Spring cleaning....

and all its requisite labors has been happening around these parts the last several days. While it is a relief to get rid of the clutter and see the original surfaces of things like floors, desks, cabinets, and the like, it is as much as an emotional labor as it is a physical one.

I'm one of those that has memories attached to things that others would quickly label as "junk." That shirt I was wearing the last time I held James. That book that was given to me after my first year as a Bible teacher. That brochure that I used to plan our family trip to Williamsburg.

Agh. I wish that I could easily toss those things. And sometimes I am able to break the bond, remember the moment, smile (or shed a tear) and "let it go!" But other times that thing, whatever it may be, just goes into the deal with it later pile.

This year's spring cleaning may have been invested with a tad bit more emotion, I will confess. Nate, my oldest son, went on his first college visit the same weekend that I was at the homeschool convention with my youngest son planning his high school courses while my middle son was at home playing a big regional soccer game. Between Thursday and Saturday my heart was in three very different places.

Spring cleaning was on the tails of trying to mentally group and re-group how very different one year from now will be in our lives. We are at the beginning of an ending of sorts. Spring cleaning in a year will involve packing one up for a move out of the house and not just a re-organization of his room.

As one friend would write, cue "Sunrise, Sunset."

So--clutter was removed. Memories were remembered. Some things just moved from one pile to another. And tears were shed that I blamed on the dust that is stirred up from all that cleaning.

If doing the same thing over....

and over again while expecting a different result is the definition of insanity, then fixing your focus on all that you cannot change while expecting a different result is certainly the definition of frustration. Infinite frustration.

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference." 

Wikipedia explains that this poem is attributed to Reinhold Niebuhr, an American theologian, and its most common association is with the Alcoholics Anonymous program. 

But as a mom of teenaged sons, I'm inclined to think that a mom on her knees and carpet fuzz in her nose hairs cried it out in the closet one dark night of the soul while interceding for the soul of her son.

In many cases I vividly remember the infinite frustrations of being a teenager. I realize now as a mom that I had no vision for the infinite frustrations that my parents must have experienced as they witnessed me wrongly focused on that which could and would not make me happy. Ever. While stubbornly focused on those things which I mistakenly thought could and would make me happy. Not ever.

Enter the mom's curse, a la Bill Cosby's wife's voice, "I hope you have children just like you!"

And then she did.

In most families where all are biologically related, I hear the picking apart of various traits through the genetic tree--"She's as stubborn as her Aunt Patsy," or "Well, that is clearly the Nicholson in her." In my family where in at least two cases there is not a genetic linkage, there is still the spiritual one where as sons of Adam and as daughters of Eve we seek not that which God has said is good, very good, but we choose that which promises better while only delivering worst.

And over and over and over again both in insanity of soul and frustration of spirit we lather, rinse, and repeat.

On the outside it all looks so simple. When you're counseling a friend, it all sounds so simple. But when your son is the one circling in frustration, it is not so simple.

It is at about this point in the blog post that a resolution should be on its way; at least for the writing. Neither the reader nor the author will have that in this one. Yet. While every day is a step towards some form of resolution, the story is still in process; it is not finished.

Hence the "Serenity" prayer: help this mom to have peace for what she cannot change; courage to change what I can; and wisdom (from the Only Wise God) to know the difference. And bring my son's heart home to You.

The last guinea pig...

of the two, went to his new home today. His gift to us was a flare up on Samuel's hands and I got an asthma attack. But we still wish him well.

Within minutes he had a new name, Patches, and was being duly loved by the littles of the family. We are grateful for their willingness to adopt him. He needed more attention than any of us could give him.

Now it's just the two stupid cats. Ai yi yi.

Saturdays are for prepping..

prepping for lessons for next week's homeschool, prepping for any Bible teaching I am doing, and most of all prepping for all of the next week's meals. Thankfully, I've started sleeping in on Saturdays to give me the extra stamina I need for all of the day's prep.

