Five Things (in the cupboard) Five Things is my weekly (supposedly) interesting (supposedly) tidbit that sparks five things in your life that you are thankful for today.

1. Chocolate chips (need you ask?)
2. Coffee (see number 1)
3. A CPR chart for infants (hmm..twins are four..maybe I should take that down now..)
4. Cream of Tartar (you need this to make play-doh)
5. The calendar (a must-have, at least I feel organized)

Thirty Dollar Trip to the Children's Museum

Thirty? Isn’t that a little hefty? It is when you have a membership and you were expecting to pay nil. Last Christmas, we got some money from Grandma. So we bought a membership at the Grand Rapids Children’s Museum. Grand Rapids Children's Museum - A place where learning is ...

Not that expensive, really, and a fun place for all. Today, we finished school and off we drove, over the river, and through the city to the Children’s museum we go… A fun time was had by all. They all dressed like firefighters. Mark also dressed as a horse, a farmer, and a beekeeper, but I digress…

The tough part about the children’s museum, as with most things downtown, is the parking. We parked at a meter. It’s two hour parking. So it was either feed the meter or head for home. We headed for home, but by the time we said goodbye to all our favorites, returned the firefighter jackets and hats to the right place, picked up craft projects and went potty, we’d lost about 20 minutes. Sure enough, I had a bright chartreuse envelope stuck under the wiper.

It screamed the words Parking Ticket in all caps, in a font of 72. So, I opened it. Do you know how much a parking ticket is? I’m thinking maybe 8.00. Noooo…the city is bitter about how those college kids keep ripping up their tickets. It’s 20.00! Yes, twenty! I almost ripped it up in protest. ( You all know that’s not me.)

It’s payable to the county clerk treasury. So I called the treasury to get directions to the building, (after all, we’re already downtown and in ten days, the amount due will DOUBLE!) We promptly got lost, turned the wrong way on a one way street, turned around and called again. No, the number is not on the building, you have to go into the parking tunnel. Is there a sign? I think so. What does it say? I don’t remember, just turn into the tunnel. The tunnel? You can’t miss it.

We crossed the river (twice), Oh look, kids, the river! We missed the tunnel and turned around. Showed our bright chartreuse folder to the parking attendant. She smiled and nodded. We were in the right place, sort of. There were about six exits from the parking area, and none said “treasurer”. We asked the attendant. She still smiled a little as she pointed us toward the green double doors, can’t miss those.

Two information booths later, and two elevators (yes, two), we arrived to pay our ticket. Mark got his shirt all wet at the drinking fountain. Do you know what my kids do when they get wet? Yes, Marc lifted his shirt and was bare-chested for all to see. Put your shirt down. I can’t! IT’s WET!

Paid for the ticket. $20.00 please. Found our way out. Could not find the ticket for the parking tunnel. Talked to the attendant. She did not smile. $10.00 is the lost ticket fee. Ten! We’ll look for it. Hmm.. Back inside the green double doors we went, both elevators, asked at information to see if we left it there, asked at the pay ticket counter. Nope. Officially out of luck.

Parking attendant asked if we found it. Nope..no one was smiling now. Put my $10.00 in the machine, (at least it’s not $20.00) Left the parking tunnel.

Now, how do we get to our highway? It was actually above us. There must be a way. We crossed under our highway twice….I wonder how we get up there…we crossed over a historic bridge. Oh, look, kids, the river…(again). Finally found an entrance ramp. There was a yield sign at the end. (somebody let me in....)

Ok, we are on the highway. It’s 5:00 traffic, and look, construction ahead. The sun was sinking low on the horizon and we were headed, yep, you guessed it, west.

Four tired kids and one tired Mama made it home before dark (Praise the Lord! I can’t drive in the dark) and in time to make a quick noodle supper.

Five Things

Five Things on my “To Do” List
1. Pick up Ryan’s pants.
2. Bathe the kids.
3. Get wedding card and birthday card
4. Make cookies
5. Check Email

Five Things on the “I Did Today” List
1. Cleaned a spider out of a spy scope (Hot water works best).
2. Made a high chair from waffle blocks (It takes 9 blocks).
3. Sang like a pirate.
4. Shared the Thanksgiving Day story of when I sat in the blueberry pie (twice).
5. Found out “crayons aren’t born, Mom. They are made in factories.”

