seven quick takes - 7 children style

1. Radar's getting in more shifts at her new job.  It's strange putting little boys to bed & watching the clock for my big girl to get off work.  Motherhood is soul stretching. 

2.  Softie - at 13, you've grown taller than me, and your sweet softie nature swings in tempestuous little bursts of impatience, heartbreaking adoration for baby brothers and insightful hilarity behind every eyebrow cock brought on by endless inside jokes.  i can't tear my eyes off you - you're riveting. 

3. Sparkling eyes - i know you wanna run in the sun, frolick with friends and pretend that those exams aren't coming... does it help that i wanna do that too?  Your strengths are peeking at me behind those sparkling eyes - beyond what you see as the boredom of school books.  These years are short - learn with me, baby... then you can fly, k? 

4. Chew man - (working on a report about snakes), "Mom, i looked up fighting and all this page talks about is mating... and i'm positive that i don't want to write about mating."
"Well, hon, in the wild, lots of animals will fight *over* their mates..."
"Oh, well, that's ok then..."

5. Missy Moo - eight suits her. 

6.  Sunshine boy - He's awesome.  Need i say more?

7. Thunder - Honey boy, i'm sure proud of you for showing the dexterity and coordination required to learn how to open doors... but i have to admit, my heart sank just a tiny bit, knowing you can now escape to the great outdoors or barge in on my showers at will.

never get tired

i know i've recently blogged about this, but i feel heavy, heavy, heavy... that i need to write about it again. 
Believers, Christians, Christ-Followers;
We can't ever, ever, ever - get tired of reiterating God's love for mankind.  In this life, we will have trouble.  We will get called names (& sometimes we'll deserve them) & the name of God will be mocked.  We'll run into the same arguments over and over and over again... & it's tempting to shut our eyes & ears to the hurting individuals suffering (or not seeming to suffer at all) from living apart from God.  Christians have a reputation for "intolerance", "bigotry", and "hatred"... (both earned... & often unearned).
Don't live up to that reputation... Don't give in to the urge to 'snap' - to say something sarcastic and unloving - to fail to represent the Loving Father who sends us out into the world...
Let those labels wash off you - refuse to wear them - gently, relentlessly and tirelessly - put on the garments of love. 
i don't know how this looks.  i don't.  When inviting others to participate in 40 days of prayer for an end to abortion is "hate speech" - or when reading the Bible to my little ones is 'indoctrinating ignorance' - or when i was told that i shouldn't view my premarital sex as sin, but instead i should celebrate my sexual freedom... i know that there are differences in understanding that are hurtful, harmful and that are separating Christians from the world around them at an alarming rate.  The mere mention of words like homosexuality and abortion raise temperatures - & we forget... that Jesus loves the people... the individuals... that struggle with the ramifications of our broken world.  Sometimes it's tempting to paint with broad strokes - (& yet we hate being painted in that same way...)  It's tempting to just ignore the issues over which the battle currently rages (can't we just focus on the cute little baby in the manger??)
i want to understand more.  i want to bring more comfort, i want to be an ambassador for truth, but i feel certain in all this... that i'm not to tire of love.  i'm not to tire of biting my tongue if i feel angry, of speaking truth vulnerably, gently and with compassion.  If i'm asked to explain it again?  i wanna just explain it again. 
i'm only a sinner, saved by grace.  My Father so tenderly exposes the areas in my life that are rotting, because i choose to live my life in communion with Him... there are others that don't have that communion - & it's no surprise that the lie continues - calling evil good and good evil, or that so often we put darkness for light and light for darkness, we put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter. Isn't this generation wise in our own eyes and clever in our own sight? (isaiah 5)
i was watching a blogger this week carefully navigating a topic she has written about countless times - there is research, understanding and wisdom behind her posts - but then the comments will flow - the same comments she would get when she would originally blog on this topic *years* ago... the comments that twist her words & meaning - no matter how clearly she'd write.  She must sometimes be tempted to think that in all these years, no ground at all has been covered.  But we don't always get to see the fruit that grows from our faithful labour of sowing...
(Oh, Father, help me to be faithful!)
And so i'll say it again and again...
God loves you. 
He LOVES you. 
My Father God?  He loves YOU. 
It's the starting and ending of every contentious conversation, it's the blanket swaddled over the bandaged wounds, it's the water to the thirsty and the bread to the hungry. 
You are the precious child of the Father. 
Run to Him. 

