The Hidden Smile of God

      It would be so easy to believe that the world is going to hell in a hand-basket. All I need to do is listen to 5 minutes of the evening news. More families lost loved ones in the war as a helicopter of Navy Seals crashed.... The stock market plummeted 600 points....London is literally burning.... A famine rages in Africa killing thousands of children a day. Thousands. Their little faces and ravaged bodies haunt me. I turn away from the images on the screen but the pictures don't leave my mind. How does a mother watch her baby waste away without dying herself? This stuff is too big. Too Heavy. Why all the suffering?

On a personal level, fear of the future and job uncertainties taunt me in the quiet times. I hear the lie of the Evil one, "Does God really care...is He really gonna come through for you...Where is He, anyway...Does He really have your best interest at heart?"

I fight to believe truth; to take in a deep breath of grace-filled air; to believe that this world is broken and all of creation groans longing for redemption which He will one day bring. I fight to lean not on my own understanding. I fight to trust the gracious, loving, tender mercy of my Father.

"God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.
                        --William Cowper

Its Raining Today....

     You know, the kind that is steady and quiet. No thunder or lightening or winds. You might even miss it if you didn't slow down to look close enough. But it is there...gray, cold and falling softly. I paused to watch it-head resting on the window for a while this afternoon. I wondered if it were symbolic of the mourning going on all around me today. This time last week hundreds of people kissed their loved ones goodnight for the last time. Husbands held their wives, last meals were cooked in kitchens, friends laughed with friends,  and children were tucked in their beds by their mommas~for the last time. No one really knew this time last week that in 24 hours their world would be drastically different. We certainly didn't. The rain fell today and tears fell too. The tornadoes are becoming old news to the media, there's always a new day new story. But the pain of all those touched by the storms is there and I don't want to miss it.

I've said I felt like my heart was torn--ripped up by the brokenness surrounding just what little I have seen with my eyes. They say that, as an athlete's muscle acquires tears when it heals-it grows back larger and stronger. My prayer is just that. May my Father heal my torn heart and make it larger with compassion and love. Stronger with faith and full of His grace....bring on the rain.

Honored to Call Him My Son

   I didn't wake up this morning thinking today would be one that I would hide in my heart forever. I looked forward to church like I usually do, maybe more so after Cord's wreck last week. I longed to be in the presence of my Father and to quiet my heart. I didn't expect the worship to be blurred with tears and my mouth unable to sing. I didn't know that we would have women sharing cardboard testimonies with us. As David Crowder's song "How He Loves" was played, one by one these brave women walked across the stage bearing a cardboard sign. On one side, it read of their crime, addiction, or poverty. On the other side, words of their redemption and freedom. These women were from the Lovelady center which is a place that offers life, love and a new start for women who've lost it all or who are fresh out of prison. Our church partners with the center and what a blessing it has been to us. I watched and wept as I saw the ransom was paid ~written there for all to see on a cardboard sign. Bob preached on how the Lord is our Good Shepherd following that powerful display of God's grace and I knew that I had been on Holy Ground. After church, our family had the opportunity to crash the luncheon for visitors and help welcome them to Oak Mountain. I was thrilled and intimidated all at once to see the room filled not only with visitors, but also with the women who'd just shared their stories earlier. Jeremiah wanted to come along so he and I ended up at a table full of these broken and healing lives. The lady next to me was experiencing her 3rd day of freedom as she'd just gotten out of jail Friday. One was an addict who'd been clean for 2 weeks and longed to have her kids back. Another was a former prostitute whose cardboard testimony profoundly read "Prostitute" on one side and "Princess" on the other. I sat silently begging the Lord to grant me words of hope and life to give them....something that would make them feel loved, valued and welcomed here. On the outside, it appeared that I had nothing in common with them. That couldn't have been further from the truth. My cardboard sign could read a number of those things and worse. I'm an addict. Maybe not to drugs, but to any number of things that help me escape and numb the pain. No, I haven't done time for murder, yet in my heart I have been a serial killer. And I could have sat where the prostitute sat and filled her shoes well. After all, have I not sold myself time after time to thousands of other loves forsaking the one True Lover of my Soul? How in the world could I make them see that we are really not that different. How could I love them well in that short hour given? I wondered, and my son acted. I heard Jeremiah's soft spoken voice say "Excuse me Mam, but I can take your trash." There was my son putting arms and legs to the Gospel, loving and serving what society discards, offering to take the trash of prostitutes and convicts. I wish I could have frozen their faces in my mind...the smiles and pride the women showed going on and on about what a little gentlemen he was.

    Ann Voskamp often speaks of motherhood as being a sacred privilege yet one we are tempted to see as mundane.... Today, I was overwhelmed with thankfulness at the sacred privilege I have and I was honored to call him my son.

WHAT STINKS IN HERE????

