Tomorrow, in the morning, I will begin a task which I absolutely despise. I will be getting out the summer clothes and putting away all the winter clothes for my five darling princesses. I despise this job for a couple of reasons. First of all, before it can all be put away, it must be gotten out. The getting out involves carrying down many boxes and plastic bins full of clothes from the attic. The getting out creates major clutter and chaos. I can't think when there's clutter and chaos. It discourages me and I don't feel like doing anything to make it go away (until I just can't stand it anymore and then go on a rampage to clean it up). Secondly, I usually have to do this job by myself, along with everything else I normally have to do. It takes such a long time (more than a week sometimes) to have the princesses try things on, decide if it fits or not, decide if it needs to be gotten rid of, and sort all the winter clothes into sizes and put them in the appropriately marked bin or box. Thirdly, even though my house looks large (and it is), the bedroom where this event will take place is small. I tend to be a little claustrophobic, so small bedroom + piles of clothes everywhere = me feeling a little frenetic.
I have been feeling a little convicted about this "bad attitude" of mine concerning this job. Two things should help to change that attitude. One, my dear mother-in-love is coming to help me. She did this once before and it went so quickly. The major part of the task was finished in a day. The second is this: I didn't buy any of these clothes. I have dear friends in the neighborhood, friends at church, and family members who give me bags of clothes for my children. Most of these clothes have been worn by one, maybe two, kids so they're in great shape. I could not afford to buy clothes like these for my girls. I'm talking everything from winter boots, coats, dress shoes, sneakers, sandals, bathing suits, socks, shirts, pants, sweaters, shorts, dresses . . . the list could go on.
God has so abundantly blessed our family in this way that I sometimes wonder how I would dare to complain that I have to do this job. Seems like I need a major attitude adjustment, especially when there are so many others around the world who only have one set of clothing. So, this spring, as I pull out the summer clothes and fold and put winter ones away, I'm going to work on my attitude. I'm going to look at this task as an opportunity for worship. I'm going to thank God for His faithfulness in providing for all of our needs. I'm going to thank Him for the dear friends and family who bless me in this way. I'm going to ask Him to pour out blessings a hundred fold on those dear people for their generosity to me. I'm going to thank Him that my dear mother-in-love was willing to come help me. I'm going to thank Him for the five beautiful, healthy girls that wear these clothes. I'm going to have a great time visiting with my mother-in-love.
Could it be that tomorrow's dreaded task will turn into a joyful one? Probably will, but only if I choose to let it. I think tomorrow might just be a great day.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
An Ordinary Day
May 12, 2010
Woke up at 6:30 a.m. because that's when Caroline woke up. Discovered there was no hot cereal for breakfast, so on to plan B. Had two eggs, enough to make pancakes. Cleaned up the kitchen and started the kitchen rugs in the washer. Taught Laura the three ways to make the "e" sound and why it's not a good idea to use people's feet to measure things. Did reading with Emma and taught her that odd+odd=even, even+even=odd, and odd+even=odd. Taught Katharine and Rebecca more about the Pythagorean formula. Made sure everyone had showers before lunchtime. Made turkey and cheese sandwiches for lunch. Laid down with Caroline for a nap at 12:10 p.m. Fell asleep and napped until about 3:00 p.m. Got up and checked e-mail and other things on the computer. Did language arts lessons with Katharine and Rebecca. Ate spaghetti and green beans at 5:30 p.m. for dinner. Laura cleared the table, Emma and Rebecca washed dishes, Katharine put them away. Dumped a bunch of pennies in the dish pan as an unexpected reward for helping. Worked upstairs in the empty bedroom, sorting through clothes until 9:00 p.m. Nursed Caroline to sleep and then went to bed myself.
On a day like this, I tend to think that I didn't get anything done. After all, no big project was begun or finished. It's just an ordinary day, like so many of the days of my life. Dishes, lessons, meals, etc., etc., etc. What is so amazing and life-changing and special about what I do? This "being a Mom."
Last Friday evening I heard a woman sing a song called "Sacred" by the group Caedmon's Call. It puts all of my "ordinary days" into perspective.
This house is a good mess it's the proof of life
No way would I trade jobs but I don't pay overtime
I'll get to the laundry I don't know when
I'm saying a prayer tonight cause tomorrow it starts again
Could it be that everything is sacred
And all this time
Everything I've dreamed of has been right before my eyes
The children are sleeping but they're running through my mind
The sun makes them happy and the music makes them unwind
My cup runneth over, I worry about the stain
Teach me to run to you like they run to me for everything
Cause everything is sacred
And all this time
Everything I've dreamed of has been right before my eyes
When I forget to drink from you I can feel the banks harden
Lord make me like a stream to feed the garden
Wake up little sleeper
The Lord God Almighty
Made your mama keeper
So rise and shine, rise and shine, rise and shine
Cause everything is sacred
And all this time
Everything I've dreamed of has been right before my eyes.