Today included finishing up the week's menu which contains a birthday dinner for Matthew, a dinner party for 14 on Tuesday, and the regular stuff of the week. Two shopping trips, one to Sam's and one to Publix, garnered the necessary essentials. And then some.

I had a Bible lesson on Hebrews 1-6 to finish that took up about two hours and then it was into the kitchen for the cooking. I was able to prepare three pounds of green beans, the sausage spinach stuffing for Tuesday's party, an Italian cream cake, two batches of brownies, garlic chicken, rice, and do some other basics that will help ease the week's workload.

I still have kale and bok choy to make for the week's vegetables and the fridge is full of thawing venison, chicken, and pork for other meals. Tomorrow will be my day to rest and study though so more meal prep will have to wait until Monday morning.

As I've written previously, returning to work even part time has been quite an adjustment. For years I've had an alarm on my watch that goes off at 4:00. I call it my location alarm. It's a reminder at 4:00 to look and see where I am at in the day and decide what else needs to be done in regards to dinner. Although some days that 4:00 alarm has served to remind me that dinner needs to be decided.

With work though, the 4:00 alarm isn't enough. I'm tired by that time of the day from work and so if there is not some ease in all that has to be prepared for that night's meal, my family is likely to get a hodge podge of cereal, instant mac n' cheese, and cheese toast. Enter my Saturday prep.

Today was full of some extra desserts that had to be made but usually I reserve the day for cooking as much of the meat and veggies and starches that will be served during the week. Meatballs can be made and cooked ahead; chicken thawed so it quickly cooks on its serving day (just make sure it's still within date). I like to prepare a bit pot of rice and potatoes that can be easily warmed up. And I do as many vegetables as I can. That helps me stay on track with right eating and taking things to work.

The full load of prep on Saturday has given me new appreciation for Sunday's rest. There is a spiritual metaphor in there somewhere but tonight I'm just tired from a hard day's cooking. But that's okay, today's cooking means less stress in the week. That's a great exchange for one busy mom.

Working part-time has been...

a rocking of my world. Honestly.

The job came at an opportune moment both time wise and of financial benefit to our family. I had recently completed an eight year commitment to a volunteer position, the boys were now old enough to be home alone for short periods of time, Husband had finished building an office so he could work from home, and it all seemed like a just right moment.

I took a part time position with an organization I had worked with as a volunteer for 11 years. I thought I knew all the ins and outs. I believe in the mission. I have a personal connection to the mission. I liked all of the staff. So there I was, ready to step in and do the next thing.

Boy oh boy.

Multi-tasking within the home was a skill I have taken the last 20 plus years to develop. And even that development is rife with its faults. Housekeeping being only one example. I've learned a certain level of co-existence with dust bunnies. Ergh.

Multi-tasking between homeschooling, working outside of the home, and those other life things I enjoy like teaching Bible study, well, suffice it to say, I didn't know which side was up, which door was out, or what was for dinner for almost four months. And remembering to reboot the laundry was the last thing on my mind.

Insertion: moms take the time while your children are young to teach them multiple household skills from the kitchen to the laundry room. More than once the boys were invaluable in being able to help and work alongside me in the tasks of running our home.

It was a major transition for all of us. And we didn't make it through without multiple mistakes of short tempers, misunderstandings, temptations to laziness, poor habits, and missed opportunities. We had to restructure our week, our homeschooling schedule, and our time together as a family.

Some of those things are still a work in progress, but I am grateful, oh so grateful to have experienced God's sustaining grace and mercy in that work. I have had to learn hard lessons about myself, about contentment, about expectations, and about my place in a mostly secular environment.

Together as a family we have confronted our failures and celebrated new successes. The days have not been easy, but the lessons have been necessary. Sanctification comes in all sorts of packages. But every time it comes, we can rejoice in the promise of God to complete what He has begun, to provide when we are empty, to forgive when we fail, and to love us enduringly.

It was just supposed to be this little ole' part-time job. Instead it has become a function of God's multiple graces to us.

Deer to the last minute...

