Hello again, Blogger

It is obvious that this journal of sorts has been long neglected . . . busy obviously. But maybe just because every time I "feel" like writing is at the end of a rough day. That seems like a "wrong" thing to post after a long absence. 

I guess you could call today "rough." It had its good times though too. I fell in love with my children over and over again throughout the day as we worked together. Charis is growing into that age that I think is going to be dub a favorite for me (at least for now until I experience all of the ages :-)). 

Zeke amazed me with how much he really did help today. Wow. And always willingly. Sometimes without me asking him to. I am grateful. He is seriously more help than the average ten year old. He sees a full garbage and tells me, "Mommy, this garbage full. Me empty it." Off he goes, collecting all the garbage, dumping them into the kitchen sack and putting the small cans back in all the rooms again. He pauses to clean out the bottom of any of them that are looking guncky yucky. As I finished lunch dishes, he brought over an empty bowl to me that had had food for Eden in it. I glanced over at Eden in her high chair, drinking down her smoothie (a contented little chub ;-)) and inquired, "Did you feed all of that to Eden bud?" "Yup" he replied. "Me big helper." Well, amen to that. 

I struggled with my own anxious thoughts all day. We were waiting to hear back about an offer we put in on a house. "The" house. :-) The one I let myself fall in love with. Silly me. ;-) The day ended with my husband working long after the little ones had been tucked in bed and news of our offer being rejected. It stung a little. Like my pride wanting to say, "No Lord . . . You got this one wrong. This place really would have been best for our family. I can tell you the hundred reasons why . . . " No, I would never pray those words but isn't that what my heart is saying when I fail to praise Him when He says, "no." I kissed my fruit trees, garden area, shop, pasture, woods, nice location, and little house goodbye reluctantly and refused to play the illogical "what if" game with myself. 

I had to speak the truth to myself again. Nothing but Christ satisfies. Nothing. Not a lifestyle. Not land. Not a house. Not children. Not a good husband. He is the strength of my life. He is my portion. Yes, more than exceedingly sufficient. Just Him. 

Mid day I was reading Luke 12 . . . the section that goes  "do not be anxious about your life; what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will put on. For life is more than food and the body more than clothing. Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse or barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his life span? If then you are not able to do a small a thing as that, why are you anxious about the rest? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil or spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is a live today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith!"

As I read, everything and everyone around me screamed for my attention . . . and yet I read. I probably shouldn't have . . . or maybe I should have because what kind of mom can I be anyway if my heart isn't right before the Lord? Charis was grunting frustrations as she tried to climb from inside her shopping cart onto my bed with a armful of books. Zeke was in the front room crying . . . I didn't know why. Eden was chewing on the backside of my pen, fussing off and on as I kept her an arms length from the computer I was reading it on. 

I finished reading, went up to see Zeke kneeling on the floor with his recent lego creation a little broken and him upset about not being able to fix it. The normal me would have at least given a gentle rebuke for crying instead of asking for help. But somehow I could relate a little more than normal. Crying over things not going our way. So toddler like. Yet, so like me really. We talked about how to fix it. He knew how . . . just couldn't get two little pieces together right. I told him that daddy really was right - he was a smart boy and really good with his legos. He worked a little harder. Got it put back together himself, sitting on my lap. Me soaking it in. Loving being with him. 

Looking forward to my husband coming through that door tonight. Just have that normal feeling of wanting to be with him but praying that I can be full of gladness for him instead of the ungratefulness I am feeling off and on. Thankfulness and joy are choices . . . ones that get easier to make over time. Failure to choose them doesn't feel like an option to me. "Bad grumpy days" don't seem like an option to me. I have too many little ones, looking to me for my smile and gladness to be their sunshine and motivation. I won't suck the life out of my little ones because I "feel" like dwelling on me for just a little longer . . . 

So there is the "rough" and long over due update. 

Pictures to come soon . . .