“Mom, I am so ready to go to heaven.” Nine year old boy.

“I have those days too, my son.”

“What’s your pick for Jesus’ return?”

“I don’t have one.”

“You don’t have one?”

Nope. It’s kind of like this. You are waiting to go on vacation and you keep asking your Dad, “Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet?”

Dad finally looks at you and says, “I will let you know when it is time to go, just trust me. You aren’t going to miss it.” It’s like that.

“Well, I’m just waiting for God to say, “Kids, get in the van.”

“Me, too, son, me, too.”

The Five Laugh Challenge

The Five Laugh Challenge

“I challenge you to laugh five times today.” A facebook challenge from an out of state cousin. The post itself made me laugh. Did she forget my family? The six year old twins are good for at least six laughs each….but I will try one laugh for each family member today.

I ran around chasing madly (never quite catching him) this morning, in search of my Bible for Bible study. In desperation, I left a voicemail for the husband, but then the children found it, on the living room floor between the vent and the golf clubs, definitely not in its usual spot. The funny part was when I returned home and the answering machine message intoned, “It’s by the vent and the golf clubs.” This was in my husband’s voice and I was astounded. I didn’t expect an answer, and certainly not an accurate one. That made me laugh since this is usually the man who needs me to find things for him. It was a role reversal today and it made me giggle.

During Bible study, Lucas disobeyed his teacher and Mama had to intervene. When I told him he was going to go and apologize, he said, “I need a moment. I’m just too cryable.” That one made me laugh, albeit not at the moment, but later.

During the Bible study, called “Loving Your Husband,” there were at least five laughs as we encouraged each other and shared experiences regarding those men we married and how best to love them. The three s's were shared and had us all laughing: Sex, Sports, and Sandwiches

Last week was the daughter’s birthday. She is now eight years old and finished her end of level spelling test. She is now in 6^th. grade spelling. Her open mouthed expression and wide eyes as she said, “Sixth grade? No Way!” made me laugh too.

The nine year old makes me laugh every day too. His antics while carrying the kiddie pool on his head today with such a silly face made me laugh out loud at the store.

Maybe I’m just an easy laugher. I put the kiddie pool purchase as a facebook status. One friend asked, “Are you going to let the kids use it, too?” That made me laugh.

Marcus read his whole “Jet Bed” book today and told me that the Web men in the book were only real in his imagination. That made me laugh, too.

Yikes, it’s only 2:00 pm and that five laughs a day quota is long filled. I hope tomorrow is as laughable as today.

A funny thing

A funny thing happened on the way to our first family vacation. This was to be the first family vacation since we’ve had children. Our children are 9, 8, and 6 year old twins so it has been at least a decade.

We picked a short vacation. A two night stay at a Great Wolf Lodge (Water park Hotel) about 3 hours from our home. We packed up the van, got water for the kiddos, coffee for ourselves and we were off into the wild blue yonder!

Did I mention a funny thing happened? Well, we passed the highway entrance and decided on more of an adventurous route. At the next stoplight, we stopped for the red light. When the light turned green, and we waited to turn left, our brakes did not work. Yep, you read that right. Pedal to the floor and NOTHING. We tapped the truck in front of us, effectively stopping us and thankfully, causing no damage to either vehicle.

Sure enough, brake fluid was leaking out onto the pavement. Apparently, we had blown a brake line. We called the police, put on the flashers and headed for the sidewalk. We were still less than two miles from home and Ryan’s sister and brother-in-law were available to come and rescue us. While we waited, I took the kids on a little walk around to the back of the shops facing the street. As we turned the corner, we saw what looked like a huge multicolored tarp being spread out in the back parking lot.

“In five minutes,” a man informed us, “this will be a bounce house.” Then two kids came out of the store carrying balloons and animal crackers so the kids went in and each received their own balloon and crackers, which mom got to hold while they were able to bounce in the “Noah’s Ark” bounce house.

One woman shared some Bible story books with us, and another gentleman asked for permission to videotape the kiddos for the store’s facebook page. My sister-in-law soon arrived, retrieved booster seats and we were on our way back home.

