Dear Elijah: A heart like yours

Oh, boy!  You turned 9 this week.  Nine!  How can that be, Elijah?  I won't bore you here with the long, dramatic version of your birth that I regale you with every year.  You've started to roll your eyes at my dramatics.  {Is that something that happens when you are nine?}  I just wanted you to know something. 

You have a great heart!  I think the thing that cemented my suspicion was the first time I witnessed you give sacrificially.  Totally unprompted.  Someone had come to see Dad and had brought their son along to play at our home on 131st Street.  Before he left, he raced back to your room with a book you wanted him to have.  You presented it with a simple, "I want you to have this."

Your giving has not waned.  Once you started gathering money from various birthdays and holidays Dad started you on the road to tithing and saving.  10% was the minimum but you always gave the most to the tithing section.  Your little heart hurt for other children who are in need so you made a gift to Children's Hunger Fund. 

We celebrated your birthday on Wednesday.  There was not much pomp or circumstance about it but the money from relatives poured in.  On Sunday you had a grand plan to buy some Pokemon cards.  What you wanted would take most of your money.  During church you saw David and Mrs. Hill.  You've come to really like them and their desire to obey God by building a school in South Sudan.  Suddenly, during church you leaned over and said, "I want to give them some of my birthday money so they can help the people in Sudan."  I have to confess I had a hard time holding it together for the rest of the service.

I love your heart, buddy.  You have a heart like His.  A heart that cries for the orphan.  A heart that yearns to help and lift the spirits of the downcast.  You teach me a whole lot about loving people and about giving sacrificially. 

You are my sunshine and my joy.  I love you and am so proud of the man you are growing into.
With Joy,
Mom

A Glimpse at the List

2014 is the year of Gratitude for me.  I should have known that meant curve balls were coming and I would have to look extra hard some days to find the blessing.

300.  New babies:  Evelyn Marie

295.  Getting to know neighbors

310.  Micah clapping with pride or for randomness

244.  Morning dance parties

305.  Worship that brings tears

320. Falling leaves that blow into the neighbor's yard

240.  Daniel singing praise at church

And this.....

Daniel and his co-conspirator Caleb.  These two can giggle like nobody's business.  It warms my heart!

And her....

My Lydi Girlie!  Those eyes and her sweetness, a cure for all that ails me.

And don't forget...

Micah Mookie, Micah Man, Moomer, whatever you call him his smile calms frayed nerves.

 There are four other young men but they move too quickly for me to capture their joyful faces which I also count among my blessings.  One of them calls me Aunt Suzie.  One of them has a uniform that ensures he can sell popcorn to just about anybody.  Two of them entertain with hilarious magic and charm. 

Like Mom

I've been told I am like my mom twice.

The first time I took it as a compliment.  My mom was organized, efficient, a super multitasker, and loving.  That woman could make a list and get it done like nobody's business.  And at the end of the day, despite any butting of heads, I knew she loved me; she told me so.

The second time, I stopped in my tracks.  Maybe this was not a compliment after all.  My mom had trouble pushing past the dark.  She had an addictive personality.  She was rigid and needed things done her way and in her time.  {Someone I love calls that putting the process before the people.}  She yelled when she was angry or frustrated.  She hated asking for help or appearing weak.
 

The hard thing is I am like her.  I am rigid.  I love a list.  I have trouble with the dark.  I yell.  I ...

But the better thing is I have something she didn't.  I recognize my weakness but I'm not afraid to call out for help.  The help I seek is eternal.  I continually go back to the worn pages of Philippians and Joshua and the Psalms.  The help I seek is rooted in promises centuries old from one who has never broken a promise.

Being like Mom doesn't have to be a compliment or an attack.  But, for me, it has to be something I consider as I go to my Father seeking wisdom and growth; mercy and grace.

A few funnies

We are a non-stop comedy factory over here.  Most days I couldn't script the things these people say if I tried.

A snippet.

Around the dinner table one night, Elijah declared he was going to be a rancher (he's moved on from his desire to be a cook at IHOP).  John chimed in declaring he was going to be a farmer.  Not missing a beat, Daniel declared he was going to be a cower and ride cows in the garage.

John is not a fan of school.  Frankly, it cuts into his play time and that is not cool.  We had recently watched  a Percy Jackson movie that has the song "Highway to Hell" in it.  Well, walking down the hallway during open house what song should be darling blue eyed boy start belting out?  Yup, "Highway to Hell".  I tried not to laugh too much since the irony of choosing that song was lost on John.  I also let him know that song would probably be frowned upon in school.

During dinner one night we were eating something with beans.  John, upon taking a big bite, says, "This tastes like beans."  Well, that's good since it is beans!  He got a little offended that Chris and I were laughing at his expense so Chris tried to explain to him why it was funny but he still didn't think it was funny which made it all the more funny.

Temptation

Summer comes to an end in two days when the big boys go back to school.  It has been a challenge being a stay at home mom with four kiddos home this summer.  The big boys felt like they got gypped on fun since going to the pool or any other great adventure was met with a ,"Sorry, but that is more than Mom can handle."  The little boy and baby felt like they spent the summer getting in and out of the van & stroller as we shuttled around.

So, last week when the whining and complaining and crying hit their crescendo I was pretty sure psychiatric services were in my future.  Then, I got message from an old supervisor.  It was a job offer.

A job.  In the real world.  With adults.  And reading real books.  And teaching things I love.

I was tempted.  I reasoned.  I negotiated.  I pleaded with God to give me the green light to leave this hard job called motherhood behind for a few hours each day.

He didn't budge.

And then the still small voice revealed the real root.  It's not that I wanted to escape motherhood.  It's that I wanted to know I had done well.  To know that those who are out there remember little ol' me fondly.  I know that someday I might be able to go back.

So, I thank the Lord for today and try not to think too much about tomorrow.  I thank Him for the ways He shurs me up; for the encouragement He sends my way.  

And I resist temptation.