We have a large convertible. It's a 1966 Pontiac Bonneville. It's as long as a school bus. Okay, maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but just slight. It's very long. And extremely heavy too. I know this for a fact. I know this because I ran over my son's bicycle with it the other day. Didn't even know I was running it over until I felt the last "thump." Whenever you feel a "thump" under your car and you have no idea you've run anything over, panic sets in. Panic as in - "Where are all the children???!!" I was never so grateful that I ran over a bike! I quickly hid the very damaged bike from my son because he was not going to be the least bit grateful it was the bike I ran over.....
You might wonder how this can happen. Me, running over items in my own garage. Well, let me tell you. Getting out of my house by myself with four kids in tow is an extreme sport. By the time I'm backing the car out of the garage I'm so exhausted that I can't see straight.
Don't get me wrong, they're good kids, but something happens the minute I say we have to be somewhere at a certain time. They turn into chickens. Literally. It's like herding chickens. Have you ever herded chickens? They don't herd, they scatter.
That's what my kids do - scatter. I feel like the farmer's wife with her hands outspread trying to coax the chickens into the coop. As soon as they get close to the door they all go in different directions. And squawk! Don't forget the squawking. There's a lot of that going on right before we go somewhere. I must admit, most of it is coming out of my mouth. "Get your shoes on!" I squawk. They squawk back, "We don't know where they are." "Just wear your brother's shoes. We're going to be late," I say. "He can't find his either," is the squawk I hear. "Nobody has shoes??" I ask incredulously. Nope, they're all gone. Right before we need to be somewhere. No shoes. I began searching for shoes. "Here are two shoes; put them on," I say as I hand them to one of my chickens. "They don't match," he squawks. "Wear your long pants, no one will know," I reply. "I can't find my pants," he squawks back.
The farmer's wife is about to lose it. We're running late again and no one is even in the car. I look around at my mismatched children with a sigh, stretch my arms out, and start herding towards the door. "I didn't brush my teeth!" one squawks. "Just keep your mouth closed." I say. "The whole time?" he asks. "Yes," I answer. "I might get hungry, I better go get a snack," one says as she veers out of the herd. I grad her shirttail and pull her back in. "I have to go to the bathroom!" another says desperately. "Make it quick or hold it." I say unsympathetically.
Finally I get all four of my chickens out the door. Ahhh, success. Almost. Now we have the mini van shuffle. I thought that the two sliding doors were a great invention when mini vans came out with them, but now that I have four chickens, err, I mean children, they're not so great. I have just spent 10 years of my life getting them out the door, and now they're going through the mini van like someone yelled, "Chinese Fire Drill!" In one side, out the other. Just like chickens. And they're quick! I can't catch them! I know I used to be faster. My baby climbs in the car and goes to the very back corner and sits smiling at me. "Come here right now," I say as I reach my arms toward him. He sits and smiles. He's just out of my reach even with my dramatic stretching and waving of arms trick. I start squawking again, "You better come here right now, or I'm going to climb back there and get you!" I know what he's thinking, he's thinking, "I want to see her crawl across all the baby seats and car seats into the very back and get me. I'll just wait here." I finally coax him into his baby seat. Then I hide outside one of the doors and one by one catch the Chinese Fire Drillers.
We're already a half hour late, but we're finally on our way. When we pull into our destination my daughter pipes up from the back seat, "Mom, I forgot my shoes...."
My friend sees me and tells me I look tired. "Oh, I've just been herding chickens," I reply.
And one wonders why I run over bikes.....
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Monday, March 3, 2014
I'm "Pooped" Out!
"Honey! Can you come in here?" My husband yelled from the bathroom last Sunday morning. (It always happens on Sunday, you know.) "What's going on?" I replied. "Elijah pooped in the tub!" He said.
"Hmmmm. I'm really busy," I said. "I don't think I can make it in there right now."
"He's picking it up and putting it out of the tub!" Dan said with a little more urgency in his voice.
"I definitely can't make it in there for that one," I gagged, as I quickly busied myself in some non-urgent activity. So glad he picked Sunday to do that instead a day Dan's at work! Whew, close one...
Don't get me wrong, I've done my share of "duties....."
Some days it seems never ending. If the mess is not coming out of them, they are creating it.
