Laboring and spinning and worrying, laboring and spinning and worrying, round and round I go. This is precisely how I started my day. Even the flowers of the field know better. My very first awake, pillow-thought was one of worry. Side by side, was another thought I whispered gently and quietly as to not disrupt the morning's peace. "Worry is a sin, the Bible tells me NOT to worry. I am going to read my Bible and counteract these worrisome thoughts."
Why I have elevated worry to a "more holy" sin I am not sure. Do not kill, do not lie, do not worry. I've certainly justified worrying in my life since I am sure it indicates my love and concern for those I love. Right?
Downstairs I went, one step at a time, each a reminder, "Do not worry. Do not worry." After retrieving my Bible and a hot cup of dark roast, I settled down to do a word study on "worry".
My well-worn, much-loved Study Bible has a concordance. I found out today that it ends with "woman". The last entry on the last page. Apparently, along with a few stickers, the last few pages of my concordance were ripped out probably by an awake-much-too-early toddler sitting on my lap with flying ripping fingers. Since I have no recollection of the event, I guarantee I was sleep deprived too.
Worry has been ripped out from my Bible. Thankfully, my mind knew where to go in moments like these. Matthew chapter 6.
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life[a]?
28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
I love the practical nature of this passage. I can actually replace WORRYING with SEEKING! Worry might be natural. But, the lack of worry is super-natural. It is possible with God. Seeking is to be "continually absorbed in searching for something; making a strenuous effort to obtain something". I can do the worry dance or seek Him to care for me. Unproductive vs. Productive. Unlike breathing, both take effort and thought and time. Why not choose the better thing?
For today, I will take a clue from my Bible and its lack of worry. I will thank God for the vivid illustration of worry being ripped from my life. It has no place. For I have a heavenly Father who knows what I need and He cares for me.
I gracefully refuse to dance this worry dance -- a partner I do not need. Instead I will rest in the embrace of His great love.
Mommyontheboysturf with her three sons
Friday, July 22, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
Within Arms Reach
Today was a scorcher even as the sun rose. My morning run like mid-day heat. Hot. Sticky. Our mid-morning bike ride quickly interrupted by, "Can we turn around and go home? I'm thirsty!". The sun's rays darkening the shoulders of my boys before my eyes. Summer is here.
Just moment's later I'm shearing my blondies' heads like hot, sweaty, sheep outside. Instead of falling to the ground, the fresh wisps land on dewy skin, staying put, refusing to fall. The clouds rolled in, the sky darkened and everything stilled.
"I think we are gonna have a storm." Middleson stated. "I'll check the weather." Oldest piped in, always ready to help. Sweaty Babyboy with a big boy haircut sleeping soundly. My almost-dried clothes flapping frantically on the clothesline as if trying to beat themselves dry in record time. The wind awoke.
Oldest and I ran up and down the line tossing clothes and pins in the basket, laughing as we went. Just in time. Moments later, the thunder clapped and lightening flashed. The house, once sunny and bright, dark like night.
Feeling a little frightened myself, I considered Babyboy. He really really needed a nap. Yet, I didn't want him to be frightened. For now the sounds in his dreams drowned out the storms surrounding him. I decided to wait outside his door. Within arms reach if he needed me. If the storm sounded too loudly, I'd let him know mommy was near.
Crouched on the floor, waiting by the door, I pondered other storms I've been through. Real storms. Life storms. The ones that shake you and throw you and toss you about.
I pictured Jesus, just waiting and ready to let me know He was there. Within arms reach. Daddy is near.
Just moment's later I'm shearing my blondies' heads like hot, sweaty, sheep outside. Instead of falling to the ground, the fresh wisps land on dewy skin, staying put, refusing to fall. The clouds rolled in, the sky darkened and everything stilled.
"I think we are gonna have a storm." Middleson stated. "I'll check the weather." Oldest piped in, always ready to help. Sweaty Babyboy with a big boy haircut sleeping soundly. My almost-dried clothes flapping frantically on the clothesline as if trying to beat themselves dry in record time. The wind awoke.
Oldest and I ran up and down the line tossing clothes and pins in the basket, laughing as we went. Just in time. Moments later, the thunder clapped and lightening flashed. The house, once sunny and bright, dark like night.
Feeling a little frightened myself, I considered Babyboy. He really really needed a nap. Yet, I didn't want him to be frightened. For now the sounds in his dreams drowned out the storms surrounding him. I decided to wait outside his door. Within arms reach if he needed me. If the storm sounded too loudly, I'd let him know mommy was near.
Crouched on the floor, waiting by the door, I pondered other storms I've been through. Real storms. Life storms. The ones that shake you and throw you and toss you about.
