The good stuff. . .

After seeing a rare and wonderful post on the Elisabeth Elliot Facebook page last week (we all know that SHE doesn't post these things, but it was a quote from a much loved book), I picked up "Keep a Quiet Heart" and began to read.  I don't know what made me do it, besides the quote, itself.  

"[Christ] is my model. This means a different set of ambitions, a different definition of happiness, a different standard of judgment altogether. Behavior will change, and very likely it will change enough to make me appear rather odd--but then my Master was thought very odd."

The oddness is something I know about. 

In my high school/college days (which were, of course, not the typical, since I was at home or 
working for all of them) I read everything EE wrote.  I heard her speak countless times, I've even had the privilege of knowing her personally.  But what has struck me as I have been re-reading this fabulous book (I highly recommend it!) is how deeply her writings (and others, I know) formed in me the basic truths of life.


Trust.


Submission.


Resting.


Serving.


Thankfulness.


In these days of blogging and Facebook and Twitter. . . online articles and magazines. . . Hunger Games and Karen Kingsbury (which I've read a lot of). . . 


THIS is what I miss.  


The kind of writing that feeds your SOUL.  That challenges your thoughts and requires a response.  "Will I?"  


Will I trust the Lord in my circumstances?


Will I submit to these trials. . . this husband. . . the LORD?


Will I REST in the Lord?


Will I serve others without thought for SELF?


Will I be thankful in ALL things?


These are basic, daily, LIFE struggles.  I know I have them.  I assume you to do, too, if you seek to follow Christ.  And going back to this old, favorite book. . . it's reminded me that I've missed this.


Good writing.


I know so many of you, my blogging friends, enjoy good writing, just as I do.


You won't find it, here. 


But I would encourage you to seek it out.  Go back to those classic Elisabeth Elliot books (and pray for her, along the way, as she struggles in the sunset years of her life).  Find GOOD literature and biographies to share with your kids.  Read "Evidence Not Seen" and "A Chance to Die" and with me, keep plugging away at "Bonhoffer" (even though I'm about six months into it and only 1/3 of the way through).  And let me just say. . . THAT book?  Makes me feel really stupid.  But WOW it's good!


Leave the "easy" on the table, for today, and read something that will challenge your heart and mind and cause you to trust the Lord in a deeper way.


And yes, I know that this humble blog isn't on the list.


But thanks for reading it, anyway.  For encouraging me by YOUR lives and YOUR trust in the Lord.  For letting me use this modern day forum to collect me thoughts and chronicle what goes on here at the troops, so I don't forget.


Because I forget a lot.  Like how much I love EE's writing!


Happy Wednesday!


And did I mention that we celebrated Son's (#4) TWELFTH birthday last night?  Yikes!  Time is a flyin', I tell you!

Stupid things people say: "What's One More?"

So after spending almost an entire week with only six kids (ha!), I have something to say about this.  I really try not to be easily annoyed.  But sometimes people are so SILLY!

"Yeah, I guess after three or four, it doesn't really matter.  What's one more?  You probably don't even notice they are there!"

I guess having two less bodies, two less mouths, two less sets of clothes to wash each day, two less showers of hot water, etc.  really made me think.

It DOES matter.

Each little (or big) person DOES make a difference.

It's why I have the utmost respect for my m-i-l who raised TEN children.  My s-i-l who still has SEVEN of her TWELVE children still living at home.   And another s-i-l with TEN.  I also have sisters-in-law with six kids (2), five kids, four kids (3), three kids (2), and two kids.

Yikes.  That's a lot of cousins.

I would have loved to have ten kids.  Or twelve.  Maybe not 19.  But I would have loved to have MORE.  But I am not silly enough to think that it wouldn't be that much different than my eight.

Here's the thing.  There is a big difference between one child and two children.  Or three.  Or four.  And it doesn't change being a BIG difference just because you have six or eight.

The problem with that "what's one more?" mentality is that these people look at my family as a "herd".  A group of kids.  Sweet little "stair-steps" in ages, but a UNIT of eight.

Sure, fixing a bit more food isn't a big deal.  Doing more laundry, even.  Adding bed and lockers and a bigger pantry is NOT the hard part about having eight kids.

The hard part is that they ARE NOT a "herd".

They are eight individuals.

And you know what?

The are all very different.

