grace for tired mommas

I never intended this blog to be about my lack of sleep.  But since my Ever-So-Sweet Anna hasn't mastered the art yet, I guess it's still the topic of the day.

The girl is like an alarm clock.  Yes indeedy.  She knows when the clock will read 10:30 p.m., 12:35 a.m.,  2:35 a.m., 4:35 a.m., and finally, 6:35 a.m.--which lately has been the point at which breastmilk no longer does the trick.  She's up for the day...or at least for a couple of hours.

Did I mention I go to bed between 12:30 a.m. and 2:00 a.m.?

Let's just say Momma hasn't been exactly......hmm, well....spewing words of adoring praise toward her charges lately.  I'm sounding more like a drippy faucet, oft times spewing nagging corrections.  I'm ashamed to admit it.

So when the following conversation occurred a few days ago, I was blown away...by the grace of God.

The Scene--driving to AWANA and talking about our recent hike:

Momma:  "Do you remember the last time we were on that trail?  Momma was hugely pregnant and hot, carrying Anna Grace in the womb still.  Now today I carried her in my arms!  What a blessing that is!"

Daniel:  "Daddy doesn't think babies are a blessing.  That's for sure!" (laughing)  "Do you think we'll have more?"

Momma:  (Wondering how one tells a seven-year-old about vasectomies....a procedure I still don't agree had to happen.)  "Well, I don't know for sure, but I think God might consider me to be too old.  And Daddy too."

Daniel:  "But if we did have more, wouldn't you be happy?  Aren't babies always a blessing?" (I've said that many times...he's regurgitating.)

Momma:  "Oh, yes. I would be happy.  And Daddy loves his children very much, Daniel.  He just has a hard time with the crying and the waking.  You feel loved by Daddy, don't you?"

Daniel:  (laughing) "Well.....most of the time."

Momma:  Insanely curious as to what he would say, I tried this:  "Do you feel loved by me?"

Daniel:  (laughing) "Oh, yeah!  Every single minute and second I do!"

Okay, you Mommas.  Remember this.  We aren't perfect.  God still has chiseling to do on us.  But our deeply-felt love for our children?   He makes sure that comes through.  Loudly.  Grace abounds for tired, stressed-out Mommas.

Hallelujah.

And I know.  Don't say it.  I need to go to bed earlier.

blessings

Time to count some blessings:

1. Another awesome homeschooling playdate today.  Weather was again perfect for hiking--at a new park this time.  The children all waded in a lovely stream, looked for wildlife and thoroughly enjoyed each other's fellowship.  A new child, Elizabeth, age 7 (and her dad) joined us.  Elizabeth is another tomboy--a child after my Daniel's heart, much like Faith, the four-year-old who joins us every time.  Only Elizabeth is Daniel's same age and she's more verbal and outgoing.  Possibly the perfect friend for him.  She collects as many creatures as Daniel and loves nature with the same intensity.

Her dad owns a toy shop; please say a quick prayer for him.  Business is poor right now, due to the economy.  He is struggling to stay open and had to recently apply for a credit card to get his car transmission fixed.  Ouch.  We can so relate to his struggles right now.  God brought our two families together right now for a purpose, perhaps?  Absolutely, I think.  We can lend a listening ear, help take Elizabeth to activities, and have her over for playdates.  It's a divorce situation, and dad is trying to homeschool her while continuing to run the business.  She doesn't get as much social interaction as dad would like to provide.

2.  I've mentioned that my husband probably has ADHD or ADD?  He loses things frequently and needs help getting out the door with glasses, keys and wallet in hand.  His inattentiveness means that he leaves knives within the kids' reach, forgets to lock the door at night, leaves the kids outside too long without supervision, leaves our two-year-old on the potty and forgets her....etc.  He helps a lot, but I always have to be paying attention.  I have to do a lot of checking.   ADHD/ADD sufferers (kids AND adults) are commonly deemed lazy and irresponsible, by unknowing outsiders.  Yes, an adult should know to put wallet/keys/glasses in the same place every time.  It shouldn't be an issue before every outing, but it is.  It's easy for me to get extremely irritated at all the ways this brain disorder makes my husband seem childlike.  But God doesn't allow that.  Don's dad couldn't take it (didn't understand it) and the two of them had a horrible relationship.  God doesn't want that unhealthy pattern repeated between Don and me. So he gave me a son who struggles in related areas (less inattentive but more impulsive).  Thus, I have an understanding of my husband's struggles.  Most of the time I see these two not as the rest of the world sees them, but as God sees them.  I can look for the glasses or keys for the millionth time and hand them over with a smile, knowing that my husband is doing his best.  I look at him and I don't see lazy or irresponsible.  I see unique, godly qualities.  It's a privilege to extend grace toward my husband.   It's a blessing that he extends it to me, everyday.  My marriage is a blessing--such a rock in these troubled times.

3.  I helped in AWANA at church the last two weeks.  Timothy is in my class this year (Sparks K-2), along with Daniel.  It's the first time I've seen Timothy in a classroom situation.  He's a very good boy!  I wanted to scoop him up tonight and squeeze the stuffing out of him--I was so proud!  Daniel has his wiggle, tapping, and voice-volume issues, and needs to remember not to sit next to someone he'll talk to, but he is mostly good as well.  They enjoy the lessons and activities, which are very well thought out.

Tonight the main teacher held up a piece of paper with a magnet behind it and a paper clip in front of it.  The paper clip was being moved around by the magnet.  The lesson was that we can't see God--like the paper clip can't see the magnet--but we can still be (must be) subject to his lead.  Such visual demonstrations are valuable for kids like Timothy, who need to see, see, see to comprehend.  AWANA is a blessing!

4.  Another blessing that's come out of this bad economy has to do with my increased ability to extend grace toward strangers.  Before, I was quicker to judge things I just didn't understand.  The school I taught in for nine years comes to mind a lot now.  It was a low-income area, with 90% of the student body receiving free lunch/breakfast.  The teachers--me included--had a tendency to look down on the parents for failing to do any homework with their students, come to conferences, remember needed items, get rid of lice quickly, etc.  We were easily irritated by what seemed to be blatant irresponsibility.  Many of them didn't even work, or they were among the working poor (working part-time or full-time for a low wage).