I pictured Jesus, just waiting and ready to let me know He was there. Within arms reach. Daddy is near.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Better than before
So far, we have had a really great Summer with a great balance of fun, play, and a little bit of keepin'-the-cobwebs-out school work.
Today the big boys were finishing up their first week at VBS. Babyboy and I ran some errands (the difference between errands with 1 child and 3 is amazing) and came home. I set the time for 60 minutes and attempted to race the clock and check off some lingering to-dos. I was completely oblivious to Babyboy as he played happily on the floor. Well, he was playing and writing. Writing with a pen. Writing on a chair. Writing on a white chair. Writing on a sacred, hand-me-down vintage white heirloom chair. And, it is not my chair from my side of the family. It is my husband's chair. Oooooops. BIG OOOOPS!
I kicked into high gear googling, "how to remove ink from white upholstered chair". I wanted to dial 911 or at least let google know this was an emergency and I needed to borrow some extra high speed 4G. Time was ticking and I had to pick up the big boys! Can you feel the panic in my writing?
I had zero rubbing alcohol on hand, but I did have Sea Breeze. Sure enough the first ingredient was alcohol. Like a teenager with acne, I overloaded cotton balls with Sea Breeze and went to work. Sigh of relief. It. Was. Coming. Out. Thank. You. Lord. (Serious prayer of thanks I assure you.)
Since the chair has been in our possession it always had a dingy spot. Since the Sea Breeze was working so well on the ink, I expanded its territory and went for the dark spot. Whoooo Hooooo. The chair looks better than before! If only I had known, I would have applied Sea Breeze much before now. Babyboy's adventure served a great purpose in cleaning the chair.
How many tragedies/problems/trials have I found myself in, flailing to get out and pleading with God to remove from my life. Then, as time goes by I can see that I came out of the trial better than before. The sorrow was a gift. The pain was not wasted. It had a purpose.
This is a song I have been listening to that enables me to define "blessing" a little bit different. Listen to Laura Story's song titled, Blessings.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eOOFAaUGfRE&feature=related
Hubby will be glad to know that the writing on his white-upholstered chair is gone. So is the dingy spot. It looks better than before.
Today the big boys were finishing up their first week at VBS. Babyboy and I ran some errands (the difference between errands with 1 child and 3 is amazing) and came home. I set the time for 60 minutes and attempted to race the clock and check off some lingering to-dos. I was completely oblivious to Babyboy as he played happily on the floor. Well, he was playing and writing. Writing with a pen. Writing on a chair. Writing on a white chair. Writing on a sacred, hand-me-down vintage white heirloom chair. And, it is not my chair from my side of the family. It is my husband's chair. Oooooops. BIG OOOOPS!
I kicked into high gear googling, "how to remove ink from white upholstered chair". I wanted to dial 911 or at least let google know this was an emergency and I needed to borrow some extra high speed 4G. Time was ticking and I had to pick up the big boys! Can you feel the panic in my writing?
I had zero rubbing alcohol on hand, but I did have Sea Breeze. Sure enough the first ingredient was alcohol. Like a teenager with acne, I overloaded cotton balls with Sea Breeze and went to work. Sigh of relief. It. Was. Coming. Out. Thank. You. Lord. (Serious prayer of thanks I assure you.)
Since the chair has been in our possession it always had a dingy spot. Since the Sea Breeze was working so well on the ink, I expanded its territory and went for the dark spot. Whoooo Hooooo. The chair looks better than before! If only I had known, I would have applied Sea Breeze much before now. Babyboy's adventure served a great purpose in cleaning the chair.
How many tragedies/problems/trials have I found myself in, flailing to get out and pleading with God to remove from my life. Then, as time goes by I can see that I came out of the trial better than before. The sorrow was a gift. The pain was not wasted. It had a purpose.
This is a song I have been listening to that enables me to define "blessing" a little bit different. Listen to Laura Story's song titled, Blessings.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eOOFAaUGfRE&feature=related
Hubby will be glad to know that the writing on his white-upholstered chair is gone. So is the dingy spot. It looks better than before.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Growth
With anticipation, I checked on my little garden today. I was hoping for some marked changes -- bigger leaves, longer stems, or new sprouts peeking through the soil. Nothing. My pepper plants look exactly the same as they did yesterday and the day before. In fact, I don't know if they have progressed since I transitioned them outdoors. Will they really really bring forth something edible in the next few months?
Growth is rarely instant, fast, or even measurable. It takes place over time until one day you look back and can finally track measurable progress.
growth (grōt̸h)
noun
the process of growing or developing; specif.,
gradual development toward maturity
formation and development
degree of increase in size, weight, power, etc.
the full extent of such increase
something that grows or has grown: a thick growth of grass
an outgrowth or offshoot
As I pondered my disappointment over my seedlings and my desire to fast-forward or microwave them to maturity, I was reminded of my own children. As the mommy of Oldest, Middleson, and Babyboy my job is to train them and enable them to grow. Training isn't a one time event, it is a process. I need to be patient as they grow and mature even when I don't see marked progress or change or improvement.
