HIS Timing: Perfect, Once Again

I wish I could plan things out as perfectly as God does.
Wish I had that knack for knowing exactly when to begin a thing so that details will fall into place just like they should, precisely when they're needed.
You know, like HE did with Mary? Causing her to become pregnant at just the right time so that when she and Joseph were in Bethlehem for the census "the time came for the baby to be born" (Luke 2:6). In that moment years and years of prophecy were fulfilled, according to every detail and God's perfect plan.
Anyway, I'd love to be able to plan things out perfectly like HE does.
Like He did today. Er, June 30.
I mean, I guess I don't know when He started this perfect plan.
But it delights me.
HE delights me!
See, the thing is, I just left part of my heart my son eight hours away from home. That is, Matthew is now living in Houghton, Michigan. A proud new student at Michigan Technological University.
Eight.hours.away.from.home.
No plans to be back in this neck of the woods until Thanksgiving.
The nest is empty.
My heart is working on acceptance.

And as God would have it, this morning my daily Bible reading was Leviticus 23-25:23.
I read about feasts and offerings, and the Sabbath Year.
All fine. Though nothing terribly inspiring or moving.
Until I got to the last verse for the day.

The land must not be sold pemanently, because the land is mine and you are but aliens and tenants.

Leviticus 25:23

Go ahead and read that again, and tell me if you hear what my mother's heart heard.
I heard, just as the land did not belong to the Israelites - rather to God - so my son is not and was not ever mine. He belongs to God. I am an alien in this land, and simply a care-taker of that precious human being whom GOD created. And if Matthew belongs to God, I can trust HIM to care for him always. Even when he's eight hours away from "home" and has no plans to return for three months.
That sentence - that "final word" for the day - absolutely blessed my heart.
And what made it even better was the consideration of God's hand in delivering it a just the right time. Two months ago I* decided to begin a chronological read-thru-the-Bible plan. I intended to get started on it July 1. But for some reason I* went ahead and began on June 30. Such that, on August 23 (after leaving my son at Michigan Tech on August 22) I would read Leviticus 25:23.
*Only God could move in me to arrange for such a perfect plan. I love that HE knew what I would need. And I love that HE worked it all out.

Whatever you're facing today, I pray you are approaching it with full confidence that God is working out every little detail.

Look Who Came for Dinner

So, the kids were all here for dinner last night.
Which meant special time around the table, talking about life and hearing stories of adventure and adulting. Elizabeth and Phil just returned from a trip to Mexico, so we also got to see lots of great pictures! And, of course, Cleo joined the party.
Which means I have pictures to show of my grand-dog. *smile*

Overheard From the Backseat

Sunday evening my entire family was in the van, traveling to have dinner with the extended entire family. As we drove, I enjoyed listening to my kids banter back and forth and share stories about life.
And there was one story, in particular, which delighted me beyond all the others.
That is, one of my children (who shall remain nameless - to protect the innocent!) was complaining about roommate challenges.
Seems this child's roommate doesn't like to do dishes, or clean up messes, or much of anything else which resembles being responsible for one's living space. And this child of mine is getting tired of it. To the extent that this child recently said to Messy Roommate, "Before you go to bed tonight, will you please clean up x, y, and/or z?" And, apparently, Messy replied with some element of drama and said my child was taking Messy back to moments with Messy's parents.
In other words, my child sounds like Messy's mom.
Which on the one hand made me laugh out loud with a certain sense of satisfaction - knowing my child has an inkling of the agony I experienced over years of saying the same kind of thing.
And which - on the other hand - made me grin with pride at the notion that my child was paying enough attention all those years to not only care about cleanliness, but also to remember how to motivate a person to action.
I mean, I don't know if Messy actually fulfilled the clean-up request (Because, goodness knows, my child(ren) didn't always respond to my requests - even when I tried the non-demanding, nag-free, sound-as-relaxed-as-possible "before you go to bed" approach.) but it delights me to no end that my years of attempted training are producing some results. And, yeah, it's fun to see my child learning to navigate the pathways of adulting.