Yes, they eat the same meal together at night around our table.  Yes, I wash their laundry together and they can all use the same shampoo bottle in the shower.  There certainly are some ways in which once you are doing things, doing them for a bunch of kids isn't much different than doing them for a BIG bunch of kids.

But each one of them has a different personality.  Different likes and dislikes.  Different strengths and weaknesses.  Different temperaments, different mental abilities, different EVERYTHING.

Yes, we are a family.  We share a lot.  We enjoy things together.  But I try very hard to NOT parent with the assembly line approach (although I did it a lot when they were all so little!).  What works with one may or may not work with another (probably won't!).

I'm learning a lot as a mom of eight.  I'm learning to push them TOWARD their strengths instead of being so very concerned about their weaknesses.  I'm learning to relax more and ENJOY them more.  To laugh instead of getting frustrated.  To be consistent even when it's horribly inconvenient (because it's never convenient, is it?).

In spite of some similarities, we are all different.  Some are hard workers, some would rather read a book - well, they would ALL rather read a book, thankfully.  But some love to work in the flower beds, some love to bake, some love to clean or organize.  Some need time by themselves every now and then, others want to be in the middle of the chaos at all times.  Some are musically inclined, some aren't (don't ask!).  Some enjoy playing sports, some enjoy watching sports (you won't, however, get OUT of sports in this house - ha!).  Some naturally keep their stuff neat and organized and some need more help.  Some are out-going, some are more quiet.  Some are more reserved and some are fearless.

So while having your three or four or six kids hang out with us for the day WILL NOT bother me one bit - it's only because they aren't my responsibility to parent.  If it's about playing and snacks and laughing . . . I can handle 100 kids.

But when it comes to being accountable to GOD to teach, train, and most of all LOVE them without anger or impatience?

I'll stick with my eight.

I love them with all of my heart.  But sometimes eight feels like. . . well. . . a lot.

One more is just that. . . one more.  One more soul.  One more heart.  One more mind.  One more LIFE.

Not just one more little body to feed and clothe.

Which is precisely why I desperately need the leading of the Holy Spirit and the discernment of the Lord and God's perfect wisdom.  Every moment.  Every day.

Happy Monday!

Just to explain the bags under my eyes. . .

Had a great evening last night at the movie MONUMENTAL.  It was like hearing from old friends and visiting familiar places.  How blessed we are to KNOW our nation's heritage and be part of a school that is teaching this to the next generation.  So grateful.

But a movie in the "theratre" (as Little man calls it) on a school night is NOT business as usual for the troops.  It was way past bedtime when we got home and to bed and the giggles had already set in.  Well, in the girls' room, at least.  In the boys' room, it's always the munchies (time for granola bars, all around!).  We finally got the troops (minus our two oldest who left on Choir Tour in the afternoon) settled down and after a LONG, busy day.

I've been having trouble going to sleep, lately.  I'm not sure why.  It seems the minute I lie down on my pillow, my mind speeds into over-drive and it's all I can do to focus my thoughts enough to pray.  My mind bounces from the to-do list, to what is on the calendar for tomorrow, to sweet friends who are hurting, to various issues with each of our kids, to what the Lord is teaching me. . .

Sleep finally came about midnight.  I'm still proud of myself for not getting up and working - those late night hours can be SUCH a productive time, but I pay for it in the morning.

At 3AM, a LOUD ringing siren scared us out of sleep.  The house alarm is going off.  Fire?  Intruder?  Then I lifted my head to see Little Man, screaming, crying, running into the girls' room, with arms flailing.

Unbelievably, the Coach actually woke up - he's one SOUND sleeper - or maybe it was my elbow in his ribs. . . he bounded out of bed and ran down the hall, hesitating just long enough to debate whether to get Little Man out of the girls room first, or run across the house to the alarm key pad and disable the ear-splitting siren.

Such a dear, dear man is my Coach.  And if I hadn't been startled half-to-death with my heart beating out of my chest. . .  I probably would have laughed at the sight of  him. . . bounding down the hall . . .

At least it's funny, now.

In a matter of minutes, the whole thing was over.   Alarm silenced, Little Man tucked back in, the Coach and I in bed. . . having checked all of the doors and convinced ourselves that everything was OK.  Except for our racing hearts, anyway.

It's funny how wide awake we were.  And how we couldn't keep from wondering if Little Man HAD opened the door. . . or if something else triggered the alarm. . . our minds aren't very logical in the wee hours of the morning.  It didn't help that the Coach mentioned, as a side note, "I think we have a gas leak, somewhere, the garage smelled funny."  Thanks, Babe. . . that information will put me RIGHT to sleep.