     It had been "one of those days" for 2 days now. My Prince was gone and frankly, the kids were bored with me and I was tired of them. All in the last two days, the little boys got a hold of the coffee             grounds as I was brewing coffee and emptied the bag all over the counter. Someone left the freezer cracked  and the food defrosted. Jeremiah forgot to take the trash to the trash bin and something fury and alive strung  our nasty trash from one end of the deck and yard to the other. (I'm certain the neighbors were lovin' that!)    I was determined to put a dent in the laundry and ended up washing multiple loads of water. Water!!??!!       I  mean, who does that?  Jud decided to change his own dirty diaper during nap time--Praise God for            Lysol. And, to top it off, I thought I'd be smart and make dinner in advance. As five o'clock approached, I    slid  the  poppy seed chicken in the oven and went on to bath dirty little people. Our house began to fill with  the strange aroma of melting plastic and yummy food. Ooops, looks like I forgot to remove the saran            wrap before baking.                                                                                                                                    
    And that was only yesterday. Today held more excitement. More meltdowns that I could count from the 3 year old (I especially love the ones in Target or Pulix when no "bye bye" buggies are available.) I found         
 multiple messes from the baby-- I caught him in the office pulling files out of the filing cabinet....papers are    everywhere. Next, he unrolled a roll of toilet paper and played in the potty. Nice. By 5, I asked                    everyone what they wanted for dinner and loaded us up to head to multiple drive-thru destinations. To           appease each individual desire,  you may ask?  OH NO. To kill time until bed! ha! (Just a little mom trick).  Supper was consumed, baths were taken, homework completed, kitchen cleaned and we headed up for our nightly ritual of prayers, rocking and singing. The smell hit us at the top of the stairs.  WHAT STINKS IN      HERE??? It didn't take long to find out. To spare the gory details, someone allegedly, undeniably pooped in the tub. The water drained, the poop did not and it was revolting. No one 'fessed up. By process of               elimination, it wasn't hard to figure out who was guilty. What made me sad was that the guilty went to           desperate measures to cover her accident. I begged for her to just tell the truth, she wasn't in trouble....we all have accidents...don't cry. Nothing moved her. The more I talked the louder she denied it and her guilt was   blatant. Only more obvious than her guilt, was her attempt to cover it. Her denial hit a crescendo with            streams of tears. Why in the world would she not entrust the truth of the matter to me? She knew that I         knew.  Shame, guilt, embarrassment, fear, sorrow consumed her. She was a mess. And so was her poop   littering the tub! It hit me like a ton of bricks. In those big eyes pooling with tears and desperation, I saw an    image of my own self clearer than any mirror reflection I'd ever seen. God the Father whispered to me:        
     "The filth in that tub you are about to scrub is far more tame than any sin of yours and doesn't wreak half as bad. Your sin, your pride, your idols are worse that the excrement lying before you. And just as your       mother-heart breaks not for the mess, but for the pain you see as your daughter makes a maddening attempt to deny what is undeniable;  so My heart breaks when I watch you scramble to hide your sin, your shame,     your embarrassment. As you long to comfort and redeem her mess, I long to do the same with you...but      even more so.  In moments, you will humbly kneel down and scrub the foul and repulsive with bleach. But in my great love, I sent My Son to wash you. And in humility, He bowed low and did the unthinkable...with His blood you were scrubbed as white as snow."                                                                                               

Her resistance finally fell and she crumbled in my arms. I held her, comforted her and pinkie promised not to ever tell her secret. Her arms squeezed me tight and I and left her to slumber with my own heart full of much appreciation for the reminder of grace tonight. Paul Miller so eloquently states "...the very thing we avoid [exposing] like the plague-our weakness and our sin- is the door to grace in our lives."                     

Father, remind me of this. Speak your truth into my life afresh each day. Give me the courage not to conceal my junk out fear and shame, but to shine your light of grace in my darkness and grant me the grace to dare to live authentically in You. Thanks for the stink in the tub tonight...                                                                   

Heather

a new year

"And He is before all things and in Him all things hold together....."        ~Colossians 1:17


HE. The one made flesh and who dwelt among us.

HE. The one by whom all things were created, in heaven and on earth.

HE. The one whom was driven by His love to be torn from His Father because He took on my sin-my punishment....

HE IS THE ONE WHO IS BEFORE THIS YEAR AND WHO HOLDS ALL THINGS  IN THIS YEAR.

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     I often think I am the only one on earth who has anxiety about a new year. As people cheer and say farewell to the old while waiting with excitement for the new, I fret and question and fear what the New Year holds. Will this be the year that __________________ happens. Will this be the year I lose someone dear? Will this be the year that __________________ comes.  The Uncertainties. The Unknown. The Future. And my feeble faith is revealed.

I am exposed.  Did I honestly think He could not see what I'd been so desperately trying to hide? The lack of trust in His goodness, in His character.

Do I really think that if it's not voiced, its not there? He, who is all seeing, all knowing, ever present....He has seen. He has known long before I did.

And He is still here. Still present in the midst of muck. He does not shy away from the filth and darkness in my heart. Instead- as He was birthed into a stinky, dirty place,-so does He enter the stench of my heart. He does not shriek away in disgust. He stays and remains and HE holds me together.

This year I pray that I will cling to Him. That I will still myself to listen to His voice. That I will know what it is to abide in HIM and truly believe that He is able to do exceedingly and abundantly more than I could ask or imagine. This year.

~Heather

For My Littlest~On His 1st Birthday

JOSIAH LACHLAN SACHS~BORN DECEMBER 8,2009.

My sweet baby,
   How hard it is to believe that a year has come and gone! Just the other day,I found the little Christmas cap the nurses placed on your newly birthed head. It was so tiny and so difficult to remember how it once swallowed you so. As the Mother of our Saviour "treasured up all these things in her heart", so also did I treasure all the jewels I could possibly hold in my mind from your first year. If I could bottle the scent of your tiny face fresh from your bath, I would be the wealthiest woman on earth...for it was sweeter than any incense or perfume on the market!
   You were and are a priceless gift to our family. Chosen before the beginning of time, all of your days were numbered before one of them came to be (Psalm 139). Believing this truth led us on a great scavenger hunt to discover your name. The Father had named you long before we did...we only had to learn what He wanted us to call you.It was soon clear that you would be called Josiah Lachlan, meaning "God restores" and "warrior from the land of lakes". You, sweet boy, are named after the young king Josiah. The legacy of his reign and his life is found in 2 Kings. He took the throne at the age your oldest brother was when you were born-eight! The Bible says that "he did what was right in the eyes of the Lord and walked in all the way of David his father, and he did not turn aside to the right or to the left." Perhaps he is best known for the restoration and reformation he brought to the land. Under King Josiah's reign the Book of the Law was discovered after being discarded for hundreds of years. He ordered all the inhabitants of the land to gather and he read to them all of the words of the Book. "And the king stood by the pillar and made a covenant before the Lord, to walk after the Lord and to keep his commandments and his testimonies and his statutes with all his heart and all his soul, to perform the words of this covenant that were written in this book."-2 Kings 23:3  Josiah led his people in repentance, in a purging off all that was unholy and that which defiled the Lord and in restoration. In 2 Kings 23:25 we read that "neither before nor after Josiah was there a king like him, who turned to the Lord with all his heart and with all his soul and with all his might...." And that, my son, is our prayer for you. May you be a warrior who rises up and turns to the Lord with all your strength and brings restoration to your people.
   I know not the plans He has for you, but He who named you does. What I am sure of, however, is that I long to point you to Him for all the days that God gives me with you. During this short first year of life, you have brought more joy and more laughter and more delight to us- far more than I could have ever imagined. From the excitement the entire first and second grades had on the morning we would meet you-(our school Principal went to share the good news with your brother and sister's classrooms and I am told they erupted with cheers!!) To the pride your older 3 siblings had as they wore a button with your picture on it to school the next day. Oh what fun we have had with you, Josiah. Even Jud-Bud loves you with a fierce, rough and protective love! He wasn't even 2 when you came home from the hospital, but he loved to shower you with soft kisses. Some of the first words we heard him speak were "baby-hold baby"! Even still, his first act in the morning is to stop and give you a kiss. You are loved so, little one! From your first smile, first coo, first food-(not counting the cool ranch Doritos Jud shoved in your mouth when you were still toothless)-to your first crawl and first steps...we have cheered, laughed, and loved each second with you. I will treasure these moments, my son, savoring and storing each one in my heart. While you may not have many pictures to record your first year...nor do you have a baby book where all of your "firsts" were written down, I can assure you that they are forever carved in your Momma's heart. I am eternally grateful for the gift of you sweet baby. May it one day be said of Josiah Lachlan Sachs, that he is a man who loved the Lord with all his heart, all his soul and all his might.
Happy first birthday!

