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Being a mom of boys. . . Sometimes the things I find are funny.
Chess pieces in the dishwasher. Robert's socks on the new baby's legs. A few "pet" wasps in a plastic food container. Rocks in the freezer. Chips on the floor next to the bed. Lots of interesting and unusual things (and sometimes live things) in pockets. And sometimes dead things in pockets - after they've gone through the washer and drier.
But sometimes it's not just the boys who do funny things. The toad on the sheep? That was the girl's thing.
Morgan caught a grand toad the other day. She has no problem with slimy things or anything reptile. Thank you, Shelton, I'm sure for the lessons on toad catching.
Anyway, she caught this grand toad and 'he' quickly became her pal. She adored him. I have a tendency to want to say "wash hands" over and over. But I refused. After all, you are only a child once. We'll wash before we go inside. When you are grown you don't typically catch toads for fun... nor squeeze them in delight and look at their every little detail.
So, be a kid, I thought.
I kept thinking about the toad-to-the-prince story as Morgan delighted in her find. I don't so much believe in there being a "prince" out there for her - but I do think there is a knight. Not a "white knight." No, but I pray for a knight that is in the battle, realized life is a battle and he must fight - not sitting in a castle all protected from the war that rages - not one who hides in the trenches...
A knight who is desiring to conquer the flesh and has his heart set on winning. . . for the glory of God - a knight who is not proud, but knows there is a KING in which he fights for, lives for. King Jesus.
Each night I pray over my daughters as they snuggle in bed, "God I ask three things for them... Lord help them to love you with all their heart, protect them all of their days, and Lord, prepare for them a husband who loves Jesus with all his heart."
It's rather simplistic I know. But it bottom-lines it and I cry out to God for it.
The other night as I was tucking them in and was about to pray what I always pray, Morgan asked, "Mom, how will I know if a man loves Jesus?"
My mind raced. This should be an easy question to answer. But then I felt my forehead scrunch a bit to ponder how I would answer her. I knew the answer would need to be simple because after all, she's five.
Then this just came out: "You'll know because he will love you like daddy loves you and daddy loves you unselfishly, just as you are. Daddy is always looking to see how he can give to you, not take from you. And you'll know because he will want to, and he will, spend time in the presence of the Lord. He will desire to spend time with Jesus like your daddy does."
As I went to bed that night, I thought I might have answered her wrong. I thought I could have said something different, something more, said a whole lot more. But for then, that was the answer that came. And I know this is just the beginning of such discussions.
When I asked Morgan what she named her grand toad she replied, "I've named him "Little Soldier."
~
And I do believe these are the easy days.
The days where the problems that I face are chess pieces in the dishwasher and nails that were in the boys' pockets being stuck in the side of my washing machine so that it won't turn round anymore (you'd think I was on top of things enough to empty pockets before I load the wash - but no, I still forget). . .
"Problems" like little girls who catch toads and squeeze them and hold them close, four year old boys who don't quite make it to the bathroom in time, a toddler who colored her feet yellow and pink with my craft markers, a darling baby with days and nights still mixed up, no time for a shower or make-up. . .
"Problems" like having a car that smells like a farm, only worse. And not a mirror, window, door in the house that is not daily smudged with finger prints.
One day, soon - these seven children will be well on their way to be older instead of being these younger ages. And the things I call "complicated" or "challenging" about my days now, will seem kind of little I think.
Last night we went to a park in town. We walked a lot and then the children climbed on trees that had fallen down and then we all went to the park equipment. We typically would be out playing on the park along with them, but we are sleep deprived a bit after this past week, and Robert and I found ourselves sitting close on the park bench, relaxed and taking in the evening breeze that blew through the shaded area. . .
. . . counting four blue shirts the boys had on and two little black sunsuits the girls were in over and over to make sure everyone was counted for. Lakelyn was loving being outdoors just looking at the trees and sky above her. We were pretty much the only ones at the park since it was about 8pm.
I nestled up against Robert's arm around me. I couldn't help but find that each little thing I deal with each and everyday with the seven children is so worth it all to me. I smiled as I watched the children all running around and trying the different things. They love the simple things in life and are so easily pleased.
This is just a season - this time when they are young. This season in motherhood. It's okay to lay things aside. It's okay that hobbies are having to go on the back burner. It's okay that I don't get a shower everyday and can't always look like I'd like. It's okay that my washer has nails stuck in it. Or that the floor under the dining room table can't be kept clean more than an hour.
It's okay that things get ruined. Or that I don't get sleep like I think I need. Or that I don't have time to read other people's blogs. Or even have time to spell check the posts I write here. Or that my car smells like a pig pen. Or that I found a Wendy's frosty under one of the seats. . . days after I know I bought those for the children.
It's okay that I have rocks in my freezer and footprints (yes!) in my refrigerator. And that when I walk out the back door I get sprayed with the hose (accidently) since after all, the boys are attempting to either water the grass, fill up water balloons, or lately, spraying wasps off the roof near the door.
It's okay that everything below four feet high at the house has finger prints on it each day. It's okay that I don't have time to do scrapbooking. Or time to talk on the phone. Or time to look at design magazines. Or go to a movie. It's fine that everyone is ready for church and looks great but me when we walk in for service.
It's okay that the only time I have to write anymore is when my brain is so fried I'm not sure anything comes out clear, or makes sense.
It's okay that life isn't about me.
In fact, it's the best thing that could happen to me.
I want to live this short season in my life to the fullest. I want my children to know without a doubt that when they leave out one day, that they felt love from me - true, self-giving love.
This is why I must be in a constant, moment by moment relationship with Jesus Christ. This can only come from Him. Through Him, and by Him. I cannot do it alone, on my own, in my own strength. I cannot pull myself up by my boot straps and make it happen - well, maybe I could, but it would be dead, useless, fruitless. Void of the spiritual life that I want to have poured out on my children.
Welp, Lakelyn's eaten and now stinketh and so my time is up.
There is a verse here framed right at my desk and it's one I have held to and prayed since Christian was born:
"... I will pour out my spirit on your offspring. . . this one will say I am the Lord's; and that one will call on the name of Jacob; and another will write on his hand 'belonging to the Lord..."
I'd like to have it go seven verses long - when our third boy was born, I kind of gave a verse to each one. I like to imagine sometimes it continues now:
and that one will find her ALL in Jesus;
and that one will by called out from the world to be His own;
and another will be devoted to the One and Living God;
and that one will say 'I will be steadfast to the Lord' ...
Here is Lakelyn at four weeks:
We all think this picture is especially funny - she looks like she just found out the news:
"You mean to tell me I'm the youngest of SEVEN?!"
Notice the new addition? the white embellishment around the neck? Her oldest sister likes to try new things on her. Her expression is typically something like this when something new is tried on her:
The things that make her most content and happy - the outdoors, music, and children loudly talking.
"I've told my toddler sister again and again to NOT FEED ME PEOPLE FOOD because see, I don't have teeth!"
Happy 4th. I love my country.
a. ann~
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| | Posted 7/3/2009 6:09 PM - 784 Views - 64 eProps - 42 comments
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I Love it! 