Now that we are doing creative math with our checking account--juggling two part-time job paydays with partial unemployment disbursements--to get the mortgage and utilities paid and keep the meals coming, my eyes have been opened to how hard daily life is for the economically disadvantaged.  Routine things take a lot longer to accomplish.  You can't mail a bill because you don't have money for stamps...or you need groceries but you can only get a few things, until payday.  You live on a day-to-day basis, spending more time shopping, bill paying, checkbook watching, etc.  Nothing is simple or routine.  There is a steady stream of financial issues, partially because you can't afford to do things well, or ahead of time, like fix that car properly, deal with that roof issue, buy clothes that last, buy resume paper, have enough gas to get to the interview, etc.  I could go on and on.

We have God to lift us up and give us hope, but those families I worked with as a teacher didn't.  Reading to their kids once a day was the last thing on their minds.  They were just trying to survive.  They couldn't get rid of lice quickly because buying the lice-removal equipment and having the quarters for all the extra loads of laundry was just too much of a burden.  (No, my kids don't have lice...just an example.)

I'm deeply, deeply ashamed for every minute I spent judging them.  No, I was never rude or even short with them; I behaved professionally.  But my heart wasn't soft. There was no there-but-for-the-grace-of-God-go-I sentiments.  They should be trying harder, I thought.  We all thought it, at that school.  Shame on us!  We had no idea!  They were in a state of constant stress, with no hope of improvement.  It wasn't temporary hardship due to a bad economy--it was a way of life.  Some of them had never known anything different.

Passing judgement is folly.  Always.

a telling breakfast

At the breakfast table:

Momma:  "Timothy, since you're almost six now, I think you need to try milk with your cereal, as well as other new foods.  It is easier and faster to eat cereal with milk, and it tastes better.  We're starting school on Monday and breakfast needs to go faster."

Timothy (in aggravated, whiny voice):  "But I don't like milk!" (He only drinks the Nestle Quick kind of chocolate milk.)

Momma:  "I know you get scared about trying new foods.  When you're scared, ask Jesus for help with bravery.  And I will start praying more about your diet.  You are missing too many fruits and vegetables.  They help you live with less pain and less suffering."

Timothy:  (Whining) "But I don't like Jesus anymore.  And I don't like doing that Bible study anymore.  I stopped listening.  Jesus makes me feel like I always have to work.  I want to play all day!" (No, I didn't make this stuff up.  This kid is wrestling with God.  What a telling statement his last one is (in bold).  We all want our own way, don't we?)

Momma:  "I see a lot of evidence that you love Jesus.  And I see evidence every day that Jesus is working in your heart.  What about when you dance with Mommy, to the Jesus songs on the radio?  That makes you so very happy!"

Timothy:  "But I can't see Jesus."

Momma:  "Faith is believing in things we cannot see.  God puts faith in our hearts.  You don't have to try to believe.  God will do the work."

Timothy:  "But I don't believe in ANYTHING I can't see!" (Man, he's precocious, I'm saying to myself.)

Momma:  "It's true that we don't see Jesus.  But we see evidence that he is here.  When Daniel aggravates you and makes you so very mad, you are patient with him and you always forgive him quickly.  That is God--the Holy Spirit--working in your heart.  On our own, we don't forgive people easily; sometimes we don't forgive and forget at all."

(He was still listening intently, so I kept going.) "And when a caterpillar turns into a beautiful butterfly, you can see Jesus through that.  Something as wonderful as that doesn't happen by accident.  The world is too beautiful and too perfect to be an accident."

"The comfort Jesus provides us is another bit of evidence that he exists.  We can only comfort ourselves in ways that don't last--like with a new toy, a piece of chocolate cake, a cold drink, or a blanket.  Jesus comforts us in our hearts and minds, and it lasts--if we don't get distracted from him.  And he provides for our needs."

An aside:  If you're wondering why some people starve to death, I think the answer is that God put enough food on the earth--he continues to do so--but we fail to share it.  We don't do our part.  It's a mystery why God allows us to continue to turn our backs on the hungry of the world.  Governmental corruption in starving countries certainly contributes--the logistics are complicated.  We can't put a military presence in every corrupt country.  But we can send more food via missionaries, via planes, etc.  More can be done, even though some of the food will end up in corrupt hands. Just feeding hungry people makes it more likely that they'll rise up against the corruption--on their own.  We can even contribute more to the starving in our own country--via food banks, soup kitchens, etc. I submit to you that we are too comfortable.  Sometimes, being comfortable is wrong, but only insofar as it blinds us to another's hunger--whether that hunger be physical or spiritual.  

Just being somewhat uncomfortable for the past several months has opened my eyes greatly.  I welcome more discomfort.  I don't want blindness.  I suspect God is growing me into a missionary.

Timothy:  "But I want to see him."

My preaching ended there.  Timothy is a mathematician.  A scientist.  He might always struggle with belief.  There's no doubt in my mind that he loves Jesus; the last six months have brought too much evidence.  Just the fact that he is uncomfortable--from the workings of the holy spirit, no doubt--is strong evidence.   Spiritual growth is never comfortable.

The most important task now is to make sure the Gospel of grace is getting through.

final exams

Daniel's first-grade portfolio review is on Monday afternoon. A credentialed teacher will look at all his work and sign a statement indicating he is working at his ability level. I then send that signed statement to our school district late this month, with a list of the curriculum I'll use and the subjects I'll cover in 2009-10.

We're in the throes of final exams, much to Daniel's annoyance. No, they're not required. I just like the concept of final exams. In terms of writing a report card, they have more value than chapter or unit tests for the home-taught student. Chapter and unit tests are valuable mainly in deciding when to move on to new concepts. If they don't still know the tested concepts at the end of year, did they really learn them--or were they just covered? Final exams require comprehensive review that helps a student make cognitive connections that may have been missed earlier. The learning is then solidified, leading to mastery.

While his grades will be mostly B's, his attitude pretty much always stinks. I'll be giving him a U for unacceptable in attitude (he tantrums). It isn't the work; he enjoys learning and he genuinely likes the curriculum. It's sitting still instead of being outside that he hates, or sitting still when his siblings aren't. However, if his siblings are working nearby, they distract him.

Even with medication he struggles mightily to pay attention. When I look at the body of work he's accomplished this year, I see the grace of God staring back at me. It isn't Don's or my effort, or even Daniel's effort. It's grace. My dear son struggles to pay attention to even a simple, five-minute explanation--no matter the method. His eyes wander horribly. I was reading recently that ability to pay attention improves for the ADD/ADHD sufferer when eye therapy is used. Training the eyes to stay focused is most of the battle. Interesting, no?

Anyhow, much needed rest will happen after Monday. We'll take a couple weeks off, then start second grade. They are actually excited about starting their new curriculum!

