Race

What a funny word.  My first thought, I have ran in races.  I have completed the Lincoln 1/2 Marathon 3 years in a row.  I have done fun runs this year, too.  The fun runs are A LOT of fun.
However, run, also, makes me think of the little balls of energy that are forever in motion around here.  And, recently how I have felt stretched to thin as I try to keep up with them and do somethings apart from them.  I race all day long from the time my feet hit the floor till I crawl into bed and pass-out from exhaustion.
I have been working on figuring out again, for like the millionth time in my life, how to say, "No."  And, then, I walk into church to hear a sermon on needing to say, "Yes."  I can't be stretched thinner.  But, we are to help our fellow Christians.  How do you do the things preached about from the Bible and not stretch yourself to thin?
Being a stay-at-home, home schooling, mama of 3 seems like a full-time, and I don't mean just 40 hours a week, job.  However, if I, then, want to spend time on my hobby/passion teaching pregnant couples unmedicated childbirth, and occasionally working as a doula.  Plus, take on helping in the church nursery because they need help and helping with Sunshine Bunch because they need help and having fellowship and getting to know the other ladies at our church.  Plus, BSF, Cub Scouts, and AWANA.  Plus, ministering to my unbelieving family in the hopes they will see Christ in me and want to get to know him too...
Where do I say, "no"?
How do I say, "no"?

Welcome

Welcome home.  Welcome in.  Welcome, Dear God, what am I going to write?
Welcome home is not a common phrase in my life.  I have never moved away from home.  I have lived 34 years in the town where I was born.  I can take a less than an hour drive and drive past every residence I have ever lived in.
My parents' bought their current home two weeks before their first child, me, arrived.
I know I am always welcomed there.  Same with my grandparents' home, even though it has changed addresses and my grandpa is no longer in his rocking chair, I am always welcome there.
This week I celebrated my 34th birthday.  My grandpa, if he were still alive, would have celebrated his 82nd birthday.  Today, my youngest celebrates his 4th birthday.
Not feeling welcomed is probably a stronger word to write about.  I never felt welcomed in the church where I was raised.  It wasn't till I was 21 and first met Jesus that I finally was "welcomed" at church.  I felt like I belonged, FINALLY!  After all those years of going to church and trying to be "good enough."
As part of the family of Christ, I am amazed where I feel welcomed.  I am amazed at how small the Christian community in my home town is.  In this city of 200,000+ it seems like if you meet someone and they are a Christian, they know pretty much everyone you know who is a Christan.  It keeps facebook interesting, seeing who is related to whom.
I started BSF again this fall, like the last 6 falls before it.  My discussion leader has the same name as a girl I went to high school with.  So, I ask girl from high school, via facebook, how they are related..."She's my aunt."
This town sure is small sometimes.  But, God's love and welcome is spread far and wide.


Come play along...

Grasp

When my Little Men were very young, I learned that they weren't mine.
It was an interesting process.  God didn't bless us with children in the easy way others are blessed with them.  We had to work for ours.  I had surgery, shots, charting, and frustration.  There were tears, angry words, and hurts.
THEN, we found out we were expecting!  There were more shots, lots of ultra-sounds.
I became a Christian at the age of 21.  I was not secretive about our fertility issues.  I would tell anyone willing to listen and even some who weren't willing.  However, I learned that often these people would offer to pray for me, for my family.
So, when our first Little Man came along, I realized I had no hold on him.  He is mine.  God gave him to my husband and me.  But, he belongs to God.  He belongs to all those wonderful people who prayed for him to exsist.
Then, our middlest came along.  He was not as hard to get, coming just a short 18 months after his big brother.  Two Little Men in 18 months.  He is not mine.  I did not work for him.  I do not deserve him.  I am so blessed to call him son and mine.
Our youngest came along 21 months later.  Again, he is not mine.  He is a blessing from God for one so undeserving.
I am truly blessed as I grasp these Little Men and enjoy them every day for as long as God allows.

You can come play along by clicking on the picture. 

