Photobucket

May 9, 2012

the kite

The Kite

My 10 year old daughter, Sarah, recently brought this creative writing assignment home from school:

“I am a kite.  The kite dances, flutters, dips and crashes.  I now know what it is like for God to keep me on track.  God is me when I fly a kite and I am the kite.  In my relationship with Him, I am flying all over.  When I crash He pushes me back up.  He fixes me when I need it.  I slack and pull.  He pulls me down and pushes me back up.  I am the kite and He holds the spool.”

Some neat insight, there, right?

Well, since that time we took a trip to the beach where we did a lot of things, including guess what… flying kites.

I got to thinking as I stood there and held that spool:

What if I stopped pulling against the Lord the way this kite is pulling against me holding this spool?

What if I stopped allowing the wind of the world blowing around me to pull me away from the Lord I love?

What if I responded to the Lord’s directions and pulls the way this kite is responding to me

What if…

I can’t even imagine what would happen if those things were true of me.  If I could truly trust the Lord and his full control over my life.  I can’t image the blessings that would come.  But I want it.

What about you?

Print this entry

TumblrStumbleUponDiggDeliciousFacebookTwitterPinterestShare

Crying with You

MP900178833

“When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul.” Psalm 94:19 (NIV)

Noah is in his light-blue, country French room crying, wailing really, as I sit right outside his wooden door on the floor crying silently with him. This is the third attempt at a nap today for my colicky son, who has fallen asleep once again while eating, but awoke in his bed immediately after being laid down.

I cried out to God, “Lord, I don’t know what I’m doing. Please show me how to be Noah’s mama.” As thick, hot tears coursed down my cheeks, I thought of the time we spent readying our home for this tiny child. Seven years of infertility–tears now are flowing in a mix of thankfulness and inadequacy, as I considered our answered prayer beyond the door, now angrily crying.

Releasing my breath in a rush, I walked back into Noah’s room.  His face is now streaked with tears–the inverted “v” on his forehead, as red as a tomato. Picking Noah up, I whispered, “Hush now, little one. Is it your tummy again? You need the rest and so does your Mommy. But I’m here now, Noah.  Let’s rock.”

Once again in so many days, I rocked my son, sang, prayed and bathed his thick, black-haired head with my tears. Soon he would settle and sleep. Slowly his eyes would fall heavy and his little, snuffle-snores would resound, as his sweaty brow would release the tension that began our time together.

Once again, I see my tension also has been released in these moments spent with tiny boy, who would one day call me, “Mama.” Yes, Lord, with Your help, I will give it a good name. Please show me how to be a good mother, Jesus.

Print this entry

TumblrStumbleUponDiggDeliciousFacebookTwitterPinterestShare

Family Favorites

12156342450591442848514

Our family is ALL about family night–we call it pizza pajama night.  When the holidays roll around, we spend days on end working puzzles, playing games and reading books aloud.  It is what we do!

Perhaps in your home, with your family or even in singleness, you find that these kinds of events never happen.  Well I can guarantee you, invite some from the youth group over or your neighbors or even a family at church. It is something that is well worth the few extra steps it takes to do it. Then just do it!

If you are of the mind that games, read-alouds and puzzles are things you despise, then I might question your joy-o-meter!  But I would suggest, too, that you give it another try and give the experience a NEW and FRESH place to grow.

There are few things that match what laughter and a bit of  shallowness can provide in the way of whole-health and wellness.  Oswald Chambers warns, “Beware of allowing yourself to think that the shallow concerns of life are not ordained of God; they are as much of God as the profound. To be shallow is not a sign of being wicked, nor is shallowness a sign that there are no deeps: the ocean has a shore. Our safeguard is in shallow things. Determinedly take no one serious but God.”

So do laughter.  Enjoy some shallow. It is life handed out to others and health and joy welling up in yourself. Stop taking yourself so seriously!

Here are my top picks for some great holiday family games, puzzles and reads (not an exhaustive list or I would exhaust you.).

GAMES

  1. Settlers of Catan (If you have more than four, get the expansion pack)
  2. UNO Spin (My family LOVES this game, though it is not my favorite.)
  3. Whodunit (Find it on Ebay.  It is a great game of logic and clues–more challenging than just regular Clue.)
  4. Monopoly (If you have a long time to play…)
  5. Farkle (Easy peasy dice game)
  6. Pictionary (We found one on the Wii that is really fun, too!)
  7. Sorry! (Simple for 5 and up)
  8. Cranium (Fun and lots of laughter)
  9. Apples to Apples (For older kids, but they LOVE it!)
  10. Sequence, Mexican Dominoes and Pit (Couldn’t decide which one, so added all games! Pit gets pretty loud, just to let you know.)

