More on Multitudinous Thoughts

Continuing with my thoughts about the multitudinous tasks of life, ie. the daily grind, I have often found myself wondering, "is this what I was made for? is this why I'm here?" By the way, contrary to what my husband thought, I did not make this word up.

When Ryan and I were dating and newly married, we would daydream of the places God would take us, the kinds of people we would serve and serve with. Ways He would use us for His glory, as we rose triumphantly to the challenges He placed before us, making His name known whilst building a fantastic photographic portfolio of our adventures in evangelism and wine pairings. Very Amy Charmichael-meets-Dave Ramsey, isn't it? I was very ready to sacrifice for God, but only the things I chose to give. I am not unlike the rich man that asks Jesus what he has to do to be born again. Jesus calls him to give away the very thing he won't.

It took almost 8 years for me to realize I was putting working for God before God himself. He has brought on us unexpected circumstances and rearranged my life plan, in which He's shown me He doesn't need me, but it is I who need Him. He hasn't done it through extreme tragedy, overcoming the odds or persevering through the challenges of change. Apparently, the normal, comfortable monotony of our season of life is enough to strip me of my pride and expose my selfishness. Oswald Chambers speaks what my heart feels on those really hard, draining, Groundhog Day-esque days: "Sometimes it is not the difficulty of life but the drudgery of it that makes me think God will forsake me. When there is no major difficulty to overcome, no vision from God, nothing wonderful or or beautiful - just the everyday activities of life - do I hear God's assurance even in these?" (June 4)

Eight years is a long time to figure out that a situation is what it is, and it's not going to change. Eight years is a long time to wonder if there will ever be more. Eight years is a long time to waste. This is my life. And God can speak to me and use me and change me in my daily dishwasher-emptying time as easily as He could if I were in some exotic land. The question I have learned to ask myself is, "am I willing to hear Him?" Do I hear him while I'm folding laundry? Training a child for the 100th time? Burning supper? Carpooling? Flooding my bathroom?

God has softened my heart and changed my prayer from "deliver me from this hour!" to "deliver me in this hour!" And when all the hours sometimes feel the same, I am praying constantly. Which, I see now, is the whole idea.

"We are not meant to be seen as God's perfect bright shining examples, but to be seen as the everyday essence of ordinary life exhibiting the miracle of His grace. Drudgery is the test of genuine character." (June 15, Utmost)

Swimming Cats

N: Our friends C & H have a cat pool at their pool

R: Oh, a cat pool? For cats?

N: Yeah. For them to swim in. But kids can swim in it too.

R: Really? A cat pool? Are you sure it didn't have a toy cat in it or something?

N: Noooo. Like, there's the big pool, and then the kitty pool. For the cats, but some kids can swim. And babies too.

R: Oh! Got it. The kiddie pool?

N: Yeah. The kitty pool.

Why Did the Tomato Cross the Road?

He needed to "catch up".

Spring Break

Easter

A Birthday

Another Birthday

Multitudinous

Photo courtesy: Mantas Ruzveltas

I have heard and read this word recently more often than I care to acknowledge. It is a new word to me. Which is a confession, really, as I pride myself on my vocabulary. It has popped up everywhere - blogs, books, conversations, sermons. The stillness around me (note: when I am falling asleep at night) seems to whisper "multitudinous"; the laundry sneers up at me from it's spot on the floor, "heee heee heee. multitudinous!"; my inbox flashes it's rhythmic light at me "multitudinous multitudinous multitudinous". And on really really hard days, my children surround me, hopping up and down, pulling at my pants leg and saying what I think are real words, but all I hear coming out of their mouths is "multitudinous are we!!"

In all of this sneering and whispering that looms large in my scope, I have realized the one multitudinous thing that I must attend to, without delay or hesitation, is my sin. How do I do that, when I have multitudinous responsibilities, obligations and entitlements to chase? How do I urgently and consistently "make every effort to supplement my faith"?

I must spend time in the Word. I must, must pray. It is not easy, this carving out of time. I am a list genius, making up things to do to avoid what needs to be done. And more often than not, what needs to be done is nothing. Rest. Sit. Play. Look. Simple, but so very difficult for me.

I could write a multitudinous amount of words and thoughts about this monotony that threatens to overtake me and my relationship with God. One day I may just do that. But right now, I have other things to do....

Half Naked Five Footed Aliens

Dinner conversation Tuesday night:

R: "So, today there was a rather large shirtless man sprawled out on the grass under a tree, about 5 feet away from our office windows."

N: "Was he human?"

R: "Yes."

N: "Why did he have 5 feet?"

When Life Gives You a Felled Tree...

.....burn it.

