Make Yourself Available to be Used by God
http://www.findaverse.com/kjvbible/index.php?begin=0&keyword=Ephesians+5%3A25-30&search=Search&section=0&lexicon=str&p_display=trad

Have you heard this scripture teaching before?

“Husbands, love your wives as Christ loved the Church, and gave himself up for her…”

Wow! Now that is a hefty responsibility for a husband. To love his wife so sacrificially that he is willing to die for her? Now that’s love, true love. If you continue reading this Galations passage, you discover that the scripture does not work in the reverse. “Wives, love your husbands as Christ loved…” It’s not in there… Really, it’s not in there. This leads to the conclusion that IF the husband can truly love his wife in this way, her natural response will be to truly love HIM in return. It’s pretty amazing how God designed men and women to go together.

However, this command to husbands does not dissolve our love responsibility IF our husbands are not exactly loving us this way.

In fact, the New Testament does provide some specific instructions about loving our husbands. In Titus, the Bible instructs the older women to teach the younger women to love their husbands. This was a new one to me. I mean I had read the passage, but it had never really hit me the way it did this week.

I pose this question, are you the younger woman or the older woman? Maybe, like me, you are both. I’ve been married 15 years. I have knowledge and experience to teach younger women about marriage but I also have loads to learn.

If you are a Christian woman, I challenge you to action. In order to fulfill this scripture, make sure you are available. Don’t be afraid to ask younger wives how it is going. Don’t be afraid to ask older women for help. Be sensitive to the Spirit. Make yourself available to be used by God. Granted, you don’t want to dump “101 tips for communicating with your husband” on someone who didn’t ask, but you want to be there for the younger women who says, "Hey, I’m really frustrated here. What can I do?" Make yourself available to be used by God.

Look at the older marriages you admire. Call someone in your church directory or send them a note. “I notice you and your husband seem to communicate well. From what you shared in Sunday School, you mentioned marriage is work. I wonder if you would be willing to share with me what you’ve learned.”

If you go to a wedding, make a note in next year’s calendar to send that one year anniversary card. Write your “how is it going?” question and include your phone number or email. Make yourself available to be used by God.

If you see an anniversary date for that couple in church who you admire, send a card. Write your “what makes a great marriage?” question and include your number or email. (You already know what I am going to write next.) Make yourself available to be used by God.

My mother called me. She said, “Did you hear what happened to your sister on Easter Sunday?” Sounds interesting, “What happened?” “Well-oh, I have another call. I’ll have to call you back.” Two days later, I still haven’t heard from my mother, but she’s my mother, she will eventually call me back, but I am curious….
Thursday, my sister calls me. “So, what happened to you on Easter?” She laughs, “Oh, that was interesting-well,-oh, I have another call. I’ll have to call you back.” Two days later, I am still curious, but she’s my sister. She’ll call back. . . .eventually…I am really not curious enough to invest in long distance to find out the answer, so I will have to wait….

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

I know everyone has seen this viral video (Susan Boyle), but I still think it speaks volumes about the judgmental nature of our society as a whole. It is a great reminder of this scripture, “Man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” I Samuel 16:7 Everyone you see is created by God, created in his image, and everyone needs God’s grace in their lives. I pray that God may give us his eyes so we can see.

P.S. I am going to sing like this in heaven one day.

Timothy's AYSO Schedule

Timothy’s soccer schedule
Attention: Soccer Fans! Timothy would like to invite you to attend his soccer games if you are able. Bring a lawn chair. Tim’s fan club would also love to see you there. (Mom, Dad, Sarah, Marc, and Luc). His team is called "The Green All Stars".

Saturday, April 18 Port Sheldon Field 3 11:45
Saturday, April 25 Port Sheldon Field 3 9:15
Saturday, May 2 Port Sheldon Field 6 1:00
Saturday, May 9 Port Sheldon Field 3 10:30
Saturday, May 16 Port Sheldon Field 3 8:00
Saturday, May 25 Port Sheldon Field 3 1:00

Let us know if you need directions.