Here's Looking at You, Kid!

Yesterday I spent the afternoon with my girl.
Except shortly into the incident I realized I was not accompanying a "girl."
Rather, she was a woman.
With responsibilities and maturity and a whole host of grown-up behaviors.
That is, Elizabeth showed me around where she works - let me see the things she's doing, explained processes and future plans, and gave me insights into her passions. She introduced me to her supervisor, and discussed a couple of issues with her while we were there. And as I observed my daughter talking about work-related needs and questions, I realized she was operating at a level I have never seen her on before. I mean, Elizabeth is wonderful and responsible and all that. I've known as much for a long time. But yesterday I got to see her doing these things with my own eyes. And suddenly I felt as though I wasn't just with my girl, but with another woman.
It was kind of strange.
And wonderful.
Wonderful to see my daughter respected and valued by another adult.
Delightful to witness her blossoming before my eyes.
There's just something so enjoyable about watching your child excel, and grow into the person God has created them to be.

As we drove between errands we talked about life and decision-making. I shared with Elizabeth how I have been praying for her and heard how she's been seeking God, too.
In this regard I had another opportunity to see how my girl has grown into a woman. I got to look at the beautiful work God has been doing - the work in which I once played a significant role, and which now finds me as more of an observer.
And while there is a tinge of sadness at missing what was, I realized I have a whole lot of joy in seeing what IS.

We Made It. (You will, too!)

When Your Adult Child "Gets It"

Josh came over for dinner Monday night, and - I'm telling you - he had some of the most delightful things to say. That is, I found great joy in *almost* hearing him say, "Mom, you were right all along!"
It went a little like this:
While talking about his roommate's cleaning habits, "I don't think he has ever emptied the trash. Sometimes I think I just won't do it, because eventually he has to see that it needs to be done. But he doesn't! Mom, I think I feel like you have felt."
Regarding cleaning the kitchen, "He doesn't even wipe the counter. Ever. I scrub the dishes, but he just leaves food all over them. I'm the only one who cares!"
And as I'm listening, I'm thinking, Yes, son. I know exactly how you're feeling. Exactly. And can I just say? What goes around comes around...
Those observations made me chuckle to myself, but it was his final adulting-is-hard comment which made me laugh out loud. Josh was telling us about an opportunity he might have in the coming year to go on a fishing trip, but which would cost upward of $200 for an airplane ticket. And while he was sharing his story - actually all through dinner - Cleo was making lots of noise by dropping her ball on the floor.
Thud.
Over and over and over.
Thud.
Matthew, who has been working lots of hours, saving his money (and happily updating his computer with those savings) asked with a sense of disbelief, "What? Why can't you come up with $200?"
With equal disbelief Josh looked at his you-have-no-idea-what-it's-like-to-do-this-adulting-thing brother and said, "Do you hear that ball dropping? That's why I can't save up $200."
And I just burst out laughing.
You see, my husband used to mock his dad's infamous statement, "You can't have nice things when you have kids!" But sometime in the past 23 years - between the simple cost of having kids, and the amount of damage those darlings do to household items - Brian has come to understand why his dad lamented as he did. In fact, more than once I have heard Brian make the same claim. So I couldn't help but display my amusement when I witnessed the baton being passed to the next generation.
Ahhh, Josh loves his pup. But he's facing the reality that loving and caring for another living being has a literal cost. (And I love seeing the sacrifice he's willing to make for his sweet companion.)
But I also have to laugh, because there is a real sense of satisfaction in seeing your adult child finally understanding the things you've been saying and feeling for years!

