Impulse Number Two

I'm having a case of impulsion this morning. Kendra calls every morning at 7:30. This morning she said she was going to be alone tonight because Craig has a sleep over for his basketball team. (I didn't know boys had sleep overs :) She commented that Craig will probably sleep all day tomorrow after the night he will have. Sooooooo, I impulsively said, "So then, I should come up and we could have a fun night and tomorrow". Her reply was "Yes! You could do that". So I told her I had to hang up right then and see if I could make it work. I called Ken and asked what he thought. He told me to go and have a good time. I asked if he was sure, after all, it is the weekend. He was firm in his encouragement. He said he had tons of things to do so he would be busy the whole time. I must say that I have I have husband that gives me so much freedom and I am so thankful. He knows the kind of person I am and encourages me to be that person. I truly love him.

So the plan is.....I will leave as soon as I get this blogged and meet her at school. She loves when I come and sit in the classroom and I love to sit there and watch her in action. She is so good at what she does and I sit with my buttons popped. Well, figuratively speaking, of course.

Her last words were, "Now you know you don't have to do this so if it doesn't work don't feel bad if you have to call me to say you can't come". Fat chance. I love every opportunity to see my kids.

Yesterday, I worked around my house til around noon and then went to Lauri's to help her get caught up. I think she got behind when we had company for two weeks running. She hasn't gotten on top of things until now. We got some of the things done that have been bugging her and it was such a joy to be able to bring her a lift. She does so much for us and it felt really good to return the favor.

So, the world turns in the life of this common ordinary human being. The real deal is still relationships, both with the Father of lights and with those He has given me to love. I can't praise Him enough. Off I go into the wild blue yonder, flying high into the highway. I will enjoy the journey. Blessings to each of you today.

Christmas is the Giving

My friend, Cindy, called this morning and said she has nearly finished her Christmas shopping. I am usually an early bird when it comes to gift purchasing, also. This year, however, we are not buying gifts for our family. The family has decided that its Christmas gift to each other is everyone joining each other at our son's vicinity in West Palm Beach, Florida. We have a bit of family there and they have worked it out so that none of us need rent a hotel. That is just a wonderful thing. Now, each of us can go and not feel guilty about spending too much money. Aside from the gas and food, the hotel bills are usually the biggest hunk of vacation expense. I really thank my son and wife, my sister and my niece for moving over for the move-in of the De Vries family. We are looking forward to a good time had by all. Our daughters in particular seem serious about how often they can get all their kids together so that cousins know and love one another. As is in most families, it is the daughers that plan the family activities. On the other hand, Jay has been planning this visit from his family for over a year now and is pretty excited about it. Most of his siblings have not seen his home so he is eager to show them. He and Tasha own a beautiful big home with a pool and a lake in their back yard. Hopefully, the weather will be cooperative and the kids can take advantage of all those amenities.

This early morning post will be added to this afternoon. At this point, I must ready myself for my Bible study at church.

The Beth Moore teaching was awesome this morning. Her subject was the true church, the true body of believers. She exposed the weaknesses of denominationalism. What a minute, don't shut me off. She belongs to a denominational church. But she has her eyes open and sees the way we tend to begin to practice the laws and expectations of men rather than the expectation of God. God is looking for those that believe in Him, that have a heart for Him, that pant after Him as a deer pants for water. Quite honestly, he doesn't care a fig whether you attend church once a week, twice a week or less or more. It isn't with our church attendance he is crediting our account for righteousness. Each brand of church has its own list of rules and/or expectations. The longer I live the less I get excited about following man's list of rules. In our tradition, services are held both morning and evening on Sundays. People that come only on Sunday mornings are considered "oncers" while those that come both services are considered more spiritual. Oh, that isn't in black and white anywhere but those preconcieved judgements are floating around. One young gal had a busy October. She hostessed more people in one month than most folk do in a year. She heard via the grapevine that her lack of Sunday night church attendance was getting attention from a certain group of people. Now do you suppose that kind of guilt laying would encourage one's walk with Christ or cause resentment. I know what it does to me.