Thinking

“Mom, is God bigger than heaven?” My eight-year-old asked me this question. “That’s a very interesting question,” I replied (which is my standard I-don’t-have-an-answer-response,) “what do you think, Tim?” (That’s my deflection tactic).

“Well, you said when you’re in heaven, you’ll be praising Jesus so you won’t even miss me. Then when I get there, I’llI tap you on the shoulder. Then you’ll point at Jesus, and we’ll both praise Him. If you can point at Jesus, then you are in the same room or area or whatever it is. So if Jesus and you are both in heaven, then heaven’s bigger. But Jesus is God and he’s in our hearts too, so maybe God’s bigger. What do you think Mom?”

This got me to thinking, “ When we are on earth, Jesus lives in our hearts, but when we are in heaven, we are with God. Heaven is God’s presence. In heaven, it’s like we are living in the heart of God, so I suppose that if heaven is the heart of God, then God truly is bigger than heaven.”
What do you think?

I am Like a Pumpkin
God picked me like a pumpkin
and brushed off all the dirt.
He carried me and washed me
while He listened to my hurt.

He scooped from me the yucky things
Like greed, and sin, and hate.
He carved in me a new life
and a new look on my face.

But that is not the end of it,
God’s love is great to me.
He put His light right inside
for all the world to see.

Tim found my senior college yearbook today and asked me to show him the pages where I was pictured. Then he would look for me and make a guess as to which young college student was his mom. He mostly got it right. But then he asked, “Mom, do you have any more of these old-fashioned books?” Old-fashioned???

Acronyzation

Don’t we all love acronyms? Remember the monogram sweater craze of the early eighties? All three of the initials of your name in swirly script smack on the front of your chest, ready for acronyzation. Okay, remember that bossy girl? Yes, with the initials BAC? Bossy And Crazy, Biased About Control, Basic Attack Clone….you get the idea…
While negative acronyzation occurs everywhere from names for the CIA, FBI, positive acronyzation also happens. Did you ever get a birthday card with an attribute for every letter of your name? SAM. Sweet, Amazing, Marvelous…
I admit I am a huge fan of acronyzation. There aren’t monogram sweaters anymore, but there are license plates…My email includes MAD, Make A Difference. My son’s name is TIM. Not only is that Terrific, Intelligent, and Merry, but switch that to MIT, and you have a Man In Training.

I recently heard a great acronym for Sunday afternoons. It’s CPR. It stands for Chill, Play(and Plan) and Relax. Wait a minute…aren’t Chill and Relax the same thing? Exactly. Sunday is God’s plan for rest. So, LOL, CPR, and have fun with your POSITIVE acronyzation.

No Crying in Soccer

Soccer. That great sport that teaches teamwork in competition. Or so it goes in theory…Did you ever see “A League of Their Own”? Tom Hanks coaches a women’s baseball team during WWII years. At one point, he emphatically states, “There’s no CRYING in BASEBALL!” I have told my boys, “there’s no crying in soccer.” Or so it goes in theory…

Watching Marcus and Lucas do soccer this year has been not only challenging, but also entertaining. Picture the six four year olds on our team, trying their best to listen to the great “Coach Dan”, but not quite getting the drills. They sit on their balls, lie on the grass, try to take turns, and not use their hands. They pick up the cones and shout through them. Lucas keeps using his hands to line up the ball before he kicks it. Each player has his own practice ball, but some drills require setting half the balls aside and attempting to pass. Not every four-year-old wants to willingly give up his ball. There’s no crying in soccer.

After some practice, they have a “game.” Marcus and Lucas were so excited about their jerseys with numbers. They kept turning in circles, asking, “What number am I?” Two players on each team rotate out, so it’s four on four, with no goalie. The two players who are out are not supposed to cry, but sometimes they do. Sometimes they have to run to the potty. Sometimes they have to talk to everyone on the sidelines. Lucas, watch the game, say "Go Sharks!!" Don't cry. There's no crying in soccer.

The first game, Marc seemed to think it was football, and if you can land on the ball, then you win. You can also pull down any person in your way by yanking on their jersey until they fall down, even if they are on the same team. Lucas was convinced he could just pick up the ball. I think after a few fingers got kicked, he seemed to do better. When the coach says, “don’t use your hands,” you don’t need to cry. There’s no crying in soccer.

