reward

I can tell we need a change of pace.

 Here is the face of a happy boy.  Do you want to know why?  The reward found in obedience.

This week we have been studying insects at home.  Mostly focusing on ants, ladybugs and bees.

"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord and not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward.  It is the Lord Christ you are serving."  Colossians 3:23-24  

A challenge was given at the start of the week.  If Brother would agree to do a hard project (beyond the regular stuff) every day for the remainder of our study on insects, he would be rewarded for it.  He was not told what the reward would be or when he would receive it.  He accepted the terms with a happy heart.  The week included helping daddy dig holes for landscaping in the front yard, helping Mom sort (by family member) loads of clean laundry before I folded them, etc.  He never complained about the task given to him for each day.  He accepted it and completed it to the best of his ability.  Throughout the week I would reference the verse and the words to remember ("I am a wise child, so I work hard").  We would talk about the insects we were studying and thank God at the end of our lessons for the amazing example he gave us in his creation of these tiny hard working bugs for his glory.

Today the kids and I went to Walmart to pick up some ice cream (Do we need a reason?) after dinner.  Brother asked for some toy before we even walked through the door (which is usually unlike him).  We started talking and I reminded him of the week behind us.  How he had worked hard and this was when he would receive his reward.  He lost his mind with excitement.  "I get to have it?" he asked.  "Yes!" I replied with all joy to give it to him.  It cost $11.

We found the anticipated gift and he couldn't stop thanking me for it.  I reminded him that he earned it.  He did the hard work (just like the insects) not knowing when the reward would come and he did it for God's glory.  He probably thanked me 20 times before we even left the parking lot.  My heart was overflowing and my mind was racing.

God asks us all to do the hard thing.  To walk in obedience hanging on to the promise that we WILL receive our reward which will ultimately be with Him in heaven.  We obey Him because we love him and we trust his Word.  And wouldn't you know it but he longs to bless us for our obedience?  In fact it brings him joy to see us blessed.  Because when we obey and receive his blessings we can't help but overflow with thanks to our faithful Father.  He reminds us that this was his plan all along.  If only we would trust him that doing the hard work in obedience would be so rewarding.

So tonight a little boy sleeps clutching an Obi-Wan Kenobi action figure and Freeco Bike (whatever that is...must be from an episode I haven't seen yet).  His Mom sits here pondering all SHE learned from a four year old's school lesson.

I know my reward is in heaven but I also trust that God wants to bless my obedience here on earth.  The hard part can be accepting his task for each new day with a happy heart and completing it to the best of my ability not knowing when the reward will come.

stains on my heart and area rug

My Love is not home again tonight.  Work travel.  I put together an easy meal of shell pasta with red sauce and spinach salad.  Our neighbors returned from their vacation to the beach with souvenir shirts for our kids.  So sweet.  Brother and Sister were sporting them proudly today.  Anticipating spaghetti stains, I told them to wait so I could take off their shirts before they ate.  We do things casual around here.  I stepped over to help Babydoll when Bundle Boy started to take off his shirt and accidentally flung his plate off the table splattering his shorts, chair cushion, area rug below the table and nearby wall with spaghetti sauce.  He was so so sorry.  I immediately started praying out loud for patience and self-control and grace toward my son whom He loves.  

It has been a few days of exhausting parenting around here.  Even consistent consequences haven't seemed to get to the heart issues.  I was hungry and tired and knew that everything within me was not ready for this situation.  He kept apologizing as I took off the rest of his clothes and of course told him it was ok (with a twinge of "I wish you would have waited for me to help you...but I know it was an accident" attitude).  I told him to go to the play room until I could clean up the mess.  He went willingly.  Babydoll got to town on her meal even though she doesn't seem to consistently like pasta.  As I started wetting and spraying and scrubbing the stains, I heard a still small voice whisper in my heart, "Is it more important to clean this area rug or feed your son?"  I stood up to fill a new plate of food being sure to pray out loud my thanks to God that we even have enough food for seconds.  My heart aches for the children who won't eat tonight.  I called in my boy and sat him at the other end of the table.  I got the cream colored seat cushion in the wash while they were eating and using resolve to treat the stain since we were out of laundry spray.  Mental note: add that to the list.  I grumbled as I saw that I had to make room in the washer by transferring a load to the dryer but then saying out loud more thanks when I saw Babydoll's bedding (she had taken off her diaper during nap and wet the bed in her sleep) and pillow needed to be ready for bed that night.  Better to see it then rather than while trying to put them to bed.  I came downstairs to two giggling kids messing around at the table not taking any words of mine serious enough to obey and doing everything but eating.  Dinner was cut short with food still on their plates.  I sent Babydoll to the bathroom and saw her shorts were wet.  She accidentally peed in her booster seat at the dinner table because...  Really?!?!  I herded my two precious gifts from God and said their goodnights at exactly 6:40pm after leaving them with a stack of books on each bed.  They did anything but sleep.  Two hours later and the sun still isn't down but I think they finally got tired of talking through their open doors to one another and drifted off to sleep.  I sat down to feed myself and my flesh and read this post from desiringgod.org and God decided to feed my spirit. 