Elijah came down the hallway the other day running towards me with a clean diaper in his hand. He was exclaiming, "Wet, wet, wet!" as he ran to me swinging the diaper in the air. "Are you wet, Elijah?" I asked him sweetly. "Do you need your diaper changed?" He just kept repeating, "Wet, wet, wet!" As I reached out to the get new diaper from him, I realized that that was what was wet.
"How did this get wet?" I tentavely asked him. He's not quite three feet tall, so there's not that many places he can reach water. That was what scared me.
He didn't seem overly concerned with trying to tell me how it got wet, so I tried the "show momma" method. He liked that idea and headed back down the hall. Toward the bathroom... "Of course," I thought. "Of course, he got it wet in the bathroom." He happily showed me how he had dunked the diaper in the potty and than shook it all over and down the hall.
I wonder if they make locks for those things....
And then....
We were headed to my sister's house recently to celebrate a birthday. Unbeknownst to us, my sis and her husband were using this event to get both sides of the family together to announce that they were expecting their first child. What a special occasion in anyone's life, right?
When we showed up Elijah was a little fussy saying that his belly hurt. I was holding him, trying to comfort him and keep him calm. We were there barely five minutes when he decided to relieve his belly ache by throwing up all over Pam's kitchen, and me, and my brand new cowgirl boots. Yes, you heard me right, my cowgirl boots.
This is the part where vanity comes back to get you. I know it's strange for me to own cowgirl boots in the first place, but I saw them, I loved them, and asked Dan to get them for me for Christmas. I like them so much, I could almost become a cowgirl! (This is the part where my sisters are rolling with laughter at me.) Okay, so becoming a cowgirl is stretching it a bit, but I do love the boots.
So, there I stood. In my sister's kitchen with puke all over my new cowgirl boots (and her kitchen), seconds before the "big" announcement. The only congratulations I could offer as we quickly cleaned up the mess and left was, "Welcome to parenthood, this is what you have to look forward to!"
And I love every moment of it.
"Hmmmm. I'm really busy," I said. "I don't think I can make it in there right now."
"He's picking it up and putting it out of the tub!" Dan said with a little more urgency in his voice.
"I definitely can't make it in there for that one," I gagged, as I quickly busied myself in some non-urgent activity. So glad he picked Sunday to do that instead a day Dan's at work! Whew, close one...
Don't get me wrong, I've done my share of "duties....."
Some days it seems never ending. If the mess is not coming out of them, they are creating it.
Elijah came down the hallway the other day running towards me with a clean diaper in his hand. He was exclaiming, "Wet, wet, wet!" as he ran to me swinging the diaper in the air. "Are you wet, Elijah?" I asked him sweetly. "Do you need your diaper changed?" He just kept repeating, "Wet, wet, wet!" As I reached out to the get new diaper from him, I realized that that was what was wet.
"How did this get wet?" I tentavely asked him. He's not quite three feet tall, so there's not that many places he can reach water. That was what scared me.
He didn't seem overly concerned with trying to tell me how it got wet, so I tried the "show momma" method. He liked that idea and headed back down the hall. Toward the bathroom... "Of course," I thought. "Of course, he got it wet in the bathroom." He happily showed me how he had dunked the diaper in the potty and than shook it all over and down the hall.
I wonder if they make locks for those things....
And then....
We were headed to my sister's house recently to celebrate a birthday. Unbeknownst to us, my sis and her husband were using this event to get both sides of the family together to announce that they were expecting their first child. What a special occasion in anyone's life, right?
When we showed up Elijah was a little fussy saying that his belly hurt. I was holding him, trying to comfort him and keep him calm. We were there barely five minutes when he decided to relieve his belly ache by throwing up all over Pam's kitchen, and me, and my brand new cowgirl boots. Yes, you heard me right, my cowgirl boots.
This is the part where vanity comes back to get you. I know it's strange for me to own cowgirl boots in the first place, but I saw them, I loved them, and asked Dan to get them for me for Christmas. I like them so much, I could almost become a cowgirl! (This is the part where my sisters are rolling with laughter at me.) Okay, so becoming a cowgirl is stretching it a bit, but I do love the boots.
So, there I stood. In my sister's kitchen with puke all over my new cowgirl boots (and her kitchen), seconds before the "big" announcement. The only congratulations I could offer as we quickly cleaned up the mess and left was, "Welcome to parenthood, this is what you have to look forward to!"
And I love every moment of it.
