The Year Gone By

In my very first post of this year, I reflected back on 2009 and included the header pictures I used each month.  I've enjoyed looking back on that post so much that it wasn't hard to decide to do it again for 2010.  (And a big THANK YOU to my uber talented friend Lisa who originally inspired me to change my header and blog look monthly!)  :)

~ Wild and Sweet Christmas by The Cutest Blog on the Block

~ Fresh Fall by The Cutest Blog on the Block

~ Classic Candies by The Cutest Blog on the Block

~ Back to School Primitive Fall Background by Daisy Gray Design

~ from Hot Bliggity Blog: (which apparently doesn't name their designs, so I can't link to it directly, but as of this writing, the 7th background down when using the search word "paisley")

~ Red, White, and Blue (the top one) by Aqua Poppy Designs

~ Hot Bliggity Blog (again, I can't link to this background exactly; but this link brings up only a few options, and it's obvious which one I used)

~ Watermelon and Ants! by Daisy Gray Design

~ Bubbles n Daises by The Cutest Blog on the Block

~ Valentine's Gift by Blog Designs by Dani

~ Sweetheart by The Cutest Blog on the Block

~ Keeping Warm! by Simply Blog It Backgrounds

I'm trying to decide which one is my favorite, but I just can't.  ;-)

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Another way to recap the year is to scan back through the year's posts and make a list of some of my favorite posts--and maybe these are some of yours too, judging by the feedback I received!  I was originally going to make a Top Ten list, but then I got on a roll and couldn't stop and had to stretch it to 25.  *sheepish grin*

Not Your Average Midlife Crisis 
I Kinda Sorta Did a Photo Shoot 
I'm Going to Have to Fire My Sous Chef 
The Power of Prayer
I Love a Husband Who...
You Might Be a Mother of Boys If...
And Then My Bubble Went POP!
Just a Piece of Blue Cotton
This Is Crazy, Ridiculous, Horrible...
Living in the Lap of Luxury
TTT - Women, Eggs, Mammals, Oh My!
I Try Not to Let Schooling Get in the Way of Learning
13 Years Ago... 
Second Grade - Somehow
TTT - Z's, Bless-You Boxes, and Milk Supply - Oh, My!
The Kind of Mom Who...
The Gum-Chewer
You Just Never Know
The Professor
What Shav Thinks of Grass
The Nicest Compliment
TTT - Christians in the Bible?
You Wasted a Perfectly Good Cake...
Little Trying to Be Big
The Cat and His Boy(s)

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As the year ends, here is a bit of history that I've been pondering through the past month and a half...and that I hope to continue to keep in mind as 2011 begins.  To me, the over-arching lesson of this is NEVER DOUBT THAT GOD IS INVOLVED.  Even though I'm proud of my Southern heritage and have been known to occasionally joke that "the South will rise again!", I'm truly grateful, of course, that the North won the Civil War.  :)  Only God knows how the outcome might have been different, if that rifle had not been stolen.  Without a doubt, God works in matters large and small to accomplish His purposes.

From The Shenandoah Journal, November 16-22, 2010...

The Gun That Could Have Changed History
by Alan Cramer

One of the first repeating rifles ever built in the United States was created near Stokesville.  William Sheffer (or Shaffer, as it is sometimes spelled) was a German-speaking early settler of North River Gap.  he was a respected blacksmith and gunsmith.  Both he and his brother Abraham were exempted from fighting in the Civil War to build wagons and guns for the Confederacy.

Around 1860, Sheffer invented the rifle that would later become known as the "Virginia Pacificator."  One of the first of its kind, the 48-shot repeating rifle had eight magazine tubes that held six rounds each.

As the story goes, the rifle was stolen as Sheffer was on his way to the patent office in Washington, DC.  A patent was eventually secured, but curiously, the rifle was never mass-produced.

If the rifle had been used during the war, it could have changed the course of history.  The gun is now in the Virginia Historical Society Museum in Richmond.

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This morning, I read this prayer by Amy Carmichael in a devotional by Elisabeth Elliot.  Today and every day in the new year, I'll cling to the knowledge that God knows my children better than I do, is more powerful than me to guide and protect them, and loves them with a bigger, stronger love than I can even imagine.

Father, hear us, we are praying,
Hear the words our hearts are saying,
We are praying for our children.

Keep them from the powers of evil,
From the secret, hidden peril,
From the whirlpool that would suck them,
From the treacherous quicksand pluck them,
Holy Father, save our children.

From the worldling's hollow gladness,
From the sting of faithless sadness,
Through life's troubled waters steer them,
Through life's bitter battle cheer them,
Father, Father, be Thou near them.

Read the language of our longing,
Read the wordless pleadings thronging,
Holy Father, for our children.

And wherever they may bide,
Lead them Home at eventide.
~ Amy Carmichael

She, the giver of hope to India's children, had quite a way with words.  Those phrases - "the sting of faithless sadness" - "read the language of our longing" - oh, they're powerful.  I'm always grateful to discover a thinker and writer who expresses better than I can what I'm feeling in my heart.

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To end beautiful 2010, here is one of the sweetest sights and sounds on earth to my blinded-by-mother-love eyes and ears:  my two youngest sons, clad in snuggly sleepers, playing happily together this morning in a Bumper Chair game they invented.  If I can ignore the baskets of laundry to be folded that appear in the video and focus instead on their bubbly laughter and infectious smiles, I'll have grasped what's really important.  I am blessed beyond words...

Eleven Tidbits

If I could sum up today in one word, it would be LAZY.  With our guests gone and the first big part of my parents' move over, I felt all entertained-out and could hardly summon up the motivation to do anything.  So I did very little - almost nothing, really.  I didn't even cook dinner, because it was Jeff's annual end-of-the-year barbershop dinner out, at Wood Grill Buffet (at which the boys behaved beautifully and I had a lovely time chatting with Jenny).  I wouldn't want every day to be a lazy day (and no one else in my family would want me to have lazy days all the time either!); but for today, it was SO nice to relax and not worry about accomplishing much.

I did, however, start a project that I'd been wanting to do for a while but had pushed aside until a rainy day, so to speak.  (It did, as a matter of fact, rain a little bit here today, so I happened to choose an appropriate day for this rainy day project.)  :)  I have a basket-like file box, with hanging file folders in it.  Although some parts of it were in fairly good order, others were not; and it needed a good going-over to get the whole thing organized.  It was one of those things that I thought "this is going to take a LONG time" and "I'd better do this when I have some alone time so I won't be distracted by the boys."  But as it turns out, I was able to nearly finish the project today; and much of my time spent working on it was also spent in the company of one or more boys.  Even Shav cooperated wonderfully, and played peacefully by himself in the living room, occasionally scooting over to me to see what was going on.  I would hand him papers to be discarded, and sometimes he would crumple them and enjoy the noise, and other times, he would scoot over to the little trashcan and put the papers in it.  So helpful.  :)

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Speaking of Shav putting things in the trashcan...