Love, Mommy

Beautiful

   I wish I could remember the last time the "Princesses" dined at my table. Had I realized what a fading privilege it was, I would have cooked something special...drawn out dinner a little longer and lingered over a yummy dessert. I would have memorized what they were wearing and how their crowns always sat a bit crooked upon their heads... How they laughed louder and talked bigger as a "princess". These days, the sightings are few and far between. The dress up clothes don't intrigue them like they used to and the "clip clops" have grown a size or two to small. Much to my surprise, I was thrilled to have caught a rare glimpse of one the other day.

Saddler stood in front of the full length mirror, unaware of my presence. Still as a statue, she gazed at her reflection and smiled her approval. She didn't move much. She just stood there taking in the beauty of the princess staring back at her. What she saw pleased her and her eyes shined proudly.
   "Wow. Don't you look pretty!" I exclaimed.
Without taking her eyes off herself she sweetly replied, "I know. I look beautiful."

Fighting the impulse to correct her for saying "i know" instead of "thank you", I just let her stay lost in the beauty and wonder of herself. Soon enough, those eyes that smile with approval will turn critical of what she sees in the mirror. And her grin will be replaced with a scowl. Her heart will be bombarded with lies and  self criticism will replace  self confidence. I want her to remember what it's like to feel beautiful. To feel content in how her Father has fearfully and wonderfully created her.

Her 1st Slumber Party

     She woke me up at the crack of dawn...dressed, smiling, wanting to know how many hours til the party. She began packing her bags at 7 am. Carefully she carried the hand written party invitation from room to room, retrieving each item on the list for a sleep over. A pillow-check. Toothbrush-check. Blanket-check. Toothpaste-huh? oh well, check. A bathing suit-check. And who could forget the pink polka dot sleeping bag. She was ready to go and the clock had not even struck 8:00. 

     All to early, I kissed my Prince goodbye as he hit the road for a quick business trip. The day loomed before me and I doubted if I would make it to the golden hour of 4 o'clock when the slumber party began. If I heard it once, I heard it 53,549 times-"how many minutes til we leave? Is it time? Why is the day going so slow?" I wondered the same. Finally, the time drew near and I realized that this was a milestone in her life I was about to miss. I had not prepared her. She's never spent the night away from home except with family. (Though she is extremely extroverted and a social butterfly, she's my most clingy child. She's my shadow. I literally step on her multiple times a day.)  What if she gets homesick? Ugh. I remember that dreaded feeling. I remember having a "tummy ache" or headache or any other ailment I could concoct to get back to my house. I started the pep talk making sure to cover all the important bases-be kind, use good manners, honor the Lord with your words, don't talk about others, build others up don't tear them down, serve your friends, obey.... She eagerly responded and I was proud of the little lady she's become. "Oh, and Ellie, if you get homesick and start missing us, I don't think I will be able to come get you. Dad's out of town. If you just think you can't stand it til morning, tell Mrs. K and call me."

Then she said something I hope I never forget. She said, "Don't worry mom. I am sure I will have a great time. And don't worry, if I do get homesick, I will just pray! Besides, I've gone through the whole house and memorized every room in case I miss home. And when I miss you and Daddy, I will just pray and God will be right there with me."

There are no words to describe how my heart felt....I realize this is just a sleep-over. She's literally 6 miles down the road with church/school friends. But to me, its a piece of my heart walking around outside of my body and I'm not used to this feeling yet. Today its her 1st slumber party, tomorrow she'll be leaving for college. And nothing would make me feel better about the whole situation than if she'd handle it like she handled today-"don't worry mom, I'll just pray."

May all my little chicks find comfort in the everlasting arms of their loving Father.

A New Name

We decided it was time for me to get back to blogging. After a long stretch of silence, I am glad to start up again~maybe this way I will remember something about my kids childhood! Upon trying to find my own blog, I googled "a quiver full" and to my horror  astonishment, I found that there is a whole movement/lifestyle widely known as the quiver full movement. Once I got over the shock of it all, it was really funny. I'll spare the details but it basically demonizes any form of birth control. Enough said. SOOOOOOO. I have a new blog name and address..."Its NUTS at the Sachs House."

