peace. We aren't walking away; the sellers are willing to explore the fixes required and make the repairs; and now I don't have to pack our things in two weeks. Thus, my hope that we can begin school next week. I don't have to have us ready to move quite so soon.
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Isn't this just like God's way of doing things? The minute I try to be content and look for the good in the city, he moves us to the country. We just had an offer accepted on a home that is such a gift. The timing is right, the house is more than we absolutely need, but so much of what we want. It's even move-in ready...well, except for carpet in the kitchen and bathroom-eeewwww, gross. That's coming up as soon as we close!
Closing...we are supposed to close by Sept. 15, which is approximately 20 days away. That means we could move in 21 days if we wanted, since we have possession at close. So much for starting school in September. I'm not complaining, but I am a little nervous putting it off. All my hs-ing buddies tell me to put it off. My plan now is to pack everything but the school books. That way we'll have to do school. So much is packed already...that's been my way of dealing with crowded living areas. Rather than find a spot for it, I'd pack it. So, I keep packing...
It doesn't seem real that we are actually going to homeowners...3 bedrooms, a school room, a 3 season porch and a study for Ray...on a 1/2 acre...within 10 minutes of all my closest home school buddies. What a gift! Add to that the 2 pear trees and the basketball hoop and my kids are thrilled with it! I'll even have room for my writing classes.
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This year, I didn’t spend $4.00 on a card for my mom. I didn’t stand in line at Hallmark, complaining that I just can’t find one that says exactly what I want. I didn’t have to remind my husband to pick one up for his mom either. You see, in the past 3 years, we have lost both of them. We miss them terribly and can’t even easily place flowers on their graves. My mom is buried next to her dad in New Hampshire, 18 hours away by car, in a little country cemetary surrounded by stone walls and green fields, on a dirt road. My mother-in-law is buried in
More than anyone else, these two women made me who I am becoming today. I can’t say who I am, because I am still figuring that out. If you had asked me several years ago, I might have been able to tell you. Now, today, I don’t know. I want to be a peacemaker like my mom, but also someone who isn’t afraid to tell it like it is, like my mother-in-law. I want to love my children unconditionally, like my mother-in-law, but set standards and boundaries for their behavior, like my mom. Both of them instilled in me a desire to care for my home, to love my husband, and to nurture my children. Both of them also encouraged me to grow my gifts, but never at the expense of my family.
These two women showed strength and beauty. Neither of them could be found in a gym or a beauty pagent, but instead each wore a gentle and quiet spirit. They showed strength in their faith. My mom chose to follow Christ, despite the division it caused within her family. My mother-in-law prayed faithfully and daily for all those in her family, especially her youngest son who was still serving in Iraq when she died. As the memories of my mom’s battle with cancer fade, so too does the memory of her body racked with pain and suffering. She took each day as a gift from God and persevered with grace and love.
If you were to ask me what I remember most about them, what I notice in pictures, it is their hands. My mom’s hands were creative, always sewing, beading, and cooking. My mother-in-law’s hands were gentle and healing, for she was a nurse. Both of them could often be found holding a book, as they sought temporary escape from the cares of this life in the stories of others. But most often, their hands were holding a child, their beloved grandchildren, reading, singing, talking or playing. I remember mom’s tender smile as she held my babies for the first time.
We miss them terribly. We wait with great anticipation for the return of our Lord. Heaven is that much sweeter knowing they are there.
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I’m grateful for small places. Having a small house keeps me from getting carried away at the Meijer brand sale and spending more money than I have in our grocery budget. The limited amount of storage requires me to think about everything I keep. Will I really want to put this sleeper on another child or will the other ten or fifteen be enough?
House cleaning doesn’t take up much time. If I am left alone, I can clean the entire house in about two hours. With the help of my five year old and three year old, I can manage to get the bathroom and my room clean in two hours, but I get to teach them how to be mommies too.
