Thinking of Malawi

   

     I was reminded afresh this week just how much I have to be thankful for.  A dear friend sent me a video that was about Africa and photos from a worship session where a group from Africa were singing praise songs.  Realizing the differences in our cultures, she was surprised and humored by a line in the song that compared caring children on their backs to God carrying us.
     This took me back 7 to our trip to Africa.  I would take much longer than a blog to talk about how and why we ended up on a mission trip to Malawi, Africa but that is not for today.  No matter where life takes Taylor and I we are never very far away from that trip to Africa.  It was crazy, but crazy good.
     I was reminded this week of the women in Malawi.  I began to consider how they carried their children on their backs.  In the good ole U.S.A. we typically carry our children on our hips or in a sling on the front of our bodies.  I haven't really thought about this much.  But when I saw that video this week it hit me...they have to carry their children like this.  Those dear women carry their children on their backs out of necessity.  They work very hard to scratch out an existence.  I do not say "living" because most of them are barely staying alive.  They do not have childcare and they do not have other options.  Everyone who can, is working in some shape, form or fashion.   In America we have things to do.  And, yes, as moms we often multitask by carrying our babies in a sling while we work.  But often times its more helpful to place them in a sling because those precious little ones like being snuggled up to Mom and they tend to sleep or enjoy looking around while they are close to Mom.  But in Africa they have to put those little ones in their slings on their back because they have to have both hands free to thresh grain or carry extremely heavy water jugs on their heads that have to occasionally be balanced by their hands.  They have to wash clothes by hand and build fires for meal.   But actually taking time to compare how and why we carry our children astounded me.  All those years of raising our little ones, a dozen years of toddlers,  I took for granted carrying my babies.  And to be honest I sometimes resented being busy and needing to toss a toddler on my hip.  But the truth is I had a privilege instead of a responsibility.  It was luxury (isn't that ironic) to be able to carry my little ones around on my hip!
     The other memory I had was one with the women in the bush.  Most of the people at the "conference"  we held had walked hours in order to come and learn.  They had brought all their children and everything they would need to stay as long as needed to.  When asked how long we should teach they said for us to talk as long as we would. We literally tagged teamed the entire day for several days and these hungry people soaked up every word we shared like it was there first meal in weeks.  But the memory that stirs me today is one where the women and men had separated into groups.  We had a question and answer time allowing the women to ask about those things that were weighing on their hearts.  A lady stood that day to ask me a question.  I was scared to death.  They were so hungry and I felt so inadequate. She, through the translator, asked, "I am a Christian and my husband is not.  I can not read.  How do I know how to follow the Lord?"  There she stood, hoping that I held the answer to her question.  I would like to tell you I had a brilliant response, but honestly I can not remember what I even said that day.
      From that place of complete honestly and desperate need, there rises up in me a fountain of thankfulness.  The honest truth is we have so much to be thankful for.  If you are reading this blog today you are doing better than 785 million people in this world.  If you are married and your spouse is a Christian you are in a vast minority by a long shot and that is cause to exceedingly rejoice!  I can't remember thinking God for being able to read-EVER.  But I am today!  I have thanked him for my husband and for his faith but I have never really appreciated how rare our situation really is.
     Where ever this find you today, we have so much to rejoice about.  We have so many things to be thankful for.  In spite of what is happening today there are things to appreciate.  So let's start this week out counting our blessings and asking God to show us as we go throughout this week more of those things we have never stopped to be grateful for.  An hymn is playing in my heart, "Come thou fount of every blessing.  Tune my heart to sing thy praise."  It is going to be a great week!

Too Much Talking

     My quota has been filled.  I am officially maxed out on words per day that I can hear.  It is only 15 minutes after 12 and I can not possibly listen to anymore words.   My children's mouths are moving and words are coming out but I am not able to take in anymore words.   We have hit the part of  break where they have been constantly entertained and have temporarily forgotten how to entertain themselves.  It's time for a Christmas detox for all of us.

     It really started this morning.  I was trying to write and proof and they were right under my arm.  If I could temporarily remove a word from our day's vocabulary it would be "look".  No joke or exaggeration, I have been asked to "look" ( I am almost cringing typing the word) at least 40 times, but maybe closer to 100 times in the last 2 days.  It is not enough that they have gotten all these cool things they want to show me every single thing they do with the new toys.  They desire an audience and I am that audience.  Elizabeth Jane was putting together another part of her lego (which I helped her with for over an hour yesterday) and she wanted me to "l---" at every single piece she put on today.  And not only that, but she had a running dialogue the entire time she was working on it.  I don't want to feel like Charlie Brown listening to his teacher, but I DO! But it wasn't just the youngest,  Shepherd hits the floor this morning trying to figure out who he wants to come over and play and why they should come.  We went to bed last night with our oldest planning the New Year's Eve party and, even though she is not a morning talker, she too mumbled some things when she came down about the party and stuff to get at the store.