If only we as God's children would extent grace in the same way our Savior extends grace. Life would be wonderful and the message of the gospel would spread like a wildfire. I'm going to make an effort to be less critical, less presumptuous, less judgmental. I'm going to realize more accutely that God has His beloved in churches of all brandnames.

The Mundane

Another beautiful fall day. This can't last forever, but it would be nice if it did. The bright sun on the colored leaves thrilled my heart again today. I noticed that one particular pair of sunglasses made the colors very vivid. I liked it.

I'm at home, fairly alone. Scarlen is home but she is taking a nap after starting work at four this morning. It was a crazy night for me. I slept well until I jolted awake. Thinking it must be around six in the morning, I was disappointed to see that it was only one a.m. Once my mind started rolling, I got up to work on getting things together for morning worship for Sunday. When I entered our lower level family room the lights were already on and Lynette, our permanent house guest was sitting on the sofa with lap top in hand working on her homework. She asked what I was doing and I told her I had homework to do, also. We chuckled together and then I got down to business. Our assistant pastor will be ordained Sunday so it is a rather special service which requires special preparation. I worked until three o'clock when Scarlen's alarm started going off signaling her time to rise and shine. As I crawled back in bed I smiled to think of the crazy schedule this family keeps. Lynette works late into the evenings at Christian Haven, a home for troubled kids. She doesn't get home until eleven thirty or so. So, the shower and the beds get very little down time here.

Isaiah has a basketball game in Crown Point this afternoon at four o'clock. I didn't think we would go but he asked this morning, "Are you coming to my game?" Why certainly, we are. Even though we have attended more middle school ballgames than we could count, it is still fun to watch the kids particpate in those activities. Their little personalities come out. One sees their nervous twitches or their concerned facial expressions. But the times they relish in the victories is priceless. The team spirit comes through strong as they high five and hug each other. That is a lesson well worth learning, most of life is a team effort as opposed to the "I" thing.

Tuesdays my daughter, Lauri, works. That kind of crimps my style. I think that is how she felt when I worked. I don't begrudge her a couple of working days a week but it is rather boring sometimes when she is gone all day. That is just pathetic, isn't it? I guess I've become pretty dependent. Lauri was talking to one of my nieces. The niece mistakenly looked upon us as being pretty perfect. Lauri laughed with her and told her we are just as dysfuntional as the rest of the population but we just have fun over our dysfuntion. That's my Lauri. She has inherited her dad's wit and her mom's sensitive heart. We see that in most of our kids. Thank you, God, for passing on the good stuff.

Kendra has a gloucose test today which she isn't looking forward to. No big deal, we all know, it's just having to drink that STUFF. I'm sure the test will have a good result and we will be happy when she is through with that one. As Ken says nearly once a week, "How did our children ever come into the world healthy?" Kendra follows the doctor's advice quite closely and nowadays they encourage pregnant moms not to eat lunchmeat, drink coffee or soda, and not to travel after 32 weeks. Her dad just grinds his teeth at all that stuff. On the other hand, I have always known not to eat lunch meat and not to drink the caffiene drinks whether or not one is pregnant. It isn't that I have been terribly strict about it but I know the facts, Jack. It actually thrills me that the medical people are finally beginning to get it. We are all entitled to our own opinions about those things. Ken pretty much stands alone in the family on those issues. Most of the rest of us put some stock in eating healthy.

One of Those Days

It's been a trying day. Being misunderstood and tongue lashed doesn't feel good no matter who one is or what age one is. All day I've been attempting to give the hurt to the Lord. It's funny how human it is to want to hold on to hurt. There's part of me that would like never to risk myself again. What is the point? Only to be hurt again? It is very strange how wonderful one can feel one moment and a few moments later feel as if the rug has been pulled right out from under one. What changed? Only the realization of what another thinks of one. My personality is a people pleasing one. I really like to have everyone happy. That is true within our family and our church and my greater arena of friends and acquaintances. There are a few people in my life that from time to time misunderstand my motives and my goals. It seems no matter how much thought I put into the matters that need dealing with, no matter how caring I try to be, it just isn't accepted that way. It would be easy to just give up. I've had to fight that temptation today as well as the temptation to "get back".
Tonight I had to run to the Word for comfort. The following Psalm was a balm to my hurting soul. Read especially verses 14, 18, 19.

