Teach us to make the days count

You know how you have those favorite songs that will always be in your head even if you haven't heard them in 20 years.  I have lots of those and a few are by Chris Rice.  He's a funny kind of songwriter who can write both ridiculously odd songs (see: Smell the Color Nine) as well as songs so beautiful and meaningful that the first time you hear them you have to remind yourself to breathe.

One of his that I love is Life Means So Much, its really simple but over the years it has always stuck with me as a reminder to keep priorities in order.  When I'm old and wrinkled and look back on my life will I be so very glad that I always kept the house tidy and had well styled hair and fashionable clothes?  What really even matters?

Last week a lady that I didn't really know passed away.  But she was familiar to me as the mother of a little boy in my daughter's preschool class.  She was diagnosed with spinal cancer less than a year ago.  I try to imagine that struggle that she must have gone through; to figure out a way to say goodbye to someone she loved more than any earthly thing.  Her little boy might only remember her through pictures and videos in a few years.

Then I think about my crummy awful attitude towards my own small struggles and stress over things that will mostly be nothing more than dust when I am gone.  What do I want my kids to remember about me?  How do they see me now?  Have I taught them what's most important?  I believe tragedies like this untimely death are made meaningful by the impact on those left behind and lives that are changed through their example.  

Tonight my sweet, crazy, wild children sat around the dinner table and took turns praying.  "Thank you for my pets, thank you that my family is safe, thank you for our food, help us to be kind to each other..."  And how can I be stressed out about bedtimes, dirty dishes and bank accounts?  The highlight of my day is usually seeing their reactions to life and little silly personalities developing more each day.  My 9 year old is so quick-witted it's scary and has a flair for the dramatic, my 6 year old is a born adventure-seeker with a smile that will stop you dead in your tracks, and my 2 year old is out to conquer the world in her tutu.  My kids are so hilarious and wonderful but often I forget to even notice.  Sometimes I forget to even be nice to them.  Lord, teach me to make the days count.

Life Means so Much:
Every day is a journal page

Every man holds a quill and ink
And there's plenty of room for writing in
All we do and believe and think
So will you compose a curse
Or will today bring the blessings
Fill the page with rhyming verse
Or some random sketchings

Teach us to count the days
Teach us to make the days count
Lead us in better ways
Somehow our souls forgot
Life means so much
Life means so much
Life means so much

Every day is a bank account
And time is our currency
So no one's rich, nobody's poor
We get twenty-four hours each
So how are you gonna spend
Will you invest or squander
Try to get ahead
Or help someone who's under

Has anybody lived who knew the value of a life
And didn't He give His own
To show the worth of yours and mine?

Every day is a gift you've been given
Make the most of the time every minute you're living

-Chris Rice

A stretched-out heart

Sometimes God brings us into situations that are unexpected and difficult.  Then sometimes He surprises us by providing the strength and abilities to handle far beyond what we believed we could manage.  That's what happened this past week when I agreed to be the lead teacher for a VBS class for kindergartners at our church.

I have taught children (and college students which are sometimes like large children) in various capacities over the past 15 years but have never taught VBS before.  I found myself in charge of a group of about 18 six-year olds for 3.5 hours daily for five days.  Thankfully, I volunteered alongside at least one and usually two other wonderful teachers who made the week possible with their hard work and dedication.  Almost all of the kids in our class were visitors who we had never met before and knew very little about.  We should have known we were in for a busy week when one of the students came to me repeatedly on Monday asking "Have I had good behavior?".