     This train of thought made me consider what I sound like to God.  Do I just go on and on about everything, demand his attention and take Him for granted?  Do I only think about me and what is going on for and around me?  Does God run out of words that He can hear?

     It NEVER happens.  Thankfully, He is the perfect Father.  I am not.  I am far from perfect and I drop the ball often.  I am pretty sure that I will not ever win the Parent of the Year award and I have to say I am sorry a lot.  But if I was perfect my kids would never need God because they would already have their on personal god right here in their very own house.  God loves for us to talk to Him and He loves when we want to hear from Him.  He looks at us with love and care and wants to know what we are interested in or what is important to us.  If we are being self-centered He is so kind to show us in a way that is helpful.  God really does care about all the details in our lives and is most concerned about how they relate to our hearts.  He NEVER EVER had a word quota and desires to hear from us any and every moment of the day or night.  And He is the God of the Universe!

     Ok, so I am giving myself a break.  Maybe it's time that I need to put my own selfishness aside and allow God to parent through me.  The Bible says, "I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength." It is so true.  Maybe what I need to do is ask God to help me see my kids as He sees them and to hear them as He hears them.  As I type they are upstairs.   Two boys are playing ball in the playroom my a little girl is cheering for them (non-stop) at the top of her lungs.  I think I need to push restart on my word-meter and let that thing start all over.  Oh heck, maybe I need to throw that stupid thing in the trash and say good riddance.  This season will pass quickly, just as they all do.  Every moment we are given is a gift and I want to appreciate each and every one.

What is That Smell?

 

      We were trying to leave for a cross-country meet and were rushing around to get on the road. We had no time to spare...when a horrible smell slammed into my nose the minute I got in the van.  It did not take long to identify that it was Shepherd's shoes.  (The smell was very similar to the odor that our cat, Sonya, left in the middle of my Mom's bed when she was mad.) Down went the windows, but to no avail.  Running in the rain at practice on Wednesday had caused the stink in Shepherd's shoes to go south quickly. So sweaty boys and stinky shoe smells filled up the van.

     When we returned home that night I gave specific instructions. All running clothes HAD to be left right in front of the washing machine.  In no time at all I went to gather the clothes up, impressed they had listened well the first time, and threw them in the washer.  The smell was HORRIBLE.  Everyone that came in the laundry room was gagging.  I even had the boys move their shoes out of the garage into the driveway.  All bases covered and everyone headed to bed.

     Did I tell you I have a very strong sense of smell?  As I lay in bed, there was  a smell that seeped out of the laundry room and into my bedroom.  It haunted me all night.  When Taylor got up the next morning he came back in and said that something was stinking in the laundry room.  Because he runs a fire and water restoration business he is a pro (literally) about smells.  If he thinks something stinks it must be SERIOUS!

     Back I go to the laundry room.  I wondered if someone had not listened after all.  Had a stinky garment landed in the hamper, hidden?  So with a furor and vigor that only a person truly on a mission has, I tackled the laundry.  Load after load went through, but the stink remained.  The thoughts I had began to become irrational.  I considered that the stinky shoe smell was rushing out from the driveway, coming in through the garage, and into the house.  I considered asking Taylor to bring professional equipment home to clean our laundry room.  Had something died in here?

     On  my way to go get groceries I realized that rain had poured down on the already stinky shoes and soaked them again and so I picked them up and headed to the empty washer.  I threw them in and put some strong cleaner in as well.  When I got back in the van I realized everywhere I went the smell followed me.  I picked up my phone, my hand stunk like the shoes.  I touched the steering wheel and it transferred.  It was happening before I even realized it. The stench was getting everywhere.

     But isn't that the way it happens with our attitude also.  When I am grumpy or angry or bitter or sad that attitude begins to travel around with me everywhere I go.  It doesn't take me long to begin to see that same attitude show up on our children.   I also begin to see it in other people, like the clerk at the store, the librarian, the waiter.  But it is me sharing my stench with others around me.