With all of the rapid growth of these first few teen years, meat for my resident carnivores has been a big deal. Budget is also a big deal and I am not an extreme couponer. Even if I was a coupon expert, there are not often coupons offered on things like ground beef, roasts, and tenderloins.

So I do what I can. I buy when meat is on sale. I stretch the meat by adding beans or cheaper cuts that require a little extra prep but still nourish. But the number one thing we do to afford meat is hunt deer. We depend on a minimum of 2 deer a year to help us through. We process our own deer as well so that we avoid that $75 fee of hanging, cutting, and packaging. It takes time, but we find the effort to be worth it.

I use venison in any recipe that calls for ground beef. If I'm making hamburgers, I will add in some ground chuck because the leanness of venison requires some fat to hold together. Husband will even make his own sausage and jerky with some of the cuts.

Certain cuts (tip roasts, tenderloins, & backstraps) we do not grind but freeze whole for grilling, crock pot, or dutch oven recipes. Our family has learned to appreciate eating game when beef is not affordable.

With such a high value in our home on having venison, I was getting quite nervous as the season ended and no deer had stocked my freezer. Between work and a truck that wouldn't work, Husband had not had the time nor resource to get out into the woods for the yearly hunting expedition.

Three days after the season ended in our area and with all factors finally in our favor (truck, work, weather) Husband and Nate took off for the southern region where deer were still in season. They vowed to live off of pop-tarts and beef stew and not return until deer were in the coolers. I wished them well and settled down to dependence upon the twice a day check in calls.

And the call came! Nate had snagged a deer that morning--a big doe. Big means lots of meat! I was thrilled. As was he. He's only hunted the past few years, but every year brings its thrills. One down meant one to go.

That night, the second call came. Number two deer was on his way to the cooler. Success at last. Down to the last minute of the season practically, but we will take it. And eat it.

My big guys are headed off....

to the mountains for Church Camp. When I was in youth group, our church camp was at the beach. I prefer the mountains. Wish I was in youth this week.

Not really, but almost.

These two, Chess and Pele, have been to overnight camp before with the Boy Scouts. This will be a whole different experience. I have mixed feelings and thoughts about youth group. My experiences were less than stellar and definitely gave me enough reason as a parent to put the kiebosh on the the whole thing for these guys.

In truth, we kept our boys out of the typical youth experience for some time, longer than most. It has only been this last year that we decided to allow them to participate in a Wednesday night activity and then also the Sunday morning class. We are not carrying the keys to a helicopter regarding our boys, but we do believe that we, and not a youth pastor and his interns, are responsible for the Christian training of our sons. So we stay involved by asking questions, observing the interactions, and following up where necessary whether with our sons or their teachers.

Then, of course, the new youth pastor, moved in with us this past November. He was waiting for his house to sell in S.C. where his wife and children were still living. We had a spare room and separate entrance so we offered them to him. Getting to know him and his philosophy of working with youth and their special quirks has been helpful in understanding and trusting our sons' involvement with the youth group.

When this opportunity for them to go to camp came up, we were grateful for the Lord's provision for them to attend. Now everything is packed from deodorant to toothpaste and shorts to bathing suits and towels to sleeping bags. I hope they come back with the majority of their things.

But mostly I am praying that this week is one of them learning more about themselves and the Lord in their lives as their King and Savior. That they will grow in their trust and assurance of the gospel for their daily lives. That they will be a blessing to those around them. That they will have fun, laugh, and maybe even dance at the costume party at week's end.

To the mountains they go, but may they return with more than just having had a mountaintop experience.

It's just a job,....

it's not an adventure.

Remember that old Army recruitment commercial where it showed buff young men and women scaling obstacles, driving tanks, on recon missions, watching radar screens, flying helicopters and the like? The narrator would say, "It's not just a job, it's an adventure!"

Hoo-rah!

Husband was in the Army for six years, when we were first married. After multiple deployments and training exercises and sleepless nights and bureaucratic frustrations, he came home one day and said, "It's just a job; it's not an adventure." This became our tagline for Army life as he fulfilled his commitment and changed careers.

