Deeper Life

Being a Mom Like chirping birds announcing morn' little feet arouse the dawn.  Clanging toys and banging doors, pirates, mermaids and messy floors.  Little voices and owie toes, little sobs crying little woes.  When the day waves its goodbye, and slumber greets the heavy eye  What would I have rather done, than nurture the soul of a little one?

Tears, gut-wrenching pain, stinging rain, hurting, bottling, hurtling, tossing, cheek-burning, soul-churning, silent, wailing, dark, flailing, pain. The precipice, chasm of deep, insanity, sleep. Permanent escape. Hurling through space, tethered to... Laughter, gut-splitting pain, cleansing rain, healing, washing, hurtling, tossing, cheek-burning, soul-churning, silent, wailing, bright, flailing, laughter.

Friday was a red day.  From the moment my eyelids lifted I sensed it coming - and the day did not disappoint. Company was coming, the kids were all energy and I was in an irritable, discouraged, self-pitying mood.  The children each took their turns waving their red flag in true matadorian style. I am not an angry person. True rage is probably the sin I struggle with least. Not this day, though. The house needed to be cleaned. Rounding up the kids to help was like herding a bunch of feral cats. All afternoon I fought off tears; from guilt, frustration and the pain of biting my venomous tongue lest the awful words pooling there leak through my clenched teeth.  Company was coming and I wanted to take the time for more than surface cleaning. Murphey's Law: if I sweep it under the rug, or stuff it in a closet, or fail to sweep under the cushions, or throw it all in a back room,  that is where the company will go and all that I try to hide will be revealed. So the stress mounted as I

Oswald Chambers Challenged me today to take no thought for my life; what I will eat or drink, or what I will wear. It is easy to think that God doesn't understand, or that my cares are not really concerns or worries . Am I truly to take no thought at all? How literally should I take this instruction: Take no thought for your life... Not too literally, I should think. I have to take some thought. I have discovered poor planning costs me more money, time and stress. Responsibility means considering in advance what I am feeding my family. I do not think this is what is meant. Jesus, when he was preparing for the last supper, instructed his disciples where and how to find the room and the meal they were to share. Once again I turn to my children to learn these lessons. It is said that unless we have the faith of a child we cannot enter the Kingdom of God. So I watch them, and they rarely give much advanced thought to what the next meal is going to be. Only when their little tummies a

One of the happenings in our family that gives me cause to pause and wonder about the rules we create for society is how often the children cry foul when it comes to food distribution. We have a 17 year-old male in our family, followed by five females aged 15, 9, 8, and 7 yr old twins. Then a 6 yr old boy and 5 year old girl. It is not possible to determine how much each of these children eat based on their gender or ages. It is not even possible to determine based on their likes and dislikes. Yet, Regardless of whatever factors might come into play, the younger children insist that they all be given equal portions of everything served or it's not "fair". There is, however, one factor that matters, and that is whether or not I am the one serving the food. This is intriguing to me... If I am doling the portions out it better all be the same portions, and they all develop an eagle eye for fairness. If I place the food on the table and they choose what the portions are there

The rallying cry goes forth from the kitchen: "Brownies!" Like a swarm of ants returning to their nest, little ones scurry to the table and find their place among the other wide eyes and salivating tongues. One is particularly energetic; he has been making regular journey's to worship at the brownie pan since the night before. His hopes finally realized, he intensely tracks knife to plate waiting for the turn to be his. At last, one chocolaty-brown-fudge-filled rectangle of pleasure is delivered to the round altar before him, "Hey! She got more than me!" Knife returns. Sliver of brownie transfers from his plate to "hers". Tears well up in light of the horror before him, "You're right. She does. " The protest storm gathers strength as accusations of unfairness threaten to cool the warm motherly winds. I reason my way through his complaints, as best as I can reason with a six year-old brownie worshiper. "I try my best to be equal. L