The next week went better. During practice, we lost Lucas to the next team over, and after some convincing, he joined our team again. The game went a little better. Marcus stopped pulling most kids down. However, our little gaggle of guys kicking at the ball moved onto the wrong field and got into the next game. A little bit of sorting and we were fine. Lots of crying when it was Marcus’s turn to sit out. Marc, there’ s no crying in soccer. And Lucas left the game, ran up to me, placed his hands on my cheeks and said, “Mom, you have to say, “GO SHARKS!”
Week Three went okay. There was a boy on the other team who laid down during the game and had to be coaxed to play. I was glad to see that other boys do that too. We were in charge of snack that week, and several times during practice and the game, Marcus and Lucas asked if it was time to pass out snack yet. No, not yet, don’t cry, there’s no crying in soccer. Listen to Coach Dan.
We have two sets of twins on our team. Yes, Austin and Owen are coach’s sons and they are twins, too. Interestingly, all four twins have the same practice ball, blue and gold. This has been a little confusing, but sharpie markers are great things. When Tim mentioned they should be called, “Double Trouble”, Sarah added, “No, it needs to be double double trouble.” Two more weeks to go this fall and then we will be done until the spring. Maybe in the spring, there will be “no crying in soccer”, or so it goes in theory…

Waxing Eloquent

Alright, more reasons to homeschool…Remember 8th. grade grammar? Parts of Speech, BAD sentences you had to label and correct. Then you did the same thing in 9th, 10th, 11th, and 12th ? Frustrating, isn’t it?

Sooo, Ryan is in his college level business class and guess what’s in his textbook? Yep, those same old BAD sentences..he has to identify the problem, label the problem, and fix the problem…this, is just repeating 8th. grade (again) and has no benefit. It’s the premise..if you start with the BAD sentence…
Okay, so here’s my (slightly sarcastic) response.

Federal marshals have unique training. They do not look at counterfeit bills. They study the real thing. How do aspiring writers become great authors? How do artists improve their work? By studying the masters. Students even pick their favorites.

Why hasn’t this concept made it to the teaching of writing? Especially college writing. It seems we are all destined to repeat 8th grade. We look at really bad examples. These sentences appear randomly and are rarely, if ever, in context of any REAL piece of writing. (Yes, I am referring to numbered exercises). The student is asked to identify the bad part (modifier, clause, adverbial, etc.). Then the bad part must be labeled. Then it must be fixed to create a better sentence.

Apparently the purpose of this exercise is to identify and correct mistakes. However, this does not cross over into the students own work. At best, it’s busy work. At worst, it’s playing with garbage.

Why not find great business writing and emulate it? Even sentence combining exercises have more merit than identifying and fixing dangling participles.

As a teacher, I want my students to aspire to be their best. I am not going to feed them junk food. I want them to have the real thing.

There is great curriculum out there for home educators who follow my train of thought. LLATL comes to mind. Still, I was surprised by Ryan’s COLLEGE textbook. Perhaps a well-worded email to his instructor can help push things in the right direction. In the meantime, my poor husband is trapped changing around sentences for no apparent gain.

Paper Plate Art

Sarah now knows where the Drawing/Art books are at the library. Inevitably, we end up bringing at least one home every trip. This week’s choice was “Paper Plate Crafts”. So we bought an extra package of paper plates and began our little project. However, I realized we didn’t really need the book at all. We made paper plate kites, and swords, helmets, and shields, all on our own. We made birthday hats, masks, and flower petals with Sarah’s face in the middle. They came up with idea after idea. Sarah made a shark’s mask, and a queen’s crown with room for her pigtails. We ran out of time and paper plates before we ran out of ideas. So, next time you use a paper plate, just think what you could make with it first.

Homeschool Hints

Wipe Away Boards

These things are great. We’ve used them for numbers and letters and pictures. You can even laminate what you want and use a wipe away marker for those. Sarah and Tim are currently working on their cursive letters. It also really cuts down on the paper waste. It reminds me of the “slate work” in the one room schoolhouses of times of old.

Timing
No, not “timing is everything” timing, but the actual stop-watch kind. My kids love it if I “time” them, on their math sheets, flash cards, even on their writing wipe-off boards. Neatness still counts, but they love to be timed. Sometimes they race to beat their time from last time and sometimes they race each other’s times. Timing also works great with clean-up and getting dressed.

