In Which She Confesses a Shortcoming...

I have a confession.  
It's not a deep dark secret, or maybe it is.
As a homemaker, I am sorely lacking.  I love a clean, uncluttered and tidy home.  I just....I'm waiting for the cleaning fairy to arrive and apparently she is running way behind schedule.


Now, part of it is that I have offspring who are sorely lacking in the "pick up after yourself" department and part of it is that I just don't feel like it, whatever the "it" is.  I do the laundry, the dishes are done.  I even sweep up after the food thrower  Miss M does her customary baptizing of the floor with whatever she deems inedible on a given day.  


But if you were to come to my home today you would find a living room floor littered with Duplos, train tracks, little people and whatever books the lovely Miss M has pulled from the shelves.  The counter is piled with school papers, mail, a skein of yarn, books and various writing utensils. (Instead of a junk drawer I have a junk counter.  My mother is rolling in her grave...you have no idea.  Just one more way I would have disappointed her.)


Here's the thing.  Clutter bothers me A LOT.  However, I get a little tired of repeating the same tasks over and over and over and over again; tasks that no one appreciates.  I clear the counter and a new slew of papers replaces the old.  The toys will not be going anywhere for many years.  


And then...and then, one of the same little darlings who seems to think every flat surface in the living room is meant as a storage space for his stuff will say, "the house is messy." Sometimes I breathe deeply and respond calmly, mostly I'm pretty sure steam comes out of my ears and my voice can be heard on the other side of the state.  (I live in a big state.)


I have made cleaning schedules, I have scrubbed and scoured and organized and felt a huge sense of accomplishment...that fades with the new dumping and tossing and crumbing of the floors.  


Part of me thinks Phyllis Diller had it right when she said, "Cleaning your house while your kids are still growing is like shoveling the walk before it stops snowing."   


At any rate, I really want to get a handle on things...if only because the lady two doors down only comes and knocks when it looks like Fisher Price had a meltdown in here...and she came knocking yesterday....


-Peace

Happy #7!

Today we wish boy #4 a Happy 7th Birthday!  he is being very persnickety about it.  He keeps arguing with the 4 yo brother that he isn't 7 until the time of his birth this afternoon which was causing the 4 yo to repeat that *E* is 7 in louder and progressively more whiny tones as we drove to school with 2 dozen cupcakes lovingly made by the Husband last night...after being out of the house for almost 12 hours between work and commute. 

(Why, yes, I did marry a saint. ;)  he also made *E*'s cake for today.  He's just that kind of guy.)

7 years ago we welcomed our fourth son.  There was much rejoicing...and much joking about the fact that this was the third son to be born in September.  *E* loves a good joke but he is also a tender-hearted soul who worries quite a bit.  (Actually, all of my kids have a propensity to worry. I think it's genetic...from me.) 

When I reflect on the day of *E*'s birth, I remember how many people came together to help us out, neighbors who babysat and did school drop-off and pick-up and tag teamed childcare for us.  *E* was our first seminary baby and in our little "compound" there was a sense of community.  It wasn't because we all looked the same, listened to the same music or even espoused the same values about everything.

I think it came from the fact that we all espoused the Greatest Commandment...I think it's because we loved God (why we were all there) and we shared that love in word and deed in love of our neighbors, in grace and compassion; lending a hand, sharing a meal, giving a hug or leaving a joke on your door.  We were not all perfect, nor did we all embody this love and grace all day every day, but there were enough glimpses of grace in those many hands and hearts that it made most things that seemed or felt impossible quite doable. 

I learned a great deal in seminary, but I think the most valuable lessons were learned outside the classroom among the peers who loved and shared and cared and blessed and allowed us to do the same for them. 

*E* (And *I*) were born in that environment.  Now we have a church home that provides that love too.  As we wish *E* a happy 7th Birthday, I remember the feeling of love that surrounded us then and reflect on the love I am surrounded by now. 

I pray that my sweet and silly boy feels that love as he grows and that you can feel it too.

-Peace

"Happy Fastest Service Ever Day!"

In the wee small hours of this morning, as a 4 year-old slumbered between us, the Husband said, "Happy Fastest Service Ever at Applebees Day Also Known As No Room at the Inn Day."

17 years ago this morning we drove to the hospital for a scheduled induction of our first son, *J*. 
I remember listening to "The Things We Handed Down" by Marc Cohn as we exited the highway. 

Don't know much about you. Don't know who you are.  We've been doing fine without you. We could only go so far. Don't know why you chose us.  Were you watching from above.  Is there someone there that knows us, said we'd give you all our love. 

