A peek inside our Holy Week :)

I wanted to share with you our week leading up to Resurrection Sunday!
Last year I was thrilled doing a small garden with the girls that showed the empty tomb, etc. This year I took it a step further and we did a lesson and activity every night. Some nights included Justin and I acting out the story which brushed us both up on our theatre skills. It was nothing short of awesome. And fun. And beneficial. And some nights emotional. 

Our first night started with Palm Sunday! "Hosannah! Hosannah!" Our activity included the homemade palm branches (yes, made from a cut out of their palm. *snickers*). Everyone got a turn riding the donkey (played by their sweet daddy) and playing Jesus. I actually loved this first night---Hosannah, meaning 'Jesus save!!' while they threw their coats and palm branches in His path. Thank you, Jesus, you did! 

Our second night introduced Mary Magdeline. The woman forgiven of much who therefore loved much! She is the woman as we all remember who walked into the midst of many accusers and fell at Jesus' feet and wept. She broke the expensive perfume and poured everything out on the one who she saw as the most valuable. This was acted out by Justin and I, and in the middle of telling this story I did choke up....how can you not feel the overflowing love of this woman sitting at the feet of love Himself. Our activity included the girls emptying their piggy banks with a bag full of coin rollers laid out counting that money! This was to be their offering for Resurrection Sunday! What they hold as valuable given to one who is priceless!

Our third night was especially special. Here we introduced the foot washing ceremony Jesus  performed at the Last Supper. Our activity included our very own foot washing....Justin and I washed Lauren's, Lauren washed Libby's, and Libby washed bubby's. But....we made sure to muddy up those feet first! A great lesson to be learned here. 

Our fourth night was the Last Supper. Our activity was exactly that--the Lord's supper. 

(It was important to Libby to be a "real" disciple.)

Our fifth night we followed Jesus to the Garden where He wept. We talked about His sacrifice.... Our activity included gathering rocks and writing things we struggle with on them; once this was done we formed them into a cross in the ground stressing why He died. And that He took our place....

Our sixth night was the resurrection cookies. Each ingredient symbolizes a specific part of His death: Vinegar, what they gave Jesus on the cross when He was thirsty. Salt, representing the bitter tears of those who mourned His death. Crushed nuts, representing how His body was broken for us. So far, the ingredients are not very appealing! Egg white, representing the righteousness of God! But then you add a cup of sugar, representing the whole reason why He did this! Ultimate love, eternal life and a hope! drop them by the spoon full and throw in oven, which represents the tomb, tape it shut and the next morning they are hollow! Because He is risen!

We had a great time making these and I love the idea of them. The girls' favorite part that night was taping the tomb shut! Our cookies were not hollow the next morning unfortunately, not sure what we did wrong. We'll try again next year! :)

Resurrection Sunday included checking our cookies in the empty "tomb," gathering their rolled coin they did on night two for church, and these sweet pictures we did after service Sunday.

I also had their "sin" rocks we made into a cross on night five gathered into a bowl with a red cloth, representing Jesus' blood and covered with a white cloth showing we are made clean by that blood. But on the backside of each rock was written a new gift we receive to replace that sin. Praise God, our struggles are not only forgiven, nailed down, but replaced!

Feel free to share how you kept Jesus at the heart of Easter for your kids. There are many, many great ideas out there. A couple nights we also added coloring pages to go with the night's story & listened to the Kids Audio bible for each lesson. May we strive as Christian households to uphold Jesus in our celebrations & lifestyles. 

Blessings!!

Seize The Time

"Redeeming the time, because the days are evil." Ephesians 5:16 (kvj)

Faithful readers, I must share with you my devotion. If you just happened to read the post from, 'Our Family for His Glory,' that I shared on this blogs facebook page about mothers not having time for God, then you will really appreciate this devotion. It goes hand in hand, fits like a glove, hmmm, almost like God is telling me something. Please be encouraged & soak in the words I'm about to share. This devotion is taken out of His Victorious Indwelling, a devotional I highly recommend. 

All Christians greatly need certain free time to be given to recollection. Try to steal some such hours, knowing that such little parings of time will be your greatest treasures. Try to save your mornings--defend them like a besieged city! Make vigorous defenses against all intruders, clear out the trenches, and then shut yourself up with God. Even the afternoon is too long a period to let go by without taking a spiritual breath. Recollection is a great cure against such evils as pride, a critical spirit, the wanderings of your imagination, impatience with others, love of pleasure, and all such faults. It is an excellent remedy, but it needs frequent repetition, much like an expensive watch, which needs constant winding. 

  Another suggestion: reread the books which moved you; they will do so again, and with greater profit than the first time! Also, be patient with yourself, avoiding both self-deception and discouragement. This is often hard to do--people either look complacently on themselves and their good intentions, or they despair utterly. 
   Expect nothing of yourself, but all things of God. Knowledge of our own hopeless, incorrigible weakness, coupled with an unreserved confidence in God's power is the true foundation of all spiritual life. 
    If you have not much time at your own disposal--make good use of every moment you have. It does not take long hours to love God, to renew the consciousness of His presence, to lift up the heart to Him or worship Him, to offer Him all we do or bear. This is the true Kingdom of God within us, which nothing can disturb.
--Francois Fenelon

We are just as spiritual when resting, playing, sleeping, ill or incapacitated, if it is His will for us, as when we are directly serving God. We can maintain an undercurrent of knowing we are in complete accord with God and pleasing to Him whatever we are dong. 
--Lewis Sperry Chafer

If growing up is not necessary anymore, then what?

Let me start at the beginning. 