I've recently taken a job. I've found myself quoting the same tagline as I pick through what this new schedule will look like, how we'll continue to homeschool, and how our lives will change. As I'm learning the new routines and rhythms of a situation that I would not have chosen for our family, I'm leaning heavily on the Lord's provision and sovereignty for the nooks and crannies that I cannot see all the recesses of, but I know that He can and does.

Of course, there will be adventure because the job is about working with people. There is always adventure where there are people. But right now as I learn the ins and outs, I am reminding myself, through the tagline, that this job, like every job, has definite limitations. There will be frustrations and ruts of habit; there will be interpersonal difficulties and misunderstandings; and there will be long days of weariness and overwhelming circumstances.

I can only do what the Lord gives me to do, in His strength and by His direction. Does the job bear eternal purpose? Inasmuch as we are eternally affected by how we view and treat one another, yes. But in the daily tasks, probably not.

In other words, my adventure will not be found in the crossing off of tasks and their accompanying minutiae. My adventure will be found in continual dependence upon the Lord for a godly heart and attitude towards all those with whom I have contact--both at work and continually at home as we learn these new routines and rhythms. I desire to reflect at multiple points the Lord's goodness and grace in my life to them--even in a situation that I would not have chosen but have been given.


That's the adventure. Everything else is just a job.

A nearly 15 year old....

washed all, ALL, A.L.L., of the dishes in the sink the other night of his own accord. I came home from a busy evening and thanked Husband for the gift. He told me that the nearly 15 year old had done the deed. After he had also cooked supper for his dad and brothers.

A moment to savor.

This son is helpful, do not misunderstand. I was not savoring the moment that he helped, rather the moment of seeing him step outside of the routine chore box to do what he was not required to do for the sake of another. And I was glad to be the "another." Earlier in the week he helped his dad with two different prescribed burning projects. Monitoring the fires. Putting out small jumps. Doing a man's job. And doing it well.

The moment reminded me that prayers and training and conversations about being a blessing to others do bear fruit. Somewhere, somehow, by God's grace, the seeds take root and ultimately bloom.

Even in a kitchen sink.

The New Year and all....

its pressures of new projects had me hankering for a fresh vision of cooking breakfasts. Some years ago I made the switch to cooking breakfast six days out of seven because we could not afford the milk and cereal that was otherwise being consumed by the pre-teen boys. Not only due to the amount they wanted to consume but also due to that amount still not being enough to fill them up past an hour and a half.

The children needed eggs! bacon! pancakes! sausage! fruit! muffins! and the like! The like meant cooking.

I had a fairly good selection of breakfast recipes which we tucked into without much transition trouble. Several things could be done ahead of time as well, which always helps with the morning grumble.

I found a recipe for homemade doughnuts a while back and tried it for the first time this morning. It was not a success. The dough was uber sticky and even though I rolled it out on a floured counter, per instructions,  the doughnut shapes did not lift up to make it into the hot oil with any triumph. Rather they stretched and tore and twisted themselves into odd shapes of confection. As they turned in the hot oil, I felt rather like a medieval torturer watching them writhe. And fry.

I gave up trying to make actual doughnuts with a hole in the middle and stuck to the holes part. The odd pieces of dough stayed just that---odd pieces of dough. Fried to a golden brown. Except for the ones that I burned black because I was busy fighting with the uber sticky dough. However, I reaffirmed the truth that cinnamon sugar and powdered sugar will make almost anything taste good.

The game at breakfast quickly became "Name Your Fried Dough Shape Before You Eat It." I heard wolverine, Nebraska, horseshoe, tibia, headless cougar, and a starfish with a missing arm as suggestions. Maybe homemade doughnuts are in my future, but it will have to be with a new recipe. I'll take suggestions.

Because the boys need doughnuts!

Before and after....

Husband's New Year's Eve project was a rousing success. Honestly, no duct tape involved even. A bit of gorilla glue to create one of the compartments, but truly what began as I thought a sure disaster of sawdust and drill bits and a skill saw ended in a great piece of furniture.

