The Matching Game... for Moms

Sometimes I feel like I'm playing "Matching." Only in real life. You remember the game where you flip two cards face up at a time within neatly laid rows of face down cards and try to match the cards with their doubles by remembering where each previous card you've flipped lies?

Well with me it goes like this. While taking the laundry upstairs, out of the corner of my eye I spy, under the upstairs couch, the DVD case to the "Elijah" video that we've been missing.
(Good Elijah video for kids by the way. Especially if you like opera. You can find it here or here.)

I don't have time out pull the case out at that precise moment so I move on.

Later, while cleaning my bedroom, I see the Elijah DVD that belongs to said case on the stack of books on the changing table.  The matching game begins. "Oooh! Now where did I see that case? I know. I know. It's on the tip of my brain." I mentally re-track, but to no avail. There's been too much water under the bridge since then. Too much other stuff too.

No match. Try flipping again on the next upstairs laundry haul.

It goes the same with shoes. Oh, there's my daughter's right sandal. Can't grab it now cause I have too many dishes in my hand, and of course, every available child to which I could hand over this sandal recovery mission has suddenly vanished from the room. So I tell myself, remember, it's under the side table in the living room.
Days later, I find the left sandal, in the garage.  But the memory of where the right was spotted or has been moved to since is forever beyond my reach.

Thus it goes.
So you see, moms get to play fun games too.

The Oxen are In

I am no stranger to household messes.  My husband and I had our first five babies in six years. Lots of messes there. Then we continued on, to have six more babies.   Five children plus six more children equals eleven, which equals mess after mess, and messes on top of messes!  Our oldest was 21 when our youngest was born, so even when we had older children that weren't still making messes, we also always had younger children that were. I remember sometimes, back then, I would think of  Proverbs 14:4 (Where no oxen are, the crib is clean, but much increase is by the strength of the ox) and I would comfort myself those words.  Not that our children were oxen, or our house  a barn.  But somehow I drew comfort from the fact that all my hard work wouldn't be in vain. Someday much increase would come through those little mess makers. So when this title caught my eye, on the Femina blog, I had to smile. I knew what it would be about.  The Oxen Are In.  Read it here on the Femina blog.

                                                                He looks innocent enough.

                                             

My Bold Assertion for the Day

Stress and strife and un-forgiveness are worse for your body and your home than food not made from scratch.

So while I'm on a roll learning how to create a more healthy lifestyle for my husband and children, there's always this as the bigger picture: that man does not live by bread alone (Matthew 4:4) and that it is not what goes into a man's mouth that defiles him, but what comes out of his mouth (Matthew 15:11). 

We live on the mercy of God. Our lives, temporally and eternally, are staked on Him alone.
And in that we can rest and enjoy the life we are living and the food we are making, or not, this day. 

Swamped By Soaking

So.
Between the laundry thing and the whole foods from scratch thing,
I'm swamped.

So are all my counter tops.

Just when I thought I was being a super awesome healthy mom (and so proud of my tired self ;) for grinding all my flour fresh for all my bread items for the past few months, I get the memo that soaking your grains first is actually needed for the break down of the phytic acid in the grains that inhibit enzymes needed for digestion and vitamin and mineral absorption and all that good stuff.

Yeah, who knew?
Well, I guess all kinds of people do, all over the world! And many others used to know.
But for the majority of modern Americans, like me, a vast knowledge of healthy ways of eating, cooking, baking, and living was lost in generational translation somewhere along the line. But never fear! We can recover it, slowly, steadily, and happily.

I'm just beginning to learn about sprouting grains and nuts, and even some legumes.  And then there's fermenting! Worlds within worlds, I'm telling you.

So on my counter and stove top at this moment I've got black beans soaking (for the next day or two, breaking down the sugars in them that cause gas and bloating and give beans a bad name) to be cooked all day for dinner Thursday night.

I've got the starter and the sponge for some whole wheat bread that's been soaking since yesterday that I'm going to bake pretty quick here.

I mean, when the laundry's done.