Thank you Lord, for providing. Thank you that our brakes didn’t fail after we were on the highway and far from home. Thank you that we weren’t involved in a serious accident. Thank you for providing entertainment while waiting. Thank you for providing a way home. Thank you, Lord that we have two vehicles and can take the other one on vacation. Thank you, thank you.

Wonderment

Wonderment

Deep jade tips

poke through fresh dirt

small in their beds, like

sleeping little girls growing every night.

White and green party ribbons uncurl

Stretch and explode like

a young maid's long legged dance.

Hostas unfurl

from green tips to full leaf beauty

before Mother's Day

Leaving us

Breathless with

wonderment.

Congratulations to my eight year old daughter, Sarah, on taking second place for second grade in the PBS Kids Go! Young Author's contest. Here is her prize winning story.

The Rabbit Who Thought He Was a Dog

Once upon a time in a beautiful green meadow, there lived a group of rabbits. One of these rabbits was named Rex. Rex did not believe he was a rabbit. He thought he was a dog. He walked like a dog, sat like a dog, and even tried to bark like a dog. Worst of all, he chased the other rabbits.

The other rabbits were very worried about Rex. They sent their leader to have a talk with Rex. “Rex, we are very worried about you,” said the leader, “You seem to think you are a dog.”

“but I am a dog,” replied Rex.

“But you are not a dog,” insisted the leader, “you are a RABBIT! And you should do rabbity things.”

“But I am a dog,” said Rex, started to make a low, strange sound.

“What is that noise?” asked the leader.

“I am growling,” answered Rex and he chased the leader away.

The rabbits were still worried. Until one day when everything changed. A large brown furry creature with a large wet nose entered the meadow and began sniffing the ground. The rabbits all ran into their holes. But Rex did not.

Rex approached the large brown furry creature with a large wet nose. Rex began making a noise that almost, but not quite, sounded like barking. Rex tried to look like a dog and perked his ears up.

The large brown creature responded with a large “BARK!” and bounded toward Rex. Rex screamed very loudly and turned to run. As he ran as fast as he could, he realized that yes, he was a rabbit and not a dog. He dashed into a hole and the dog ran away.

The End

Do you have a sign on your bedroom door? If you did, what would it say? I bet we are the only couple in the neighborhood with a sign on our bedroom door. It says “Club for Mom and Dad love Mark”.

Of course, every sign has a story. Our four children, then ages 5-8, were making “clubs” out of their bedrooms, complete with paper signs. “Mama, can you PLEASE help me with my sign?” Mark begged.

There were dishes to be done, lists to be made, laundry to be folded, and….I sighed. I sat down at the table, “Sure, what will your sign say?” We had these sticky letters Dad bought that were leftover so we used those. He told me he wanted to make a sign for mom and dad’s door. “You need your own club, Momma, it’s important.” He didn’t want us to feel left out.

This was a very generous thought from a young five year old who knows what it’s like to be left out of older kids’ play. I handed him letters and he stuck them down carefully, very pleased with his work. I handed him the tape and let him attach it to our door. That was over six months ago. The kids’ clubs are long forgotten in a long line of hide-and-seek , dress up, legos, and all kinds of other games. My sign remains taped to my door. Perhaps I am sentimental but I just can’t take it down.

It’s a visual reminder of so many things:

1. Teaching my kids generosity. To always remind them to put others’ needs ahead of their own and avoid selfishness.

2. That Mom and Dad do need time together, and time together without the children. We need our own “club” to have a great marriage and to be great parents.

3. That my kids need my help with things, and that I do need to take time to spend with them. I can set aside laundry and dishes for a few minutes of quality time.

As parents and spouses, we need reminders about what is important, and this sign has become a symbol, a reminder of what’s important. Do you have a sign on your bedroom door?

The Coming

The woman came, Samaritan by birth

To the well by divine appointment.

The Jesish man spoke to her

“Give me water.”

At first shocked, she defined the cultural taboo,

“I am a Samaritan; you are a Jew.”

“If you knew me,” he answered,

“you would want living water.”

“Are you greater than Jacob?” she asked.

Oh, yes, she knew her history.

She also knew her need.

“Living water,” the Jew mentioned it again.

She stepped closer, her errand forgotten.

“Yes, this is what I want.”

