It’s the little things…

When I came back from living in Africa, I knew I’d never take another hot shower or flushing toilet for granted again!

Now, I know this following daily miracle may be a little gross, but if you’ve ever been there, you’ll understand…

Unfortunately, my littlest likes to be “really really clean” and uses so much toilet paper that she clogs my toilet on a fairly common basis.  Usually, I can just plunge it and it will be fine, but every once in a while, it’s oh so NOT fine.

The first time that happened, we had 27 people from our small group over.  The toilet overflowed onto the floor -so much so that I barely stopped the mess from going out the bathroom door!  Embarrassing, inconvenient, and yucky.  Plus, it really made me wonder if our house was cut out to host that many people.  That night, I tried and tried to unstop the toilet with the plunger, but to no avail.  Finally, I got really serious in my prayers (God KNOWS I can’t afford a plumber!) and the toilet started working again.  Daily miracle or coincidence?

Three days ago, the OTHER toilet stopped up.  Again, I prayed and plunged, but the clog wouldn’t budge.  I went online and tried all the “home remedies” (and ended up with soap bubbles coming out the other toilet!) but nothing worked.  I tried to get a snake/auger, but was thwarted in that plan, too.  The pressure of those 27 plus people coming over again soon and my having only one working toilet was stressing me out.  After three days of no success in unstopping the toilet,  I finally started to look for a plumber.  I had no peace about calling one, though, so I decided to give it one more “plunge and prayer”.  Lo and behold, the toilet started flowing again!

Now, I’m not saying God has anything against plumbers, or that He wouldn’t have provided the money to pay one if needed.  I’m just SO grateful He blessed us with working toilets!  It reminded me that it’s often the little things that add joy to our lives, but they are just as often taken for granted.  I guess in the past dozen years, I HAVE started to take toilets for granted…but I am going to make a better effort to be thankful for them -and for the God of the porcelain!

P.S. Daddy has had a real serious chat with his princess about the appropriate amount of paper to use, so hopefully this will be the last blog about toilets!

I wanna be like my daughter when I grow up!

     I wonder at what age we loose our confidence in our intrinsic value. I know my daughter hasn’t hit that age yet! She still states her worth with authority. “I did a good job.”  “I’m THE princess.” “He likes me; he’s my friend.” (Of a stranger) “Yay for me!” (accompanied by hand clapping.) When she’s lacking in authority, she borrows some with no compunction. “Mama said so.” “Daddy told me.” (Mama and Daddy of course have said no such thing.) She’ll even intone “The Bible says.” The latest greatest? “That’s my answer. Ok? OK.” (Wonder where she gets that last one….)

     I, on the other hand, have much less confidence. I know I’m a good (albeit not perfect) teacher. Yet the idea of my upcoming parent-teacher conferences has me shaking in my boots. My nervousness has even infected another teacher! Ideally, I should rest in my security in my skill and training and my honest desire to help my class. Instead, I’m worried I’ll say something that will come out wrong (an all-too-common occurrence), loose my job, go under financially, world ends, etc.

     This is –unfortunately- NOT the only place I lack in confidence. There are days (more than I want to admit) where I feel I’m not truly succeeding at anything. In individual situations I can believe like my daughter, but as a whole I lack confidence in my direction. I want that confidence to clap for myself!  Of course, I realize that will only come when I stop looking at me as the source of confidence. Easier said than done! I think I’ll bring this verse with me to my conferences:

The fruit of righteousness will be peace; the effect of righteousness will be quietness and confidence forever. (Isaiah 32:17 NIV)

The quietness would be a bonus gift

Ordinary Life

     A dear friend recently complained “I am finding myself in a tremendous amount of activity but very little is being accomplished!”  Especially this time of year, I can empathize with that sentiment.  One of the things no one warns you when you are growing up is that the adult life is very mundane, filled with a myriad of details to keep track of and endless tasks to perform and re-perform.  I often wonder what happened to that “world-changer” little girl I was –especially as I clean the house.  (Hubby says: Cleaning a house with young kids is like shoveling snow during a blizzard!)

     Frankly, I think we’d all like to see ourselves as Billy Graham or Mother Theresa, or anyone the world could point to as “doing something of value”, but most of us are called to obscure lives.  But then, it was in similar “obscurity” that so many of our Biblical heroes lived.  They may have had their moments of miracles but -like you and me- they walked their everyday in the ordinary.

     I try to remember it was their encounter with God that made their lives extraordinary, just as it is our relationship with Him that lifts us from the mundane. After all, even Jesus lived an “Ordinary Life” for more than ninety percent of His life.  Along this line, I love the quote from Mohandas Gandhi: “Whatever you do may seem insignificant to you, but it is most important that you do it.”

     If I can get through the day smiling a little more, yelling at my kids a little less, and continuing to open my heart to God’s amazing grace, then maybe I accomplished something after all.  (OK, enough preaching…on to the dishes.)