Or maybe not.

And last but not least I've got nuts soaking for my grainless granola (which I will be hopefully posting soon on my food blog).  You'll like it.  I promise!  (Ok, I don't promise.)

A whole lot of soaking going on.

Now off to the laundry room.  Cheers!

Just Because I Love "Bed and Board"

"What can be said of [mothers] is that while they do fulfill their functions, they are increasingly 

tempted to do so for the wrong reason.  They are led, subtly but surely, to look on the mothering they 

do as a mere necessity - even a penance - and they live as if they were reserving their real enthusiasm for something else, usually unspecified.   They list themselves apologetically as "only a mother"; and they accumulate endless labor-saving devices, in order to conserve themselves for some other or better role than motherhood.  The labor-saving devices, of course, are a trap.  More often than not,  they simply make more work; and what time they do save is usually devoured by the car and the TV.   But occasionally the other role does materialize.  

Women go to work: sometimes simply to find fulfillment, sometimes on the basis of necessity:

but often only to get more money to buy more devices to spare themselves for more work.  

Yet in few cases do they work at anything worth saving themselves for.  They plow through their motherly functions every day - most of them do fabulously well; they area remarkable breed - 

but then they escape for fulfillment to some bit of ten-to-four clerking or six-to-twelve piecework 

that is less fulfilling than making instant chocolate pudding.  The really dreadful part of it all the wear and tear; for by definition, and by choice, they are not substituting one function for another, but acting two roles on the strength of only one small heart.  It's beginning to sound like one of the usual pleas to send women back to Kinder, Kuche, and Kirche.   But not quite.  There is a principle.

A man playing "Life with Father" at his own table is ludicrous: a woman kneading bread is still lovely.  In the case of motherhood there is a great deal to be said for trying on the old hats first.  

They might look funny, and it's a woman's right not to wear them; but she should at least try them on - and work them over for a while.  A few snips here and a bit of ribbon there, and some of them can be as stunning as ever.

Don't burn the kneading trough yet... remember you are a landmark.  You are and remain the bodily link with our origin.  You are the oldest thing in the world; don't be in a hurry to forget any of your history.

You are not only a link with something.  You are the thing itself; and you are the sacrament, the instrument, by which we learn to love the things that are.  Your body is the first object any child of man ever wanted.  Therefore dispose yourself to be loved, to be wanted, to be available.  Be there for them with a vengeance. Be a gracious, bending woman. 

Incline your ear, your heart, your hands to them. Be found warm and comfortable, and disposed
to affection. Be ready to be done by and to welcome their casual effusions with something better than preoccupation and indifference.   It isn't a matter of how much time; only how much intensity."

From Bed and Board, by Robert Farrar Capon

You are JUST a mother!

I stumbled upon this article the other day, and wanted to share it.  It reminds me of G.K. Chesterton's quotes about mothering.

“You’re a stay-at-home mom? What do you DO all day?”

... "Yes, my wife is JUST a mother. JUST. She JUST brings forth life into the universe, and she JUST shapes and molds and raises those lives. She JUST manages, directs and maintains the workings of the household, while caring for children who JUST rely on her for everything. She JUST teaches our twins how to be human beings, and, as they grow, she will JUST train them in all things, from morals, to manners, to the ABC’s, to hygiene, etc. She is JUST my spiritual foundation and the rock on which our family is built. She is JUST everything to everyone. And society would JUST fall apart at the seams if she, and her fellow moms, failed in any of the tasks I outlined.

Yes, she is just a mother. Which is sort of like looking at the sky and saying, “hey, it’s just the sun.”

If you'd like to read the rest, you can find it here:
You're a stay-at-home mom? What do you do all day?  by Matt Walsh

Thanks for Reminding Me

A kind friend forwarded this along to me,
with the heading "Just in case you're wondering what to do today..."