“You have had five husbands and the man you have now

Is not your husband.”

Ah, yes, he knew her history.

He also knew her need.

“Prophet, sir,” she countered with respect,

“some worshipped in the mountains

Some worshipped in Jerusalem.”

This man spoke of true worship,

“in Spirit and in truth” and of

“salvation”.

Her hopes soared at the word,

“Messiah will speak this way…” she ventured,

Her heart realizing the truth, as he answered,

“I am He.”

Spirit soaring

Waterpot abandoned

She turned, splashing through living water,

To tell others

Messiah had come.

This is the link to Cowboy Mark, episode three.

"How Beautiful Are the Feet"

“What is up with the feet?” asks my friend who is watching my slide show scroll past while we visit in the living room. “There’s been like six pictures of feet, and I think they are all Tim’s.”

My son loves to take pictures of his own feet. Anytime he is given the camera, he will inevitably snap a straight down photo of his feet. Usually just one, and then he takes other normal pictures of events, sculptures, flowers, etc. My boy is nine years old, but has done this since he first started using the camera. He’s at a great age to be in charge of “taking pictures” and it keeps him busy at family events. I know he will get carried away and in amongst all the great shots of his sister’s birthday party there will be the one token shot of his own feet. We have pictures of sandaled feet, bare feet, feet in the sand, and feet in boots.

It’s usually just one, sometimes two shots of his feet. I think it has become a habit. Camera in hand simply means “feet in frame”-- click. The feet in his latest pictures have grown noticeably bigger and I am certain he will tower over his “tall” mom someday in the near future. While I have deleted several of these “feet” shots through the years, I did choose to let some go. Just so we will always remember that Tim loved to take pictures of his own feet.

Recently, there were pictures of my husband’s graduation on the camera. A nice one of the family, a nice one of Sarah and Marcus walking, one of a total stranger pushing carts, uh-oh, here it comes…one of his own feet…yet again…at least he had dress shoes on for the occasion.

I am so glad my children are unique, with their own quirks, favorite knock -knock jokes, and yes, even a fascinating photographer of feet. Psalm 139:14 says “I praise you because I am beautifully and wonderfully made.” It’s all these little individual facets of my children that make me smile when other people mention them. If you ask my son why he takes pictures of his feet, he will simply shrug his shoulders and answer, “I don’t know; I just like to.”

God has given my young son many wonderful unique attributes that are uniquely his, and this penchant for foot photos is just one aspect of his individual personality. I am grateful to God that my Tim has chosen to be a Christ follower, and that he shares his faith in Jesus with others whom he meets. He recently told me his language tutor is a Christian.

“How do you know that, Tim?” I asked.

“Well, I asked if she truly believed Jesus died for her sins, and she said yes.” It’s simple when you are nine years old, and I am grateful for his boldness, his candor, and his faith. This facet of his personality lends new meaning to those many pictures of feet. It brings to mind the Bible verse I will end with, “How beautiful are the feet of them who bring good news.” Romans 10:15

So the next time someone asks me, "What is up with the feet?" I may just share about my son's beautiful feet.

On May 7, 2011, my wonderful husband donned a black cap and gown and joined the graduation ceremony at Cornerstone university in Grand Rapids, Michigan. This had been a long day coming for his family and we were very proud. I wrote about the day as a Yahoo Contributor. Click here for details.

"In my opinion, the teaching, rearing, and training of children requires more intelligence, intuitive understanding, humility, strength, wisdom, spirituality, perseverance, and hard work than any other challenge we might have in life." ~James E. Faust

The Case of the Missing Jacket

I have failed miserably as a parent. Not in totality, but at least in one area with my nine year old son. It’s in the area of personal responsibility. That is, personal responsibility for his jacket. I have pointedly reminded him that his jacket is his responsibility and that he needs to keep track of it. I see you nodding as you read. You have had this talk. You see where this is going…

Wednesday afternoon: “Mom, I can’t find my coat, I think I left it in Aunt Lisa’s van.”

“Alright, then you need to call and check.”

“Can’t you call?” His voice borders on whining and I raise an eyebrow (sort of).

“Your coat is your responsibility. I will dial the number for you.”