Over the course of the week I was blessed to become better acquainted with this group of kids; some more so than others.  A handful of my little friends were kids that would likely be considered by many teachers as having "behavior problems" of various kinds.  There were troubles with following directions, listening, treating other children kindly, having patience and cooperating. Now I'm not talking about the kind of issues that would naturally occur on a daily basis in the world of every elementary school child. There was a clear difference between the kids that had a natural tendency to willingly do what was asked of them and the few children that seemed to be looking for a way to require extra attention and instruction.  This naturally made for some hiccups in the daily routine but I am blessed to be a part of a church that considers VBS an opportunity not only for fun and learning about Jesus, but also to simply show love to kids that need it.  During the process my fellow leaders and I learned that nearly all of our students who needed extra direction and time from us were also in living situations that are not entirely stable.  Now I am not talking about anything that would require intervention of any kind because that would have been a reason to raise the red flag.  We had some young children living in foster care or in homes affected by divorce or absent parents; children who had more on their plate to deal with than kids who have always lived in a home with both of their parents present and actively involved in their upbringing.

 I have worked with children in less than ideal living situations before, while working as an outdoor education teacher, but never with the intention of simply showing them love even when their behavior makes them difficult to love.  Unexpectedly, and much to my surprise, this week I found that somehow my ordinary little heart had room to truly love all 18 of those sweet little people.  In the midst of tears and tantrums, drama and ugliness, shouting and bouncing and climbing and pig piles; I found the ability to love and enjoy every one of those kids.  This was only possible through the grace and power of God.  I gave hugs, held hands, talked it out, bucked them up, whatever it took.  (Did I mention I'm not much of a touchy-feely kind of person?)  I mess up all the time when it comes to loving my own children but this past week Jesus decided that he would help me to do better with my VBS kids and I am just blown away.

Now I sit here exhausted, but honestly I am kind of sad.  Sad because I know that when it comes to most of those kids, I will likely never see them again and I hope and pray that God will make everything ok for them.  I would love to have them back again (maybe just 1 or 2 at a time!) to ask how they are doing and see their sweet faces; but I don't think that will happen.  So I am left with the feeling that my heart was stretched so big this week that now it is sore, misshapen and rather empty.  And I wonder now who learned more, me or the kids?  God brought home to me the fact that children do the things they do for a reason, even if they don't know exactly why.  When my initial reaction is to stop the problem behavior, maybe I am the one who needs to take a step back and find out what is causing the behavior.  That sometimes following the rules takes a backseat to loving other people.  Most of all this week I learned that our capacity to love others is really only limited by our willingness to try.

That's not a couch around your neck.

This is a phrase I heard in Sunday school this week and I haven't been able to get it out of my head.

I, like probably many of my friends out there, often struggle with feeling frustration and sometimes just plain old anger with difficult situations in life.  Not just in my life but also in the lives of my friends and family.  Why does it seem like our best laid plans always fall apart?  Why is it so hard to get our lives "in order"?  Why does life seem so exhausting and uncomfortable and relentless at times?  The earth that we call home is indeed full of beauty and wonder, love and joy, hope and laughter; but these things are often fleeting moments of life.  They surprise us out of the blue like a stunning sunset, we wait expectantly for them like Christmas morning or the visit of a long unseen friend, and sometimes we simply fall relieved and grateful into them when we gather to sit and chat with those who understand us best.  But there is of course another side to the coin of life; one that brings fear and pain, sadness and loss, struggles of all kinds.

I appreciate pragmatism and I agree with those who would say life can't always be smiles and good times.  We have to work for the things that we want and need and anything worthwhile should require a significant effort.  But why is it friends that most of us have a desire not simply for good enough but for perfection (in our own minds anyway) in nearly everything we see and do when we should logically know that 99% of the time that is probably not going to happen?  Most parents don't simply wish for their children to turn out pretty ok and have a mostly alright life.  If we have our choice of a place to live we look for more than just a simple roof over our heads.  No, we want the tile floors, double vanities, crown molding and a lazy boy chair for good measure.  Heck many of us are slathering lotions and make up on every day in an effort to make our own faces look just a little bit closer to perfect.  Why do we do these things?  Why are we always looking for that one more thing that will make life happy?  All I need is a better job, a bigger house, to pay off the bills, to lose a little weight and then life will be great.  Then after those things have been achieved they pale in comparison to the next big thing.  We want comfort, peace, love and to enjoy life but more often than not our days are filled with discomfort, arguments, hurt and difficult situations.