Choices

Which subject do you want to do first today? Math? Okay, do you want to do your game, your flashcards, your counting or your math sheet? (Once one subject is picked, there’s no picking another until all parts of that subject are done.) They also get to choose their treat. One treat for each subject. (I love it when they pick Hershey’s kisses because only Mamas can read the secret language on the “tags”. This one says, “Be kind to everyone.” This one says, “Daddy is proud of your hard work.”) I also gave my seven year old a page where he can check off each subject once it’s completed.

Challenge Fridays

I set up a challenge course while they wait in another room. The challenge course has stations. One station may be a page in their handwriting book. The next station is five math problems. The next is read a Dr. Seuss book to Marc and Luc. My 7 year old boy loves this and it motivates him to get things done. I am always amazed at how quickly he can accomplish this.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cyheJ480LYA

This is the Jesus Dance dramatic skit. Our youth group used this skit on Sunday to open our pastor's sermon about the church. At the end of service, Pastor invited the congregation to join the skit and "be the church." Imagine this skit with the believers jumping in and pointing the way to Christ and praying and rejoicing with the girl. It was very moving and a visual reminder of WHY we need each other in the church.

Things Kids Say (and Moms)

Things kids say (and moms)

All our kids look at and/or read books when they lay down to go to sleep at night. Marc and Luc have graduated from the “board books” of toddlers to the “paper pages” of big kids. But they still love the board books. Lucas’s nightly request is for “a brick book, please.”
“Here’s your brick book, Luc.”

“How did they make crayons in your world, mom?” asks Marc, after watching a video clip about how crayons are made in a factory.
“You mean when I was a little girl?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“They made them the same way they do now, in factories.”
“How did they make crayons in Jesus’ world?”
“Oh honey, they didn’t have crayons in Jesus’ world.”
Marc was shocked, "You mean Jesus didn't HAVE crayons?"

“Mom, can you tie my scape?” asks Marc. He holds up a square scarf.
“It’s a cape, Marc, say ‘cape’ “, I point to my lips just like I learned from the speech therapist.
“No, mom, I want to call it my scape, cuz I can get away FAST!”

“Mama, the clock says it’s 29 degrees! Is that enough money for ice cream?” Marc. (I think we need to work on some things….)

We have been listening to “Adventures in Odyssey” in the car these days and Tim always says, “Can we listen to Adventures in Odyssey?” the moment I get in the van. He also likes to play with rhyming words. Today he said, “Can we listen to Adventures in Modesty?”

My boys love to watch “Bibleman” (a superhero character who literally wears the armor of God). Today Marc was pretending to be “Bibleman” as he zoomed his apple bowl to the sink after snack. He held the empty bowl in his hand, lifted his arm high and declared, “The suction cup of faith!”

Lucas is my early riser. Today he sat in the kitchen by the counter all alone waiting for his oatmeal to be ready. He was talking to himself, “No, Marc, you can’t sit next to me. I don’t want to be by you. I need time A-lone.” I just listened, wondering if he was all the way awake. He stopped talking and looked around and spotted me. “Where’s Marc?” he asked. “Still sleeping,” I replied. His shoulders drooped with disappointment and he looked like he was going to cry. “Oh, I need him. He’s my best friend. Oh, I miss him.”

Tim’s soccer schedule
You are hereby invited to attend any of Tim’s games. He would love to have you there. You will need to bring a lawn chair, and wear warm clothes. The fields can be quite windy.

September 12 10:30 am Port Sheldon Sports Field 3
September 19 8:00 am Port Sheldon Sports Field 3
September 26 8:00 am Port Sheldon Sports Field 3
October 3 9:15 am Port Sheldon Sports Field 3
October 10 9:15 am Port Sheldon Sports Field 6
October 17 11:45am Port Sheldon Sports Field 6

1. Port Sheldon Sports Georgetown Township Click here for map and directions
2. Port Sheldon Complex Field Diagram

Five Books on my End Table

1. The B-I-B-L-E, that's the book for me..
2. The Power of a Positive Mom by Karol Ladd
3. Little Boys Bible Storybook
4. Before Five in a Row (yes, it's curriculm)
5. Photos and Events 2009 (photo album)
What's on your end table?