I trust Husband. I really do. That walk to trusting him has come with fear and trepidation at times, sheer will of obedience at others, and behind it all the certainty that God has gifted him for His own glory and I, as his wife, benefit from that. On Saturday I had that choice again. To stomp my feet at the disaster previously known as the den or say, "I trust you," and walk away.

I went through door number two on Saturday. Call it sanctification. That and I was able to blog about it and text with a few empathetic friends.

I wish that I had a before picture, but Husband is not a blogger and does not think of these things. Add to that the fact that I'm near illiterate with this blog when it comes to taking pictures, and well, there you have it. Who thinks of a before picture?

So I went through my photo library and came up with this picture of last year's Christmas. Chess is in the foreground showing off a prize, the Chairman is to his left, my hospital bed is in the right corner, and just behind you can see the TV cabinet as a before shot.

Now using your blog reading powers of imagination, imagine a large screen TV in front of that cabinet on a small table. Got it? Okay, now look at what Husband did to the old cabinet.

Amazing, huh? He essentially cut out the middle and created the three cubbies and left the three cabinets on the bottom. Here is the finished project with the large TV on top.

Yep, that's my man. Considering that the first TV cabinet was a cast off from some friends and Husband's creativity and skills gave us this cabinet, I'm thinking we saved near $1000 when it comes to the price of pressed board these days.

More valuable than the cost though was hearing Husband say later, "It all happened because you said you trusted me so I went with my instincts." Priceless.

Later, I'll tell you about one of my own projects. Prepare yourself to be underwhelmed.

End of year madness...

is happening here. But first the formalities:

Happy Thanksgiving! Ours was full of food for everyone and a chest cold for me. Blah, blah, blah.

Merry Christmas! Ours was full of food, presents, family, get togethers with friends and a chest cold for me. I'm running on a once every 30 days hack up a lung plan. I do not recommend it.

Now the original plan was for me to leisurely get up this morning, make some returns, and shop some end of year sales. I was good with that.

I returned home to discover that the den was in a state of flux. Major flux. Last year while I was in a hospital bed recovering from spinal fusion surgery, Husband bought a large screen television. It did not fit into the existing tv cabinet.

No problem. We simply put the thing on top of a table in front of the tv entertainment system that was housing the other multi-media things (VCR, DVD, stereo, Wii, etc.). And that is how it has remained since then. Until today.

Back to my return home. Husband actually said that he wished I had stayed out longer. Shopping, even. His plan, which he admitted he was making it up as he went along, was to dissemble the entertainment system and cut off the top to make a new tv stand/cabinet.

Which is approximately where we are right now. In the disassembly period.

There is probably some large metaphor for this happening on the last day of 2011 but I'm too busy breathing sawdust and wondering as to the outcome to figure it out for you. Bottom line, I trust Husband to figure it out. Some way, somehow, that stand will come together.

Because we have duct tape.

Happy New Year!

P.S. Because I'm a dork, I took a video instead of a picture. You get a quick glimpse of the GUY, though I didn't mean to, and you get to hear me clear my throat of sawdust.

Fun things this Friday....

 and the weekend will contain. Brought to you by the letter F.

1. Howling laughter with my homeschool moms' group. Sometimes we actually run an activity for the kiddos, but today the planned activity is about letting them run around so we can sit around and amuse ourselves with the funnies that come from choosing this lifestyle. I'm taking Depends.

2. Birthday lunch with a friend. Not mine but hers.

3. Pizza and movie night with my family tonight. The last couple of weeks we have had other couples over for fellowship, but tonight is all about our own fellowship. Our movie is Invincible.

4. Anticipation of Daylight Savings Fall Back. I may even move all the clocks tonight so we're ready. Who doesn't need an extra hour of sleep?

5. Reading and writing fiction. The October challenge I conducted spurred me to look into a writing course. I had previously downloaded a freebie from Kindle about a MFA in creative writing. I'm slowly working through the exercises and find them excellent for allowing my brain to breathe. A breathing brain is a good thing.