PUZZLES

  1. Times Square
  2. Night Before Christmas (Can You See What I see?)
  3. Trump’s General Store
  4. On the Porch
  5. A Joyful Celebration
  6. Moonlight Funning
  7. Sunday Evening Sleigh Ride (Holiday Hidden Messages)
  8. Keepsakes on Santa’s Desk
  9. No Room at the Inn
  10. Wet Your Whistle and Warm Your Toes

READ-ALOUDS

  1. The Hobbit J.R.R. Tolkien
  2. Chronicles of Narnia series C.S. Lewis
  3. The City of Ember Jeanne Duprau
  4. Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief Rick Riordan
  5. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz L Frank Baum
  6. Henry Higgins Beverly Cleary
  7. Trixie Belden #1: The Secret of the Mansion Julie Campbell
  8. Betsy Tacy Maud Hart Lovelace
  9. Anne of Green Gables Lucy Maud Montgomery
  10. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer Mark Twain

How about you?

Do you have any recommendations for games, puzzles and read-alouds that we should check out?

Print this entry

TumblrStumbleUponDiggDeliciousFacebookTwitterPinterestShare

Ebenezer Stone

100_1921

 

(Pictures: Family on Thanksgiving 2003 (Our fourth child, a baby girl, came along as our beautiful and joyous gift in 2006) and finally our Ebenezer stone (actually petrified wood, which is wood changed to stone, so it’s quartz-like) in our front yard moved all the way from East Texas to Colorado–a very heavy rock!



It was late November 2003 right before Thanksgiving. Tabor was only 4 1/2 months old, Noah, 5 and Kylie, 4. Chris began to have pains in his stomach. He went to the doctor twice before Thanksgiving to no avail.

Thanksgiving day, we are at Chris’ parents house and Chris is not eating. We should have taken him to the emergency room right then and there. No good southern boy misses his Mom’s best dish–Sweet Potato Casserole done-the-right-way. He didn’t eat at all that weekend. His stomach hurt. He took hot baths. Nothing would help. On Sunday, he began to run a fever at my parents’ house. I was very worried. I remember crying, “I think you’re going to die. You need to go to the doctor. What if it’s cancer or something?”

So on Monday morning, Chris took his truck to work. We lived 40 minutes away from his work and 45 from the hospital/ doctor’s office. He was going to get into the doctor’s office as soon as he could. On I-20, his truck broke down (pump module driver went out). His parents came and gave Chris their ’88 Suburban. Chris went to work. When he finally got in the doctor late that morning, they gave him something to drink and were running an MRI on him at 4 pm. So Chris slept in the bed of the Suburban. I got a call at 5:30 from Chris. They were keeping him through the night, but couldn’t tell him what was wrong, yet. Finally about 7 pm, I heard that Chris was having a laparoscopic appendectomy. No one was there with him.

At 10:30 pm, the doctor called. He began, “He’s not out of the woods, yet.”

I asked “Should I come up there?”

He said “Someone should be here!”

Oh my, I didn’t realize how very serious it was. Then came the doctor-talk. Basically, Chris’ appendix had been ruptured for 3-4 days and it had solidified (so the poison did not spread to his bloodstream).

They had opened Chris up immediately and took a part of his intestine, as well. His brother went up and stayed the night, since I had the kids asleep.

I drove to the hospital every day for 7 days, spent the day with Chris and then went home. The oldest two kids had preschool, and friends and family helped. Baby Tabor went with me to the hospital.

Chris looked at us and didn’t really care about anything. He really was not with us. I took him home and took care of him for the next month or so. Christmas was a blur, but I went and got a tree, bought new lights for it and decorated it. I took the kids to school and lived life in a blur.

January 12th rolled around. Chris went back to work! He was very slow with his “shark bite” incision healing, but numb. The following Sunday we did our blessing box with the kids. We had so much to be thankful for! Then we all went out and signed & dated our Ebenezer stone. We thanked God and said, “Thus far has the Lord helped us.”

The next Christmas rolled around. I began to remember the year before and then Chris said, “Where did those Christmas lights come from?” I began to cry. “You weren’t really with us last year, were you?” “I guess not,” he said.

God has been unbelievably gracious to us. I remember the prayer I prayed during that time, “Lord, I’m weak. YOU be strong.” I said it over and over again. I am thankful also for so many who prayed. Indeed, many stood in the gap for my Chris! God was strong. He IS and He will be.  Our HELP is He.

Print this entry

TumblrStumbleUponDiggDeliciousFacebookTwitterPinterestShare

When a Family Pet and Friend Dies

j0178537

My little family began the day that my husband and I got married in January 1996.  By June of that year we had purchased our first home.  And then on August 29th, our family grew when Mike brought home our first puppy in celebration of my birthday that year.