A Day at the Zoo

God's Still Working on me

“What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity. They are but trifles, to be sure, scattered along life’s pathway. The good they do is inconceivable.” -Joseph Addison

The Smile Experiment

In high school and college, I could hardly make eye contact with people I didn’t know, much less smile; I would avoid social situations. God had other ideas. My room-mate was one of the most well-known, popular girls on campus who was involved in everything, including the traveling singing group, so everyone knew I was her room-mate. Painfully, I learned how to stop my feet and talk to those I didn’t know. I even smiled sometimes. But God wasn’t finished with me yet.

Have you met my husband? He is bold, brave, and quite the talker. I have learned much about talking to people from him. He has encouraged me to leave my comfort zone and say hello and smile. But God wasn’t finished with me yet.

I’ve become much friendlier since I’m a mom. Ever see those tiny babies in the store? They just make you smile. When I first started taking baby Timothy places, people would smile, and even stop, and chat. I heard about strangers' red-headed grandchildren more times than I can remember. Even tough tattooed motor-cyclers smiled at my baby. I have always been a little nervous about talking to strangers, but God wasn’t finished with me yet.

My grandpa was in a nursing home when Sarah was born and I was there at least twice a week. Grandpa’s room was at the end of a long hallway, and it was amazing how all those people’s faces would smile to see Tim toddling down the hallway. I found myself stopping so little ladies could peek in on baby Sarah and then tell me how much their newborns weighed. I was starting to become less shy and realizing that in talking to others, I was giving them the gift of listening. But God wasn’t finished with me yet.

Twins added a whole new dimension. Having four kids under four years old seemed to evoke some pity among strangers, and a few, “I remember those days.” We went camping with 18 month old twins. A lady smiled and simply said, “It gets easier, really.” Turns out she had 8 year old twins. But God wasn’t finished with me yet.

This new chapter afforded questions from strangers. “How do you do it?” I heard a lot. I gave a lot of “arrow answers,” where you simply point to God and His grace. But God wasn’t finished with me, not yet.

Now, I have a four-year-old who is as social as his father. Not Ryan as a shy child (yes, I didn’t believe it either), but Ryan as an outgoing person, only Lucas lacks tact and maturity. My Lucas stands on the end of the shopping cart, smiling from ear to ear and waving hi at each person he passes. He makes eye contact and even touches people. He touched the arm of an older gentleman who looked none too friendly and I was shocked as a beautiful smile etched his face and he said, “well, hello there young man.” But God wasn’t finished with me yet.

Last month, we went downtown and watched dancing at Rosa Parks Circle. It didn’t matter if the person was the cop on duty or a Goth teen with a Mohawk, Lucas would smile, say Hi, put his hand on their arm or leg and ask their name. He talked to everyone that night and seemed to think they had all gathered just to talk to him. He even joined the line dancing. He asked the cop to dance. The stern officer smiled, “I’d love to, but I’m on duty.” When Lucas turned to wave goodbye, at least half the crowd waved, even the Goth kid.

But God isn’t finished with me yet, and you know what, I am glad.

Vacation Bible School

The Vacation Bible School Phenomenon

Is VBS a local phenom? I don’t know, but the signs pop up in church yards each summer. I remember a friend telling me how nice it was to bring her kids to VBS for a couple hours each evening Monday through Thursday while she got some needed shopping done or went out with just the husband. It sounded great, so I thought I would try it.

My first attempt was last summer, when Marc and Luc were three. They can be a handful by themselves and when I saw 17 preschoolers and two teachers the first night, I stayed. Tim and Sarah seemed to do okay in their classes. Sarah cried but made friends with her teacher, who actually carried her around. Sarah loved it. I would wave to them as our preschooler group passed them going from craft time to snack time to games to story time and back to the big group at the end. I thought, ‘maybe tomorrow night”…but I ended up planting seeds, passing out pretzels, and encouraging three year olds to listen to the story, and I was enjoying myself.

I thought, ‘maybe tomorrow night, I’ll slip away”, but that was the night Tim refused to listen and ran away. The pastor actually had to pick him up like a sack of potatoes after a 50 yard chase toward a busy road. I noticed him talking in the hallway with the pastor while passing from story to snack with the boys, and we all had a nice chat.