Sigh. 

Why do I ever take a moment to put higher value in something that is not eternal?  Why do I let tired and hungry feelings dictate my words and actions?  

For the fruit of the Spirit [within me] is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  Anything done by my own strength does not automatically spill out these traits.  Death to self makes Him alive and visible in life.  More surrendering and repentance to be done.

bum, bum, underwear

I have been thinking upon the Holy Spirit lately.  Trying to wrap my mind around his omnipresence and omniscience.  I have heard a particular passage of scripture three times recently.  It wasn't until Sunday morning when it was referenced in our pastor's sermon that I took notice and thought maybe there is something in there that applies to me.

Psalm 121:3-4 ESV

³ He will not let your foot be moved;
    he who keeps you will not slumber.
⁴ Behold, he who keeps Israel
    will neither slumber nor sleep.

There is something so reassuring about realizing that God the Spirit is always with you.  You are never alone.  He NEVER sleeps.  He is with you wherever you are.  Not just on Sunday mornings.  Not just during a storm or trial or crisis.  Not just in the miracle of birth or adoption or healing.  He is with you every moment of every day and longs to be in dialogue with you.  If only we thought about his presence more.  Not only would it alter our behavior and words ("how would you act if Jesus were sitting there in the dark with you?") but it would radically alter our relationship with him.

The other day Bundle Boy asked me an interesting question.  

Him: Mom, is "bum, bum, underwear" pleasing to God?  

Me: (puzzled look on my face)  

Him:  It is the song [my friend] made up and sang the other day.  Do you think it pleases God if I sing it too?

Me:  What do you think?

Him: (shrugging his shoulders) I dunno.

That is when it hit me.  (insert "duh" moment from everyone else wondering why it took me so long)  My son looks to me to tell him how to live his life in a way that pleases God.  He sees me as the interpreter of all things that bring God glory.  Somehow he lost (or never developed) the concept that he could seek God directly if he ever wanted to know anything.  Apparently I was the judge of all things holy in his mind.

It got me thinking.  The only way that our children are going to learn at a young age to seek God's face is if we are doing it all the time.  If I am in dialogue with the Father in the little things.  Do I live in a way that acknowledges that God is always with me?  Am I telling my son "You can talk to God anytime" and then just praying with him at set times of day (ie. before meals, at bedtime, when there is a physical need)?  I want my kids to understand that God is omnipresent.  That He is just waiting to hear us talk to him at any moment.  Oh how I have neglected the Spirit in my life!  I have decided to change that and become a Babbling Prayer Mama.  What's that?  There isn't such a thing?  Well I have created one.  I am going to try talking to God out loud more often.  I want my kids to hear me singing praise and speaking thanks.  I want them to know that I seek God for strength and focus and discipline.  That I need help from the Holy Spirit on a minute by minute basis to be self-controlled and live in a way that pleases God and brings him glory.  Heck, I have no idea if "bum, bum, underwear" makes God smile.  But if Brother learns to ask him before saying and doing anything in this life, the Holy Spirit will give him a clearer answer.  God is the one our children should be living for anyway.  

I couldn't help but notice the two verses that came before the ones I shared above.

Psalm 121:1-2

 I lift up my eyes to the hills.
    From where does my help come?
²  My help comes from the Lord,
    who made heaven and earth.