It was the other night, my husband showed me a video that is popular right now on YouTube. Someone had sent it to him on his phone & a co worker had mentioned it, I believe. Men were getting a kick out of this video. Can I just say I watched the whole thing, almost (I got bored close to the end), and barely cracked a smile. Here's why; I'm a thinker. And while I'm watching this, I'm wondering, why do men find this random guy who's joking about being lazy, gross, and a real "country boy", funny. Why is this plumb funny? I wish, for my husband's sake, that my mind would have stopped there. But instead I go on to think out loud while we're washing dishes together.

"Honey, if I were to think of all the crude, embarrassing things about my gender and joke about being a lazy mama, or a raw "country woman" would you laugh?" 

This question came with a demonstration, I'll spare the details. He laughed, but so did I, simply at the thought of something like that spiraling all over YouTube and women passing it along. But my point was, our generation is sad. We have declined in so many ways, including our humor. People don't grow up anymore. They recess. The more crude, exposing, gullible, or child-like they become the more our generation applauds them. The more that behavior tickles our funny bone.

My thoughts did not stop there, I'm afraid....

This is why people don't have strong leaders in their home. Men (and women) are not taught to grow up, to say excuse me after belching and mean it. It's funnier to be gross and demoralizing. Where does this lead? To 40 year old men who have a mature mind & therefore know how to use it to be more immature than children. I can't help but think of Will Ferrell, sorry. Seriously though, he is known as one of the top comedians in movies simply for taking rolls that portray a grown man as completely ignorant & degrading. He will gain money and laughs, be popular with the younger, ignorant generation but when he's 60 dear friends, will he have earned a reputation that anyone ever truly respects? And if any respect, what kind? Friends, these are men that younger ones are looking to. 


Think about actors in the older days, and the way the black and white movies portrayed fathers. They were not men who said stupid things, degraded their children, & bad mouthed the opposite sex. They were men that sat around the table with their family, guided their children, kissed their wife, and were portrayed as the ones with wisdom. Boys looked forward to one day being a man! The things their sweet mama enforced as far as opening doors for women, saying excuse me, working hard, & washing behind their ears were simply part of becoming a man. Part of growing...maturing. We are in a generation where men do not grow up, nor girls for that matter. Instead of being taught, by men older than themselves, to pull up your pants and wear a belt if need be, rather show your underwear & lose all worth. It's more than a fad, folks, it's where "adults" have allowed morals to go. Respect for life, dignity, self worth, and the opposite gender is trampled under foot. Men get selfish & decide it's not worth providing for a family any longer, so boys get selfish and quit caring about their pants. Really. Women get tired of taking care of everybody and decide to quit the family so she can go find herself, and so girls decide marriage is not worth it & they'll just play house without the God ordained commitment.  

As we talked about this my husband went on to say some things that I passionately believe are worth recording. 

What is wrong with sons doing what their fathers did for a living? In the old days you would hear about 4th and 5th generations of block layers, and they were good at it! But now, the almighty dollar is worshipped. Somehow making lots of money will exempt you from a life of problems. When did the bible ever portray hard work as a bad thing? Jesus himself was born into a carpenter's home; which back then was more work than today, and I'm sure they were good at it! Jesus was taught to work hard in his early years by Joseph. Whose footsteps are we following on this earth anyways? Am I suggesting all boys need to be a carpenter? Why, no. My point is we give our children nothing to go in life with but a head full of making money. There are good, strong homes to where the dads only concern is that his son go to college. And these statements usually proceed that thought, "so you won't have to work hard like I have..." "You're smart enough to make good money..." 

Never mind the child's God given talents, passions, or simply God's plan for His life, just mind the almighty dollar. 

Here's my prayer with our boy right now, our only boy, that in all of life, no matter what God has Him doing, that He would bring glory to God. My greatest hope for all my kids, is that they love God with all their heart, soul, mind and strength. This is first and foremost....this is my desire above math, above good manners, above instilling morals. This is what I give them to take in life, not a head full of how to make lots of money, but a heart, soul, mind and strength that is sold out to Christ. Because in that, no matter what they find themselves doing whether a carpenter, doctor, homemaker, janitor, etc, God will have them covered above and beyond what their needs could ever be. A bank account full of money does not guarantee them safety & peace.....only God alone does this. 

I suppose my husband's and I's point in this conversation is that it seems fathers do not give them this sole purpose above anything, they just send them out into the world to make lots of money. I pray this never becomes our purpose with our kids...but that we have given our lives as a sacrifice to instill, above all else, Christ alone. Because in this, we leave them the greatest inheritance they could ever have. And that by walking with the Lord, and making it more than just our religious practices but our life, that we also grow with Him into real men and women that gain the wisdom that is so desperately needed in our generation. 

Blessings, friends. 

One of those mommies!?

   It was in a restaurant that we heard the mommy practically come unglued with a little boy who looked like he was two. In her meanest, hissing, sharpest tone, and as if she was addressing the whole restaurant she would sneer, "No! You cannot get down! Now hush!" 
The boy was obviously not phased by the loud answer...it was nothing new. He calmly responded, "But why can I not get down?" I almost held my breath for the dear soul awaiting his mommy's very aggravated response,

"Because I am STILL trying to eat!!!" 

I'm sure it did not go unnoticed how the mannerisms of the mommy were kindly softened when the waitress approached. Especially to the boy. I have to wonder, what happens from the time they hand us that innocent, helpless life wrapped in a footed blanket that takes our breath away, to becoming that one thing that brings out the ugliest.

