Heard At my House - The Seven Year Old Theologian Edition

Setting: My two sons, chatting happily much too early in the morning for my liking. I come in and tell them to be quiet, once. Brief silence. Then, they begin the chatting again. I come in a second time:

Me: Boys, it is not morning yet. You are up FAR too early. Everyone else is trying to sleep still. It is time to be quiet now with no.more.talking, do you understand?

3 year old Z: Yes, Momma (in a whisper)

7 year old C: Mom?

Me: *exasperated sigh* Yes. What?

C: Mom, did you know that when Jesus was walking to where he would be crucified that he had to carry his own cross, and it weighed, like, 100 pounds? And once he got really tired from carrying that heavy cross that he fell down under it and the soldiers made another man carry it for Jesus. Did you know that? Imagine, what would it be like to carry Jesus' cross for him?

(mental note: give that kid bonus points for pulling such a great distraction out of his hat at such a dangerous moment.)

Heard at My House - The Four Year Old Theologian Edition

Setting: Sitting around the lunch table explaining that being told in the Bible to call God "Abba Father" is like being told to call him "Daddy".

4 year old T: Mom, God is our *real* Daddy. And so we should not want to disobey him. And so that's why I'm really trying to not disobey.

(mental note to self: grab a tissue and enjoy this moment, but then remember not to use this profession of faith against her the next time she does disobey!)

How I Got Over Myself

Some days are like this, yes? You wake up determined to feel sorry for yourself and all the hard things you need to do. You see the “to-do list” and even as you are scratching one item off, three more get added. The workload of a stay at home, homeschooling mom is daunting. Add to that the burden of those who work from home as well and you have a potential recipe for a pity party. Here is how I have determined to teach my brain (and my heart and my soul) to reconsider this day and the tasks it holds in a way that will leave me rejoicing, rather than pulling the covers over my head in surrender.

Please read the rest of my latest Heart of the Matter Online Article http://heartofthematteronline.com/2011/06/how-i-got-over-myself/

Heard at My House - Best.ever.for.realsies

Setting: 4 year old daughter sitting on the couch, looking at my wedding album.

4 year old: "Mom, mom! Come here! I want to show you something. I want to show you how beautiful you look."

(mental note: buy that kid a pony for her birthday at the end of this month.)

Heard at My House

Setting: 3 year old son setting the table for breakfast. Grabs a handful of spoons. Puts them on the table. Comes back for a second handful.

"Momma. We need more spoons. We have LOTS of kids!!"

Thank you, Captain Obvious.

Heard at My House -- Insect Edition

3 year old: "Momma! There a bug in the downstairs!"

Me: "Cool. Who wants to kill it?"

7 year old boy: "Not me. It's totally creepy. It's like a mosquito crossed with a spider."

9 year old girl: "More like a spider crossed with a scorpion."

3 year old: "Momma! There a bug in the downstairs!"

Me: "Yes, well, I'm busy. I bet one of you could kill it."

7 year old boy: "Hey, A, spray it with the dusting stuff."

9 year old A: "Okay. Look, it just fell off the baseboard into a ball on the floor. Now you can pick it up."

7 year old boy: "No way! It's creepy."

9 year old A: "Ya. Well, I killed it. And anyway, I'm not all that lovey-dovey about picking up dead bugs."

3 year old boy: "MOMMA! I said there a really big 'pider down in the basement and it weally, weally fweaky! It's a big, giant 'pider like this." (insert adorable 3 year old hand motions)

Mental note to self: the chances of any of my children going to Africa to be missionaries is really, really slim.

Wow-ful Women Wednesday

Ah, yes. Here it is: a link to the blog I wish I wrote. I know I usually post a song on a day like today, but this post is so absolutely where I'm at these days. And I believe it will ring true with all my church family and our MATEO dreams. For those of you who don't know what that means, please ask me. I'd love to tell you. In the meantime, read this post by Ann Voskamp, a mom, just like me, who has kids to teach, and words to speak and write,...and seeds to sow.

Read her gorgeous post here.

Heard at My House

Setting: Dear, sweet, lovely little 3 year old man, being tucked in for his nap.


With big, brown, trusting, compassionate eyes, he looks up at his dear mother and says:

"Momma. If the bad guy stabbed me *right here* (pointing to his chest) I would be died, but then I'd be in heaven, right?"

Me: "um. yes."

Wee Boy: "Okay. That's good."

Me: "Sweet dreams?"