Five things four year old boys can do.
1. Break light bulbs from ten feet away!
2. Fling sand twenty feet
3. Remove all the sand from the sand box and deposit it in front of the steps (yes, on the
would-be grass) in less than 20 minutes.
4. Plastic seats on tricycles are not good. Packing tape is good.
5. Flood the bathroom by plugging the sink and leaving the water running. Mom, there’s a
FLOOD!!
6. Go through 3 pairs of pants, and wear a hole in the top of one tennis shoe all in the space of
three hours.
7. Speak very loudly very early on Easter morning, "Happy Easter! Mom, the stone was
rolled away! Happy Easter!"
8. Give great big hugs and say, “no, no, no, I love you MORE!” oops, that’s eight.

“My husband is unemployed.”
“We don’t have an income.”
“Our health insurance ends April 30.”

These are such strange statements to make. It’s been one week since Ryan drove to work and found himself without a job. One week of adjustment, unemployment paperwork, and meetings. These statements sound so final, so hopeless, so typical of “the economic downturn” we keep hearing about. So, I offer a few followup statements.

“God is in control.”
“’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.’”
“Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified. Do not be discouraged, for the Lord, your God, is with you wherever you go.”

While I am not presently terrified or discouraged, it creates peace within me to know that I am not alone and that God’s ultimate purpose will prevail. If I tell you I am doing well under the circumstances, please ask me, “What are you doing under there?”
God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of courage and a sound mind. Praise the Lord for that!



Cardboard Testimonies Broken Vessel Click on link to see video.

Yes. This says, “Mom, you are weird.” Those of you who know me and love me realize that this observation can’t possibly be true and…Wait a minute…why are you looking at me like that?

Homeschool Tip: Buy these magna-doodle things (or ask for them as gifts). My seven-year-old and five-year-old love to find notes from Mom. Then, they often write me back. (And they don’t always say I am weird….Sometimes they say "I love you") Sometimes I leave just the beginning of a verse Tim is working on or just the reference. Kids need to practice their letters, phonics, and spelling and this gives us a great way. I love it when they say, “Don’t look, Mom, I am writing you a secret message.” Then they ask, “How do you spell ‘weird’?” hee. Hee. We also use them in the car. Tim and Sarah write notes to each other or spell out notes to me.

Four year olds love to play pretend. On Sunday, Timothy and Sarah had fevers, so Ryan stayed home with them. Marc and Luc and I were on our own. As I buckled them in Daddy’s car, the adventure began.
“Where are our sunglasses?” Luc wants to know.
“In the van.”
“But we are in Dad’s car,” says Marc
Luc adds, “How can we be secret agents?”
“You’ll just have to pretend your regular glasses are sunglasses.”
“Hey Mom, you can be an agent too!”
“You have glasses too!”
“Okay, secret agents,” I start the car and we are on our way to church, “what’s our mission today?”
“We have to rescue people.” Luc states.
“Mom, do you see that dot way down the road?” Marc asks.
Not really, but I will oblige, “I see it. What is it?”
“That is a T-rex!”
“A T-rex?”
“Yes!” says Marc.
“He’s going to eat up the church,” reveals Luc.
“We’ve got to stop him!” says Marc.
“Oh, how do we do that?” I ask.
“Drive faster mom!” shouts Marc.
“We have to get between the T-rex and the church!” says Luc, using his hands to illustrate.
“Okay, hang on.” We keep driving.
“Mom, there’s someone behind us!” Luc says.
“Who is it?”
“It’s a George, and he’s an agent too!” (George is our family name for a “squirrel”)
“oh really?”
“yes, the car did not squish him flat.”
“He made it to the other side,” adds Marc.
“and now, he’s an agent too!” finished Luc.
“Mom! Mom! See that tower?” Marc points to one of those large towers where electrical wires run.
“I see it. Are you going to tie the t-rex to it?”
“Nope. I picked it up and put it on top of him and now he’s trapped.”
“He can’t get out,” says Luc.
“Whew! The church is saved.” says Marc.
At this point we are pulling into the parking lot. I park and get my agents unbuckled. Inside the door, I remind them that they are secret agents and agents always walk in church. “We will hang up coats and then you can go to your class. Mr. Pete and Ms. Deb can teach you all about how to be a secret agent who loves Jesus.”
“God loves us, Mom!”
“yes, that’s right.”
“even if we get angry.”
“even if you get angry”