The coat was not in Aunt Lisa’s van, but thankfully, she remembered seeing it on the back of the chair during our McDonald’s lunch. Later that night, the husband and son go to McDonald’s and find the jacket. Dad gives the “your jacket is your responsibility” talk. I sigh with relief. Whew! That oughta do it. DAD has spoken.

On Thursday (yes, the very next day), we took Grandma to the doctor. Guess who couldn’t find his coat later in the day? Same boy. I called the doctor’s office. Sure enough, it was there. Tim and I trekked over in the van, “Go in and get your coat.”

“Aren’t you coming?”

“No.”

“Will you please come in with me?” The almost-whine is back. So is the eyebrow (sort of).

“Your coat is your responsibility….etc…etc…” The boy went in and retrieved the coat.

Saturday (two days later, of course, it was over 60 degrees on Friday, who needs a coat, anyway!) after soccer, I see a strange blue shape on the grass…. “Tim, grab your jacket!”

Did I mention we also have a convenient set of hooks behind the back door where said-jacket is supposed to reside? Happily hung with the other little people jackets, only Tim’s hook is mysteriously empty. I notice this Sunday night and simply sigh and head for bed.

Monday morning and my son wants to know, “Mom, where is my jacket? It’s cold outside.”

I sigh, I say, “You mean, ‘Mom, I lost my jacket.’”

Red-nosed, and growing taller by the moment, my nine year old stands in the kitchen, a blank look on his face. I can tell he has no idea where his jacket is; he is completely clueless. I take pity on the boy this time…I hunt for the back-up jacket. You know, the garage sale one with the sticky zipper? (One of mom’s creative solutions for just such an occasion). Nope, I think that one got left at soccer practice. My dear son, bless his heart, is roaming the backyard this morning in his mama’s shrug….and later, we will have to figure out (once again) what happened to that jacket.

http://traceystidbits.blogspot.com/2010/02/five-things-that-i-love-to-wear-in.html

Found a new word today….Tornage…..that would be the damage and the carnage left by a tornado. Devastating, life changing events have occurred in our nation’s south. I was pouring morning coffee when my husband mentioned that over 100 people had perished in Alabama.

I set my cup down quickly. “Are you serious?” was my immediate reaction and probably echoes what many were thinking this morning. Yes, tornadoes do kill people, especially in “tornado alley”, but over 100 people, no way. My mind immediately went to my southern red-headed Alabama college friend who taught me to say “y’all” the proper way.

“This is WAY bad” was my next thought as I hopped onto facebook before turning on the television. My friend was alright, but Tuscaloosa, Alabama and many other states were not. I parked in front of the TV for awhile, my dazed brain trying to take in the devastation while scenes and facts from the Twister movie paraded through my thoughts. I also thought of Dorothy and remembered assuring my nervous kids that it wasn’t real. Only this was reality, and I am certain even children lost their lives. My heart and my prayers go out to those parents and families. Perhaps you feel that same sense of dazed loss that I do this morning, that “Are you serious?” feeling. Will you respond as I did? Will you pray?

Name Them One by One

Another day on the planet to count my blessings. Thank you Lord, for, (in random order):

1. Family

2. Friends

3. Hot coffee

4. Heater in the van

5. Washer and Dryer

6. Chocolate

7. The Bible

8. The ability to read

9. The best husband ON THE PLANET!

10. The smiles of my children

11. The humor of my children

12. The ability to drive

13. The telephone

14. Soft pillows

15. The internet

16. My Lord and savior, Jesus Christ

17. God

18. Life and liberty for all who believe

19. Freedom

20. Food

Here's a piece I wrote about home school spelling. How do you do spelling? Enjoy.