Mental note: have a little glance over the Sunday School materials when they come home tomorrow to find out what examples they are using in the nursery....:-)

Foodie Fridays

Sorry, my friends. No video today. (sigh of relief over here!)

But at long last, here is the muffin recipe that I promised my in real life friends:

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Walnut Muffins (come on, now. How good does that sound?)

2 eggs
1 cup sugar (brown or white)
1/2 of a 796mL can of pure pumpkin
1 270g bag of milk chocolate chips
1 100g bag of chopped walnuts (optional, if you have allergies)
4 cup whole wheat flour
1 cup rolled oats
2 tbsp baking powder


Preheat oven to 375F.

Beat combine eggs, sugar and pumpkin. Add remaining ingredients and stir just until mixed. Some flours absorb more liquid than others, so you may need to add a splash or two of apple juice or milk to keep it moist.

Scoop into greased muffin tins and bake for 20 minutes.

This will make 24 muffins. I have doubled this recipe and it works very well. Good to have some extra muffins on hand in the freezer. (Okay, I know some of you are thinking "24 muffins WOULD give me some extra muffins for the freezer, crazy woman!" True enough. Double it and you'll have extra extras!) ;-)

Enjoy!

Heard at My House

Setting: 3 year old son, squinting his eyes really, really tightly.

Son: "Mo-omm (said in a sing-songy way). Can you see me?"

Me: "Yes, dear boy. I can see you."

Son: "No you can't."

Me: "Actually, yes I can."

Son: "No. My eyes are closed so you can't."

Me: "Right. I forgot."

Mental note to self: It might be time to take a course on "Playing Along with an Imaginative Child" and "How not to Crush your child's enthusiasm for Play".

Getting to Know My Kids

Having seven children has done wonders for my memory. There are so many things to remember about kids: Birthdays; shoe sizes; favorite color; what grade they are in (*ahem*); and what color they are wearing when we go to a crowded park so I can pick them out of a crowd like a paranoid mother counting to seven approximately every 3 minutes might need to do (*ahem* again).

But here is what I’ve been noticing lately: I can know things about my child without really, really knowing them. Does that make sense? There are lots of basic facts about them that help me keep health and safety matters in check, but what about knowing them well enough to help them thrive?

Proverbs 22:6 is familiar territory for most of us. It reads: “Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it.”

Good to know. But what does that mean? For some of us it means simply raising them in a Christian home, trusting that once we’ve instilled a faith in their hearts, they won’t walk away from the Lord as they get older.

For some of us, it means teaching and training them according to their specific, God-given gifts and abilities so that they can walk on the vocational path God intended for them.

The question remains, how do we know our kids well enough to point them down that road? I can know their vital statistics and never *really* know them well enough to direct them well.

Please read the rest of my latest Heart of the Matter Online article here. And then, go and get to know your kids! ;-)

Heard at My House

So, how do you argue with this kind of logic?

Setting: Mom in the kitchen making breakfast. Three year old son playing with 4 year old sister in the living room. Lots of "light sabre being whacked on the floor sounds" being heard.

Me: Honey, let's not bang the light sabre so hard on the floor. Let's be more gentle, please

Son: But Mom, I'm getting the crocodiles on the floor that are eating my sister.

Me: Right, then. Carry on.

Heard at My House

Setting: 3 year old boy. Gorgeous. Sitting beside me on the couch while I read a story to him and his sister.

Did I mention he is sucking his toes?

Me: "Buddy. Don't suck on your toes. That's kind of yucky."

Him: "No, Momma. They not yucky. They yummy. And delicious."


(mental note to self: Maybe I should stop telling him that he looks good enough to eat.)

A Spring in my Step

In my neck of the woods today we are experiencing a perfectly lovely day. There is a nice slow thaw with no breeze to speak of, and mostly sunnyish skies. And I was forced to get outside today with my daughter to help her deliver flyers. I'm not going to lie: I felt like helping with the flyers about as much as I wanted to mark my children's math books (oh ya. I had to do that too.)

Anyhow, out we went, and I was prepared not to grumble because I told a friend of mine to ask me later if I grumbled (hurray for accountability). But before I even had a chance to convince myself not to grumble, I caught up with the mail man.

We have a nice mail man. He is always smiling and always has his music turned WAY up and sometimes he sings along. He teases my kids about skipping school on a sunny afternoon. He walks with purpose, but in a sauntering kind of way. He looks like he enjoys his route and isn't in a rush to finish it. I should find out his name and give him a Christmas Card next year.

But, as usual, I digress.