And that it is -Nuts at our house and pretty much wherever we go. Like yesterday. I was a single mom for a few days and we were running out of milk and diapers fast. Our 2 yr old- affectionately known as the "Bud"- didn't get a nap. One child had gymnastics and another  had soccer. In the midst of the carting them from one destination to the other, I committed a cardinal sin of motherhood: The grocery store. All five animals precious lambs. At supper time. WHAT IN THE (insert explicative) WAS I THINKING?

The show started in the parking lot as the Bud  began crying and begging to ride in the "bye bye buggy" (one of those big honkin' grocery carts with steering wheels mounted on them for unruly children like mine). I hate 'em...its like pushing a train and I never fail to knock at least one display over. Not only that, but the baby's pumpkin seat won't fit which means we have to use 2 buggies. Jman and E started fighting over who would push the baby, Jeremiah stepped on Bruiser's flip-flopped clad feet with his cleats so then I had two wailing kids. The baby got startled so 3  there were screaming and I hadn't even gotten out of the parking lot. We made it to the door with me carrying Bruiser in one arm, pushing the baby in the buggy with the other, while J and E fought pushing the bye-bye buggy. I'm tired just thinking about it. 
We got inside Publix and they began the hungry whine...."Momma, we're STARVING. The least you could do is let us get a free cookie." Ugh. J ate his, E had hers-I told the other 2 they needed to wait til dinner. The Bud looked straight at me and shoved it in his mouth begging for more...nasty brown drool running down his chubby chin. We made it to isle 2 before he reached over yanked his sister's cookie out of her hands and crammed it in his mouth. More wailing. You should have seen the stares I got! As if we were a freak show or something. 

I was so done. To all the audience gawking at my fiasco, I just wanted to calmly say: "Yes,I've got my hands full. Yes, we could have our own basketball team. No, I am not babysitting any extra kids and Yes. I do know how "that" happens....
Pardon me? Do I realize my 2 yr old is standing up in the buggy? Why, yes, I do. And if I'm lucky he might fall and get knocked out (but not really hurt) for just about 5 minutes so I have won't have to hear him scream! Now leave me alone, kind Publix patrons!"

But I refrained. And that is all I want to remember about yesterday. Whew.

More Grace, Lord! More Grace!!!!

The Only Mother's Day Present I Ever Really Wanted Was To Be One...

And I got it. Five times over. (Nine, if you count my babies born straight into the arms of God.) This Mother's Day was different from the other eight I've celebrated for one reason. Perspective. I found something the other day that stopped me in my tracks. Amidst picking up the children's story books and stacking them on the hearth for what had to be the gazillionth time, an old journal tumbled out of the basket. The only entry was dated January 11, 2007. The ink on the paper was smudged with tears as I penned my grief over the loss of my "Granny" On and on I lamented over lost opportunities to glean from her wisdom, to ask her a question about sewing or even see her bounce my little ones on her knee. But one thing tightened my throat and stole my breath. The words read:

"Since she's been gone, I keep trying hard to remember conversations I had with her~things she taught me, the cooking, the sewing, the love for reading. One thing stands out in my mind clear as day- just after Jeremiah was born. I can still her her voice.Having had a stillborn herself, she knew the pain of miscarriage and the intense longing I'd had for a child. It was the weekend of Wes and Nicole's wedding...I was nursing Jeremiah and she was sitting right beside me on the hotel bed~smiling that beautiful smile and just marveling at the newborn babe in my arms. "I'm so glad you got your baby" ~And she was so happy for me. So very happy."

I read and re-read the entry. Tears rolling down my face and my heart full of thanksgiving for the legacy of mothers I have. I closed my journal and opened my heart. Opened my heart to embrace the trials and travails of this short, sweet season in my life. To look at this day as a Holy privilege and be thankful for each life the Lord has entrusted us with. To look past the sharpie on the wall, that new tube of lipstick now ruined, the mounds of laundry and dishes...To stop thinking of how many times a day I say the same thing over and over,  how they keep me from completing a task or my gosh-will bedtime ever come?! Today. Just for today, I resolved to soak up the moments to memorize the monotony, and to be thankful.

 That sounds really good, huh. Idealistic. It won't last...but today I'll celebrate this little victory. Of course Mother's Day couldn't be complete without lots of tears, attitude adjustments and a toilet clogged with a matchbox car wedged so tightly that the whole throne had to be dismantled. Ha! Just another day in the life that I love.

What a great day its been remembering the privilege of motherhood. Church was incredible-we had Communion (my favorite thing) then went for Thai food at the kids request. And I got the best gifts ever- An apron I've been wishing for from Anthropologie and a painting. What a sweet day.

Thank you, Father, for making all my dreams come true.

"We're not in Kansas, anymore ToTo!"

Things are pretty crazy around here...we have finally dried out from the monsoons and woke up to cooler weather today. I'm finding it harder to stay awake as I've hit the 3rd trimester and we don't even act like we have a baby coming in 11 weeks or less! Oh my. It'll all work out! School, friends and the kids extra-curricular activities keep us in a constant state of motion and the days fly by. I had a priceless moment with Saddler a few days ago and want to share it.
I had spent the morning running all over town with the resident celebrity of the day-"Dorothy!" She strolled through Target as proud as she could be in full costume....The precious Target workers all stopped to chat with Dorothy and some even inquired about Toto. You would have thought she was Miss America on the red carpet with her smile and wave....all the way through the entire store. The best part (besides the fact that its September and she's in her Halloween costume) is that she was singing Christmas Carols the whole time at the top of her off key little lungs! "Glo-orrr-oo-orrr-orr-ree ya! In-an-ex-a-de-yo!"
How about that for seizing the day and living life to the fullest?! Thank you, Saddler-a.k.a Dorothy-for giving us all a lesson in finding Joy wherever we are. I love your passion for life! And your ruby red slippers too:)

"The thief comes only to steal, kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly." ~John 10:10

Windows

Night has fallen and it's silent in the house. No sounds of feet running up and down stairs, no little voices calling out the last "Mommy pleases" before their eyes succumb to sleep. No, not this evening. It's unusually quiet...only the hum from the ceiling fan and the rhythmic breathing of their slumber can be heard. There is something different about tonight...there is almost a sacredness hanging in the air....sweet and tender and so peaceful I almost afraid to move.