The ultimate mutt of a pound dog, she was the runt of her litter and all of her litter mates had chewed on her tail to the point that it had very little to no fur left on it.  Mike had great compassion on her and she became our Daisy.

Our family grew again on September 24th of that year when I brought home a tiny little dachshund puppy.  A red smooth miniature dachshund to be exact with the softest coat of fur, biggest puppy eyes and cutest floppy ears this side of the Rio Grande.  Her name was somewhat of a compromise as Mike really wanted to call her something along the lines of “Frankfurter” or “Oscar Mayer.”  As neither of those names were acceptable to me, we finally settled on Frankie.

Frankie, Daisy and I the night I brought Frankie home.

Fast forward 12 years, another puppy (Gus, a Welsh Corgi) and two kids later we had a full house.  Our two children have never known life without Daisy, Frankie and Gus.  They had not known what life would be like without any of these precious little creatures until May 6, 2008.

On that day, at just shy of 12 years old, Daisy finally succumbed to a several month ordeal which we are fairly certain was a cancer in her gastrointestinal tract which had metastasized and spread to her lungs.  Normally a 55-60 pound dog, she had lost so much weight that it was painful for us to see her like that.  There came a day when we just knew her fight was over.  As her owners we had to make a decision that day that we never wanted to make.  We had to end her fight for her.  Peacefully, quietly; she suffered no more.

Daisy

Nathan was young enough at the time, not quite 3 yet, that he just took it in stride that Daisy had died.  But Sarah was 7 and really took it hard.  I simply told her when she got home from school that day that Daisy had died at the vet’s office.  We sat on the couch in the living room and cried on each other’s shoulders for quite a while.  To this day she still keeps a picture of Daisy in her locker at school and we all talk about her often.

Then on Saturday September 10th, just a few short days ago, at the age of 15, our little dachshund, Frankie, died.  She had battled and taken medication for congestive heart failure since January.  We knew she wasn’t well on Saturday morning but then she just got progressively worse throughout the day until she had what we believe to have been a massive heart attack Saturday evening.  We all gathered around her as she lay in my husband’s lap and petted and loved on her.  Then, after I had left with the kids because of previous plans, she breathed her last there in his lap.  Yet again, peacefully, quietly; she suffered no more.

Frankie

I know that talking about a pet’s death doesn’t seem like an overly spiritual thing to talk about, but I believe there are lessons to learn if we allow ourselves to be open to them.

We have never been ones to shelter our children from death.  Dying is a part of living on this fallen planet.  While Sarah’s first experience with death was my grandmother (on my mom’s side), she was young and had not had the opportunity to be very close to my Nana.  Daisy’s death in 2008 was her first real experience with death hitting very close to home.  And this, with Frankie on Saturday was Nathan’s first real experience with death when he could process it and fully feel the emotion of it.

I have to tell you, I have never seen a 6 year old boy as sad in my life as Nathan was on Saturday.  We’d had a baseball game on the television and as we sat there and petted her he said, “I don’t want to watch TV right now.”  I asked him if he wanted me to turn it off and he said that he did.  It was like he felt the reverence of a life slipping away and knew that having a baseball game on in the midst of it was just not right.  He sat in my lap for a while and cried and then so did Sarah.

As hard as it is to lose a pet, I am so thankful that my kids have begun to learn how to grieve and to process the idea of death in the sheltered atmosphere of our little home in this way.  Because, you see, we have a loved one who is ill.  A loved one who is very close to us.  We have no idea how much longer he will be with us here on earth, but we do know that our time with him is so much shorter than we would have ever anticipated.  However, I know that when he does pass away that it won’t be my kids’ first encounter with death.  And as hard as it will be on our whole family, it will be just a little easier to know that my own children, even though they don’t know the full extent of the illness to this point, will have just a little bit more understanding of what is going on and will have a past experience to draw from.

It’s true that having pets while your children are young is such a training ground.  It teaches them how to care for another living being who is totally dependent on them.  It teaches them responsibility.  Having pets can help teach them kindness and gentleness.  But, unfortunately, and as much as it hurts, having that little furry creature in your home that wiggles its way into the fabric of your family and heart can also teach them about death.

Lord, I hope it’s true that all dogs go to heaven.  Please take care of my Daisy and my Frankie until I get there.  I know that Daisy can wake you up barking at night and Frankie seems like she’s always underfoot while you’re cooking dinner, but they really are good dogs.  And by the way, Lord, they both like their bellies to be rubbed.  Often.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

Print this entry

TumblrStumbleUponDiggDeliciousFacebookTwitterPinterestShare
This site is protected by WP-CopyRightPro