Daniel really needs the steady routine of year-round school to help him control himself. Routine is everything. He normally finishes in a few hours, spaced over the morning and early afternoon. Plenty of mental rest is built in, and the frequent physical exertion he needs is easy to facilitate--except during the snow months. We won't go there. Suffice it to say that I am praying for gym-membership money.

Timothy will be schooled consistently this year too--his official kindergarten year--although I don't have to do anything formal with the school district. Kindergarten isn't actually compulsory; age six by a summer cutoff date starts compulsory education. He isn't six until November.

An Exchange

You know your math-loving five-year-old is under the influence of the Holy Spirit when you have this exchange:

Mommy: "Timmy, we're going to a church event. Time to get changed."

Timothy: "What time do we have to be there?"

Mommy: "Four o'clock."

Timothy: "But we can't!" That's what time Cyberchase is on!"

Timothy: Ten seconds later - "Oh, but Jesus is more important than the TV. I know that."

We make parenting mistakes frequently--especially in the area of saying too much around the kids about our stressers. Learning to control the tongue is the hardest thing most of us have to deal with, at least in the area of self-control. It's so nice to be reminded that God's grace is always there--making the best of our imperfect parenting efforts.

I guess these guys will turn out fine after all.

as simple as

I am running out of contact lenses and haven't been seen by an eye doctor for over two years. We didn't have any vision insurance through the school district, so we kept putting it off. Today I was seen by a Walmart vision center doctor. He was quick, witty, and very nice. Seeing that I didn't have any insurance, he discounted the exam fee. I told him thank you, but was embarrassed to say anything more. Next week I go back to tell him how I like these new contacts, and then I'll give him a thank you card, with the words I couldn't say to his face.

People without vision insurance are everywhere, so it isn't like my situation is unusual. But he cares. It probably costs him to care, but he does it anyway. He wasn't from our area. I drove 30 minutes to get this available appointment, so I would have new contacts as soon as possible, and so that I could get these errands out of the way before Don starts school. God knew that this man was the man I needed to see.

Although this whole job loss thing is nerve-wracking, it IS exciting to see what God has planned next. Somehow he always ensures that we make ends meet, even though there are so many variables, and so many purchases that seem pressing. The sprinkler I bought for the kids wasn't pressing, and at the time I felt guilty for being weak. The kids are spoiled--no doubt about that. I am a generous person, and the flip side of every strength is a weakness. Generous people are more likely to spoil their kids, which is a big negative in a lot of respects--taking years and a lot of discipline to reverse. We are making headway on this; I know this because when we come upon a good deal at a garage sale or at a thrift store, Daniel tells me excitedly, "Jesus blessed us today!" Amen to that. He is learning that the world and everything in it belongs to the Lord.

God must understand that there will be purchases like sprinklers; since he blessed me today, maybe the sprinkler was okay with him--either that, or his grace prevailed.

Our van has over 150,000 miles on it, and now that Don's car is grounded, we are putting more miles on it. There isn't going to be money to get a new used van anytime soon. When I let it, this situation worries me. I want to be able to use the van to extend the children's education--beyond the border of our home, and our books. When God works things out like he did today with the doctor, it helps me remember that my troubles are not lost on him. He knows how many miles are on the odometer. Of course he does.

I saw Glenn Beck's new book in the doctor's waiting room, with the doctor's name stamped on the front cover, and the words "office copy". Seeing this book, I wondered before meeting this doctor if he might be a Christian. When he quietly told me he was discounting the price already given to me, I knew. Yes...he knows the Lord. And maybe he has been where I am, at some point in his life--causing him to extend compassion. Being down on your luck can lead to a huge buildup of compassion. Not an everyday type of compassion, but a burning compassion. Probably one that you never really lose touch with.

Whatever your financial situation is, don't let it weigh on you. God knows all the figures, and he knows how many days of life are left on your water heater, on your furnace, and on your vehicle. Just delight in Him. It's as simple as that.

But God

You wouldn't believe my conversations with God lately. Or on second thought, maybe you would. Maybe yours are similar.

It's like we're throwing a baseball back and forth, God and me. It goes something like this:

Pam: "God, you wouldn't believe how hard it is to get any kind of schedule going--which my children need--with Anna's sleep being so unpredictable. One day she needs a nap every two hours, and the next she isn't tired until 2.5 hours. One time she'll sleep an hour and a half in her crib, and the next day--at roughly the same time--only fifty minutes. It's really hard God. And yet I keep getting messages--I think from you-- that a schedule (and consistency) is in order--mostly for Daniel's sake. Isn't that the message, God?"

God: "Yeah, Daniel needs a schedule. You need a schedule. But just wait."

Pam: "But God, what do you mean wait? What is the purpose for the wait? If a schedule is good, then why not right now?"

God: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

Pam: "But God, won't we be much better parents if we have more opportunity to set schedules and insist on consistency in chores, etc.?"

God: "Leave the results up to me. Do your best, but leave the results up to me."

Pam: "But God, everything feels so loosey goosey right now. It feels so inefficient--so haphazard. That can't be good. It's kinda sorta driving me INSANE!"

God: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

Pam: "But God, my headaches, Daniel's hyperactivity, Rosey's feeling that she doesn't get enough time with me, Timmy's feeling that he doesn't get enough hugs, Don's feeling that he doesn't get enough--um--you know. All that can be improved with a schedule. It seems so INSANE that we have to wait! Why can't you just regulate her sleep times? Doesn't that make more sense? I can even spend more time in the Word, if you do regulate her sleep. How 'bout it God?"

God: "The whole problem is that you are trying to achieve in your own strength. Lean on my power and on my strength. I am looking out for your kids--for your family. You are not wholly responsible for how everything turns out--with them, or with anything else. I am."

Pam: "But God, then why do you speak to me about schedules..about consistency in training..in teaching responsibility? Why bother with that, then?"

God: "You need those things for a time that is to come. That time is not today. Wait. Trust me and wait. Sit at my feet. Enjoy. Lean and glean."

Pam: "But, God. How do I let go? How do I rest? How do I pull a Mary, when I'm a Martha?"

God: "Ask me to order your days, your hours, your minutes. Ask me to put your mind at rest--at ease. Get to the end of yourself. Now and everyday...get to the end of yourself. What if things were smooth? What does smooth accomplish, in the grand scheme of things? Do you know what happens to people when things are smooth? They get further and further away from me. That's what happens. Rejoice in the absence of smooth! REJOICE!"