The bathroom is my favorite room in the house right now. It is the one place I can keep consistently clutter-free. The counter is clear except for the clock we got for free when the charter schools changed their name, the toothbrush rack full of strawberry shortcake and buzz lightyear toothbrushes, the toothbrush rack with the his and hers toothbrushes that belong to Ray and I, the soap dispenser and the dixie cups. If the medicines or super size band-aid box spills out of the baskets in the linen closet, I can put them away quickly, without creating a space for it. A place for everything and everything in its place actually works here. It is also the one place that stays consistently clean. It doesn’t take much time to swipe the counter or spray Windex on the mirror and wipe off the toothpaste tracks. The floor is small enough that I can sweep and mop in minutes. No excuses here. It is also the place I go when I need to be alone. The linen closet that opens into the hall also has a small door in the bathroom. I can stick my current book or magazine into the closet while putting towels away and retrieve it in the bathroom, with the door closed. That way, the children don’t catch me breaking our house rule of no reading in the bathroom. It’s the room I retreat to when I am on the phone and don’t want anyone else to hear the conversation or I can’t be heard over all the commotion of six people living in a two bedroom townhouse.
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I often think about the wildlife that we miss by being in the city. Friends who live on country roads tell about deer in the backyard, foxes, catching frogs in the creek, and an abundance of other creatures. Recently, however, our backyard seems to be abounding in nature. Unfortunately, it isn't the cuddly, cute nature I might pick!
Last week the children found a very large, very fuzzy caterpillar. They made a temporary home for it in a Gladware container and excitedly showed it to Dad when he came home. The next morning my 6 year old was in tears, as she peered in the container and it wasn't moving. It had made a cocoon over night, a fuzzy webby thing that looked much like the caterpillar itself. Some research revealed it is an American Dagger Moth caterpillar. What we aren't sure is how long it will be in the cocoon. "Harry" is now an honorary member of the family.
Earlier this week, the shouts outside drew me to the back door and they had a small, bright green grasshopper that seemed to be very content to crawl around their arms and hands. Even my usually squeamish daughter giggled when he crawled into her long hair and hung out for a while.
This morning, the now-familiar shouts brought me running with my camera. This time it was a cicada, freshly molted. It sat on an empty paper towel tube left over from wiping down the outside riding toys (a daily occurence recently). His wings were clear, with veins a brilliant green, and his eyes bring new meaning to "bugged out." His old skin sat on the tube nearby.
As we are beginning Apologia's Elementary Zoology course, Flying Creatures of the 5th day, I am thankful for God's provision of bugs (never thought I would say that!) We've also seen the usual chickadees, cardinals, baby robins, woodpeckers, and nuthatches in the trees around the apartment. We don't have to get out to nature. Nature is coming to us.
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Tonight I am praying for the grace to be content where we are. The two bedroom townhouse feels much smaller on hot, humid days. The breeze that briefly slid by while I was doing the dishes has completely died down. The warm bodies of our four children make their room sweaty and stifling, even after bedtime baths and with a fan blowing. And then my three year old asked to be rocked. More about her and rocking another time, but tonight was not a night for rocking. She required much training in obedience today, and I felt the need to rock her, to reassure her of my love with rocking, not just with discipline. So we rocked, both of us trying to cuddle while avoiding as much skin to sweaty skin contact as we could.
Grace in the city...I'm thankful for our country church that has a basketball camp for my oldest to attend...and a ride there and back from another city-dwelling family. I need God's grace to be patient with the outward, noisy human-ness of my neighbors, and the reminder that though I may be of a quiet bent, my heart is also rebellious and noisy toward my Heavenly Father. The neighborhood is noisier on hot nights. No one wants to go inside where the air doesn't move.
Grace in small spaces...Our small space is getting overcrowded with stuff and is showing me my dependence on toys to occupy the children, rather than giving of myself. I've always worked from home, so I've needed them to occupy themselves. But I've missed so much. I cancelled a class I was teaching next week so I have more time to be a mommy. I'm packing toys away so I don't have to spend so much time taking care of our space and can spend more time taking care of the little ones who live in the space. The clutter even seems to contribute to the heat.
God's grace is truly sufficient, when I rely on His strength I can do anything-including be content and cheerful in our small space. This afternoon I was ready to walk out in frustration. A moment of prayer, of giving (once again) our situation into his capable hands, and now I'm able to smile and be gracious.
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My early morning peace and quiet lasted a whole 45 minutes, and I even had time to iron a couple shirts before my house awoke. What a blessing! The thoughts from the second part of my quiet time were different enough from the first that I wanted to keep the entries separate.