At this point our pastor says Hi and bends down to talk to the boys at their level. I love it when grown ups do that.
“Hi Marc and Luc, how are you?”
“We saved church from the t-rex!”
“We are secret agents!” Lucas reveals with a sly smile.
“A t-rex?” asks Pastor Robert, feigning concern, “secret agents?”
“Don’t worry,” says Marc, putting his hand on the pastor’s arm, “he’s trapped in the tower!”
“We’re safe!” adds Luc, “ He won’t eat the church. Marc slammed the tower on him.”
“He won’t eat the people, either,” Marc shares.
“We’re secret agents,” Lucas reveals again, “but we don’t have sunglasses.”
“They are in the van!” says Marc.
“And George followed us!” says Luc. They both begin talking at once.
“He DID not get squished flat!”
“Mom drove fast!”
“You can’t run in church.” adds Luc.
“But God still loves you.”
“Even if you’re mad!”
“Time for class!” shouts Marc, spotting his teachers and heading down the hallway. Luc takes off too. So much for no running. I hurry off, saying something about imagination and follow my “agents” down the hallway. They have thankfully stopped running and are again regaling their tale of adventure to their Sunday School teachers. I arrive in time to hear,
“and he’s in the tower, so he won’t eat you, Mr. Pete.”
“you get to teach us to be good secret agents.”
“A real t-rex?” asks Ms. Deb.
The agents are thrilled by her interest, and tell their story again, adding more details, both talking at once, and so they head to class while mom sighs and thanks the Lord for people who love and teach my secret agents, oops, I mean little boys, how to love Jesus.

You think I have the organization gene? True, I have a list of meals in the cupboard. I have a tiny whiteboard with “meals for the week” stuck to the fridge, and I have a basic weekly schedule. Most laundry is Monday, most shopping is Wednesday. But for those of you list-lovers out there (you know who you are), you have got to check out www.donnayoung.org This lady has a yearly house cleaning schedule, yes yearly… She has cleaning light fixtures and washing baseboards. There’s a link on her website to Martha Stewart. It’s a little scary…But she’s got some good home school resources.

I also have it on good authority that www.flylady.com can help you to get organized also. Not so scary…

Sometimes a simple list is all I need. Like today:
Bible before breakfast
School Kids
Laundry
Clean Bathroom
Make Dinner

I can’t decide if it’s the list that helps or the actual physical process of checking off each item. Is there something that helps you stay organized? Feel free to comment or email me.
I heard of one mom who had the “accountability phone call” at 9pm each night. A friend would call and she would have to tell her if all was done or not.

Sister Mitts

Have you ever adopted any of those helpful hints from Heloise? It seems all my helpful hints have been adopted from the people around me.

I used to stuff these mitts in the same drawer as my dishtowels and dishcloths. However, since I only have three shallow drawers in the kitchen, I use the verb “stuff” quite literally. It’s actually more like fighting the mitts in and out every time I use them. It was during one of these such fights (the mitts were winning) that my dear sister intervened. “Why don’t you hang them?”
“What?” I asked without looking as I fought the mitts. I realized I couldn’t remember if I was trying to get them in or out of the drawer. “The mitts,” she replied, “I hang mine. It’s much easier.”

“Huh.” So with the help of a couple magnetic hooks, I now hang them, and she was right, it’s much easier. Don’t tell the mitts, but I think that means I won the fight.

Just add water

Can we raise Christians? Can we turn our kids out in molds like little faith-replicas of ourselves? Of course not. Have you noticed how parents of adults seem to take the credit for their child’s salvation and good choices? But if the kids made some “bad choices”, then… “he’s an adult and those were his choices to make”…Hmm…
If someone compliments your parenting, do you take the credit, or do you give it to whom it’s due? (Ouch)

Wow! Their kids turned out great. They must be great parents. Hmmm…always ask the why…what made them good parents…can good parents have kids that turn out bad? It’s not the parents that are the point. It’s the GOOD God they serve. I know that if I had not given my life to Jesus, my world-view and my parenting would be very different than it is. Am I a good parent? That’s not the point. I serve a GOOD God.

I don’t think I have ever met a true follower of Christ who could not point to a time or a moment in their life when they made the choice to give it all to Jesus. I have a couple of those times in my life, as a thirteen year old girl and again, at fifteen. Choices. I cannot manufacture those experiences for my child. God made my children; He knows them best; He knows what experiences are in store for them. He even knows, ultimately, what choice they will make.

So I can pray, prepare, but never presume they are “Christian” because I am. I will follow my Christ, and pray that those life-changing moments aren’t too painful for my children. I pray they will make the right choice when that moment arrives. I also recognize I may not be a part of that moment or even know about it until they are older. My parents raised me in a Christian home, made me go to church when I didn’t want to, but my moment was all my own. They didn’t even know about it until years later.