My husband inquired of me the other day, "Do you remember the fruity pebble incident?" Some family moments become legendary; the fruity pebble incident is one such moment in our family. It began one evening at bedtime: 4 year old dutifully brushing teeth. Father dutifully checking in on brushing four year old notices something amiss in the food pantry as he passes by. Cereal bag, turned just so, opened just a crack, a still small voice whispers to dutiful Father, "Check the brushing child." Momentary argument, "She's already brushed any sneaky evidence away." Still small voice,"Check anyway." Upon inquiry dutiful father is reassured by brushing child, "No Daddy, I didn't sneak into the fruity pebbles. "Are you sure?" After several such reassurances, dutiful father mercifully chooses the bottom of the grave being dug by brushing child. Lo and behold brushing child has indeed left evidence of her sin. There, hidden from her

It is a challenge raising six kids that are only four years apart from each other. Each phase has challenges of its own and requires ingenuity, creativity and patience. Changing diapers and keeping little tots safe in the house was different from the challenge of schooling and chores. I have recently reestablished a strategy that I used when they were young, and it has transformed the way our house is running. When they were small I lived by the "divide and conquer" method. Setting two at various stations (a coloring table, a dress up room, a painting station, playdough, free play...) kept them occupied. We switched every 1/2 hour. That was about as long as their little attention spans could last. I don't know when I stopped doing this, but I have rediscovered it and "divide and conquer" has once again transformed our once chaotic lifestyle into an orderly and productive home. The stations have changed : they are now chores , school and free time . Not only d

I have to confess: my spiritual life has been somewhat lackluster lately. There just didn't seem to be the passion there to keep going. I was being smothered by daily life. Sinking in the quicksand of indecision, I was losing day after day as laundry and dishes and children sank deeper and deeper with me... I wanted God to be my Mary Poppins, to pop in and sing me a song and quickly make it all right and whisk me away somewhere lovely and happy. But that is not His way. He is faithful, even when we are not, and hears our deep sighs.... Without fanfare or umbrella He did arrive one day; in His own fashion He arrived in my inbox. It was right before New Years and Ann Voskamp wrote a piece on the grace of God as he fills in the old tracks we have laid for ourselves and she gave some very prudent advice on how to proceed to lay down new tracks for the new year. Grace covering yesterday's mistakes (yes I like that) and 5 steps to lay new tracks for the new year. No New Year's

Mid morning, house a-buzz with the energy of the day, 5-year- old traces well-worn path to mama's room proudly presenting one of several like-gifts of the day: "Mama, look what I have for you." A page brightly and carefully colored, all 5-year-old. Temptation rises: another color page. I get several a day from 5, 6, 7, 7, 8 and 9 year old. The temptation to minimize her gift fades with the realization of her true gift: eyes meeting I give a little thank-you -for thinking -of -me hug nestled in a word of praise. A moment to show her that she matters to me as well. The gift, if I am present in the moment and not caught up in the chaos around me, is oh so much more than a paper with colors. She is thinking of me. Racing through the day, do I pause and receive the ordinary gifts God gives, the ones I have several of already; meeting His eyes, giving him a little thank-you-for-thinking-of-me hug nestled in a word of praise? Am I present in the moment? Or do I run by and

Discipline : The practice of putting one foot in front of the other long enough to look back and see a trail. I can choose for a moment to do what needs to be done, but to do it day in and day out, with routine regularity, laying down long furrows of discipline - only this will produce a harvest of righteousness and peace... Another short post, but I was here. Day 2

Discipline: The practice of putting off procrastination. The need for discipline is everywhere - in my home, my marriage, my kids, my body, my church - even in sleep. Discipline is not pleasant at the time but painful... The nature of discipline seems to be that it requires some crucifying of me . My flesh must go , Therefore I beat my body and make it my slave... My discipline for today was to write. I have sat down here several times and this is as far as I got. Now it is bed time and nearly not today anymore, so perhaps there will be a continuation as I discipline myself to write tomorrow. These are my reasons for not being here more, too busy tending the Garden...