Young Housewife, Oil on canvas, by Alexey Tyranov(1801-1859)

Wikipedia:   "A housewife is a woman whose main occupation is running or managing the family's home—caring for and educating her children, cooking and storing food, buying goods the family needs in day to day life, cleaning and maintaining the home, making clothes for the family, etc... - Merriam Webster describes a housewife as a married woman who is in charge of her household. "

Proverbs 31:27 ~ She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness.

Diary Dust

Remember keeping a diary?  Well, maybe you weren't the type, but I was.  In ANOTHER LIFE!

Yeah, I have five full cute flowery books called "journals" written in a beautifully scripted hand, of all my thoughts, impressions, memories, and chronicled special events... from when I was single.  And after I was married? Well, there's about half of one cute flowery journal filled up with thoughts from the first few months.  And after that?  Well, then came babies, and I switched over to "baby books."  My firstborn, a son, has a beautiful old fashioned large hardback journal with entire pages written up on his first words, first teeth, first roll-over, first toy, first attempt at crawling, at walking, first tumble down the stairs, and even a cute little Ziploc bag with an adorable little lock of curly blond hair from his first haircut.  Oh, and taped in portraits of him at six months, nine months, a year, and eighteen months, taken at the local Sears portrait studio.  He was a pretty cute lad, I must say.  I know because I just found his "book" in a large bin of keepsakes while organizing my closet last week.

It was like finding a time capsule from another universe, another woman, who lived a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.

In this bin my second child has a baby book too, only without the lock of hair.  My third has maybe half a book filled out. No details, just facts.  My fourth has a book alright.  It's got his name on the cover... and not a single jot or tittle inside.  My two daughters after him? I didn't even try to fool myself.

Life has changed. I have changed. Or rather, God, by the simple yet complicated organic process of the changing needs and demands of this spread of growing children given to my husband and me, is changing me and my plans. 

My children receive love and care, just not in the same romantic way I used to dream of giving them, and tried to give them.  Certain romantic ideals are wonderful in their season, and what would life be without them, I ask you?  But God grows us up.  In his way. And I for one, am at the point where I've got to move with the seasons just to stay alive now.  Necessity has programmed my priorities into different avenues than they once were.  I didn't try to make changes.  They just happened to me.

Now, all you lovely mothers out there faithfully keeping baby books, don't get me wrong.  If I wasn't clutching for survival to accomplish the basics of cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, instructing, training, and forcing piano practice times in various stages to a range of six (going on seven) children, I could totally see myself up in my daughters' well dusted room carefully taping her last work of art into her fourth book... instead of secretly throwing it in the trash when she wasn't looking, only to realize that the trash is full and needs to be emptied, and that tomorrow's trash pick up day, and that my son better remember to take them to the road without my telling him this time, and while we're at it..... Oh, sorry.  I'm getting carried away.  See why I don't have time to write in the baby's book

Or at least get some kind of a decent blog post up on some kind of a regular basis right? 

Yeah, all I need is a housekeeper, a maid, a tutor, a governess, and a nurse, and I could do all the things I really want to do.  Right?

"Woman and Children," by Elizabeth Boott Duveneck

Wait a minute.  I am.
Doing what I really want to do.
Things have taken on different levels of importance in my life now, especially as I have learned, and am learning, to take in stride the losing of my time for some things and the re-diverting of it into other things, and by daily surrender to the revealed will of God in my day to day life, I can now have a different kind of diary.
I can just tell my children this, when they ask about their baby book (not that they even care) -

"You yourselves are [my] letter, written on [my] heart, known and read by everyone. You show that you are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts."

2 Corinthians 3: 2, 3 

Yeah, I think they'll like that even better.  So do I.

(Not to say that my reading through those 2 1/2 baby books last week wasn't fun. And precious. And it probably will be to the future wife of my son.  It's just, well, you know.  Sigh.)

Life Schedules Us

"After a few batches we embraced it, getting those little things done that never seemed to find their way into our schedule. Books were read, letters written, house tidied. All which felt just as much a part of the recipe as adding water and kneading dough."





My sister-in-law found and sent me a link to this video here (also where I got the quote above).