Pam: (Singing out in joy and surrender now) "My God....is an awesome God! He reigns from heaven above. With wisdom, power and love! My God is an awesome God!"

God: "That's the way. Worship me. Delight in me. Sing your heart out in joy to me! Know that I am your God....your father....your salvation...your rest...your answer. I am your answer to everything...today and always. So REJOICE, my child. REJOICE!"

half-empty or half-full

Are you a glass-half-empty, or a glass-half-full person? And is your husband the same, or different?

Yesterday morning, after a spill on the dining-room floor, I started singing my joy song--only with a desperate, trying-not-to-cry kind of voice. You see, the children's 2% milk had spilled on the dining-room floor at least five times in the last seven days. It is NOT fun to clean up, and sweeping and mopping in there isn't easy; so many things have to be moved out first, and so many little feet banned from the room for the duration of the clean-up. I've tried getting up the spills with just dry towels and then wet towels, but a film is always left on the floor. The wood-floor mop is the only thing that gets up the film.

Anyhow, Daniel said to Daddy in response to my song: "Isn't it nice, Daddy, that Mommy counts everything as all joy? I really like her songs."

Now my husband is a glass-half empty kind of person. I don't mean to put him down in saying that. He is a wonderful man and has more of a servant's heart than I do. It's just that his natural bent is to NOT look on the bright side of things. When I am overtired and not feeling charitable, his half-empty mindset drives me insane. Otherwise, I don't think about it a whole lot.

I could immediately tell that Daniel's comment both irritated him and surprised him. The surprise was from the fact that Daniel didn't seem to mind (or catch onto) my desperate--rather than joyful--tone of singing. The irritation was probably from the fact that he knew Daniel may have been comparing Daddy's grumpiness to Mommy's new-found, but-sometimes-feined, outside joyfulness.

I felt sorry for Don. My joy songs are a source of irritation to him, I fear. He has for years been asking God for a filling of the spirit--for a joy that surpasses all understanding. I think it is much harder for the glass-half-empty personality to hold on to joy. All the adversity we've experienced in our ten-year marriage has wearied him a bit. The children--especially Daniel--take a lot of emotional energy out of him. He loves being around his family and doesn't want to pursue, or be pushed to pursue, an outside outlet. However without such an outlet, raising kids is much harder for a man. There is a balance. Some men are forever playing golf in their leisure time, and that isn't good for the family. I think when he was working full-time, that was enough of a separation for him. He was happier and more relaxed then, whereas right now he is going through a lot. I can't explain it to the kids; they don't know that he lost his main job. We've only told them that he is looking for a better job, and that he will start a computer school soon.

Our pastor recently preached on joy, and Don talked with him afterwards about setting up a meeting to talk about that pursuit in Don's life. I went to the church yesterday to sign the boys up for a Friday day-camp, and I ran into the Pastor. He asked how we were doing, mentioning that we had really been going through things lately. I told him that we were fine, and that the unemployment led to Don receiving a grant for some training in the computer field, which would probably turn out to be a big blessing. I explained that Don had pursued a ministry education in the past, and that it hadn't led where he'd wanted it to, and as a result Don has lived with job dissatisfaction for a very long time. Pastor said he was looking forward to talking to Don. And he added, "It will be fun. I enjoy that." This was completely genuine. Our Pastor is a very joy-filled man. I'm so grateful for him.

And my heart hopes that the meetings between these two will lead to Don understanding--and being able to capture and keep--joy in his heart. I know he is a saved man. This doesn't have to do with that. It's more of a personality bent--a self speak--something that I think one can be trained to possibly change, with God's help.

I don't mind sharing Don's burdens. He has to share mine too, whether he wants to or not. It's an inevitable part of marriage, and something that ultimately draws a couple closer--if they use grace to get past the irritation. My tendency towards nervousness and anxiety gets to him sometimes. I sense he is worried that I won't be able to handle all four kids on my own, while Anna is still taking lousy naps. My answer to that is prayer, prayer and more prayer, and telling him to go in peace and let God work it out with Anna.

I'm trying everything and her naps are still too short. God will HAVE to intervene on her behalf. If it's a case of reflux and lying flat causes her pain, than God will have to address that--although when I place her in a reclined infant seat, her naps are only slightly longer. My doctor only prescribes something for reflux when the baby is spitting up so much that she isn't gaining weight. Anna is gaining well.

If I accept her thirty to fifty-minute naps and then put her down more often, she has a lot of trouble drifting off at all--like she is wired and over-tired. When held, she sleeps four hours over three naps during the day, and this leads to good night sleep. With the shorter naps, she wakes up super early in the morning, and has trouble sleeping the rest of the day.

But I really can't complain too much, because I absolutely adore watching her sleep and feeling her sweet body against me. She will be my last baby, thanks to Don's recent vasectomy. Today she got up on all fours, and I kissed her and hugged her in congratulations. But then I thought--wait a minute--my last baby is about to crawl away from me, probably in less than six weeks! Yikes! Not fair!

I don't know why this is so hard for me. It happens to every woman, after all. There is always a last baby. Anna will hopefully nurse well into her second year or beyond--delaying the pain for Momma a bit. Every stage has its joys, I know. But cuddling and nursing babies is the ultimate for me.

Maybe I'll run a baby daycare when my children leave. One never knows.

A Burden on My Heart

The Reverend Franklin Graham has gone into North Korea for humanitarian reasons more than once. He leads Samaritan's Purse, which does Operation Shoe Box (aka Christmas Boxes). Rev. Graham said the situation in North Korea has deteriorated since Obama took over the Presidency. He was not blaming the new President--only talking about the dangers of the rogue regime, and the desperate need for an envoy. Governor Richardson (New Mexico), who has experience with North Korea, was suggested by the Reverend as an envoy. In his opinion, the two journalists who were sentenced to 12 years hard labor are currently a distraction for us--although he feels sorry for the two women and asks that we pray for them. He thinks what we should be focusing on is getting Korea to back down from their nuclear program. In doing that, we can also work on getting the two women sent home. He asked for prayer for our President regarding these matters.

I also heard unbelievable things about how labor camps are run in North Korea. Prisoners are literally starving in these camps. Even children must perform hard labor, and some of the tasks assigned to prisoners are meaningless. When they want to kill someone, they do it through labor, rather than directly. Prisoners eat bugs, mice, rats, snakes...whatever they must eat in order to survive. Only a small portion of corn meal is given to them for food.

