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Our second son's birthday today... it'll be a day wondering where twenty four years has gone or how did they pass so quickly.  All I know is that I sure wish I had dropped what I was doing that day... that Summer day when he was swinging on the swing in the backyard outside the kitchen window where I was washing dishes at the sink.  He called to me,  "Come push me, Mama!" I said, "Justa sec... I'm busy right now."  I never went out to push him on the swing and as I have thought about that many, many times, I'm pretty sure that's the last time he was on the swing---or it was the last time I recall him asking me to push him, anyway.  And then my mind wanders to many other "last time's" and I recognize a friend named Melancholy has come to call.  Melancholy reminds me of lots of other "last time's" ---other "Justa sec's" in my motherhood years... and all the times I couldn't stop to play, couldn't stop to read another story or build another tower or watch another hoop shot.  Melancholy takes a sip of coffee, sits back and puts her feet up on my desk here... and she reminds me of a bunch of things----and I stop typing.  And listen awhile.

It's a pretty sure reality that whenever I make an attempt to move from one square to the next, the devil is right there swift and eager to take a swing at things... reminding me of failings, my shortcomings, some people's opinions of me, things I never have completed or don't know how to do, and on and on.    I had to laugh---really, yesterday when I came back to my computer to complete the formatting of a file in a new section here on the website I am devoting to letters to mothers.  Amusing (or pathetic) is the only way to describe the series of events that followed my preparation of that new section and prior to the children's naughty adventure.  Now... time allows me the perspective to see the children weren't intentionally naughty and they weren't intentionally disobeying known commands-----yeah, I know... that's a stretch.  But again, I'm an old mom whose pretty stretched lately and so because of that, I'm a bit more pliable. I didn't tell them that, though.  I understand children and I understand that they get caught up in the moment sometimes and all common sense and training in obedience goes out the window---or down the lane, as the case may be.   They woke up this morning remembering they will "never-ever-ever-ever-ever-ever" do that again.  I smiled: "I know, I love you" I said with a kiss... five times over.

So, letters to mothers.  That's funny.  Funnier, now.  I was folding a "white load" (translated: a longer time at the dryer) and was mulling over children's behaviour.  Children, any children.  I was considering the children from a family I used to know.  The behaviour of the children was actually strikingly outlandish and nothing at all like the training of or behaviour of the parents of those children.  I considered some of the behaviours of some of our children and, frowning, I thought the very same thing: where on earth did they learn *that!?*  I considered behaviours of other children---behaviour that is totally contrary to many things they ever were allowed or trained to do at home.  So I thought... perhaps I would put some of my letters to women up here on the site to perhaps encourage other mothers to press on and that no matter how things seem today, God's Word still stands and His ways are still right and the narrow path is still the right path to travel---no matter how dark the way might appear at the moment and no matter how rocky the path might seem some days.  It will be worth it all when we see Jesus.  I thought about posting some of them but then I thought not---because today the titles of the letters would start something like: From one loser mother to one who feels like one---and that didn't seem like a very strong beginning---really.  I'm not fetching for some "hey, you're not so bad" mail-----nor am I ready for mail from people who're just waiting for an opportunity to say, "told ya so."

One of the drawbacks to blogs is that they're often filled with the surfacey stuff that really doesn't accurately portray the substance of the blogger or the significance of the life under the thin slices of the day.  On the other hand, I guess that's why lots of us blog.

Many thanks to those who've written such gracious letters and comments that've been so encouraging. Really---thank you.

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September 27, 2005

 The ironies of slices of this day 

An excerpt from my favourite devotional book by John Baillie:

Teach me. O God, to use all the circumstances of my life
to-day that they may bring forth in me the fruits of holiness
rather than the fruits of sin.
Let me use disappointment as material for patience:
Let me use success as material for thankfulness:
Let me use suspense as material for perseverance:
Let me use danger as material for courage:
Let me use reproach as material for longsuffering:
Let me use praise as material for humility:
Let me use pleasures as material for temperance:
Let me use pains as material for endurance.
                          ... John Baillie, A Diary of Private Prayer [1949]

So there were five young ones who needed to face life.  And rather than to allow my description of their disobedience and what might have been a very bleak, dangerous situation to teach them, I knew I needed to make sure an adventure like that  would never happen again. (I know, I know----I've been a mother long enough to know that that previous sentence really didn't end with a period.  It really ended with "...never happen again (until the next time a situation comes up)."  But I didn't tell it to them that way.  Arrow prayers and carefully applied discipline began the rest of the afternoon.

Now, that was the last thing I would have wanted to do today and that was certainly the last way I would have wanted to spend the time.  As the children remained in their rooms following the thoughtfully and carefully applied prayer and loving kindness, they had plenty of time to recount for me in writing why they were there, and all that could've happened.  They had plenty of time to reflect on the choices they made.  I was happy they were so responsive and understood the gravity of the situation.  Ahhhh motherhood.