Fitted Sheets

For those of us who have been wondering...

Soft Scrub

It works great to get white tubs and things white again.

Here's my kitchen sink this morning with this past week's collection of scum, blackberry stain, and pot scrapes, etc:

Then I squirt some of this around the edges and over the spots:

I let it sit for a minute or two and then take a rag and spread it throughout the sink, scrubbing softly, and:

Within minutes my sink is white again.  It is a "soft scrub." It doesn't scrub off the enamel or dull the sink like a weekly scrub with a rougher agent like Comet would.

A Wise Saying

One of my friends once passed on to me something a wise woman had once told her,

"You don't wash the floor to keep it clean, 

you wash the floor to get it clean."

Now I know that sounds simple, but if you let the full implication of those words sink in, and then extend them to include the host of household duties you perform each day, you may find it extremely comforting.

Someone is going to drip Popsicle on the freshly scrubbed floor.  Someone is going to use the bathroom five minutes after it's been cleaned.  Someone is going to dump the basket of toys out on the newly vacuumed carpet.  Someone is going to rummage thoughtlessly through the just organized dresser drawer.  Someone is going to wear that newly ironed shirt.  Because people live here!  That's who it's all for!  Life is never going to hold still long enough for anything to remain in that sterile and glistening state that I strive to get it to every week! (Proverbs 14:4)

That doesn't mean I'm going to throw my Clorox Clean-Up out the window, but it means that I can look at my care for this home as an ongoing lifelong cycle.  It will never be "done." I will keep tending to it all, because that is the vocation I have been given as a wife, a mother, and a homemaker, to daily bring order out of chaos, to say "let there be light" in this kitchen each and every morning as I start all over again.

Spring Cleaning Tips

1. CLOGGED OR SLOW DRAINING SINKS
To fix a slow draining sink, take out the drain stopper or plug and remove any large debris.  Then generously  pour baking soda into the drain pipe.  Next pour vinegar into the drain.  Let the chemicals work until you can't hear any fizzing.  Then put the stopper back in, fill the sink and watch it drain quickly.


2. BATH TUBS (The ones that refuse to get clean.)

That's right, spray this wonderful oven cleaner on the tub or shower and let it sit for 10 minutes (USE BLUE CAN).  Then wipe away years of soap scum build up. 

3. DULL APPLIANCES
Use  spray foam glass cleaner to shine up your kitchen and laundry room appliances and give them that sparkling new feel.

Thank you to the women who shared these tricks with me (You know who you are ;-).

Feel free to share your spring cleaning tips or tricks in the comments.  We are all looking for better ways to take care of our households.

The wife is like the fire.

     "...There must be in every center of humanity one human being upon a larger plan: 

one who does not "give her best," but gives her all.

Our old analogy of the fire remains the most workable one.  The fire needs not blaze like electricity nor boil like boiling water: its point is that it blazes more than water and warms more than light.  

The wife is like the fire, or to put things in their proper proportion, the fire is like the wife.

Like the fire, the woman is expected to cook: not to excel in cooking, but to cook; to cook better than her husband who is earning the coke by lecturing on botany or breaking stones.

Like the fire, the woman is expected to tell tales to the children, not original and artistic tales but tales - better tales than would probably be told by a first class cook....

Woman must be a cook, but not a competitive cook; a school mistress, but not a competitive school mistress; a house decorator, but not a competitive house decorator; a dress maker, but not a competitive dress maker.  She should not have one trade but many hobbies; she, unlike the man, may develop all her second bests....

Women were not kept at home in order to keep them narrow;

on the contrary, they were kept at home in order to keep them broad."

from The Emancipation of Domesticity, What's Wrong With the World, by G. K. Chesterton

By the Hearth, by Platt Powell Ryder

(You gotta love that last line!)

The Weaving of a Story

"Why do I have to make my bed every morning if I'm just going to sleep in it again tonight?"