Still, I knew they loved me unconditionally. I knew they prayed for me. Ultimately, however, what mattered most was GOD’S love for me, his grace for me, his sacrifice on the cross, his plans for my surrendered life. So parents, be encouraged—pray, prepare, but never presume.

The Perfect Date (in three parts)

My husband is sooo good to me.
The first gift. Last evening, I had the wonderful privilege of meeting an artist as his own studio. This was very exciting to me. I love to look at great art. Paintings of intense, accurate color and depth where the artist has captured the impossible and now you, the viewer, get to see it. It’s like stopping a waterfall or actually holding fog in your hand.. Artists capture something. I loved looking at his work.

The lighting was so perfect. You can tell this is NOT his hobby, it’s his passion. That kind of experience is refreshing, and exhilarating. I think it’s why people like art museums. It’s like that tall, cold lemonade after mowing the lawn in July. It’s like that first shower after a week of camping. It’s like riding your bike for the first time in seven years. It’s like spring after winter…(oops, I’m getting carried away….sorry).
It’s a unique experience to look at a piece, comment and compliment it and have the artist say “Thank you.” It was great to hear him talk about his work. You could tell it was his heart, and his God-given passion.
Artist Details

The second gift
They live in a beautiful old school house. Yes, it’s one of those places you drive by and wonder what it’s like to live there. I actually got to go inside! (my mom is going to be envious of that one). They originally had a 30 foot ceiling in there. It still has the original chalkboards, flooring and walls. They have even had older persons stop by and ask to see inside, mentioning that they went to school there. Karen even said, “They always go right to their own spot and say, ‘this is where my desk was.’”. Her current goal is refitting the ceiling with pressed tin as it was originally. It was a real treat for me to be there. They homeschool their children so she has been able to teach her children in the same room where the children of Civil War soldiers learned their ABC’s.

The third gift (yes, I saved the best for last)
It was simply listening to this couple’s faith in the Lord. They told story after story of Jehovah-Jireh, God our provider. Randy shared how God broke his pride, gently prodding, “Will you let ME bless you?” Karen shared how they ate the last dinner in the cupboards and gathered the children together to pray for their next dinner, asking and believing God would provide. An hour and a half later, a family knocked on their door and brought in bag after bag of unasked-for food. They filled the couch and beyond with food. While Karen and Randy were in tears, the children took it right in stride. They prayed, God provided. A simple faith. Ryan and I also shared many of the ways God has taught us through the years, and it was a very encouraging, uplifting, and edifying evening.

So, thank-you, man I married, for my date. I adore you.

Things kids say

Sarah’s version of This is the Day ….. “I will be glad, and rejoice in HIM!”

Marc, after sneezing twice in a row, “Ohman, I really got the bless-yous!”

Lucas is watching me make pancakes, “Whatcha making?”
“Pancakes.”
“I don’t like pancakes,” he comments in a high squeaky voice.
“Oh, really? Why is that?” I have known this boy to down 4 pancakes in one meal.
“Cuz I’m a BBAAADDD princess!”

Marcus, after I put on his “cape”, “Mom, Mom, we are superheros!”
Lucas, also wearing a “cape,” “Yup, we’re Batman and John!”
“Oh really?” I know they have never seen Batman and I’m curious, “Batman and John?”
“Yeah, I’m John, and he’s Batman!”.
“What about Robin?”
“nonono, mom! I’m JOHN and he’s BATMAN!”

Tim, “Mom, could you explain maturity level?”

Five Things

Five things to love when you can't move without pain.
1. Good friends
2. Kids who bring you things
3. Muthle relacther (Muscle relaxer)
4. Personal massage therapist (yes, my Daddo)
5. TV that pauses, (and times how long it takes you to go downstairs and come back up)

Five things to never do.
1. Never throw out your back (you may need it again someday)
2. Never pick up the four year old
3. Never pick up two four year olds in a row, as in "Up into the van with Marcus, now Lucas, back down out of the van Lucas, now Marcus." Repeat at three stores in a row.
4. Never be afraid to ask for help
5. Never forget to pray for healing.

The Eighteen Month Rule

Isn't winter a great time to clean out your cupboards, closets, basements, garages, and toy boxes? I have the 18 month rule. If it hasn’t been used in 18 months, it needs to go. That way, someone else can use it.