save me from myself

Gagey has always been an easy boy.  He was born laid back - he's happy, soft hearted and shy.  We tease our little boys that Gagey is Rainbow and the Ephraim is Thunder... - The names seem to fit most days.  They're kind of an awesome little matched set, these 2 little bonus boys, and not a day goes by that i don't realize how very, very blessed i am that they're here. 
At Sunday School, Gagey will only stay if Ephraim will stay with him, often crying to me, "i need Ephraim, momma, i need him!"
The other day, when Neil took the bigger 5 skiing and we had a snuggly day at home, we watched, "Wall-E" & when it got to the scary part, Gagey turned to his little brother and said, "Ephraim, can we hold hands?"
"No." Ephraim responded.
A few minutes passed and Gagey turned to his tiny brother again...
"Ephraim... can i please snuggle you?"
"Yes." came the non-plussed answer. 
You can see why i'm always caught up in spasms of cuteness attacks, can't you?
This week, we had a playdate at a friend's house.  This little friend is right in between my boys - & he had fun toys that my boys had never seen before... & right from when we got there, for reasons that i can't quite figure out, Gage felt right at home.  He had never been there before - but i have never seen him so warm, boisterous (outside of his own environment) & kinda crazy.  He played till he was in a little frenzy.  There was water all over the floor from the water table, they had pulled out every kind of play food from the play kitchen and wreaked havoc on my friend's orderly home. 
When we got home, he was exhausted - and it came out in several tearful little outbursts... He had obviously worn himself out prying himself out of his tight little shell to have so much fun with his friend - & by the time supper rolled around, he had been in trouble at least a half a dozen times, and was curled up in a little ball on the couch in confused tears. 
i let supper simmer...
& i pulled that great big boy up on my lap. 
i totally *get* his confusion over his own behaviour...
i shushed & comforted & let him wet my shoulder with his tears while he cried loudly, "Why does no one like me?"
"Honey boo... everyone likes you... you're just a little undone right now, and you can't quite figure out how to stop your world from spinning.  Mama's just gonna hold you till it stops."
& i held him like a little baby in my arms - & i could feel the exhaustion brought on by extroverted behaviour on an introverted little boy... His little heart pounded next to mine & still we held on & he pressed in close to me while i just cuddled him close...
& it reminded me - just a tiny bit - how sometimes my Father wants to save me from my own self.  He wants to take me in His arms when i'm tired & vulnerable & when i look like i'm "gonna blow"... He wants to soothe, shush & keep my world from spinning out of control too...
All i gotta do is run to His arms. 
i don't have to wait till i'm curled in a ball, spent, and out of control...
i can come with whatever painful little bits i'm carrying around in my pockets.
& He is always faithful...
to save me from my own self. 

lunch break - fed

It was one of those lunch times where we needed to be noisy.  We had a quiet, studious morning (i sobbed through the chapter of Prince Caspian where nobody believes Lucy that she sees Aslan and Aslan tells her that she must follow Him even if nobody else does...)
We did math, spelling... big kids snuck off to their rooms to do online courses, little boys roamed around making themselves a distraction and finding willing playmates...
Finally, it was lunch.
Ephraim emphatically insisted that all his siblings fold their hands and be silent till he was done his long laborious prayer... amidst sighs and moans of anticipation from a crowd of hungry children, his little voice chirruped, "An' momma, an' dardar, an' ephyum, an' food... (pause)  HANDS!!!  RORO!!  HANDS!!!"  (Hands are obediently folded), "An' daddy, an' noanie, an' monny..."
Then goofyness prevailed, little bodies laughed and danced and ate.  It was one of those lunches that turns a "seven" day into a "ten". Charter had ripped off his shirt to match his shirtless little brothers & was teasing his sisters that he was, "eye candy".  The girlies were rolling their eyes teasing him that he might one day be... if he ever learned some semblance of personal hygiene. 
Suddenly Peyton was acting out a story from the table & my ears perked up from the sink where i was washing the dishes...
"& i'll jump on my horse and say, 'Hey ol' boy!  i'll call you Thunder!!'  C'mon, Bullet, let's fly!"
Cai & i made eye contact & burst out laughing - & in just that twinkling, i was so glad that i had all my chickies at home for so many, many lunches.  Sometimes i bemoan the things that i imagine to myself that they're missing - being homeschooled... They don't get enough team sports!!  Their writing isn't what it should be!!  Those little boys are too distracting & my students too willing to be distracted!!! & on & on it goes...