    The Lord in His kindness gently reminded me of who He created me to be..."the aroma of Christ." 2 Corinthians 2:14-15 says, "Yet I am so thankful to God, who always marches us to victory under the banner of the Anointed One and through us He spreads the beautiful fragrance of His knowledge to every corner of the earth.  In a turbulent world where people are either dying or being rescued, we are the sweet smell of the Anointed to God our Father."  It's His aroma that we should be spreading around.  When we come in contact with others its His love, joy, and peace that should be blessing them.

     When I returned home I went back to the laundry room.  IT STILL STUNK!  I had washed every single thing in the the basket.  I had put two towels in with the tennis shoes and decided to try washing those towels one more time.  Just before starting the load, I remembered I had left a couple of dish towels in the sink of the laundry room and went to grab them.  Underneath those towels lay the stink.  Two very wet, very nasty socks.  They had been there for two days.  I threw them in the washer immediately and before the cycle was complete the smell was gone.

     Our attitude may take a bit of digging too.  Just like I had to go through a lot of laundry to discover the real problem, some persistence may be required.  But being honest with ourselves and before the Lord is a key.  Is there a reason why I get angry quickly? Is there a lie that I have believed about myself that causes me to self-protect or grow defensive? Do I avoid the nasty smell all together just hoping that by ignoring it may go away on its on.  Maybe the stink is not a surface issue and needs a bit of patience to discover the real issue.

     But once we discover the root of the issue it can all shift.   We need our good Father to speak into our situation. He can help us discover what the real stink is and allow us to be what we are created to be.   We are the aroma of Christ and it is His fragrance we are made to share with the world around us.  It is truly amazing how our good attitudes rub off.  When we are joyful it also affects those around us.  I was praising God the other day singing as I went around the house and within a few minutes Elizabeth Jane singing the same song. It was so sweet to think that my joy transferred into her joy.

     It is a privilege to be the aroma of Christ.  Our "perfume" came at a costly price.  As we go through our day let's spread His beautiful aroma with as many people as we can and see how many leave us spreading that same aroma with those they come in contact with.


   

Could This Day Get Any Better?

   

   

     Some days are just beautiful days! Today has been one of those.  Living in West Tennessee does have some great advantages. You can not drive very far without seeing fields full of crops.  There are constantly conversations about how the corn is looking or how the cotton blooms are coming out.  We do not own farm land, but we talk like we do.

     We went to a pick-your-own farm today and had a blast.  Mary Taylor and I took Elizabeth Jane and cousin Pate for our, first ever, blueberry picking experience.  We had to walk on a field row to get back to the berries.  We passed a broccoli field (I didn't even know broccoli grew here) that was amazing to see.  And we passed a field that was empty of crops but was full of wildflowers.  I wish that I could have captured the beauty in a picture but none would do it justice.  As well as beautiful flowers, the field was full of all kinds of breath taking butterflies!  If having a respite from the heat and an overcast sky were not enough, God held off the coming rain and blessed us with a feast for our eyes.  I could have stopped right there and stayed for the rest of the day.  But we pressed on.

     The little ones running down the dirt path surrounded by butterflies and old barns seemed almost to sweet for words.  And then we saw the blueberry bushes laden with ripe berries.  We had been told by the farmer we were at the end of the season so I did not have high expectations.  I was going to be glad to get a quart and appreciate the experience.  But in every direction there were bushes from which to pick.  The children ran from bush to bush grabbing berries and were as excited as if they were picking candy.

     While we were there the farmer's wife drove up.  Minus her car,  it felt like Little House on the Prairie.  I could not remember the berry price the farmer had quoted us over the phone and asked her again how much the berries were.  She looked tired and was wanting a rest and told us that two dollars a quart would be plenty since it was the end of the season.  Then with a little glimmer in her eye she said, "But you know they are sweeter now that anytime of the year."  I asked her if she wanted me to bring the money to her before we left and she told us to just leave the money in the basket by the barn. (You have to love West Tennessee)  She headed off to her beautiful old log cabin that I was secretly wishing was mine.  I was blown away.  Could this day get any better.  We were going to get twice as many berries for half what we would pay and have fun getting them.

