Guacamole

Last night, good friends invited us for dinner at their home. Elizabeth was planning enchiladas, I made cookies, and the warm spring weather beckoned kids to frolic in the yard. It promised to be a fun evening. And it was. Six girls…swinging from trees, splashing in the hot tub, and giggling.

As mamas, though, you never know when the sweetness of a spring evening is going to plummet into ugliness. We can’t always predict what is going to tip our well-mannered giggle-boxes off the edge of reason into full-blown tantrum mode.

Last night, it was guacamole. A thin layer of sauce made from mild guacamole covered the chicken enchiladas.  And I have one daughter (she’ll remain nameless) who does not care for avocados in any shape or form. I have to admit, I don’t like them either. The slimy texture and bland flavor kind of turn my stomach, too. But, Erik and I are firm believers that our little ones need to learn how to receive hospitality with graciousness. We want them, in every situation, to be able to eat whatever is put in front of them – even if their portion is small. I need to know that if I send a child to a friend’s for supper, and I am not there, they will eat the food provided with a grateful heart, even if it is unfamiliar or distasteful to them.  It’s important. We have gone over those rules of manners and thankfulness often. And they understand our reasoning.  The stakes get higher as they get older. It might be a meal offered in the context of a faraway culture, and the gracious enjoyment of it might open doors to share the gospel.  It might be a formal dinner, where their manners make a lasting impression. It might even be the first meal with their future husband! Ya just open your mouth, take small bites, and ya swallow. It’s a simple way to honor the gift someone has given by preparing or providing a meal for you.

So, last night, a small piece of enchilada was placed on my daughter’s plate. She was asked to eat a few bites with a thankful heart and a cheerful attitude.

And she didn’t do it. Instead, she scowled and growled and made faces and grumbled rudely. She spent time upstairs, away from the other children, pondering how she could best honor and respect her kind host. How she could demonstrate love and thankfulness even over a plate of mashed avocados. After many minutes away from the table, she returned with even more scowling and rude comments. Another time-out upstairs, another soft-spoken admonition from her mama, and a less soft one from her daddy. Finally, she swallowed one measly bite.  But because of her continued, wrong attitude as she choked it down, Erik removed her plate and would not allow her to eat any of the side dishes or dessert.

And then the wailing and screaming began. Erik took our daughter out to the car while I apologized to my friend and gathered our other three kiddos from the playroom.

As I told Elizabeth, we could have avoided the whole ugly scene by allowing her to skip the enchiladas and just eat a plate of salad. But, once the rule was set forth, our consistency was demanded. We had to follow through with gentle, but firm, resolve.

As I thought about it later, I realized, too, that it is good to have friends with whom you can practice these important life skills. Friends who will forgive rude behavior and a spoiled dinner, knowing that next time, it might be their child who needs some careful training in the midst of a social event.  Friends who support the training you are trying to do with your kiddos – the raising up of godly men and women. Not everyone would agree, I am sure, but to us, this is a big enough issue to fight a gnarly battle over. That plate of guacamole is important.

The consequence: it will be a long while before this child can accept an invitation to dinner at a friend’s home without her mama or daddy. She lost our trust last night. She will have to show a renewed commitment to politeness and cheerful thankfulness in several supervised settings before we can allow her the privilege of enjoying a meal with friends unattended.

The grace: a bowl of chocolate malt-o-meal for breakfast. And a lunchbox full of things I know she will eat, including the oatmeal cookie she missed out on yesterday.

How do you handle these issues in your home?

Who is Jesus?

Early yesterday morning, as her older sisters savored the last moments of school-day slumber, and I emptied the dishwasher in preparation for the load of dirty breakfast dishes I would soon fill it with, little Hope toddled about my legs, hugging me, laughing, and carrying on a lisped and joyful conversation.

I laughed with her. "Hope-girl, who loves you, sweet one?" 

She tipped her head back. "Mommy loves me."  She grinned.  "And Jesus." 

I smiled back at her.  "Jesus loves you so much! Even more than Mommy does.  Who is Jesus, little one?" 

She wrinkled her cute nose. "I tan't answer you dat, Mommy." 

I laughed.  Oh, how I laughed.  

