Fragile. Handle with care.

Having a baby? No...I'm not. I am, however, getting one. A dear friend of mine has entrusted me with her baby for a few days every month. When I considered serving her in this way it felt like a no brainer. She's my friend, I enjoy having children in my home (especially babies) and she needed help. As soon as I told her that I would help I hung up the phone and was almost stricken with fear. What if something happens? What if he gets hurt, or sick or sad or...whatever crazy thing may happen while under my care? My friend didn't think she could have children, this little guy is a pretty big deal. I was scared to death! Then I heard this voice, "Ali, the other ones you keep aren't yours either." I may have blogged about this before, but it's on my mind now that I have his things here and we're ready for the morning.

How do I treat someone else's children? Am I more patient? More fun? More kind? Am I quick to listen to their very long stories out of kindness rather than duty? I forget very quickly that the children that I care for daily are not my "belongings." They have also been entrusted into my care for a short time. God has not given these children to me because I deserve them or because I asked for them. He gave them to me that I might rear them in the fear and admonition of the Lord. That maybe, just maybe they will live for Him. It's a huge task. Why don't I tremble with fear? Why don't I consider that their Father would expect me to parent them according to His rules. I'm not going to take this little guy and just do what I want or what I think is best. I'm going to do as his mother asks. She is the parent. Just as God is the parent of my children. His word goes...the buck stops with Him...Glory and Honor and Praise belong to Him.

I hope that as I struggle with all of His energy that works powerfully in me that I would not be a "good" parent, but rather a vessel that is poured out on a daily basis to love and serve the most amazing children I've ever known...remembering that not one of them belongs to me.

Hmmm

Lately the Lord has been revealing where the stench is coming from. You know how you wander around and every now and then you get a whiff of something? If you have little children you pick them up first and give them a sniff. When you don't smell anything there you give their pants a peek to see if you are missing something. Nope, not them. If you have bigger kids you check under beds and in the trash cans. Did they leave food in here (Yeah, I know they aren't supposed to be eating in their rooms)or old socks. Did they forget to throw their dirty clothes in the hamper? Did I wash the dirty clothes? You start sniffing your clothes, your hands. Where is that smell??? You tell your husband to take the trash out (Sorry, ladies, that ain't my job!!!) and still...what is that STANK??? I've been smelling it for a while and couldn't put my finger on it until finally I found it. I was reading the Word one day and all of a sudden I discovered where the stank was coming from...me.

I know that in Christ I am justified and forgiven and free. I know that I am being sanctified on a daily basis and that I will not be perfect until Jesus calls me home or comes and gets us all. However, I do go through seasons where the discipline is a bit more intense, a bit more necessary. The discovery...I am the Older Brother.

Now, that may not make any sense to you because I am not a boy and I am not entirely older than all of my siblings (most of them, though). The infamous Prodigal Son had a brother. He was older and he was good. He made the right decisions and he stayed and slaved for his father while his brother blew his inheritance doing all of the wrong things. When the "lost" brother came home the older brother was MAD! It was not fair that his brother would not be demoted to servant after the stunt he had pulled. I agree that it wasn't fair. I struggle with that...because I am the one who stayed. My friend loaned me a book by Timothy Keller (for those of you who know me it's TIM KELLER!!!). The title of the book is The Prodigal God. For those of you thinking that God is not lost or wayward, let me tell you what the word prodigal means. I was shocked: prodigal: 1.recklessly extravagant 2. having spent everything. This was a great book and this coupled with the excellent teaching that I receive on Sunday mornings I see what a wretch the older brother is. He was/is just as lost...only worse because he doesn't see his need for a Savior. He doesn't need one. Oh but I DO!!! I am in the very beginning stages of moving through this, but that's what I've been seeing and learning. It's pretty nasty...pretty stanky...pretty great that God would show this to me in order that I can repent and move forward. So that I can join Him at the feast. It's an excellent and quick read that I would highly recommend.

What else have I been doing? Flip-flopping. Do you ever do something that seems so radical but makes so much sense? I rarely do. I'm not radical and do not have a track record for doing things that make a great deal of sense. However, this I love. A couple of weeks ago Ella was whining (as usual) about being hungry and it was not even 2 hours after breakfast. I was so exhausted by her whining and moaning that I said, "I guess I'm going to have to make a big breakfast because I cannot do this another week!" Mike's response was, "Why don't you just make dinner." I thought, " I just might."