    We picked and picked and picked berries.  Even little Pate did not loose heart.  We ended up with more berries than we really needed and several mosquito bites that we did not have before.  However, the morning we had was definitely one that will not quickly be forgotten.  As I was finishing, I was reminded of one of our favorite books that Elizabeth Jane has not heard yet,  Blueberries for Sal by Robert McKloskey.  I began to tell them about Sal going blueberry picking with her mom.  All of a sudden I had one of those lightbulb moments.  Don't you love those!  I set the book up.  I told them how Sal met an unexpected visitor that day...but I didn't tell them who.  Their eyes got big and their minds began turning.  It's going to be so fun tonight to snuggle up in bed and read the book again.  It will be like introducing her to an old friend for the first time.  I can not wait to see her surprise when she finds out who that unexpected visitor turns out to be.

      I have a feeling that this is the kind experience that keeps on giving.  Mary Taylor already has chosen new recipes to try.  Blueberry scones. And there is talk about wether or not we could make blueberry cobbler.  Taylor and Brady like blueberry muffins, so on Saturday I may try some from scratch. That's a little bit scary, but who cares!  We are going to ride this one all the way out.  I may even hide some in a ziplock, in the back of the freezer, to pull out one cold winter day. That may be the perfect time to try another batch of hot muffins or scones. Who knows, we may make some hot chocolate too. But one thing I know for sure...we will smile about today when we do.

When It All Shifted

       

       There it was staring me right in the face. Jealously. And it was my reflection I was seeing. Ugh and gross. Nasty. It was definitely not something I was proud of. But standing there that day and seeing what I was really struggling with caused something very important to rise up in me, resolution.  

        Being a stay-at-home mom for 17 years and a homeschooling mom for 11, I have, for the most part, been able to focus on raising our children and teaching them. I have had other little jobs, here and there, to make additional income, but only occasionally. Staying at home is exactly what I always wanted to do and I consider it a privilege to get to homeschool our children. 

        But just recently I have seen a bit of resentment seeping in.  While on our resent trip to Chicago our kids were kindly thanking their dad for bringing them on his work’s conference trip. It was very sweet and sincere. But Satan was hanging out trying to get my attention. He was whispering lies to me saying, “See they don’t even see you. No one appreciates all you do.”

        Amid the busyness of Taylor’s meetings, trying to maneuver our kids through a big city, and not getting enough sleep, I was not thinking clearly. I did not even realize I was under attack. I knew I was not feeling like myself but I was totally missing the battle. Although quiet time would have been one solution to receive a head’s up about what was happening, it seemed impossible to accomplish in the situation...or so I thought. 

        It all shifted when our oldest, Mary Taylor, stepped up to the plate. We were at Navy Pier.  Because we could not get into the restaurant we came to eat at for another 2 hours we decided to grab whatever we could get for our dinner. Our youngest, Elizabeth Jane, wanted McDonald’s and nobody else would even consider it. Since I was already in a full-fledged pity party, I took her. She was thrilled that she was getting to eat something she really wanted and hardly ever gets. Instead of being excited for her I was thinking of myself. I would “sacrifice” yet again. I would be the martyr. 

       We got our delicious, healthy meal from the Golden Arches and made our way to a table. While we were sitting there waiting for the others, Mary Taylor appeared with a bag from Starbucks. It might as well have been a crown of jewels for the impact that it had. She handed it to me and told me that she had gotten me something. I love gifts and always have. Just the bag and the thought might have been enough to break the cycle, but the gift in the bag blew it out of the water. I also love coffee. Some of my favorite coffee mugs are the Starbucks ones that have the pictures from different places on them. I had commented a LONG time ago that it would be neat to get one when we went different places to remember our trips. In the bag was the Chicago mug. Mary Taylor did not realize it, but in that moment she punched Satan in the teeth. 

        Everything shifted. The cloud lifted and the sun shone through. It was God’s voice I began to hear. He began to talk to me about how it was all a lie. Not only did my husband and children appreciate me but they listen and care about the things that are important to me. At about 4:00 the next morning (the only quiet time in the day) God woke me up and began to talk to me about how much he cares for me. I did not get up or even move in the bed because I was certain somebody would try to get up with me. He began to remind me that even if no one else in the world did care, His care for me is enough. He also reminded me that if I am seeking someone else's opinion to determine my value it will be a miserable journey. He began to speak to the hurt places in my heart and tell me how He sees me all the time and loves me. 

         The same goes for you friends. He sees you. You are not alone and can never be alone as long as He is your Father. The things that are important to your heart are important to Him. He is pleased with you no matter what the enemy is trying to tell you. I pray for you today that if you are walking around with clouds hanging over you, that those clouds will part and the Son will shine through. Climb up in your Father’s lap and let him tell you the truth about the lies you have been hearing. You will never regret it!