There's something about that archway in the hall that makes things with Him and I, more than great.
The Cowboy's studying hard, working hard, serving hard and loving hard these days. Somedays go by and there's hardly a moment when it seems like him and I just might collide...
But I've discovered that a small way to increase intimacy within my marriage really only requires a few intentional moments a day.
That archway... We meet there often, the Cowboy and I.
Last night I was mopping the floors and he was on the stairs hugging the kids, tickling them goodnight. I put the mop down and watched him wave one last time to the treasures. And on his way out, he met me in that archway, wrapped his worn man-hands around my waist, and rested his warm lips on my forehead.
No words were said.
Just us, there.
Two minutes, a few times a day...
Two minutes and we reconnect.
Two minutes and I'm reminded of how great "us" feels, of how great "us" actually is.
He has to go, and he pulls away, and his eyes meet mine.
Only but a moment. But in that moment I find that somehow my eyes are connected to this heart of mine and when he purposely looks straight into them, I find myself thankful for our love all over again.
(Disclaimer: There are some very graphic photos in the video below. You may desire to preview before watching with your small children. )
The spunky girl didn't get the pink plate when lunch time rolled around. She melted onto the picnic blanket into a heap of tears. Her drama stemmed into a conversation on gratitude... Onto the blessing of food... Onto the reality that we have much and so many have so little.
We chat about this often around here, the treasures and I. And I've thought for some time to do what we did today but I felt reserve and a little worry about the whole thing. I wondered if it might just be to much for their young hearts, for their innocent eyes.
And yet my words seemed not to be getting through and I longed for them to SEE. See that that juicy turkey sandwich on their plate was a blessing... not a burden.
So a bit skeptical, I gathered the treasures around and I showed them this video...
And this one... (More graphic than the first; I cried as I read the words to the treasures.)
What happened as each picture came up on this screen, was beyond me.
Our treasures are 6, 5, 3 & 1.
THe dancing girl stared wide-eyed,
"Those kids are so skinny mom."
"I know" I said.
I didn't know that when we slowed down to watch, maybe my eyes would be opened too.
Then the dancing girl could no longer look.
Tears streamed down my five-year-olds face.
I asked why she was crying?
"They have so little, and we have so much."
Half way through, the spunky girl, who had been complaining about her lunch just five minutes prior, looked up and straight into me with her sandwich in her hand,
"Thank you for my sandwich Mama."
Then she looked back at the screen.
She's three. And something sank in, something changed her.
When the video was over, the dancing girl pulled her hands down from over her eyes and asked if we could watch it again.
We didn't.
Instead I asked them what we might be able to do? How could we watch and not be compelled to respond?
I started us off...
"A very small way that we can respond is to choose gratitude. We-are-blessed! Let's spend our days thankful, rather than complaining."
To my surprise they were filled with their own ideas.
"Next time we go to the store, we could buy less for ourselves and some food for those who don't have any," the oldest laid it out there.
And then my sweet dancing girl, with a tender gift of compassion, picked up on the "dollar a day" from the video. She gets a quarter a week for completing her chores, and she doesn't yet understand money and maybe she doesn't yet even understand her own willingness to sacrifice, but she goes up stairs and she brings down her quarters and she says it to my completely humble amazement,
"They can have these."
It's a bag of all she has.
It's only $1.25.
And I think about how she's five and how to often I doubt what the Lord can and does do in the inner heart of a child. A little girl who can't talk theology, or speak eloquently about the Gospel. But somehow He's enabled her to grasp that although in this farmhouse we live paycheck to paycheck, WE ARE RICH...
"They have so little, and we have so much"...
At dinner last night, all three talking treasures, THANKed me for their chicken, vegetable soup. Even the spunky girl who sat right next to me at the table, said it over and over again,
"I'm eating joyfully Mom."
It's only been a few days, and change will be gradual. But we're thinking a little differently around here.
As He opens our eyes, He will fill our minds with ideas for change, and He will strengthen us to move out of ourselves and further into Him.
I cried today as I wrote out my grocery list.
Sometimes the needs of this world can overwhelm. Where to begin? How can little old me help?
And I know the answer, but sometimes its hard to trust...
We can be obedient to the little things. We can sponsor a child through compassion. We can buy cans of food and bring them to our local food bank. And in the obedience of the small things, our ears are being trained to hear His voice towards the bigger things.
Ultimately it all comes from Him.
He is able to do in us exceedingly, abundantly more than we could ever ask... or imagine.
It was one unexpectedly sweet hour with my treasures. :)
The past few years of many small children have kept us in a constant search for great new books from our local library. And although we have found baskets full of worthwhile reads, I thought it might be fun to pass along our latest top ten favorites.
Good for ages 3-7. :)
Enjoy!