Also, if I find the cutest thing at a garage sale, I must ask, “Where am I going to put this?”

I’m not sure if it’s living in a smallish house that makes me this way or if it’s because my mom loves stuff. Her basement is like a museum. Need a pulpit? She’s got one. She also has a church pew, a barn lantern, an antique stove, antique kitchen cupboard (with a flour bin), cross country skis, a hospital bed, and…you get the idea. Of course, she does have plans for most of these items, and she does have room to store them. Plus, the pulpit has cupboards and it’s where we keep all the games. Wanna play Yahtzee, Dad? It's in the pulpit. Items must have PURPOSE or PLANS. If not, they need to go.

Still, we need to be careful of our junk taking over our reason. I do not need to be purchasing size 12 girls clothes for Sarah, plus I have no place to store them. Also, I may have perfectly good things that can be used by others. If I leave them in storage, am I being a good steward?

So, simplify. I look around and ask, do I need this, really? I either give it to people or give it to the mission thrift store. Isn’t it funny? I don’t want to have a garage sale because it makes me feel greedy, but I love to shop at them and find a bargain. (I got Mark and Luke’s mittens and gloves for 50 cents each last year at a sale, and they use them every day all winter long!)

I say all this to say. No more justification for that coat you wore in seventh grade. You wore it in your yearbook picture. Keep the picture and ditch the coat. And the ice-cream maker from your grandma? The one you have not used in 7 years, that’s gotta go. And the coat with the broken zipper, are you really going to fix it? Has it been 18 months? Take it to an alteration place or let it go.

Make it a family project. Talk about STEWARDSHIP and GENEROSITY. Look for examples of these in the Bible and in others. Get a large bag and fill it. Let your kids give toys away. Watch them think about and care for others. Pray about who will get these things. You will be blessed.

Happy Heart

We have all heard the term “Proud Papa” and felt that prideful feeling when our kid does something great, but isn’t pride our enemy, according to the Bible?
“Everyone who is proud in heart is an abomination to the Lord; assuredly, he will not be unpunished.” Prov. 16: 5

What do we do with parental pride? Well, it’s okay because it’s your kid? I don’t think so. Pride is a selfish, sinful disease that steals God’s glory and points directly to “I”. So, keep your parental pride in check.

When you see your kids make good choices, be glad, and be grateful, but don’t be prideful. Do people tell you “You’re a good parent. You are doing a good job.”? Don’t take the credit. Point out who is truly responsible. It is the Lord who enables us to be good parents, isn’t it?

The Bible does not say “a wise son makes a proud father.” It says, “a wise son makes a glad father.” Do you see the subtle difference? Be glad, be grateful, but avoid the trap of pride.

So, do we tell our kids, “I’m proud of you..” Should they be seeking our pride? My four-year-old recently asked me, “Mom, do I make your heart happy?” “Honey, when you make good choices, you make my heart happy and more importantly, you make God’s heart happy.”

Maybe it comes down to my own relationship with God. Do I want Him to be proud of me or do I want to make His heart happy?

A wonderful week of sledding and play

Last week, the kids and I made the 90 mile trek to a big, beautiful house in the woods owned by massage therapists. That’s right, my parents, the grandparents, welcomed us up for a wonderful week of sledding and play.

Except on Tuesday, it was 50 degrees and very wet. We all fell down on the ice. Tim didn’t want to leave the house, but kept talking to me on the walkie-talkie. I buried Sarah in a snow bank with the kick sled. Lucas had to go potty. Sarah’s socks were wet. But we were still up for a wonderful week of sledding and play.

Except the next day it rained. Then Sarah got very sick and started throwing up. We slept with the trash can between us. Tim made it outside to sled with Papa, but returned so Papa could get first-aid due to a face-plant and a bleeding chin. The next day Tim had a fever, and a headache, and another night with the trash can between us. But we were still up for a wonderful week of sledding and play.

Except on Thursday, the dog bit Lucas on the hand. The blind man was the only witness. A call to the doctor, much cleaning, Neosporin, and many band-aids later, Lucas was calm and watching a movie. Tim went out with Papa, but lost a glove. On Friday, the dog bit Lucas again, only without breaking the skin. Bad dog. But we were still up for that wonderful week of sledding and play.