As soon as we got home I Googled it and found that someone has written a book about it and that it isn't that bad of an idea. In fact, it's a pretty good one. So, that Monday we started. We had spaghetti carbonara that first day. Ella's whining was substantially less and no one said they were hungry until the should have been, 12:15. It was great. I also loved know that dinner was already cooked, consumed, and cleaned up. So, we are still doing it. This is our third week and I LOVE it! I know that this won't work for most people, but let me tell you a few things that I love that you may help you out.
1.When the kids are the hungriest they are eating what is typically the best meal of the day.
2. Everyone wakes up and is eating at the same time. We get up at 7:00, Mike leaves for work at 7:30.
3. The whining is WAY down.
4. The dishes are finished by 9:00
5. By the end of the day the last thing I want to do is make a meal, so now I don't look forward to the evening with dread, but with delight because I am not in the kitchen.
6. Eating the meals backwards is supposed to help lose/maintain a healthy weight.
7. I don't feel like snacking because I am sufficiently full for the day.
8. I dont' feel like I need dessert when I've eaten breakfast for dinner. I eat yogurt with granola and raspberries, maybe some toast, grapefruit on some nights and that satisfies my sweet tooth.
9. I have to be prepared for my day, rising before the kids which has been something I've been wanting to do for a LONG TIME!
10. We don't go out to dinner (read waste money)because I have no problem fixing a light dinner. The excuse of "I just don't feel like it" is out the window.
11. In the evenings I am outside (or wherever my family is) because I don't have to make dinner.
12. I feel like I am ahead of my day by 8:00 and that is super helpful!!!

Those are just a few reasons for why this is working for us. It's not really as weird as you would think to eat "dinner" foods at breakfast. This morning we had lasagne, bread, and salad. We eat normal lunches and cereal, toast, yogurt, and fruit for dinner. So, it's been a neat experiment. The kids have not been fired up about it (mostly Anson) but we told him that he should build a bridge (and get on over it) because this was much better for our family for reasons that he may not understand.

So, now I have to review Anson's memory work before he tests for Memory Master tomorrow. Hooray!!! That's just a little of what has been going on here. Hope all is well wherever you are!!!

DISCLAIMER: I am not a nutrition expert. Please do not take this as advice for nutritional purposes. I'm just a Mom that needed to do something about a whiney 3 year old and this was the most logical solution.

That's Why!!!

This has been lingering in my brain for some time, and now that the house has fallen silent, I will attempt to get it out...a little something...

Ella is nuts. I struggle with how to relate to her, how to discipline her, how to talk to her. I love her crazy personality. She's hard. I feel like she is constantly getting hurt. Usually it's because she has either been impatient or she just plain doesn't trust me (or she just plain disobeys and gets hurt.) Lately I feel like it's ALL the time. I found myself saying the same thing over and over again, "Ella, that's why we don't __________." A few minutes later, "Why are you crying? Oh, Ella, that's why we don't _____________." Or "Stop, that's enough. If you would have listened to me you wouldn't have ___________." I finally realized what bitter words those were to my little 3 year old. Obviously she gets it at this point. When they bleed, they get it, right? I got it. I got how thankful I was that when I get hurt because I haven't trusted, or I've been impatient, or I have just plain disobeyed, the Lord doesn't say, "See, Ali, that's what happens when we don't wait until we're married." Or "Why are you crying? That's why we don't borrow money we can't pay back." Or "Stop, that's enough, I've answered you and I will not talk about this again."

I have surely received discipline from God. Discipline that I have needed, but it was so much more kind and gentle. It led me to repentance. It didn't embarrass me or shame me. It convicted me and changed me. So, I'm reconsidering my strategy for getting through to Ella. The, "See I told ya so!" Is just not cutting it. I suppose I'll have to pray for a little less me and a lot more Him!

Done...