Shopping Coach

My Matthew is growing up.
Every day I see him stepping closer and closer to adulthood, doing the things he needs to do to make it on his own.
He basically does his own laundry. He washes the dishes and cleans his bathroom. Sometimes Brian and I are not here for dinner, and I have gotten out of the practice (In which I engaged when the kids were young...) of making a casserole or some other offering for them to eat. So, on those occasions, Matthew has to fend for himself. And he does it successfully.
He is making it through Calculus and Physics, has gotten himself accepted at Michigan Tech, and is busy figuring out his housing arrangements for college life.
This guy can even change tires and assess other car things.
He's practically independent!

HOWEVER, we went shopping Friday night at Kohl's because Brian saw a good deal on flannel shirts earlier in the day, and Matthew wanted to take advantage of it. (That's my boy!!!) While we were there he found another good deal on pants (I was so proud!) and the sum total of two flannels and the pants earned Matthew $15 in Kohl's Cash.
He used my rewards account at check-out, and I received an email for an additional $5 off my next purchase. So I forwarded the email to Matthew - to be combined with his Kohl's cash - and went to tell him the good news. (Confident that he would be thrilled with $20 in free money to spend.)
I said, "Now, be sure to check your Kohl's Cash so you don't miss the expiration date. It's only good for a few days." And Matthew replied, "Oh. It expires? I might be too busy next week to use it. Oh, well."
My heart sank for just a moment at the thought.
I mean, didn't he understand the need to prioritize activities in order to cash in on FREE clothing?
OK. Work and school and homework need to happen. I get that.
Clearly, however, my son does not understand how far $20 could go if he shopped the clearance racks.
Ahhhh, I still have work to do!
*wink*

Now I'm REALLY Feeling Old

When I was a little girl I always looked forward to Christmas morning with my family. Up early, opening gifts, then going back to bed (The grown-ups, that is. I always stayed up to play with my new toys.) and eventually eating breakfast before going over to Grandma's for the "whole family" Christmas.
Then one day I got older and got married. And my husband and I started our own Christmas tradition. No longer with our respective nuclear families on Christmas morning, we celebrated on different days in different ways. Got into new habits, and it was all good.
Then I got a little older again, and I had children - my own little nuclear family. And more new traditions came into play. Our own Christmas morning standards. And this phase? Seemed to last for a long time.
I'd gotten really used to doing what we did on Christmas morning with all my kiddos.
But something has happened, and I am not sure I'm ready to admit its reality.
That is, this year my daughter and her husband are going to be out of town on Christmas day. And my son lives in his own apartment. Which means the way of doing things which I've been used to doing for the past 23 Christmases is going to be different. In fact, I am in the process of figuring out which non-December-25th day will work best for my kids to all be together to celebrate our Savior's birth - and to exchange gifts.
For an instant I was all, Wait a minute! That's something my mother-in-law does. Not me. But then I realized, Oh, wait another minute. I am a mother-in-law now. And I realizd again that a lot of time has passed through all these Christmas tradition changes - from my childhood home, to my married apartment, to my family home, to my nearly empty nest.
And, gee, I'm not sure how to deal with it all.

So if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go find a rocking chair where I can sit for a while and think about it. *wink*

Another Dedication

Well, the letter finally arrived.
The letter, that is, from Michigan Tech University - for which my son has been anxiously waiting.
Annnnnnd, looks like my boy is going to be a Husky!
Now Matthew is busy learning about housing options, researching campus life, and dreaming about the future. I am in one moment proud, and excited to see him growing and pursuing new things. And in the next moment I am full of sentimentality - wanting to keep holding on to my baby boy, not feeling ready to embrace this soon-to-be-empty nest. (Especially as I sat through a child dedication ceremony at church Sunday morning. The memory of standing on the platform the day we dedicated Matthew to the LORD seemed so very recent. *sigh*)
Maybe that's why I found myself re-dedicating him in my heart. Thinking about him on the brink of adulthood, making more of his own decisions (Though I love when he comes to Brian and me for advice!), doing more of his own things - I still pray that God will lead. Still believe that HE is the One who knows best. The One who can be trusted. So even as those young mommas and poppas were making commitments to raise their children to know the LORD, I was praying for my man-child to be drawn to HIM as he takes these next steps.
To be honest though, as I considered those young mommas and poppas and all that is ahead of them I also reflected on those same things which are now behind me. The years of doing my best to do my best, of trying to get it right - but knowing I fell short many times, and the occasional moment of feeling like we were actually going to make it. I thought of times when I could have done this, should have done that, or might rather have done the other thing. I questioned, Did I do enough? Did I miss things? Is he really ready to go? And I felt the Spirit of God nudge my heart. Dear one, you can still trust Me. I am not finished with him. Yes, he's growing. Yes, he's soon going to be moving on. But you can know that I am already there, and I will go with him. Keep trusting. Keep praying. Keep believing. I've got this!
So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to follow HIS plan.
Trust. Pray. Believe.
And send care packages.
I mean, HE didn't explicitly say care packages, but I'm sure that's what He meant! *wink*