Except on Saturday, our last day, Grandma woke up sick and slept with the trash-can most the morning. I went to the store for medicine, except the van didn’t start. The tow guy threw out his back getting the van down the hill. He took it to a place that was open until 6:00. Except they couldn’t get to it until Monday. Sarah sat down on the floor and announced she wanted to go home. But we were still stuck there at the end of our wonderful week of sledding and play.

Except my wonderful husband, the man I married, drove 90 miles up to rescue us and 90 miles home so we could all sleep in our own beds last night. Whew! Perhaps next winter we will be up for another wonderful week of sledding and play.

Praying Grandmas

Did you have grandmas who prayed? Did they pray with you and for you? Did you know they served Jesus?

This weekend, it was Mama's turn to be sick, which is tough on the whole household. So we cancelled our birthday party for Marcus and Lucas on Sunday. Since Ryan's parents were going to be in town anyway, they asked if they could drop off presents for the guys. I was feeling better and lying low on the couch when they arrived. The first thing my mother-in-law said was "How are you feeling? I was awake in the night praying for you." I thanked her and was grateful that my kids have a Nana who prays.

This week we are up at my mom's. While Sarah and Grandma did puzzles, grandma received a phone call from her sister. She needed prayer for an important test. My kids were able to hear their grandma praying.

What a wonderful blessing my kids have.

mama minion

Mama-minion

Well, we lost a gun. Well, we didn’t lose it; it actually died. Yes, conservative little me, let all my children play with guns. It’s a Tuesday night tradition. Since Dad has class, we get out the disc-shooters and shoot multi-colored foam discs EVERYWHERE. I am the un-jammer and loader, while the boys and Sarah have a great time. It’s actually one of Ryan’s favorite games, and when I saw them at Christmas, I purchased four of them for the boys, counting Ryan as the fourth boy.

Tonight, one gun died. It was not jammed, it just stopped. I replaced the batteries. Still, no happy hum…Lucas was beside himself with grief. Sarah comforted him and actually gave up her gun. Happiness restored, Lucas kept loading and shooting. Tim announced, from the high ground on the top bunk bed, that Sarah could be his “good minion”. (No evil minions allowed of course.) So she proceeded to gather ammo so King Tim could load faster. Marcus and Lucas also announced that they were “minions” as well. This was just too funny to mama, who decided to be mama-minion. So if you call on Tuesday nights, between 7 and 7:30, there will likely be no answer, as the minions (and king Tim) will be shooting foam discs EVERYWHERE.

Five Things

5 reasons to love the internet
1. We are reading Swiss Family Robinson and have looked up most animals (just to see their picture or video, plus words we didn’t know.)
2. There are VIDEOS about how to unclog your toilet! (This seems to happen when Ryan isn’t home.)
3. I can find out what my friends and family are up to without even talking to them (except for grandma of course. My kids love getting picture slide shows in email.)
4. You can copy pictures for use in your own albums or blogs. (I saw a shoe-tree while on a northern Michigan trip with Ryan and it was so strange, I wanted to take a picture but we were on the highway. Online, I found a photo of the same tree and added it to my album.
5. You can order Christmas and birthday presents, or hard to find books without leaving your home.

Story-time

Story-time at the Library for 3-5 year olds. Tuesday mornings 10 am.
Sounds great, what a good idea. Hear stories, sing songs, do a project. This is perfect for Marc, Luc, and Sarah. Maybe I could read a book while I watch….Well, that was my first thought….

Tim was thrilled. He could play on the library computers (all the big kids are in school) so he wouldn’t be on a time limit. Off he went.

Marc and Luc wanted to play trains. I carefully explained the benefits of story time and dragged them both to the proper area. It was a new situation for Sarah so she clung to my leg. I couldn’t let go of Luc for fear he would run to the trains. I actually got four coats, and four sets of mittens and gloves extricated without letting go of anyone. (or anyone letting go of me).
I instructed the kids to get carpet squares and sit by the other kids. To my complete astonishment, Marcus complied, grabbed his square and sat right down. Sarah would not move from my leg, and where was Lucas? He was sitting by the moms, in a grown up chair, between two women he had never met. One of them was reading a book. Lucas’s arms were crossed, but he was quiet. I left him there, and walked to Marcus, dragging a girl on my leg. I put her carpet square down and she let go of my leg, but not my hand. She knew the librarian who said “Hi sarah,” and once the story started, she was fine. Marcus lasted through the first story before he began to lie down, touch his neighbors, kick his boots, sing (when no one else was) and shout. Meanwhile, I had gone to talk to Lucas. I talked him into sitting on my lap, but he was not going by those other kids and had started to loudly protest.

