Sunday, February 22, 2009

In Desperate Need of Simplification

Our lives this past year have taken an amazing turn. We went from a family of 5 to a family of 7 in eleven months and completely complicated our family tree in a wonderful way; hopefully permanently.

Since becoming foster parents and adding two more to our crew I have felt seriously discombobulated. Bills have been left in piles to sort through and have gotten paid late. Things that I know I already own have been duplicated due to my slack in organization. Plans that I have had for implementing order in my home have been put on the back burner. I knew how to do all this when I only had three children (albeit never perfectly), I am apparently clueless with five.

So I have decided the only way to get back to some semblance of order is to start purging. Stuff, files, "friends" on Facebook and in my address book who are not really my friends nor have anything edifying to add to my life, and all those things I thought I may "need" in the future. I figure I need to clear out my brain as well as my house. Both seem a bit cluttered.

It has been a long time coming and I am excited to do it. If I can find my calendar I just might be able to pencil in a start date. Pray for my sanity!

Saturday, February 21, 2009


Because my brain has been congested and feverish lately, I have no new thoughts of my own, but I was majorly convicted after reading this today. Enjoy a little Spurgeon...

If you really love him, it will not be a question of whether you shall do something, the only question will be, “What can I do?” and you will say in your pew this morning, “What shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits toward me?” He has spared your lives, he has given you health and strength, provided you with spirituals and temporals, he has made your heart leap for joy at the sound of his name, he has plucked you out of the horrible pit and out of the miry clay, he has taken you out of the black bondage of the prince of darkness, and made you his sons and daughters; he has put the ring of his eternal love upon your finger, your feet are shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace.

“This world is yours, and worlds to come,
Earth is your lodge, and heaven your home.”

There is a crown for your head and a palm branch for your hand, and pavements of gold for your feet, and felicities for ever for your entire soul; and even your body is to be raised again from the dust and fashioned like unto Christ’s glorious body. “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for you.” Now what will you do for him?

From a sermon entitled "The Waterer Watered," by Charles Spurgeon delivered April 23, 1865.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

What A Blessing You Have Been...

Seven years ago, a large scrunchy looking creature was born. She was big (10 lbs. 11 oz.), bright red with black hair and resembled a small sumo wrestler. I fell hopelessly in love. This is that creature more recently. An amazing, beautiful and sweet girl. I am still hopelessly in love.

Happy Birthday my sweet girl!

Monday, February 2, 2009

Perfect Imperfection

Last week we had a "snow event". It could have been great as we got about 4-6 inches, but they were quickly followed by sleet and freezing rain, making our fluffy white snow into about 2 compressed inches of ice. Then it melted a bit and became ice covered slush. That night it refroze.

I was driving home the other day at dusk the next day, and as I entered the neighborhood I marveled at the scene. The sun was reflecting off of the glassy snow in the front yards of the houses I passed. Some were sheer perfection, not a single foot print marred the snow, making it look as smooth as smooth could be. Some houses had a yard full of a choppy mess, jagged edges of ice were left where children had obviously tread. These yards had evidence of fun stomped all through them. They told a story with every step. You can guess which yard my own house sported.

I can be ridiculously obsessive about my house. You'd never know it if you walked inside, but in my head there are no hand prints on the walls, scuffs on the floors nor dirt on the carpets. In my reality, I have an abundance of each. I have been in houses just like the one in my head; shiny kitchen floors and counters, perfectly painted molding and door jambs and carpeting in which each fiber stands at attention. I marveled at them, envied the cleanliness, but there was always something missing. A story. I can never read the story of that particular family.

My house is laden with stories. Start with the front yard. It is a choppy mess of ice and snow as 4 out of our 5 kids have stomped hundreds of times through it. There is a blue plastic baseball bat buried somewhere in the snow that was not rescued beforehand. On the porch is evidence of an unnamed child's artwork with crayon (they thought it was sidewalk chalk, not sure how that mistake was made) that we only managed to get half scrubbed away before other projects took precedence. Our front door really needs to be sanded down and freshened with new paint.

Entering our house you will immediately see a pair of snow boots laying inches from the coat closet in which they should reside. Another pair is standing neatly by the grandmother clock, mere feet from the closet. In the living room (that is really our office) is a lone Cinderella doll laying on the couch. She has only one shoe, so I can only surmise that she had a rough journey to this resting point. The dining room table is heavy with school books, crayons, pencils and glue sticks. A paper butterfly, compliments of Chick Fil-A has also landed on the table.

Venturing into the kitchen there are three boxes of cereal still sitting on the kitchen table from breakfast and an abandoned cereal bowl. The sink sports dishes waiting to be loaded into the dishwasher that is waiting to be emptied. Beyond the kitchen is the family room where folded laundry is stacked on the back of the couch and the floor is strewn with yesterday's toys. A chewed pair of 3-D glasses from last night's Super Bowl commercials sits atop the dogs' kennel, complete with Iggy's teeth marks.

I will spare you the view upstairs.

I suppose I would rather live in a house that has a treacherous ice field in the front and cereal bowls in the sink than live without the 5 tornadoes that left the chaos in the first place. My house definitely tells multiple stories. But I still dream about shiny kitchen floors and counters, perfectly painted molding and door jambs and carpeting in which each fiber stands at attention.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

This Year's Best

I was a little disappointed with this year's Super Bowl commercials. Then again, with a price tag of 3 million, who could afford to pay for the spot and then make a "slam dunk" commercial? But one did stand out, and although it was not the commercial I mentioned Friday, it was still a winner. And funny...