Thursday, February 27, 2014
More Thoughts on Hailey Owens
I can't get Hailey Owens off my mind. Even without the news and Facebook reminders, I still daily think of her and her family.
"Where is God in all this?" "How can a loving God allow such things to happen?"
How many times have we heard these questions, or asked them ourselves.
As I have pondered this situation a different perspective has come to my mind. May I be so bold as to write it down in black and white:
There is no good in this world, EXCEPT for God. If it were not for God all of our children would be murdered and kidnapped. We would be so overrun with crime that we could never leave our homes. So I say again, "There is no good in this world except for God."
Did anyone notice that it was ONE man that took the life of Hailey Owens, and it was TEN THOUSAND that showed up in support for her family? What about the FIFTEEN HUNDRED bikers that rode in honor of her? Or the MULTITUDE of prayers, money, food, and other donations that many people have made to this family. ONE evil vs. THOUSANDS of good.
Instead of questioning God's goodness, maybe we should be thankful for His presence.
The Bible says, " Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights,"
When Jesus was on earth He never ceased doing good. He healed, He fed, He comforted, He taught, He loved. He was on this earth for a short 33 years, and when He left He said it was our job to do as He did. We are to BE Jesus on earth.
And this is what it looks like - people rallying around a family in the midst of an atrocious tragedy.
People going out of their way to reach out to someone that they don't even know. People caring enough to watch out for their neighbors.
So, while I say this is a horrendous thing that has happened, I say also that God IS still here, and He IS still good, and He is showing His heart through the thousands of people in this community.
May we never cease to do good, and in so doing may the world know that God is real and that He is good.
"Where is God in all this?" "How can a loving God allow such things to happen?"
How many times have we heard these questions, or asked them ourselves.
As I have pondered this situation a different perspective has come to my mind. May I be so bold as to write it down in black and white:
There is no good in this world, EXCEPT for God. If it were not for God all of our children would be murdered and kidnapped. We would be so overrun with crime that we could never leave our homes. So I say again, "There is no good in this world except for God."
Did anyone notice that it was ONE man that took the life of Hailey Owens, and it was TEN THOUSAND that showed up in support for her family? What about the FIFTEEN HUNDRED bikers that rode in honor of her? Or the MULTITUDE of prayers, money, food, and other donations that many people have made to this family. ONE evil vs. THOUSANDS of good.
Instead of questioning God's goodness, maybe we should be thankful for His presence.
The Bible says, " Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights,"
When Jesus was on earth He never ceased doing good. He healed, He fed, He comforted, He taught, He loved. He was on this earth for a short 33 years, and when He left He said it was our job to do as He did. We are to BE Jesus on earth.
And this is what it looks like - people rallying around a family in the midst of an atrocious tragedy.
People going out of their way to reach out to someone that they don't even know. People caring enough to watch out for their neighbors.
So, while I say this is a horrendous thing that has happened, I say also that God IS still here, and He IS still good, and He is showing His heart through the thousands of people in this community.
May we never cease to do good, and in so doing may the world know that God is real and that He is good.
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
A Mom's Thoughts on a Kidnapping.
I'm a mom.
A mom.
Days like today I don't want to be a mom. I almost wish I wasn't. I don't want to be responsible for the welfare of four young children. I don't want to have to make the decisions that might not turn out. I. Don't. Want. To. I want to lie in my bed and scream. Scream that it's not fair. That it should not be.
Life shouldn't be like this.
You see, I have a friend, and she had a niece. A niece that was kidnapped in a town not far from me yesterday and murdered. A beautiful 10 year old girl who will never turn 11.
It's not fair.
I'm scared. I don't want my children to leave my sight. I don't want them to sleep in their own rooms. I don't even want to let them out in their own backyard to play. My son may never ride his bike down the street again. I know it sounds crazy, but I'm spilling my gut here. And this is what I'm feeling.
There's a lump in my throat and a sickness in the pit of my stomach. I want to move. Get away from.... the world.
Then I have a reality check: We live here. Here on this earth. There's nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. No guarantees.
Maybe we could all hide in a room. With the door locked. And no windows. Maybe one of those bomb shelters from the sixties. No one could get in, and we couldn't get out. No one could even see us or our children. We could stay there until, I don't know, forever? And hide. In the dark.
Sounds good at the moment.
"But, what kind of existence is that?" I think. "It's not," my heart says. "There's no living in the hiding. There's no freedom in fear."