But this friendly little circle? 

This is part of the good stuff... this is why i'm doing this... The tears over Aslan's bewildering decision not to be seen, the conversation over the book of John this morning, the prayers for our election and those running for office - these are some of the times that i feel sure of my course and keep my hand to the tiller when the wind blows strong. 

& my prayer comes after all the food is consumed and my little ones begin to pick up the threads of afternoon chores, school subjects and plans to sneak out while mama blogs... It's breathed without words, but swaddled in gratitude... for lunch breaks that feed a homeschooling mama.  (john 4:34)

7 quick takes - volume 9

1. Cai is fretting about putting together her first resume.  "They'll only scan it for an average of 20 seconds.  i need to make it concise and still have it make an impression..."
From the kitchen Charter calls out, "Did you add your top ten movies?"
(ps - They hired her on the spot.  That's my girl.)

2. Neil is heading out to his office & Sloan is standing next to him, "Seeya later pig... or cow... or whatever you are..."
Sloanie looks at him, shocked, and i glance up at him from the couch, equally shocked... There's an awkward silence...
"Um, what's on your sweatshirt?"
"It's a giraffe, dad."
"Oh." (Starts laughing hysterically), "Are you always going to remember the special day when dad called you both a pig and a cow?"

3.  i think i've decided to never cut Ephraim's hair.  It can grow to his ankles for all i care... it's just too darn cute. 

4.  i have formed a bad habit in this hard year... & it's a habit of not choosing joy.  i'm giving myself a 30 day challenge to change that.  It's interesting to make an effort to steer my mind away from the mind numbing tough thoughts - even if it's just for a month - & choose joy.  i'm still trying to figure out how this all fits in with being authentic - but even if i end up faking it a bit for a month, maybe i'll be able to re-route some of these pathways in my brain that are leading me places i don't need to go.  (Day 14 & i think i've only had 2 tougher days... might be easier than i thought - maybe i'll have to extend it for an extra month... :) 

5.  So, i asked Neil to join me on my 30 day journey.  It's almost harder for him 'cause while i'm in some heart-pain... he's in physical pain most days.  He doesn't talk about it a lot, so i tend to not think about it a lot, but most mornings he can hardly stand up when he gets out of bed... pain doesn't naturally lead to joy, does it?  But it might make for an interesting month for us both. 

6.  After we decided to embark on a joy journey, we went for coffee.  We got Tim Horton's english toffees & then we went for a drive.  "Where're we going?" i ask. 
"We're going to look through a show home..." he answered. 
"This is the best day of my life."
He grins at me.
"i'm good at this game."
"You sure are." he smiles & i almost believe him.

7.  i can always pick out Cai's jeans immediately when i'm sorting the laundry.  Hers are the ones that are always still buttoned up :)  Scrawny 15 year olds are cute.