Psalm 34 (The Message)
The Message (MSG)
Copyright © 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson
Psalm 34
1 I bless God every chance I get; my lungs expand with his praise.
2 I live and breathe God; if things aren't going well, hear this and be happy:
3 Join me in spreading the news; together let's get the word out.
4 God met me more than halfway, he freed me from my anxious fears.
5 Look at him; give him your warmest smile. Never hide your feelings from him.
6 When I was desperate, I called out, and God got me out of a tight spot.
7 God's angel sets up a circle of protection around us while we pray.
8 Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see—how good God is.
Blessed are you who run to him.
9 Worship God if you want the best; worship opens doors to all his goodness.
10 Young lions on the prowl get hungry, but God-seekers are full of God.
11 Come, children, listen closely; I'll give you a lesson in God worship.
12 Who out there has a lust for life? Can't wait each day to come upon beauty?
13 Guard your tongue from profanity, and no more lying through your teeth.
14 Turn your back on sin; do something good. Embrace peace—don't let it get away!
15 God keeps an eye on his friends, his ears pick up every moan and groan.
16 God won't put up with rebels; he'll cull them from the pack.
17 Is anyone crying for help? God is listening, ready to rescue you.
18 If your heart is broken, you'll find God right there; if you're kicked in the gut, he'll help you catch your breath.
19 Disciples so often get into trouble; still, God is there every time.
20 He's your bodyguard, shielding every bone; not even a finger gets broken.
21 The wicked commit slow suicide; they waste their lives hating the good. 22 God pays for each slave's freedom; no one who runs to him loses out.

I just got off the phone with my eldest daughter. She was sharing some family dynamics on her husband's side and simply said, "We will invite them no matter what. (Thanksgiving). It isn't for us to judge or to seek vengence but to show mercy and love". I didn't share my hurt with her but she ministered to me without even knowing it. I will continue to love my attacker as well. I must trust God to be the one to whom vengence belongs. Because my words are not accepted, I must trust God's Spirit to speak peace to the souls of both of us. Through it all, I sit up and evaluate my own actions and words. If it is true that I said the wrong thing, then God forgive me. If my motives were not loving, then God forgive me. Verse 19 speaks God's understanding to me and tells me He is with me and will salve my mind and heart.

This Old House

Thursday night found the seven women's retreat team members at the home of one of our memebers. Cheri lives in Rensselaer and recently moved to a home formerly owned by her parents in law. We have heard about this house and the excitement she had for acquiring it for at least a year now. She invited to host the meeting at her "new" house while conditioning us that it was a work in progress and not to be troubled by dirt and mess. Cheri grew up next door to us when we lived in town many years ago. I knew she wouldn't live with dirt and mess so dismissed her comment with, "whatever". Five team members carpooled in my van the twenty miles to Rensselaer. The house was easy to find using the landmarks she gave me. "Turn by the ice cream stand, go south two blocks and there we are." It was dark when we arrived. There was a corporate verbal expression of delight when we pulled in front of this huge white house. The wrap around front porch lights were proudly displaying the massive front of a two story house built in the late 1800s. With stone steps leading to an immense front porch flanked with large swing on one side and Adorondack chairs on the other, we got to the door. The front windows displayed a tall crystal container glowing with candlelight. Entering such a home is an experience. The sights, sounds and aromas bring one back a hundred years. Immediately questions come to mind. Who was the original owner of this grand house? What did he do for a living (we know it wouldn't have been a "she" in 1800)? Once in the door, the roomy front parlor stood proud with several six foot long windows, each pane beveled in exquisite beauty. The wide oak stairway begged one to climb it to see more. Not yet. We needed to wander the first floor. The second parlor was filled with a pool table. That was the only thing in the house that didn't lend itself to the time period. Once through that door, we entered what must have been the servant's quarters. Floor to ceiling oak cabinets lined two walls. The upper cabinet doors were long and thin and shining glass. Cheri is a lover of crystal and china so each pane in those cabinets displayed one of her crystal treasures. It was a beautiful sight. Through that small kitchen one entered the main kitchen. It was also large as was every room in this house. The back porches were the full width of the house and there were two, one on the first floor and one on the second. Both of them were closed in. We circled back to the room from which the candle light burned its beauty in the front window. That was the dining room where we would spend our evening discussing and planning the retreat day which will be February 23, 2008. Our tour guide then took us up that gorgeous stairway. At the midway landing, a window filled with stained glass in tones of golds and browns took our attention. Eventually we made our way through five or six bedrooms. Yes, some of them are still filled with boxes from the move. Some of them had wall paper from perhaps the sixties or seventies. To say Cheri and her husband have their work cut out for them is some what of an understatement. I think they will meet the challenge.