"Why did this happen?" Everyone wants to know. "I HAVE NO IDEA!!!" I want to scream. And I don't. And the lump comes back to my throat.
I do know we live in a fallen world. One that's not perfect and never will be until Christ comes and makes all things new. I also know that no matter what I do, I can't guarantee my children will survive tomorrow, or tonight, for that matter. In my heart I know that keeping them in a bomb shelter will only stifle their lives instead of strengthen them.
We were meant to live in the light. We were meant to spread our wings. To try new things and discover. To experiment and explore. To live up to our full potential. To be what HE created us to be.
You can't do that while you're hiding from "what might happen." Neither can your kids. Or mine.
Sometimes "things" do happen. Terrible things. We do our best to teach and prepare our kids, but sometimes they still happen..... Sin reigns on this earth we live on. But the truth is, that's exactly where Satan wants us to be. So scared of the bad that we can't do any good. That we aren't any good.
I don't want that to be me. I want to let my kids enjoy the "sunshine" of this life. I want to trust in Someone greater than myself. I choose to trust that even in the midst of the heartache and craziness of this life that God is still working, and that I have a purpose greater than hiding.
There is NO living in the hiding.
I keep reminding myself that, and I keep praying for this dear family.
A mom.
Days like today I don't want to be a mom. I almost wish I wasn't. I don't want to be responsible for the welfare of four young children. I don't want to have to make the decisions that might not turn out. I. Don't. Want. To. I want to lie in my bed and scream. Scream that it's not fair. That it should not be.
Life shouldn't be like this.
You see, I have a friend, and she had a niece. A niece that was kidnapped in a town not far from me yesterday and murdered. A beautiful 10 year old girl who will never turn 11.
It's not fair.
I'm scared. I don't want my children to leave my sight. I don't want them to sleep in their own rooms. I don't even want to let them out in their own backyard to play. My son may never ride his bike down the street again. I know it sounds crazy, but I'm spilling my gut here. And this is what I'm feeling.
There's a lump in my throat and a sickness in the pit of my stomach. I want to move. Get away from.... the world.
Then I have a reality check: We live here. Here on this earth. There's nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. No guarantees.
Maybe we could all hide in a room. With the door locked. And no windows. Maybe one of those bomb shelters from the sixties. No one could get in, and we couldn't get out. No one could even see us or our children. We could stay there until, I don't know, forever? And hide. In the dark.
Sounds good at the moment.
"But, what kind of existence is that?" I think. "It's not," my heart says. "There's no living in the hiding. There's no freedom in fear."
"Why did this happen?" Everyone wants to know. "I HAVE NO IDEA!!!" I want to scream. And I don't. And the lump comes back to my throat.
I do know we live in a fallen world. One that's not perfect and never will be until Christ comes and makes all things new. I also know that no matter what I do, I can't guarantee my children will survive tomorrow, or tonight, for that matter. In my heart I know that keeping them in a bomb shelter will only stifle their lives instead of strengthen them.
We were meant to live in the light. We were meant to spread our wings. To try new things and discover. To experiment and explore. To live up to our full potential. To be what HE created us to be.
You can't do that while you're hiding from "what might happen." Neither can your kids. Or mine.
Sometimes "things" do happen. Terrible things. We do our best to teach and prepare our kids, but sometimes they still happen..... Sin reigns on this earth we live on. But the truth is, that's exactly where Satan wants us to be. So scared of the bad that we can't do any good. That we aren't any good.
I don't want that to be me. I want to let my kids enjoy the "sunshine" of this life. I want to trust in Someone greater than myself. I choose to trust that even in the midst of the heartache and craziness of this life that God is still working, and that I have a purpose greater than hiding.
There is NO living in the hiding.
I keep reminding myself that, and I keep praying for this dear family.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
A Dramatic Hypochondriac
If you are thinking of traveling to Tanzania to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro..... Think again. It's not there anymore. It has left Africa and planted itself on MY lip!!
In the form of a cold sore, of course....
I asked Dan if he thought it was very noticeable. "Noooooo," was his lying reply. Dan's a terrible liar!! He told me it was really okay, just looked like a Botox job gone bad. Then he laughed. I didn't think it was funny at all. Not only is it a monstrosity on my face, it's extremely painful. I'm talking childbirth level pain. All in one concentrated spot!
Okay, so maybe that whole, "you forget what childbirth feels like" just might apply here.