I'm sure every mother has been asked that question at one time or another, and perhaps even felt a fluctuating doubt of her own as she answered.  The child certainly must be told some sort of solid answer to this question, but even more importantly, the mother must have a solid answer for herself.  Because without it, the subtle "what a waste," and "who really cares about any of this?" and "what's the use?" implied in that question have the potential to cause major upheaval in the domestic value system of her heart and in her home.  I realized this when my son asked me that question a while back. (His motives were anything but philosophical. Just laziness at its best. ;)  But I pondered it for a many days afterward.  The quick-shot answer I gave him on that rushed morning before school wasn't satisfactory.  I would like him to have a better one.

I believe Martin Luther's explanation of the fourth petition of The Lord's Prayer provides a much better answer than the one I gave that morning.  It's from "Give us this day our daily bread."

   
God gives daily bread, even without our prayer, also to all the wicked; 

but we pray in this petition that He would lead us to know it, 

                                           and to receive our daily bread with thanksgiving.

Luther goes on to say that "daily bread" includes everything that belongs to the supports and wants of the body. Then a bed is an example of something in that category. If we are to receive our daily bread with thanksgiving, acknowledging it as a gift from God, then caring for it is part of recognition of this.  After all, we pray each petition, not for God's sake, but that we would come to know it.  I think this is a great reason my children should make their beds each morning. They learn that no thing in their life is just there to be used, and simply disposed of at their convenience, but should be recognized as an undeserved gift and benefit, and therefore tended and cared for as such, for their own sake, and their neighbor's as well (especially if they share a room :).  I believe this is part of how they come to know it.


As for a mother, the answer seems to be much bigger, since it seems most of her daily work consists of things that will only get messed up again tomorrow.  Or five minutes from now.

So why?  And who really does care?  And what is the use?   I believe it's more than the thing in itself.

Something from a C. S. Lewis article I had read long long ago found its way back to the forefront of my thoughts lately on this subject.  After much searching I found it again in his article, On Stories, and I feel that it has a great correlation to the settling of this question from a mother's perspective: 

"It must be admitted that the art of Story as I see it is a very difficult one.  To be stories at all they must be series of events; but it must be understood that this series - the plot, as we call it - is only really a net whereby to catch something else.  The real theme may be, and perhaps usually is, something that has no sequence in it, something other than a process and something much more like a state or quality....

Shall I be thought whimsical if I suggest that this internal tension in the heart of every story between the theme and the plot constitutes its chief resemblance to life?....   In life and art both, as it seems to me, we are always trying to catch on our net of successive moments something that is not successive."

It's not just about making a bed for the thousandth time.  It's not just about making a dinner for the thousandth night.  It's not just about washing, drying, and folding the thousandth shirt that is only going to be soiled and wrinkled again.  It's about telling a Story.  It's about the daily string of these seemingly trivial successive events that becomes one more thread weaving a net, a home, a worldview, but more importantly, faith, trust and contentment in one's God given vocation that catches up and forms the people who are in this home.

When a husband puts on his carefully ironed shirt in the morning and comes home to the smell of a good meal at night, or when a boy walks into his room after school and faintly senses that something's different, not necessarily noticing that all the little mounds of dirty socks have magically disappeared, or that the dresser has been dusted, or that the closet has been organized, or that his bedspread has been tucked in neatly, but feeling a sense of welcoming, like a sweet smell suddenly filling his room and his being, that net has caught him for a second. It has told him a story.  Mom's been here.  Mom cares.  It is good when someone cares.

It happens in a thousand little ways, all stranding together, rendering value to life, in minutes.  By living in a house where things are cared for, because people are cared for, because this God-given realm of responsibility is cared for, fulfilled in daily trust and surrender to God's perfect will, a daughter learns that there's nothing out of the ordinary or wasteful in making beds every day, or ironing clothes over and over, or cutting up all those vegetables for just one meal, or taking the time to place everything on the platter nicely to be pleasing to the eye of the partakers.  It's more than a series of events.  It's a Story being lived out, being passed on to the next generation.  It's a story that our lives are to be poured out in service to our neighbor, just as Jesus poured the water over his disciples' feet and washed them.  He being Lord of all, emptied himself, took the form of a servant, and we are to do likewise.  When that net has caught you, your whole perspective on life changes.