Oldest was not even two when Middleson joined our family. But, he suddenly went from our one and only baby to our Oldest and a big brother. I instantly saw him in a different light and expected so much from him! "Grow up and act like a one year old!" MY plan was to have him potty trained and dressing himself by the time Middleson arrived....of course those attempts failed. Five years later, Babyboy arrives and I feel like he gets a mom who has grown and matured. By baby number three, instead of pushing the "hurry up" button, I am pushing the "pause" button wishing I could "rewind" a few years.
Even as an adult, I have not arrived. I have a lot of growing to do! Gratitude overwhelmed me when I thought about God's patience in the midst of seasons in my own life when my growth seemed stunted. Yet, when I look through my journals from a decade ago, I taste the victory!
I have grown. I have matured in Christ. Oldest, Middleson, and Babyboy will too. And so will those little seedlings in my garden.
Growth is rarely instant, fast, or even measurable. It takes place over time until one day you look back and can finally track measurable progress.
growth (grōt̸h)
noun
the process of growing or developing; specif.,
gradual development toward maturity
formation and development
degree of increase in size, weight, power, etc.
the full extent of such increase
something that grows or has grown: a thick growth of grass
an outgrowth or offshoot
As I pondered my disappointment over my seedlings and my desire to fast-forward or microwave them to maturity, I was reminded of my own children. As the mommy of Oldest, Middleson, and Babyboy my job is to train them and enable them to grow. Training isn't a one time event, it is a process. I need to be patient as they grow and mature even when I don't see marked progress or change or improvement.
Oldest was not even two when Middleson joined our family. But, he suddenly went from our one and only baby to our Oldest and a big brother. I instantly saw him in a different light and expected so much from him! "Grow up and act like a one year old!" MY plan was to have him potty trained and dressing himself by the time Middleson arrived....of course those attempts failed. Five years later, Babyboy arrives and I feel like he gets a mom who has grown and matured. By baby number three, instead of pushing the "hurry up" button, I am pushing the "pause" button wishing I could "rewind" a few years.
Even as an adult, I have not arrived. I have a lot of growing to do! Gratitude overwhelmed me when I thought about God's patience in the midst of seasons in my own life when my growth seemed stunted. Yet, when I look through my journals from a decade ago, I taste the victory!
I have grown. I have matured in Christ. Oldest, Middleson, and Babyboy will too. And so will those little seedlings in my garden.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Checka's
Oldest requested a game of Checka's (Checkers) for 30minutesontheboysturf time. In his 8 years he has played more than I have in my lifetime. In fact, I am just learning the game. Today was really my first official game of checkers.
One of my favorite things about Oldest is his sensitive sweet heart. I have story after story that I could share of ants, robin's eggs, and stray kittens. Sometimes I wish I could bottle that sweetness when it would most come in handy -- with his little brothers!
Today, in our Checker's match, we were down to 1 king (me) against 4 kings (oldest). He had tears in his eyes as he jumped my king and won the game. This was after several turns of stalling the finish. He didn't want to see his mommy lose the game.
That makes him a real WINNER in what matters most.
One of my favorite things about Oldest is his sensitive sweet heart. I have story after story that I could share of ants, robin's eggs, and stray kittens. Sometimes I wish I could bottle that sweetness when it would most come in handy -- with his little brothers!
Today, in our Checker's match, we were down to 1 king (me) against 4 kings (oldest). He had tears in his eyes as he jumped my king and won the game. This was after several turns of stalling the finish. He didn't want to see his mommy lose the game.
That makes him a real WINNER in what matters most.
Monday, May 23, 2011
MGI or FBI
Mom Guilt International
Today was our first day of no-schedule, nothing-to-do Summer Break. Oldest, Middleson, and Babyboy all slept until 8:30. Over the weekend I began filling in the blank page of today with projects I have been wanting to complete.
List:
-Go through my coupons
-Thoroughly clean the boys' rooms
-Swap out outgrown clothes for ones that fit
-Make sure every sock in the house has a mate (I've been hearing a lot of, "I can't find the sock that goes to this one."
The weather was perfectly rainy -- the best kind of day for those types of projects. I also announced loud and strong that we would be spending time on the boys turf today.
As the day projected onward like a rocket launch, I was left feeling unaccomplished. I honestly did not want to lose momentum and do 30minutesontheboysturf. Oldest and Middleson were actually quite content to continue building castle kingdoms in the basement. I also knew I would be disappointed if I didn't follow through. So....I asked (hoping they would delay, "When do you want to do turftime?" "NOW!" they both replied. I took that as a cue that my boys really like spending time with me and like my focused attention on their turf.