Isn't God amazing?!?!

 

shots and blood

We have been at the clinic a few times this week. The first time was so Brother could finally get his annual well-child check up. Everything went well. The doctor gave the kids lollipops (which is what they love most about him) and suggested that Brother get some shots after our visit. I had warned him of this very real possibility on our drive in. It has probably been a year or two since he had a vaccine last. And I think I recall the most recent one being a flu shot that I had him get before his sister so he could be brave for her turn (and so he wouldn't freak after watching her scream). We were about to come face to face with his first I-know-what-is-coming shot experience. It didn't matter that I told him that he was getting these shots so that it would keep him healthy. That it would only hurt for a brief moment and that God would heal it. He expected pain, agony. He was nervous. The tech who checked him in cringed when he saw that Brother was in fact getting FOUR shots at one time. Poor Bundle Boy. He was going to have to put on his brave face. Two women lined up their supplies prepared to simultaneously inject him with two and then two more. I had the pleasure of standing by his head and holding his arms down. Babydoll was lucky enough to sit by and watch the trauma unfold before her while she snacked on a cheese stick. Brother squint his eyes and tried to hold it together. I whispered encouraging words in his ear. They wiped his thighs with alcohol swabs and he asked if it was over yet. Not yet Lovey Bug. Then it happened. The sharp pain that made him let out a scream. He thrashed his legs. They stuck him again quickly and then it was done. He cried for about a minute and then was distracted by the stickers they gave him (and his sister) for being so brave. The nurse told me his leg on one side would probably bruise quickly because he jerked suddenly while the shot was being administered. It didn't really matter how many times I told him to remain really still, his body moved in reaction to what was happening to him. We started walking down the hall and I praised him like crazy before breaking the other news. On top of four shots, Brother's pediatrician ordered a lead test that would require his blood to be drawn. He took it rather well but did still opposed the idea. I mean, who wouldn't at least suggest not doing something that we know will cause pain? I sat down in the chair and my firstborn found comfort in my lap. Once again Babydoll took her place in the corner facing the scene. The nurse was really sweet and tried to ease the blow by chatting with him casually at first and then telling him exactly what she was going to do. Meanwhile a couple big field grade officers came and got blood drawn in the same room. They further modeled their patriotic bravery by encouraging a freckle faced red haired boy. I was thankful for their kind words. Attempt number one and the nurse couldn't get the needle into Brother's vein. I wasn't too surprised. The nurse really didn't want to keep trying for fear of traumatizing him so she came up with another method. She had planned to prick his finger and squeeze out drops of blood one at a time until she got enough for them to test. I trusted her experience. Like I did the time before, I held Brother in my arms and turned his head toward me and away from the direct cause of his pain. "Look at me!" I said. He cried with the prick but again the nurse was so reassuring. It didn't take long and he was looking around the room at posters on the walls and talking to other people coming in and out. That is when the real work began. She started squeezing his finger catching drop after drop and scraping it into a tiny tube. The mood was more pleasant now but Brother remained secure in the care of my arms. After several minutes it was almost like he had forgotten what was really happening to him. The process was tedious and draining but it was manageable. Another nurse came in after being asked to come help massage his finger. That is when they noticed. After 10 minutes of meticulously pinching out droplets of my son's blood both collected samples were of no use. They swirled the tubes in the air up toward the light and confirmed that they had both clotted and had to be thrown out. My very first thought was how much Blonde would probably die to be able to have such an inconvenience in her four year old son's regular doctor visits. Oh how we take things for granted! By this point we were in no hurry. They decided to try the vein in the other arm again but gave me the choice of whether to do it now or to come back another time. I decided to push forward so we didn't have to deal with this again for a long time. I turned his head toward me and started singing his newborn lullaby to him in a whisper. "You can cry, but please don't move. Be very still," I said. He let out a loud yelp and the ladies managed to pierce the vein. Five seconds later two tubes were full enough to do the routine tests they needed. The kiddos got more stickers and we were on our way. It didn't take long and the Lord brought my thoughts back to Him. There are chapters of our lives that bring pain. Some come in two swift jabs. It doesn't matter if we know if it is coming or not, we can't expect how it will really hurt. Our first instinct is to thrash and kick and for that it leaves a bruise. We question why anything good could come from something so sudden and even expectantly painful. We think good is wrapped up in lollipops and stickers. But what if we understood that the greater good is found in enduring that pain to prevent something much more harmful? Wouldn't we be more eager to sign up for the quick needle prick as opposed to the long drawn out "illness"? *NOTE: This is not a vaccine debate.* How safe we are in the lap of our Father, wrapped up in His arms. He whispers into our scared faces, "Look at me!" while gently tilting our chin toward his Word and away from the fading cares of the world. "You can cry, but please don't move. Be very still." The pain is real in our hearts. We know it is coming. But there is something about choosing to be still and trusting fully that God has a good and perfect plan for each of our lives. Some seasons of pain are brief. Others seem to linger for years like watching tiny drops of blood slowly filling a test tube. But both are spent in the Father's arms choosing to be still even while crying because our eyes are fixed on Him. Can you even imagine what our Heavenly Father felt when our Savior and Lord, his Son, spilled His blood for us? Overwhelmed.