None the less, I'm thinking a lipectomy might be in order. No lip has got to look better (and feel better) than the one I currently have!
Dan thinks I'm a bit of a dramatic hypochondriac. I beg to differ. I'm just extremely cautious. Extremely.
Take the other day for instance -
Dan came home form work to find several windows in the house open and me lying on the couch. It was around 30 degrees outside, so he naturally questioned my actions in the form of, "Why do you have the windows open, it's 30 degrees outside!!??" "I'm dying of carbon monoxide poisoning, and I didn't want the children to die too." I replied. "You're what?" was his unsympathetic (and unconcerned, I might add) reply. "I'm DYING of carbon monoxide poisoning, and I DIDN'T want the children to die too," I repeated emphatically. He was still very unconcerned about the state of my health. In fact it seemed that he was a lot more concerned that the children were going to freeze to death as evidenced by the fact that he was walking around closing all the windows....... He finally (after the windows were shut) came and stood over me as I lay on the couch and asked why I thought I had carbon monoxide poisoning. "I have a bad headache, dizziness, and I'm sick to my stomach," I told him "Those are all symptoms of carbon monoxide poisoning. I read it on the internet" "Don't you think those might all be symptoms of just a simple virus also?" was his still unsympathetic answer. "Maybe," I said. "But I didn't want to take a chance with the kids, I mean, do you want to come home and find us all DEAD??" He walked away shaking his head. "Where are you going?" I asked. "To stoke the fire." he said.
And then there was the night -
"Dan, I think I have a brain aneurysm," I told him in the middle of the night. (My favorite time of day to share important things.) "Why do you think that?" he asked. I'm pretty sure he was humoring me. He doesn't know what an aneurysm feels like though,,,. "My head just feels weird, and I think it might be an aneurysm," I said. "Okay," was again his very unconcerned reply. I was really worried! "I'm afraid it might explode, and I don't want to die in my sleep." I told him. "Mm hm," he said sleepily. "Well, aren't you going to stay awake, and make sure I don't DIE!!!??" I calmly asked him. "Nope," he said as he rolled over. So, I had to stay awake and make sure I didn't die of an aneurysm myself. That was extremely boring. I finally gave up and went to sleep too.
I still can't figure out why Dan thinks I'm a hypochondriac. But, if I die before morning of this cold sore, I'm sure he will be a bit more sympathetic.......
This is part of poor Dan's "Everyday Life."
In the form of a cold sore, of course....
I asked Dan if he thought it was very noticeable. "Noooooo," was his lying reply. Dan's a terrible liar!! He told me it was really okay, just looked like a Botox job gone bad. Then he laughed. I didn't think it was funny at all. Not only is it a monstrosity on my face, it's extremely painful. I'm talking childbirth level pain. All in one concentrated spot!
Okay, so maybe that whole, "you forget what childbirth feels like" just might apply here.
None the less, I'm thinking a lipectomy might be in order. No lip has got to look better (and feel better) than the one I currently have!
Dan thinks I'm a bit of a dramatic hypochondriac. I beg to differ. I'm just extremely cautious. Extremely.
Take the other day for instance -
Dan came home form work to find several windows in the house open and me lying on the couch. It was around 30 degrees outside, so he naturally questioned my actions in the form of, "Why do you have the windows open, it's 30 degrees outside!!??" "I'm dying of carbon monoxide poisoning, and I didn't want the children to die too." I replied. "You're what?" was his unsympathetic (and unconcerned, I might add) reply. "I'm DYING of carbon monoxide poisoning, and I DIDN'T want the children to die too," I repeated emphatically. He was still very unconcerned about the state of my health. In fact it seemed that he was a lot more concerned that the children were going to freeze to death as evidenced by the fact that he was walking around closing all the windows....... He finally (after the windows were shut) came and stood over me as I lay on the couch and asked why I thought I had carbon monoxide poisoning. "I have a bad headache, dizziness, and I'm sick to my stomach," I told him "Those are all symptoms of carbon monoxide poisoning. I read it on the internet" "Don't you think those might all be symptoms of just a simple virus also?" was his still unsympathetic answer. "Maybe," I said. "But I didn't want to take a chance with the kids, I mean, do you want to come home and find us all DEAD??" He walked away shaking his head. "Where are you going?" I asked. "To stoke the fire." he said.