So I catch up with him at a house where I have flyers to put in the mail box and he has, well, mail. He asks me, "Is that your daughter pulling the wagon over there?"

I answer in the affirmative.

He says, "You know what? You have the nicest kids. They are always so polite and friendly and respectful. Your daughter was just saying hi to me. I have 3 kids of my own and so I always notice other people's kids, especially when they are nice."

*sigh*

And so, I remember that the point of my life is not my own agenda, (which, by the way, has nothing to do with much other than drinking tea and reading books today) but raising these beautiful children in such a way as to touch someone else's life and give them a glimpse of joy.

And for some reason, all of this -- the lovely weather, the lovely conversation, the lovely realization, the lovely children -- made me think of this song.

Maybe this is the 80's musical spin on "Bloom where you are planted."

Heard At My House

Setting: Mommy in bed 'sleeping in' until 7:00am (ahem). The bedroom door creeps open as her 7 year old and 2 year old sons peek to see if the clock says 7:00 yet (indicating 'get out of bed' time.)

2 year old son: "Mommy is still in there. Shhhhhh."

7 year old son: (after climbing back into bed, begins to sing) "Ding dong the Witch is dead. Which old Witch? The wicked Witch. Ding Dong the wicked Witch is dead."


Boy, I sure hope for his sake that that song choice was just a really, really unfortunately timed earworm.

Heard at My House -- The Existentialist Edition

A: I just don't know what I'd feel like if I wasn't a person.

Me: Sorry. What?

A: I mean, if I wasn't me, and I wasn't someone else, and I wasn't a thing. I just don't know what that would feel like.

Me: Okay. You need to explain that a little more. Do you mean, like if you were some other person?

A: No. Like, I just think there is a person for everybody.

Me: Do you mean, "a soul for every body"?

A: No. I guess...well, I don't know...I mean...

Me: Do you mean, if your dad and I didn't have you would you still be somewhere else?

A: I don't know. I just mean if, I just...Well, I don't know how I'd feel.... Oh, I don't understand what I mean either.


(mental note: I'm not sure which of my university studies would have been more helpful in this conversation: Psych 020 or a reading of Waiting for Godot.)

Compassion Bloggers

Did you know that it has been a year since Haiti was devastated by its earthquake? January 12, 2010. The devastation was well reported and documented and mourned. But what about now, a year later? What is happening in Haiti? What is being done to help those people recover?

Compassion Canada President Barry Slauenwhite will be on 100 Huntley Street on January 12th to give a report on how Compassion International is making a difference in Haiti.

They are doing a good work. But the job is not over yet. For more information on how you can help with the current needs in Haiti please spend some time at the Compassion Canada Website. And of course, if you are not yet sponsoring a child, there are always children who you could help set free from the grip of poverty.

Building Family Traditions

Sometime near or on December first, our family gets the house ready for Christmas. It has become known as “Tree Day” and it is one of the highlights of our year.

It isn’t anything fancy, really. We go out and buy a fresh tree. Sometimes, we don’t even all go and pick it out together. Most times, my husband goes out, by himself, and with very little pomp and circumstance, brings home a tree. Nothing remarkable about that.

Then we pull out our ornaments and put them on the tree. Now, some families have an ornament for every year that each child has lived, and special ones from special relatives, and memory ornaments of people who have passed on, and some have the crafty ones the kids made when they were little.

We don’t have those.

We have fairly normal, basic, gold and cream ornaments and some ribbon that we wind around the branches. Nothing remarkable about that.

While we are doing the tree, we are listening to Christmas music and eating ‘Christmas foods’. The foods are typically snacky appetizer types that we graze on while we decorate. Chips. Salsa. Cheese. Crackers. Nothing particularly remarkable about that either.

But you know what? This year, my 9 year old said, “I think I like this day almost better than Christmas morning.”

Now that’s remarkable. Why do you think that is?


Please read the rest of my latest Heart of the Matter article here.

What's in a Name?

If you are anything like me, which I'm sure you are, there are times when you just haven't got a foggy clue what you are doing, and you are pretty sure that no one has ever felt as lost as you, and that no one could ever possibly get the disaster your brain is in. Can I get an "amen"? Anyone? Thank you.

I remember one such time. It was way back in the days of "the Townhouse" which is code for "the days when, yes we were living in the townhouse, but more than that it was in the time of life when we had 4 kids under the age of 4, and I was embroiled in my biggest life battle to date".