We use that little trashcan, during cold weather, to collect paper and burnable trash for kindling for the woodstove.  Shav enjoys making random deposits in it; and when I pull out the trash to burn, I've learned to always check through it to see what he might have put in it.  These are some of the items I've found so far this fall and winter:
~ a spoon
~ Christmas ornaments
~ Scoop, the yellow tractor from Bob the Builder
~ a wooden spatula
~ bullet shells (the big boys like to play with old bullet shells, setting them up on end like toy soldiers)
~ a stencil
~ a large sieve
At least the sieve was easy to spot when I lifted the lid of the trashcan.  :)

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As I went through my file folders today, I found the folders I have for Medical Records for each of us.  One thing stood out to me about them:  our folders for the boys are so thin.  I discovered a new cause for gratitude...thank You, God, that my boys have been so healthy, and consequently, their folders are so thin!

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We received news a few days ago that dear Helen Rae, the mother of long-time family friend Mary Faith, passed away.  She was quite old and had been losing the battle with dementia for some years, so it was one of those deaths that is, in many ways, a relief.  But still, grief lingers.

It was poignant tonight to discover in my Wedding folder, a letter Helen Rae, always gracious, had sent to my parents shortly after my wedding.  It said in part:

What beautiful memories you have to treasure in your heart of your lovely Davene, from the time she was conceived until now.  And of course, it doesn't stop here!  Your joys are multiplied.  I'm praying that Jeff will be as sensitive to your needs and Davene's, as Jerry has been to ours.  That, indeed, is expecting a lot!  

I have never seen lovelier invitations.  I almost feel that I have been a part of it  all.  Mary Faith filled me in on all the details which you had planned so carefully.  How dear that your mother was able to attend.

It's apparent that her prayers for Jeff to be sensitive to my needs and my parents' have been abundantly answered!

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Once upon a time, I wrote a post of confessions.  It's time to add another one.

I know I'm supposed to brown meat before I cook it in the crockpot.  Roasts, Swiss steak, pork chops, whatever - they're all supposed to be browned on the stove first because it makes the flavor richer (or something).  But I don't do it.  Nope, I use the crockpot so I can be a lazy cook; and the thought of browning the meat first (and getting a frying pan all dirty and greasy, making an extra dish for me to wash) defeats the purpose in my opinion.  Maybe the flavor suffers a tiny bit; but really, if you did a blind taste test, do you think you'd be able to figure out which roast was browned and which wasn't?  I think making a great-tasting roast has more to do with the seasonings you put on it.  That's just my {humble, of course} opinion.  :)

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How do people find your blog?

Every once in a while, various bloggers that I keep up with will mention what searches brought people to them; and it's always interesting and frequently hilarious to read.  Now that Blogger has added a handy-dandy stats button, I occasionally look at mine and am able to see how people found me.  Most are very straightforward, but a few make me grin and/or shake my head in puzzlement.  Searches like these actual ones I've seen recently...

~ around my bubble
~ mother in law visits are too long (for the record, I don't think they are, but I can see why a search for that would lead to my blog)
~ maternity shop tel aviv
~ i'll go to bed now
~ avniel pronunciation
~ a thank you note from god to a grieving fisherman family
~ geriatric story nursing home story oh holy night
~ tomcat holy ghost (really?  what in the world?  I actually had to look this one up to discover what it led to...sure enough, it landed on this post...oh, yeah, I forgot about that)

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This is the way Jeff and I show love to each other these days:  whoever goes up to bed first turns on the other's electric blanket.  ;-)  It's so comforting to crawl into a nice warm bed, rather than the sheets which always used to feel frigid on winter nights.

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Why does it seem like I'm always the one to discover that there's not much toilet paper left on the roll?  Occasionally when I spot a roll that looks close to the end, I'll think, "Oh, I'll pull out a fresh roll later."  But I've learned that it's best to do it right then, because if not, inevitably I will be the one left in an uncomfortable predicament.  Why does that happen to me?   Maybe the system of justice in the universe demands that my procrastination will have negative consequences.  Or maybe it's just because I'm the only female in this household, so maybe I use the most toilet paper.  ;-)

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Do not depend on the hope of results... You may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless and even achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect.  As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results, but on the value, the rightness, the truth of the work itself.

~ Thomas Merton

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Tomorrow, if I happen to have more energy than today, I think we'll start taking down our Christmas decorations.  The boys want us to leave our tree up indefinitely, but that idea has been vetoed.  I love their enthusiasm though.  :)  Doesn't it seem like it was the beginning of December just the other day and we were putting our decorations up?  And now we're taking them down already!  How does that happen?!  :)

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The chain of cause and effect which makes up human life, is bisected at every point by a vertical line relating us and all we do to God.

~ Baron Von Hugel,

quoted in an Elisabeth Elliott devotional

A Gift Only God Could Give

I loved Christmas Eve.

I loved seeing the living room set up with pillows and sleeping bags and blankets for excited little boys.  I loved hearing their daddy reading from our Advent book, Bartholomew's Passage, as he laid on the couch.  I loved feeling the warmth of the fire in the woodstove.  

For a full year, I had been looking forward to my night of sleeping on the couch near my boys and the Christmas tree; and, needless to say, I loved actually doing it.  Josiah and David and I were the only ones who made it through the night there.  Tobin tried, but after one too many times of bouncing up out of his cozy nest and bugging his brothers, I took him up to his room about 10:00 p.m; and despite his protests, he quickly went to sleep there.  Jeff fell asleep on our little couch, but also departed part of the way through the night.  But I stayed there, waking occasionally to shift my position on the couch, drink in the sight of my two oldest sons in their youthful peace-drenched sleep, and breathe a prayer of thanks for such moments.

When we woke up this morning--around 7:30 a.m.--a glance out the window showed a most wonderful thing:  it was snowing.  Snow on Christmas morning?  Unbelievable!  It couldn't have been more perfect.  As I rejoiced, I thought, "Only God could have given us this gift."

Sure, a weather forecaster could tell us the scientific reason for the snow arriving this morning.  This high pressure system here...and the low pressure system pushing against it...and the moisture from this storm system...and the winds from the south...blah, blah, blah...  But can a weather forecaster make it snow?  No.  Can you?  Not a chance.  Can I?  No way.