I thought “maybe tomorrow night, I’ll stick around.” Tim had a better attitude, we prayed about it, and hopefully learned something. So I stayed, glued popsicle sticks together, and helped color pictures of Jesus. To my surprise, I discovered this was our last night of VBS, and they even gave us a CD with some great songs that we sang in the van for months. I decided the pros outweighed the cons and we tried again. This time, at my parents’ church. Tim and Sarah didn’t want me to leave at all, even though Grandma and Grandpa were there, and since Ryan was in Grand Rapids, I stayed and had a great time helping.

This year, we went to three VBS’s, and you guessed it, I never escaped once, but to be honest, I didn’t try that hard. They even had a pool party and home-made tarp/sprinkler/tube water slide at our last one. My parents’ church even gave me a volunteer name tag on the third night. My children memorized scriptures, played with other children, respected authority, loved snack, and got to see people serving Jesus night after night, (plus they slept like logs).

I still have this fleeting dream of kissing my children and skipping away, hand in hand with the husband through a field of daisies toward a cute coffee shop, but…”maybe next year

Community Garden

How does our garden grow?

Like crazy, that's how! Yikes! We are part of a community garden at the church on our corner and I am astounded at the amount of produce our 12 x 16 plot has produced. These are wax beans, cucs, a green pepper and broccoli. This picture is from one trip to the garden. We have given away a ton of produce as well. We also had radishes, and we are growing carrots, potatoes and pumpkins. Oh, and the lettuce and collards too. We've had some interesting garden moments. Marcus walked with Daddy to the garden and ran home becasue he had to go potty. However, he forgot to ask Daddy and frantic Dad called me to verify whereabouts. My favorite garden moment is Lucas sitting next to the lettuce, eating piece after piece.

Our friend Trisha

We have had five children this summer. This is Trisha Cook, our neighbor girl. If you have been to our house this summer, you have met Trisha, as she is here each and every day. At first, it was kind of strange to have her around and to supervise all the kids and familiarize her with our schedule and house rules, but now it seems strange when she isn't here. Of course she has a family of her own and she doesn't sleep here, but we love her very much and try to treat her like one of the family. Please pray for us as we minister to this young girl and her family. She gave her heart to Jesus this summer, and I pray that she will continue to love and serve Jesus as she grows up. Trisha is 10 years old.

When Science Comes to You

This spring it was a ball of spiders. We actually found another one by the back steps, but Marcus got to it before I got the camera. It would've been really cool to get them on video. If you blow on the ball, they spread out. Here is our before and after. (okay, so it's after and before, but if you wait awhile, they do go back into the ball shape.)

Good Mom/Bad Mom

This is one of the sculptures at the Frederick Meijer Gardens and Sculpture Park. (By Tom Otterness). My sons love to stop at “Mad Mom” and pose just like her. Last time, Lucas asked, “Where’s the happy mom?” “Right here,” I answered, pointing to myself and smiling. Ooo…how clever. Lucas laughs, but Timothy groans (Yikes, when did he get so old?)

Sometimes I feel like a good mom and sometimes I feel like a bad mom. And therein lies the problem. Motherhood cannot be defined by my feelings. Does it make me feel like a good mom when I watch a mom wrestle her four year old out of a playland with cajoling and threats while my two pop out right when I say, “Boys, come.”? Is that a “good mom moment” for me, a moment when training has paid off? But should it be? I mean, where is my compassion for that wrestling mother? Am I a “good mom” by comparison? In reality, my emphasis is in the wrong place.

Am I a “bad mom” when Marcus throws himself on the floor at the library screaming because I said we are leaving in five minutes? Again, where is my focus?

Parenting is active, not reflective. I am not a parent because I am waiting for someone to say, “oh, good job there,” or “you messed up there”. Parenting is not about me. It’s not about whether I feel like a failure or a success. It’s about preparing my kids for their future. Parenting is a process.
Yes, I am going to be a “good mom”. I am going to train my children in the ways they should go.
Yes, I am going to be a “bad mom”. I am going to make mistakes. I am going to mess up.
But most of all, it needs to be about God and His Glory. I want to reflect Him to everyone, including that harried mom at McDonalds. I want my kids to see me reflect Christ. I am learning that it isn’t about me. It’s about Him. The good mom/bad mom feelings I have are not the point. I am not striving at being a good parent so I can feel good about it. I am striving at being a good parent for the glory of my God.