One of the gals called the place a castle. That is too cold a description in my view. Perhaps the term mansion would fit it better. The house is truly a treasure that speaks of history and nostalgia. I love it. I can't say I would be up to the challenge of getting it decorated and in some cases restored. It is going to take mega muscles and mega money to get it as they would like. I suppose in order to stay sane, they have conditioned themselves to know this work in progress will be a work in progress for years. I admire those that salvage and maintain historical buildings. Cheri's house is a dream house for many and I'm so delighted she is the recipient. Having lived next door to Cheri's family, I think of what her mother would think of it all. Dorothy would be in the thick of things. She, too, loved elegance and beauty and would be delighted for her daughter.

I now know where to go when I need my fix of nostalgia and glammor. I'll call Cheri and tell her to get the tea pot on for I'm coming over to just sit and let it all sink in.

Life is a Progression of Lessons

Instead of sitting in my recliner evaluating the cost, I thought I'd put my thoughts in print. I do this with fear and tripidation as it is rather risky.

This morning I have been tidying up the place. The laundry, while as complete as it gets in a household of five, has been put away. When I carried clothing into my grandson's room, I was reminded that most of my peers live with their spouses in their homes. They know nothing of keeping a household of five. While the adult girls do some laundry, they don't help much with the rest of things. They work and go to college so there is little time left for the mundane. It falls to me. Now sometimes I can get my nose out of joint about that. Self pity attacks and I run through a time of resentment. But this morning, I counted the cost.

When we adopted our children, we were fully aware that those dear children of God would be wounded by the mere fact of their need for adoption. It was our belief that if we loved them enough, all their wounds would heal. We adopted our daughter when she was seven. During her growing up years past seven, I did my best to mold her God's way. I pushed and prodded. I even thought I could accomplish the goal with physical or verbal force. Gratefully, I realized some years ago that was not going to work. Even though it was extremely painful, I decided to take a lazzefaire attitude. My hands off, Lord, and Your hands on. I could do nothing but let God take over and do what only He can do, heal her core and change her wounded heart. There were many times of doubt. I would wonder and even had people ask if we as her parents were doing enough. Yet each time I felt as if there was no hope, God would remind me of the assurance we had years ago that it was that He had a plan for her and it was to prosper and not to fail, to give her hope and a future. Yes, I would say, I had faith, be it ever so trembling.

At sixteen, she had a son. The brunt of the responsibility of this new life was left to us. Of course she was the mommy, but she was also still a child. Before he was born, I was a bit resentful. Hadn't I raised eight children? Wasn't that enough? Why would I be given more child responsibility in my fifties? What I found was the joy far outweighed the cost. The child is a treasure. The child helped his mother through the years that followed and he helped us through the years that followed. I'm not sure any of the three of us, Scarlen, her dad or I would have survived with out the collective responsibility and purpose of the child.

We have been Scarlen's parents now for twenty one of her twenty eight years. She is coming into her own. She is a joy to have in our home. There were dark days in between. Many of them. But joy comes in the morning, says the Word and our joy has come. Our daughter is nearing the completion of a BA in business administration. She has been faithful at a job for a couple of years.
More importantly, she is respectful and kind and has taken over a more mature responibility of parenting Isaiah.