Emergency…or not

     I’m writing this in a *yawn* sleep deprived state, so I hope it clearly articulates the events of yesterday.  We had a wonderful, relaxing (as it can be) Thanksgiving with family and friends, and came home around eight o’clock.  Genna had been struggling with asthma all day, so we pulled out the nebulizer for a breathing treatment then realized Evan was having trouble, too. 

      We treated them both but Evan got worse. After about an hour we treated him yet again, but by ten he was still really struggling so we called the doctor.  She prescribed an oral steroid and yet another treatment.  By midnight he had had eight doses of different medicines but was still coughing and struggling to breathe so we decided to take him to the ER.

     The problem was this would be our second trip in the one week, (Genevieve had needed something removed from her nose).  I made the mistake of grumbling out loud that we REALLY couldn’t afford another ER visit.  But a son who can’t breathe constitutes an emergency in my book.

      As we got into the car, I noticed a slight bark to his cough and thought “It can’t be croup at his age.”  The ER was almost empty (a miracle in itself!) and we were seen within ten minutes.  The PA came right to the bed and spent almost thirty minutes examining Evan and chatting with me about treatment options and diagnostic tips.  He determined it was indeed laryngotracheobronchitis (aka croup) causing an asthma attack. 

      Here comes the amazing part: After all this time with us, the PA decided I’d done all the right treatments and there was nothing to be done other than wait it out and continue treatments at home.  He shook my hand, said “No charge”, and showed us out.  I stood there in shock!  The receptionist came over and confirmed the doctor had indeed treated us for free.  “It’s his way when he feels the ER didn’t really do anything,” she said.  Boy, I  sure felt like half an hour learning how to better identify, control, treat asthma was something!

      On the way home Evan asked “How often do doctors not make you pay, Mommy?”  I told him I’d been visiting ERs for over 20 years and NEVER been treated for free.  “Well, we’re blessed.” he said.  Amen!  What an awesome opportunity to teach my son that…

 Blessings accrue on a good and honest life. Proverbs 10:6 (The Message)

 

Wrong way. Right turn.

Have you ever gone against your better judgment and not quite understood why? That happened to me yesterday!

     It started when I went to IKEA. My mother-in-law had never been and was curious about it after having heard my seven-year-old son rave about it for months. (It’s the best store in the world, Nana! The rooms are decorated so nicely and the furniture is amazing!) So, since we had the day off school we piled three kids in her van and drove the two hours down.

     After SEVEN HOURS of wonder we left with a van packed to the rafters. As I pulled out and crossed three lanes to get to our ramp I felt I should go right instead. Now, I have made this trip before and know the way home –left. Besides, it took rudeness and recklessness to cross three lanes in the first place; no way was I crossing back! Still, I felt I should go right.

     It was such a strong feeling I said aloud, “I know we should go left, but I feel we should go right.” My mother-in-law told me: “Go right then!” Right took us out of our way to a toll road. We travelled along for an hour and a half then were stopped 15 miles from home by an accident. We sat –and sat– and the van started to shake! The van died and we were stranded. Drama drama…yadda yadda… My husband came (2 hours later) so I could take the kids out of there (tow trucks only hold 2 but we were 5 people) and we had the van towed. More drama…blah blah.

     Here’s the interesting part: The route we should have taken had five accidents on it –all more than an hour from home with the first being right after where I changed paths. Apparently, had we sat in any of those our van would have died there. Instead, I went against my better judgment and took a right. We were stranded close to home where my husband could come get us and the van could be towed to our excellent mechanic.

   So…daily miracle or coincidence? I choose to believe God guided me, especially since I got “the feeling” right after praying for a safe journey home. God doesn’t prevent the chaos; He works his grace within it.

Proverbs 3:6 Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.

Thank God He does!

The choices of maturity…Part 2

Ok, so part two on which job I chose…and continuing on the theme that God gives us choices to exercise our maturity.

 Naturally, I made lists weighing the pros and cons of each job, asked advice, prayed, drove my husband nuts with “discussions” (he actually fell asleep on the couch during these!), and generally went crazy trying to pick the “right” one. So, I set out my fleece (Judges 6).

 First, I asked God to let me meet up with one of the other sales people so I could ask them some questions anonymously. That very day I was an hour early for an appointment and bumped into one and had a great discussion. He loved his job and claimed the service sold itself. Answered prayer.

 Next, I asked God if He wanted me to be a teacher to give me the 4-year-old teaching job instead of the 2-year-old teaching job, and that very day the 4-year-old teacher resigned for a different job. Answered prayer.

 Then, I told God if I were to take the stay-at-home job I’d need some more clients. I got a call that night for 2 cleaning jobs. Answered prayer.

 HELLO! THIS WASN’T HELPING! Then I realized I was still asking God to pick a job rather than trusting Him to help me exhibit maturity by choosing.

 Finally, I weighed the jobs against the values God was working on within me.