The snow this morning was a gift only God could give.

Almost as soon as that thought entered my mind, I realized that that was exactly what Christmas is all about.  Only God could give a gift like Jesus.  Thank You, God, that You did!

I'm tempted to write more tonight, to share more pictures, to capture in words the moments that made this Christmas so special.  But I can't.  You see, one of the gifts Jeff gave me is The Boy Who Came Back from Heaven; and I started reading it while I was munching on left-overs a while ago.  I could barely pull myself away from it long enough to talk to Jeff, tuck Josiah and David into bed, or do this post.  ;-)  I think it's going to be one of those books--the kind that makes you stay up WAY later than you should, just because you can't bear to set it down for one single second.  If my bedside lamp is still on at 3:00 in the morning, you'll know why.  :)

Let Consequences Do the Talking

As part of our Sonlight curriculum that we're using in our homeschool this year, we're reading a wonderful book of Aesop's fables:  The Aesop for Children, with pictures by Milo Winter.  The boys love it; and even though Josiah has read the whole book himself (several times, I believe), he still eagerly listens each day; and when I finish the page I'm reading, he begs me to read another one.  "But I like this one," he says as he glances at the following page.  "That's what you say every day," I tell him.  "Well, I like them all!" is his response.  True, that.

The only thing that I don't like is that the book uses an old-fashioned word for donkey, a word that has three letters and starts with "a," a word which I won't type here because I don't want this post to attract strange Internet searches.  I don't mind the boys hearing that word in the proper context so I read the fables as written when we're reading them together, but I'd be glad for my sons to remain ignorant of the slang meaning for quite some time.  How long can we preserve their innocence?

One of the fables that we read some weeks ago comes back to my mind repeatedly as a lesson in wise parenting.  Here it is, with my only editorial change being the use of the word "donkey" instead of...well, you know.

The Donkey and the Load of Salt

A Merchant, driving his Donkey homeward from the seashore with a heavy load of salt, came to a river crossed by a shallow ford.  They had crossed this river many times before without accident, but this time the Donkey slipped and fell when halfway over.  And when the Merchant at last got him to his feet, much of the salt had melted away.  Delighted to find how much lighter his burden had become, the Donkey finished the journey very gayly.


Next day the Merchant went for another load of salt.  On the way home the Donkey, remembering what had happened at the ford, purposely let himself fall into the water, and again got rid of most of his burden.


The angry Merchant immediately turned about and drove the Donkey back to the seashore, where he loaded him with two great baskets of sponges.  At the ford the Donkey again tumbled over, but when he had scrambled to his feet, it was a very disconsolate Donkey that dragged himself homeward under a load ten times heavier than before.


The same measures will not suit all circumstances.

What wisdom!  I'm especially impressed by how the merchant dealt with the situation, finding a way for the donkey to learn his lesson without long speeches from the merchant or harsh beatings.  He let consequences do the talking:  a very effective method of teaching.

I long to do better in this area.

I remember when I was in college, I had a certain professor, and the word spoken among students was that his young children were unruly because he tried to reason with them, and everybody knows you can't reason with a two-year-old.  But how many times do I find myself using an overabundance of words with Tobin when, in reality, the wisest approach would be to get my tongue out of the way and let consequences teach him important lessons.  I don't want to suggest that two-year-olds (or older children, or younger, for that matter) are incapable of receiving verbal instruction and so should not be taught in words.  Of course not!  But I do long for clear thinking so that I will be able to quickly discover ways to teach my sons the lessons that will prepare them for success in the future.

And just like the "Donkey" in this fable found out, many times, natural consequences are hands-down the best teacher.  May I have the wisdom to let them speak!

If November Had 32 Days...

...I wouldn't feel quite as behind as I do now.

Actually, when I remember where I was a year ago and how behind I felt going into that Christmas season, I realize that this year, I'm actually way ahead of the game!  To give just one example, last year I wrapped all the Christmas gifts on Christmas Eve--and by "wrapped," I mean, "shoved into gift bags and threw some tissue paper on top"!   Not my most favorite way to spend that special evening.  This year, I've already had two sessions of wrapping gifts (one was made possible by the kindness of Sally, who generously gave of her time to come over with her kids and watch my kids one afternoon so that I could have some free time to do whatever I wanted--what a friend!), and it's delightful to look under the Christmas tree and already see some pretty packages under there. :)

But here is the area that I am blatantly behind in:

Yikes!  November rolled around, and it was my grand intention to post something about this theme every day.  I even had a list of ideas jotted down in one of my drafts:  ideas about memorable encounters that changed the course of my life or taught me a valuable lesson, stories that I wanted to reflect upon and share.  But I didn't get very far into the month before events of life crowded out my intentions to write those stories; and then when I got caught up in the mother-in-law series...well, it was all over for Encounters after that!

But now that December is here, does that mean I can't go back and finish (or add to, even if I don't finish) the 30 Days Thankful series?  Of course not!  Gratitude is good and right any time of the year.  And besides, I didn't finish last year's 30 Days Thankful theme until the very last day of the year.  Compared to that, I'm astonishingly early.  ;-)

Encounters #8, 9, 10, 11, 12

I want to group these encounters together because they all involve books.  Let me tell you about five books that have significantly impacted me.  As fellow readers can imagine, limiting myself to five is quite difficult; but I'll try to contain myself and not go over that number.  :)  Additionally, I will try to keep my natural wordiness in check so that I can give a brief summary of each encounter and then zoom ahead to the next one.  Each of these almost deserve their own blog post, but I'll do my best to lump them together so that I can catch up a little.  :)

When I was in college, I went through a period of questioning my faith and trying to determine whether the spiritual path of my parents was the one I wanted to travel.  In hindsight, I realize that was completely normal; but at the time, it made my whole world feel a little shaky.  During a conversation with one of my professors, Dr. Terry Brensinger, he recommended that I read Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis.  I complied; and as I started reading it, it was like water to a desert wanderer who is dying of thirst.  That book gave strong bones and mighty muscles to my weak-at-the-time faith, and I realized that it is not only right to believe, it is also reasonable.  That was a life-changing revelation, to say the least.  (And I am trying to say the least.  But oh, I'd love to say more about this!)

On to the next one...