Hope your Friday and the weekend contains some fun, family, friends, and fellowship.

Thankful it is November.....

and I don't have to write every day anymore. I privately challenged myself to write every day from the middle of October until the end of October for the sake of writing. October is a tough month for me, and I knew I wouldn't have much to say until the boom of grief had its toll, but once it did, I knew I would have lots to say.

The whole trend of 31 days of all things hit me a bit like most trends do. Namely, is this something worth the investment of my time and bandwagon jumping? Um, no, it was not for me personally. I read some of the other 31 bloggers and benefited from their words, but as far as my blogging personality goes, I have to wear the jeans that fit me best.

Which is writing when I have words, writing when I want to practice writing, and writing for the sake of completing thoughts that otherwise would ping pong around inside of my head and make me inhospitable to the other house inhabitants.

Maybe I should write more. But I buck the trends that do not fit my natural vein. Thankful Thursday though, I love. I don't know if The Upward Call or Rebecca Writes gets first gratitude on it, but my thanks to both for their examples.

My comment that I'm thankful I don't have to write every day anymore is a jest to myself. I needed the personal challenge without the public announcement. I learned about my writing as I made myself do it. Most of my posts were done without editing and editing and editing. More stream of consciousness writing and it was a liberating exercise. Turning off the critic and writing as the words flowed helped me remember why I love writing and also warned me why blogging, for me, has very specific limits.

Of course, November is the month of that Nanowrinomososhopobo thing, or something like that, which also has great intentions. I am just not sure if those are my jeans or not. In the meantime, things I'm thankful for today:

Automated funds monitoring: while sometimes the banking system gets a bad rap, and sometimes rightly so, I was thankful to get a call this morning from my bank stating they had put a hold on my debit card because of suspicious transactions. I called immediately because the children need food to find out that someone else's children apparently needed clothes. To the tune of $2,010.00 from a fancy store in Canada. I confirmed that our shopping was primarily done at Goodwill these days and not online from Canada. The number was cancelled and a new card on the way. The automated system worked on our behalf and also for the merchant who did not, thankfully, lose any merchandise.

Soup: as temperatures drop and friends send great soup recipes, we are all tummy grateful. Still.

Bible study: I'm working through Acts right now and Chap. 14 was a favorite because of its instruction to remember that strength and encouragement come from the truth that through many hard things we will walk to enter the kingdom of God (v.22). Commitment to Christ and His work requires persevering through adversity. He is worthy of any and all we might undergo in this life. He is worthy.

Family: raising teens and a tween is a challenge bar none at times but the sweetness continues to persuade me of why the investment and the struggles are so valuable.

An annual fall ritual.....

occurs today: The Changing of the Sheets.

Our household enacts the summer sheets for summer days and winter sheets for winter days policy. Today is the changeover day. After we finish school this morning, the changeover will head up the list of afternoon activities. There is actually glee in the air. We've been putting off changeover day the last couple of weeks because the weather here, it likes to mess with our heads. And our temperatures. Just because we have a couple of days of temps in the 60's and evenings in the 40's, this does not guarantee that we will not return to temps in the 80's and evenings in the 60's.

So, we have endured by adding on extra blankets and wearing pajama pants instead of shorts, long sleeve t-shirts instead of short. But today is the day of changeover. The crisp cotton is coming off to be laundered and the cozy flannel is going on to be ready for tonight. The house was a brisk 58 degrees this morning (obviously we have not reached Turn On The Heat Day) and everyone was wishing for flannel sheets.

Today is the day. Giddy, I tell you. Because when fall finally does arrive, some of the sweating finally stops. Which is a good thing.

What are you doing for Monday?

A 5K in under 25 minutes...

while wearing navy blue canvas boat shoes. That's my son, Pele.