Can I just share with you some of my former distorted visions of how life will unfold?  Nearly two years ago I joyfully became a stay at home mom to three amazing kids under the age of seven.  I envisioned finally being able to keep the house clean, cook all of our food from scratch, finish up those baby books (yes, all three!), knit sweaters for the entire family...well, you get the point.  I'll give my other veteran SAHM buddies a chance to pick themselves up off the floor and dry their tears of laughter now.  Fast forward to today and I call it a success if you can walk to the couch without stepping on toys and we eat all three of our meals at home.  Don't you dare ask about the baby books and the sweaters.  Maybe some of you can relate, or maybe I am just not cut out for this super-mom thing.

So why the disconnect?  Are our hearts and minds just not cut out for life in this world?  I believe that they were not.  We were designed for a place that none of us here on earth have ever seen.  Our hearts yearn for the happy ending because that is where God invites us to dwell after our days on earth are used up.  So what ARE we doing here anyway??  


"That's not a couch around your neck."  It was in reference to the common practice among Christians of wearing a cross necklace and how often times we do this without really thinking about what it means.  The cross was originally an instrument of torture and death, the closest comparison that I can actually fathom is an electric chair.  *cringe*  But to Christians it represents something so much more.  Our gateway to freedom from death and sin, hope, God's great love for us, our security in Christ.  That doesn't even begin to fully describe it, but friends the symbol of the cross should also remind us that Jesus spent much of his adult life on earth suffering in one way or another.  As an adult he didn't really have a permanent home, he probably didn't have much in the way of belongings besides the clothes on his back, his closest friends didn't understand him until after he died and he was persecuted and died because of his beliefs.  In our culture that life is basically akin to a homeless person.  We have no evidence that Jesus complained of this lifestyle and I daresay he didn't spend much time sitting on a couch.  If you profess to be a Christian, this is your example.  As believers we will endure suffering of one kind or another, it is a part of life as sure as breathing.  We don't get a choice in whether suffering will come our way, we can only choose how we will respond to it.  In my own experience (which is admittedly limited) difficult times make us so much more grateful for the good things in life.  Even when I see someone else hurting or struggling I am reminded how precious life really is and that so many of our daily problems are pretty trivial.  When we suffer well, when we turn to God and trust that He will honor our hurt and pain, our struggles cause us to stretch and grow beyond what we ever thought we were capable of.  The cross reminds us that suffering and struggling can produce something so much more than a life spent on comfy couches.

Yes, my hands are full.

Our family has entered into a new and challenging, but exciting chapter in our lives.  Most obviously we are now a family of five with a baby girl to complement the two older boys.  But in addition, due to a string of rather unexpected circumstances, I have given up working outside the home to stay home with the kids.  This rather last minute decision was an answer to years of praying, working and waiting.  On a good day being at work while the kids were at daycare or being shuttled to school by my hubby were wistful as I enjoyed texted photos or quick phone chats during their morning routine that did not include me.  Then there were the days that leaving the kids was agonizing; when one of the boys was sick, if I had to leave for a few days on an out-of-town trip, or when I just wanted to be there to see them eat breakfast in jammies and bed-heads while their dad provided the morning entertainment.

Then God decided that wasn't all He had in store for this mamma.  After the decision was made for me to stay home, one night my hubby non-nonchalantly said to our soon-to-be second grader "You know you could stay home with mom and be homeschooled."  I was stunned.  My oldest son replied; "Really?  That would be cool."  I looked at the two of them.  Their faces remained calm as they continued with the business of getting ready for bed as if no one had just suggested changing the course of our child's future in one fell swoop.  I also chose to remain calm...at least for the time being.