And then there was the night -
"Dan, I think I have a brain aneurysm," I told him in the middle of the night. (My favorite time of day to share important things.) "Why do you think that?" he asked. I'm pretty sure he was humoring me. He doesn't know what an aneurysm feels like though,,,. "My head just feels weird, and I think it might be an aneurysm," I said. "Okay," was again his very unconcerned reply. I was really worried! "I'm afraid it might explode, and I don't want to die in my sleep." I told him. "Mm hm," he said sleepily. "Well, aren't you going to stay awake, and make sure I don't DIE!!!??" I calmly asked him. "Nope," he said as he rolled over. So, I had to stay awake and make sure I didn't die of an aneurysm myself. That was extremely boring. I finally gave up and went to sleep too.
I still can't figure out why Dan thinks I'm a hypochondriac. But, if I die before morning of this cold sore, I'm sure he will be a bit more sympathetic.......
This is part of poor Dan's "Everyday Life."
Saturday, January 11, 2014
A Quiet New Year's Eve
New Year's Eve. Not a huge holiday at the Van Patten house. We had sick kiddos and a man that's not excited about large parties on New Year's Eve, so we made our own party. At home with our family and an auntie. We made soup, had a Nerf gun war, ate popcorn in the family room, (this is normally a strict no, no) and had an indoor camp out. It was pretty much a perfect evening. The Nerf gun war went well. We set up forts on both sides of the room and shot foam darts at each other. (A pretty common occurrence in a house of mostly boys.) We only had two people in tears by the end of the game. (I told Dan if he would stop crying, I would.)
I picked Disney's "Swiss Family Robinson" as the movie of choice. I thought the kids might enjoy one that I used to like as a child. They did. They got scared, laughed, and talked all the way through it. Oh, and spilled popcorn everywhere. Zack piped up that it could only get better if we drank soda in the family room too. So we did. Memories. We decided we're moving to an island and living in a tree house.
Dan had to work the next morning and Elijah wasn't feeling well, so they opted out of the camp out. The rest of us bedded down in the family room for the night. We watched the ball drop. (Still not sure what all the excitement is about that.) It's not even much of a drop, more of a really slow slide. None the less, we dutifully watched it before we went to sleep.
As I lay on the couch (I did not dutifully sleep on the floor.) I looked out the window and noticed the stars. I can't see them from my bedroom, so it was nice being able to watch them as I drifted off to sleep. I also noticed that I had no one to talk to in the middle of the night. (Dan had probably thought this one through!) It was New Year's Eve though, a time to make goals and resolutions. I decided since Dan was FAR away in the bedroom, I would talk to God.
Instead of telling God my goals for the new year, I asked Him what He wanted of me. What He wanted me to work on this year, which direction He wanted me to go. Sometimes in the silence, when we take the time to listen, God speaks to our hearts. He gave me one word that night, in the quiet of sleeping children and the stars out the window. He clearly whispered it to my heart, "obedience." "Obedience to what, Lord?" was my quick reply. I like clear direction, tell me when and where, and I'm there! The response was the same. Quietly whispered from His Spirit to my heart, "just obedience."
It's a big word - obedience.
As I looked at the stars it reminded me of Abraham. I'm looking at the same stars he did that fateful night when God made big promises to him. Promises of a ginormous sized family, and most importantly The Deliverer. Abraham was also given an instruction of obedience from God. Go where you have no clue and do what you don't know. I just love clear directions like those...... But, Abraham had faith. He believed God And he WENT! With only the stars and God's promise to guide him.
How I loooong for faith like that. Faith to take the unknown step and to fully believe in a God you can't see.
Maybe obedience is the first step to that kind faith. Maybe a promise of obedience is the first step to obedience. Maybe a quiet New Year's Eve is the beginning of a new kind of year for me. A kind of year where God uses me when I obey Him. A year where I'm listening to the promptings of His Spirit and actually doing what He says.
"Abraham believed God, and it was accounted to him for righteousness." Gal. 3:6one
I picked Disney's "Swiss Family Robinson" as the movie of choice. I thought the kids might enjoy one that I used to like as a child. They did. They got scared, laughed, and talked all the way through it. Oh, and spilled popcorn everywhere. Zack piped up that it could only get better if we drank soda in the family room too. So we did. Memories. We decided we're moving to an island and living in a tree house.