old enough

My tiniest girlie is turning eight. 
i have honestly been soaking in these last sweet days of seven... letting her climb on my lap more, opening my arms a little more instead of pushing her away because she's getting too long... too heavy. 
Fourth daughter, some things we've figured out by now.  One has been a tentative time line for girls who want glitter in their ear lobes & their eighth birthday is when they're "allowed" to get them pierced. 
*ouch*! 
Two out of the previous three got their ears pierced, the third says, "not now, not ever..." but little Molls, my fourth, is chomping at the bit to get this little rite of passage passed. 
i went to the store to find out about getting them done & checked out the little baubly earrings - birth stones, hello kitty, tiny metal balls...
"& remember," the friendly lady's voice chimed at me, "If she's under 16, we'll need the parent's photo identification & a signature on a waiver form!"
"Sure." i smiled as i left the store...
& then it occurred to me. 
This is the country we live in.  Where children 15 & under need parental photo identification and a signature on a legally binding document to get their child's ears pierced (not that i think this is a bad idea....)
But that these same little girls - minors in Canada - can go to an abortion clinic and require no parental notification to abort their tiny babies...
Something is off here. 
We don't trust a child with a decision to poke holes in their ears, but when it comes to an invasive surgery that will kill their offspring in the womb... (the grandchild of the parents who needed to sign a waiver for an ear piercing appointment)... we put the burden entirely on her delicate shoulders? 
& i know that it's a reminder to mamas (& daddies)... know your child...
But i know too, the shame that hits when your pregnancy is unplanned.  i know the voices that come out of the woodwork to counsel death.  i know... that i know... that i know... that many, many, many little lives have been lost because an abortion seemed like an easier option than telling the truth to parents who would be disappointed.
i've said it before, but it hit me again: Canada's stance on abortion is extreme & nothing will change it until our hearts are softened...
Our daughters are being raised in a Canada that sees life as disposable.  They're being raised in a Canada that gives no rights to the unborn - at any stage of pregnancy.  Our daughters are being saturated in a culture that tells them that they have the right to end the life of another living human being... if that human being is unwanted.  & they're also being raised in a Canada that is ever shifting to a culture of death - embracing euthanasia, and allowing those among us who are weak... to come to see their lives as lives without value. 
It's up to us as parents to talk back to culture, to raise them to see Truth, and to love God.
Change our hearts, Father.
*********************************
& dear missy moo:
i love you.  i'm sorry for such a somber birthday post.  Maybe i will do better before your big day, but if not - know that your mama cares so deeply about the tiny woman that you are growing into.  i praise God for His faithfulness in raising you to be such a fabulous little lady.  You are a precious jewel. 
mama

He was despised and rejected

A facebook friend posted this on his wall:

A  Franciscan benediction

May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that you may live deep within your heart.
May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.
May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger, and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and turn their pain into joy.
And may God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in the world, so that you can do what others claim cannot be done to bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.
Amen

& i smiled & added my amen too.
 
Neil is often teasing me - that for someone so sensitive to rejection, i sure picked a tough topic to be passionate about, (in my compassion for the unborn).  It seems like being a Christian these days opens you up to all kinds of false accusations of intolerance, hatred, ignorance and fear... & it's hard to silence your desire to defend yourself, and to search only for Truth amidst  the anger and hurt that pervades our current cultural climate. 
The littles & i have been reading Job this past while... & it struck me this time through - how hard it must have been for Job to lose, (on top of everything else), his spotless reputation.  Before, he had been the kind of guy who was sought out for his opinions... he was the kind who cared for the fatherless and the poor, he was the kind of guy who offered sacrifices for his kids, "in case they sinned" while he wasn't watching... & suddenly - when he was afflicted - everyone was quick to believe that he must have done something wrong.  i don't think that part of the story had ever been impressed on me before... i thought of the disappointment of losing riches, the grief of losing children, the agony of the loss of physical health... but to lose your reputation too on top of it all, knowing that you had done nothing to deserve it - that must've stunk. 
Jesus was no stranger to false accusations either... &  He was perfect, sinless... a spotless sacrificial lamb...  & it wasn't by accident that he was attacked in every possible way - physically, spiritually, mentally - his reputation was scorned & even now, i hear people scoff at my King - & mock Him for claiming to be the son of God.  It was prophesied years before he was even born, that this was going to be his fate... It says in Isaiah 53,
³ He was despised and rejected by mankind,
a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.
⁴ Surely he took up our pain
and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
stricken by him, and afflicted.