He who Calms the Storm (Sometimes)

Mark, “Mom, why is God doing this to me? Why is God making me sick?”
Mom, “Oh, honey, God isn’t making you sick,” I say as I hold him and rock him, “we live in such a fallen world.” My answer falls flat even to me as I comfort a feverish child and my own storms loom over me. Two days later, the boy is well and yet, his questions linger in my heart. How do I answer? How do I encourage his faith to grow?
God met me again and used our pastor’s message to help answer my son’s questions (and my own). In Luke chapter 8, the disciples wake Jesus because of a terrifying storm and Jesus calms the sea. But why was there a storm in the first place? God uses storms in life to draw us near to Him. Why does He do this? There is a certain truth that we will never know the full knowledge of God. Our childish intellect will always fail us in this area. It brings to mind a certain song, “Sometimes He calms the storm; other times He calms His child.” (Scott Krippayne).
Another thing to remember is that you are not alone in your storm. You are a Christ follower. Jesus is in the boat with you. He sticks closer than a brother. You must turn to him in your hour of need. And, ultimately, He will answer, in your storm and in mine. He went through the worst storm ever at the cross for us. As this truth sinks in, my questioning heart is stilled; there is peace after the storm.
“Come sit next to me, Mark. Mama wants to read to you about Jesus and a storm.”

This free slideshow design made with Smilebox

April is National Poetry Month

Were that I were a better poet

Could that I could spread a picnic

tablecloth on grass and

invite you all to sit

and share God’s love like

watermelon.

Would that I would

answer all your questions

see souls surrender

and watch His love

light up your eyes.

Were that I were a better poet

Can that I can

act in His walk

talk with His talk,

my own faulty gait

like an arrow

or a signpost.

Could that I could point you the way

were that I were a better poet.

A Patch of Old Snow

There's a patch of old snow in a corner

That I should have guessed

Was a blow-away paper the rain

Had brought to rest.

It is speckled with grime as if

Small print overspread it,

The news of a day I've forgotten-

If I ever read it.

Today, I am announcing my first guest blog.

Today's guest is Ms. Sarah Westphal, age seven. She is an avid reader, writer, and enjoys typing as well. I hope you enjoy her book review.

Library Lion-- A Book Review by Sarah Westphal

The Library Lion is written by Michelle Knudsen and illustrated by Kevin Hawkes.

This story is about a lion and a library. The lion goes into the library and becomes friends with the children and helps them reach high places. The lion loves story time. When they are done reading, the lion roars at the storyteller and Miss Merriweather tells him not to roar at the story teller. The lion helps the librarian (Miss Merriweather ). But Mr. Mcbee doesn’t like the lion. I like the book because it has a library and a lion and because it has the lion help the children and because Miss Merriweather always says, “Don’t run in the library.”

One day when Miss Merriweather was trying to reach a book, she fell off her stool and she couldn’t get up and so she told the library lion to go get Mr. Mcbee to come and help her. So the library lion ran to Mr. Mcbee’s office and roared in his face. Mr. Mcbee said, “You are not being quiet. You are breaking the rules.” The library lion knew that he broke the rules. The library lion left. Mr. Mcbee ran calling, “Miss Merriweather! The lion broke the rules!” Miss Merriweather was not in her chair. She said, “Sometimes there is a good reason to break the rules. Even in the library.” Miss Merriweather said. Miss Merriweather’s arm was broken.

The next day things were back to normal. Miss Merriweather’s left arm was in a cast and the doctor told her not to work hard. Miss Merriweather said, “Well, I have my lion to help me.” But the next morning the lion didn’t come. At three o’clock Miss Merriweather went to the story corner and the lion was not there. The people kept looking for the lion but they couldn’t find him.

One evening, Mr. Mcbee stopped by Miss Merriweather’s office on his way out. She was sad. He thought there probably was something he could do for Miss Merriweather. Mr. Mcbee left the library. But he did not go home. He walked around the neighborhood, looking for the lion. Finally he circled all the way back to the library. The lion was sitting outside, looking in through the glass doors. He told the lion, “No roaring allowed, unless you have a very good reason.”

The next day, Mr. McBee told Miss Merriweather, “There’s a lion in the library.” Miss Merriweather ran to meet her lion.

It is a very good book and well thought out. There are also very good illustrations in this book. You should read it.

Your Move

"Poets do not go mad; but chess-players do." ~Gilbert Keith Chesterton, Orthodoxy

Recently, (okay, not THAT recently), I visited a Christian coffee shop I love and played Scrabble with the man. If you have ever played Scrabble with the man you will know that he is a canny strategist who must weigh each decision. For him, scrabble is chess. This leaves a little down time between moves for me.