B-I-B-L-E

I have been thinking a lot lately about our flight home after visiting family recently.  Babydoll was by the window in her car seat.  I was in the middle chair and Bundle Brother took up the aisle on this leg of the trip.  My sister sat in the seat directly behind him.  In the row just ahead of us and adjacent to Brother sat a nine year old boy.  He was very talkative and kind.  He and my Bundle hit it off early in the flight.  The boy sat next to his Mom and four year old sister.  The girls had thicker accents and went in and out of speaking English and something else with one another.  The boy didn't interact much with his family. 


The boy introduced himself giving an Indian name that was hard to understand and immediately followed up with, "But you can call me A-Jax!"  Brother was puzzled by this name but went on to share his name and then adding, "But you can call me B-Jax!"  My sister and I laughed quietly.


The boys shared snacks and talked about super heroes and Star Wars and their favorite toys back at home.  I am not sure Brother has had such a running conversation with another kid before.  Perhaps the captive audience was to his benefit.  He didn't even seem aware that I was there unless A-Jax asked him about a movie or TV show that Brother had never heard of before.  "Mom, have I seen Harry Potter?" he asked.  I lowered my book and answered with confidence, "No."  He relayed the answer to his new friend whose nick name he kept forgetting.

At one point Brother started singing the B-I-B-L-E song over and over again.  I had taught it to him the week before in school.  He rambled off each line.  The boy across the aisle spelled out the letters in his head and then said to himself,

"Bible?  What's a Bible?"

I was stunned to say the least.  Thinking back I probably should have said something, ANYTHING (I know KB would have) but I wasn't involved in their conversation.  I should have said that it was the Word of God and that it tells the story of why we need a Savior and that his name is Jesus and he loves YOU.  But really I couldn't believe the look on his face.  I wasn't afraid of offending his Mom or anything, I just was really that surprised by the whole thing.  How does he not know what the Bible is?  I mean, I guess Brother doesn't know what the Quaran is?  I just assumed though that everyone in America at least knows what the Bible is and chooses to believe it or not.  I would assume that most Americans have not read it in its entirety but they at least have heard of the book before.

I am pretty sure my mouth was hanging open behind my book that I was pretending to read while listening to their conversation.  The boys went on to talk about something else.  I was thankful in that moment that the Lord stirred my social four year old to sing a song about the Bible with all boldness repeatedly on an airplane.  I never dreamed God would use it to speak the name of his Holy Scripture for the first time to the listening ears of a nine-year old boy of Indian decent.

God keeps bringing it to mind.  We are to be the light of the world.  People are supposed to see our actions and hear our words and see and hear Jesus Christ if he lives in us.  I can not longer be so naive to think everyone in the States knows and and some just choose not to follow.  No.  Some, many really don't know.

My life is forever changed. 

gospel over ice cream for dinner

His sister hopped down from the table to leave her cup of ice cream to me (we were sharing) so she could wonder off toward the play place at Chick-fil-A all by herself.  It was an ice cream for dinner kind of day.  We don't have them often.  In fact it was only the second time.  But I have decided with some encouragement from a friend that it is good to throw nutrition out the window every once in a while and embrace junk.  As she walked away from our table in the quiet restaurant, her now four year old brother jumped from his own seat without being asked and said, "I'll help you open the door."  The clock said something that started with a four and there were only two tables that had people sitting in them near us.  Noticably two teenage brothers having an early dinner behind us.  This is the conversation (to the best of my memory five hours later) that followed.

me: I'm so proud of you [Brother].  It pleases God when you help your sister.