It was while grocery shopping that I heard a toddler wailing and no doubt making a scene somewhere near me. It was a few feet away I get a glimpse of a very young mom grabbing the shoulders of a very frustrated two or three year old little girl and pushing her down into the back of the buggy. You could feel the anger...the embarrassment....the shame. Because no one wakes up one morning & decides, "Hey! I'm going to be one of those moms."

Because, truthfully, our biggest fear is being judged. Judged and labeled as one of those. We not only have been in a similar scenario but most assuredly we have been the judges...more than we can count. "someone needs to spank their kids," "she is so mean she needs her kids taken away, look at her, didn't even fix her hair. The shame/" 

Somehow it's easier to see those struggling, place our judgement and sigh a sigh of relief that they make us look pretty darn good. After all, my hair is fixed (today) & my kids are sitting perfectly in the buggy. So we blend in with the ones passing by raising their eye brows.

Can I back up to my first story...so Justin & I are sitting there at the table with our kids, listening to the commotion behind us. And he says, "don't you hate that?" He was referring to those moms that yell in public I suppose. But it's justified if done behind closed doors? As long as our kids make us look good in public? My heart is aching.  Why is it more important to make a good impression on the waitress and folks next to us than our own children? The lives that come straight from the depths of our gut continue to pull at the most intimate parts of our soul once they are born. They reveal what we hate about ourselves. Our selfishness, our pride, our priorities....they are a constant reminder of just how much we do not have it together.

Why is this? Why does eternity lie in the heart's of the least of these? Why does the bible say the kingdom belongs to them? Why would God choose the messiest, neediest, humans on earth to hide His mysteries?

Because they realize their need. Because their faith knows no limits. Because they are the most forgiving creatures alive. Their love is unconditional. They have no love for money, only a massive need to be loved. They do not see poor & rich, but people. They cry when another baby cries. They see the ugliest of you & still wake up with arms wide open.

His mercies are also new every morning...

Maybe we've grown up to realize we have it all backwards...our priorities are all wrong....we don't know how to seek His kingdom even though He's placed it right in front of us. Instead we brush it aside, trample it, yell at it, jerk it, and wonder why they just don't get it!? Why can't they care about what we care about?

Why can't we care about what they care about? What God cares about?

Lauren comes to me with two sticks this morning. She has been working on them for a couple days, "getting all the rough bark off," she says. She wants me to feel her progress, "do you feel how smooth this part is? I'm about done with the tops." I have to ask, "why do you need them to be smooth?" She answers, "When you hit them together they sound better than when they're rough. They make better instruments." She demonstrates this to me.

"What are you going to do with them once you're done?"

"Make a cross."

My heart melted.....the cross is where we find grace.....no rough spots, no old bark, but softness.....

Is this God's whole idea of children? Yes, they pull at the most intimate parts of our lives---simply because they are God's tools....they work for eternity while we strive for the temporal. They are tools used to scrape the rough spots, the old, flaky bark until we are smooth....gentle....approachable.

Does this not hold true to all the people we turn our faces from? The druggies. We avoid eye contact because we're on a different plane than they are. We don't have addictions like they do....at least ones that show. We know how to hide ours. And compared to theirs, ours seem small, until we wake up one day and realize it's sucking the life from us, just like theirs are. 

The woman who had an affair. We look way down on her, "How could she do this to her family?" "I don't want to be seen talking to her...she's so low." But who hasn't struggled with desperately needing to feel loved? Who is really beyond the temptations of this?  Who hasn't felt ugly and needed the assurance someone would always love us as we grew older?

No one. We are sinners, fallen very short of the glory of God. This is where the cross comes in....again. And always will. We need His grace. Others need His grace.

You see, in all the ones we turn our face from, there's a little bit of our self staring back at us, reminding us of why we sit at the foot of the cross, daily. That portrait of the one person we shiver at the most, is a visual of ourselves without drinking from that fountain of grace. The cross, sprayed like graffiti, on top of that ugly portrait. If not for grace and the cross, I could not reach out to those struggling, I could not sympathize. If not for grace and the cross I would not care too...I would be more content to judge.

But the cross judges no one but me. Then washes me clean & I find grace to carry on where I desperately fall short.

 

You won't catch up, so slow down.

   Howdy, folks! I will be honest, there have been thoughts of deleting my blog simply because I get inspired more times to write than I have time for. So weeks pass and I hold on to the inspiration realizing it may be yet another week before I'll find time. For me, to sit down and write always takes away from something or someone around here. I've tried so very hard to find the right time to where it doesn't, but with the schedule my two youngest keep and my oldest with her school, I really have been disappointed to not find my afternoon free like I used to. Obviously I will not delete my blog, I just hope to find it standing when days do free up a bit & I find time to write. And I would not trade my afternoons now with a drooling,  laughing, climbing, into everything little boy, that has captured his mama's heart!

  Many of you know, in June my husband and I will be celebrating our seven year anniversary. Over the past seven years there have been alot I have done wrong & wished I could do over--but the good news is, I have learned a couple things! I certainly don't have it perfectly right, and for the pros ask someone like my mom who has journeyed almost 25 years with my daddy. Here's what I have learned!
You do not catch up on the laundry & dishes. It's true. Quit running yourself skinny. My whole goal for the past seven years was to go to bed with a clean house. This meant no dishes in the sink as well. If I had been on my feet alllll day long cooking, cleaning and the kitchen was dirty after supper then I cleaned the kitchen one more time that evening. I literally whipped myself on the back working myself to the bone. I'd do loads and loads of laundry at a time. By the time night came around, I'd fall on the bed absolutely exhausted. I lived to work and worked to live "happily." The ugly truth is this, I wanted the house at a standard of clean before I went to bed that sacrificed everyone else who lived here. In my own way, I felt like I was doing everyone a favor. Isn't everyone happier waking up to a clean slate like me? I looked forward to waking up and walking into a clean kitchen and picked up living room. It took me 6 years to realize how short  lived my happiness was! A few clean hours in the morning before I began whipping myself again to keep things up to par.......for what? I've had to really do a priority check this past year.
Am I suggesting letting your house go and live how you want? YES! That's exactly what I mean.

