Why I got married

I've realized lately that why I originally got married is not why God wanted me to get married.  When we decided to get married, I knew the man I would marry was a Christian, loving man, desirous of sharing his faith with those around him.  We wanted companionship, to share our love for each other and to start a family.  And those are all good reasons to get married.
But, I've noticed lately, God wanted to teach me many, many lessons through my marriage.  (Amazingly enough, he had been trying to teach me these lessons for most of my life.)  Here are a few of the lessons that have bombarded me lately.
1)  God wanted to teach me how to work.  You may think that I am accusing my husband of being lazy, but the opposite is actually the truth.  My husband works hard every day, preparing lessons, correcting papers, cleaning the bathroom, doing laundry.  And so God has demonstrated through my husband a fantastic work ethic.
2) God wanted to teach me how to pray.  Having children has really given me infinite reasons to pray, but my husband once again has shown me the importance that prayer should have in my life.  Every night he finds the most uncomfortable position possible so as not to fall asleep as he prays over the day past.  And, when he shares his prayers with me, I am reminded to look beyond me, my family and our little circle to pray for the world around us.
3) God wanted to teach me to depend on Him.  As a woman and a mom, I rearrange my priorities.  I often describe myself as a mom, a wife and a Christian, in that order. I am often tempted to put my husband or my kids before God.  But God continually reminds me that I am first his child and he is first in my life.  Through the many speed bumps of life--finances, family problems, sickness--God continually reminds me that it is he, through my husband and the people around us, who provides all that I need.
There are many, many more lessons I've learned through the seven short years of our marriage, but these are the ones I've really noticed lately.  I am so thankful for the blessing of my husband and family.  But, as we prepare our hearts for Jesus' birth, I'm even more thankful for the blessing of forgiveness that Jesus came to give to each of us.

All things are possible

This morning I saw a bumper sticker that said, "God promised to make all things possible, not easy."  It really got me thinking.
I've been struggling lately, wondering what God wants me to do.  I've started a direct sales business and it hasn't been going as easily as I thought it would.  I've been wondering if this is God's hint to me that perhaps this isn't where my talents lie.
At home with my kiddos, I've been frustrated quite often, too.  Potty training is hard work and my potty trainee doesn't really appreciate all the laundry I've been doing to keep him in clean, dry pants (now that winter is setting in).  My bigger ones are struggling to understand the difference between what they want to do and what needs to be done as part of a family, and their sense of urgency rarely matches up with mine.
Our van is in the shop again, too.  We're having a hard time deciding if we should keep pouring money into it or just give up and have two car payments for awhile.
But this morning I asked my son to recite his memory work for me.  "Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you," he spouted off.  BAM!  God whacked me in the head with his Word once again...and through one of my children, once again.  I stopped right then and asked for forgiveness.  I haven't been praying about all these things as he directs me to; I've been storing them in my heart, letting them eat away at me.  Then, they sneak out as tears or anger at my family.
And when I backed my van out of its parking spot later this morning, God was there helping me see that he is with me making all things possible.  Here on Earth there are a few things that I need to do instead of waiting for God to plop them in my lap.  But that just makes me even more excited for heaven when all things will be possible and easy.  Until then, I've got some really awesome people helping make all things possible here.  THANK YOU!

Treasures

Tonight, I was nearly knocked over by Little Miss.  She came up behind me as I was putting away dishes in a low cupboard, wrapped her arms around my back and squeezed.  I was tempted to scold her, but by the grace of God, I thanked her for the hug.
Through my mind flashed a day, not that long ago, that I walked into my parents' kitchen, walked up behind my mom as she washed the dishes, and gave her a hug--on a regular basis.  She never scolded, complaining that I was slowing her down or nearly strangling her.  She'd reach behind her and give me a pat right back.
The next image that flashed through my mind is a day, not too long from now, that Little Miss will storm out of the kitchen and slam the door at me.  I will definitely miss these hugs at that time.
I stopped right then and asked God's forgiveness.  And I asked for his help.  Help to remember all these little day brighteners in the years ahead.  As I prayed, I thought of a motherly example from the Bible.  As Mary experienced parenthood, she took time to treasure the things that happened and ponder them.
Now, my children are not remotely like Mary's child.  But they are gifts from God that need to be treasured every day.  From little hugs to "I love you"s, these are the treasures I'm storing in my heart.