Wow. There has been a lot going on in my little house. It looks like someone shook my house, turned it upside down, rolled it around, set it back up and shook it again. It's been NUTS. I told a friend today that I better get off the phone or we'd have to spend the night in a hotel! We've been spring cleaning, and that has made a mess. It's like you stir the pot and dirt and random pieces just surface. I don't mind the big things, it's once you get those put away all of the little "things." There is no word for them. They are just pieces and parts that are vital to something, but it just isn't together. Mercy. It's getting better, and I am pleased with the results, but it's been something. So, that's what has been going on. I just set the stage for this little message that my computer gave me that I said, "Yes and Amen" to. Here it is. This is probably a blogella...

I was searching for something today online. Now I can't even remember what it was. I found what I needed and at the bottom of the screen where it usually says, "Done" as in, "the page is fully loaded." It read, "Done, but with errors on page." That tickled me. I thought, "Yup, story of my life." I did it, but it didn't turn out the way I had anticipated. This whole cleaning thing. "Done, but with errors on the page." Everything. Everything. Everything. "Done, but a little screwy." I am one difficult person. I struggle with most everything. I'm a capable person, but sometimes I just think, "Why can't I get that right? It looked so pretty in my head." We bought our girls some new (Craigslist kind of new) furniture. I thought Julia would just love it and she did, until she had to put her clothes away. Then she said that she wanted the other stuff back. My heart sank. "Done, but your daughter doesn't love it." I was so sad. I don't want her to try to please me all the time, but I was disappointed by her disappointment. The laundry is washed and dried, but I would rather peruse the Internet and look at homeschool rooms than fold it, "Done, but only mostly." You know what, you wanna hear what keeps me whistling? Or at least keeps me from cussing? "My hope is built on nothing less, than Jesus blood and righteousness. I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus name. On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand." You know what Jesus said? He said, "It is finished." That's music to my ears. "Done." Done to perfection. Done to God's standard's. Done to set me free from the errors on my page.

Y'all sleep tight and when you start checking your list for all that has been finished I hope those words make you smile. Done. What's next? Live for Him. Done. (but with errors...Heaven help me!!!)

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly trust in Jesus’ Name.

When darkness seems to hide His lovely face,
I rest on His unchanging grace.
In every high and stormy gale,
My anchor holds within the veil.

On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand.

His oath, His covenant, His blood,
Support me in the whelming flood.
When all around my soul gives way,
He then is all my Hope and Stay.

On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand.

When He shall come with trumpet sound,
Oh may I then in Him be found.
Dressed in His righteousness alone,
Faultless to stand before the throne.

On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand.

Big Fat Ring

Many of you know I have girls. My girls laugh hard and cry hard! They love pretty things and all that glitters. I adore it. Yesterday we were driving around looking for some new furniture for the kids (can I say SPRING CLEANING!!!) and Julia asked me if I would like to wear her "beautiful" pink ring. I said sure and let her slip it on my finger as we headed into the store. I didn't really pay much attention to it until we were driving to the next store. As my hand turned the steering wheel it's lovely silver designs caught my eye and the pink was the perfect color against the silver. It really is a pretty ring! The SIZE of this thing is ridiculous! It's something you'd see on some Hollywood movie star. I had the funniest thought, "Wow, that makes my ring look pretty puny." WHAT!!! That's really not funny! Here is why:
My husband bought my ring for me as a complete surprise. He and his entire family picked it out and he would let no one else try it on until it was on my hand. I let my sister-in-law try it on when he wasn't looking! It's the perfect size for me. He is a P.E. teacher and did not have time (or money) to save. It was purchased out of God honoring love and a desire to have me on his arm (and nerves) for the rest of his natural life. It's real. It's mine. It's a symbol of the commitment of two folks to one another and God himself. It's NOT puny. Let's talk about ring #2...

It was purchased by my sister for Julia. It was $2.00. It is not real. It is too big. It was purchased for fun. It will be lost and found 400 times until the girls no longer care for it. It is disposable.