I am at loss on how to capture it with words...I don't know if it's something human language can explain. It's more a conversation of the heart. Tonight, they gave me the privilege of catching a glimpse into their little souls. I am basking in the awe of having had the opportunity to peek through a window into their hearts....And it feels, well, Holy. Perhaps, that's just what it is. God the Father- through the power of the Spirit- slowing my busy mind and hands down enough to not miss this moment. Sadly, this is rare for me. There's always so much to do and bedtime routines are just one more thing to check off my list before I can have some time to myself. Tonight was different for reasons known only to Him and I am thankful.

It happened at the conclusion of our nightly Bible reading. There were no flashes of lightening or rolls of thunder...just little hearts wanting to share and a mother willing to listen. Our story was from Matthew when Jesus tells us not to worry about what we will eat or drink or what we will wear...is our worth not far more than that of the little sparrows??? And so the question I asked to all of us was "what do you worry about?" They each thought, and then answered. Ellie worries about bad dreams. Jeremiah worries when we aren't back from a "date" until late that something has happened to us and police put us in jail. Saddler worries that a bad guy will shoot her daddy with a gun and he won't be able to get home to get his sword to fight back with. Silly. Disturbing. Comical. Sad. Those words came to mind as each voiced their fears....far fetched worries yet legitimate in their minds.

"Mommy worries too," I tell them. I watch their curious eyes search me -waiting for me to go on.

"I have a hard time not worrying. I don't want to worry...I want to trust God more and grow in not having any worries. But I worry. I worry about you-that you might get hurt or very sick. I worry about Daddy while he travels-and I always worry that I am not being a good enough mom to you guys or that one day, you won't love God!" Carefully yet deliberately I chose my words. Careful, so as to spare them the details of the horrific fears I battle with when it comes to the thought of losing them or my husband. Deliberate in the fact that they have the right to see a flawed, sinful mother who seeks to cling to the cross as best I know how.

Their sweet faces tilt, and take in my words with deep compassion...they understand. We share that common bond. And then Jeremiah, my seeker of wisdom, asks what I do when I worry? Easy to say, hard to do-I simply answered, "PRAY." That became a springboard which plunged us into a deep conversation of taking thoughts captive, replacing them with good thoughts, saying a favorite verse over and over, or thinking about whatever it is that brings joy...for those are the things of God. Weapons in our hands to do battle in the war against worry.......

Our time closed in family prayer and the sweetest recitation of scripture my ears have ever heard. We are memorizing Psalm 139 and together, their precious voices raised boldly to proclaim:

"O Lord. You have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up. You discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my paths and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, Behold, O Lord! You know it altogether. You hem me in behind and before and lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me! It is high, I cannot attain it."

Kisses and hugs were given all around and quiet fell upon the house. It's too rich to explain. I know how poorly I am doing at this attempt. But it's just to special to overlook in a hurry to catch the latest news.

I sought my favorite commentary sight preceptaustin.org for more thoughts from those verses to meditate on. This is what I found:

"...And art acquainted with all my ways." Thou art familiar with all I do; nothing is concealed from thee, nor surprising to thee, nor misunderstood by thee. Our paths may be habitual or accidental, open or secret, but with them all the Most Holy One is well acquainted. This should fill us with awe, so that we sin not; with courage, so that we fear not; with delight, so that we mourn not. ~Charles Spurgeon

To think that the God of the universe knows me, created me, feeds/clothes/provides/plans my days out for me even before the beginning of time.... This deity,God, is the one I call Father. Tonight, I rest in the truth that I am known intimately by Him, hemmed in by Him, and laid down under His watchful eye with His Hand upon me. That is an amazing thought to me and I am so thankful. Thankful for His love and thankful for the unexpected gift of having been given a window with which to see my children's souls.

Gleaning Wisdom

A friend introduced me to a new blog I am growing to love. You can find it in my blog list titled "In all Honesty". The author is Jean-an Australian mother of four and she is a deep well of wisdom. I read something she wrote the other day that has really stuck with me. In her post, she sites Tim Chester's book, You Can Change, as turning her life upside down. She says: "Every time I feel anxious, overwhelmed, discouraged or guilty. When I am tempted to value the praise of others over the praise of God. Or every time I am tempted to put my hope in possessions, pleasure or relationships...every time I am tempted to prove myself through my perfectionism, I turn to the 4G's."
The 4G's are the highlight Tim Chester's book. They are so good, I have to pass them along.
1. God is Great...so we don't have to be in control.
2. God is Glorious....so we don't have to fear others.
3. God is Good...so we don't have to look to ourselves.
4. God is Gracious....so we don't have to prove ourselves.

Every single sin begins with believing a Lie. I love how the kids' Jesus StoryBook Bible explains the origin of the fall. It all began with a lie and we still are suckers for it today...

As soon as the snake saw his chance, he slithered silently up to Eve. "Does God really love you?" the serpent whispered. "If he does, why won't he let you eat the nice, delicious, juicy fruit? Poor you, perhaps God doesn't want you to be happy."
The snake's words hissed into her ears and sunk down deep in her heart, like poison.....
Eve picked the fruit and ate some. And Adam ate some, too.
And a terrible lie came into the world. It would never leave. It would live on in every human heart, whispering to every one of God's children: "God doesn't love me."
*************************************

How true this is for me! I sin, because I believe my happiness can be found elsewhere instead of running to the cross. I worry, because I don't trust His goodness, His character and His Sovereignty. And I fall into despair because I doubt He really loves me and believe the lie that I am an orphan instead of a child of the King. So much grief could be avoided if I will learn to recognize the voice of the lie and turn to the truth of the Gospel.....What a great weapon these 4G's are for me...If only my pregnancy brain can retain them:)

I am thankful for the wisdom gleaned from Jean @inallhonesty. Check it out!