Memories

Tonight's blog is being typed with one finger, so please excuse the brevity. Today we suffered a most likely fatal blow to our computer. And, I regret to admit, I haven't backed up my computer in too long to make a difference. More than the annoyance of typing with one finger is the knowledge that Baby J's pictures may never be retrieved.
Matt has pointed out that we have yet to exhaust all our options. But, I wanted to share a lesson learned. BACK UP YOUR FILES!
We said a prayer for our computer tonight. I don't usually pray for inanimate objects, but I do know God hears and answers all our prayers. I pray none of you suffer a similar blow.

Unexpected Milestones

With four kids, I’ve gotten used to reaching milestones—rolling over for the first time, learning to ride a bike, cutting teeth.  But this week, I’ve gotten to experience two very different and quite unexpected milestones.  And they both happened yesterday.

We have Bible camp this week, and a good friend of ours is visiting with her daughter.  So, we invited them over for dinner.  As we were cleaning the house, I called out, “Nater, come help me.”  And, sadly enough, my oldest decided to exert his independence.  “Mamma, don’t call me Nater anymore.”  What he was really saying was, “Mamma, I’m a big boy now and I don’t need your baby nickname for me.”  Ouch.  But, I obliged his almost-six-year-old wishes and called him by his full given name for the rest of the evening.

And so, a few hours later, I went to pick up our friends to bring them to our house for dinner.  I came home to Mr. M crying his heart out.  All he wanted was to snuggle Mamma.  Which was difficult, since it was time for Baby J to eat.  After a solid 15 minutes of snuggling, I had him calmed down enough to play baby swap; he sat on Daddy’s lap while I fed Baby J.  And 15 minutes later, he quite willingly went to bed—only to wake up 2 hours later, and then another 2 hours later. 

Talking with my husband, I learned Mr. M had fallen, hard, on his shoulder while goofing his siblings that evening.  And since he was still favoring that arm this morning, we took him to the pediatrician, who (after ruling out Nurse-Maid’s Elbow) sent us to get x-rays.  And, by this afternoon, we learned what I had already suspected—Mr. M has a broken collar bone.

Tomorrow brings yet another trip (although this isn’t a milestone)—we’ve got an appointment with a pediatric orthopedist.  We’ll find out then what his treatment will be.

Through this all, I’ve seen God’s hand.  My husband and I have been saying many, many prayers; we got to spend the day with Mr. M and Baby J (a treat for the little two, and the big two who got to be with their favorite babysitter); and we got to indulge Mr. M in snuggle time (which hasn’t happened as much since Baby J came).  I am so thankful for all the well-qualified and caring health professionals we’ve dealt with today.  I pray God continues to bless them and us through them.  But, I'm also praying for a speedy return to the normal milestones...

True Confessions of a Wife-Beautician

I grew up watching my mom cut my dad’s hair.  About every six weeks, she’d get out her scissors (until we could afford an electric clipper when I was about 10), and my dad and brothers would get their hair cut.  She told me she started in college.  “I met a lot of guys that way,” she said.

So, when I went to college, I thought I’d try my hand at what I thought would be part of my wifely duty.  I had a good friend who was patient enough (or maybe just that broke) to sit through an hour plus torture session—my first haircut—our freshmen year.  He must have really liked me, because I cut his hair several more times through our college career.  My brothers would also occasionally let me practice on them.  Slowly, my time improved, although I can’t say the same as to my skill level.

When Matt and I got married, he decided I should give him haircuts to save the ridiculously $16.00 cost.   

And so, I practiced.

And practiced.

And practiced some more.

Seven years later, I would much rather he shell out the now $21.00 cost (even more ridiculous!) and let a professional work her magic.  I put off cutting his hair as long as I possibly can in the hopes that he might give up on me and go to the Beauty School for a $5.00 haircut (and a lesson in patience as he tries to communicate with someone who barely speaks English).

Tonight, I finally gave into his requests.  As I worked, I was thinking, “Wow.  I think I’m actually getting better at this.”  I hesitantly declared the haircut over after 25 minutes of snipping and buzzing away.  He helped me clean the clippers as I swept up the floor.  As I put the broom away, he came back down from the bathroom and, dashing all my delusions of progress, said, “This isn’t even.”