Pickle Chiffon Pie- We love this book!!! It's this fun, creative adventure where kindness wins.
Five Stars From us!!
Wilfred Gordan Mcdonald Partridge- The story of a boy with an extravagant name but who isn't "quite that old either," help his 99-year-old friend find her memory. I read this one to my kids and took a stroll down memory lane one Friday afternoon in hopes that they might have memories of someone they've never actually met.
The Napping House, by Audrey Wood. The kids have this one memorized. It's fun sing song rhythm allows the kids to read along simply by memory. Everyone smiles when we pull this one off the shelf! :)
Miss Rumphis- The tale of a woman who has three goals in life... one of which is to make the world more beautiful. And she accomplishes her goal in an unlikely way.
Blueberries For Sal (and any other book by Robert McKloskey) A little girl picking wild blueberries with her mother, eats most of what she finds and runs into a few bears along the way. We really enjoy this book.
The Little Red Hen- This one is best told on audio. The music brings the story to life. Because of the repetition the kids can recite most of this one by memory as well. There are usually several audio versions available at our local library.
Bread and Jam For Francis- Just a classic. Francis's Mother has a kind creative way of teaching her little Francis important life lessons. And it's fun for the kiddos too! :)
The Quiltmakers Journey by Jeff Brumbeau- An incredible story of a woman who puts others above herself. She's a woman who uses her talents and goes against everything she's ever known, by giving her life to those who have very little.
The Little House (and others by Virgina Lee Burton, like Mike Muligan and His Steam Shovel)-
Just sweet... that's all that need be said. LOVELY! :)
Teddy's Button-- This is the best book for boys that talks about giving our lives to Christ. If you have a little boy who loves swords and leadership and protecting and standing up for what is right... and you want nothing more than for that boy of yours to gain a passion for serving Christ... then get this book! :)
And a bonus book, just for fun.....
Owl Moon- A little girl's adventure with her Papa out into a cool winter night in search for the great Owl. Might even inspire an adventure of your own? :)
Today we watched the leaves blow right off that tree in the front yard. The skies were grey and the wind was strong and the treasures were face-smashed up against the tall windows with mouths wide open.
"Mom... LOOK AT IT!" Oldest boy spills wonder right out and I smile from under a blanket, me bundled in the over-sized armchair in the corner of the room.
I have the perfect view.
The wonder of yellow-beautiful falling to the ground.
Beautiful, blown. Soaring joyfully, eloquently to it's very end.
October carries so much symbolism for me.
I've struggled through motherhood these past days and weeks. I've struggled with my mouth and my words and living kindness, the kind of kindness that He lives towards me.
I feel often the dying... the inability to be who I wanna be in my own strength, the limitations of my own humanity. I know that I don't have to remain in that feeling. He's in the business of rising up, of making new. He's willing to restore several times a day. He doesn't tire of molding those who humbly desire Him.
I can try and try in my own strength to be the kind of Mama, wife, friend, and daughter that I wanna be, but I will always come up short.
I watched the sun rise this morning. I read His words over and over again... God's righteousness doesn't grow from human anger... anger doesn't grow righteousness.... man's anger does NOT bring about the righteous life that God desires.
I confessed the way it's been around here, and humbly asked that He might make a salvation garden of my life... believing that He will most certainly enable me to act on what I hear.
Lord, make me wise in You. Not in the things of this world, but only in You. You and only You. Bring me to the place where You are my everything... my only One True Love.
On this Monday Fall morning,
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing in you sight oh Lord,
I was sitting "crisscross -applesauce" at the end of her hospital bed, rubbing her feet and listening carefully to whatever words she could muster up.
I was finishing up my first year of marriage and she knew she was on her way to meet her sweet Jesus. And with every labored breath she was struggling to give me any bit of advice about life that I might need to know before she was gone.
She told me to travel... we did.
She told me to give myself grace... I'm learning.
She told me to CLING to Him... I've never let go... Or maybe it's more like, He's never let go of me. :)
It's ten years later and I have a house full of my own treasures now and holidays come and go. And if you must know, I absolutely LOVE holidays. I love decorating. But above all that I love the way holidays can make the hearts of the six folks living under this farmhouse roof grow.
I LOVE Halloween!
It is possible because "Holidays will only be what you make them to be."
I love dressing up, and eating carmel apples, and playing carnival games. I love hay rides and carving pumpkins with the treasures.
But for us, Halloween is so much more than that.
It's a reminder that because of Christ we're DEAD to sin and ALIVE in Christ.
Because isn't that the whole of Fall? All those gloriously red and orange and yellow leaves falling to their end. Isn't that us? Isn't He in our hearts and in our lives taking the death of our sin and making us into something undeservedly beautiful and all for His glory???
And so in this farmhouse we celebrate! Celebrate the way He's brought us back from the dead!