He stood in the doorway and preceded to instruct his sister on how to play in the empty play area.

him to her: Climb up there [pointing to the top] and take off your socks and boots and put them in the cubby.

She followed his instructions and then stood at the glass and pressed her mouth against the clear wall for a few minutes.  Meanwhile Brother came wandering back to the table where I sat across from his melting ice cream cone.

me: Thank you for helping your sister, [Brother].  It makes God so happy when you think of others. 

him: (smiling)

me: Do you miss your Daddy [who is out of town for work]?

him: Yes.

me: Me too.

him: What do you miss about him?

me: I miss his hugs.

him: And his kisses?

me: Yep.

him: Mommy you can't do bad things and scream at Daddy.

me: You're right. (gulp)  Sometimes Mommy disobeys God too so what do I have to do?

him: (I forget what he said here)

me: I have to make it right with God and Daddy.  I have to say I'm sorry and ask for forgiveness and choose to please God with my words and actions the next time.  Believe it or not your Mommy isn't perfect.  Do you know who is?

him: God!

me: That's right.  Jesus lived a perfect life.  He never sinned or disobeyed God.  And because he lives in our hearts, when God looks at us he sees Jesus.  Isn't that amazing?!

him: And Jesus died on the cross to save us.

me:  That's right.  So the very least we can do is bring him glory by pleasing him with our words and actions.  Just like you did helping your sister. 

him (poking his finger in the bottom of his ice cream cone): Mom, the bottom of the cone is squishy.

Melted ice cream began to drip from the bottom.  Memories of a scoop of Thrifty ice cream rushed over me.  He handed it off to me and declared he was done while jumping down to join his sister in the empty play area.

Just my two kids in that cold smelly space behind a glass wall joyfully playing together.  Climbing to the top of the structure side by side talking all the way.  Brother would slide down the curly tube slide first usually in some purposely awkward position and holler something up to his sister.  Moments later her tiny body came launching down at full speed backwards and crash into her brother sitting at the bottom.  He burst into laughter and I did too.  Her hair stood on end from the static electricity generated.  They repeated this several more times and after each collision he would turn and look through the window at me and watch me laugh too while giving him a thumbs up.

Not a care in the world.

Not a single fear or burden.

I am overwhelmed by His love for me.

God is always good

Sovereignty is a tricky thing.  We only tend to think about it when things are going poorly.  When life is peddling along great we take all the credit for the happy moments.  God must be blessing us.  But when the road of life takes a sharp turn we suddenly become aware of the bigger picture.  Of course our default reaction is not to praise God in the storm.  But as the fog lifts we see that his plan was perfect all along and had we only trusted him in the chaos we would have experienced his peace rather than our own fear.

I see things differently in 2012.

This week Bundle Brother got a cold.  Then Babydoll.  It wouldn't have been a topic to open my eyes to God's sovereignty except that brother's 4th birthday party bash was approaching on Saturday.  We didn't mention their sickness to our friends and were hopeful that with lots of rest and fluids it would pass before the weekend.  Sister was two days behind his cold so she was in worse shape than her recovering sibling.  Saturday morning came.  Early.  Brother came running in our room at 4am saying through tears about his ear hurting and he needed "earwax" (which is what he calls q-tips).  I gave him some water and Motrin and sent him back to bed.  Three hours later he awoke for the day with healthy eyes.  My Love gave him a hair cut for party day and Brother got dressed in his solider shirt paired over his brown long sleeved thermal and khaki cargo pants.  Things were being disenfected around here. We sat the kids down at the table with our four visiting house guests and opened up a box of Peanut Butter Cheerios that we had picked up to try for the first time.  Bowls were filled and bananas were passed out.  Babydoll started having a coughing attack (like she is right now standing next to me).  Brother burst into tears and complained about his ear hurting.  Our boy has never had an ear infection in his four years of life.  I looked at My Love and asked him if he thought we should cancel the party.  We agreed that in that moment it was the best decision we could make.  Luckily the party was scheduled for 4pm so I was able to let people know early enough so they could still enjoy their day.  