That's My King

This is a clip from a sermon from the great late Pastor S.M. Lockridge. My dad showed it to me many years ago and this one has been updated to include scenes from Mel Gibson's movie The Passion of the Christ. The words and character of God are so powerful....truths I seem to forget so easily. This past Sunday, our Pastor challenged us with the thought or reminder that we are always always in the realm of the Spiritual supernatural only our eyes are too dull to see it. He sighted the scripture from 2 Kings 6 when Elisha was surrounded by a vast army of war horses and chariots from the king of Syria. Naturally, Elisha's people were afraid at what seemed to be their impending destruction. Elisha, however remained confident in the Lord's deliverance and urged them not to be afraid. Next, he prayed that the Lord would please open the eyes of his very worried servant that he may see. "So the Lord opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw, and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha."

The supernatural army of God armed and ready to do battle on behalf of God's children. I don't know why, but that struck me. I have thought alot about that this week and one of my prayers has been that I would see God's hand in the mundane. After all, if we are constantly dwelling in the realm of the Spirit world....could He...could He possibly be present in my daily toils? The laundry, the diapering, the retrieving of legos from air vents and crayons stuck to a sticky floor. What purpose could my day possibly have that would be big enough to evoke the presence of God Almighty? I don't know. But I do know I experienced Him today in worship through the reminder of who He is in this S.M. Lockridge sermonette. May you watch it and be blessed as well.

That's My King~

Heather

Still Re-forming.

The first week of school has come and gone and we have adopted a new schedule. More than ever, I feel the need to bring order into our little army...to bring some sort of structure to their days. With the baby coming and the reality that I'm drowning in laundry & housework and the fact that my children needing the satisfaction that comes from a job well done, we are hard at work around here! One of my mentors and one of the wisest women I know, always says:

"If you give your children more than they have the capacity to appreciate, you have done them a great disservice." ~Barbara Barker

[Mrs. Barker is a Godly woman who has 3 children and multiple grandchildren who know and walk closely with the Lord. I admire her so very much. Her father taught her this principle and she passed it on to a few of us who met with her for accountability. I have it written on a chalkboard in my kitchen as a constant reminder not to over-indulge them.] Well, I am guilty of over-indulging them and of underestimating their capacity. The result is not pretty. It may not reveal itself in the form of tantrum throwing brats in the store, but it does manifest itself in a "deserving mentality" way of thinking. When you shuck it all down...the root issue is the same. Therefore, we've had to re-form, make some changes around here and turn this train around.

I say all this as a reminder to myself that my goal at the end of the day isn't a clean house, perfect kids, and all laundry done and in its proper place. No. In the role God has placed me, my goal at the end of the day is to have been the best steward of my husband, my children and my house as I can possibly be. And mostly, I fail miserably at that every single day. I get it all wrong. My priorities get switched, goals go unattained, and I end up frustrated and tired. I am short-changing my husband and I am missing it with my kids. I have been given these amazing, kind, funny, respectful and very loving kids. But I have blown it when it comes to teaching them work ethic and personal responsibility. I have nagged and barked at them about cleaning up-and doing "chores" and walked away exasperated- just baffled at why they don't listen and obey. But I can't blame them. Until now, mostly chores or helping around the house has been this nebulous theory that is never carried out or followed through consistently. So. Let me say it again. I have failed big time in this area and for a couple of reasons. One, neither my husband or I are naturally "structured" people. We like to go with the flow and will never turn down an opportunity that sounds more "fun". So we are not consistent and that is key with kids from what they tell me. Second, its so much easier to just do the task myself than take the time to train them...encouraging and guiding them throughout the day! When I do it, its guaranteed to be done quicker and neater. It's a pain to teach, prod, and correct. And last, I really think the biggest reason why nothing's worked for us yet is because we haven't had a plan. Finally, after doing the logical thing and seeking the Lord in prayer about how to best lead our family, I am thankful to say we have a plan!!!! So far, all 8 days of it have worked. Ha! I am seriously praying Prov. 16:3~"Commit your work to the Lord and your plans will be established." Truth be told, without supernatural intervention from the Spirit, this will flop tomorrow. But, for now, we are on a schedule and reaping benefits I never dreamed of. This is what our typical day (without ballet, gymnastics and soccer) looks like.

DAILY SCHEDULE

6:45-Wake up! Eat breakfast

7:00-Make beds. Brush teeth. Get dressed

7:40-Load up! Off to school

1:00- Snack. Homework. Chores.

****Quiet time (read.color.puzzles.craft)****

3:00-Outside time/ Creative play if weather is yuck

4:00-T.V./Wii

5:00-Get ready for supper

****JURISDICTIONS******

5:30ish-Supper and Family Devotion

6:30-Baths and Bedtime Stories

7:30-Prayer and Lights out

Along with each day, we have worked in a time for 3 distinct areas of work. The first is what we call their "responsibilities". These are the everyday expected jobs/activities they are required to do...the non-negotiables. Most of these involve hygiene and basic responsibilities. For example: making beds, brushing teeth, taking vitamins, bringing dirty clothes to laundry, making sure homework/snack/clothes are laid out for school next morning. The goal is to foster initiative and to teach them to take person responsibility.

The next area are their "chores". Each of them have a few age-appropriate jobs to do. Most of their chores do not have to be done daily, but more on an "as-needed" basis. They were decided corporately at a family meeting as we asked each of them what they thought they were good at when it came to helping around the house. (This got our youngest daughter very enthused.) Some examples of chores are; for Jeremiah-collecting trash and taking it out, watering plants, bringing in groceries. Ellie unloads dishwasher, keeps the art cabinet organized (a personal strength of hers) and entertains the baby while I cook. Saddler cleans bathroom sinks (her favorite), wipes off stools or chairs and helps to sort laundry.