& now... i know that sometimes the half-truths would be easier to swallow.  i see so many who, like me, are uncomfortable with rejection & false accusations.  We wanna bend - to say, "Yes well... maybe that's not sin then... for you... in your circumstance.  i don't want you to hurt so i'll give you a comforting half-truth and in return you'll not call me a bigot, misogynist, hateful, hurtful Christian..."
But no...
Our job is to gently, lovingly - humbly... speak truth... despite the labels, despite the rejection, despite the discomfort. 
i'm sure that's how God must feel when He corrects us.  It's humbling as a child to be taken out of a situation where you're making a little fool of yourself (i'm remembering my childhood more than my children's) - & corrected... & i know it has been embarrassing as an adult, to have my bad behaviour become so obvious when God has (in His great mercy) corrected me.  But God offers us direction & correction because He loves us and He wants to protect us.  He doesn't want a woman to live in grovelling fear & shame for the rest of her life over the heartbreaking decision of abortion, but He wants to bring her Home, to set her apart, He longs to protect us from our own selves & our own evil choices. 
So, today i took it as a tiny blessing when i read that Franciscan Benediction above,  that can i see that i *do* have that ounce of foolishness that would allow me to believe that maybe God can use me to make a small difference in this world... & so i'll take up my cross & follow.

tweaking our sorrows

i realized something the other day - in my search for JOY. 
i realized that something that is stealing my joy is my tendency to want to "tweak" my sorrows. 
"Oh, God - i could handle this sorrow... if only i didn't have to deal with X... Could you substitute illness instead of rejection?  Physical pain for emotional hurt?  i'll take humility, but leave me my reputation?"
It doesn't matter what kind of sorrow we're given - you can't compare or measure... a friend of mine told me that her husband who is wheelchair bound had said, "i can handle the chair... but i wish i could use my hands..."
& isn't that how it is in our pain? 
We look for a little relief - some way that would make our circumstances tolerable, more bearable, a little easier...
For me... i went through my little list of sorrows in my head & saw that i kept thinking, "i could handle this, if only..."
& i spent so much time thinking about the "if only"... that i was missing the reality - that i can't tweak my sorrows.  They were measured out for me in the exact number and order that they were intended. 
Sitting in the Good Friday service at church, with everyone around me standing, i was listening to the decades married couple singing behind me.  Their voices were soft, but i could hear every breath and promise as they sang the words of faith in unison.  The sound of their voices blessed me - with words of the old story that had brought us together on this Friday morning... knowing that Sunday comes.  The woman beside me quit singing - & softly cried until i thought i would burst if i didn't grab her & cry with her... but she was older with fancy diamonds on her hands... & i was too shy... & the pastor was already beginning to speak - so instead i just prayed for us both - to be able to receive without tweaking - the faith building tests that our Father has provided. 
So no more... no more, "i could have handled this better if..." 
More of Him, less of me... the whole, 'i can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.'  That's the scripture that i'm gonna allow to reverberate truth through me this year. 

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds,  because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.  Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.  If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. - james1:2-5