So I wandered to the books...bible, bible, Dobson,...a few others, but Nooo christian poetry...(well, other than the Bible, psalms, parts of the prophets, etc...) Not even good old dependable Helen Steiner Rice. What a travesty!

I was a little disappointed. I told the man. He muttered something about getting a z on the triple word score and didn't even make eye contact....I decided I must get some Christian poetry over here soon. Young minds are being deprived!

Later, when I returned home, I realized I did not want to part with any of my Christian poetry books. I love my Elizabeth Rooney, my Lucy Shaw, my Ruth Calkin, and even my Robert Frost (a small well worn paperback book I left at a park somewhere, arghh...must replace that soon). This resolve may be more costly than I'd supposed...

Good intentions sometimes lie dormant....no, I have not yet made my poetry delivery, but I found a wonderful poem to share today....if not with the coffee shop goers, then at least with my own little blog world.

It's Your Move

All through the long dreary hours

Of this rough toilsome day

I have struggled to believe

That Your plan is good

that the blows and bruises

Will stablish me

That the staggering changes

Will settle me.

I have struggled to believe

That Your way is perfect.

But waiting here alone

Shrouded in thick loneliness

I confess I don't see it.

Frankly I just don't see

That Your way is perfect.

And now I hear You say

I didn't say you would see it--

I only said--it is.

So, Lord, it's Your move.

Good-night.

By Ruth Harms Calkin

Five Things (Books this time)

Five Things (I try to post my "Five Things" on a semi-regular basis so if you see "five things" in my label list, some interesting things may turn up.)

five things (18)

The five books closest to this computer are:

EsEssentials of Strategic Management (school book for Ryan)

2. 2. Love Wins (Liberal Theology)

3. 3. His Thoughts Toward Me (uber devotional)

4. 4. B-I-B-L-E (Real Theology J

5. 5. Clep guide to Algebra (for Ryan’s school)

Weird, there were no kids' books in my five….

Okay, five books that are in the library bin.

1. Biography of Charles Lindbergh

2. The Prince and the Pooch (Wishbone’s take on the classic Prince and the Pauper)

3. Crab Cab (Can you say learning to read?)

4. The Periodic Table of Elements (Yep, that’s science)

5. Mercy Watson Thinks Like a Pig (By the way, Mercy really is a pig)

Homeschooling Without a Dedicated Classroom

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/7833136/homeschooling_without_a_dedicated_classroom.html?cat=7

Homeschooling without a dedicated classroom. Click the link for tips.

The Continuing Adventures of Crazy Mom-- Episode 3, the Field Trip

Today Crazy Mom was feeling especially adventurous. She even let those kids destroy an old dolly bed with a hammer. Can you say demolition? Can you say repurpose? Can you say tiny bits of wood all over the place that had to all be picked up and swept up by the four happy hoodlums. In an especially generous moment, she also let them get out the legos. Yup, the tiny ones that usually hide in the back of the closet (Crazy Mom’s own closet). Yes, Crazy Mom was feeling especially jazzy.

Spontaneously, she declared it a field trip day. She stalwartly refused to leave the house until all those itty-bitty-teeny-tiny-owie-to-step-on-little legos had been picked up. She also used her drill sergeant voice to encourage shoe putting-on and coat zipping-up. The six year old twins grinned, the daughter placated, and the nine year old boy actually rolled his eyes. Hup, 2, 3, 4, Hup…

Crazy Mom was in a mood. She was rejoicing in the day that the Lord had made. The sun was shining. She had been up early. She had her coffee and her BBB (Bible Before Breakfast). She was ready! And, now, let the field trip begin.

They arrived at the Frederick Meijer Gardens to view the butterflies in the tropical conservatory. But first, they had to park in East Kabudaville (That’s Crazy Mom talk for “wow, we had to park far away” and “whoa, what a hike to that, what do you call it? Oh yeah, the entrance.”)

So it was a little busy. There were masses of children here to see the butterflies. Unfortunately, most of the visitors were of smallish size similar to that of the four happy hoodlums. Crazy Mom instructed the troops to stay close but Lucas’s eyes were already sparkling. He had spotted his first “new family” of the day. He was already making friends with the four year old blonde while mom hung up all five coats. The nine year old looked impatient…think..think…aha! Crazy mom handed him the camera. Sure enough, his eyes lit up as he wandered away. Crazy Mom silently praised that God of hers for such a great idea.