There is no projected time line of the healing process in the life of a wounded child. I was thinking this morning that we have parented our daughter now the normal length of time that birth children are parented; twenty one years. Perhaps I expected too much too soon. Why did I despair so often. Why did I threaten to give up? The reward is far too great to have missed. I know without a doubt that there is greater joy to come from her in future years. Our prayer at this point is that God would bring to both her and Isaiah a man of faith who would love and cherish and care for both of them. If we would allow our selfish tendencies to flourish, we would want to keep them until the child reaches adulthood, but we know that wouldn't be our first choice for them. Before Isaiah was born, I read this statement, "If one has a child from birth to five years old, he/she will become what he has learned in those years". While I didn't like the thought of that in regard to all four of the children we adopted after the years of 0-5, I took it to heart over this new baby. I remember telling my husband's mother that my prayer was that we would have this little boy for at least five years. It has been eleven years now and he has been in our home nearly all of that time. The investment we have made in both of them makes their futures so important to us. I guess if we had to make a comparison of parental investment into our children, the investment we have in Scarlen and her child far outweighs that which we have made in any other of our children. Investment is measured here not in dollar bills but in prayer and desire; in emotion and effort. Very interesting seeing that all our other children were sought after, Scarlen was given to us unexpectedly. I think God had a special task for Ken and me in giving us this child of His. He was looking for people who had experience in loving children born to others. We met that criteria. He was looking for people who could handle disappointment and challenge. I guess we met that criteria, too, although that was unknown to us at the time. He was looking for people that trusted the outcome to Him. I suppose he molded us into that criteria, too. If He had asked us if we were up to the challenge, we would have resounded with a loud "NO". Yet, He didn't ask us. He simply placed her in our family and asked us to love this child. While she is still learning the depth and sincerity of our love, we are still learning the love of God goes beyond our understanding. Where did the love in our hearts for her come? Obviously from His throne of grace in our lives. God molds all of us in His way and in His timeline. I praise Him for giving us the gift of these two people in our family.

God taught me a long time ago, to hold my children in my hands with a bit of space between my fingers. The hand would not drop them but the open fingers left them room to be something God created them to me, not what I wanted to create them to be. I trust him with all eight of the precious ones he has given me and the seventeen and 2/3 grandchildren he has blessed us with. Praise Him today for those in your family whom you may not understand and with whom you wish to despair over. There is joy coming in the morning. Trust Him for it.

Grandparent's Day

Yes, it is late on the ninth of November. One of my friends already reminded me that I haven't blogged today. It was a busy one. I was at DeMotte Christian School by 8:00 a.m. It was the biggest day of the year for our grandkids. It is called Grandparent's Day and they love it. My daughter said when she woke Mackenna up this morning she jumped out of bed with excitement and said, "It's Grandparent's Day!" This was my first relaxed Grandparent's Day. Prior to this one, I flew to school around 8:30 after I had worked an hour at the school where I was employed. Then I hurried back with the guilt of having been gone for a few hours. Today, it was pure joy. I loved it. We have five grandchildren at DMC. They range from first to eighth grade. We have two in sixth and one in fourth. After the morning chapel program, which was wonderful, I visited each of their classrooms. Each classroom was as happy as the other. There were smiles everywhere today and seemingly not a care in the world. Special days do that. They take the attention off the mundane or negative and on to the positive. Grandparent's Day is all about love. Love between the generations. When eleven thirty arrived, it was time to go home for the day. Because the kids had a half day they could go home with Grandma. When I turned the way to go to town they all knew what was up. Grandma was taking them for some lunch. The majority vote was Subway. Taking five grandchildren anywhere used to be a challenge greater than myself but now that they are getting older, the challenge was out of it and I could enjoy them immensely. We had a wonderful time teasing each other and loving each other. It was a good day. The pictures are on the net by special request. Kids love to see themselves in published pictures. The only picture I wish I had gotten was a picture of Isaiah and me together. He isn't fond of pictures so got out of it by saying, "you don't need one of me, I live with you." All the more a reason to have a picture but we didn't get one.

More blogging tomorrow. Am tired and ready for some rest.