So together we make Halloween paper and turn it into a sign of joy, of redemption, of new life.
It's a daily renewal around here. SOmetimes it's actually hourly. :)
And this week the treasures and I have been talking about being dead to our sin, about choosing to be Christ towards one another.
And if you wanna know how it's going...
well...
This morning after a heart-bruising moment in our day,
one of my precious children said to this Mama,
"Mom, your not very good at that dead to sin thing yet are you?"
"Not yet." I told that little truth-speaking gem of mine with a smile on my face.
"But I sure am thankful for your forgiveness and grace!"
(Kids are the best grace-givers around! :)
So on Halloween night we'll dress up and we'll laugh and we''ll have a feast of chile and cornbread and treats galore out in the 100-year-old barn that sits in the middle of the field. And we'll fill it with treasure friends and thank Him for taking us from death to life!
The little boy was dedicated in church this morning.
He gave everyone a beaming smile from the front. :)
The church body agreed to support the Cowboy and I in the raising of our treasures.
A heart-felt prayer was prayed over our boy and a few others.
I'm sure I've mentioned it before, because really being a Mama kind of consumes me... this career of soul-molding, pouring into hearts that they might wanna give their lives to the very One who created their every last detail... it's quite the job.
I know it starts with Him. Then it moves onto me and the Cowboy. With our own love for Christ. It's our lives, not our words, that bear the best witness to these treasures of ours.
And how thankful I am for the folks who come around us in this living of life. Thankful for those who aren't afraid to speak the truth. Thankful for those who pray fervently. Thankful for those who carry the sting with us on the broken-heart days.
And although it would be literally impossible to raise these treasures without the wisdom and support of the whole village, the Cowboy and I still take great delight in the intimate responsibilities that come in the day to day. There are things that fall on parents, things that the church simply cannot fulfill for family.
Our treasures need to hear the precious Word of God daily.
They need to see their Mama and Papa handling conflict with humility and prayer.
They need to know that the farmhouse is more than a strong physical roof over their heads, it's a safe-haven for their hearts. It's a place where they can make mistakes and never doubt that they are insanely loved. It's a place where they hear words that make their hearts stronger. It's a place that they can daily learn the power of forgiveness and reconciliation.
The body that surrounds us is an indescribable gift in the bringing up of our treasures.
But first and foremost the Lord has picked us, parents, to show our children Christ.
What an honor.
What a privilege.
What a calling.
What a gift.
What better way to grow in Him than to accept with great joy, the gift of parenting, the gift of molding souls towards Him? And in the process watch Him parent us into His very likeness?
#'s 689-702
Fall break.
Time with parents and the treasures.
Kids helping one another in the kitchen.
Scriptures to really live by.
A friend who shares her TJ chai tea latte, and her life with me.
Many many steps taken by the littlest one.
Brave kiddos at the dentist.
A date at Ikea with the Cowboy, catching up on each other's hearts.
Peanut butter & jelly for dinner on a lazy Sunday afternoon.
Hats, coats, boots and scarves from a generous Gramma.
Encouraging articles helping this timid home school Mama find solid ground.
A new day to shower them all with extravagant love!
The gift of soul-molding... given to me. May I take it with great joy... :)
I want a mouth full of kind words. Words that make those around me stronger.
More than anything, I want His mouth.
I wanna be wise. I wanna know what to do when the breaking and the stinging and the sharp words rise up in this farmhouse full of sinners and all I really wanna do is join in the mess, rather than defuse the chaos with overwhelming kindness.
More than anything, I wanna be Christ with skin on to the five folks that live under this roof.
Why is it that the ones we love most, are the ones who get to see our ugliest sides?
Who I am, and who I wanna be, sometimes seem worlds apart.
And I wonder just how it is that the two "me's" that seem to battle back and forth in my heart, might ever collide and burst forth tender words that build up, gain eyes that see Him in everything, and stumble upon wisdom herself?
What my mind has been mauling over this week...
"But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God on the basis of faith. I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead." (Philippians 3:7-11)
Do I really consider all things in my life to be nothing?
Do I really live Christ as my everything?
A treasure came into the kitchen carrying a paper full of her creativity, and a heart full of proud joy. She left the kitchen two minutes later sunken and questioning her God-given talents. I should of lavished affirmation. Instead I chose to be angry about her wasting paper.
I need His eyes.
I need His mouth.
I need His wisdom.
I make it right with her, apologize and ask forgiveness. Less than an hour passes and the same treasure, having forgotten such recent past, climbs up in this Mama's lap, and says it in confident happiness,
"I love Jesus more than anything Mama."
And I tear up, because I now know His mercy.
"I'm not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don't get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I've got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I'm off and running, and I'm not turning back." (Philippians 3:12-14)
I am not yet who I wanna be, but I am always and forever His...