Wide

I wish my bed was wider.  As I sit here watching my husband and three sons fight over the covers.  The giggles, squeeles, tugging, and tucking as they all try to get a piece of the blankets. 
My youngest is not on the bed, but with his little feet planted firmly on the floor, he tries to pull all the covers off the bed.  He, then, drops them and starts peeking under them, looking for toes to tickle, I imagine.  My husbands foot pops out and my youngest lets out a laugh.
My middlest, has the covers over his head and almost looks like just a pile of blankets, minus the giggles and comments coming from the pile.
My husband is participating in one of his favorite a.m. activities.  His HAM radio is cracking and popping as men check-in for the morning.  He comments about Dave as he signs on for the day.  My children know Dave, we have picked apples in his backyard. 
My youngest has reset my timer.  As I tell him to, "STOP," I figure my time is about up and I should, STOP.

Focus

Focus...This makes me smile. 
I go to open up the prompt in my e-mail box knowing, "it will just take 5 minutes."  But, behind me, I hear a 7-year-old calling for the dog laying at my feet.  Not our little cocker spaniel, but my parents' labra doodle.
My 5-year-old is asking for more popcorn and can't find his bowl which was lost to the underside of the couch and can't be retrieved for all the other items that disappear under there.
My 3-year-old is quiet at the moment.  Wonder what that means...
So, I get popcorn and a new cup for my 5-year-old.  And grab the timer set for 5 minutes 10 seconds and head back to my bedroom to spend, "just 5 minutes," typing on focus.  :-)
I really look forward to these 5-minutes.  I am glad I caught it sooner this week then last.  Last week, it was Saturday night before I remembered.  Today it is Friday 6:30pm.
My youngest is crying as my 5-year-old says, "I'm heading to tell on you," then walks in the room in tears.  Lead by my 7-year-old tattling on his 5-year-old brother and bouncing on my bed.
Focus.  I enjoy focusing on them.  When I am done with my 5-minutes, my 7-year-old needs to do some school.  My 5-year-old needs a snuggle.  And my 3-year-old needs help picking up whatever his older brothers found necessary to tattle on him for.  So, I'm off to once again focus on those bouncy bundles of energy.
I'm blessed.

Graceful

Graceful?  Who?  Not me.
I am tall and awkward.
Now that I have grown, I am more graceful than my youth would have suggested I would be.
I have more confidence now.  Then I ever thought I would see in me.
Sometimes, I wish I could go back and have the confidence of my 30s back in my teenage days.  However, when I really think about it, I realize that God protected me.
The confidence of my youth, if there had been such a thing, would have lead to poor choices.  There was little guidance in my teenage years.  Some fear, but not an adult that would guide and watch over to keep me from making stupid mistakes.
So, God provided.  He provided awkwardness.  He provided a poor sense of style.  He provided enough fear not to wear anything to revealing.  He provided a lack of interest in boys and boys having very little interest in me.  He allowed me to come with few scars through the trauma of adolescence.  So, as a 21 year-old I could fall into His arms.  And find security, style, faith, confidence, and a boy who was interested in me.  THEN, He provided three Little Men who don't care if I'm graceful or in-style and who call me Mommy.







 

Change

It is that time of year when everything seems to be changing. 
For one, we are in Kansas this weekend with my in-laws.  We are not doing our normal routine.
For two, next week when we return home, we will be diving into the fall routine.  We home school and started school a week and a half ago.  That was a change too.  For the first time, I have a 1st grader, actual laid out curricula, and major goals and objectives for him for the school year.  I, also, have a kindergartner. 
After we get through most of next week, I will start teaching a co-op class for home schoolers.  I am planning to teach cooking to 8 1st-3rd graders.  My boys will, for the first time, take classes.  My oldest is going to take a chess class.  My middlest is going to take an art and tumbling class.  And, my youngest is taking a story time class.
The following week, we dive back into BSF.
And, then, the following week AWANA starts.
Some time in there, I need to confirm that I will be starting or not starting a child birth series.  Currently, I only have one couple signed up for the class.   I wish more people realized the importance of taking a non-hospital affiliated child birth class.  And, I look forward to when my life will be less busy that I will be able to advertise.  However, currently, my life is wonderful.  God plans my classes or lack there of and for the most part, I'm okay with that.