The final thing and a surprise hit for us is what we call "Jurisdictions". I divided the house up into 3 major problem areas and each area is known as a jurisdiciton. Each child is assigned a different jurisdiction and they rotate daily. There is the Front Room (entry way and formal living/dining) If this is their designated area, they gather shoes that seem to land by the door, collect toys and random papers and vacuum all downstairs. (This sounds like alot but its the easiest of the jurisdictions....our floors are hardwoods and they like to use the central vac.) Next, there is the Den/Family Room. Here, jobs include gathering toys to the toy basket, making sure everyones stuff is laid out and ready for tomorrow (nothing more than a verbal reminder to each other-more for the sake of them getting used to looking out for each other) and making sure floor is clear and ready to be vacuumed. Last, there's the Playroom. This one is always a doozie as it seems to get demolished daily. But, they pick up toys, put away DVDs/Wii and pick up dress up clothes. With the jurisdictions, we set the rules right off the bat, that when you are assigned that "area", you own it. Whether you got that toy out or not, you pick it up....no matter if those are your shoes or not, put them in the designated spot, and it doesn't take nearly as long when you don't waste time complaining! This was the hardest to sell to them at first, but we've had a few surprise blessings. One, they are more aware of putting things up right away instead of stringing stuff all over the house. Two, they know it's pay now or pay later and what goes around, comes around...the whole Golden Rule principle. And third, it has fostered a sense of team work among them. It is precious to hear them encourage one another and be more thoughtful of their brother or sister. It has already happened where one jursidiciton may have nothing or very little to do and so they are encouraged to go "bless" someone else by pitching in and helping them. The kindness is reciprocated. It been a joy to reap the benefits. For example, today, no one had anything to really "do" because they'd done it little by little all throughout the day and they felt SO much Pride!!! Also, by sticking to this schedule, our family time has been so enriched. When "Dad" gets home, we are ready for playing and laughing and sharing because all work is done. It is so much more peaceful for all of us. Thank you, LORD!!!!

Does this sound nuts? -Yes. I laugh every time I walk by the refrigerator where it's all posted. What are the chances we'll stick to it, especially next week when we have 3 extra-curricular activities on 3 different days?-Ummm. Chances are r-e-a-l slim without the Lord's grace and intervention, but we will roll with it and adjust as the need arises. Has it been as blissful as it sounds?-H to the E to the "L" no! The first 3 days were brutal. But I stuck to my guns, prayed constantly for grace, gentle words, a calm demeanor, and to follow through with firm repercussions if they veered off course. And like I said, I am still amazed at how well it has gone. Children are so impressionable. They adapt easily...they are much more accepting and flexible than I am. SOOOOOOOOO, there you have it. Reformation. It's working for us. And not because I am smart enough to come up with this on my own, but because I believe the Lord was faithful to answer my desperate pleas for wisdom and help when it came to bringing order to our chaos. Tonight, I am tired, but thankful and ready for tomorrow.......................

Family Reform, part 1

Blame it on "nesting", call it a necessity in keeping the family ship afloat. But we are in the midst of a Reformation around here. I've had this crazy urge to plan. out. everything!!!! I am thankful for the desire as it has been an ongoing prayer that the Lord would give me wisdom, direction and order for this place, but this is beyond what I'd asked or imagined. Our evening meals are planned out from now to December. Ridiculous, huh. I am betting we will stick to this about 2 maybe 3 weeks max, but it sure sounds grand! So far, it's been sooo helpful to just have a plan. In my next post, I will share what we've come up with as far as a daily schedule and how we've divided chores. For tonight, here's what's for dinner this week!

Chicken spaghetti
Spinach and strawberry salad with Mandarin oranges and blue cheese
Banana Pudding

Chicken Stew with biscuits
Fresh fruit salad
(thanks, Courtney! This was so good, but whew, it wore me out. It's basically a chicken pot pie with homemade biscuits.)

Sloppy Joes
Baked beans and fresh veggies with ranch dip.
Grapes

Taco Soup w/blue tortillas and cheese
cookies

Blackened Chicken Alfredo
Asparagus
Garlic Bread

This has been a great money and time saver for our crew. All of these, with the exception of Barefoot Contessa's Chicken Stew w/biscuits were super fast and easy. I would LOVE to hear some favorite go-to's of your family and what works! Thanks!

High Heels and Milkers

I've said many times before that I feel like I go through my days in this funny paradigm I call the mommy dance. It consists of a two-part step of wanting to hold onto the precious days/times of my little people contrasted to wishing/hoping/praying for bedtime to HURRY UP! I am holding on with one hand and pushing them forward with the other. The time will go all to quickly...of that, I am painfully aware. In the meantime, I am poking through the day battling frustrations and impatience while snatching up sweet memories and pieces of hysterical conversations. One transpired tonight.
***Before I share it, let me give you some context. When I brought home our 3rd born, my oldest was three and the middle was 17 months. This made a breast pump a necessity. Upon the numerous questions, the best explanation Cord could give was that mom was busy "milking". (I know! So barbaric...as if I didn't feel enough like Bessie the cow.) HENCE, in my family, my girls came to refer to our female upper body parts as "milkers". Lovely, isn't it. Sorry-TMI.

Anyway. Tonight, Ellie was overheard sharing with Saddler that her "milkers" were getting bigger. (Yeah,right. She's the most petite 6yr old ever) Saddler encouraged the discovery by telling her they were soon gonna be like Mommy's. The next question caught me off guard:

"Momma. When am I gonna get a bra?" (what! I didn't even know she knew what one was, much less the name of it!)

"Well, when you get older and you need one, I guess."

"Like when I am in big school? Well, what about this teacher at my school. I don't think she gets to wear one because she doesn't have milkers even though she's grown up. I hope I'm not like that!"

"I'm sure she (insert name of teacher) wears one, Ellie, she's just very tiny and thin and maybe you don't see it. But. God has made your body beautiful and special and He will make it grow when it's time."

"Oh, so why do people wear bras who don't have milkers?"

"To protect a lady's chest and to be modest, I guess."

"I get it! Just like the air cushions that pop out of a car in a wreck, huh, momma?!"

"Sure. Now go to bed."

"Momma, answer one more question for me. When do I get to wear high heels? Not the sharp pointy ones like you have but "clip clops" with the strap like the 3rd graders have at church?"