Oldest wanted to explore tobymac.com Together, we became a fan on Facebook and posted on his wall -- something I would never do. Middleson wanted to check out fbi.gov. After looking at America's Most Wanted, he was sure he recognized one of the men. I see dollar signs as I type! REWARD!
I, on the other hand, was glad I kept my commitment even though I felt guilty about not looking forward to my 30minutesontheboysturf.
As many have reminded me, the laundry will wait....and who needs matched socks in the summer anyway? That is what Crocs are for!
Today was our first day of no-schedule, nothing-to-do Summer Break. Oldest, Middleson, and Babyboy all slept until 8:30. Over the weekend I began filling in the blank page of today with projects I have been wanting to complete.
List:
-Go through my coupons
-Thoroughly clean the boys' rooms
-Swap out outgrown clothes for ones that fit
-Make sure every sock in the house has a mate (I've been hearing a lot of, "I can't find the sock that goes to this one."
The weather was perfectly rainy -- the best kind of day for those types of projects. I also announced loud and strong that we would be spending time on the boys turf today.
As the day projected onward like a rocket launch, I was left feeling unaccomplished. I honestly did not want to lose momentum and do 30minutesontheboysturf. Oldest and Middleson were actually quite content to continue building castle kingdoms in the basement. I also knew I would be disappointed if I didn't follow through. So....I asked (hoping they would delay, "When do you want to do turftime?" "NOW!" they both replied. I took that as a cue that my boys really like spending time with me and like my focused attention on their turf.
Oldest wanted to explore tobymac.com Together, we became a fan on Facebook and posted on his wall -- something I would never do. Middleson wanted to check out fbi.gov. After looking at America's Most Wanted, he was sure he recognized one of the men. I see dollar signs as I type! REWARD!
I, on the other hand, was glad I kept my commitment even though I felt guilty about not looking forward to my 30minutesontheboysturf.
As many have reminded me, the laundry will wait....and who needs matched socks in the summer anyway? That is what Crocs are for!
Thursday, May 19, 2011
School's OUT, Turf Time is IN!
Oddly enough, Middleson woke up with his desire for "turf time" fresh in his mind. I asked him if he had read my "to do" list for today. He hadn't.
I have not been overly zealous with an organized 30minutesontheboysturf for a few months for several reasons/excuses. First, we were finishing school and homeschooling means an excess of togetherness. Secondly, we have done a lot of fun family activities like bike riding, working in the yard, and visiting a local kids museum. Lastly, each afternoon I have been reading books to the boys. (Turf time, but not time on the boys turf....more like time on my turf since I call the shots.)
Still, I knew I needed to re-commit to my original plan. 30minutesontheboysturf, Day 1. I commit myself completely un-distracted, phone-less, computer-less, paper-less for 30 minutes where the boys call the shots and I follow their lead. I engage mentally, 100%.
Summer is the perfect time to do it when the schedule goes out the window and there is more free time. Maybe 30 minutes seems like a long time, but 15 minutes is doable. Maybe 30 minutes 3 days a week if 5 seems like too many. Many non-homeschooling friends found it difficult to find time in the school week. Now is the time! The investment is so worth it.
Today I was back in the cold dark basement on the first day this week it hasn't rained. Middleson had great Lego machines in mind for us to build. He built the mail truck and I attempted a mailbox. Unfortunately, my mailbox was not up to the inspector's guidelines and it was dis-assembled and the Legos are back in the bin, up for grabs.
Here goes, Turf Time, Part II.
I have not been overly zealous with an organized 30minutesontheboysturf for a few months for several reasons/excuses. First, we were finishing school and homeschooling means an excess of togetherness. Secondly, we have done a lot of fun family activities like bike riding, working in the yard, and visiting a local kids museum. Lastly, each afternoon I have been reading books to the boys. (Turf time, but not time on the boys turf....more like time on my turf since I call the shots.)
Still, I knew I needed to re-commit to my original plan. 30minutesontheboysturf, Day 1. I commit myself completely un-distracted, phone-less, computer-less, paper-less for 30 minutes where the boys call the shots and I follow their lead. I engage mentally, 100%.
Summer is the perfect time to do it when the schedule goes out the window and there is more free time. Maybe 30 minutes seems like a long time, but 15 minutes is doable. Maybe 30 minutes 3 days a week if 5 seems like too many. Many non-homeschooling friends found it difficult to find time in the school week. Now is the time! The investment is so worth it.
Today I was back in the cold dark basement on the first day this week it hasn't rained. Middleson had great Lego machines in mind for us to build. He built the mail truck and I attempted a mailbox. Unfortunately, my mailbox was not up to the inspector's guidelines and it was dis-assembled and the Legos are back in the bin, up for grabs.
Here goes, Turf Time, Part II.
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