After I meditated on I Cor. 13, I began praying. As I did, a dream I had last night came back to me. My mom, who passed away almost 2 1/2 years ago from pancreatic cancer, was in the dream. I couldn't tell you what was going on, except that we were looking at pictures. In the middle of it, I realized in the dream that my mom wasn't really supposed to be here...that she had died two years ago. But I didn't say anything to her. I didn't want her to leave again. As I thought about the dream, I was thankful for it. Thankful that I can still spend time with her...even in a dream. Thankful that my unconscious still remembers her face. And I am thankful for her example of being gracious.
Ask anyone who knew her and two words will usually come out-joy and grace. My mom joyfully stayed married to my dad for 40 years, through 2 business failures, several cross-country moves, and a host of other questionable decisions that would have sent most women to a shrink. Mom went to her Lord, and stayed with Him, even through her battle with cancer. She loved to sew, to knit, to make her home beautiful. But 18 moves in 21 years took its toll and she eventually gave up on getting out the knick-knacks. She never got to use the knitting machine she had wanted for so long that we gave her on her last Christmas. But when she died, I don't think she regretted those things. She wanted only to be a wife and a mom, a faithful follower of her Lord. Her only regret was leaving behind her 3 (soon to be 4) grandchildren, and the rest of her family who she loved so graciously and unconditionally. She never spoke of desiring to reach her full potential, although she was highly intelligent and loved to discuss literature. She was content.
And so, this morning...what grace. In memories of my mom, of her example and a lesson about love. I guess these two entries aren't so different after all.
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Although I have been a morning person all my life, being married to a night owl has begun to shift my biological rhythms. I still love getting up before everyone else, however, and am trying to do so more regularly. It's the only time I have to read my Bible, pray, and write without interruptions. This morning I woke at 6 and could not get back to sleep. I grabbed my Bible, my devotional, my journal and a writing project, and went to couch, trying hard not to step on the squeaky parts of the stairs. No matter how early it is, when my kids hear the stair, they are wide awake. In a two bedroom townhouse with 4 kids, the moments of peace and privacy are few and far between.
Once on the couch I read my devotional (Kay Arthur's "Lord, I give you this day") and then turned to the sermon notes from Sunday to review and read the passage again in I John and noted the prominence of the command to love others. Ouch...like I said yesterday...I don't always remember to respond with grace. So I turned to I Corinthians 13 and re-read the love chapter...and noticed something for the first time. The "love is" passage (vs. 4-6) has related concepts. Paul is a wordsmith, something that doesn't always translate from the Greek. I noticed that Love is patient and kind, and realized that if I am patient with my kids (truly) I will be kind in my words. Love does not envy and does not boast...if I am content with what I have and do not envy I will not boast to others to make me feel better in the face of their prosperity. Love is not arrogant [therefore it will not be] rude. It does not insist on its own way...therefore it will not get irritated or bitter when it does not get its own way.
This may seem like a "duh" moment, but for me it was one of those ah-ha moments that I love to see in my kids' eyes. I was often overwhelmed by the love chapter...all those qualities I don't have. Now I see it as a put on/put off thing (Put off the old man.). If I put on patience...I'll be putting off unkindness. If I put off envying, I'll put off pride. I still can't do it on my own, but I can see how the Spirit is working.
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About 9 years ago, I did a study on Becoming a Woman of Grace. At the time I was praying for a way to stay at home with my 3 month old son and care for my husband of only 1 year 3 months. Do the math...our firstborn was born 2 days after our first anniversary. Not what we "planned" but definitely God's grace. Had I not been "forced" to come home I would probably be pursuing the American Dream rather than God's plan for our lives. Anyway, that study brought a life change for me, as I learned that I can do NOTHING to make God love me more. And I can do NOTHING to make God do what I want. I must, however, rest in Him, accept His good gifts, and receive grace when what He gives doesn't seem so good.
As I look back over the past nine years, I don't always see that I have remembered that grace. And I don't always extend that grace to my husband or my kids, including the three that have joined our family since that time. The idea for this blog came as I realized my need to remind myself daily to look for God's grace in our lives. May it bring glory to Him.