Now this wasn't the first time we had discussed homeschooling.  Hubby and I have talked about it for years, especially after our oldest had started kindergarten.  I'll save the details as to why for another time but up until now it had been something we had just talked about; and something that I thought I was more interested in than he was.  So later that night when I asked him "Did you really mean what you said about homeschooling?"  He simply replied: "Sure.  I don't see what it could hurt."  And in one incredibly unremarkable conversation yet another one of my long time desires was plopped squarely into my lap, much to my shock.

So long story short; after some extremely valuable advice from a couple of my dear homeschooling friends and some research, planning and curriculum purchases we officially became homeschoolers!  I feel like this blog post could also be titled: "Confessions of a Closet Homeschooler".  We don't go out of our way to keep it a secret that we were homeschooling or anything, those friends and immediate family that we see or talk to regularly certainly know.  But we haven't really advertised it either.  Partially because that's just not our thing, but also because I needed time to wrap my head around the what, how and why of our daily school operations before I could even really answer questions about it.

And how is it going?  When I am out somewhere during the day with three kids and an agenda in motion I frequently get the comment: "It looks like you've got your hands full!"  Which I always find funny.  What does that mean exactly?  That I look like a ragged baby-schlepping mess of a frazzled momma closely followed by a wild blurry streak of chaotic boy energy?  Or maybe like a circus juggler with flaming torches spinning wildly before my keenly focused eyes; watch out folks any one of these could go flying your way without warning!  I know I know, its just one of those things that people say; but really, what is the alternative?  To have empty hands?  Most of the friends and family I know that do not have young kids are not people that I would describe as lackadaisical or even with much free time to spare.  When we find ourselves with empty hands don't most of us just find something to fill them anyway?  Whether its work, hobbies, travel, projects or friends I feel like most people that are able will busy themselves at least enough to truly be tired at the end of a day if not flat out exhausted.  And of course like most new endeavors, this experience of being mother to three and a homeschooler is teaching me just as many new things as my little students.  These days I think the biggest lesson is that being a wife and mother is often more about having the heart of a servant than anything.  Somebody always needs something and sometimes everybody needs it at the same time.  If I don't take care of them who will?  There are never enough hours in the day but that causes us to think about how we spend our time.  What did I do with the last 24 hours?  Did I make today count?  Even if it was just in some small way, so often it really is the little things that matter most.  Stopping to listen while my little boy tells me what he just created out of blocks and how it works.  Sometimes its just making sure to read that book that I promised I was going to read or doing a puzzle together. Or giving a really good hug, you know the kind that you wish would never end. 

There are times now that I catch myself and realize that the life I am living is almost surreal.  Like in a pinch myself kind of way.  I never would have dreamed that I would be where I am right now and though of course it is far from easy it is so darn good.  I get to make dinner instead of relaying to the hubby what to throw together over the phone as I hurry home from work.  I get to kiss the scraped knees and see the grins as they pull on their favorite superhero t-shirt in the morning.  I get to see the baby roll across the room and know that I just witnessed the first time that actually happened instead of hearing someone else tell me about it.  At some point, every day I watch as the boys give their baby sister adoring smiles, they whisper secrets into her ears and plant big wet kisses onto her head and hands as she coos lovingly at them.  Sure there are days that are frustrating and exasperating.  When the kids are bickering and won't listen to reason.  Those days that the baby won't nap and I can't seem to accomplish anything.  Do I ever miss working outside the home?  No, I do not.  Maybe someday I will but for now not at all.  This is more important and more urgent to me.  So maybe the house is untidy, there might be a huge pile of laundry undone, sometimes dishes are sitting in the sink and I often can't walk through a room without inadvertently kicking a lego across the floor.  Yes, I'm not wearing makeup and my hair was hastily done.  We are wearing clothes straight out of the laundry folded into a basket that was never put away.  Dinner tonight might just be leftovers plus a salad and oops I forgot to start the dishwasher again.  Yes, my hands are full, but so is my heart.

Absolutely refusing to worry.

