What I Know to be True

 A friend of mine frequently texts me just see how my day was. Lately it's been difficult - long hours with work, kids starting school (through distance learning this week) and so on. Today, I was pleasantly surprised to text her that my day had been very good. That the boys and school and work all seemed somehow manageable... ENJOYABLE, in fact. 

Funny... but it really wasn't until that moment that I remembered how my day started - the way it should always start but rarely (much closer to "never") does... in quiet prayer, solitude and meditation. 

How is it I KNOW this to be true, and yet, it's so infrequent I take time quiet my spirit and to be alone with Jesus? It seems like the benefits, that so easily outweigh the cost, would keep me constantly and firmly rooted in that small but critical discipline. Why, instead, is it so difficult to do?

But after a day like today, and the season of life that trails behind me these last five or so months, I expect to make this a renewed cornerstone of my mornings.

God, help me do the things I know I ought to do... the things that you've designed me for (relationship with You) and built me to crave. 

"As the deer pants for streams of water,

    so my soul pants for you, my God.

2 

My soul thirsts for God, for the living God."

Psalm 42:1-2a

Ceramic dogs, boys, dolphins and aliens

We have a series of ceramic oddities around the house. Each of our boys has had a couple of opportunities to paint something ceramic for an activity at day care. It's difficult to tell what they are, mostly. Seriously... one may be a reclining alien, but I can't be sure.

Anyway, today, my older son brought home his newest treasure - a chihuahua that he had painted first grey and then gold over the top of that.

Imagine my horror this evening when I was sitting some stuff by my purse to take to work tomorrow and brought my hand back, catching the paper bag the chihuahua was apparently sleeping on. "Oh no!" I exclaimed as the dog fell to the tile floor breaking into three larger pieces and several very small pieces. That proves it. I am a horrible mother.

So, I told my husband I was going to grab the hot glue gun. To which he replied, "that won't work." (Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.)

Anyway, it's not perfect, but it's somewhat mended together. Fortunately, I think my son's love for me may possible outweigh the disappointment of the injury I've inflicted on his little chihuahua. Worst case scenario, we may be making a family trip to the ceramic painting place to create new ceramic artifacts for me to accidentally destroy another day.

C'est la vie!

Joined by his new family...

The Perspective of Boys

Every blog I've written the last few years starts with a comment about "how long it's been since I've blogged..." I chalk that up to the "married with kids" thing. But, I was drawn back to my blog to day to look for some documentation I know I had related to the birth of my first son, who turned 7 at 4:06PM today. In that process, I realized how much I miss blogging/journaling. It's not about have an audience, but it is about getting my thoughts and memories committed to "paper."

So, I thought I'd add something little while I'm here...

About a year ago, my husband took our two boys (who at the time were 3 and 5) to get cookies from a local coffee shop. They came home bragging about their cookies. "Mine was yellow!" "Mine was purple!" "Mom, mom, they were DINOSAUR footprints!!" Then John's deadpan response, "... or tulips."

Haha! What a great laugh! And, what a great commentary on the perspective of boys of the world around them. I absolutely LOVE it!

More soon... promise!