Showing posts from March, 2012

If Heaven's Not my Home

...then, Lord, what will I do?
I mean, if this earth, this body, this microcosm is all I have - I have nothing. You have my heart. You, and only You accept me in pure, divine, un-contaminated, holy love.
I am a fool to look to this world to satisfy. My heart must be anchored to You in Your dwelling - which is my true home. Let me not think that this world has anything to offer. Let me be dissatisfied with it's trinkets and lures - and long even more for my true home with You.
It isn't heaven so much that I long for - though heaven sounds grand - but the God Who has sought, wooed and won my heart that has captured my longings. The very physical presence of God, which I know in some small sense here - because the kingdom of God has taken up residence within me - will be all the more evident. His radiant glory will be seen - and His presence known in ways I cannot fathom.
So, Lord, continue to capture my heart. And let me live patiently here - with this sin-sick world and my …

Tiger, Helicopter or The Bunny Rabbit

I am a Bunny Mom. You read that right. Not a Tiger. Not a Helicopter. But a Bunny Rabbit
You see, I do not drive my kids to overexhaustion with activity and accolades. But I think it sounds like a nice idea.
I don't hover over my kids, worrying and fussing, and filling in their gaps. But it sounds like something I'd like to try someday.
I am a perfectly created type B, Bunny Rabbit Mom.
I putter from thing to thing - sniffing the air, nibbling on stuff along the way, pleasantly plump, just a little fluffy - only lacking the floppy ears - and digging my nose into the nest to see what I find. This goes right along with being an ADD Mom.
You have heard of A.D.D. - Attention Deficit Disorder - which is really a misnomer - ADDers can be hyper-focused for lengthy periods of time - and in my opinion it is only a disorder because the other 90% of people think we're odd. People say it's on the rise. Not true. It's just we were hardwired this way by our Creator and ou…

Recent Pictures of the kids!


Contentment is NOT a Spiritual Gift

If you're tired of me talking about contentment, get used to it, because this bee in my bonnet does not seem to go away. I do not do well with whiney people, be they kids or adults. If you want to annoy me and stir up my own discontent, just let your discontent overflow to me. The challenge for me comes in those cases to not allow others' joylessness to steal my joy.
Some seem to side-step this topic because, well, it just isn't their strong suit. I mean, can't I just use the cop-out, 'It's not my gift,' and go on my merry way, pursuing more and more and distracting myself from deeper soul issues with the search for the next thing - that thing being not only material possessions, but other pursuits as well: education, health, organic anything/everything, creative money-saving endeavours (though time-consuming)...
I believe if I sat at a proverbial Lemonade Stand that said, 'Contentment for sale!' I'd have NO customers. I wonder if people re…

Because I'll forget, part 2

I wonder if I'll remember the fun times as well as the silly or trying times. Do parents remember the quandaries of what to do because the 5 y/o is perpetually misbehaving at bedtime, keeping the 10 y/o awake!?
Will I remember sitting on a stool outside their door, listening for the first one to make a sound and jumping in to startle and scare them so they'll stay quiet next time?
Will I remember lying in bed with each child and praying over them, long, long passages of Scripture from memory so as to bore them into sleepdom? Will I remember which were their favourite hymns to have sung to them at bedtime?
Like tonight, when Timo said, 'If you keep singing 'The Lord's my Shepherd' I won't know any other songs!' At which point I switched to 'Tis so sweet to Trust in Jesus.'
Or when I asked Caleb what song he'd like, and he said, 'How firm a foundation' which he recently learned at school.
Will I remember rewarding them with back-scratc…

My Socks

The other day Hannah spit up after I had just changed her, and I naturally exclaimed, 'Oh Hannah! You've decorated your nice outfit, time to go change again!' At which point Priscilla bust out laughing and started repeating, 'Hannah decorated her outfit!' Now whenever I spill something, or Hannah spits up on me, Priscilla will say with a laugh, 'Did you decorate Mommy's shirt Hannah?!'
I then realized that though I hadn't really said it to be funny, the way it sounded to young ears WAS quite funny. It got me to reflect on how children hear things - as literal. And I remembered being a kid too. In fact, I have such strong memories partly because I told myself, 'Never forget this when you are an adult. Try to remember this so you can understand children later.' In my world there were kids and there were adults, and adults were a confusing breed of their own. I somehow recognized I'd become one of them someday but I felt like I'd…