  Just kidding. Once I realized that dishes never go away and neither does laundry, so quit trying to get to the bottom, things started turning around for me. I now limit myself to dishes once a day. I put on a load & fold one, once a day. And usually my 'once a day' dishes is not after supper. Lauren cleans off the table after supper and then it's family time. I used to never have time for family time. How sad is that? Usually when I go to bed now there is dishes in the sink--and laundry in the laundry room---exactly where dishes and laundry are supposed to be at. Doing this 'once a day' routine keeps me caught up & frees me up for the kids & hubby. Once in awhile my sweet hubby or little Lauren will offer to do after supper dishes just to be nice and I always accept this as a gift...not a standard of clean.


  Also, believe it or not, this is my first year to use my crock pot like my right hand. My new favorite thing is throwing my supper in it that morning (maybe in the middle of doing my once a day dishes) and forgetting about it. Once 4 something or 5 rolls around, all I do for supper is set out the forks and tell the fam to gather. Easy clean up and it usually carries over for the kids and I's lunch the next day. Obviously I can't have it that easy for supper everyday, but I do try to put one or two crock pot meals on my weekly grocery list. I have a few keepers on my recipe board on Pinterest. If you're not on there, ask me, I'd LOVE to pass my favorite EASY ones along.

   Last but not least, quiet time....ahhh, one I have struggled with this for so many years! I have written countless posts of how important it is for Queen bee to be drawing her nectar so she can provide the right amount of provision for her buzzing little ones. Morning after morning I'll drag out of bed to go feed an eighth month old boy who, I could almost swear, his metabolisms speeding up. And I when I walk back to bed the thought of staying up and starting my morning off with quiet time before the girls awake always haunts me. Morning after morning choosing to catch another hour of sleep instead....guilt for not having the self will. Here's what I have to say now about this! God knows I need rest---He knows I am weary---He knows what stage of life I am in with the babies---no condemnation. What makes it wrong is when I don't make time for Him all day. I have fallen short there too. Lately I have been getting up super early with bubby, then walking back to bed to catch a little more sleep, then I wake up to the girls, make their breakfast, pour my coffee and then make myself sit down  at the table with my bible and devotion. The girls are sitting there eating away and sometimes ask me to read out loud or Lauren takes it upon herself to carry the conversation and starts reading her bible out loud. I swallow my selfishness and listen to her then carry on reading to myself. Once the girls start their morning chores, I have been going into my room and praying before Bub is up again that morning. I have to make myself still yet accomplish this but I won't go into detail of how much better my mornings are. It profits everyone in the house, that's for sure. Make time for God, even if it's not first thing in the morning, let your children see you put Him first. Still waiting for this to become second nature for me but I will say the condemnation is gone. He knows the stage you are in with children---don't feel guilty for needing sleep, but do feel guilty if you simply realize "I couldn't make time for you any this month...."

Have a lovely month of April and get outside and enjoy this sunshine while we  can still breathe out there! Surprise your kids today---let em' skip a hated chore just because. Go swing with them just for a moment. Eat a Popsicle on the porch with them. Offer to hold them just because. Do something out of the ordinary! Surprise yourself. :-)
 

God grant me a green thumb.

And so I pray, "Lord, I have never been able to keep plants alive very well. I have never succeeded at maintaining a thriving garden. I don't buy the tender plants that take alot of extra care. But I do beg, dear Lord, for the grace to tend well to the garden of these little hearts you've placed in my care."

You've seen the gardens that have been neglected. The weeds, the hard soil. I've owned a couple. I have often complained, "I don't have the time it takes to continually weed out the bad, to dig, to remember to water daily...to get that dirty.....everyday."

If this is my view on gardening, though, I have always wanted to be good at it, then how is my view on the children? I am finding as of late, that it's really quite similar. You see, even Jesus compared our hearts to soil. It takes something from me and of me to be considered a faithful gardener. My time must be committed to it. My hands will get dirty. I will feel like I am constantly pulling weeds. I will have to water, daily...and then it needs the son-light. The warmth and happiness of the son. But oh the digging! We want deep roots, do we not? To dig into the soil of the heart of our children will take a great amount of time....to see the first sprout of your seeds will take great patience but not only that but great tenderness and a careful eye so they won't get choked by weeds. I see this will take my full attention.

With this I have to ask the Lord for forgiveness....for settling for the basics of being a good mom without having to "garden." Are we drinking from our source so we can be a well spring to the thirsty, starved ones at our feet? Are we willing to nourish something so small & delicate in hopes of seeing it blossom? Are we willing to get our hands filthy & dig into to their lives instead of scraping by. Are we willing to dig past hard, stony ground? Are we willing to give them our full attention so that nothing creeps in and chokes the new life planted/growing in them. And especially, are we willing to beg God for tenderness so we don't pluck it up ourselves?

This is where I feel I've failed. The bible says, 'a gracious woman retains her honor.' And in Proverbs 31 it speaks of a woman who has the law of kindness in her tongue.

