No More Work

It may not be very spiritual but this gave me a good laugh when a friend passed it on to me. (Thank you Shannon :) I sure spend a lot of energy "not working." What a grand adventure our lives are!

Poured From A Steady Hand

I miss the Concordian Sisters of Perpetual Parturition. One post in particular comes to my mind a lot.  Poured From A Steady Hand. You will surely be edified and inspired to thankfulness. It's a stunningly beautiful tribute to God's faithfulness and His generosity toward us.

Here's how it starts:

"The other day I sat and rocked my baby for an entire hour. My fifthborn--Can you imagine? I just sat and rocked him...." Then further in she says, "So I snuggled my nursling under a fleece blanket, and he settled, and sighed, and periodically shuddered in utter contentment." Then even further in she says, "And I thought, My Life is impossibly rich." 

     

Painting: Sweet Dreams by Firmin Baes (1874-1945, Belgian) 

My Pastor has continually over the years reminded us mothers to just sit and rock our babies and look at them. Enjoy them. Don't be too busy. 

And lately he's been asking, How rich are you? Don't be tricked into thinking about what you don't have and what God hasn't done (that you think He should have). Adam and Eve were given an entire garden full of trees--but what did they think about? The one tree they weren't given. Instead, think about all you've been given, and all that God has done for you. You are very, very rich. As one woman said, "All this, and Christ too!"

Here's a link to the complete post  Poured From a Steady Hand ,  on the CSPP blog. 

(Thank you, Concordian Sisters, and may the Lord bless you.)

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.

Children Are an Heritage of the LORD

"Lo, children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward.

As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth.

Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them: they shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate."     Psalm 127:3-5

Congratulations Ben & Mary,
on the birth of you wonderful daughter!

This Is It

As a young woman I would daydream from time to time of what my married life with children would be like someday.  I did not yet know who my husband would be or what my future children would look like, but vague visions of them occasionally filled my mind. I would see myself reading stories to happy children while we sat in a circle on a sunshine strewn living room floor, or perhaps, an adorable dirty cheeked little boy, a football set down on the chair beside him, reading his schoolbook aloud to me while I kneaded the bread for dinner, or maybe we'd be taking a walk together on a crisp autumn afternoon, or singing together at the piano, or even cleaning the house together. But there would be laughter, appreciation, discipline, joy, wonder, and love.

It seemed realistic. I'd witnessed bits and pieces of those things happening in families I admired.  I had good examples of Christian women, wives, and mothers around me. I knew they worked hard (although I could never have known then just how hard), yet they loved and were loved. I looked forward to being like my idea of them. My future life was like a distant rainbow, just on the other side of the meadow.  Sometime, in the years to come I would reach it, I hoped.

Fast Forward.

Now here I am, just having passed my seventeenth wedding anniversary, with seven children.

A few months ago I was doing what I do every morning after having sent the older children to school and finishing the continuously interrupted breakfast clean up.  I was giving my youngest three children (we'll just call them numbers 1, 2, and 3) their morning bath. It went something like this. Undress children, 1, 2, 3. Place children in tub, 1, 2, 3. Dump in toys. Wet down hair, 1, 2, 3. Wash hair, 1, 2, 3. Wash faces. Wash noses. Let's get on with it. Tell children to put toys back in bin.  Grab towels. Lift children out, 1, 2, 3. Dry....  and on as usual.

But this time, as I watched my children laughing and splashing, pouring cup into cup, and rolling out their washcloths with make believe rolling pins, it struck me.

This is it.
This is your life, your real married life, with your real children. Now.

That future life you imagined all those years ago? It's been here for a while now.  That rainbow you saw across the meadow of coming years? Those storytimes, bathtimes, laughtertimes, lovetimes? That's now. You're in it. You're under it. The sunshine and the rain that fall on you in so many ways each day that make that rainbow.  This moment with these innocent, lively, trusting children is the pot of gold.  If you don't see it now, you never will.  Because this is it.

So if you find yourself like I do at times, being driven forward through your day's routine and shuffling your children along in your strife to "get this done" so you can move onto the next thing and then "get that done" so you can move onto the next, then hopefully, by the grace of God, you can be stopped dead in your tracks. Dead enough to see those bright little eyes right in front of you, and gaze at them in wonder, and realize, "this is it." There's no next thing.  There's nothing better in this life than this.  This moment, this bathtime, is made for you and for them. This is, as they say, the stuff life is made of. It's to enjoy, not get through. These are sons and daughters of God growing up before your very eyes, unique and incomparable gifts, made in His image, and also miraculously procreatively made in the image of your husband, the man God has given you to care for in this life, and yourself.

Yes, there is suffering and there is joy. There is rain and there is sunshine. And when they come together in just the right way, then is made visible the seven vibrant colors that were in the light all along.  Sometimes we just don't see it... because we're in it.

Too Many Straws In My Milkshake-- Interview with Rachel Jankovic

 Rachel Jankovic  started using the phrase "too many straws in my milkshake"  as a description of feeling like you don't have anything left to give because it's early in the morning and you're already feeling sucked dry.

"At our house we always find it better to think it's funny: too many straws in my milkshake, became a saying for us, because it's a more cheerful way of looking at it than, I feel wasted right now..."

And if you've read this, you know her desire is to honor God and lean on Him through all the joys and trials of the vocation of motherhood.

She  warns about cleaning the house, but leaving the hearts cluttered, if your whole motive is to make sure that you look like the best mother/baker/cleaner/whatever.