Someone had directed me to a blog and forum for moms where I went to find someone who understood me. Someone who'd been there. I tried to submit two questions about my state of confusion and exhaustion on the forum. The first they refused to post as it "encouraged something the moderators didn't endorse". So the second question, I made sure to be broad and unoffensive and something that would stir some helpful conversation.

What I said was something like this: "I'm a very young mom. I stay at home with my kids all the time. I love it and wouldn't have it any other way, but I'm really tired. And sometimes pretty sad. Can anyone relate?" What I received back was a bunch of platitudes and "right answers".

"No, I love it! I'm so blessed to be at home and I never feel tired or grumpy at all!"

"No, the joy of the Lord is *my* strength. I sure never feel sad at home at all!"

"Who could ever feel lonely when Jesus is your present help and comfort?"

And you know what? I knew all that. I knew that was supposed to be my reality, but the reality was that I was still tired: physically, emotionally, spiritually tired. My spiritual life was not stagnant. I was not being disobedient, or ungrateful, or rebellious. I had a wonderful husband with a fabulous marriage, and a supportive church. My little children were good sleepers and fairly obedient, all things considered. Life wasn't bad. I wasn't complaining. I was just a busy, tired woman. And no one understood. Or so I thought. They weren't hearing me. They weren't getting me. They couldn't help me.

One day in my quiet time I sat down hoping to hear a word of encouragement in my daily reading. I felt a strange prompting to read 1 Chronicles 3:8. Really? Really.

I kind of ignored it, but it wouldn't go away, so I finally turned to that spot thinking I was probably imagining things. Sure enough, the verse says this: "Elishama, Eliada, and Eliphelet". Nope. Not a word from the Lord. Just a list of names.

I tried to move on, back to my scheduled reading for the day, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was to read that passage again. So I did, and the whole chapter looking for something in the context. Nothing. It is just a list of the descendants of David. I was hoping that those 3 names were not the ordained names for my next 3 children!

Still, I felt like I was supposed to "get" something out of that verse. Finally, I thought to look up in a bible dictionary what those names meant.

Here's what those names mean, and what the Lord wanted me to know that day: "The Lord hears, The Lord knows, and The Lord will deliver."

He understood me. He heard my prayers. He knew my heart. And, as my present help in times of trouble, he would deliver me in his time and in his way.

How grateful I was that day for 3 funny sounding names. And how grateful I am still that we have a Lord who sympathizes with our weakness, and who understands our frailty, and who can speak to any specific circumstance in our day through the Word.

What does the Lord mean to speak to you today? What burden do you need Him to carry for you? He is more than able. And more than willing. And that is a very, very good thing.

An Open Letter to Some of my Daughters

Dear precious, lovely girls:

I have a couple of things to say to you today. They've been on my heart for a while but have been more like "groans too deep for words" that only the Spirit can interpret until now. Finally I feel like maybe, just maybe, I know what some of these words on the tip of my tongue are, and how to get them out. Maybe.

First, let me say that of all our girls you are most like me. I know you know that. You hear it all the time from me, from the grandparents, from folks at church. Here's what you may not know: for years I've been praying that you would be nothing like me at all.

I know that sounds backwards. Most moms love to hear that their daughters take after them. "Oh, she has your eyes", we love to hear. But some of the ways you are like me are things about myself that I have prayed against and struggled with for years.

I have prayed earnestly that the Lord would make you take after your father more than after me. I've prayed that you would be spared the frustration I've worked through struggling over specific sin issues that linger decade after decade.

What I want is for you to have an easier time than I've had in certain areas of life. I want for you to not have to take so many thoughts captive in your head as these lies creep in, shaking your faith. I want for you to know that you know that you know that you are loved by Jesus. I want for you to experience less temptation, less fear, less guilt, less laziness, less pride. I want for you to be like Christ right now, not after a life-long, sometimes slow process of sanctification.

But here is what I have just realized:

If the Lord didn't bless you with weakness, you would never look to him for strength.
If the Lord didn't bless you with pain, you would never look to him for comfort.
If the Lord didn't bless you with sorrow, you would never look to him for joy.
If the Lord didn't bless you with guilt, you would never look to him for forgiveness.
If the Lord didn't bless you with sickness, you would never look to him for healing.

The things that I have hated about myself have thrown me to my knees in prayer, and have kept my eyes fixed on Christ. That is what I want for you. So if that means the Lord needs to make you like me in order to turn you to Christ, then so be it. I'll be on my knees beside you.

Praying for you daily,
Your Mom