The last thing I want to do is sound preachy here, but I'm just so sickened that this rogue leader is allowed to treat his people this way. Sanctions imposed by the UN, as well as just awful economic conditions, have caused even regular citizens to starve. The leader has no heart. Evil incarnate he is.

Please pray for the people of this country--that they would know peace, that they would know freedom, that they will know a satisfied stomach, in their lifetime.

Please Lord, give courage to America..to other countries as well--who can help. This leader needs to be taken down, Lord. Please, make it happen. We can't save the world, true. It's too expensive; American is broke. But this regime just can't be allowed to continue to exist. Provide the money, Lord. Provide the brave people. Provide the deep-seated repulsion in people's hearts for this regime. Make your voice known Lord!

And for those in the prison camps--most of whom are likely there for the wrong reasons--sustain them Lord with your spirit. Make yourself known to them. Give them a joy that surpasses all understanding. I believe in your power Lord. Even someone who has only corn meal and mice to eat, Lord, can have their spirit transformed by you. Show yourself in mighty ways through this whole situation.

A Child's Garden...Like Parenting? And Photos

The tomatoes are here. At least they are until Emily Rose gets out of our sight and pulls them up. We will also have peppers, radishes, peas, yellow squash (tasty on the grill), pumpkins, and lettuce.

Gardening with children is a humble reminder of what parenting is like. The children don't keep rows straight, they make hills for pumpkins and then accidentally put squash seeds in them, they step on areas already planted, and they over water, or forget to water.

But God, in his abundant grace, produces plants and blooms, and finally, fruit, out of the children's labor. It can only be his grace--for we all know crops fail without proper upkeep. But I can tell you that every year, despite the sloppy techniques, our garden produces--to our surprise--and to the delight of our children.

It is much the same way with our parenting. We stumble everyday, and yet God produces fruit from our labor. That fruit is a child who grows up to love him--to follow him. It can only be God's grace.
Our main man, tending to the garden, and praying that his tomatoes survive our toddler.
The peppers are here, chosen by Timothy, who will never eat them. Mommy and Daddy and Daniel will enjoy them in a chicken fajita dish.
Daniel, sitting and contemplating God's bountiful gifts. Or at least I hope he's contemplating that. lol


Getting into things--my favorite pasttime.

"You're going to rescue me--I hope?"

Can you believe all the fun this toy provides?
For fun..
I like to..
get into things!

My Timothy - "I'm too big for this toy too."
A rare still moment for Emily Rose.
Momma: "Would you like me to read that to you, Rose?"
Rose: "No! My do myself!"
Welcome to my calisthenics class. Here is a thigh exercise I highly recommend.
This will strengthen your glutes.

P.S. Certainly there are no guarantees that our children will grow up to be Christians. But I want to think God brought the comparison to my mind for a reason. He knows I worry too much!

Character Holds on to Hope

"Character holds on to hope." I love that. It is certainly true that hope is something we can embrace or reject. I believe it is a gift of God, rather than something we produce of ourselves. By embracing God's gift of the cross--his greatest gift--we open ourselves up to freely receive all his other gifts. Still, like the cross, we have the free will to embrace or reject.

God...help us to let go of ourselves--get to the end of ourselves--so we can come daily to you, in joyful receipt off all your offerings.

Don's journey to attend computer tech school--a journey he stumbled upon seemingly by accident, through unemployment--will be put into the hands of committee sometime this week. He feels he has a servant's heart (very true), and answering employee need for tech help fits into that framework. While he doesn't pretend to have a brilliant technical mind by any stretch, he enjoys troubleshooting and developing relationships with people, one day at a time. He will enjoy the mix of people and machine. The machines will appeal to his logical, linear side, and the people to his connection-oriented, relational side.

He poured himself out to Lord, looking for wisdom--for direction. Along came the WIA grant, and later--after more prayer for specific direction--the computer field. All we can do in these situations is pray and wait. The outcome is in the hands of God. There is some concern that they will not award a $10,000 grant to someone who already has education. He did his best to address that concern in the personal letter (appeal) component, so now we wait..remembering that character holds on to hope.

Supporting a six-member family on a custodian's salary is really no longer possible, no matter how much we cut out. Now is the time for God to show that if you allow him virtual control over the womb, he will provide the "how", both in monetary terms, and in grace. The grace I will sorely need, in order to take over solo with the kids, once school mixes with work for Don.

One of the things that must happen before Don exits the house for most of the day and evening, is for Anna to be able to sleep safely in her crib, without a lot of help from me. The safety of the rest of the children demands this. My urgent prayer is that this won't entail "crying it out". For that would break my heart. And God knows that. Each time I sit here and write now, I place Anna in her crib behind the computer, providing opportunity for her to learn self-soothing techniques. This time, it worked. I hear her steady breathing, finally. Praise God!

Now for the short post that prompted my own post - from Howard Butt, Jr, of the HighCallingBlog:

In February 2003, Evelyn Husband lost the love of her life. Her husband, Rick, was on the Space Shuttle Columbia. Minutes before landing, it disintegrated, and everyone on board died.

In the wake of her husband's death, Evelyn began to see how every challenge in her life had fortified her for the next. Infertility and marital difficulties had built spiritual muscles that would help sustain hope during her life's greatest heartbreak.

This is Howard Butt, Jr., of Laity Lodge. The Apostle Paul tells us that suffering prepares us. It teaches perseverance, which produces character. Character holds on to hope. And hope, the Bible says, will not be disappointed . . . in the high calling of our daily work.

...we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character ; and character , hope. And hope does not disappoint us... (Rom. 5:2-5 )

Gliding Through

Question: What time in the a.m. do the birds start their sweet, all-is-well-with-my-soul singing?

Answer: Exactly at 5:00 a.m.

Question: Why do I know the answer to that?

Answer: Anna Grace, the very beloved one, awoke at 3:20 a.m. with a runny nose. Not enjoying mouth breathing, she got hysterical and cried. She continued her I'm-so-tired-I'm-beside-myself fussing for much of the next three hours, sending Mommy into the playroom to finish the night so as not to wake the other three. Daddy had already gone to work.

Toward morning while listening to the birds during Anna's oh-so-short catnaps, the voice in my head said this: "How will I manage on 2.5 hours of sleep? Will I holler at the kids? Will I feel well enough to do the gardening we planned? This is such an awful bummer! Dear God, have some mercy! She doesn't like mouth breathing! I think we've got that message loud and clear. Let's have some miraculous snot-drying miracle. Please!"