We had planned all along to camp out in the backyard Friday. We have some friends who are moving that gave us their fire pit, because they'll need a much bigger one where they are going. We were so excited about roasting hot dogs and marshmallows (separately) over flame, that we did not consider how to get the flame started. Thankfully, God is always a few steps ahead and used a micro-burst to topple a 40 foot pine in our backyard, which left us with an abundance of limbs and kindling for our roast.

The pine tree, resting on branches of other trees in the yard. I've always wanted this one taken out, because it's right in the middle of our "garden".

Our campsite. 

Lightening Bugs

Roasting marshmallows. The ginormous ones. 

Ginormous. The s'more, not the girl.

A ginormous mess. 

See the logs? Perfect for sitting around a campfire. 

More lightening bugs. 

Two out of 5 of us ended up sleeping in the tent. We had some kicking of the face, so I ended up staying inside with the littles while Ryan and Kate slept outside. We kept telling ourselves "quantity not quality", because there was lots of craziness, borderline yelling, distraction, not listening...to which we began to question "why are we doing this? this is not fun!" But to the kids, it was. If I just thought of it like practicing for real camping, I was able to keep my cool. So we powered through and did make some great memories. 

As for the tree, we had Todd from Upstate Arborists (who I cannot say enough good things about) come and finish cutting it down, and Ryan is slowly trimming and bundling. He did 17 bundles of limbs Saturday, and is about halfway finished. I am very proud and inspired by the way he did it so happily. Does it sound like I took the felled tree in stride? Think again. It was one of many things last week that just about sent me over the edge. It was Father's Day weekend, and I think I felt more anger and entitlement than he did. I was complaining for him: "I mean, you should be relaxing, doing something fun!" In turn, he says to me, "yeah, but this is my favorite place to be, whether it's relaxing or working." That kind of contentment in the sovereignty of God and his "lot" in life gives me the peace to know that with God, there isn't anything we can't handle, big or small. I am thankful for a loving, patient and fun loving man to endure the trials with!

A Couple of Randoms

There are at least 2 Concrete Randoms in our house. Then there's one Abstract Sequential, One Concrete Sequential, and one that is curly haired, learning to walk and so cute when he squanches up his nose at me and grins.

Random is fun. Random can be unpredictable, adventurous, exciting. But to us Sequentials, it can also be exhausting, confusing and infuriating. Our youngest CR goes through her day very much living up to the definition: "occurring without definite aim, reason or pattern." To the other Random in the house, it may be even more infuriating, because being able to predict a Random's next move is both a blessing and a curse.

A few "concrete" examples of the often predictable Little Random:

"Mom, what are we having for supper?"

"Soup."

"Can I have tomato soup?"

"That is not the kind of soup that I fixed tonight."

"Well, that's my favorite."

"You cannot always have your favorite."

"Well, I like tomato soup."

"I am so glad."

"Next time you make soup, can you make tomato soup?"

"I will make tomato soup, but it may not be the soup I make next."

"Well, I like tomato soup."

Just for fun, here's the Little Sequential, same conversation topic:

"What's for supper."

"Soup."

"Yum!"

More?

"We are going to Walmart. Please put on your shoes."

"Can I get some gum at Walmart?"

"No. You are out of fun money."

"I can use the card from Target."

"We are not going to Target. We are going to Walmart."

"Well, can I use your money at Walmart?"

"No. You can use your own money."

"At Target?"

"Yes, but not today. We are going to Walmart."

"But I want some gum."

"Since we are not going to Target, and you do not have money for Walmart, it seems like you will not have gum today."

"Well, I love gum. It's my favorite."

(There is more to this, I will spare you....)

And Dear Sequential:

"We are going to Walmart. Please put on your shoes."

"Yes ma'am."

How do I let the Random be random, and at the same time teach her that the world is ordered, by an orderly God (who, yadda yadda created randoms too yadda yadda) and there are expectations to be met, rules to obey? What does it look like to help her be all God made her to be, risk taking and competitiveness included? There are many questions, and yes, fears, we have as parents as we face the reality of the truth of this personality and the weight that comes with training such a one. In true AS fashion I have launched a thorough investigation to uncover the myths and truths of my CR child; how she thinks, how she responds to encouragement, discipline, ultimatums; and how I can outwit her by knowing her better than she knows herself. A Random Jedi, if you will. And of course, the Force is with me. Right?

As one of my faults as a Sequential, I may at times have difficulty being diplomatic about things. Move it or lose it, sister. God gently reminded me, through diplomatic, gracious friends with fantastic resources (here and here) and a heart to shepherd, that I cannot win this one. It is not mine to win. She is mine for a time, to love and inspire and train, but my job is not to win. If I can help her, and actually all of them - because they will all send me running to the library to research personality traits and child training at some point in each of their lives - discover their purpose is to glorify God and make Him known, then I have done my part. And I guess that is a win, in some ways. Which is nice. Because I hate to lose.