Sure enough, I had done a FANTASTIC job of blending and trimming, leaving his hair long on top…but just on one side of his head.  The other, much to my dismay, was not anywhere near the same level (I mean that literally…his hair line was much higher on that side).  The only fix I could apply was to give him a sort-of-faux-hawk haircut.

“I really wish we could just send you to a professional,” I declared after the “fix.”

“But, you really are improving,” Matt tried to encourage me.

And, just now, he came down showing me yet another mistake and giving me pointers for “next time.”

What a supportive husband.  Perhaps it would be better for his image, though, if he lived in reality and took himself to a Hair Cuttery.  $21.00 once every six weeks is a small price to pay to look good, right?

I guess I’m really blessed to have someone who trust his hair to me and keeps on coming back, knowing that something will not be right.

Sleepover

Big Boy is at his first official sleep over tonight.  I can’t believe we’ve made it this far in childhood.  It seems like just yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital, clueless as to what parenthood really was.  Now, he’s big enough to look forward to a Friday night sleepover with his best bud.

As we were eating dinner tonight, I whispered last-minute manner reminders to him.  “Remember to say ‘Please’ and ‘Thank you.’”  “If you wake up first, just lie in bed—don’t wake up your buddy.”  “Don’t beg for food.”  He looked over at me with his eyes big and said, “I know, Mom!  I can be a big boy.”

He’s right.  I don’t usually get to see it (although I’d really like to), but his friends’ moms have told me how polite he can be and his teacher has told us that he’s been good at helping out in the classroom.  He really does know all the right things to do to be a big boy.

But the best part is this.  Last night I pulled him aside to help him settle down before dinner and to ask him to be in control of himself (and all the fantastic noises he’s discovered he can make).  As I asked him how he knew what the right thing to do was (“Because you told me, Mom” is what I expected), he answered, “Because I have Jesus in my heart.  I love him a lot.”  I couldn’t help it.  I cried a little bit right there.   What a wonderful thing to say, and such a better answer than what I was hoping for.

So, as I watched him happily load himself into his friends’ car (“They have a Honda, Mom!”), I knew he would be just fine.  He knew what I would say, even before I said it.  “Keep Jesus with you!”

Happy Birthday, Baby!

It’s hard to believe it’s already been two months since we first met our newest addition.  Baby J has quickly gained quite the fan club.  His brothers and sister are enamored with him, as are Mamma and Dad.  Most days it’s a race to see who can give him his elephant pacifier first (even if he doesn’t need it).  He’s almost constantly smothered with snuggles and “moochies” (as Mr. M likes to say).  And now that he’s smiling, Big Boy N and Little Miss R run to tell me every time he opens his mouth in a grin or coos at them.

Selfie with the birthday boy

What a blessing to be a mamma of four.  Dear Lord, please remind me of this as I know I will often struggle in the days and years ahead.  Amen.

Sharing the Walk

And…I’m back.  It’s been almost 8 weeks since number four was born.  What a beautiful blessing he is to our family!  He’s starting to smile and be awake more.  And today he rolled over for the first time.  We can’t wait for many, many more milestones to come.

For me, personally, I am so thankful that God has spared me from another round of post-partum depression.  It’s nice to truly be able to enjoy my baby.

And since it’s summer, I will have even more time to do that.  It’s wonderful to have all my kiddos home with me, and even though we’re still busy (I’m teaching Science Camp for three weeks), we’ve had so much more family time.  I LOVE IT!

My two oldest both came home with lists of activities to keep them on track this summer.  As a good teacher/mom, I’ve set some goals for our summer, too.  We’re looking forward to a family camping trip in the mountains; I want to read a “long story” to my kids, a chapter each night (I’m thinking “Because of Winn-Dixie”); the oldest two are going to take swimming lessons; I’m going to keep up with piano lessons for them, too.

I’ve decided that I should set some personal goals as well.  And since I need to be held accountable, I’m going to share my goals with you.

                1)  Exercise 6 days a week.

                2)  Blog 2 days a week.

                3)  Lose 21 pounds by the time school starts again.  (This may sound like a lot, but

                it’s 10% of my body weight.)

I hope you all have a meaningful, busy and fun summer.  God bless!