She made her way out of the coat room back into the large entrance hall. The daughter stuck like glue, but not those boys..Was that Marc? “Marc,” hollered Crazy Mom, “get back here and get your coat off.” No, wait, it was just a boy weating a coat just like Marc’s. That’s not fair, she thought, Marc already has a twin. Aha! There was Marc. She marched over to take his hand and turned to see a boy who was far too old to be lying on the floor actually lying on the floor. He was looking at the sculpture suspended from the ceiling. His camera looked very familiar. Oh dear, Crazy Mom prayed for patience as she snapped her fingers. “Just a minute, Mom…there! Now that’s a picture, look!” Poor boy, he got the “Yes, dear, that’s very nice…please don’t lie on the floor…now where are your brothers?” speech.

Crazy Mom deep sighed, “Alright, Lord,” she prayed silently, “I’m responsible for Your kids on this field trip. Thank-you for allowing me to be the one they call Mom.” Crazy Mom felt the peace that passes understanding wrap itself a little tighter around her heart and she actually smiled and truly admired the boy’s photo—it was a unique shot. Her aspiring photographer beamed at the genuine praise and surprisingly, even offered to let his sister take a picture.

While this moment of sharing happened, Crazy Mom realized Marc was still nowhere to be seen and Lucas was….she scanned the area… Of course, he was chatting up the blonde and her family. But they were ready to move on. The mom pointed out Crazy Mom to Lucas but he pretended not to see. Crazy Mom had to actually walk over to collect him.

Then she heard a small slam. The sound was familiar..she tried to connect it to something…anything….piano? aha! A piano. A piano lid over keys, that’s it..that’s MARC! Plink plink. “Honey, don’t touch this piano, it’s not yours.” “But mom, we don’t have a piano.”

Okay, collect Marc. Return to see three children lying on the floor under the suspended sculpture taking more pictures.

As Crazy Mom reminds herself to lean not on her own understanding but to trust in the Lord with all her heart, she realizes she can still see the coat room, and they have not seen a single butterfly. As she lies on the floor and studies the sculpture, yes, it is a unique perspective, she realizes it may be awhile before another spontaneous field trip.

Join us next time when Crazy Mom discovers teaching the art of sharing is far more difficult than she realized.

A Wink from Heaven

Don’t you love accidental Bible look ups? I think they may be God’s way of making us smile, kind of a wink from heaven.

My first remembrance of an accidental look up was when I was a teenager and that awful boy, Ryan, broke my heart and broke up with me AGAIN! I cried and cried and my friend encouraged me by sending me little slips of paper with Bible verses like Psalm 147:3, “He heals the broken-hearted, binding up their wounds.” But that wasn’t my favorite…I’m not sure what she originally intended, but I looked up Hebrews 7:17, “You are a priest forever in the order of Melchisedec.” Given my very limited knowledge of scriptural types and shadows in eschatology, et cetera, and having no idea how to pronounce Mel-kis-a, Mel-chis-a…..it just made me laugh.

I called my friend immediately to ask her if she knew that we could be priests forever in the order of Mel-cheese-a-deek. This verse became a standard of encouragement between us for years. I think God was winking at me back then and winks at me still. (After all, He is the creator of my individual slightly warped sense of humor).

Recently, I headed to Galatians for a word of encouragement after a particularly difficult day dealing with those other human beings on the planet. (I can tell from your expression that you’ve met them too.) I was headed for Galatians 5:25, “if you live by the Spirit walk by the Spirit”. That one seemed to fit right in with how I was feeling toward those people. You know, a “just keep swimming” verse.

Instead I turned to Galations 5:15, which was actually much more convicting of my own attitude and actions. It stated, “But if you bite and devour one another, take care that you are not consumed by one another.” Ouch.

Perhaps that one was a wink AND a reprimand. So next time you have an accidental look up, take a moment and reflect. It may have, indeed, been intentional on the part of Him who created you and knows you best.