Of course she couldn't answer that.  She's barely two.  She knows Jesus loves her, because I tell her every day.  She knows the Bible is all about Jesus, and she loves to read stories from the Jesus Calling Bible we bought her for her birthday.   But, she doesn't know how to answer the question, "who is Jesus?" She doesn't have a face or personality to match the concept.  

"I tan't answer you dat, Mommy." 

My precious girl.  

I was praying this morning, curled up on the window seat this time, asking God to help me see Him.  To know Him.  To really have genuine intimacy with Him and to know His heart.  It is easy to go through the motions of the Christian faith, but do we really know Jesus? As we study Scripture, do we see God's character? Do we learn of who He is and grow to love Him more?  Or do we just check a chapter off our day's to-do?

God's character is unfathomable.  I attempted to write a chapter a few months ago about who God is, and why He is worthy of our fear.   But I realized my words were so feeble!  God's bigness is not describable! He is set-apart, so different from us.   He is perfect, and good, and so merciful and kind that we can't begin to understand.  We can't wrap up a description of our great God in concise, tidy terms.   

Like Hope, we have to admit, "I can't answer that." 

But, let's try! Let's dive deep.  Let's ask God to reveal Himself to us as we study His Word, as we pray.  Let us seek knowing God - and loving Him more, every day. 

Perfection vs. Holiness

This morning, sitting in pre-dawn chill with my cup of milky tea and my books spread helter-skelter over the glossy wood of our farmhouse-style table, I felt the Lord press onto my open heart new words for an old struggle.   

“Do you see the ways you are still focusing on external perfection, instead of internal holiness?” the Spirit nudged my heart. 

My heart beat faster as that clear phrase clicked in my muddied early morning thoughts.  The puzzle pieces snapped together. 

Yes.  That is what I do.  It is what I have done since I was a small girl, and it is what I still do, today.  

I have been the cup – the one scrubbed spotless on the outside and yet ringed with oily filth on the inside. 

I have spotless kitchen counters.  And I have jumbled, disorderly dresser drawers. 

I was the girl who cared more about the report card “A” than about having knowledge and wisdom stored in my head and heart.

And I am still the one who struggles with wanting my kiddos to be “good” so that others will think I am a good parent. 

I beg God – daily – to remake my heart, to purify my motives, and make me care only about His glory – not my own. 

But old habits die hard, and I still want to be perfect. 

It’s funny… the things God uses to refine our hearts.   I knew that I would wrestle with putting my kids in school for the first time.  I have been their only teacher, and anything they don’t know, any areas they are behind in, point to my deficiencies.  If they are not perfect, it means that I am not either. 

Believe me, I know I am not.  And I know they are not.  But it’s easy to want to be a cup, scrubbed clean. 

The writing project that has kept me for so long away from blogging is about shedding the fear of man by growing a right fear of the Lord.  I have studied, researched, read, and prayed my way through this topic in the last nine months.  But I haven’t conquered it.   I still chase after “looking good,” when I should be pursuing inner holiness.  

It doesn’t matter if my sweet girls score a perfect grade on a math test.  It doesn’t matter if toys mutate and reproduce on my stained carpet before I have a chance to clean them up.  God doesn’t demand worldly perfection from us.  He doesn’t ask us to be the best at everything.  He doesn’t require that we vacuum our floors after every meal or that we never flub a phonics quiz. 

He wants our hearts.  He wants them to be pure, set-apart for His use.  He wants us to confess our sins, receive His forgiveness, and rest in His grace.  He wants us to pursue holiness, honesty, humility, and love.  The untidy heap of shoes in my entryway is not a sin.  My attitude about it might be. 

Life is not always going to come easy – for me, or my kids. There are things we are going to struggle with – whether it is math, or reading, or athletics, or crocheting (I can’t seem to learn).  We aren’t perfect. 

And we aren’t called to be.  We are called to be holy.   

There is a difference. 

First Week of School

So... obviously I am not keeping up with the blog. :) Yup, life happens.  I decided to start a larger writing project, and I have not been doing any short posts.  I will let you know when that project is done.  

But, I did want to post pictures of my girls on the morning of their first day of school.  Most of you know that our older two are attending a private classical school this year.  They are loving it! They have wonderful teachers, small classes (Sadie's is 9 kids, Ellie's is 10), and rich curriculum.  I am already seeing improvement in some of Elisa's struggle areas.  We have had some tough homework moments -- but we are working out the kinks in a new schedule.  This is all new to me, too! The breakfasts, the lunches to pack, the scurry...  the afternoon welcome and the need to transfer to my attention from little ones who have had all of me, all day, onto big ones who suddenly need me - and who I have missed! 