It is in the little, mundane, everyday, ordinary things that I worship God. This taking care of my children, husband and house are my "spiritual act of worship." To God, my ordinary days are sacred.
Woke up at 6:30 a.m. because that's when Caroline woke up. Discovered there was no hot cereal for breakfast, so on to plan B. Had two eggs, enough to make pancakes. Cleaned up the kitchen and started the kitchen rugs in the washer. Taught Laura the three ways to make the "e" sound and why it's not a good idea to use people's feet to measure things. Did reading with Emma and taught her that odd+odd=even, even+even=odd, and odd+even=odd. Taught Katharine and Rebecca more about the Pythagorean formula. Made sure everyone had showers before lunchtime. Made turkey and cheese sandwiches for lunch. Laid down with Caroline for a nap at 12:10 p.m. Fell asleep and napped until about 3:00 p.m. Got up and checked e-mail and other things on the computer. Did language arts lessons with Katharine and Rebecca. Ate spaghetti and green beans at 5:30 p.m. for dinner. Laura cleared the table, Emma and Rebecca washed dishes, Katharine put them away. Dumped a bunch of pennies in the dish pan as an unexpected reward for helping. Worked upstairs in the empty bedroom, sorting through clothes until 9:00 p.m. Nursed Caroline to sleep and then went to bed myself.
On a day like this, I tend to think that I didn't get anything done. After all, no big project was begun or finished. It's just an ordinary day, like so many of the days of my life. Dishes, lessons, meals, etc., etc., etc. What is so amazing and life-changing and special about what I do? This "being a Mom."
Last Friday evening I heard a woman sing a song called "Sacred" by the group Caedmon's Call. It puts all of my "ordinary days" into perspective.
This house is a good mess it's the proof of life
No way would I trade jobs but I don't pay overtime
I'll get to the laundry I don't know when
I'm saying a prayer tonight cause tomorrow it starts again
Could it be that everything is sacred
And all this time
Everything I've dreamed of has been right before my eyes
The children are sleeping but they're running through my mind
The sun makes them happy and the music makes them unwind
My cup runneth over, I worry about the stain
Teach me to run to you like they run to me for everything
Cause everything is sacred
And all this time
Everything I've dreamed of has been right before my eyes
When I forget to drink from you I can feel the banks harden
Lord make me like a stream to feed the garden
Wake up little sleeper
The Lord God Almighty
Made your mama keeper
So rise and shine, rise and shine, rise and shine
Cause everything is sacred
And all this time
Everything I've dreamed of has been right before my eyes.
It is in the little, mundane, everyday, ordinary things that I worship God. This taking care of my children, husband and house are my "spiritual act of worship." To God, my ordinary days are sacred.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Mother's Day 2010
I went to a women's event with a friend on Friday night and, as I headed out the door, I told dear hubby (who from now on shall be referred to as The Man of the Place) that he had about 6 hours to sit down with our 5 princesses and figure out the menu for Mother's Day because I was NOT going to be cooking.
I got my breakfast in bed on Saturday morning because it's just too chaotic to do it on Sunday morning. What a breakfast it was! One fried egg, two slices of bacon, a piece of toast, a pumpkin chip muffin, a banana, a bowl of strawberries, a large glass of orange juice and a cup of tea. I was RAWTHER full. In fact, I couldn't eat all of it. But, it was delicious.
Sunday lunch was French bread (made in the bread machine while we were at church) and chicken noodle soup (which had been made on Saturday and was warmed in the crockpot while at church). After lunch, I laid on the couch and dozed on and off for about three hours. I had mentioned that I wanted to garden (i.e. weed), but didn't have the energy to pull it off. Dinner consisted of egg salad sandwiches, chocolate chip scones, cantaloupe, strawberries, tea and, the best part of all, homemade strawberry ice cream.
The princesses made homemade cards for me. Aurora's was so cute. "You're the best Mom I've had in a long time." Like she's had another and/or different one?
But Cinderella wrote a poem. As you'll see in a moment, it's wonderful, but the best part is that she has inherited my ability for writing poetry. And she's only 10!
MOTHERS
Mothers are special, they're caring and giving
They work extremely hard, but don't earn a living.