Yesterday I was telling the boys my plans for Saturday--to help out at a 5K race for Jay's Hope. I was to (wo)man the runners' snack food and drinks tables. The founder of Jay's Hope has been a close friend ever since she was a starry eyed newlywed and her first child, a daughter, was a colicky infant who had a smile to light up the sky. The daughter no longer has colic but still that smile. The family also contains Jay, born in 20001, and another son, a dimpled upcoming baseball star.

Jay died in 2006 from cancer. Jay's Hope, a foundation to support and improve the quality of life for kids with cancer and their families was born out of the grief that grieves with hope. Helping out at the Jay's Hope events is a way to remember Jay and celebrate the life that kids with cancer can have.

Pele promptly informed me that he wanted to race. He has not trained for a 5K. Although he runs weekly with soccer. The only other 5K that he has participated in was in Montreat, NC, over July 4th. Where he ran up a mountain and then back down. He did that in about 28 minutes. He would have run it faster but he stopped to take his inhaler for his asthma.

So we got up at o'dark early this morning to go to the race. I asked him about the shoes, but the navy blue canvas boat shoes were what he wanted to wear. He wore the race t-shirt and camo shorts. He looked like a kid headed to hang out with friends, not like he was about to run a 5K. And run he did. He started out with a friend who eventually told him to quit waiting for her and run on. And just under 25 minutes he came across the finish line. He placed third in his age group.

Imagine what he could have done with running shoes at full throttle. Boggles my mind.

He's an amazing kid. I'm thanking God for him today--his God-given strengths and his heart for living life full out.

Four things I told.....

the boys this week:

1) You're great kids, and I'm grateful God made me your mom.

2) Be an encourager to your brother and not someone who discourages.

3) Quit messing around and finish your work.

4) Tag! You're it! (What we play when one of us is sneezing and wants to "pass" it on to another.)

This was a good week of sweetness in parenting these teens and tween. We strive to keep a balance in our home between the correction and the commendation. Some weeks that is more easily achieved. Entirely dependent I am sure upon both my relationship to the Lord and theirs.

In other words, when we are all listening to His instruction, things just run more smoothly.

Imagine that.

This week I thought and talked about the days when our lives were in lockdown mode. Lockdown because I had kids who did not obey me and they had a mom who did not have self-control. Trips to the grocery store or playdates or church were nightmarish. There was a lot of anger, a great deal of frustration, and very little peace. A spiritual mentor came alongside of me in those days and told me to get myself together, essentially. She said I had to acquire a future view for what those little boys would turn into one day. She warned me that a 3-year-old that runs away from my instructions is not nearly as dangerous as a 13-year-old who runs away from my instructions.

Her words were the chastening I needed to begin to study how the Lord would have me discipline and, most importantly, Biblically respond to my children instead of sinfully react. I took up that charge, not perfectly, but with a heart repentant towards the Lord and my children for my anger. He changed me. And lo and behold, as He changed me, He *changed* my children.

Peace came to our home. Not overnight. Not without mistakes. But gradually as peace came into our lives through Biblical instruction and God-dependence, our family began to reap sweetness out of our interactions. I saw His words bear fruit in my life and then in theirs.

We're still sinners. No mistaking that. But we're sinners now who will pray together for one another's repentance and encouragement and perseverance. And we rejoice with one another when we see God answer those prayers.

Those early days were mind bending and heartbreaking. I wondered if I, or we, would ever leave the house to enjoy the "outside" or even to be productive members of society. I wondered if I would ever enjoy my kids. I am gratified to say today that God restored and rebuilt us. He did not see us as irrecoverable in our relationships with Him or each other. He redeemed what our sins would have trashed.

To Him be the glory!

Era of soup...

or what we like to eat when it is not 90 million degrees outside. Because living here in Hotter Than, GA, means we get to experience summer for nearly 7 months, the boys look forward to two events: the first night of soup and the first night for a fire. Usually the two are separated by about a month because Husband and I believe it should be less than 50 degrees outside before setting a fire. Soup, however, can be served once it hits the 60's.