During my senior year of college, my roommates threw a surprise bridal shower for me--and, oh, I'd love to say more about this, too!  One of the gifts I received that night (I believe it was from my friend Susan Monserrate) was The Five Love Languages by Dr. Gary Chapman.  At the time, I had not heard of love languages...or Dr. Gary Chapman.  I thought he was Amy Grant's (now ex-)husband.  Nope, different Gary Chapman.  Anyway, what a blessing that Susan gave me that book and that I was able to read it (and Jeff read it, too) at the beginning of marriage and establish healthy love-language usage from the start of our married life!  I love reading marriage books and had done so before marriage and continued to do so after marriage (I still do, as a matter of fact), so I've read lots of good ones; but The Five Love Languages wins the title of Most Helpful, as far as simple, practical, down-to-earth help for marriages (and other relationships, too, since we all benefit from understanding the concept of love languages).  When Jeff and I weren't feeling close or when we were hitting bumps in the road, it was incredibly useful to think of the love languages, discern which ones we were or were not speaking, and then be able to change quickly to fill up each other's love tanks.  The other wonderful thing that book did for us was open the door to communication about our own needs.  For example, I could say to Jeff, "I need some words of affirmation," and he would, without hesitation, pour forth meaningful, loving words.  This course of action is vastly preferable to using the silent treatment...or the loud treatment (yelling at each other)...or the completely senseless game of let's-see-if-he-can-read-my-mind-and-figure-out-what's-wrong treatment.  

Gotta stay focused, so I can move on...

As newlyweds, we knew we wanted to find a good church to become involved in; but the process of discovering one that seemed like a good fit for both of us seemed almost insurmountable at times.  Everything changed one day, however, when a man in his 30s named Bob Ricker walked into the barbershop where Jeff worked, sat down in Jeff's chair for a haircut, shared deeply from his heart about his cancer and his young family and his church and his zeal for God's work, then walked out, having left a copy of Discipling by Gordon Ferguson for Jeff to read.  Read it, he did--pen in hand, ready to criticize, marking furiously in the margins, arguing points about the Greek text and legalism and all those "one-another" scriptures Gordon had dug out of the Bible and grouped in this book.  From Jeff's initial harsh critique...to hours and hours of conversation with Bob, his wife Jayne, and many of their friends...to eventual membership in that church:  all prompted by Discipling.  In actuality, it led to much more than membership in a specific church; it actually redefined for us what church was.  And for two people who had been through as much religious stuff as Jeff and I, that redefinition was life-altering.  We're still feeling the effects of it.  :)

Three down, two more to go...

When we returned to the States after having lived in the Middle East for two and a half years, we once again found ourselves somewhat in a state of spiritual bewilderment.  After having witnessed a wide range of religious experiences (and that's just within the Christian tradition!)--everything from participating in very charismatic worship services with Messianic Jews to watching an Orthodox woman weep as she anointed a stone slab in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre--I was wondering things like, "What kind of worship is right?  What kind is wrong?  And what kind do we now involve ourselves in?"  The typical American Sunday morning church service left us feeling empty.  What should fill us?  Then I read Streams of Living Water by Richard Foster and was reminded again of the vastness of God's character compared to ours and the value of various expressions of worship.  Foster talks about six traditions:  contemplative, holiness, charismatic, social justice, evangelical, and incarnational.  He did it in such an uplifting way that, rather than feeling like the spiritual mutts that Jeff and I really are with our varied church experiences, I was left grateful for the way these six traditions had already touched my life, humble in my attitude towards fellow believers who excel in one tradition or another (perhaps different ones than I do), and eager to learn more and grow in each of the six.  I should probably read this book again!

OK, last one...

This is the easy one.  Why?  Because I've written about it before!  It's Small Beginnings by Barbara Curtis, and I'm just going to link to the post in which I wrote about it way back in February of 2008, when Tobin was just a month old.  I love this book!

Whew, I did it.  Encounters 8-12 are complete.  That's five more I get to check off my list.  Will I make it to 30?  ;-)

Five {Quick} Tidbits

Tonight was my family night, and here's what I did to celebrate:  made waffles for dinner (with my two favorite sauces), then watched the movie Spirit with my family.  Movie nights with all of us (except Shav, who was already in bed) sitting down together to watch something are RARE.  In fact, I can't remember the last time we did that; but tonight it made a fun, relaxing ending to the day to take the time to watch that together.  

As we watched, I couldn't help but think of how Jeff and I took Josiah, when he was a tiny baby, to the theater to watch that when it first came out.  We were living in San Diego, and Josiah was just a few months old, when we did that.  He slept through it, if I remember correctly.  What a difference between that tiny baby and the big eight-year-old that wanted to sit on my lap during most of the movie tonight!

Even better than the movie tonight were the words of affirmation that were given me around the supper table; surely that is the best part of family nights.  Being filled up in that way makes me want to lavishly pour out encouragement upon others, because I know how precious such words are.

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Meet my newest craving:

No, I'm not pregnant.  I don't think it's possible for me to use the word "craving" in a sentence without someone jumping to the conclusion that I might be pregnant.  So no, I'm not.  I am, however, enjoying these chips very, very much.  They have just the right amount of zing to them.  Oo la la, I love it!

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It's probably ironic to post this quote after I just admitted to watching a movie for my family night, but I read this recently and had to smile at it.

I find television very educational.  Every time someone switches it on I go into another room and read a good book.

~ Groucho Marx

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And here is another quote that stood out to me.

The art of motherhood involves much silent, unobtrusive self-denial, an hourly devotion which finds no detail too minute.

~ Honoré de Balzac

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I didn't know how to type the é in Honoré.  It's a good thing I know about this very helpful website:  How to Type!  Wondering how to do ½ or © or ♥?  You'll find it there!

Fences

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.

The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs.  The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.

I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
"Stay where you are until our backs are turned!"
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side.  It comes to little more:

There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, "Good fences make good neighbors."

Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
"Why do they make good neighbors?  Isn't it
Where there are cows?  But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down!"  I could say "Elves" to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself.  I see him there,
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.

He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."
~ poem by Robert Frost
~ photos by me, taken at the Frontier Culture Museum yesterday

Ten Tidbits

Every time I sit down at the computer, I'm struck with amnesia.

I check email, look at the new header on my blog, open my Google Reader, flit here and there; and after a while, I walk away from the computer...and suddenly realize that I didn't accomplish anything that I had intended to do when I sat down in front of the computer.

I usually have a plan--i.e. I need to send an email to our homeschool group, respond to Sally's question, and look up some info about volcanoes for Josiah--and then somehow, I don't remember to do ANY of it...until five minutes AFTER I leave the computer.