At 6:30 a.m. the snot dried up (suction-gathering blue thing was useless) and she slept until 7:30 a.m., in a nearly upright position on my chest. And I finally shut my eyes and drifted off.

Until Daniel, the talkative one, come into the playroom to start his day at 7:30, waking baby and ending the sleeping spell she was under.

I write this to illustrate the miraculous way God's grace works for Mommies everywhere. Somehow he helps us glide through our days, despite the angst of our nights.

Looks like no gardening today. Daniel and I made up this rhyme:

Rain, rain you sil-ly head,
We wan-ted to weed the gar-den bed.

Rain, rain you make us sad,
but the flo-wers you bring
they make us glad.

Enjoy your Saturday!

The Natural World

Romans 1:20
..since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities - his eternal power and divine nature - have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made...

Daily life is hard right now for many people. The number of family-related homicides is alarming. First it was one per week, then a few per week, then one per day. This weekend, it has become more than one per day. Most of the perpetrators have histories of instability, and like the rest of us, they have typical complications and frustrations going on in their lives. Adding a recession or job loss to the typical complications makes tragedy more likely.

I have contemplated requesting an anti-anxiety med for myself during this period of upheaval. However, doubting whether such meds are compatible with nursing, I've resisted making an appointment.

Instead, what helps me tremendously is getting in touch with the physical world. The above passage tells us that the physical world proves God's existence.

When I see the bulb flowers blooming, and look forward to the dozens and dozens of tulips our previous owner planted, I am uplifted. I am assured that tomorrow brings something new and glorious.

When the promise of a new day spills through the window in the form of sunlight and chirping birds, I am propelled forward - a smile on my face.

When the spring weather brings out energy-filled, happy-go-lucky children, I'm under the spell of their laughter.

When my son's newly-caught frog croaks in the wee hours, I am reminded of carefree summer days - my children dancing around the sprinkler, running after butterflies, insects, frogs - sporting only bathing suits and Popsicle-stained mouths.

As I'm driving around, passing green fields, daffodils and ponds - catching the sun's rays just right - I'm filled with peace.

God is always there, his glory displayed before me.

When life gets this messy, and prayers go unanswered, my mind begins to doubt his very existence - but only until I look out.

My prayer this Sunday morning is that we will all go outside, and let God's glory overwhelm us. Out there, we find joy, hope and promise.

But for the Grace of God

I occasionally get insomnia. It runs in my anxiety-prone family, especially affecting the women. Last night it seemed that short of cancer or another death-sentence diagnosis, things around here just couldn't get any worse. I was awake contemplating quitting my affiliation with the Republican Party, and questioning why my baby couldn't sleep without being attached to the breast.

Anna is becoming more and more like Timothy was, in terms of sleep. I gave him what he needed, and he's turned out extremely bright (for whatever reason), so I have a deep dread of putting Anna or our family through a cry-it-out regimen. On the other hand, if I let her nurse every hour or so for two years, how will that affect the other children, indirectly? Emily may have gone through a period like this at four months, but it didn't last. She ended up a very good sleeper; I'm trying to be positive about this phase. With the alarm going off at 2:15 a.m. for Don, I feel like I have to try even harder to get Anna back to sleep fast. Which means, roll over and give her the breast pronto! The binky rarely works to quiet her during the night. I'm certain she's not hungry; she's more than doubled her birth rate in her first four months.

Timothy, also an occasional insomniac, was similarly affected last night, although I hope it wasn't over something so deep as his political affiliation. I finally gave him Benedryl at 4:30 a.m., to no avail. He will have a rough day, I fear. Daniel appeared to have a cold yesterday and coughed frequently last night, so perhaps Timothy is just on the verge of becoming ill. Anna is sneezing today.

When light broke through this morning, I was so grateful for it! Everything seems rosier in the morning, no matter how awful the night was. Light is renewing, refreshing, truthful.

Recently I figured out how to add a Google tracker to my site (a huge technology leap) and discovered that 110 visitors come to this blog. 14% come randomly from keyword searches and appear to bounce out right away. Since that's more people than I ever imagined, I guess I should give a heads up on political or public-policy posts, since some find them so boring. Bounce out now if you hate politics.

I will be writing an e-mail to a few Fox News commentators, including Bill O'Reilly. My feeling is that the reason so many people hate Fox News is that they don't display enough sympathy toward the disadvantaged. Right now especially, many people are finding themselves on public assistance for the first time. We will, in another month, need Medicaid insurance for our kids. I feel awful about it, and am fearful of the looks I will get from medical staff, clerical staff, etc. Will I get a compassionate look from Democrats, and a haughty look from Republicans? Do I have to pray for a Democrat receptionist? I have a lot of anxiety about this, and I feel some Americans need to have God drop them in the middle of Africa so they can see how much of the world lives.

The arrogant Washington D.C. protester I mentioned yesterday said she didn't want to help anyone pay their bills. What about food? That is a bill, and I gather it makes up the bulk of entitlement spending, with Medicaid being second. Should single moms and their children, who undoubtedly make up the bulk of welfare rolls, go without enough food and without regular checkups? Not giving them a good start (I believe there is a five-year limit) means that someday they might end up collecting entitlements as adults.

I don't feel ENTITLED to free health care. I don't look at it as a right, but since it is available, I feel I must do what is best for my children. We've gone to God about this, and before signing the paperwork we will also seek counsel from our Pastor. It appears from our view that obtaining coverage for the children is a must. The Pastor might be able to direct us to Scripture that points to a different answer.

In this recession, we aren't the only people having to make decisions like this, and to hear people say such cold-hearted things makes me want to be an Independent, rather than a Republican. Nasty Republicans give the Christian Right a bad name. People tend to lump Republicans and Christians together, for better or worse, and I want to separate myself from that element of the Party.

I don't agree with people being bailed out of their mortgages. Apartments are usually plentiful, and although it is terribly sad, moving to an apartment isn't the end of the world. Not having enough money for immunizations, medications, and check ups is another story, as is not having enough food.

I feel top wage earners already pay too high a proportion of the tax burden, which has lead to wide-scale cheating. They shouldn't be asked to pay even more of the burden, so that most of the country can enjoy lower taxes. The Fair Tax, and term limits for Congress, seem to be the best solution to many of the country's woes. I'll do an informative post on the Fair Tax soon.