Because I'll forget

I don't remember those early Mommy years - I don't recall the day-to-day - perhaps because my head was swimming with sleeplessness and responsibility.
Fast forward to now - Hannah, six months and the others all in their own little childhood world, and I believe I'll forget these days.
I will write my thoughts and memories to capture a sense of my days. I will note the size of her dimpled hand exploring my face, and deciding to pull on my nose for a while, just for the experience of how it feels.
I will note how her hands are learning to work together - first the left holds the toy, and the right reaches for it, but the left is selfish and won't let go!
For the record, I will write how she likes to just lie on her back and kick her legs, sometimes waving her arms too - happy and content to have movement. And how when she gets sleepy she cracks the biggest smiles, wiggles her head back and forth and shuts her eyes for a second, before cracking another huge smile and doing …

Biggest Frugal Tip Ever

I was looking at a Frugal Mommies blog (can't recall which one) recently and looked through my blog and realized that other than posting recipes from scratch I have put very little here about my frugality obsession. Now I say 'obsession' but that means different things to different people. For instance, my sister is extremely gifted in deal hunting, gathering, selling and profit-making off of superior garage-sale finds and the like. I can't sell anything to anyone ever. I tried a garage sale once and it was a total flop, other than that it kept the kids busy all day. But it was torturous for me. However, I do have many things I do to be frugal, and perhaps I will write more on the matter at some point. I just want to get out my BIGGEST Frugal Tip EVER, because it is really not what you are expecting.
I know - you are looking for how to save money, how to DIY, how to economize, scrounge, scrimp and the like (hey, this week I made a dish scrubby out of the plastic …

Chicken Curry

Here is how I make my curry:
Saute: Onions in a big pot with butter. During this, add: 1-3 tsp curry powder (I make my own, or sometimes have some from an Asian store) 1/2 tsp coriander (ground, not the leaves) 1/2 tsp cinnamon fresh grated ginger (about 1 T) 1/4 tsp ground ginger 1/2 tsp cumin I ran out of Cardamom - but if I had it I'd sprinkle some in. All these measurements are guesses. I just sprinkle stuff in throughout. 1-4 cloves minced garlic. 1 can tomato paste (optional - you can leave this out if you like)
If you want to be really professional, use Ghee instead of butter. But I never have Ghee on hand.
Then add 1-2 quarts Chicken broth (I use water and some boullion/salt, because I'm cheap, and I figure I'll boil the chicken plenty to get the good stuff).
Throw in cubed/chunked carrots - about 10, or 3 cups worth, cubed/chunked potato (peeled if you like) - as many or few as you'd like - I do about 4 big ones.
Then I throw in the chicken - maybe 6+ legs or whatever …

Interrupting, Anger and Ground Rules

Here we go again. The age old, Is-Interrupting-a-sin? debate. Maybe it's not age-old. Just seems that way - in our household anyways. Thankfully, after many lengthy discussions, Sam and I have tabled it pretty much, coming to an understanding that we just view this a bit differently and that is okay because we love each other and we will try to appease the other and extend grace to the other as much as possible. If only it were so simple with everyone else in the world. (And for the record, it would be me trying to appease - as in, not interrupt - and Sam would be the one extending grace, for the times I fail to bite my tongue).
I have often thought I should just make a sign and paste it to my forehead that reads: 'Interrupt me please. Otherwise I won't stop talking.' Or have a handy card to hand out to people who are just meeting or getting to know me that explains that my version of conversation is such that I talk until someone else starts, and then I jump in…

Scott Hamilton - I Am Second

How We Got Our Bellybuttons

Here is a story my Grandpa Walker used to tell us when we were kids. I just told it to Timo this morning. I hope he believes me as much as I believed my Grandpa. Only when I finally studied Biology did I learn the truth!

When God was making you, and putting you all together, He finally finished His work and took a good look at you. "Hmmm, I think this one needs to be hung up to dry." So He put you up on the line, pinning you there until you were good and dry.

Then, He went along to see all the new babies He had made, testing them to see if they were done yet. And each time one of the kids was 'done' He would take His finger and poke them in the belly, and say, "Yup, you're done!" And the place where He put His finger left a little knot on your belly, and that is how you got your bellybutton!

The End.

On Not Being Adopted

When I was a little girl (about 4 years old), we lived in a house that had a big yard (by four-year-old standards) and was near enough to some friends of ours whose two girls were around our age. What more could a kid want? A yard and friends - I was pretty content. Problem was, our foursome (my big sister, Cathy, me, Sheryl - Cathy's age, and Janice, younger than I was), had three who were similar and one who was different. Guess who the different one was? That's right. So, all was not well with my little contented world. And there was nothing I could do to change it.
You see, my parents had longed for children. They had tried and tried and tested and waited and hoped and prayed... and after 9 years, still no baby. The doctors had told my Mom, 'You will never conceive.' She was devastated and continued to hope and dream of bearing a child - a conglomeration of DNA from her dear husband and herself. After such a long wait, they decided to look into adoption, …