This Monday I started my work week like I start many, listening to a podcast on the drive to work.  This one was by Chip Ingram.  He quoted an author who said that a long time ago he decided "I absolutely refuse to worry."; and when he felt the urge to worry about any situation that life brought he would repeat those words over and over to himself: "I absolutely refuse to worry."

It always amazes me how God brings truth to you just when you need it most.  This Friday, March 1st is the ultimatum for the federal government's budget sequestration.  If you don't really know what that entails you can look it up elsewhere, I won't try to tackle that one here.  For many Americans this might be just another opportunity to roll your eyes and thumb your nose at the politicians in Washington.  For those of us that work for the federal government it hits much closer to home.  There is a great deal of uncertainty about everything surrounding this situation right now but the one thing I know for sure is that people and work that I care about will be effected by this: co-workers, friends, fellow biologists, maybe me too.  To what degree, I don't know.  That's really the thing that gets the worrying going though isn't it, fear of the unknown.

I hate worrying.  I can't say that I never do it but I think that most of the things I do worry about are actually significant life-altering situations for me or someone close to me.  I don't think I worry excessively though.  My mother's philosophy is; "I'm a mom, it's my job to worry."  My response?  "It's not your job mom, you don't get paid for it.  It's your hobby."  Sorry mom, but you know its true!

Why do we worry anyway?  (Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? - Luke 12:25) What's the point, does it really solve anything or make things any better?  Not that I can attest to.  The only things worry has ever given me were wasted time, poor decisions, stress, anxiety, confusion, fear, doubt and sickness.  I have actually worried to the point that I felt nauseous.  Ridiculous.

Jesus said: "Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." - Matt. 6:34

That my friends is truth if I've ever heard it.  Kind of sounds like he's talking about my day to day life!  So if I refuse to worry what should I do instead?  Some of us would all of the sudden have quite a bit of free time on our hands.  (Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. - Phil 4:6)  We could focus on other people and helping them instead of our own problems.  Would that solve the problems I'm worried about?  No, but worrying won't do that either. 

But herein we can rest our hopes and dreams for the future; "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." - Matt. 10:29

His eye is on the sparrow.  That might not solve today's problems, but that promise gives us hope for the future. 

Blizzard Photos

With the arrival of yet another winter storm I know some of you New Englanders are now officially sick of the white stuff.  I do love snow so I am not quite there yet but still, I can't say that I blame you.  At least this time we are measuring our powdery precip. in inches, not feet.  So for a little perspective, here are some photos of what we were dealing with just a week ago:

The boys and their igloo - made with just a little help from dad!

Inside the igloo

The snow slide...

Clearly, it was a big hit!

    

The little guy loved it more than anyone.

Our tree-blocked driveway, this was after Adam had already shoveled away the 3 foot snow bank from the entrance of the driveway left by the road plows.

Mom buried in snow!

Big brother wanted to be buried too.

The only snowman we managed to pull off, a snow baby.

Let the Storm Subside

These are not my words, they are written by Joyce Meyer, but as I read them I was struck by how applicable they are to the situations that several of those dear to me currently find themselves in.  I pray that they bring encouragement to them and to you...

I have faced so many storms in my life, some like the quick afternoon storms that are common in the summertime and some that seemed like category four hurricanes!

If I have learned anything about weathering those storms, it has been that they don't last forever, and I don't need to make major decisions in the midst of them.

Thoughts and feelings run wild in the midst of crises, but those are exactly the times we need to be careful about making decisions. I often say to myself, "Let emotions subside before you decide."

We must remain calm and discipline ourselves to focus on doing what we can do and trust God to do what we can't do.
Instead of drowning in worry and fear, get in touch with God, who sees past the storm and orchestrates the big picture.

He makes sure everything that needs to happen in our lives happens at the right time, moves at the appropriate speed, and causes us to arrive safely at the destinations He has planned for us.

God, I know that I can't control everything, so I will do what I can and trust You to do what I can't do. The storms of life do not control me. I trust Your plans for me.

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.  Therefore we will not fear, though the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.  Psalm 46:1-3