My letter to the commentators will only point out that many people watching are having to collect entitlements for the first time, and while watching Fox News, they are made to feel like petty criminals. The impression given is that if only people would be more "responsible", they wouldn't find themselves needing an entitlement. They need to try harder to distinguish people like the Octomom, from people who find themselves in circumstances beyond their control. Sadly, I feel she may have allowed so many embryos to be implanted because she knows multiples born early often have disabilities (three of her older children do), and that she can collect disability checks for each one. I may be in error in suggesting this, but by all accounts, she appears to be a greedy opportunist. Emotional problems may be at the root of it, but that doesn't excuse her behavior, or her doctor's. She is trying to copyright her "Octomom" nickname, so she can take advantage of other lucrative offers. The whole thing just doesn't set well with me, although I'm glad she will probably earn enough money to take care of her brood. That still doesn't guarantee that her eight babies are going to have enough loving arms to go around - ensuring proper development. Studies show that babies need at least three hours of holding a day.

Undoubtedly, she and her children need our prayers, more than our criticism. I'll stick with prayer from here on out.

This post doesn't solve any problems, but it sure makes me feel better to get these things off my chest. Maybe tonight I'll sleep better.

It's an old cliche, but the statement, "There, but for the grace of God go I", is one we can all use right now. Perspective. We all need it. And we need it often.

Anna and Emily - Instruments of Grace

Emily Rose and I enjoy special alone time during her bathroom breaks. I never thought I'd say this, but I really look forward to potty time! When she's older and more independent, I'll sorely miss our finger rhymes, songs and conversations. Her words are shown below, but reading it just isn't the same as witnessing her happy-go-lucky, exuberant personality, as she converses. I can't even describe how she feeds our souls. Sure - there are little fits at times - but her sunshine and energy far outweigh them.

Today, we were counting fingers and toes. Afterwards, she said:

Emily: "I four" (pointing to herself, eyes glistening)

Momma: "Really? I thought you were two?" (smiling)

Emily: "No, no, I five." (laughing)

Momma: "Really? Yesterday you were two." (laughing)

Emily: "No, I four." (Puts her fingers out, trying to make four)

Anna Grace is spending more time smiling and cooing, and less time crying. She, too, is just pouring the joy into us. There's no question that God knows what we're going through with the job hunting. As the weeks tumble by, there are fewer and fewer posted jobs. We have our moments of despair, but then one of our lovely daughters pulls us right out of the slump. I JUST KNOW IT'S GOD! By having the girls delight us at just the right time, he's reminding us that he's there, with a divine plan.

Things seem SO hopeless, with Don's limited job skills, and the logistics of getting short-term training in an area that would bring adequate pay, with health benefits. I can't imagine what possible plan he has to get us out of this, but I KNOW he has one. That's what keeps us going - our daughters, His instruments of grace - and the knowledge that He has it covered.

We're trying to make the best of joblessness, knowing that few men have this much time with their families. I'm really enjoying having Don around more; part of me thinks God knew I needed help desperately. Having all four of them at once had really become overwhelming. Of course it won't always feel this way, but with Anna's fussiness and failure to sleep alone, these months since her birth have been the most challenging of my life. Was a nervous breakdown coming? Did I have more than I could handle? I wonder sometimes. It is MUCH more manageable now, with Don home in between his job-hunting errands. He tries to run them during Emily's naps, and I help out with online applications at home.

We've both wondered if a new job will come at precisely the time Anna settles into a crib-time nap schedule. Emily Rose made the transition around 5.5 months, with me only having to nurse her and put her down drowsy. I'm sure there were times it was more challenging than that, but they don't stand out in my mind. Even now, Rosey is a dream to handle, in terms of sleep. Daniel was fairly easy - but that Timothy! He was attached to me, in our bed, for naps and bedtime for a full two years. He still remembers nursing, which just amazes me. He didn't stop until he was 2.5 years old, when I was about ten weeks pregnant with Emily. I know his primary love language is physical touch, so I attribute his extended nursing and co-sleeping to that fact.

I read a story today about a four-month-old baby who perished, having been left in a daycare van. It was 50 degrees outside, so the cause of death is under investigation. These stories are always hard to read; I immediately put myself in the mother's place.

After reading the story I pleaded with God to allow me to stay at home. Somehow, I had a peace about it hours later. Possibly just wishful thinking, or more reassurance from him that he has it covered. I'm no poster mom, but I'm far better at this than I would be at anything else. This is my niche.

Need Perspective Today?

Take a minute to click on the "Exploring Holland" blog, featured right. There is a quick video of Shannon's daughter singing "The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow". If you need perspective today, this video is it.

Let Us Rejoice

I've met another mom! Check out the Suiresphere blog, on the sidebar, authored by Stephanie, who is a working, pregnant mom, residing near Dallas. She has a two-year-old daughter. It will be grueling in another eight weeks, when her bundle of joy arrives. She'll need your support and love. This is my second time handling a two year old AND a baby. Quite a juggling act, no matter how much you prepare beforehand.

Last I wrote about TV, recall that the boys were newly required to earn their viewing time, by keeping the playroom and their bedroom clean. It's working beautifully so far, to both curb screen time, and keep the house neater.

Wanting to cut down their viewing even further, I added a second tier to the arrangement. They now have to stay within a one-hour-per-day limit. Timothy, who is a strongly visual learner, is having the harder time giving up the visual stimulation. Daniel, more auditory and tactile, has had an easier time finding other pastimes. Last time I had a fussy baby, the boys watched too much for a three-month period, and Timothy had a similarly tough time with the withdrawal.

Anyway, don't think I'm hinting that your kids should cut down; I think the Lord extends grace for these survival-mode parenting times - especially when there's no extended family around to pitch in. Lately, however, he's made it clear to me that it's time to move on.

Our temperatures have risen, so outdoor play is on their radar again. Unfortunately, just as we've hit the fifties and low sixties, rain has arrived, for a four-day stay. Emily and I are singing "Rain, Rain, go away, fun-filled Emily wants to play."

But, praise the Lord for the beautifully greening grass, and the good-sized tulip shoots. It's all good. "This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it." Who cares if the unemployment rate hit 8.5%? Think about how God is feeding the tulips, and how engagingly he'll dress them. And he treasures us even more!

Not Expecting Visitors/Speech Therapy

Emily Rose was evaluated today, and once last week, to see if she qualifies for speech services. They had to go through a whole battery of tests. She scored as high as possible on fine and gross motors skills, and on problem solving. That's why, in my view, she needs constant supervision. She's very capable, independent and industrious - meaning, she can't be trusted in any room, except maybe the playroom. She can unscrew caps, open doors, open boxes and such, and she figures out ways to climb up and get into anything.