My boys have always been great soup eaters. This includes stews and chilis. I never thought about most kids not preferring soup probably because we've always kept a "I cooked it, you'll eat it," rule around here. I am your mother not your short order cook. So the boys have learned to enjoy lots of soups.

Our favorites are:

1) Corn crab chowder
2) 15 bean soup
3) Cheeseburger soup
4) Chicken dumpling soup
5) Tomato soup with a twist
6) Taco soup
7) Turkey soup
8 )Chili
9) Mushroom soup
10) Beef stew

Whenever I make soup for us, I always make a double, sometimes triple, batch. It is too easy of a meal to not put away some extra for freezing and pulling out later for lunches or dinnertime pinches. As long as I have great crusty bread for the side, I do not hear sighs when soup time is announced.

We are always looking for new soup recipes. I have some new ones to try this year but would love your input. What are some of your family's favorites? And if I have listed one you are interested in, let me know in the comments and I'll send you the recipe.

Car mechanics 101....

is in full swing this fall. Earlier I wrote about the boys' inherited vehicle from my brother-in-law. The car has been the center of much discussion and many dreams. Some weeks ago Pele came inside from sitting in the car and told me,"Mom, I've seen my future self." "How did your future self look?" "Well, he looks good. A bit taller though."

Be still my heart.

So far they have learned to replace a radiator hose, flush and fill the radiator, refill and recharge the battery, clean the battery posts, replace the air filter, blow out the windshield washer tubes, refill the windshield washer fluid, and, of course, the time honored wash and wax treatment. Husband is the instructor that would make Mr. Miagi proud.

Truly, be still my heart.

I recognize that while teaching the boys these life skills is essential to their maturity, teaching the boys these life skills means they are that much closer to maturity. The bittersweetness presses my heart to a pulp some days. Today I was reminiscing about when I had my first back surgery and from my bed rest position taught my then 10-year-old how to cook grilled cheese sandwiches for his then 9 and 7-year-old brothers. Now that former 10-year-old is the 14-year-old washing and waxing his car.

Whereas I used to count the days until certain things would be over--sleepless nights, teething, diapering, potty training--now I am counting the days I have left for filling up their heads and hearts with the necessaries for life. That list seems to grow longer even while my days grow shorter.

Be still my heart, truly.

Treasures and hearts....

are a topic around here lately.

The Chairman of the Board, youngest son, is a natural born collector. If his mother gave into his innate desires, the entire house would be top to bottom collections of rocks, arrow head points, knives, stamps, coins, football cards, and the like. The collections we have allowed him to pursue are coins, knives, and arrow head points. He studies each of these collections and is constantly on the lookout for ways to add to them.

Pele is a natural born artist. He studies drawing. He practices drawing. He doodles for drawing. He collects drawings. He reads about drawing. He plans on purchases for drawing paper, ink, pens, pencils, and all manner of drawing supplies. If we can't find him otherwise in the house, we will find him at his drawing table--drawing.

Chess is a natural born strategist. Hence his nickname "Chess." He studies chess. He practices chess. He creates chess sets out of Legos. He reads about chess. He regularly challenges his brothers to games of chess and is quick to teach anyone he can about the game--so he can play them in chess. He researches and plans on which classic set of chess he wants to buy next.

Our sermon this morning was from Mt. 6:19-24 about our hearts and our treasures. The topic at hand for adults centers on money, usually. For kids who do not earn an income, the topic at lunch discussion centered around how they choose to spend their time and what are the habits developing in their lives. As all three more regularly earn money at odd jobs and landscaping work, their income is gravitating to the areas where their hearts are most fondly occupied.

So we talked about the purpose of money as God's provision to His people and His purpose for us in stewardship as trustees of His generosity. We talked about the necessity of recognizing frivolous expenses, temporal expenses, and eternal expenses. Maybe most importantly we asked them to develop the habit of examining their hearts not only to know where their treasure is but also to beware what idols are creeping in.

Small steps of training regarding small choices today that can result in big consequences tomorrow, both temporal and eternal. Lunch was physically only the refrigerator's leftovers, but spiritually it was a feast of His good Word.