This was a long-awaited day.  Not just because he was our first child but because I had been pregnant for 18 months (Why yes, I felt and looked like an elephant, so yes, I was pregnant for 18 months...no but he was due on August 30th.)

While sitting at the admission desk, filled with excitement, a perfectly coiffed and made-up woman came in, already in labor.  I was in awe that it was 7 am, she was in labor and she looked fashion-runway-ready.  I was decidely not runway-ready...unless it was the elephants on parade.

The intake woman put her phone down, smiled at me and said, "I'm sorry, but there is no bed for you."  Can you believe a bunch of people had the audacity to go in to labor all on their own and stole my reservation?!  She told us to head home and they would call when a bed opened up.  I put on my brave face, thanked her and we left.  Not until I got in the car did I burst into tears. 

Will you laugh just like your mother? Will you sigh like your old man?  Will some things skip a generation like I've heard they often can?  Are you a poet or a dancer?  A devil or a clown? Or a strange new combination of the things we've handed down.

We went home and called our family to let them know.   I also asked my mother to please tell my sister who had been calling every day since mid-August not to call me.  (I didn't have caller ID, did anyone? And there's nothing like having someone call you every day to ask, "Anything yet?" to get on a pregnant woman's nerves!)

I wonder who you'll look like.  Will your hair fall down in curls?  Will you be a mam's boy, or daddy's little girl?

A couple of hours later, my doctor's nurse called.  "Dr. C asked me to call and tell you there's no room at the inn."  Seriously, those were the exact words.  I was instructed to come in the following morning and there would be a room for me. 

What do elephants  immensely pregnant women do when their plans for induction are thwarted?  Well, they go out to lunch of course!

When we walked in to Applebees, the hostess asked me when I was due.  "Two weeks ago."  Never, ever in my life have we gotten food that fast.  McDs is slower! ;)  I think they were afraid I'd deliver in the booth. Bwahahaha.

You may not always be so grateful for the way that you were made.  Maybe some feature of your father's that you'd gladly sell or trade.  And one day you may look at us and say that you were cursed but over time that line has been extremely well rehearsed by our our fathers and their fathers in some old and distant town from places no one here remembers called the things we've handed down.

I don't remember much else about that day.  I'm sure the Husband and I played cards.  I'm sure I went and sat in the rocking chair in the nursery looking at his crib all ready for him.  I'm sure I reluctantly answered the phone whenever it rang.  I know without a doubt that I had no idea on this day seventeen years ago what being a mom would really be like. 

You can thank us later for the things we've handed down.

Happy Fastest Service Ever Day AKA No Room at the Inn Day!

-Peace

It's That Day (repost from last year)

Today is a day that will live on in our memories as one of tragedy and pain, fear and loss.


I was pregnant (what else is new) and the Husband had the day off. We were watching the Today Show with our not yet 2 yo and preparing to go shopping for last minute baby things when we watched TV in horror.

I started to cry as I watched that plane fly into the tower on TV and *C*, seeing his mommy cry, buried his face in the couch sobbing. The whole day (and those following) felt surreal and we were wondering what our second grader would hear at school and would he be worried about his Grandpa living in NYC. *J* heard nothing at school and FIL was safe and fine. (He came to visit the 15th and I was never so happy to see him pull up to our house as that day...I ran out to hug him.)

The evening of the 11th we attended a special worship service out our church. I remember singing "A Mighty Fortress is Our God". I never sang that hymn with as much emotion as that day. It never meant so much to me. Still today, when I sing that hymn, I am transported back to that day.

My heart still aches for all those who suffered and for all those who experienced loss.

I remember people asking me how it felt to be bringing a baby into such a world. I told them that a few evil and misguided people may have brought horrible pain and destruction on thousands BUT millions of good, kind and loving people were out there too. We saw them reaching out to help in any way they could.

We live in a broken world, but God is always walking with us, alongside us. We can choose how to respond, with love and forgiveness or with vengeance and bitterness.

I am pretty certain Jesus would encourage us to love one another to work through the pain.

-Peace

The Wall

Have you ever hit a wall?

Last week I talked  to a friend about the feeling that perhaps I was having a midlife crisis.  Things that I was absolutely certain of, things I hadn't thought about in years, things that were absolutes in my mind suddenly became shades of gray.  My very wise friend suggested that maybe instead of a midlife crisis, I had hit a wall.  Perhaps, she suggested, instead of having a midlife crisis, I was feeling the strain of my lifestyle.

I said, "Perhaps." But I was really feeling so distressed about turning 41 that I really thought I was missing my carefree youth more than anything else. 

Until today.

Today I realized that perhaps my friend had a point and what I was truly feeling was that I have "hit a wall." 

