In which little girls are apparently thick on the ground . . .

The scene: My two boys, neither of whom has hit double digits, are eating dinner at home with me and my husband. Older boy has burped with a wide-open mouth for, oh, maybe the fifth time in the meal. Mom is DONE. So, I try to make this a teaching time, you know, about life.

Me: Older son, you know some day, when you're 17 or 18, you're going to want to take a pretty girl out on a date. If ya'll are sitting at the table and you do that, she is going to want you to take her right home, and won't go out with you again.

Older son: (nonchalantly) So, that's when I'll need a back-up plan.

Me: (totally confused) A back-up plan?

Younger son: (In the well-of-course-voice) Yeah, another little girl.

Me: (trying to smother instant laughter) Well, see there's a problem with that plan. Teen-age girls would talk about these things, and the first little girl would tell the second about how older son has horrible manners.

Younger son: (shrugs eloquently, like of course this is no big deal): Well, then you need a third little girl.

Older son: (piling on here) Yeah.

My husband: Laughing uncontrollably.

Me: Also laughing uncontrollably, and thinking well, at this rate, I won't have to worry about them dating at all.

Just an example. The younger son is six, and honey, we rarely catch him flatfooted. He has an answer for everything. Maybe in my retirement years he can support me with his lawyer's salary.

Bible study

My church's women's group finished our study last night. It was this one, and was a great choice for this group. The workbook was frustrating because of some highly annoying graphic design and editing goofs, but the study was wonderful, and Liz is a phenomenally gifted speaker. So, now we're looking for another one. Although I love Beth Moore and have participated in three of her studies, the group just isn't ready for that yet. We're looking for 6 weeks, and some homework. Anyone have suggestions you've tried?

Fragility

I received an email yesterday from a dear friend at church. Her children are the same age as mine. Her mother has cancer and is hospitalized, and she is overwhelmed with the burden. It brought me to tears when praying for them -- that was our family, four years ago.

My father was terminally ill, four hours away, and we were overwhelmed. Physically, emotionally, and sometimes spiritually. It's the little things that sometimes send you over the edge - the grocery store trip that didn't happen, the homework that was forgotten, the laundry that needs to be washed. The children's questions that you can't answer. The situation you never thought you'd be in - my dad wasn't yet sixty when he died.

I've thought a lot since that time about how fragile life is. We all live like we're promised forever, like every day will go on just like the day before. We cling to life desperately, trying to wring every happiness we can out of our days. However, God didn't promise us forever here on earth, and I don't think He means for us to be that frantically attached to our life here. Forever is a promise to our souls, and unless we believe in his Son's sacrifice on the cross for our sins, that forever isn't pleasant at all. If we do, however, accept His invitation to believe, confess our sins, and follow Him, then, in His graciousness and mercy, He gives us forever, in heaven, with Him. Perfection for eternity. So why do we still long so much to stay here, where sickness, cruelty and sin rob us of so much joy?

My dad is healed in heaven. He will never again struggle for breath, never cry a tear, never have another panic attack. Do I miss him any less? (Of course not -- I'm in tears just thinking about it). Am I comforted knowing I will see him again someday? Absolutely. But I still hug my boys tighter, cherish my husband and my mom more, and look at life differently because I know, now, that it is short. That I can't control its duration, any more than I can control the weather.

Thinking of my friend, I longed to tell her of the good things God redeemed from that time. Both of my boys have made salvation decisions (because we prayed and talked about heaven so much, I think.) One of my friends selflessly poured her time and energy into our lives, taking care of so much for me and teaching me so much about joyful service. But that's so hard for my friend to think about right now. So I told her, instead, the truth: we're praying for her, as her church family, we're here for her, and I will do anything she will let me do to help her.

Because I know what fragile is. And I know what my Savior would have me do. And I long to be the woman, someday, that he wants me to be.