Brother was up in bed again by this time.  I went upstairs and broke the news which we had been prepping him for in the days leading up to this moment.  He took the news very well.  He didn't even seem disappointed.  I came back downstairs and started sending texts and sending emails.  My friend was sitting at the table for breakfast with her two kids  and another mutual friend of ours.  She felt terrible about the colds that her two had when they arrived at our home over a week before.  She thought she was responsible for the cancelled party. 

How could I possibly be upset about it?  God is always good!  Always!  Brother wasn't even disappointed.  It would have been easy to focus on all the time I had spent running errands this past week preparing for the party.  The money spent.  The cupcakes baked.  The decorations we had put up while up late the night before with three of our good friends.  But wouldn't that have made the day about me?  God knows what he is doing.  He was sovereign over the week before while they were getting sick and he remains sovereign today.  I completely admit it would have been more difficult to be so positive had Brother been broken-hearted but he wasn't.  The older I get the more I see disappoints as opportunities for teachable moments for my kids (and myself).  We can have all the plans in the world but God is in control and he knows better for us than we can prepare for ourselves.  

With clearer eyes I started to look at the new opportunities God made from this canceled party.  Two families in particular were making the time to drive down even with other plans before/during.  Now they could fully commit to the other.  Two other families took the time to show their love to me in ways I needed.  One text a pic of the card her daughter had made for Bundle Boy.  Another offered for her daughter to call Brother later in the day to cheer him up.  I was touched.  The other three families live on our new street and were now freed up to enjoy the rare beautiful and sunny day we had.  I thought about each conversation the parents would be having with their child/ren.  Some of them may have been crushed.  More teachable moments.  I thought about the opportunities they were given to spend as a family doing something else.  Then I thought about the people God literally put in my living room that morning.  A close friend who lives states away.  Her husband sat on our couch the night before as we blew up grenade [water] balloons (the party was solider-themed) before driving back into the City for work Saturday morning.  We have been praying for his salvation as his address for the past several months has been in the Afghanistan desert.  He returns for several more months in another week.  I thought about the single friend who spent Friday night sleeping on our couch and was spooning his own PB Cheerios into his mouth as this decision was being made.  We have been praying for his wife for over a year.  He is not married but longs to be.  I hopped on FB as the dust was settling around here that morning and read our friend's status update while he sat on our couch.

"If you are going to really reach your goals in life, sometimes you have to delay gratification. You have to do the tough thing instead of the fun thing, the right thing instead of the pleasurable thing.

Any goal that's worth achieving is going to have obstacles in the way. You need to have a long-term view so, when difficulties come, you can persevere knowing that you are going to get past it.

God's timing is perfect and ours is not. When you find yourself in God's waiting room, just be patient and persistent. A God-given vision will always be fulfilled." ~R.W.

Seriously people if that was the only reason for sick kids and a canceled party, PRAISE GOD!  A few nights before our friend sat on our couch sharing his vision for the new year.  His goals for making changes in his life.  And without out-right saying it, asked us to pray for a new relationship with real potential.

God is always good.

Are you thankful for his sovereignty today?

Brother woke up early again today crying for earwax.  My Love and I had just sat down for our first cup of coffee and Bibles in hand.  Upon inspection My Love discovered dried blood in our son's right ear.  "I can't hear out of this side but I can hear out of this side," he said to me.  My Love got on the phone and scheduled an appointment at a nearby urgent care office on this Sunday morning.  My Love had offered to watch all four kids this morning (since two were still sick) so my friend and I could go to church together.  With the boys off to the doctor that plan again changed.  But God is always good.  And in light of yesterday my first thought was surprisingly to be thankful it was the weekend because My Love was home to take him to the doctor for me.  He just called from the doctore.  Brother has a sinus infection, ear infection, and ruptured ear drum.  He is never sick.

The Enemy keeps trying to shake our gratitude but we stand firm.  We choose to trust our Sovereign Lord even in the disappointing because we know the very near future will include LOTS of disappointing moments.  What will we do then?

More to come...