Grad school, volunteer responsibilities, being a mom to 6 kids, and now a husband with a less flexible schedule (which I am thankful for, don't misunderstand) added to some sleep deprivation have turned me into an anxiety-ridden, verge-of-tears woman who has hit the wall big time. 

This is not, however, the Great Wall of China.  I envision it like a wall on an obstacle course that I will either need to use my muscles to climb over or my brain to find a way around. It might not be tidy and it might not be pretty...at first...but part of how I have accomplished anything I am proud of is by actually having to work at it. 

It will be one step at a time, one hand over the other, one foot in front of the other and I may even need to lean on some others for at least moral support, but I. Can. Do. This.  (Yes, I am trying to convince myself.  Like any mantra, it works best when I repeat it over an over.)

And...I am so thankful that I have these opportunities to use these gifts with which I have been blesses.  I will become more efficient, I will become more focused and if need be, I will ask for a "little help".

I pray that we each can feel free to ask for help when we need it and to be thankful in all things. 

Have a wonderful weekend.

-Peace

My Buddy

Today was the first day of school for the school aged darlings.  They all got out the door in decent spirits and on time.  Smooooooth.  I hope this is a sign of times to come.  I hope but I also knock wood and cross my fingers and if I had a lucky rabbit's foot...

After the children got off to school I went to get a fasting cholesterol blood draw.  On the way home I thought about hitting the McD drive through.  Not really, but Starbucks was sweetly calling my name.  I said, "Get behind me!"  and drank my water and ate my apple. 

Why am I gifting you with the rundown of my exciting morning schedule?  Because I did not get my morning walk in the park in until 4:30 this afternoon.  This walk has become my exercise and my respite.  I love the time to walk and think and listen to my ipod and just be.  *N* has asked to join me several times but I always say a resounding, "No!"

Until today.  After he was at school all day, I felt kind of guilty saying, "No." when he wanted to spend some time with his dear old mom.  I said whined about how I like to listen to my ipod but he has a very endearing smile and I just couldn't turn him down. 

He brought his ipod and his dad admonished him to zip the lips and just walk with mom.  He chattered happily on the way to the park and then as we got out of the car.  I was adjusting my ipod and he realized his had no juice.  Uh oh.  He said, "That's okay mom. You can still listen to yours."  And then he proceeded to point out a turtle. (We took a picture with my phone.) and a dead frog (I did not document it.) and he chattered happily the whole time we walked.  I kept the ipod down low because it helps me set my pace, but it wasn't the rock out walking I normally do.

That's okay though.  He was happy and he kept up with me.  It wasn't the way I usually exercise.  I treasure the time alone with my music, but I treasure my jubilant son more.  He might not always be so enamored of the walks with mom but it was a great opportunity to hear about his day and see the world through his not-yet-jaded eyes. 

I may not always say, "Yes!" when he asks to join me, but I think I will every now and then.  After all, he's 9 and can run an 8 minute mile so maybe I need to work out with him more often.

Praying that we each can take the time to see the turtles and listen to the voices whether they be God's still, small voice or the voice of an enthusiastic child.  Today I am so thankful for taking the time to listen to both.

-Peace

Sufficient...

Yesterday I was talking on the phone with a friend, one of the nicest guys you'd ever want to meet.  He is going through some stuff and he said to me, "I just keep going back to Paul asking God three times to take the thorn from his flesh and the Lord responds, My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. "

I needed to hear that.  I believe it is true.  That does not mean I have to like it. 

Call me stubborn.  Call me sinful.  Call me human. It's true in the same way that 2 Corinthians 12:8-9 is true.

Stubborn as I am, I argue with the verse, "I won't boast, or become conceited or take any blessings for granted, honest!  But a little relief would be very nice right about now, God!"  My grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness.

But, why does it feel like things fall apart or fail to come together?  What am I doing wrong? My grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness.

I can't do this anymore, it's too hard.  My grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness.

His power is made perfect in my weakness.  When I am able to put myself aside, let go of it and admit my weakness, God's power can and does shine through. I see it time and time again, in all sorts of ways, but sometimes  grit my teeth and bear the deviations with my plans with resignation, looking for ways to save face.

And I am reminded that resignation is a poor response to grace.  Grace that saves and heals and comforts and gives life should not be greeted with resignation.  Paul, in 2 Corinthians 12:10 says, "That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.  For when I am weak, then I am strong." 

Perhaps saving face is boastful?  Perhaps when I try to maintain my own pride, I am not owning my weakness?  Perhaps, in order to for my weakness to bear out His strength, I need to lose the brave face and the protective covering and just let go.  Let go and let God.

My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.

-Peace