I really like that she often says, "And I was talking with my husband about this, and he was helping me see..."

The above quotes are from these video clips. I really enjoyed listening to them while I was working in the kitchen. And great for busy moms: they're just little snippets, about six minutes long.

Motherhood & Work: Too Many Straws in My Milkshake
Cleaning House and Cleaning Hearts

The Vocation of Motherhood
The Conservative Tendency to Over-romanticize Motherhood
How to Instill Loyalty in Your Children

Article Recommended: "Frantic"

If you are looking for some live encouragement for your "motherhood in the trenches" moments, here is an article I encourage you to read.

 "Frantic"  by Rachel Jankovic

 Here's an excerpt -

"His path for us was not our path for us, but it was a path of mercy, and joy, and delight, and tears, and sweat, and growth beyond what we would have ever tried for. I often think of our children as one of God’s most amazing investment plans for our life. And because we are seeking to honor God, things get deducted automatically. We have signed up to give more than we ever, ever could have of our own strength. When you are up in the middle of the night, God is not letting your life go to waste. When you are up earlier than you ever should have been – God is telling you that He has a plan for this life of yours. If every moment of child care was voluntary – if you could put your kids’ needs on pause, or postpone that work for another month or two, we would all be doing it. We would want the DVR version of our children’s lives. Skip the commercials of potty training, and feeding them every hour, and the croup moments, and the snarls over toys, and the heaviness of worry. Skip morning sickness. We would skip all the things that refine us, because our flesh is weak. But God, in His merciful kindness, has more for us than our flesh would ever volunteer for.....


So continue to rely on Him. Live in joy. Believe His mercy. Know that your trials, lived in obedience, are yielding more profit and fruit in your life than anything else could, at least in part because investments from you are being taken against your will, and probably against your better judgment. You couldn’t be who God wants you to be without this. Your children would not be who God wants them to be without this, because this is what He has given you, and you are who He has given them. And when you know all these things, and you believe all these things, just hang on like crazy, and laugh."

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

On the Flipside

Then there's the other side of that last post about raising your older children, the awesome part, the part where you begin to see your children growing up into people, people with unique personalities and gifts, and you find yourself really enjoying their company (most of the time ;) and actually missing them when they're not around. Not to mention, they can team up and do the whole dinner clean up together!

And there are those moments, like when your sixteen year old son sitting beside you offers to give you a neck rub, and tells you something he heard in the sermon that you hadn't realized he had the depth to appreciate or understand and your heart inwardly leaps for joy; or when you're making apple pies with your fourteen year old daughter, one peeling and cutting the apples, the other making the crusts, and you are suddenly surprised by the fact that you are in the middle of a really interesting conversation with your own daughter, and laughing, and having a good time.  Who could have imagined this? And you get a tiny glimpse of the deep friendship, God willing and we live, and He grants, you will have with him and with her in the years to come.

Those times make you realize it's all worth it. The pain. The conflict. The battles. The nights of crying and praying like mad that God will win their hearts and give them a fear and a love for Himself of their own that will keep them through the difficult years to come.

And you smile when you think that, as far as your relationship with that "teenage" child goes, the best is yet to come.

More on Deadness

Speaking of being killed all the day long (at least Emily was), there's nothing that will do it like training older children.  That's my take on it this morning anyway. 

 

"Yea, for thy sake are we killed all the day long; we are counted as sheep for the slaughter," 

Psalm 44:22

 

True, training younger children can do it too, but it shifts into high gear around the teenage years it seems. And if you've got both? Little kids and big kids?? Forget it. Dead. 

Dead that is, if you are counting yourself as that sheep for the slaughter today, picking up the cross lying there, the one of loving your kids, bearing with and battling their attitudes, their arguing, laziness, ignorance, pushiness, sensitivity, ungratefulness, etc., all while nimbly avoiding the wooden stool your toddler is constantly moving around your feet, for one more day.

I mean think about this. You could just walk away. You could just say, you know what? forget it! I'm done telling you this for the two hundredth time. I'm done putting up with you, dealing with you, trying to do my job and drown your old Adam and being pulled down under by the neck with you, every single day. Done. Why should I suffer you anymore???

(That's why the children of this world are now saying "Done" before they even start.  They're not going to suffer for a child's sake. Nope. They ain't gonna be nobody's fool. Nobody's. They are their own. Their will be done. They have their reward.  Besides, who in their right unbaptized mind would sign up to be "killed all the day long?"  With Christ nowhere in the picture, I certainly wouldn't. But for His sake I am now a fool.)

Yes, as Christians, we have another story. We are not our own. We have been bought with a price. 

For Christ's sake, and by the grace of God, we will suffer the ones God gives us. Year, after month, after day.

 

So as to that young adult you're bringing up. Look at all the shortcomings, failings, and downright disobedience of that child, and take a step back, calm your soul, breathe, ask God to help you to be tenderhearted and forgiving to him or her, and confess your impatience, receive forgiveness one more time, remembering how Christ unceasingly loves and suffers with you, and then get back to work.  Some of the hardest work there is in this life.

When your teenager walks in the room calmly (*cough*) show him or her the toothpaste spot that's been sitting on the bathroom floor for a week, and instruct them once more to clean. it. up.  
And that goes for a lot of things.

Yes self. I'm talking to you. 

Let the slaughter begin. 

God's peace, fellow sheep.