Silly Puppy!

Josh texted this picture - along with the caption, "She chewed the face off her favorite toy..."

Is it just me, or does Cleo look a little sad? Like she feels pity for the faceless toy?
The situation makes me chuckle just a bit, as I consider the two of them - Josh and Cleo - coming to terms with the consequences of their actions.
That is, I'm sure Cleo was just enjoying chewing, not realizing her favorite toy would soon become filler for the trash can.
And, similarly, Josh has expressed a level of disbelief at how difficult it is to "raise" a puppy. (He was only 10 when we got Mindy. Didn't do much in the training department. It was all fun and games for him!) She has chewed paint off the wall in his kitchen. House-training has been a challenge. He's gotten tired of her biting his hands. Getting her accustomed to her leash caused him some angst. He even said sometimes it's frustrating that she's so stinkin' cute.
Because her cute-ness makes it difficult for him to stay mad.
Ahhhh, but I know she'll grow out of her puppy-ways. The chewing will slow down and one day stop altogether. And when that day comes, she'll stop ruining her toys. I know the frustration Josh feels now will also decrease and eventually go away.
But in the meantime, I am enjoying watching him learn how to handle difficult moments. I delight in seeing him mature as he deals with the challenges life-on-your-own-making-adult-decisions is bringing his way. And it's a bonus to have this adorable silly puppy as one of the objects of his lessons. *smile*

Bless My Heart

I made a new recipe last night.
It was basically a hunk of meat surrounded by vegetables and covered in a balsamic marinade.
But neither my husband nor my son thought there was anything "basic" about it.
That is, both of them made quite a fuss over how it looked. To the extent that when I was getting ready to transfer it from the pan to the serving dish and bowl, Matthew screamed, "Wait!" asked me to wait.
Then he got out his phone to take a picture and post it on Instagram.

I don't know how many "likes" he's gotten. But at least one of his followers wanted to come for dinner.
***Awwww, shucks!***

Fast-Forward 18 Years

It happened again.
One of those moments in which I found myself "remembering when", and smiling at the realization that God's grace and faithfulness have consistently carried me through.
That is, yesterday morning I served at church by caring for children, so their mommies could have time with other mommies. And as I always do on those mornings, while I was getting ready for the day I was praying for the babies. Asking God to bring peace and give grace to the children, the volunteers, and the mommas - that all might have a joyful morning. (A prayer I am also whispering for this morning - as I speak for some sweet MOPS moms!)
Anyway, as I was contemplating how the morning would transpire (Always plenty of crying now, at the beginning of the year!) my mind went back to when my Josh was three years old. Almost every time I took him to the nursery on a Sunday morning - no matter how pleasant his disposition may have been up to that point - he would put up a fight.
Like, seriously.
As I attempted to pass him over the half-door he would spread out his arms and legs to brace himself in the doorframe, thinking his strength would keep him from going into the nursery. And leaving me feeling like some wicked mother for forcing her child into the loving arms of a sweet servant, when said child clearly wanted no part in it. Of course, by the time I returned to pick him up, Josh was playing and having fun and was totally happy to be in the nursery.
But those first moments.
Oh, they were hard on my momma's heart!
So, as I said, I was thinking about that memory yesterday, after I had just spent the previous evening with my family at Josh's apartment having dinner and playing games. And I smiled as I thought about my 21-year-old son, grown and learning to make his way in the world - but still needing mom 'n dad now and then. I smiled as I recalled his fits over being taken to the nursery, him not realizing at the time that life would get a lot harder. And I smiled - I'm still smiling - as I pondered the faithfulness of our God through each day and every challenge we've faced over that past 18 years. Ahhh, yes. GOD is good!