What's wrong with my brain?  I think I lose brain cells every minute I sit in front of this screen.  ;-)

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I just finished reading Stepping Heavenward by Elizabeth Prentiss, and I discovered many gems in it.  But tonight I'm thinking of these lines in particular.  This, in a nutshell, is why I blog:
"How thankful I am that I kept this journal and that I have almost as charming ones about most of my other children!  What I speedily forgot amid the pressure of cares and of new events is safely written down and will be the source of endless pleasures to them long after the hand that wrote has ceased from its labors and lies inactive and at rest.
Ah, it is a blessed thing to be a mother!"

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Josiah read six books today.  In one day.  Six books.  He's a wild man.  :)

His latest love when it comes to reading is Boxcar Children books, and we check out piles and piles of them from the library.  If we didn't have the library, we wouldn't be able to afford all the books that boy goes through!

He's so into it when he reads.  I love to hear his laughter in the funny parts, his anxiety in the suspenseful parts, his exclamations in the "now I get it" parts.  He LOVES trying to figure out the mystery before the author reveals it.

I don't know what books are going to capture his attention when he finishes reading the Boxcar Children ones.  Suggestions?

As far as movies go, he's really enjoyed Scooby Doo movies recently.  He's at the stage of getting a huge kick out of the silly humor in them, and I smile when I hear his peals of laughter float up the stairs as he cracks up at Scooby and Shaggy.

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After having some cooler, suggestive-of-fall weather, we're back to hot, hot days again.  Fortunately, the nights cool down, and there's easily a 30-degree difference between high and low temps these days.

I have been extraordinarily grateful for our air conditioning this summer--more so than any other summer since we've been back.  Last summer, I thought I was going to be SO hot because of being so far along in my pregnancy; but it wasn't bad at all.  This summer, the heat has been far more bothersome to me, even though I'm not carrying an internal heater around with me!  :)

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Speaking of summer, I've been grateful that we haven't had as many flies as we did last year (which seemed to be a record-breaker as far as the abundance of flies).  And speaking of record-breaking, we have not had ants in the kitchen once this summer.  Not once.  I'm flabbergasted.

It's certainly not due to the immaculate condition in which I've continually kept my kitchen because that - sigh - hasn't happened.  Nevertheless, I'm very thankful for whatever unknown factor has kept the ants away this year.

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This was the scene in our front yard a few weeks ago:

The rabbit watched something.
The cat watched the rabbit.
I watched them both.

Fortunately, for the rabbit, he is fast; and the cat never got to do more than look.

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This is what flexibility looks like for me these days:  I work in whatever room of the house Shav is happy in.

I might start the day with a plan to focus on my pile of paperwork by the telephone and to clean the refrigerator; but if Shav is playing happily in the laundry room, that is where I'll end up spending my time!  Or maybe I think I'll work in my room and finally get ALL the laundry folded and put away; but then I hear how well Shav and David are playing together in the living room, and I don't want to disturb that by moving Shav upstairs.  We all know the saying, "Don't wake a sleeping baby," but I'm adding a new one:

Don't move a content baby!

I can be flexible.  I can work wherever Shav is happy.  And goodness knows that I can always find something to do in each room of the house!!!

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Josiah loves paper, and he uses plenty of it.  Because I can't save every single precious scrap that he touches with a pencil, I've snapped these pictures instead:

~ a retelling of the parable of the man who found great treasure in a field

~ directions for how make "jewels" - I especially love the last step of the process, "Have fun."  That's an important step, yes?  So important that People Who Write Directions for Children's Activities often include it as their final instruction.  Ever noticed that?  Josiah did--and imitated it perfectly.  :)

~ Josiah's "What to do when I grow up list" - and then he didn't write anything - not one single career ambition - but that's OK: his career goals change almost daily, so it really would be too much trouble to write them all down!

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You might be a country doctor if...

...your patients cry when they visit you for the last time before you retire, claim that you're a part of their family - and then hand you a bag of eggplants from their garden as a parting gift!

I surely am glad Dulcimer just posted a recipe using eggplants, because I had never cooked eggplants before and had no idea what to do with them when Dad handed me the eggplants that his patient handed him.

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A quote that struck me:

My friends, adoption is redemption. It's costly, exhausting, expensive, and outrageous. Buying back lives costs so much. When God set out to redeem us, it killed Him.

~ Derek Loux

seen at Living to Love

Normally I Would Be Blogging...

...but not tonight. This hour of the night when kids are finally in bed and asleep belongs to me, and I revel in this time to write. But at the moment, as I hurriedly type, thunder is rumbling (and I pray it brings some rain with it!!!), and I want to get off the computer as soon as possible. Besides--and more importantly--I need to spend some time trying to figure out a strategy for dealing with ungrateful, complaining hearts. Attitudes--we've got plenty of them 'round here! I've pulled out my copy of Shepherding a Child's Heart, and I'm ready to roll. If the electricity goes out in this storm, I'll read by flashlight, which is not as romantic as candlelight, but a whole lot safer when you're reading in bed!

'Night!

The Clean Plate Club

My Problem Child post needed a follow-up, I think, so let me pull my thoughts together and jot down some things that are helping as I train Tobin up in the way he should go.

First, a month or so ago (maybe a little longer), Jeff and I decided that it was time to let Tobin join The Club. The Clean Plate Club. Previously, it was a club with 6 members (Grandpa, Grandma, Jeff, me, Josiah, and David), although at times, the younger members of the club wished they weren't a part of it. ;) But now it was time to let the 7th member join, so from here on out, the general expectation is that Tobin will eat everything on his plate at each meal.

Before I'm accused of child cruelty, let me clarify a few things. Notice that I said "general expectation."

~ If we are in a restaurant, in someone else's home, or have guests here (for example, our monthly potlucks when the children tend to be more focused on the people than on the food), Tobin doesn't necessarily have to eat everything on his plate.

~Anything spicy, including raw onions, is excluded from this requirement.

~ For Josiah and David, we have given them a pass when it comes to eggs, since they both seem to think they can't stand them, even to the point of gagging and throwing up when confronted with them (although, of course, they eat eggs in various dishes, but when it's eggs alone, they have a problem and we don't push the issue). If a particular food arises that bothers Tobin so much, he'll probably get a pass on that item, too.

~ Also, we try to be very intentional about only putting a little food on Tobin's plate; and then if he eats that, he can definitely ask for more. Once in a while, we overload his plate, see him struggling to finish it, and then realize that it's too much, so we extend grace in those situations. Or occasionally, he will just act like he's not hungry at all, and I'll remember that he had a snack that morning during Sunday school, or I gave him goldfish crackers on the way home from soccer practice, or whatever. So there is lots of mercy, and eating everything on his plate is not really a hardship.

Unless...