Her receptive language (what she understands) is excellent; there is quite a discrepancy between her receptive and expressive (what she can say) skills. She qualified by one point, and will attend a toddler school two days a week for 2.5 hours, during which she will learn through play with ten other two-year-old students. A speech teacher is present (along with a classroom teacher) and pulls students for one-one-one work each time.

I am grateful she qualified. She's very social and LOVES the outdoors. After she gets used to being without Mom, she'll have a blast. They get the kids outside quite a bit for playground play (weather permitting). That will be her favorite part, I'm sure.

If she is just a late talker, she will probably test out in a few to several months. If something else is going on, she will stay in services and the school district will take over when she is three. In that case, I would take her to a local school and stay while she worked with a speech teacher. All is free.

She is adding sounds daily and attempting more and more words. There has been a change in just the last month, which leads me to believe she is just a late talker. But we'll see.

I've never forgotten these types of appointments, but because of all that is going on, I forgot they were coming this morning. And, I was in the shower when they arrived. Don had to answer the door, not expecting anyone, of course. Horror, I tell you. Horror. The couch was full of unfolded clothes. I had gotten back from a grocery run around 1 a.m., so I only put away the cold items before finishing some laundry and going to bed. The counters were full of groceries and breakfast things. The dining room had hanging daywear all around, which hadn't been put in closets the day before. All inhabitants were still in their nighttime sweats, with no hair combing having been done. I was never more horrified in my life! I apologized profusely, and they were extremely gracious, but I'm sure I will forever be, in their eyes, a disorganized slob.

The playroom, in which they worked, had just been freshly cleaned before I'd gotten into the shower. The grace of God at work, I'm sure. I forgot they were coming, but He didn't.

Humbling Night

Tonight I was too harsh with Daniel. What remorse! He had a couple minor fits before bedtime, in response to hearing no to one of his requests, and I yelled and spanked (neither of which work with him), and then took away his Homeschooling-Group Valentine Party, which was to occur this Friday. His non-cooperative offenses were just the last straw in a stress-filled day. Rather than ignore his fits, I overreacted, sinning right along with him. I know there aren't any perfect parents, but I feel like such a failure when I yell, in particularly. It solves nothing, proves nothing, and it isn't even a true consequence. Not to mention that most of us look and sound pretty ugly when we're doing it. Perhaps doing it in front of a mirror would work to curb the habit.

Thirty minutes after I finished the bedtime routine, I went back into the boys' room and said that I shouldn't have taken away the party, since we made a commitment to be there and the hostess had already purchased art supplies for their craft, and some of the children might have already made out their Valentines. I explained that I felt taking away a much-anticipated party was too much in response to a couple minor outbursts.

Unfortunately, it took me thirty minutes to right this wrong, even though I knew I was going too far as soon as I brought up the party. Admitting I was wrong was hard and humbling. As I sat and rocked Anna right after leaving their room initially, I realized that I was expecting Daniel to somehow understand how frustrating dealing with a colicky baby can be. The kids have mostly been great, given that Anna takes up most of my time. But as the fussiness continues, they are bound to rebel some. I need to be ready with a measure of grace.

Throughout the day I also felt frustrated that Emily was continually having to be gated in the playroom while I nursed or tried calming Anna Grace, who needed to be rocked for a good portion of the day. I tried the sling several times, and while it does eventually calm Anna, I have to take her out of it frequently, to either put Emily on the potty or change her training pants, etc. Slings are wonderful; I'm fortunate that it calms her. This time around though I'm finding it more awkward to use, as I try to speed through routine chores and care for a toddler.

From the time my morning sickness started last spring, this has been a rather rough ride for the family. A whole year has gone by, with a less-than-ideal child-rearing environment. There HAS been plenty of love to go around, plenty of ideal moments, mixed in with the stressful. I suppose the human-like difficulties inherent in having a larger family do provide the children a training camp for life. They have to learn to compromise, to work hard and efficiently, to put others before themselves, to stand up for what is important, and to extend mercy and grace. I have to remember that what seems ideal to me, may not be so to the Lord. My perspective is always going to be earthly and flawed. And His? Perfect and eternal.

The look on Daniel's face when I went back to their room to explain my error was one of pure relief and gratitude. He teared up and told me that he felt so much better. Then he said, "I love you, Mommy. I'll sleep so good now."

I told him I loved him too and walked back to the living room, to the rocker, to continue rocking Anna. And the peace that washed over me assured me that I'd done the right thing.

A Large Measure of Grace

What is it about marriage that causes such an inexplicable, uncanny range of emotion? We aren't fighters by any means; peace usually prevails here. Mostly, we just don't have the time to get into spats - too many diapers to change, errands to run, tasks to complete. But anyhow, one day I'm on my knees thanking God for giving me just the right husband, and the next day I'm trying to keep my trap shut because I can't think of a single nice thing to say to my honey!

Last night I was on rocking chair duty, so Don decided to clean the kitchen. I was so thankful and blessed, until I went in there to take my vitamins before bed. The counters weren't wiped down, the stove was a mess, the garbage disposal wasn't run, and the sink wasn't clean. It's roughly 2:00 am at this point, and I'm irritated beyond belief that I had to finish the kitchen. Mind you, the rest of the house has been a mess for a few weeks, so I don't know why a clean kitchen means anything to me anymore. I didn't say anything, because I know why this occurs. Honey always says that men just don't have the same ability to attend to detail. Convenient excuse? LOL

While in California we listened to the testimony of a Vietnam Vet (later a pastor) who was badly injured in the war and demoralised by the reception the troops got upon their return to the US. He suffered from substance abuse and depression, and literally put his wife through hell for several years. One day, he walked in on her in their bedroom, on her knees, begging God to help her love her husband one more day. She had recently become a Christian, but he had not. He backed out of the bedroom, quietly. She never knew he was there. That was a turning point in their marriage. It helped him acknowledge his pain, his anger, his substance abuse, and soon after he became a Christian. In his forties, he became a pastor, after earning a degree in psychology and theology. He baptized me, and married us, and will forever hold a dear place in our hearts. Two months before we moved here, he suffered a massive heart attack and passed away quickly, at the age of 60, in the church courtyard. Our church had an average weekly attendance of 8000 people. He was beloved by all. The Lord used him mightily.

I tell this story because every time I feel extremely irritated at my husband, I remember the image of her kneeling beside her bed, praying that the Lord would help her love Dan one more day. If He can help her endure all the pain Dan caused, he can surely help me finish the kitchen at 2:00 am, armed with a large measure of grace towards my Honey.