Sleep finally came. . . about an hour and a half later.  Amid dreams of burglaries and fires and . . . yes, I even dreamed of a gas explosion.  Hence the bleary eyes and dark circles, this morning.

Of course, Son #4 came out dressed for school this morning, and said, "Yeah, Little Man opened the garage door last night.  I heard the alarm beeping, then when the siren went off, he started screaming."

Thanks, Buddy.  Thanks for just lying there.  And letting the alarm go off.  I appreciate it.

Let's just hope I can stay awake long enough to make it through this day and not do anything too terribly stupid.

The joys of parenting,  Lesson 101:  Beware of sleep-walkers.

I'm thinking a higher lock (that Little Man can't reach) on the garage door is in order.

Happy Wednesday!

"Right" doesn't mean "Easy" and "Hard" doesn't mean "Wrong". . .

Sometimes I find myself believing the lie that the only thing standing between the chaos we live in and a perfectly ordered life is . . . the method.

You know. . . if I could just get organized.
. . . if I could get those cabinets cleaned out.
. . . if we had matching dining rooms chairs or new sheets for the kids' beds.
. . . if I had more time.
. . . if I had more money.
. . . if I had more room.
. . . if I could find the perfect chore system.
. . . if I could learn to reward character more consistently.
. . . if I could discipline more effectively.

I could go on.

None of these things are wrong. Some of them need to happen and should be done. But I'm letting myself be deceived if I think "having it all together" will make life EASY.  And the fact that is't HARD does not mean we are doing something wrong.

As the Coach has been known to tell me. . . sometimes multiple times a day. . . We have eight kids.

Eight kids.

EIGHT.

No matter how many activities we limit.  No matter how organized I am (there's always room for improvement, of course!).  No matter how far ahead I plan (the plans always change).  No matter how consistent my discipline and well-behaved my kids are.

There's a lot going on at the troops.

This is a blessing.  The children are ALWAYS my blessings.  They force me to cut back and simplify and think about what really matters and where I should be investing my time (I'll give you a hint. . . it's not on Facebook!).

But sometimes I find myself dreaming of the ideal. . . instead of living in the moment.

I have to remind myself, again and again, that the house, the stuff, the level of cleanliness (ugh) is NOT what builds relationships with these kids that God has given the Coach and I.

Yes, we have to have systems, chores, plans, calendars. . . we would drown without them.

But they aren't the END.  They are simply the MEANS.  The means of giving us more TIME with each other. 

Time for sleepovers at the farm (even though it takes two van loads of clothes, shoes, and FOOD).
For birthdays (Little Mans' FIFTH!).
For movie nights (Chariots of Fire, this week).
For late night talks with teens (when I can't keep my eyes open).
For date nights with the Coach (even if it means changing out of my stretchy pants).
For big Sunday brunches around our LONG table (with the non-matching chairs and sagging middle).
For afternoons watching basketball (with piles of laundry all around).
For pick-up games on the back-yard court (knowing someone will get hurt).
For pushing kids in the swings on a beautiful Spring afternoon (while not thinking about my to-do list - ha!).
For reading to the littles (while hiding my yawns).
For singing songs and playing games (even when they ask for songs I don't know the words to and want to play "Sequence" ONE MORE TIME).

I want to learn to see all of the work of life as simply what it is.  Necessary.  But never-ending.  Needing to be done.  But never really finished.

In two years, I'll be packing my firstborn off to college.  Will it matter if the house was always perfect, the bathrooms always sparkling, the refrigerator always shining, the laundry always folded, his room always clean?  (If it does, I'm in BIG trouble!)

Or will I wish I'd taken more time just to BE with him.  Talk with him about life.  Laugh with him.  Pray with him.  Enjoy the blessing that he is.

And forget two years from now.  Tomorrow, I'm packing two off for their Choir Tour.  And then in May another off to "Creation Nation" camp.  And in June two off to Africa.  Then there will be volleyball camp and football camp.  Truth is, the leaving has already begun.  Little by little, my time with each of them is running out.

So I'm off the computer for today. . . I think Little Man and I have some "Thomas the Train" books to read.  Right after I finish vacuuming. . .


Happy Monday!

Spring Break at it's Finest . . .