And if you're reading these words as a mother of babes, if the heartache of tearful transitions and woeful cries is what you're experiencing these days, please hear my heart for you.
It's hard. I know it is! But God is faithful, and HE will bring you through this time.
Keep holding on to HIM, dear sister.

Coming Full Circle

I had an interesting conversation in the check-out lane at Meijer yesterday afternoon.
A few lanes over there was a young child half babbling, half screaming and I overheard the cashier and the woman in front of me commenting about it. I chuckled and chimed in, "Ahhh, it's fun to make noise." They agreed, and then the woman ahead of me in line noted that - while the noise-making can be cute - she does not miss her kids being that age. What with the temper tantrums and diapers and all the other unpleasantries associated with that time in life.
"But now they're teenagers," she said, "and they're driving me nuts in other ways."
I smiled and nodded, because I fully understood her observation. Then I said, "I get that, because I've been there. The crazy thing is they keep growing, and things keep changing. Tomorrow night we're going over to my 21-year-old son's apartment for dinner and a family game night. I am so looking forward to it!" And in that moment I realized that we have truly come full circle in this parenting gig. Having survived the baby days and the toddler years and the pre-school stage and grade school and the teens - now that two-thirds of our children are no longer living under our roof - we're all coming together under one of their roofs to enjoy one another and have fun.
Honestly, 19 years ago - when I was up to my armpits in diapers and young-mother angst - when older and wiser women told me, "There will come a time when you'll miss these days!" - I couldn't imagine I would make it to today. I was too caught up in the struggle of the moment to believe it would ever pass. And envisioning the today I'm living right now seemed waaaay out of reach.
Yet, here I am.
Wow.
And thanks be to God!!!
Full disclosure, though? I don't miss those days.
Oh, some many of the moments? Yes.
But not the entire day!
*wink*

How about you? Caught up in the middle of a struggle which seems like it will go on forever?
Hang in there, my friend. It will surely come to an end.
And, remember - God is faithful. Hold on to HIM!!!

For the Boys

Yesterday I washed the sheets and towels.
(Which I always do on Wednesdays.)
And I included the boys' sheets in the chore.
That is, I stripped their beds for them in order to wash their sheets, too.
(And I don't always do this.)
That is, my habit with Matthew is to remind him that it's Wednesday and I'm washing sheets - and if he wants his sheets washed, he should take them off his bed and bring them downstairs.
Except, yesterday Matthew was at work when I got home from work in the afternoon, so it was too late for me to remind him. At first I was tempted to reason, He knows it's Wednesday, and if he wanted his sheets washed he could have stripped his bed. But then I thought about the fact that I had left him a note in the morning asking him to order something for me with his Amazon Prime account. And when I got out of work, there was his text: the deed is done. And I reasoned further, Yeah. He knows it's Wednesday. He could have stripped his bed. But he did me a favor for me - which allowed me to not have to go shopping. I can do this favor for him.
So I laundered and folded his sheets and took them to his room.
But what about Josh?
Well, regarding Josh I simply reasoned, He's been living the bachelor life since January. Heaven only knows when the last time was these sheets got washed! And I immediately stripped his bed and loaded the washing machine. #OnceAMomAlwaysAMom

He Got Me

I remember when my children were babies and we had frequent back-and-forth moments when they cried to be picked up, then - after what felt like mere seconds in my arms - they wiggled and cried because they wanted to be put back down.
Up and down.
Up and down.
Finally, with a sense of exasperation, I would say, "Child! Do you want to be up or down???"