"And whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, 

giving thanks to God the Father through Him."

Colossians 3:17

New Every Morning

Some encouraging excerpts from:  "Keeping House – The Litany of Every day Life" 

by Margret Kim Peterson.

• "God is the creator and has given  [us the] privilege of imitating and participating in God’s work as creator. 
•  God ... started with chaos and ended with a...beautiful universe.
• Housework is all about bringing order out of chaos. 
• That heap of damply repulsive clothes on the bathroom floor turns into stacks of neatly folded clean laundry in a matter of hours...
• A table piled high with junk mail, school papers, and forgotten socks turns into a table neatly set for a meal...
• A sack of potatoes ...turns into a dish of mashed potatoes ...
• Housework is never "done" in the same sense ... that God's providential involvement in the world is never done."

(End of excerpts)

To sum up: We keep house because we love our families. And we won't be all done today. We will wake up again tomorrow, and receive the gift of another day, and the privilege again, of honorable work to fill our hands.  We take care of our families, who love and appreciate us in return. 

True, some things are more fun to do than others. Making cookies may be more fun than cleaning toilets. But we still clean the toilet. And we don't fall into self pity over it.  We even make a game out of it, and it actually can be fun.  
After all, every person on earth has parts of their job that are unpleasant and would be avoided if possible. 

As homemakers, we are privileged to be servants of all, and Jesus tells us, "The greatest among you is the servant of all". He himself demonstrated, by subjecting himself to death on the cross  for our sins.

And, oh the wonderful fragrance in a home where being servant of all is being taught! You can smell it from way down the block!

Quote for the Day

  "What you do in your house is worth as much as if you did it up in heaven for our Lord God.  

We should accustom ourselves to think of our position and work as sacred and well pleasing to God,

not on the account of the position or work but on account of the Word and faith
                     from which the obedience and the work flow."                          

  Martin Luther

Learning the Balance

Our friend Carla sent this in.  She is recently widowed and has six children, two grandchildren, and countless nieces and nephews.

 "As I read your post about the laundry and God’s will, I was reminded of a poem by Ruth Hulbert Hamilton. I didn’t ever read the entire poem before today, but I found a wall plaque with the last stanza on it when I was a young mother, and it fit right in with my philosophies at the time, so I put it up in my house.

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow

But children grow up as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

    Now, I used it to justify NOT taking care of business as I ought, but that is not what I’m saying.  As a young mother (or any mother) we are constantly bombarded with thoughts that we are not doing enough.  If I’m scrubbing the floor, I should be rocking the baby or reading to the toddler.  If I’m playing legos or dolls with the toddler, I should be scrubbing the floor.  It never ends.  I just wanted to encourage all of you that, although it is very important to keep your home tidy, it is more important to be “home” for your children. 

     There is definitely an art to the balancing of daily chores and giving of yourself to your children. (If you ever get the act down, I’ll rent a circus tent and we’ll all pay admission to see how it’s done.)  Yes, God’s will is that you clean those clothes and vacuum up the dog hair, but it’s not only that.  As sinful humans, we gravitate toward the thing that pleases us. 

     If we enjoy housekeeping and really like things clean, we might tend to put off the toddler or the baby to “get it done.”  Then there are those of us who would rather play with the children all day and Daddy comes home to chaos.  Finally, there are those of us who have “projects.”  We want to get this little dress made for Susie (who would rather have Mom) or we want to get that scrapbook of the family vacation done (Children need to have pictures to remind them of the family outing, you know.) or “I just have one more email or post to finish.”  In the latter case, the chores don’t get done AND the children don’t get Mom.  So wherever we fall in the pit of deceitful hearts – and we probably have a good idea where that is (Your friends do, if you don’t.), our only hope is Christ. 