...he's just joined the club and is testing the boundaries to see what he can get away with. I know Mommy and Daddy said I had to eat everything on my plate, but do they really mean everything? In cases like that, this might happen:

On this particular day, weeks ago (this probably occurred during the very first week we implemented this), Tobin lingered so long at lunch that he actually fell asleep there. The food on his plate that he decided he was NOT going to eat? Nothing weird, just a few bites of grilled cheese sandwich. (David pulled this stunt once with blueberries. He LIKES blueberries!) When Tobin did this, I simply picked him up, kissed his soft cheeks, and carried him to bed for his nap; I didn't wake him up and make him eat the food, or save it for him for the next meal, or anything like that. We started fresh at suppertime to help him learn this lesson (and if my memory is correct, he peacefully ate everything on his plate at supper and didn't push the boundaries).

So why do we do this? In a nutshell, we do it to help our children learn to submit to authority because we've found that if they learn this principle in one specific, concrete area, they will be able to apply it more easily and quickly to other areas.

I know there are many families out there who don't have this guideline, and that's fine! Each set of parents has the responsibility before God to raise their children as they see best, and there's not just one way in which to do that. But we have found, for us, that the food issue is a relatively easy area in which to teach the child submission because the consequence is simple: you sit in your chair until you eat all your food. It's easy to see when obedience has occurred; it's easy to enforce the consequences when it hasn't; it's easy for the child to know exactly what is expected. And really, after just a few times of implementing this, Tobin picked up on it and fully joined The Clean Plate Club without as much angst as I thought would be coming!

Besides learning the principle of submission, here are some other pleasant side effects:

~ the child expands their food preferences and learns, through repeated exposure, to like peas or casseroles or pears or whatever food they were sure they didn't like and would never like (and then later admitted, "that wasn't so bad," and a few times later said, "I kind of like this!")

~ in social situations, it's so refreshing to have children who are willing to be gracious and grateful and try new foods, rather than having to say to hosts, "Well, we'd love to come over, but Josiah will only eat chicken nuggets and David will only eat strawberry jam on white bread with the crusts cut off and Tobin only likes mac and cheese and Shav won't open up for anything but Dannon yogurt!" I have a few food stories of when I was in important social situations and was forced to eat things I really would rather not have, and how grateful I was for the lessons my parents taught me in this regard...I've told these stories to my boys so often that they probably have them memorized :)

~ the child learns to only take as much food as he can eat...he learns his body signals and learns to avoid the "his eyes were bigger than his stomach" trap...every time we go to buffet restaurants, I'm astonished at how much food people take and then DON'T EAT...what a shameful waste!...I hope, by us teaching our boys this basic principle now, they will learn to show self-control in this area...and by the way, our expectation that our children will eat everything on their plate does NOT lead to being overweight...it DOES lead to self-control which is vital for living a happy life

Sometimes as I go through my days, I spot children who seem to have no concept of living under authority. On the contrary, it appears that they rule the roost and expect their parents to bend over backwards to satisfy their every whim and desire. Seeing situations like that makes my heart ache--not only for the parents and their frustration when dealing with the child, but also for the child who is being set up for a very rude awakening. Like I mentioned before, I have no problem at all with parents who don't have the "eat everything on your plate" standard; but please, for the love of your child, have SOME area in which that dear little one can learn that he/she is not the center of the universe before he/she makes the people around him/her thoroughly miserable by his/her selfishness, disobedience, and lack of respect!

The interesting thing that I've noticed since Tobin joined The Club is that, overall, his general behavior has started to improve; and I'm confident that the submission he is learning in that aspect of life is leaking into other areas and will continue to do so. That's the kind of leak I like! :)

Well, that was a long first point! The other three won't consume nearly as much time and space. :)

Second, play with him. I've learned this one through experience, but I also read about it recently in the book See How They Run by Lorilee Craker. In it, Lorilee interviews Laurie Sargent (who wrote the book The Power of Parent-Child Play), and she includes these words from Laurie:

But do take time to stop and deliberately play a few times a day. Grab a puzzle with small pegs or another "thinking" activity. These serve as a small window into your child's mind and keep you excited about all he is learning. Also, if you are feeling exasperated by the constant babyproofing and messes, you need to stop and play. Seeing your child reach developmental milestones during playtime will help you enjoy parenting more. If your child is hanging on to your leg and whining, he's likely to need a dose of playtime with you to feel securely loved before he crawls or toddles off to explore again. But even if you both feel fine, don't let too much time pass without playing. Your child is changing every day! Don't miss it.

I agree completely. When my stress level is rising and my patience with Tobin is running low, my sure-fire way of turning things around is to drop whatever I'm doing and say, "Tobin, let's have some storytime. Do you want to pick a book, or shall I?" He smiles and runs to get a book, then we cuddle on the couch to read it. Peace is restored.

I'm not suggesting that this method be employed in the face of outright disobedience or major behavioral issues that need to be addressed; but to produce an about-face when things are getting unpleasant, this can't be beat. And really, is it so important that I organize that particular drawer in my kitchen at that exact moment in time, or would the time be better spent showing love to and making a memory with my quickly-growing toddler?

Third, work with him. This may seem contrary to my previous point, but what I really mean is this: let him help me, even when the "help" is anything but! :) If I'm doing laundry, what good is accomplished by me speeding through it as quickly as possible? Why not take the time to let him bring over the stool to the washing machine, dump the soap in, and put clothes in as I hand them to him? Why not pick him up and let him push the button to make the dryer turn on, rather than me pushing it quickly as I'm racing to exit the laundry room? What's the big rush?

When I'm doing dishes, why not take the extra step of getting out a dishpan for him, letting him push over a chair, and allowing him to "rinse" the dishes for me? When I'm dusting, why not give him the old feather duster and let him try his hand at dusting? And so on...

Sometimes I feel like if I don't have a couple of uninterrupted hours to do a project, I can't get anything done, so I wait for his nap time and then try to accomplish so much during that time. But I'm learning how to do my work WITH Tobin, because not only do I get more done, but I have a happier son and I'm a happier mommy.

Fourth, remember that this too shall pass. Tobin will not always be two. Tobin will not always resist getting into his carseat; in fact, someday, he won't even need to ride in one. Tobin will not always need to be watched with an eagle eye when we're in the library, lest he get into some kind of mischief there. Tobin will not always drag his feet when I ask him to come, thereby technically obeying (because he's moving) but doing it so slowly that I want to scream. And speaking of screaming, Tobin will not always scream when he's frustrated beyond words or provoked by a brother. Time will pass (whether I want it to or not), and these issues will pass as well. When I'm weary of the battle, I remember that I will not always be fighting it; but now, while I am engaged in this battle, I want to be faithful to use these opportunities to shape the heart and character of my beloved Tobin Bear. These issues will pass, that's true; but other issues will arise. So if he learns a good foundation of morals and values now, he will be blessed with an easier time of it later. He'll reap a "harvest of righteousness and peace," as the writer of Hebrews puts it.