letting the neighbours in

Charter brought a friend over.  It was the bewitching "cookie hour" - y'know that time of day when everyone is hungry and roaming the kitchen getting underfoot as you're trying to get supper on the table.  The house quickly slides into a disgraceful state & the noise level climbs - babies cry, teens wanna listen to music & the middlies get hyper.  The afternoon sun hits all your back windows in the thick of this so that you can see every speck of dust on your floor and every tiny finger print on every surface is so distinct - you could almost identify the difference between a grease smudge and a honey smudge if you could get your eyes to focus in your mid-afternoon brain-fog. 
i was late getting supper into the oven & had my big girls helping me, peeling potatoes and carrots while Peyton cheerfully dj'd our afternoon, pumping Abba, Fiddler on the Roof and whatever else is in our current household top 40 through our house speakers. 
It was getting out of control... & i knew it was when i heard one girl laugh, "Ahahahaa... It's a good thing Dad's not here."  (Dad = the noise police). 
i tried to flick the music a little softer, but their feet were pounding as they danced - hair flinging over shoulders.  i glanced at Charter's friend - who comes from a family with 2 children - and wondered if i was gonna get in trouble for letting them listen to something inappropriate... (dang - why do all the songs on the radio these days have to have swears in them??)  i furrowed my brows... what must he think of our cookie hour chaos?  i imagined his mama pulling their dinner out of the oven with classical music wafting through the house... her two boys - showered & fully clothed - (Ephraim is wearing his undies & the snot is flowing down his sweet little chin...)  What a little side show we must be to the little ones from our neighbourhood who come in when i'm not ready - and see the dirty underbelly of a family of 9...
Finally - it was as if we had entered the frenzy stage... i had to literally duck in my own kitchen and grab the baby who had stumbled under the dancing hoofs of the others - someone was banging erratically on the piano - & i swear every child was shouting out every word in ecstatic glee to the chorus of "the hamster dance"... i was sure that Neil could hear us in Saskatchewan & i was going to get an irritated text about it any moment. 
The song ended, and the littles collapsed in giggling heaps - i grabbed the volume knob and gave it a hefty turn to the left. 
In that tiny moment of calm, Charter's friend - as if to assuage my worry said, "You guys think this is crazy?  You should see my house... our dog can dance." 
Is it bad that i'm relieved he wasn't impressed? 
But y'know as much as i suck at "people"... i *know* beyond a shadow of a doubt that people are important. 
i wanna be that mama that always welcomes another pair of feet under her table. 
i wanna have the house where the children want to be.
i wanna be the house where there might be chaos, but there's love... where there might be mess, but there's laughter, where there might be tears, but there's forgiveness & relationship. 
So throw wide the doors that would keep curious eyes out & the fear & shyness that would try to keep a tight reign on mama's little kingdom. 
We've got a love to share & it won't be shared if we don't ever let the neighbours in. 
**********************************88
ps - i want to clarify that this isn't my reflex.  My reflex is to tell my little ones friends to go home.  My reflex is to say, "not today... not right now... can we not have anyone over?  Ever?"  But every year, i get a little better, a little more intentional, a little softer to the ones that my Father gently brings to my door.  i'm a slow-poke, but i'm learning stretching and growing - and grateful for my Papa who is showing me how...

here i am to worship

i lead the music at our church sometimes...
Having to discipline myself to come to my piano - to work, to pray, to weep, to sing - to prepare to lead, has been a huge blessing to me.  Especially in these past months when my inclination might be to let silence reign.  The first notes & chords are often tentative - but then i find that i can't help but to be drawn in to sincere praise & worship of my King. 
Today - i'm getting this sore throat & i'm tired & neil's gone again... but i pulled out music - sifting, sorting, praising... & then i started to sing one old song.  & even now, i feel the tug in my very soul as i think about the words...

o... how i love Jesus...

& that's just what it comes down to isn't it? 
i love Him - because He's worthy...
& i believe that He loves me & has allowed nothing to separate us. 
Nothing. 
i love that scripture, "For i am convinced... that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

i'm His girl.

Resting in that today. 

behind the beat

i'm that kind of a musician who defaults to behind the beat... Y'know there are some who anticipate, or who remain rigid to the rhythm of the piece of music played - but when i play with a rhythm section who knows what they're about... my inclination is to lean back - kind of like that game of, "trust" where you fall back & count on the others to catch you. 
i was thinking about this the other day when i was listening to the radio & one vocalist was lazily leaning back on the rhythm of the song.  i could picture her in my head - leaning back until the music caught her as she floated gently backwards - landing on the beat & carried along by it in kind of a woozy gentle melodic throb. 
i think playing behind the beat is my default in life too.  Everything is always happening too fast for me.  Neil makes quick decisions - and i need to think and absorb.  i'll let the time get away on me - and need to consciously force myself to watch the metronome clock - so that i don't get too far behind. 
& then on years like this one... the rhythm hardly means anything at all... & the whole song becomes rubato... all aching melody - single notes extended & others nearly neglected in this strange grieving tune. 
i'm leaning back... way back... & waiting for the rhythm section to come in.  Rescue me, throbbing pulse of real life,  let me feel the swing of the music as it shifts into a different interlude and i'm carried into a different, less painful - section of my opus.