A living or not, they work every day.
They guide you and show you to walk in God's ways.
If you have a bad dream, she'll welcome you to bed,
But what she'd rather do is sleep instead.
Whenever she gets sick, she does what she always does.
She takes care of her house and her family like she never was.
So to make this Mother's Day special
A homemade card will do fine.
But the real reward is to look at you,
A Mother who's caring and kind.
Sniff. Sniff. Someone pass the Kleenex.
I went to a women's event with a friend on Friday night and, as I headed out the door, I told dear hubby (who from now on shall be referred to as The Man of the Place) that he had about 6 hours to sit down with our 5 princesses and figure out the menu for Mother's Day because I was NOT going to be cooking.
I got my breakfast in bed on Saturday morning because it's just too chaotic to do it on Sunday morning. What a breakfast it was! One fried egg, two slices of bacon, a piece of toast, a pumpkin chip muffin, a banana, a bowl of strawberries, a large glass of orange juice and a cup of tea. I was RAWTHER full. In fact, I couldn't eat all of it. But, it was delicious.
Sunday lunch was French bread (made in the bread machine while we were at church) and chicken noodle soup (which had been made on Saturday and was warmed in the crockpot while at church). After lunch, I laid on the couch and dozed on and off for about three hours. I had mentioned that I wanted to garden (i.e. weed), but didn't have the energy to pull it off. Dinner consisted of egg salad sandwiches, chocolate chip scones, cantaloupe, strawberries, tea and, the best part of all, homemade strawberry ice cream.
The princesses made homemade cards for me. Aurora's was so cute. "You're the best Mom I've had in a long time." Like she's had another and/or different one?
But Cinderella wrote a poem. As you'll see in a moment, it's wonderful, but the best part is that she has inherited my ability for writing poetry. And she's only 10!
MOTHERS
Mothers are special, they're caring and giving
They work extremely hard, but don't earn a living.
A living or not, they work every day.
They guide you and show you to walk in God's ways.
If you have a bad dream, she'll welcome you to bed,
But what she'd rather do is sleep instead.
Whenever she gets sick, she does what she always does.
She takes care of her house and her family like she never was.
So to make this Mother's Day special
A homemade card will do fine.
But the real reward is to look at you,
A Mother who's caring and kind.
Sniff. Sniff. Someone pass the Kleenex.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
What Makes Dinner So Special?
I thought you might enjoy a poem I wrote yesterday about what makes dinner so special at our house. I wrote this poem to enter a Mother's Day Contest that Focus on the Family is having. Let me know what makes dinner so special at your house.
What makes dinner special
For our family of seven?
Visit me in my kitchen
And an answer I'll be givin'.
Our meals are made from scratch
Mostly from food we've grown.
They're cooked on my white gas stove
In our century-old home.
Our fare is pretty basic
To call it gourmet, I would not.
But it's made with lots of love
And served up nice and hot.
Daddy joins us for dinner
And over our meal he prays.
Then we dig in with gusto
And talk about our day.
My girls say my food's a "keeper"
They usually clean their plates
My husband loves my cooking
And rarely has any complaints.
Some meals are eaten quickly,
At others, we linger long.
In summer, we dine al fresco
Serenaded by the bird's song.
Holidays are really special.
Everything looks pretty and nice
With the linens, china and candles
And food cooked with extra spice.
When someday my table is empty
'Cause my girls have their own homes
I hope they'll remember our dinners
Where bodies and hearts were grown.
So, what is it, really
That's so special about our dinners?
Nothing too fine or fancy
It's just that we're TOGETHER.
What makes dinner special
For our family of seven?
Visit me in my kitchen
And an answer I'll be givin'.
Our meals are made from scratch
Mostly from food we've grown.
They're cooked on my white gas stove
In our century-old home.
Our fare is pretty basic
To call it gourmet, I would not.
But it's made with lots of love
And served up nice and hot.
Daddy joins us for dinner
And over our meal he prays.
Then we dig in with gusto
And talk about our day.
My girls say my food's a "keeper"
They usually clean their plates
My husband loves my cooking
And rarely has any complaints.
Some meals are eaten quickly,
At others, we linger long.
In summer, we dine al fresco
Serenaded by the bird's song.
Holidays are really special.
Everything looks pretty and nice
With the linens, china and candles
And food cooked with extra spice.
When someday my table is empty
'Cause my girls have their own homes
I hope they'll remember our dinners
Where bodies and hearts were grown.
So, what is it, really
That's so special about our dinners?
Nothing too fine or fancy
It's just that we're TOGETHER.
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