We can catch on pretty quick to what it takes to be a good mama. But this comfortable idea we most-likely live up to and feel we're doing well at, is only the height we in ourselves can extend to. To dig harder, go further, to give a little more, to be a little more gracious, to always be tender & speak lightly, takes more than we can live up to on our own. This week I have realized, no matter how much I set my mind to simply being more patient, slower to anger, and more 'pleasant' to the children, eventually I will fail. Why? Because my well dries up if it's not being filled! I run out of grace if I'm not growing in God's grace, I grow tired & feel the pains of weariness.

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. matthew 11:28-30.

The garden of their hearts deeply depends on if mama is connected to the vine. Simple as that.

Every time this past week I tried harder to be "better" I would see how I am only dust. We get comfortable in what we can handle and what we have control of---but to go beyond that to thriving hearts and souls has to come from the life source Himself.

Gather up your gardening tools, ladies. We are not merely raising kids by giving them a hot meal & throwing a Popsicle their way. We are tilling the soil, getting ready for planting season, fighting for life in a world that walks the pathway of death. It's more than throwing your kids a hot dog, it's laying your baggage down and giving your life to seeing your garden thrive.

Pictured above is a small gift from my daughter. Peace. Through these fierce tornadoes and hearing very sad aftermaths my heart allowed fear to creep in. Would I know how to respond to a natural disaster? Would I be able to keep my kids safe? What keeps me from being next or walking away unharmed? Peace. Sunday night winds howled loudly. Tree branches swayed in the neighbors yard making terrifying shadows through the girls' blinds. The screen door swung open and slammed. We recently turned our cable off so the comfort of having a continual update was not in reach. We did have the Internet and radio though. I walked through the hallway wrapped up tight in my robe feeling a longing to be close to my kids. I walked into the girls room where they lay awake looking at their windows. "I'm afraid, mom." I looked out their blinds watching the trees. "what do you see, mom? Can I look?" then I hear a quieter voice from the smallest girl "will you put a blanket over my window?" as she shivered.

And Jesus said to the winds "Peace! Be still." And the winds stopped and waves were calm. Who is this man, that even the winds and seas obey Him? I retold this story and slowly peace began to reign. By the time I was done retelling one of the most comforting stories in the bible and after a long prayer asking God to speak peace to our hearts, there was silence outside. "Wouldn't that be cool if Jesus spoke that now and this storm stopped?" "He did, Lauren. It is quiet outside." Both girls lay there in amazement and comfort. God is good to these little hearts that have such great faith.

We cling to peace. His word. It speaks. In Him is the only place to be found. Whether we live or die, we are the lords. I would pray, if my time on earth be taken by such a distaster that I cannot control, that when I wake from the sleep of death, I be found in Him in eternity.

And when the winds and waves crashed and beat upon the house, it stood firm. Why friends? Because it was built upon the rock. Jesus Christ.

His word, our hope secure. He will our shield and portion be, as long as life endures.

grip tight to His word. His words bring peace and calm. Truly it is all we have. Thank goodness.

Souls are what's eternal certainly not my floors. =)

"How prone are we to be occupied with redemption rather than the Redeemer--with salvation rather than with the Savior! No doubt we should rejoice in our salvation; but should we rest here? Should we not, like Jonathan, seek to strip ourselves in order to magnify the Person of Him who went down into the dust of death for us? Assuredly we should. David did not ask Jonathan for his robe or his sword. Had he done so, it would have robbed the scene of all its charms. But no; it was purely a voluntary act. Jonathan forgot himself and thought only of David. This it should be with us and the true David. Love delights to strip itself for its object.
  Oh! for more of this spirit of humility! May our hearts be drawn out and knit, more and more, to Christ, in this day of hollow profession, and empty, religious formality. May we be so filled with the Holy Spirit, that with purpose of heart we may cleave unto our Lord and savior Jesus Christ!


--C.H Mackintosh (His Victorious Indwelling)


This was taken out of one of my devotionals this morning. Later that morning I had read a post from a blog I follow where the mother was talking of our love in general. Our love for our husband, for our kids, for our home, for our church, for our nation and for our God. I love how she put it; If we have not love then we, as mothers, are as barking dogs and banging pots and pans. How much do we strive daily for that clean home....for obedient, fruitful children.....for educated children...to fill hungry bellies...to set the stage to where we mentally feel we can finally sit and enjoy it all. The problem is, we don't arrive there. Because somehow the house is dirty again, the children disobey again, they forget what you teach them so you must teach again, & they become hungry again. Where do we have it all done and finally soak it in? When do we catch up enough to where we finally decide to get serious about our quiet time with the Lord? When do we catch up enough to where we get serious about spiritual needs in our children? The bible says to pour out your heart like water for the souls of your kids...when do we finally get to that part? Do you see how the enemy works? We realize that we are fulfilling our calling by being home with our kids but we are certainly not free from the enemy's tactics. If we have not love our clean house (that is dirty again the next morning or by that night) means nothing. Our kids are the ones with eternal souls. This is the work that truly matters! We must, truly must, put this first. If it means sacrificing a clean kitchen to let them into your world of cooking; if it means sacrificing your 'me' time for yet another round of books; if it means praying before grabbing coffee that morning to make sure your attitude is in check; if it means pushing the 'self' down (again) & allow little hands to hang, to pull, to hold, then so be it. We see that Jesus' was constantly being surrounded and needed by multitudes.
  I love the story of the woman who had the issue of blood. Remember this? She touched the hem of His garment. The disciples were probably almost laughing when He said 'someone touched me...' He was surrounded by people grabbing at Him. But He was sensitive enough to the souls of these people to know one was in desperate need of Him. He knew her heart, her pain and despair even though He had so many other things going on in that moment. In the middle of the hustle and bustle, He was full of grace & compassion and turned to her. Wow! In the multitude, in the noise, such a needed man, and yet, He was looking at her. For her, time probably stood still. He noticed me? He felt me? He's looking at me...I may ask what I will, if I can find words. Friends, this is also our calling! We must not forget to feel. Look past the wretched, sticky floors and into the souls God has entrusted you with. For this is your eternal work. They need grace! They need compassion! Yes, they need full bellies as well but not half as much as they need you to see them! Let them know you can make time stop and hear them...