Dan had to work the next morning and Elijah wasn't feeling well, so they opted out of the camp out. The rest of us bedded down in the family room for the night. We watched the ball drop. (Still not sure what all the excitement is about that.) It's not even much of a drop, more of a really slow slide. None the less, we dutifully watched it before we went to sleep.
As I lay on the couch (I did not dutifully sleep on the floor.) I looked out the window and noticed the stars. I can't see them from my bedroom, so it was nice being able to watch them as I drifted off to sleep. I also noticed that I had no one to talk to in the middle of the night. (Dan had probably thought this one through!) It was New Year's Eve though, a time to make goals and resolutions. I decided since Dan was FAR away in the bedroom, I would talk to God.
Instead of telling God my goals for the new year, I asked Him what He wanted of me. What He wanted me to work on this year, which direction He wanted me to go. Sometimes in the silence, when we take the time to listen, God speaks to our hearts. He gave me one word that night, in the quiet of sleeping children and the stars out the window. He clearly whispered it to my heart, "obedience." "Obedience to what, Lord?" was my quick reply. I like clear direction, tell me when and where, and I'm there! The response was the same. Quietly whispered from His Spirit to my heart, "just obedience."
It's a big word - obedience.
As I looked at the stars it reminded me of Abraham. I'm looking at the same stars he did that fateful night when God made big promises to him. Promises of a ginormous sized family, and most importantly The Deliverer. Abraham was also given an instruction of obedience from God. Go where you have no clue and do what you don't know. I just love clear directions like those...... But, Abraham had faith. He believed God And he WENT! With only the stars and God's promise to guide him.
How I loooong for faith like that. Faith to take the unknown step and to fully believe in a God you can't see.
Maybe obedience is the first step to that kind faith. Maybe a promise of obedience is the first step to obedience. Maybe a quiet New Year's Eve is the beginning of a new kind of year for me. A kind of year where God uses me when I obey Him. A year where I'm listening to the promptings of His Spirit and actually doing what He says.
"Abraham believed God, and it was accounted to him for righteousness." Gal. 3:6one
Monday, December 30, 2013
A Jesus Errand
Someone said a picture is worth a thousand words. I agree. I'm not going to write a great deal, but you can see a lot through the pictures. It was a blessed day.
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The children and adults of Galloway have the opportunity throughout the year to earn "points" by doing projects for the missionaries there. They do things like clean up their town and help out around the Baptist Church and the missionaries home. They save their points all year long to buy Christmas gifts at the Christmas Store. If not for this opportunity most of these families would have nothing on Christmas morning.
The day we went was the day the children come to redeem their points. They were so precious! They would make a list of all the family members that they wanted to buy presents for. We would then walk around with them and help them choose their presents. After they had chosen a gift for each person on their list we would ask them if they wanted to buy something for themselves so they would have something to unwrap on Christmas morning. They would excitedly pick out something that they wanted for Christmas. After they have chosen all their gifts, they go to the wrapping station where volunteers help wrap their gifts, so they are all ready for Christmas
One young man stood out to me in particular. He was just 13, and had earned 70 points throughout the year. When he came to the "store" to buy his gifts he wouldn't come in. He insisted that his mom and little sister go in to pick out his gifts for him. His mom, wanting to be sure he had a gift to open, picked out a couple of things for him. As I was helping them wrap their gifts this manboy came in to see what had been purchased. He was quite upset that they had chosen anything for him. He stated that he intended his points to be used so his little brothers and sisters would have something on Christmas morning, and that he didn't want anything for himself. This child is fatherless as many of the children that come through the store are, and yet he is somehow learning to be a man.
I was humbled to see that these children who don't know much about Jesus are sometimes better examples of Him then I am. Most of them were way more concerned about gifts for others then they were about gifts for themselves. They know the odds. There's been giftless Christmases before. Still they choose that mom, sister, brother receive something special for Christmas from them before they think of themselves. All I could do as they walked out with their sacks of presents was wish them a Merry Christmas and remind them that Jesus loves them. And how He does! Jesus hasn't forgotten the forgotten. And we can't either. It's OK to be Jesus Crazy.
Note - The only way the ministry in Galloway can provide this Christmas Store is through the generosity of churches and individuals. If you would like to be a part of this ministry, you can reach them at:
Ronnie & Karen Grunewald
P.O. Box 284
Galloway, TN 38036
901-229-3595
or Becky Jackman
901-229-0100
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