You will notice that Raina tried hard to match the big girls' uniforms for the first day.   You might also notice that Sadie-girl cut her hair eight days before the start of school.  Growing out bangs, now. :)  

We are thankful and excited for the year ahead!

Hope-isms

My sweet Hope is getting big.  She is a constant source of laughter at our house, as her vocabulary and understanding grow daily.  Quickly -- a few favorites. 

Hope loves to write.  She scribbles and scribbles and tells me over and over, "I, I, A, A, O."  Then she will hand me a pen and say, "Hopie," indicating that I should write her name for her on the page.  

She loves her sissies.  If she is up first, she will walk around saying, "Ell-yee, Sa-dee, Rain-ee," until her three sisters all join her downstairs. 

She is a little selfish with her mama's attention and pushes anyone else out of my lap. "Yappee!" 

She likes Bibles. "Bib-ee."  All other books are "read-ee." 

She calls any thing with a button a "beep." 

She tells her sisters when they should say sorry.  If someone is mean, she will say, "mean." And then point and say "Yorry." 

She likes sharing a room with Raina.  It has made going to bed much easier for her. 

She doesn't like to be dirty. "Dir-tee! Wite!" 

She always wants to drink  "tea." Luckily, she is just as happy with a cup of warm water as she is with real tea.  She usually gets warm water and a splash of milk. 

She is not used to having a bit warmer weather, and still wants a hat, mittens and boots to go outside, even if we are all in shirtsleeves.  And, okay, today it is snowing. 

Loving life with my littles!

Marriage, Part Two

Twelve years ago, I got a letter in the mail from a boy I had long thought was too handsome and confident to ever be interested in me.  It was a kind letter, an informative and thoughtful letter, and it invited a response.  I took a chance, and I responded.  :) And for months, we cautiously responded to words sent over oceans....  slowing giving our hearts to one another on pages of white printer paper and lined sheets torn from yellow legal pads or college notebooks.   

We were reminiscing about those days, and I realized that I am so thankful that I have more than words on a page to know my husband by.  Now, nine years into marriage, I know the contours of his hands, and the different tones of his deep voice.  I know exactly how he takes his morning tea, and I can (finally) fold his Carhaart pants with just the right creases.  The slow opening of our hearts was good.  But this day-to-day knowing one another is better.

As we prepared for marriage, we promised to keep a constant watch on the wall of our marriage.  To maintain closeness built by a thousand small strands of every day togetherness.  Sometimes I get annoyed when I hear someone say that "date night" is a requirement for a good marriage.  Date night is good. It's (as author Courtney Joseph says,) "the cherry on top of the marriage sundae."  But, nights out with your mate are not a requirement.   They are a blessing.  Personally, we go out together only a couple of times a year.  But, we cultivate closeness through daily togetherness.  Through connecting every evening with a kiss and the words, "Tell me about your day." Often Erik will say, "What made you laugh today?" I think that connecting with each other daily through affectionate touch and honest conversation is a key strand.  

One of the things that I feel has helped our marriage is that we are both pretty light on technology.  That sounds silly, but I think it's actually been a blessing to us.  Neither of us has an i-phone.  We don't have a laptop - just a desktop computer in our office. We don't have television.   Because we don't have those things, our time together is not distracted by the pull of them.  When the kids go to bed, we finish cleaning up the kitchen, gather misplaced toys and coats and shoes, and then, we spend our evening (short though it might be) talking, reading, and being together.  There are times when one of us needs to use the computer for a project - to prep the next day's schoolwork, or to write a meeting agenda for the elder board...   but our unspoken commitment is that we don't use the computer for recreation or amusement when we are together.  I am not saying that devices are bad.  I am sure that they are very helpful in many ways.  But, I do think, that for us, being device-free allows us to have more uncluttered time together. It keeps us undistracted in our time together. 

We also go to bed together nearly every night.  We are on the same sleep schedule, and I think that is a blessing to us, as well. We climb under the covers together, talk, snuggle, and turn out the lights at the same time.  It is lonely to climb into bed without my husband, and I am thankful that both of us are early to bed - although not always as early to rise as I wish we were!