When you are about give out---when you feel grace is wearing thin--quietly walk into another room and say "God...fill me again...may my cup overflow...."


When you fail; a harsh word, hands that were not gentle, a quiet demeanor, complaining--then apologize. Show them you are not beyond humility.


No matter what, mothers, our call is to love and grace. I love my house clean, I love when we accomplish school that day, or when supper is done early, etc etc, but I don't love it half as much as when I know I have left myself in the dust and been the hands and feet of Christ that day to children who desperately need to know Him. Eternal perspective leaves this house in more dust than my earthly perspective ever could.


Important: Mothers, we must fill up and eat bread from the word. It is vital. I know we do not have free time all day; But as Ann calls it, "hard stops", must happen. I picture a car flying and coming to a tragic halt with loud screeching breaks. It is hard to stop and drop. If it's five minutes and no words; stop. Partake of Him. Offer yourself at His throne all day---give up and fill up. It must happen in order to lead our kids to Him. It is life to us.  I realize this sounds good but to put into practice is never easy----be encouraged and know I am learning this too! If I have to throw a dirty pile of clothes where they don't belong to just reach into the throne room for a minute then I will. If coffee must wait a minute, if dishes must wait, then put Him first and somehow everything falls into place, beautifully.


Be encouraged. Walk in grace. And remember it's all loud bangs & slippery floors without love!

Raising little homemakers.

"I love cleaning the bathroom, mom!" I hear my oldest announce this morning. "Please let me pour that in. I really want to help." I recall hearing later in the day as I'm making bread. Ahhh, eager little girl hands begging to do what ladies do best; make a house, a home. If anyone knows me at all they know I am huge advocate for making, or teaching rather, children to do chores. It gives them a sense of responsibility in the family/home. It trains them to be Keepers at home, which is after all what I am raising.

We instill a love for the home at an early age. I think it's important to give out chores accordingly. For instance, Lauren has been making her and her sisters bed, along with gathering the dirty clothes, every morning after breakfast for about two years now. Over time, she is an expert bed maker. It no longer looks like an amateur job well done but as if I've made them myself. This was not over night, but months & lots of faithful critiquing . I did not allow her to do a sloppy job with the thought of 'at least she got it done...' No. She was to do her best every time & the sloppy 'hang overs' were redone. Too hard? I don't believe so. I knew she could do it well but never would if allowed to give second best. Kids know what they can get by with & will always do just that if not taught that it's not acceptable, they then strive to do it right the first time so they can move on. I am grateful that I was raised doing dishes. We didn't have a dishwasher during my childhood and I remember standing on a chair washing away as early as I can remember. Now that my dishwasher has been out for a couple months I am rekindling those childhood memories! But it's not a dreaded chore to me like it was growing up...it's part of my everyday and has become second nature.  I don't think twice about it. It may seem very small compared to women who are doing great things in certain eyes but it's my way of giving glory to God. I do my best as if I'm washing unto Him. This is what He has called me to & I make them forks & spoons shine. This is what I told Lauren once "Aren't we glad mommy doesn't give her second best when washing the fork & plate you'll use tonight? Not only is that gross for you but it doesn't bring much glory to God, does it?"  She smiles and makes a grossed out face. It's not striving for a perfect home, it's about working unto the Lord because this is what He has called us to right now and we want to do it right.

It's important to watch & see when children "out grow" certain things & may be ready for a bigger challenge. Like I mentioned in the above paragraph, Lauren had been making her & her sister's bed along with gathering the dirty clothes for about two years now. A couple weeks ago I realized she was bored of this. Not that we change their chore list according to their boredom. I had noticed she was asking Liberty to help her with the dirty laundry gathering because Liberty enjoyed it so much. It made her feel important. Ah-ha! I thought. It's time to promote some ladies according to what they're quietly begging for. The home is their domain too & someday they will have one of their own (even though Lauren asked me the other day if her and her future husband could live here with me). They have the natural instinct to clean, cook, nurture & beyond. If we do not nurture this instinct they will fulfill it elsewhere & may head down a path that will not at all satisfy them in the end. If we allow them to be slothful & become lazy they will run a poor home someday & not find joy in a beautiful calling called homemaker. So last week we began a new chore schedule. Lauren was promoted to doing bathrooms once a week, dusting once a week, & vacuuming twice a week (with a small hand-held vacuum. We have laminate flooring in the living room that requires dust bunnies vacuumed up). I made her a chore list (the first one she's had) that she takes a peak at after cleaning up her breakfast every morning. Underneath her chore list is a list on how to clean the bathroom. Five easy steps and she's done. Personally, I would have never dreamed of putting my five year old on the bathrooms once a week but she begged to take over every time she saw me cleaning them. It was a challenge & looked fun to her. So far she has done excellent and tells me once a week "I love doing the bathrooms!" And let me say that having them cleaned once a week is huge---they barely got done once a month. I just hardly had time outside of the everyday duties. It's nice when our children start sharing the household duty, not only for our sake, but theirs too. Little Liberty got dealt the 'gathering dirty laundry' duty all to herself. Her new favorite thing after breakfast. We also started teaching her to make her own bed in the mornings, this is a long shot & Lauren or I one have to usually go over and help her "finish." But none-the-less, she is on the right track of becoming a pro one day like her sis.