     Blogs like this help mothers who are not able to spend a lot of time on the phone at any given moment or attend a lot of meetings, but who can grab a moment to read a byte or two.  They help extend the mutual conversation of reproof and encouragement, edification and the renewed hope we all so desperately need on a daily basis.  So grab a byte to eat and ask God to help you in your daily balancing act.  My final encouragement would be to err on the side of more children and less housework if you have to choose.  Here’s the poem I wrote about it all.

There’s laundry and ironing and dishes then still

There’s sweeping and mopping and wiping up spills,

There’s folding and scrubbing and housekeeping ills

There’s food to prepare now my family to fill

More laundry, more ironing and making the bed

More sweeping and scrubbing and washing of heads

More folding and dusting and changing the beds

There’s nothing I’d rather be doing instead

But what about Johnny who’s playing upstairs

And what about Susie who needs loving care

And baby has been in that same bouncy chair

For nearly an hour while Mommy prepares

A sumptuous dinner and makes all things neat

She’s worked very hard now so go wipe your feet

As Johnny and Susie file back to the door

They wonder why Mommy’s no fun anymore.

So keep your house tidy and make all the beds

But children need loving and maybe instead

Of scrubbing that floor you could stop for a time

And read to your children or watch as they climb

The tree in the yard or they run “very fast”

Make time for the glue and the glitter at last

Make time for the dancing and dressing up fun

For children grow quickly so go hug your son

Take time for the cuddling and playing and such

For God in His mercy has given you much

To fill up your hands and I don’t mean with soap

Your children are treasures, now go give them hope.

                                                                                            Love,

                                                                                                 Carla

Want to be like God, Eve?

       "God is the creator and has given to humans the dignity and privilege of imitating 
       and thus participating in God's work as creator. When God created the heavens 
       and the earth, he started with chaos and ended with a finely differentiated and 
       beautiful universe....

        Housework is all about bringing order out of chaos. That heap of damply repulsive
       clothes on the bathroom floor turns into stacks of neatly folded clean laundry within 
       a matter of hours; a dining table piled high with junk mail, school papers, and 
       forgotten socks turns into a table neatly set for a meal; a sack of potatoes, 
       properly peeled, boiled, and seasoned, turns into a dish of mashed potatoes 
       that the indiviuals assembled around the table are happy to eat."   

             - from page 38 of Keeping House--the Litany of Everyday Life, by Margaret Peterson.

So Eve, if you really want to be like God you could start with the tasks at hand. 
Instead of getting yourself into trouble with all that "good and evil" knowledge, why not start bringing some order to that mound of dirty laundry!

Thanks again to "Cathy" for sending over this article.

p.s. Cathy happens to be my own mom. I know, some of us have all the luck :-)



Hmmm, I wonder what God's will is for me today?
(referring back to the "What should I do today?" post)






Where Mundane Touches Sacred

A wonderful lady emailed over a link to this article -

"I hold the laundry tight and inhale extra long and think about the love that is modeled when a woman washes the same clothes over and over, day in, day out—almost touching something sacred—this washing and consecrating of material things for a noble and good purpose. The renewal that comes from being clean. My heart aches for that washing too. Perhaps it’s a blessed thing, this daily rhythm of life. We love the grand scale, the best days, the shiny things. The bright newness of God’s blessed restoration.

But what about all those ordinary days?  Where is God then?

He always chooses the ordinary things to do his greatest work.

He chose bread to feed us. Water to wash us.   A baby to save us.

He is no despiser of the small days.

It is in them that we see the key to life.

Not in falling in love but in loving everyday, with clean socks and warm soup.

Not in that one blissful day of childbirth but in the birth of each day, one a time, where the daily routine teaches us to depend on our Father,  who has made no provision for tomorrow—but only today, in this daily bread.  Perhaps this thing I’ve come to dread— this daily drudgery— is in fact my greatest teacher, in disguise.

Teaching me to live in this moment. With these children. And this sacred work. It’s really all there is.

Today is the day of salvation."

You can find the rest of it here - Where Mundane Touches Sacred.

Thank you, Cathy!