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September 26, 2005

 

"Even those of us who are inside it will agree that, in the main, the Church and all for which it stands occupy a palpably smaller place in the life of the average member than it did in former days. We explain it on the ground that life has become fuller, and that, of necessity, our attention nowadays has to percolate over a wide area instead of rushing foam-flecked down a narrower channel—which is to say, in other words, that Christ is getting lost to us in the crush and throng of things, does not loom up as arresting, as unique, as all-important, as He did to our forefathers. Yet that, when you come to think of it, is no bad definition of unspirituality."

... A. J. Gossip (1873-1954), From the Edge of the Crowd [1924]

 

September 24, 2005

 Too bizzzy to blog these days

But it's a good bizzzy.  Some days are just like that.   I've been working on the new "Someday and Heirloom Marriage" Bible study for women that will be posted here on the website each week.  This Bible study comes many years after I first wrote a Welcome Home message with that same title.  And... for all these years it has been the title of a book I have written in my mind.  It'll probably never actually be written---for many, many reasons, but for now some of what would be written in that book will be posted each week in the form of a Bible study for women to use personally or in small groups.  It will be very similar to my twenty-three week Titus2 Journey study called: The Making of a Titus-Two Woman, and will hopefully encourage women in the Word---with the LORD transforming lives and marriages.  That may sound rather lofty, but by that, I simply mean: when women get into the Word of God and yield their lives to Him, great things happen.  The LORD is great and greatly to be praised!

So... I've been cleaning.  Cleaning sort has a double advantage as the time spent yields great results both physically and mentally.  Sorting stuff allows for some real mental sorting---tossing stuff out makes room for the stuff that's already there but is inaccessible.  I say stuff because that's what we usually do around here when things don't fit.  But we're trying to turn that habit around and get rid of stuff and not stuff stuff.  But we inevitably run into the trap in the mind: I might need that someday, or, what do you guess, the moment we throw that out, we're going to need it.  Hmmmm.  Well, we did eliminate a lot of things in the boys' room, in Timothy's room and in ours.  It got pretty easy as time went along.  Now, to some of my neat-as-a-pin friends, what we have done would hardly be considered ruthless.  We aren't there yet---ruthless, that is. 

I know friends who keep nothing superfluous. Nothing.  If they don't use it all the time, wear it all the time, read it all the time, play with it all the time or whatever else all the time---it's outsky!   They keep one piece of children's artwork as a representative sample of the child's work during any given season and the rest goes out.  I wish I'd done that (sort of).  As it is now, I've kept some things so long now that I figure why ruin a great track record.   Besides, old things provide hours of entertainment for whoever happens to be around when I look through old things.  O, I know I can't take any of it with me when I go---or even if we move from here... but until then, the things stay in boxes and children delight in knowing I kept all their stuff.  As I sorted, I came across newspapers I have saved from significant days in history---historical events captured in front page photos.  The children especially like those old papers. Then, I came across some things I haven't worn in twenty-five years. Knowing I would never in this lifetime wear them again...  I just kept them, anyway------sort of for shock value.  I'm telling you---I'm fairly certain that things that sit in that closet too long begin to shrink dramatically!  So... I kept the things... you know, for posterity.  One day I will pull them out again and gasp ---marveling how small those clothes have become!  I used to save them as incentive to lose weight---they're no longer incentives to me.

More later.  We've had a wonderful visit with our friend who just got back to the states and we're looking forward to spending time with other friends we haven't seen for a couple of years.  We're missing Timothy more as he is missing all these visits. 

For now, I have *much* ironing to do!   It will not be boring as I continue to hear about visits from friends and the boys "most excellent adventure."

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By the way----I'm thankful for all who wrote about that excellent adventure, Wes's birthday and the family photos.

September 22, 2005

 My dear husband's Birthday's today
 

Happy birthday to you,  Happy birthday to you,

 Happy birthday dear Wes, Happy birthday to you!
☺

 Kathryn at Deer Lake
 

 

September 21, 2005

The Boy's most excellent adventure

We made another trip to the SeaTac airport last night---something that's becoming pretty routine for our family in this season.  This time tearful goodbye's were replaced with hugs and joyful hello's.  The entourage of five of six of our most favourite boys in the world deplaned and made their way down the corridor where we were waiting.  This time, I had with me Stephen and Joseph, who were absolutely beside themselves waiting for the plane to touch down and taxi to the gate.  Their eyes darting back and forth as they searched the crowds streaming off the planes.  With each plane's passengers making their way through the airport, the anticipation of seeing the boys was almost too much for the little guys.  At last they emerged and we laughed as we saw the boys---they somehow looked older and taller and more charming than ever.

It was neat to hear them recount their days at Catalina and tell us of the things they enjoyed the most.  I continued to reflect on the fact that though they were home, one was still down there and the ache I feel in missing Timothy grew a bit more intense.  Seeing the pictures made that ache and the distance between us all the more profound.  I miss Timothy all the more and Aunt Martha too, having just taken the excursion through their pictures.  I'll post them here with notes in order to savour the moments they enjoyed during their visit with Timothy on Aunt Martha's boat in Southern California at Catalina Island.  I guess it's lots of pics to post.  But I'm their mama... a very happy mama.