This is Liberty jumping on her second pile of dirty laundry. :)



Just some thoughts on why I do what I do. I also thought I'd brag some on my little homemakers in training.

Traces of grace; a beautiful life.

A freshly poured cup of coffee; steaming out of my favorite mug. 'My mom is the best' is says. Then pours the splash of cream, a spoonful of sugar. My morning is just beginning, my coffee perfected. Then I hear the moan of a two yr old slowly turn into a whine over one of our two monitors. It doesn't take long before I hear grunting on the other before it turns into a hungry baby's cry. "I'm hungry, mom. I've been up reading for awhile." as I turn and see my oldest quietly lost in another world. My day has begun I think to myself. Sometimes I think I see a whip lashing my back as if to say "faster, faster!" I recall those first few seconds of wakening when there was silence, then the aroma of organic coffee, and the first step out of bed that was free to do as I pleased with no demands. It was brief, only mere seconds. But it was cherished. The two yr old's whine turns into a loud demand that makes me want to turn the monitor completely off "mom! I'm ready to get up now!" "Lauren, will you open her door and tell her she can get up now...." "But I'm so hungry!" "Now. Please. I'm feeding the baby." I hear the girls' door slowly open and listen for the next outbreak of voices. A few giggles at first, then an argument, and then actions that need my immediate attention. But I'm stuck. Nursing this baby. Everything I need to get going like, breakfast, etc is on hold. I have no choice but to pause & gaze at what's holding me down. There he is eating quietly with closed eyes. Perfect peace. He is content. And beautiful. There are times I am feeding him and his life flashes before my eyes...I see him grown. Those chubby, little fingers clenched tightly to my shirt as if it's his security. My moments of "having" to pause & look at him, take him in, are only for a period. Traces of grace. The grace to be able to stop & truly understand what it is I am holding. A miracle. Knitted in my womb and here he lies in my arms. I am mesmerized by his tiny, soft face. I have stopped time. I have paused it & was made to truly live that moment. The girls make their way to the baby's room & for a second I can't believe how tall my oldest is. The two yr old speaks "Good morning, mama. My awake now." and I blink my eyes & take a second look, my baby talks so grown up now. She can hold a conversation with Lauren as if they're a mere few months apart. My eyes are full of grace. I realize what God wants me to see. These are moments......and we have the choice to fully live them or go through the motions. I know I will be sitting there again in that uncomfortable rocker someday & Lauren will walk in and be ten. As I shake that thought, I wipe the baby's smacking lips and receive a huge grin. How I am thankful in that moment that his tiny demands make me find grace when otherwise I would not look. I lay him down & hug my girls and we go make breakfast. I know that through out the day I may lose sight of traces of grace---but I can rest assured I paused time that morning, even if only for a moment. But then again, aren't moments all we have?

Dragging it all out for the third time...

Good afternoon friends & family~ I do not feel very inspired to write as I normally do but there's obvious reasons for that. I did wish to catch you up & give you some insight as far as what's going on within the walls of the Stasny household these days.

We are dragging it all out for the third time. It feels different this time. Most of the baby furniture we started with was given to us. When I was expecting Lauren I made sure to spice it up & have it painted, etc. When I was expecting Liberty we drug it out again but it had been so long since we had seen it that it seemed new. There's a three year difference between Lauren & Liberty. So the thrill of dragging it all back out for the second round was like setting up camp for the first time. The third round feels as if I just put the baby bed up & I am now getting it back out! I wish I could post pics of each of the girls', perfectly themed  baby rooms so that you could see how funny & bare the room is now. Yes, it's different this round.

I watched Justin put the crib together last night for third time. It needed some extra screws & adjusting to be sturdy. I think with every baby he's complained about how we need a new crib but he'll make it work "this time." Since the crib was used when it was given to us there's no telling how many babies it's seen in its time. It has character. Once it was together with it's sheet & single blue blanket draped over the side, I stood there for a moment & paused. I remembered Lauren laying there. I remembered Liberty laying there. And I felt a little choked up thinking a little blue bundle would be laying there in about four weeks. I then watched the girls scrub it down with their little rags; how excited they were. I then stared at Lauren for a moment. My five year old. This was her crib originally. The car seat, stroller, bassinet, dresser & crib was all her's. Now here she is scrubbing it down for baby brother. You do not know how many times within the past two pregnancies I have thought about buying new furniture. Thankfully everything that was bought or given to us with Lauren was neutrally colored. So, here is this bare, baby room with its hand-me-down furniture, that did alright for the girls, and a small amount of blue laying around here & there; And here also is a family full of sentimental memories waiting to pass down this love. And I will be carrying my third little bundle home in the same car seat I carried Lauren & Liberty home in. There's just something about dragging the same, old stuff out for the third time....

The Egg.

Good afternoon, friends! Wow, I am basking in God's grace today. I am clinging to it. I have needed it today. I woke up this morning before the kids which is always a blessing. This means I get to pour my coffee, make my bed and plop on it with my bible and long prayer list laid open before me. I love these mornings. I get to feed my spirit man before getting busy with the natural. I feel I have connected with the Lord & offered up the burden of others & in sweet times likes this your mind is off yourself. Perfect. You start your day with your mind on others and with bread from heaven, somehow this makes you smile when normally you'd be complaining or cranky due to having to conquer "another day." Well, this is me anyways. I read in the word the book of John. He (Jesus) talks so much of the spirit. He talks in parables explaining that we are carnal but He's referring to the spirit in most of his teachings. We must worship in spirit & truth because God is a spirit. The more I read the more it talked about the spirit....I pondered other verses I knew by heart that talk about the spirit. Jesus talks of eating His flesh & drinking His blood so that we can partake of eternal life---I pondered that, in reference with the sword of the spirit. His word. We feast on it. He said whoever comes to Him and eats of His flesh will have eternal life. He repeated this several times. Those who come. Once the crowd followed Jesus searching for Him, He said "I say unto you, ye seek me not because you saw the miracles but because ye did eat of the loaves and were filled."  Something satisfied them and they sought Him out!