Tonight after the Independence Day parade downtown, we went to Country Cookin' for dinner; and afterwards, we were sitting on the benches in the mall corridor, watching our oldest three boys running up and down and around a ramp outside the restaurant. A nice older lady and her husband walked by us, on their way into the restaurant; and she remarked to us that it reminded her so much of when they were young and were sitting there watching their children run up and down the ramp. She said, "The time goes so fast," and I know she's right. Someday I'll be an old lady (Lord willing...unless He returns first, or I die young!), and I'll wistfully watch young families and think back to the days when my boys were so small. I don't want to waste this time. These are precious days--for Tobin and for all of us--and though they may also be long and exhausting and trying and just plain HARD, I want to embrace this time--embrace the challenges, embrace the opportunities.

I'll start by crossing the hall to embrace him. :)

Quick Quotes

I've only got a moment to blog tonight. That's just enough time to jot down a few quotes that have been swirling through my head.

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Someone came to Jeff recently to ask his advice about whether she and her husband should try to have another child. She expected him to say yes, so was surprised when he expressed his opinion that they shouldn't (for a number of compelling reasons). As Jeff was telling us the story over supper one evening, he said, "People assume that, because I have four children, I think everyone should have eight!" :)

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Since we've been attending a different church, Josiah has started becoming friends with the children of one of my "old," dear friends; and she reported to me that on Sunday morning, her daughter came to her and said, "Do I look nice?" Of course, my friend answered in the affirmative. And then her daughter said, "Do you think that Josiah will think I look nice?" Oh my, are we into that stage of parenting so soon?! :)

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The Chronicles of Narnia are full of wonderful quotes; but this is the one that's been on my mind this evening:

In The Last Battle, Tirian is talking to Jill about what might be inside the stable. He says, "There's no knowing. But courage, child: we are all between the paws of the true Aslan."

How grateful I am to live life "between the paws!"

My Favorite C.S. Lewis Quote...

...for now, anyway. He wrote so many profound things that I could never choose just one to be my favorite. :)

For Christmas, we gave The Chronicles of Narnia CDs done by Focus on the Family Radio Theatre to Josiah and David. I thought they would like them, but I didn't anticipate how much I would love them, too. For the past three months, almost every time we go somewhere in the car with the boys, they ask to listen to the Narnia CDs. Listening to those stories makes small trips around town more fun, but it's really invaluable when we're traveling longer distances - like during our trips to DC last Wednesday to pick up our friend Jenya and yesterday to return him - and need to keep small boys cheerfully entertained. Those CDs are one of my top two favorite Christmas gifts I gave this past year (the other one is written about here). :)

Recently we finished listening to Prince Caspian and heard again this great quote. Caspian, who is now king, is listening to Aslan describe the not-always-noble history of the Telmarines, of whom Caspian is one. He laments, "I was wishing that I came of a more honourable lineage." Aslan replies:

You come of the Lord Adam and the Lady Eve, and that is both honour enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor in earth. Be content.

I Told Myself...

...that I was NOT going to start another book until I finished the 537 (give or take a few) other ones that I'm in the middle of reading! I lectured myself about being self-disciplined and not giving in to the allure of a fresh new book, its pages just waiting to be turned. No, rather than begin a new one, I would continue reading one of the many wonderful books I have in various places around the house. Surely between the pile on my nightstand, the pile on my end table by my rocking chair, the pile on the counter by the telephone, the ones on the bookshelf in the kitchen, the ones in the pie safe--surely between all of these, I could set my mind on one to read until the end. I would not be swayed.

But then it happened. I was passing the bookshelf in my bedroom when a book called out to me and begged for me to take it up and open its cover. I tried to resist, but in the end I couldn't.

And I'm so glad.

The book is For Women Only by Shaunti Feldhahn. It's not very long, and it's not difficult to read; but it is packed with helpful info, mostly things that I've heard before but needed to be reminded of, but also some new thoughts. For example, this hit me between the eyes:

So how do we know when we've crossed the disrespect line? Thankfully, there is one easy barometer: Check for anger.

Before I elaborate, let me ask you to consider a question: If you are in a conflict with the man in your life, do you think that it is legitimate to break down and cry? Most of us would probably answer yes. Let me ask another question: In that same conflict, do you think it is legitimate for your man to get really angry? Many of us have a problem with that--we think he's not controlling himself or that he's behaving improperly.

But Emerson Eggerichs, founder of Love and Respect Ministries, has an entirely different interpretation: "In a relationship conflict, crying is often a woman's response to feeling unloved, and anger is often a man's response to feeling disrespected."

As I thought back to the last major conflict I had with Jeff (which happened last summer), I could see with startling clarity how this dynamic was played out. I cried--and felt perfectly justified--but condemned the anger he showed, even though he never lost control of himself or expressed that anger in damaging ways. How foolish of me.

Recently I've felt like I have so much to learn about how to be the kind of wife that God desires me to be; and while that thought can be discouraging and overwhelming at times, it can also bring an excitement and zeal and determination to change and improve and soar to greater heights in this spectacular adventure we call marriage.

Caution

Books can be hazardous to your health.

I'm not talking about the damage to your eyes that could result from reading in poor light...or the headaches that could come from straining to read small print...or the exhaustion that could follow a late night of reading "just one more chapter" until, in the end, the entire book is read and the clock says 3:18 a.m. I'm also not referring to the danger of dropping a heavy book on your big toe or the sharp corners of a tall stack of library books digging into your ribs as you try to wrestle them all into the too-small bag you brought to carry them home.

Here is the hazard I'm thinking of: nausea, real nausea, resulting from getting so emotionally wrapped up in the lives of the people in the book you're reading that you physically feel ill because of the harsh circumstances of their lives.

That's what happened to me last night, and it came from reading a fiction book. Fiction! I had to tell myself that it wasn't real, the story was made up, no one by the name of Lucy really lived in that situation, etc. But my heart wasn't buyin' it. I know that even fiction books can describe how life really was for people; and in the case of the book I was reading, it painted all-too-clearly the horrors of life in pre-World War II Europe.