No, there aren't ski slopes or sandy beaches out my back door.
No, we can't sleep in until 10 (ha!) or go out to eat for every meal.
No, this house doesn't have maid service (unless you count me) or mints on the pillows.
No, we weren't able to make our planned camping trip (because of the rain).

But yesterday morning, our first official day of Spring Break, I was pondering the wonders of what we DO have this week at the troops. . .

Sleeping in a little (the alarm did NOT go off at 6:00AM, at least).
Getting to have the Coach home WITH us.
Yummy breakfast with all of my troops (French toast and sticky syrup all around).
Coffee at the breakfast table with the Coach.
Finding the Coach and four kids reading their books.  All on the same couch.
Cousins coming to play.
Thunderstorms and torrential rain - one of my VERY favorite things!
Early afternoon matinees at the movie theatre with grandparents (and popcorn!).
Visiting at Grandmother's house.
Starting projects around the house.
Tacos for dinner (and grandparents, too!).
Lots of folded laundry.
Tucking the littles in all comfy and cozy with the rain falling outside.
Late bedtime after watching Rocky IV with the bigs.

And today?
Vehicles serviced (and a third driver to help with the shuffling).
Cloudy skies (and a little sunshine).
Errands, errands, and MORE errands
Games of Phase 10, Candyland, Go Fish, and LOTS of basketball.
Lots of "to do's" crossed off the never-ending list.
Leaves starting to appear on the trees in our yard and grass that is brilliantly green!
Successful heart surgery for one of my wonderful nephews - thank you, Jesus!
Dinner OUT with the troops (and the wonderful "ahhhhh" of realizing they CAN behave, CAN order politely, CAN say please and thank you, CAN share in conversation and laughter, CAN eat all of the food they ordered. . . and except for that little bit of "booth scooting" by the two youngest - they are quite a delightful bunch.).
Hospital visit with the recovering nephew.
Littles all tucked in safe and sound, once again.
"White Collar" with the bigs.

Our lives may not be "glamorous", but they are certainly blessed.  Tonight I'm praising the Lord for HIS goodness, HIS protection, HIS faithfulness.  He's giving our troops the blessing of precious memories, together.  The gift of RELATIONSHIPS with one another.

So maybe I was discouraged thinking how little "rest" this week would give us.  But maybe what we needed even more was TIME together. 

Yes, the food still needs to be cooked, the dishes done, the house cleaned, and the laundry washed.

But I'm so grateful we are all here together to enjoy it.  It's becoming more and more real to me that these days (of all eight at home, together) are numbered.  Have I mentioned that someone is turning FIVE this weekend?

And tomorrow?  The farm.  "Only one more sleep," Little Man reminded me as I tucked him in and kissed his head, tonight.  As if I needed to be reminded of the packing, groceries, the cleaning. . .

Ahhhhhh.  Never mind.  It's a blessed life, indeed!

Happy Spring Break!

"Come to Jesus Meetings". . . all around!

Around here when little people get out of order, when Mom and Dad let the little disobediences go for way too long, when attitudes struggle, and unkindness starts being way too common. . .

It's time for a "Come To Jesus Meeting".

Some of this, of course, has to do with disciplining, correcting, and consequences.  Some of it has to do with Holy Spirit conviction from the carefully applied Word of God.  And there's also just the stopping long enough to DO something about things we have been "too busy" to deal with.

Most of our older kids have made their own profession of faith.  They don't need MY conviction when something isn't "right" in their attitude, behavior, or relationships with others.  But they do need my help in recognizing and resolving things, sometimes.

Then there is the occasional disagreement between the Coach and I.  Both of us (OK.  Usually just me, but "both" sounds better) being stubborn and not admitting our fault.  Refusing to do the hard work of talking it out, asking forgiveness, and agreeing on a solution.  Marriage is hard work and sometimes I am too tired to want to make the effort.

That's when it's time for a "Come to Jesus Meeting" in our marriage.

Any house with 10 people living in close quarters (don't let my kids food you, our house isn't "small" - it just feels that way with all of us on two couches - talking, laughing, and doing homework at night), there are going to be issues.  Big one.  Small ones.  Ongoing ones (don't get me started. . .).  Funny ones.  Serious ones.  Issues.

But sometimes, everyone else is functioning pretty well. . . kids getting along. . . Coach being his usual grace-filled husband and daddy. . . house running as smoothly as is realistically possible. . .