At the same time, I heard Sarah’s voice, “Sit up, Marcus!” Okay, put Luc down, sneak over to Marc and tell him to listen. He is now stomping like a dinosaur, and not sitting. (No one else is stomping like a dinosaur. The stories are about bugs. A little girl is staring at him like he’s a maniac.)

I bring Marcus over to Lucas. Lucas is now crying, and I have come to the conclusion—THIS IS NOT WORTH IT, plus I am disturbing others. The woman with the book has raised an eyebrow in my direction. But Sarah is now having much fun, singing the itsy bitsy spider and listening to the story. I tell Sarah I am taking the boys to the train area.

The boys are happy. The mom feels defeated. All the other children are in storytime except for a one and a half year old and his mama. We discover her son and my son are both named Lucas. She is pregnant and shares it’s a boy. They had the name Marcus picked out, but thought Lucas and Marcus sounded strange together. “Oh, those are my boys’ names,” I blurt out. She does the polite, “oh really,” thing and the conversation fizzles. I pick out books for the boys.

More kids show up at the trains. The other mom encourages her son to share, “Lucas, you need to share.” My son looks right at her, then hands a train to a new kid. I guess there are advantages to name-sharing, and this makes me smile.

Sarah exits story time smiling and skipping. “She even stamped my hand!” She proudly displays her hand. Even the boys oohh and ahhh at the ink-bug on the back of her hand. I guess we are coming back next week for story-time. Maybe I’ll bring a book to read.

Field trip for the eyes

The Prodigal Son Field Trip

Today we journeyed to Calvin College’s Spoelhof Center and made our way down the stairs to the basement where this beautiful little art gallery is tucked away. There we viewed, read, and DID NOT TOUCH an amazing collection of art work depicting the Prodigal Son story. We re-read the story when we arrived home and drew pictures. A good time was had by all, especially Mom (I’m a little artsy).
Check out some of the beautiful art work
http://www.calvin.edu/centerartgallery/

And now, just a little poetry to reflect our wintry internment..
From The Snowstorm by Ralph Waldo Emerson

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,
And veils the farm-house at the garden's end.
The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm....

Just a little Emerson...

When you do get out, and drink in the barren lanscape, skeletal trees, and sky the color of nothing, look at the snow. Can you comprehend it's bright white? White on the fields, white on the landscape, obscuring common shapes into strange fluffy knobs and lines, white so bright it stings the eyes, white so bright it brings tears. Remember the white that replaces the black ugliness of your sins. Remember the compassion. Remember the sacrifice, and drink in the white of forgiveness.

Things Kids Say

After sledding down a hill, Marc is on his way back up with Aunt Brennie.
“Aunt Brennie, my boots are tired.”
“Aren’t your FEET tired?” Aunt Brennie asks.
“Nope. Just my boots.”

Mama to Luc, “Where’s my hug?”
Luc, with a big grin and arms outstretched, “It’s right here.in my arms.” (sniff..)

Timothy says, “Mom, after you die, you can go to heaven and see your grandma and papa who died a long time ago from smoking. I bet there’s a no smoking sign right on the door to heaven. “No smoking or you’ll go to Hell.” Do you think that sign is there?”

Timothy asked Ryan what a politician is, and after a brief explanation from Dad, I asked Tim if he would like to be a senator someday or work in the government. HE grinned as only a seven year old boy can, "Nope, I want to be a MYTHBUSTER."

January 13, 2009. Twenty years ago today, my husband's sixteen year old brother, Brad Westphal, went to be with the Lord, after it was discovered he had leukemia while on Christmas Break. He was a smart, funny, good-looking kid, who is still missed by his big brother, even after all this time.

I am reminded of Ecclesiastes and the times. There is a time to weep, and a time to mourn. ...a time to die....a time to be born....and God's time is always perfect. That can be really hard to accept sometimes.

My cousin, Jenny, gave birth to a beautiful baby girl on January 13. Kinsley Lynn. It is her time to be born. The beginning of the life God has given her. Life is such a gift.

Same date, different times. So for me, the 13th was a nostalgic sadness for Ryan's brother, and a teary happiness for this new baby. All day and every day belongs to God. And I am so grateful.