The latest series I've been reading while nursing Shav (although my reading time has diminished greatly because of him sleeping through the night) is the Zion Covenant books by Bodie Thoene. I'm currently about 3/4 of the way through the last book in the series; and although all of the books have been edge-of-my-seat gripping, this one in particular has had a powerful effect on me. Last night I was so paralyzed with fear of what was going to occur that I actually skipped ahead in the book a few chapters to see what happened with Lucy (and I never "cheat" and look ahead). And then, as I continued to read, I started feeling sick--so sick--sick enough to moan to Jeff, "Oh, I don't feel very good."

All from reading a fictional book.

On the one hand, it's so silly to be this involved in what I read. On the other hand, it's absolutely horrifying to think of how many people--men, women, and children--faced, in real life, the difficulties described in the book. All of the characters I'm reading about are intriguing; all of them make me hold my breath as I anxiously await the outcome the author has decided for them. But Lucy--dear Lucy--and her baby! I'm reduced to tears--and nausea--as I read about her.

All of this strong emotion makes me hold my boys a little longer and tighter. It reminds me to cherish these moments when Josiah wants to sit in my lap during the violin concert we attended tonight, when he hugs me and says, "You're the best mommy in the world"...the times when David is so delighted by the simple act of getting his face painted like a kitty cat today at the relief sale, when he "meows" at the people we stop to talk to so that they will know what he is (as if it wasn't obvious by the painted whiskers on his face)...the times when Tobin lifts his little arms to me and looks imploringly into my eyes, wanting me to pick him up, and the times when he stands up and so cautiously takes some steps, all the while looking around to see if anyone is noticing him and ready to applaud...the opportunity to hold Shav and nurse him without fear of what his future holds, to take a nap with him on my chest like I did this afternoon. These moments are gold, pure gold; and today I feel like I can't get enough of them.

It hasn't been a good day as far as housework goes since I hardly did anything around the house. But when it comes to what really matters, it's been an excellent day. I almost wish Shav would wake up in the night so that I could sneak in even more snuggle time with my little lovebug. But since he's sleeping soundly, I'm just going to pick up my book again...and read one more section...just one...and hopefully tonight I won't feel like I have to throw up, just from reading a book.

Brilliant! ... and Not-So

Brilliant: the colors of nature surrounding me today...vivid green grass, gorgeous blue sky, white and gray clouds scudding across the vast expanse, attention-getting daffodils...I had the opportunity to get out of the house and drive several places today, and my time in the car brought such delight as I drank in the sight of such vivacious colors

Brilliant:  the way the dark blue of the paint I chose for my bedroom walls looks against the newly-painted white trim...dark blue and white is my absolute favorite color combination and has been as long as I can remember...I am immensely pleased with how the bedroom is coming along!

Not-so-brilliant:  my choice to stay up until 2:30 AM last night, just to finish reading a book...it's been ages since I did that, but A Voice in the Wind gripped me so much that I was powerless to put it down before I reached the end (even though I knew what was going to happen because I've read the book before) :)...fortunately, today was such a busy day that I didn't have time to sit for a moment and realize that I was tired...it's hitting me now though, so even though I would like to just peek at the first page of the first chapter of the next book in the series, I'll show great restraint and not even pull the book off the shelf!

A Revelation

About a week and a half ago, the boys and I stopped by the Sacra's house to drop off some fresh eggs for them from our little flock of hens. We were on our way home from Josiah's choir class so we got to the Sacra's a little before 5:30, just before all the family members came home, just before dinner time. And there I had a revelation...

I've written on the blog before about how that hour of the day often seems to be a "piranha hour" for us, with the munchkins tired and hungry and circling, ready to snap their little jaws at me and each other, and I suppose I'm the biggest piranha of them all since I too often find myself at the end of my figurative rope by that hour of the day, ready to be rescued by Jeff who walks in the door exhausted by his long day at work and ready for some peace and quiet. Fortunately, I have seen some improvement in how we all relate to each other during this time; and I'm hopeful that as the boys grow and mature (and as I mature and become more like Jesus), this hour of the day will become easier and more refreshing for each of us. But despite the improvement, it still wasn't a time of day that I looked forward to; in fact, my attitude was more like, "Well, let's just get through this the best we can."

I've also mentioned a time or two how that time of evening can be a melancholy time for me, particularly when it's winter, particularly when I have pregnancy or postpartum hormones flowing through me! :) I certainly don't get the blues every evening, but once in a while I do...and again, my attitude was more focused on pushing through and "surviving" that time of day, rather than celebrating it.

However, in an instant, I glimpsed an alternative view of that time of day. When the door of the Sacra's home was opened to me, I caught sight of the table nicely set, the delicious aroma of supper cooking, and the feeling of WELCOME that rushed out. Suddenly I realized, "This is the very nicest time of day." Before we could even pull ourselves away from their house (our delay due, in large part, to David's insistence on showing every member of their family the band-aid he had on his finger because of a little scratch he got), several members of their family arrived home from work or whatever activities they were involved in; and I realized how sweet it must be to come home every evening after a long day and be warmly welcomed by family who has been missing you and waiting for your arrival all day long. In my role as the welcoming committee in our home, I don't get to experience the other side of it! But I saw, more clearly than ever before, the beauty of those moments of gathering together, complete as a family after a day apart; and even more, I was inspired to continue my quest for excellence even in that sometimes difficult, hungry, tired, grumpy, stretched-as-a-mother hour.

Back in June of 2007, I had included in one of my blog posts, a quote from the book A Lantern in Her Hand that describes the specialness of that time of day. As I've reflected on the scene at the Sacra's, my thoughts have come back to that portion of Aldrich's book. I needed to be reminded of it.

Another reminder came in a marriage book I finished reading just this week, Lasting Marriage: The Owners' Manual by Harvey Yoder. In it, he includes this quote from Green Mountain Farm by Elliott Merrick. The summer smoke is coming blue out of the chimney, and the window in the kitchen shows yellow. The house looks so incredibly cozy and desirable in the midst of this fiercely beautiful and merciless landscape; it is enough to tear your soul out by its roots. Into my mind comes the realization that here I am, now, out of all time and space, here in this place. And I say to myself, This is my home. My woman. A baby. Two babies. Simple things like that.

All of this combines to persuade me to change my head and heart--to no longer call it "piranha hour" but rather "coming home hour," to pursue the path of making my home a peaceful and safe haven after sometimes stormy days away, to realize that even if Josiah and David are having a silly squabble over some toy and even if Tobin has a dirty diaper that needs changed and even if supper isn't ready (or even worse, is burned) and even if no cloth napkins are on the table and no soft music is playing... Even then, as the family gathers together once more, it's the sweetest kind of homecoming; and I'll treasure it each time.