I see:

 I see:

my son running along the sidewalk.

I think: 

when did he get so tall?

I see:

my son going potty all by himself.

I think: 

how did he learn to do that?

I see:

the furrowed brow of concentration as my son snips paper.

I think: 

when did he become trustworthy with scissors?

I see:

a full-face smile when I greet my son after nap-time.

I think:

how did I get this much joy?

My son is not the first boy to be potty trained.  

They are not the first boys to learn to use scissors or to grow tall or to smile with such abundant joy. 

But it is the first time for me.  Forgive me if I revel in it... if I brag about it... if I bore you with the details... 

I am amazed.

The world is full of...

Finish this sentence: 

The world is full of _________________.

evil?

suffering?

trouble?

darkness?

 

I don't know how you would fill in the blank, but these are some of the first answers that come to my mind.

 

But I learned something last night:

 

"The world is full of his (God's) loving-kindness."

That's straight from the Bible, folks (Ps 33:5b), one of the most brutally honest books I've ever read.  It doesn't sugar coat.  This is the book that says things like: "all our righteous acts are like filthy rags" (Is 64:6) and "In this world you will have trouble" (Jn 16:33).

Today, I choose to BELIEVE and to SEE that the world is full of God's loving-kindness.  I choose to look for loving-kindness instead of sorrow and hardship and evil; those things are easy enough for me to spot.  Here's where I saw His loving-kindness to me today:

• an answered prayer for uninterrupted sleep (no kitty scratching at the bedroom door, no middle-of-the-night cries for water, or tuck-ins, or a lost stuffed animal)
• an early wake-up from God with time to pray and read (a novel!) and doze all before getting out of bed
• this sentence from my son (it just kept going and going): "I think I saw an orange banana outside last night when I went for a walk with Daddy.  (pause)  It was squished."
• a request for peas as the topping on a boy's english muffin pizza... and he ate it!  This made me smile so much!
• the knowledge that people are praying for us, and a very real experience of God's gracious answers to those prayers: joy, peace, contentment, freedom from fear and loneliness.

This is how the Psalm ends:

May your unfailing love rest upon us, 

O Lord,

even as we put our hope in you.

Ps 33:22 

You missed a spot

Mama, are you sad?

Yes, Micah.

Are you crying?

Yes, Micah.

What are you sad about?

Saying good-bye to daddy.

Oh.  wah-wah (fake crying)

 (me fake wiping his tears)

(me actually wiping my tears)

Mama, you missed a spot.  

Oh, sweet boys, I am so glad we're in this together.

Announcement... more posts coming!

Roses are red

Violets are blue

This blog has been dusty

My writing is rusty...

Here comes something new!

Announcing my intention to blog DAILY for 23 days, starting Feb 15th.  

Look for lots of fun twin boy stories.  

See you around!

The Happiness Balloon

Scene 1: The service counter at Shoprite, asking for our complimentary balloons.  Micah receives an orange balloon (yay! his favorite!).  Titus receives a green balloon (not his favorite).  He refused to receive it; I tie it next to Micah's orange one.  I leave with one son happy and one son exceedingly disgruntled.  During the lifespan of the green balloon, as it slowing sinks to the floor and gets smaller and smaller, the green balloon is completely ignored and neglected.

Scene 2: One week later, same place.  Micah receives a green balloon.  Titus receives a yellow balloon.  Mama says a prayer for grace. 
Micah: Yay, I call it orange! 
Titus: I call my balloon red!
Smiles and joy all around as we leave the store.

These stories are to introduce you to the philosophy of my new book; look for it in local booksellers near you.  It will be called:

The Happiness Balloon:

Seeing Bliss in Life's Many Disappointments

Chapter One: The Happiness Blanket

Chapter Two: The Happiness Hippopotamus

Chapter Three: The Happiness Truck

Epilogue: Three Steps to Happiness with a Blue Shirt (we're still developing this one)

May all your balloons be orange hippopotami today!

Playgroup is for parents

Today was one of those days.  Do you have them?  One of those If-I-Stay-In-The-House-With-These-Boys-There-Are-Sure-To-Be-Moments-Of-Regret Days.  I woke up feeling worn, failing to get up early enough to either exercise or have a quiet moment before my sons were up and at 'em.  I was distracted by cooking projects in the kitchen... things that could be done during "nap time" but that would be temptingly calling me from the play area back into the kitchen to do "just this little thing."  (If you don't know me, I LOVE to be in my kitchen.)  I felt already impatient with Legos and settling disputes and answering questions and listening to the same CD again. 

Solution?  Playgroup.  

Here's the sad but true fact:

I parent better in public.  

It sounds hypocritical, doesn't it?  Shouldn't I hold myself to the same standard of parenting excellence in the privacy of my home that I can mange others are watching?  Do I not remember that I live under the eye of an all-seeing God, who sees me either at playgroup or at home?  Do I know that He sees my heart? 

Yes. Yes. And yes.

And yet...

There are days when it is better to see and to be seen.  To absorb the energy of "out" and the energy of other young families.  To remove the distractions of my home and kitchen, so that I will sit on the floor for an hour and a half and do whatever my sons want to do.  To be in a place where other mothers are playing with Legos and to follow their models of patience and engagement.

Playgroup is for me.

Not to drink coffee and gossip with the other moms (I'm not that parent), but to force me to be a better parent, if only for the morning. 
 

Beloved

I heard her say: You are a beloved daughter of God.

Beloved

Daughter

Of God

I am not "only" a player in the story of my sons.  

Not best supporting actress to my husband.  

Not an extra on the set of Mountain Street.  

I have a story to live.  God is writing it for me.  I am His beloved.