A Friday Without Plans

Today, I rose from my bed, ambled out to the kitchen to check the calendar, and lo! What surprise! Nothing is scheduled for today. After I double- and triple-checked, (true story: I once missed a final because I didn't read the final exam schedule correctly) I began calling my friends (after dropping the kids off at school, of course). The conversations went something like this:

Me: Hello? Good friend? Can you come out and play today?

Good Friend: Nope. Lots of commitments, things to get done while the kids are in school.

Me: No? Well, it's short notice, we'll do it again sometime.

Me: Hello? Just as good friend? Can you come out and play today?

Just as Good Friend: Well, no. Plans to clean the house, bake, other commitments while the kids are at school.

Me: No? Okay, it's short notice, we'll pick another time.

Me: Well, that stinks. I'm boooooooored. I waaaaaant someeeeeebody to plaaaaaaay with. Oh, my. Those words, and that tone of voice, aren't allowed in this house.
Should I go outside to say them?


Actual conclusion: I guess I'll spend this day working on some of those projects I never seem to have time to complete. Gee, doesn't that sound exciting?

Thankful

Wow, what a nasty night! I'm not much on reading scientific studies and all, but the fact that these kinds of storms are in January and February and not, oh I don't know, March and April, says that maybe there's something to this whole global warming thing. Seasons sure don't look now like they did when I was a kid. I don't think we had more than a handful of bad thunderstorms all spring and summer, and then we're getting them in the wintertime instead.

I am so thankful that we came out of it okay. No tornadoes, just a series of storms and then one last storm with really strong straight-line winds. We live in a windy area and are pretty accustomed to strong gusts, especially since we live on a hill overlooking a field, and there's nothing to break the wind. Last night, however, was a whole new ballgame. We spent some time in our downstairs bathroom as a family (just appreciating family togetherness?), and the wind drove in rain all around my front door to the point that it took three big bath towels to sop up most of it. Is that a big deal? Certainly not. Was I wearing my knees out in prayer? Absolutely.

So, today I'm praying for those who lost so much last night. That the Lord will restore them. That He will comfort grieving families. That His provision will be powerful, visible and miraculous. And that this will be a reminder to those of us who could use it to be thankful for blessings and open-handed and generous in sharing them with others.

Sick days and Miracles

The big boy has been home sick for the past two days. Which is something that has rarely happened since he had his tonsils and adenoids out just before he turned 2. It's really amazing how quickly they're no longer little any more -- it used to be that when he was sick, I was constantly needed for something. Now, he doesn't want me hovering over him, he wants a book, maybe some TV, and peace and quiet. Which is pretty much what I want when I get sick. But somehow, that leaves me feeling like I'm not doing my job.

It's amazing how quickly I can forget to appreciate that he is here at all. Big boy was born at 24 weeks gestation, weighing 1.6 lbs, almost 10 years ago. He spent about four months in the hospital, with lots of complications along the way, but came home healthy and hasn't had to be hospitalized since, except for one night with the tonsillectomy. He is a miracle walking around (or actually today, lying around) in my house. He shouldn't be leading a happy, healthy fourth-grader's life, but he is, because God has a plan for him --- that involves growing up! (which is intended to make Moms obsolete, isn't it?)

We are going today for a blood test that might show a slight problem with his endocrine system and I have been all worked up about this, worrying as if my life (or his) depended on it. As if I didn't learn almost ten years ago that God is in control, and I am not. A point that was pretty emphatically driven home when I couldn't even control my own body to keep him from being born.

I remembered this morning, looking at him, what it felt like to look at him when he was little, and sick, and so needy. And instead of feeling unnecessary (which I've been struggling with a bit lately), I think I'll choose instead to be grateful. If he doesn't need me so much, it's by God's grace. If he has this small problem, it's manageable -- and that's by God's grace, too. So, maybe I'll be obsolete as a Mom someday. But if God has a plan for him, he has one for me, too. Plans to prosper, and not to harm. Plans for hope, and a future -- and I can't wait!