 

        
Martha's First Mate... hard at work.  It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it.  ;-)  Timothy and Aunt Martha

                              
            

     
Samuel and Nathaniel getting ready to dive and Timothy goes out in the kayak
           
Nathan dives off the bridge of Martha's boat...  Timothy coming down from parasailing
 
Micah took this pic while he was parasailing... this was his view of Catalina Island!
     

the boys... micah, nathaniel, james, timothy, samuel, nathan

the boys take their stand...

thus endeth the boys' most excellent adventure.
 

September 20, 2005

White Socks

No, I'm not talking about baseball.  Besides, I don't even know if Seattle has a baseball team or not anymore.  No, I was standing at the dryer, as I have done for decades now,  sorting socks.  Occasionally I will come across socks that were clipped by the wearer before they were dropped into the laundry basket.  Occasionally I will come across socks that I clipped before pushing them into the washer.  Occasionally, I will easily locate the mate to make a pair.  Occasionally, my mind will stay on task, but more often than not, my mind will wander.  My mind will wander through the litany of questions:  Where do all the single socks go?  Why do they never seem to come through the same load?  If so many are missing, why do I not see them hanging from the curtain rods or light fixtures or towel racks or door knobs?  When did those boys' feet grow to the point they need *this* size of sock?  Where are all the baby socks I washed for so many years?  How many mega-packs of socks have we purchased? And, if there are only seven days in a week, how come we wash 716 socks?  Okay... that's when my mind is really wandering... it really seems like double that when it's not even close to half.

As I sit here in my little sunroom, pictures surround me and Kathryn pulls into the driveway.  I can't even remember when I last washed her baby socks or her "Onesies" or when I last tied her shoes.  She doesn't lose socks or anything else.  So, my mind wanders while I write tonight.  I'm reflecting on thoughts shared by Carla (Joys in the Journey ) and understand that what we do is not in vain... it's not "all for nothing" --- even the sorting of socks.  Sorting socks enables me to think... to pray for the wearers and where their feet take them and what God's going to do with those steps.  There are many more larger-sized socks than little socks now, and so I'm mindful that the step will be larger, too.  The larger steps seem to be steps of runners and less steps of toddlers---more final steps than first steps.

Sorting socks enables me time to talk to the LORD about things that matter most: the hearts and minds of the wearers of those socks.  And sorting socks helps me sort thoughts---the LORD and I have done a lot of business at the washing machine and dryer over the years.  Lots of hard problems have been resolved in the sorting and folding.  Lots of events and memories have been recounted as sleeves are turned, zippers zipped, snaps snapped and sock donuts unrolled.

As the mountain diminished...  laundering more in the last week than we have in a long time, it's allowed for more time standing there---more piles to sort, more stains to treat, more loads to switch, etc., and since our girls have been busy with other things, I've had more opportunity to do that work than I normally do.   We don't actually have a separate laundry room, so that area of the kitchen where the washer and dryer sit doesn't afford me a private, out of the way place to think and pray --- and yet, in a sense, standing there, I always feel like I can be alone with the LORD and with my thoughts.  I think mothers do that... even in a noisy, busy room, there can be a sort of quiet, aloneness. 

Alone in a crowded home---now, that's a topic for another day. 

As I fold the bedding or the linens I think of each one of the children and the LORD brings to mind things that need to be taken care of.  Somehow, like the analogies with weeds and working in the garden, dirty laundry can be very instructive and enlightening.  Lots of business gets done in housekeeping and in gardening.  The LORD creatively uses many things to teach and encourage us.  As I fold my husband's clothing, I'm mindful of the type of work he's just done by the type of garment I'm washing and folding---this makes me very grateful for his work, his willingness to do whatever must be done without a word.  I note this many times over  the years and credit him for helping me do whatever I must do ---without a word--- in order to bring honour to him and to the LORD.

So... white socks.  I'm still wondering where they all go... sad to think that we're at the point in our family or in our parenting where it appears we'll be buying less socks in future days than we've bought in days past.  At least white socks.

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September 19, 2005

I suppose I intended to blog

But first, I decided to read, instead.  Morning routines had been long underway, children were busy and so I decided to use some of my time at the computer. I read devotionals and perused the mails.  Then I perused the lies spin demagoguery news and commentaries.  It was too disgusting to continue any further---not so much because the news was grim but because the attitude, for the most part, of reporters and commentators is foul.  I didn't need those loathsome attitudes to nasty up my thoughts and litter my mind with lies, hypocrisy and cynicism-------my children didn't need it and my husband certainly wasn't going to be helped by me grousing about and rehearsing for him the hypocrisies, lies and cunning of men (generic). 

I have a bunch of things I want to write.  My trusty little notebook is filled with notes, beginnings of messages, endings of stories, lists, suggestions, Bible passages to relate, etc., etc.  But then... I read Barbara's entry for today and I was done crafting my own thoughts---I was done attempting to write some of them down.  Her thoughts still swirl through my mind and I'm mulling and marveling at what God has done in her life, in her heart and home.  God's arm is not shortened that He cannot save, nor His ear dull that He cannot hear.  Her entry today is the letter she sent to her daughter on her birthday