The Sales Job: I’ve always chased money; it’s been a god I’ve struggled with since I was a small child. The sales job seemed to bring out that monster in me and I wasn’t sure I could handle the temptation to work overtime, weekends, etc. to get more money.  Since I struggle with money giving me security, I also wasn’t sure I could handle the ups and downs of sales. This didn’t fit with my values of seeking peace for my family and viewing money as a tool, not an end.

The At-home Job: So many friends warned me about opening a home daycare. They advised that my children would get the short shrift of care and I would get involved in solving everyone’s problems but my own family’s. (I tend to be a rescuer.) Also, the hours were really long once you factored in that I’d have to work cleaning jobs too. This didn’t fit with my values of being available when my kids are home and putting my energy into my family.

The teaching job. The pay was small. But, the Director just radiates God’s loving acceptance: something I struggle to receive. The hours were fantastic and I’d have the same days off as my kids. Genna could be with me at the school or with her Nana –both good for her. The teaching gave me a chance to instill God into small children: something I love. But the money was so small –and two of the kids were beyond terrible!  

In the end, I made the choice. 1) Trust God -not a job- for provision. 2) Put my family first and work a job around them -not the other way around as I have in the past. 3) As a bonus, choose a job that allows me to connect to the eternal. (Important since I don’t want to spend a lot of time volunteering when I have 3 small kids.) As you probably guessed, I took the teaching job. It’s the first time in my life I haven’t made a job choice based on money!

 If God truly gives us choices as an opportunity to exercise maturity, I hope my choice reflects that by His grace I’ve moved a little farther in the race toward the crown. (1 Cor. 9)

The choices of maturity…

     So I’ve had an interesting (read: awful) struggle this week. I spent six weeks looking for a job, spending several hours a day researching, applying, working on my resume, interviewing, following up, etc. After weeks of fruitless effort, I was feeling pretty frustrated. (Yes, I know six weeks isn’t that long and the economy is bad now, but I’ve never had trouble before.) Our finances are desperate, and I really needed to work!

      Then on my way to yet another interview, I got a call telling me I was hired at a preschool. It was a job I was thrilled to get, but I decided against being a no-show at the interview and kept driving. I got hired at that one, too –and really liked the financial possibilities of sales. Then, the next day, I got a call about another job I had put a lot of effort into getting –an at-home job. So, here I was with three jobs I wanted–sounds like a good thing, right? Except that I couldn’t sleep for four nights trying to pick one.

     I was actually angry with God for “making it so hard”. I mean, if I had just one job option, it would be so easy to figure out what He wanted me to do! And then when the inevitable job difficulties came up I could rest in the assurance that this was the job God led me to. What if I chose wrong? My family’s financial AND mental peace would be jeopardized.

     The conclusion I came to is this: God must put these harder choices before us as evidence of our growing maturity. I give my two-year-old two to three choices max, and sometimes none at all. I give my seven-year-old far more alternatives. Hopefully, he’ll grow to make a good choice when the options are vast –like choosing a career or a mate. Perhaps I should be grateful the choice because it shows God finds me mature enough to make the hard choice in this case.

     Well, the dinner timer is beeping and the kids are fighting, so more on which job I chose -and why- next time!

Daily Miracles

     We live our lives by Daily Miracles…coincidences and chance happening that are easily missed yet speak of the limitless care of God. My oldest sister has been “suggesting” for a while that I start a blog tracking these miracles. I’ve never been the diary-keeper type, but now that I’ve reached my 30^th year, it seems like as good a time as any to take her advice.

      This blog is basically for me as I recall the goodness of God, but I hope it will be an encouragement to you as well. I’ll be sharing my personal life and opinions. However, since I’m ever-growing it will be interesting to look back and see if I agree with myself in the future!

      OK. Here goes: It seems we are continually living on the knife edge financially. This is the first time I’m been unemployed since age 9, but I can’t find work despite desperately searching for a job. I have one paying job; it pays $20 a week. My husband’s job isn’t paying commissions or overtime. Every week it seems we are down to our last few bucks praying I’ve balanced that checkbook right.

      Saturday morning we had $40 in our checking account to last 9 days. From that I needed a week’s worth of gas for my husband to commute 3 hours a day, food for 25 in our small group, and $100 tithe. (No, it doesn’t add up. Yes, that’s the kind of math I live in.) I could charge or pull out our measly savings to help, but we’ve made a commitment not to do that. So, Blake and I told God we didn’t have tithe money unless HE provided it.

 Saturday night a check for two month’s pay ($220) was in our mailbox.

      It sounds so easy when I write it out, but frankly it’s exhausting. My takeaway? The prophet Isaiah sums it up:  But I said, “I have labored to no purpose; I have spent my strength in vain and for nothing.  (I hear that! Fortunately, he continues.) Yet what is due me is in the LORD’s hand, and my reward is with my God.” Isa. 49:4 (NIV)