Then they turned into toddlers who would grunt and point at objects which I would pick up and put into their pudgy little hands. In the blink of an eye that toddler would throw the desired object onto the floor, and grunt and point. So I'd retrieve it again and give it back, only to watch it be thrown down again.
And, surely, the grunts would follow.
Eventually I got tired of the game and I would ask, "Alright. Do you want it, or not?"

When they became small children with more autonomy I was cut out of the game, but the yo-yo nature of things continued. However, this time the offense was the slamming door (If it got closed at all.) and the stream of snow or leaves or cut grass or mud - depending on the season.
You know what I'm talking about, right?
The contsant running in and out of the house by children who can't decide which location is more fun, who keep remembering new things they "NEED" to have with them, or who simply can't sit still in one spot for more than five minutes.
And I (After the hundredth time the door got slammed and the floor got more dirty.) moaned loudly, "Either you're in, or you're out. Make a decision!"

Then those children became teenagers and a different door was constantly opening and closing.
The refrigerator door. (And this was particularly true with the boys.)
I cannot count the times I would witness them opening the refrigerator door, looking inside for several moments, then closing the door with a sigh and walking away. But it almost never failed that they would return to the kitchen less than 15 minutes later, and repeat the process.
Open refrigerator. Look inside. For a while. Sigh. Close refrigerator. Walk away.
Repeat, ad nauseam.
Until I finally put my foot down and declared, "New options are not going to magically appear in the refrigerator. Are you going to eat what's in there, or not???"

So, why am I thinking about these moments?
Well, because yesterday I was doing my workout downstairs while Matthew was in the kitchen.
For one of my exercises I ran up the stairs, skipping every other step.
Ten times.
Which means while Matthew was eating breakfast he heard clomp, clomp, clomp, clomp, clomp, clomp. Then he saw me appear in the doorway, turn around, and go back down.
And on rep number seven he met me at the top of the steps and asked, "Are you staying up or down?"
On my way back down the stairs I said, "I'll be up three more times!"
And I thought, Well played, son. You got me!

Like Father, Like Son

Sunday night I was getting ready for bed when my phone rang.
My first thought was, Gee. It's late. Who would be calling me at this hour? What if it's an emergency?? Oh, dear!!!
So I quickly dropped what I was doing and went to answer my phone.
As I picked it up, I saw that it was my son. And I thought again, Oh, no. What's happened?
So, as cheerfully as I could I said, "Hello!" and waited in anticipation.
Then I heard his voice. "Uh, yeah. I'm at Meijer and I'm looking for refried beans like you use when you make burritos..."
Relieved that there was no emergency, my mind immediately searched for that recipe - assuming Josh was going to make them for himself and was calling to ask about the rest of the ingredients.
But my mind was wrong.
Because the rest of his sentence went like this, "...but all I see are baked beans and black beans. Where are the refried beans?" I chuckled inside as I instructed him to move a couple aisles closer to the front of the store where the tomatoes and tomato sauces are.
"You'll find them in that aisle," I said.
"OK. Thanks. Bye," were his parting words.
Then I hung up the phone, shaking my head as I recalled the many times his father has done the exact same thing. Because, apparently it's easier to call me than it is to find a store employee when one needs help locating an elusive item.
Guess I should be honored that they think I know so much. *wink*