Hmmmm. Which is better? Mine of course! I did share this with my husband as soon as it hit me. I told him how ridiculous it was to even compare the two. One was fake and the other real. WHY WOULD I EVEN COMPARE??? Silly, I know, but I did it. I do it all the time. I did it last week when I was blog-surfing and found several ladies with a fancy blog with buttons and links and all sorts of fancy stuff. I have to call Kelli whenever I want to do anything "new and exciting" like add a picture! I'm not fancy. I'm just Ali. I just want to write, I don't want to design or maintain. Is that bad? Nope. It's not. It's silly is what it is. But, what about the deeper issues of comparison. When you see the outside of a marriage or a family and wish yours was like theirs. Careful, careful! What about yours? What about the real thing you are looking at? Everyone has a pretty face. We air our dirty laundry, sure, but if you think you know all my secrets you've got another thing coming! We all need Jesus. We all have fallen short of the glory of God. We ALL like sheep have wandered away. None of us are righteous. No. Not. One.

I continue to learn that as I compare I condemn. I condemn those who don't measure up to me and then I condemn myself for not measuring up to others. I don't want the pink ring. I want what I have. I want real, honest, and sincere. I think we all do. So, where it might be fun to wear the ring. I'll never take mine off for fear I'll lose it, or myself. God help me to keep my eyes on you. My standard is Christ and His death and resurrection is the only thing that keeps me from absolute destruction. I praise you for reminding me in "Ali ways" that comparison belittles that which is real and priceless.

A Visitor for Bear

One of my favorite times of the day is when we are piled up on our chair or couch with a stack of books around us. Most recently we were reading a book called, "A Visitor for Bear" written by Bonny Becker. The illustrations are beautifully done and the story is really sweet. My heart was convicted as I read it. I suppose sometimes I don't slow down enough for the Lord to show me my heart and it's tendencies, but this book stopped me.

There is a grumpy bear that doesn't care for visitors. He is so very against visitors that he has even nailed a sign to his door. There is, however, a little mouse. The mouse is small and gray and bright-eyed. The bear is furious that this mouse continues to completely ignore his disdain for visitors. The mouse keeps appearing and each time the bear chases him out, he goes one step further in keeping the mouse out. He firmly locks the door, boards the windows shut, stopped up the chimney and even plugged the drain in the tub. He did not want company! Eventually the mouse wears the bear down and he allows the mouse to stay for a bit of cheese and a cup of tea. Fair enough. As they share this small time the bear begins to open up, he begins sharing jokes and tricks. He begins to soften and enjoy the company. In fact, when it is time for the mouse to leave, he begs him to stay. What happened to the bear?

He was pursued. The mouse didn't care. The mouse didn't stop at a locked door or a boarded window. Even the stopped up tub didn't phase him. I loved it. I won't tell you anymore, because it really is a precious read, I will say that the change in bear challenged me. I wondered, "Lord, is there anyone that has locked their doors, sealed their chimney, or even stoppered their tub that needs a friend?" Is there someone, somewhere that has a joke to tell by a warm fire and no one to share it with? Is there someone who can do a headstand and no one is there to watch it? Who are they Lord? Who are they and where are they? Please let me see them. Please don't let me be afraid of their barred windows and locked doors.

You see, all of us lock the doors at some point. All of us stopper the tub hoping to keep someone, or something out. As Jesus pursued me...and continues to pursue me I have to pull those nails out of the boards one at a time. Each time a bit more sunlight shines through the window. A bit more daylight warms the cold areas of my heart where I would not allow someone. As He pursues me, I pray that I would be bold enough to pursue others. To ask how people are doing, and wait for a response. I pray that I would sit and listen to stories that I may have heard before. I pray that I wouldn't mock the lonely spirit that wanders into a conversation to which they were not included. I pray that my eyes would be open and aware...looking for the souls that are locked up tight. Perhaps there is a sign on their heart, "No Visitors Allowed." I pray that I would look past that sign, ignore it all together and let them know that I am not a visitor. Visitors come and leave quickly. No, I don't want to visit. I don't want someone to put their best face on and clean up because they know they are having a "visitor." I hope that God would make me into a person that is more than a visitor, something more like a friend.

How about you? Are you the bear? Shut up nice and tight in the safety of your own world, but lonely and longing for a friend to share your life with? Or are you the mouse? Small and gray and bright-eyed that just wants to share a bit of cheese and a cup of tea? I think we are all a little bit of both, perhaps we would all make wonderful friends.

"A friend loves at all times." Proverbs 17:17

Winter Wonderland