"Oh, Ellie. You have the rest of your life to be a grown up and wear high heels and have milkers, but never again can you go back to being a little girl. Let's just enjoy being 6 for now. Can we read a bedtime story....?"

High heels and milkers today, no telling what it will be tomorrow. Slow down, clock! Let me enjoy them while I can!!!

Road Trips and Reality

The last days of summer have officially drawn to a close around here. I don't know where the time went...besides the fact I slept walked?? through most of it in a queasy pregnancy stupor. For the last "Hoo-rah", we took quick trip to Atlanta to celebrate Ellie turning 6. For her birthday, she got to choose between a party or going to the American Girl Store in Atlanta. Obviously, she chose the latter. What started out as a girls trip ended up as a family event. Cord, Jeremiah and Judson endured 3 painful hours in that place. Bless their hearts. In all seriousness, it was magical. We had the whole experience...dinner reservations in the Bistro, (complete with chairs for the dolls and pink muffins) a much needed trip to the "salon" (seriously, after the lice outbreak last year I nearly burnt those dolls up in the dryer....i also "treated" the doll hair JUST IN CASE...needless to say, it was money well-spent) and finally, an overnight stay in a hotel geared for American Girl visitors. Sounds fun, huh? It was-like I said-magical for a moment! Their little faces were priceless, their hearts-so appreciative, and their imaginations were in overdrive. We explored every inch of Northpoint mall, rode the carousel and played in the playground until we couldn't possibly play anymore. Then it was off to the hotel for the "icing on the cake" to the whole trip. The Marriott Residence inn has a package boasting of pink decor, special beds for the dolls and even cookies and milk at bedtime for all. We could hardly wait. I had arranged ahead of time for a 2 bedroom suite-adjoining rooms-we did have 4 small children in tow. Just to be safe, I didn't make reservations via Internet, but called the 1-800 number instead so I could speak to a real person and be able to rest assured all of my questions were answered and plans executed. It was just a perfect trip-even Jud did good.....until.

!!!!!!AHEM. Attention. Beware. Proceed with Caution!!!!!!

I heard something like this;"I'm sorry, mam. What did you say your name was? Can you spell that for me. Hmmm. Could your reservation be under any other name? Well. I see. OK. Well, we don't have record of your reservation and we are completely booked. I'm sorry."

"Excuse me?" (please tell me this is a cute little joke for the weary pregnant lady with all the kids) "I don't think I heard you right....I made reservations In Advance over the phone with a Live Person...and, I even gave him my credit card number to hold the room."

I could feel the panic welling up! And yep. It happened. I cried out of frustration and desperation. I proceeded to tell the poor clerk how far we'd driven, that we'd just spent 6 hours at a mall with 3 kids and a toddler and now we are exhausted and ready to crash and have no place to lay our head in the city. She felt really sorry for me. Or thought I might lose it and jump over the counter at any given minute. Thankfully, she made some phone calls and sent us several miles down the road to a step above a roach motel. Being the germaphobe I am, the large Lysol that stays in my car, was emptied in the room....all areas disinfected and the kids thought they were at the Ritz Carlton.

It worked out, but not as planned. (And to the donkey who has my credit card number and didn't do your job...I am praying my heart won't wish bad things for you! OHHH, I hate being taken advantage of.)

All in all, it was a great trip. The store was delightful, the mall was entertaining, and the hotel was fun for the kids. However just the time being together was worth every penny spent and inconvenience tolerated. Our kids had our hearts, our attention and our energy UNDIVIDED for 24 hours and that is a gift no money can buy. Unfortunately, it is extremly rare for them. I am so thankful for the time together and for the laughs along the way. I'll close with my top 3 favorite quotes.

1. Upon entering Atlanta, we passed the MARTA train station. The children thought it was 6 flags and begged to ride it.....we should really get them out more.

2. In the Disney store there was a giant stuffed "Dumbo" elephant. I pointed it out to Saddler who tilted her little head and in a very perplexed tone said, "HUH. And all this time I thought Gumbo was a food...."

3. On the way out we had to stop at a toll road. Peppered with questions about why all the cars stopped, why do you have to pay, etc., the best answer I could come up with was that in Georgia, you have to pay to drive down certain roads. Ellie replied so abruptly, "Well. That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" Well said. Well said.

What a blessing to be a mom...to have the opportunity to shape hearts and minds. I adore my family. I am blessed beyond measure and unworthy of every gift.......

We have a big week ahead! School begins! I'm sure there will be stories to tell....Until then, I'm counting my blessings~

Daily questions and comments

We've had a lot of funny comments lately about our expanding family. Most come from strangers in the grocery store or other public locations who laugh in pity as I parade our crew from one errand to another. A few weeks ago the car was due to be serviced. The sweet man at the Toyota dealership took a glance in the van at the empty car seats wondering where everyone was. (Apparently its quite a commotion to watch us change out 4 kids, car seats, bags, sippy cups and get settled into another car while the "grey goose" is serviced)He took one look at my belly and hollered-yes hollered-he's an older gentleman from Alabama-"WEll gaaahhh-leeee! You got another'n commin?!"


Here are some of my favorite questions and comments. I kid you not, I get a least one of these daily.


1.) Are you Catholic? Because my mother/sister/uncle/friend is and they have a whole lot of kids like you.


2.) Are you Mormon or something? (To both of these I respond-no. Just crazy christian. Presbyterian, to be exact.)



3.)Honey! Don't you know how that happens???



4.)And my personal favorite..."Are they ALL yours?" As if Anyone in their right mind would want to take extra kids to wal-mart just for the heck of it!

S.O.S.

OK, all my expert blogging friends. I really need help. What do I have to do to get my pictures to go where I want them and in the right direction? My mom is getting a cramp in her neck from always having to contort herself to see my sideways photos. And. Why in the world does it do it's own format thing??? Like leave all this blank space? H-E-L-P! Someone tutor me here before I embarrass myself further, lose my mind, or have to see my mother in a neck brace. Thanks a million:)