Things Kids Say

“Mom, for some reason; I’m not sure why. I’m starting not to like girls. I don’t know why.” (Tim, on the occasion of his sister’s sixth birthday).

“Dad is NOT a mammal because he doesn’t have any hair. Hee hee.” (Sarah, during science)

“My pants have oatmeal on them!” exclaimed Lucas, during breakfast, “but not my unders. They have a great hiding spot!”

We had the kids out all day for an “adventure”. It was now 8:30 pm, past bedtime on the way home and no one was sleeping in the van yet. Ryan asked Marcus, “Aren’t you tired?” His response, “No way Dad! Not even a yawn!” (Lucas added, “I have a yawn for you, Dad.”)

Ministry. It needs to be part of our natural response to the world around us. We need to put others’ needs ahead of our own.

Wednesday is officially “ministry day” at our house. We pray, talk, and look for ways to minister to others. I try to go with the kids’ ideas. This has led to cookies for the neighbors, praying for friends, and flowers to the “library ladies”. It has also led to praying for “that little girl who was crying so hard in the store today.” Or “grandma Doris, because she’s all alone EVERY NIGHT!”
Today we went to the grocery store. My kids always help put the groceries in the bags, but it’s a little difficult with eight little arms in and out of the cart. Tim and Sarah’s new job was their own ministry idea. They go out and bring the carts from the outside of the store (on the curbed sidewalk) into the store while the boys and I do groceries. We went to do this today, but they came back in and said they couldn’t do it today because there had been an accident. I peeked out the window and saw where a car had hit the carts, and smashed the little fence in front of them.

It was a couple older ladies and I think it was a case of hitting the gas instead of the brake. I saw them there. One sitting behind the wheel. Another talking to the Save A Lot manager outside the car. They had their car doors open and there seemed to be no injuries. My heart just went out to them. How they must have that shaky feeling inside. I wondered if they knew Jesus. The kids and I loaded the groceries. I got the kids and the groceries in the van. We were parked right next to their car. I thought, “I should pray for them.” Then it was, “I need to pray for them.” Then it was, “go pray for them,” and that was the Holy Spirit’s prompting. So I told the kids I would be right back and I knelt next to the car by the driver and asked if they were alright. They said they were fine. I asked if they would mind if I prayed for them. “oh, no, not at all.” I asked if they knew Jesus. “oh, yes!” So I prayed, nice and loud so they could both hear me. They were very thankful, and then I left.

I talked to the kids about it on the way to our next stop. We talked about how those ladies might be feeling inside. We talked about how God helped them. They didn’t hit the concrete posts on either side of their car, and they weren’t injured. “and they didn’t hit the van,” Tim added.

It was at that moment that the reality that "they could’ve smashed my kids" hit me. It hadn’t even occurred to me until that moment. I just hadn’t thought of it at all. Why was that?

My Tim and Sarah are at that same spot every week bringing cart after cart inside the store to minister to the store employees… they could have been seriously injured…I thanked the Lord for protecting my family and for protecting my mind while I prayed for those ladies. I share this story because I can’t help but think, “How marvelous, how wonderful is my savior’s love for me!” and I am so grateful to walk in His grace every day.

Creepy Crawlie

“Hey honey, come look at this HUGE bug I found in our bedroom.” These are not the words a wife wants to hear. Unless she’s one of those people fascinated by such things. I, however, am not one of “those people”. Especially if the creepy crawlie is in my bedroom.

“He’s four inches long with some sort of long tail.” I cannot figure out how to respond to this, so I remain silent. Husband comes downstairs holding a glasses case. “I got him. He was in the window. See?” He opens the glasses case and I see bits of creepy-crawlie, very fast creepy-crawlie. I shudder a little and try to suppress the girly squeal. “What?” he says.

“Let’s bring it outside and show the kids,” I try to keep my voice normal. Tim gets a peek at creepy crawlie, but Ryan opens the case again and the creepy crawlie flies away before Sarah gets a chance to see it. She is genuinely miffed about this and I briefly wonder if she is one of “those people”. Of course it wasn’t in her BEDROOM.

I only want to know two things, “What was it? Will there be any more of them?”

My husband searches the internet and about ten minutes later, he has a full report on Megarhyssa, a wasp, formerly known as the creepy crawlie. He even has a picture to show Sarah. Click here for the rest of the story.

Megarhyssa Wasps (Ichneumonidae) on Oak