It's the Little Things

So, the other day I made a quick stop at the store on my way home from work.
(Just had to pick up a few things.)
When I got home I guess I made some noise as I set the bag and my purse on the counter - because Matthew came jogging into the kitchen where I was standing, taking the few items out of said bag.
I looked up, a bit startled by his sudden appearance, and saw an equally confused look on his face. He must have made a quick assessment of the scene and determined that I didn't need any help because he said, "Oh, you don't have more bags to bring in?"
At which point the light went on for me, and I understood Matthew's actions.
For many years I have tried to instill in my kids a mind-set for service. Such as, when I get home from grocery shopping it is thoughtful, kind, appropriate, and courteous for them to help unload the van. But sometimes when I come home from the store Matthew is in his room and doesn't hear me enter, thus I unload all the groceries by myself. He may then come into the kitchen when I'm bringing in the last bag, or when I'm putting things away and he always says, "Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't hear you." And I know he regrets not helping me with the task.
So this time the keys I dropped, or the cans that clanged (or whatever noise I made) alerted Matthew to my arrival - and he jumped to action to lend a hand.
Only this time I didn't need any help.
"Nah, I'm good," I said. "But thanks for checking!"
And Matthew returned to his room with a small grin on his face.

In that moment I was so proud of my son, as I reflected back on the years. As I remembered frustrating days and bitter moments when I wondered if he would ever listen to me or learn to do the right thing.
As I considered the joy I've had in recent months watching him mature and make solid "adult" decisions.
I mean, I recognized that being at the ready to help bring groceries into the house really is a little thing - rather insignificant in the grand scheme of life. But the man behind the action used to be a boy who nearly had me at my wits' end, and I just wanted him to know I see and admire how much he's grown.
Even when it shows up in the little things.

OK. I'm Saying It.

There are a number of things mothers-of-grown-kids said to me when my children were young, which I swore I would never say to other young moms when mine grew up.
Because - although the words had the best intentions behind them - they did little to encourage me.
And sometimes actually did the opposite.
I mean, now I totally see the wisdom behind their words because I've made it to the other side.
In fact, there have been times when I have been tempted to say the very same things.
You know, like, "This, too, shall pass."
When? Because I keep waiting, and it's still happening.
And, "We've all been there."
Oh? So I shouldn't feel this way, because I'm not the only one? Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn't. Now I just feel guilty for feeling overwhelmed, irritable, tired, fill-in-the-blank.
Or, how about, "There will be a time when you'll miss these days!"
So not true. I still don't miss those days.
Oh, lots of the moments - to be sure. But not the entire day!!!
Indeed, those are among the statements I pray I will never say to a mother of young children.
But this past weekend I found myself thinking a thought I had when my kiddos were little, and recognizing that it may be helpful for me to verbalize it for a few moms of young 'uns out there today.
So, here goes!

I was outside cleaning the porch and washing windows. Partly delighted with myself for getting it done, and partly ashamed that it has taken so long. (Can it still be considered "Spring Cleaning" if July hasn't arrived yet?) Anyway, I was doing it. And I was astonished at how dirty the porch was.
See, the thing is, years ago Josh turned our porch and its immediate area into a bird sanctuary.
Several bird feeders fill the space and - up until he moved out several months ago - Black Oil Sunflower seeds consistently filled the feeders.
And something I've learned about birds?
They're messy and they don't clean up after themselves.
What that means specifically for our situation is that we have more sunflower seed shells filling the landscape than I could ever count. And in case you were wondering, mertyle doesn't grow well when buried by sunflower seed shells. Some of the weeds managed to push through, but the mertyle is being choked out. What once looked like semi-decent landscaping just looks like piles of shells now. With some languishing mertyl and weeds mixed in.
So as I was sweeping sunflower seed shells off the porch (Because they got all over the porch, too.) into the mertyl (Because, why not? It's dying, anyway.) and recalling all the times I had wished our porch entrance looked nicer, I remembered how much joy came to my son when he could claim that all the birds in the neighborhood liked our house best. Because no one else took care of feeding them with as much love and attention as he did.
Seriously.
This kid used his own money to buy the best bird seed - because he researched and found out what the birds really liked. He would fill the feeders every night, and only at night, because he didn't want to do it when the birds were around - so as not to frighten them. Josh would even adjust the curtains by the porch to give the birds more privacy in their feeders.
Is it any wonder they all flocked to our house day after day, season after season?
They had the best possible advocate and care-taker in my son.
And we?
Had a messy porch with terrible looking landscaping.
But cleaning up the mess and making plans for a nice front porch (Because Josh has moved out, the birds have moved on, and Brian and I want to create a beautiful space.) caused me to remember the thing I've heard (and thought!) so many times. "You can't have nice things when you have kids!"
And, you know? In many ways that's a true statement.
But as I reflected on my son's joy in caring for his birds - while cleaning the mess they left behind, even as I anticipated a lot of work in making the space beautiful again - I can honestly say, it's OK.
It has been totally worth it.
And if I had it to do all over again, I would still opt for a messy front porch - if it meant my son finding joy in caring for God's creation. If it meant my son could be delighted in learning about what birds like to eat, how they migrate and nest and survive, and caring for their little birdy needs.
Yeah. All that wins out over my desire to have a presentable front porch.
So, for what it's worth, mother of young children (especially boys!), don't worry about having "nice things" right now. For today, let your kids be kids and seek to find joy in seeing them finding joy.
Even if it means a messy front porch.