And MOM is the problem.

(sigh)

Sometimes I just get in a "funk".  Doesn't feel like anything is right.  The kids annoy me, the Coach is gone too much, sleep is elusive. . .

So begins the downward spiral into discouragement and feelings of overall failure.

It happens.

And THAT is when it's time for a "Come to Jesus Meeting" of my very own.

Because when my focus is on my SELF my TIME my SLEEP my WANTS my NEEDS my eversobusy life.

Instead of the blessings of the Lord and HIS goodness to us.  Instead of finding joy in serving others.

It's easy to get off track.

The truth is. . . even when nothing else IS right (and not just in my head - ha!), I still have my Lord and Savior's love.  He still found me, saved me, continues to draw me to Himself.  In spite of it all.

So if you're feeling out of sorts, today?  Finding it hard to be grateful?  Wishing you were somewhere else doing something else with someone else?  Having a difficult time seeing anything GOOD in those around you?

Maybe it's time for "Come to Jesus Meeting" of your own.

Here is a good place to start. . .

Thankful Thursday

Every now and then (and more often as I get older), I have one of those weeks when my heart is burdened and heavy for all of the pain, hurt, sickness, loss, broken relationships, and heartache around me.  Although I have certainly been on the side of the one needing intercessory prayer (and still am!), it seems that more and more I am called on to pray for others.

I consider it a privilege.  And a responsibility.

And you know what?  It's changing me.  

Having desperate need pushes us to the throne of grace and KEEP US THERE.

Right where I need to be.

We aren't in that season of life, anymore, when everyone is a happy newlywed or welcoming sweet babies all of the time (well, WE welcomed them all of the time, anyway!).  Not that those seasons aren't FULL of prayer and desperate need.  They are.  But now those around me are dealing with much harder things.  Aging parents, wayward children, marriages that have become unbearable.

It could easily fill me with heaviness and discouragement.

And sometimes it does.

But the difference between seeing all of the need around me and letting it steal my joy - and being able to live with joy IN the midst of it?

Prayer.

And Thankfulness.

I have almost forgotten how to pray for long periods of time in QUIET.  Because life isn't quiet (at the troops) and prayer can't wait.  

I pray in the car, at meals, in the living room after a phone call, in bed at night, in the shower, while talking on the phone, while washing the dishes or folding the laundry.  Because I've learned at least one thing about prayer - or maybe about myself - when the Holy Spirit says THIS IS IMPORTANT, I stop right then and give it to Jesus.

Some needs might be forgotten, otherwise.  Some needs would be worried over if not given to the Lord right away.  And some needs. . . are lifted up over and over again all day long every day for. . . as long as it takes.

Prayer has been a hard thing for me in the past.  Not the praying, itself, but the resolution of why I should pray to a Sovereign God who is in control, anyway.  He doesn't need ME.  Or my prayers.

But He uses them.  

He uses them to change ME.  To smack me upside the head (so-to-speak) and remind me to BE THANKFUL.  He uses them to show me HOW to love others and serve others and intercede FOR others.  Prayer moves me beyond myself and helps me focus on my Sovereign Loving GOD.

I Thessalonians 5:17.  "Pray without ceasing."

I've never really thought about how that verse comes right after, "Rejoice evermore," and right before, "In everything give thanks."

Turns out, it's MUCH easier to "give thanks" when we are "praying without ceasing."  

And speaking of giving thanks. . . 

A short list since I've already been much too wordy this morning.

1.  RAIN (not so much the hail, but it's been tiny so far at our house) - an answer to many many prayers for our dry state.

2.  Fellowship with sweet friends over tacos on a Wednesday night.

3.  A repaired microwave that is scheduled to return this morning.  

4.  Clothes to wash and iron, today.  And children to wear them.

5.  Food to cook and bake.  It's a chocolate chip cookie kind of day, don't you think?

6.  Little Man to keep me company at home while it's cold and rainy outside.

7.  The treadmill.  I need to spend some time on it, today.

8.  The blessing of being a stay at home mom.  No more whining!

And now, it's time to get this day started.  Praying without ceasing, giving thanks in everything.

Oh.  And the rejoicing?  Answered prayer makes it easy to rejoice!  But even when He doesn't answer?  Or doesn't answer in the way we would have chosen?  We can rejoice in our salvation.  The best is yet to come!

And THAT is something to be thankful for!

Happy Thursday!