We have grown to enjoy many of the same activities.  I had never cross-country skied before our marriage, and I chose to enter my husband's world and learn something new.  I am so glad that we are a Nordic family.  I love, love, love skiing, now.  Together, we also enjoy hiking, canoeing, camping.... all things I had done, but to a lesser extent than Erik had.  As I bent towards him in our recreational choices, I found I loved each of those things.  And Erik has bent, too.  He has discovered he really enjoys ice skating. And tea. He is way more of a connoisseur than I am these days. I think our marriage has been blessed by choosing to recreate together - by learning new things and joining in, rather than taking turns doing our own thing.   

As a wife, I find that our marriage is blessed when I a) put my husband's interests before my own, and b) make his priorities mine.  Sometimes I think I am doing something important with my time and resources, only to realize that Erik would prefer I handle things differently.  As an example, I have tried, at times, to be very rigid with our grocery budget, and I thought he would be blessed.  It turned out that he preferred a well-stocked refrigerator to my end of the month frugality.  My choice to make do with what we had because the budget for the month was gone made him feel that he was not providing for us, when in fact the money was available.  Recently I asked Erik to think through his top priorities for how I spend my time.  I want the way I order our days at home to be pleasing to him.  I also want to serve and give to him without expecting an even reciprocation. God calls us to lay down our lives, and sometimes I only want to do that if I am "getting" in return.  The truth is that he is consciously seeking to serve me, too, and both of us reap  greatly from sowing unselfishness.  But my motivation should be to love God and serve Him as I serve my husband and submit to his leadership.

Here is an area we don't do as well, and oh, how we wish we did! We have always talked about making it a priority, and it has continued to be a challenge.  Praying together. When we pray together - heads bend, hand-holding - we draw closer together and closer to God.  We have struggled to find the "right" time of day, and simply to be consistent.  Anyone have suggestions about how this works in your marriages?

West Yellowstone

 Last weekend, our family packed up coolers and bags and skis (read: our car was very FULL) and drove two and a half hours to stay in the little town of West Yellowstone.  Erik was signed up to race his second annual 50K ski marathon, while Elisa was excited to join other kiddos in a 2K. She has really blossomed in her skate ski ability this year, and racing has become fun for her.  She was proud to wear her West Yellowstone hat (bought on an earlier trip) bedecked with her new race pin.  

And the rest of us?  Well, thanks to the kind help of my friend Dancy (her husband is Erik's racing and training partner), I actually jumped in my first ever ski race - a 10K.   The funny thing about ski race distances....   the "good" skiers, the well-trained ones, the ones who have done this before.... well, they race big.  Like my husband.  So I joined a race filled with high-schoolers (Yup. They are faster than me), and a large group of older ladies and gentlemen who were (mostly) out for a Saturday morning jaunt.  :)  I knew that I was not going to compete against the 15 and 16 year-olds, so I just started at the back next to people who looked older than me, and then concentrated on slowly working my way up during the race.  It was actually really fun! I enjoyed just skiing on the varied terrain of the course, and paying attention to technique on the downhills, which are challenging for me. I beat my goal of finishing under forty-five minutes, and I didn't fall.  And, because all the fast 30 year-olds ski in the endurance races, I got a medal for my age group! I would love to race again next year, but maybe I'll be really brave and try the 25K! I can guarantee you there would be no medal.

 At the finish line.....  the kiddos played and played on a giant snowplow mound with their friends.  The two daddies came in at 2 hours and 25 minutes, and 2 hours and 30 minutes, so there was plenty of time running, skiing, and sledding on their bellies.  I love this photo of Raina with her buddy Jonathan.

 Sadie sledding with Olivia.

 Grinning at the start line after the start of Mom's race. Elisa and her friend James started their 2K five minutes after my race began, so sweet Dancy was in charge of getting them to their places while juggling six other kiddos.  She's pretty amazing. 

 At the start.

Cheering on Daddy as he comes to the finish.  He had a great race -- he improved his time by 20 minutes and he said he felt strong and ornery - which I took as a good thing. :) Doesn't he look handsome in his mid-nineties race suit? :)  I love that he is bright and easy to identify on the course.