There. I said it!

Speaking My Language

So, Matthew went to the store yesterday to buy himself some new shorts.
And when we were both back home later in the day I asked if his trip had been successful.
He smiled, patted a bag sitting beside him, and said, "Yes!"
Then our conversation went something like this:
Matthew: Oh, and you'll like this! I mean, I don't know how you'll feel about this part. That is, I liked the shorts so I decided to get them, but they were $25 and I thought that was kind of a lot for shorts. But I was going to get them anyway. Then when I was paying for them, they were only $13!
Me: That's awesome. Good job!
Matthew: I know! I mean, I looked all over but didn't see a SALE sign, so I didn't expect them to be on sale. But they were. And I decided it was better not to ask questions.
Me: Yep! Never ask questions when something is nearly 50% off.
*fist bump*

Train Up a Child

Saturday I was in the back yard pulling weeds (Getting my flowerbed ready for seeds. The very seeds I harvested from my zinnias last summer. I am so excited to watch them grow!) when I heard deep voices wafting through the air.
I was pretty sure Matthew was the only other person home, so I was a little confused.
And curious enough to get off my knees and search out the source of that other voice.

The scene I discovered delighted my heart.

As I came around the house I found Matthew and Phil in the driveway, with Phil's car.
And a jack.
And the two of them deep in discussion.
I remembered something about a phone call to Brian the previous day regarding car problems, and deduced that Phil had come over to do some investigating with him. However, Brian wasn't home. So apparently Matthew decided to step in and see if he could help figure out the problem.
At first my thought was, Wait a minute. How can he know what to do?
But then I remembered Matthew isn't a little boy anymore. Although sometimes reluctantly, he has gone over car repair procedures with Brian. He has learned how to change tires and brakes, and has even done some repair work on his own. And it would seem that amount of background gave him enough confidence to problem-solve with Phil.
So I looked upon these two young men who were attempting to diagnose an unsettling noise, and I smiled with great joy.
Because I remember when each of our kids complained about various life-lessons Brian or I would try to teach. Specifically - the groaning the boys did when Brian insisted they learn how to do this or that bit of maintenance on their cars. The memories are still fresh of times when I thought it would be easier to just let them have a pass on attaining skills, when it would have been nice to circumvent the whining and - instead - get the "cool parent" award for letting them off the hook.
But Saturday afternoon I was witnessing the fruit of choosing well, rather than choosing easy.
And the scene delighted my heart!

Full disclosure: Many of the life-lessons we have attempted to pass on to our children were painful at the time. Beyond the complaints and whining, I often got discouraged by comments about us being too strict - or feeling like we were asking too much.
(My inner child sometimes agreed with my external children!)
But I'm telling you now, it was worth it. Every last bit of it! To see my children today, adulting and appreciating the lessons we taught - ahhhh! It is such a delight.
So, for those of you who find yourself in the midst of training now - for the times when you question the value of it all - please accept my encouragement to keep going. You'll be so glad you did.
And so will your kids!!!