So I'm feasting on all this as I wrap up my prayer time and close my Bible. I am learning to feast on His word after I read it. Not just read & move on with my thoughts and self centered ways. I feasted...inwardly. As we chew on this bread it cannot help but change us. It's like adopting a new, healthy eating habit; we will eventually see change! Oh, how I was going to need this bread today. As Lauren and I are eating breakfast & Liberty is scooping oatmeal onto her gown with hopes of getting some into that little bird hole of her's, I randomly blurt out to Lauren, " Lauren, I have been praying for patience. I realize I don't have very much & it's a fruit of the spirit." Her innocent response is, "Like, when I'm talking to you?" I don't know exactly what her reply meant except maybe she feels I don't have very much patience with her. lol. She is probably right. My sweet oldest has the right traits that rubs me the wrong way. Maybe it's because we're so much alike. She is my dramatic, extreme, independent yet passionate girl. If you get hard on her she closes up & eventually you see that your words are nothing but merely words to her. Where as Liberty was born completely opposite. Her love is faithful. She loves unconditionally; even when you're hard on her. She is not dramatic & very laid back. I love this about her because it's opposite of me and it's how I want to be. That sweet nature that really doesn't take to heart your wrong. She is always willing to still hug you & act like nothing ever happened. I have two opposite children who teach me more than I could ever possibly learn outside of this home. God uses each of them to either show me myself or break me into Him. This particular morning I felt a little frustrated with Lauren. Maybe because I had asked her to leave Liberty alone for what felt like five hundred times and I still heard Liberty holler. The running through the house, the wildness & my words feeling like they just bounced back and hit me in the head over & over. Why does she not hear me? Why does she make me be so hard on her? While I'm thinking these things I hear a "hit" which sounds like a slap on the back. Liberty cries. I get up from my second cup of coffee and close my husband's bible that's always open on the table, grab the paddle & head into where she was. I confront her about what I heard and she is tempted to lie. Instead she says it was an accident. I tell her to go sit on her bed. She knows this can be good or bad. It either means a talk, a little bible, and prayer or a spanking, then a talk, & prayer. Since I had it up to my neck with her I was more than ready to spank that little hiney in hopes of a quick fix so I could get on with my day. But something deep inside wasn't feeling right. I knew Lauren lacked grace towards her sister because I lacked grace towards her. By grace I don't mean letting her "skip" getting in trouble. No, that's mercy. And that is not what she needed. By grace I meant some type of self sacrifice on my part. She needed to know I loved her. From what she stated at breakfast she obviously knows I get frustrated with her & who she is. Instantly I felt the lord speak to my heart, 'the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.' I was ready for a quick, get it over with discipline...but in my spirit I knew she needed more from me. I went into her room and looked at her. Sitting on her bed so frustrated. So frustrated with Liberty. Deep inside probably frustrated with me as well. I start off telling her that I know it's not easy being the oldest. We've had this talk before due to me being the oldest & relating to her frustrations at times. I told her to look me in the eyes and hear me when I say 'Mommy, understands.' I wanted her to know that she was sitting in company of one who really did know what she felt like. When you start off with compassion, especially with someone like Lauren & I's personality, it gets attention. She looked at me, right in the eyes.

"What you do to the least of these you do to me." is what we began talking about. But this time I was not preaching merely to her but to myself as well. I explained that what our hands & words do to another that is smaller, weaker, poor or less in any way is what we do to Jesus. This is is how we treat Him. She was listening. I humbled myself and told her I was sorry I had not been patient with her & that Jesus was watching mommy too, and how I treated her was how I treated Him. This is the same with her and Liberty and all people that are smaller, weaker than she. Then God brought to mind a demonstration I saw a mommy use on her kids. It's a blog I follow and in one of her post I was touched greatly by this lesson. I told Lauren I would be right back. I went into the kitchen & when I called her in there this is what she saw:

An egg with the name of Jesus. She looked stumped as you probably do too. Then I explained to her "This egg represents those who are smaller, weaker, poorer or less in way. Remember how easy the shell breaks? You are bigger & stronger than this egg. You have the power to hold & protect this egg or you have the power to crush it. All the smaller ones that drive you crazy represent this egg and yet what you do to them is what you're really doing to Jesus." I had her attention. She nodded. I then asked her to pick up the egg and smash it on the counter.

Once she cracked the egg we stood there for a moment. And then I said "Lauren, do you know how hard it is to glue piece by piece of this egg together? It's almost impossible because it's been shattered. And oh, look at that mess. There was something impacting looking at this mess and seeing Jesus written on it. Even for me. Once we were done with this demonstration I asked her to clean it up. "Oh, it's so messy!" she'd say, or "all the little pieces everywhere!" But this one really got me "mom, did we waste an egg?" I replied with "Eggactly Lauren. I think you're getting my drift. Later she tells me "mom, I just can't stop thinking about that egg." The rest of the day we are walking in grace. Oh, so much more beautiful than our ugly nature.

Blessings, friends. :-)