Lessons from a Yard Sale, Part 1

It still amazes me to see what God will use to stretch us, teach us and mold us into the image of Christ.  Over the last few weeks He chosen tool was a yard sale of all things.  Who would have thought?

For those who may not know, we have felt God leading us to adopt another child from Ethiopia.  This time: a girl!  What?!  I asked God about this many, many times.  Let’s just say that we were perfectly content with boys and never planned to have girls.  And did I mention I was okay with that?  This has nothing to do with me “needing” a girl.  Everything to do with the way God is leading.  I am sure that once we know her, we are going to love her.  And we won’t be able to imagine our lives without her.  And I hope God prepares her for the craziness she will forever endure.

Back to the yard sale.

So we wanted to have a yard sale to raise money for our adoption.  We did this last time and were able to raise about $1,000.  We were hoping we would do the same, raising enough to send in our USCIS paperwork.  (This is an application we will send to the government, in which they will determine if we are fit to parent an orphaned child from another country). 

The idea of the yard sale sounded really good until I realized that when we moved to Alabama I gave a lot of our stuff away.  Almost everything has been purged.  Meaning we have about 0 to contribute to our own yard sale!  We put it out there that we were having a yard sale, and wow!  I wish I could have taken a picture that would capture the amount of stuff people donated to us!  We put big pieces of furniture on Craigslist and ended up making over $300 before the yard sale even began.  It has been a very humbling experience to see the generosity of people.  People unloaded truck loads (I’m talkin’ truck loads, y’all)!  Our garage, and a good portion of our friends’ garage were filled, top to bottom.  Talk about a blessing.  We felt the love of God, through people, so strongly.  To go from having nothing, to having more than we have ever had at a yard sale…

In the midst of this, I felt God leading us to do a yard sale by donation only.  Again, what?!  The inner dialogue usually goes something like this, “You need to do this by donation.”  Me, “But God.  Really?  Don’t you think people will take advantage of us and just take a bunch of stuff?  We won’t make anything!  Don’t you think it would be better to price stuff and be willing to take less?  That makes sense.”  God, “Kristy.  Have we not been through this a million times?  Do you trust me?”  Me, “Okay.  You are right.”  Sigh… God, “I have always made this work.  When have I not met all your needs according to my riches in Christ?  Watch me.”

So that is what happened.

And can I just testify that not only did He teach me a few valuable lessons (in another post to follow) but He proved Himself ever faithful (like we could ever doubt that)!  We made more than enough to cover the cost of our USCIS fees.  We raised twice as much as I thought we would! 

And then….God began nudging Kenneth.  “I want you to tithe this.”  Kenneth, “Um.  Am I making this up?  God, I thought you wanted us to use this for the adoption.”  God, “Yes.  Bring your tithe to the local storehouse (Westwood).  Trust me.”

So that is what happened.

And once again…God proves Himself faithful.  Do you know that that Sunday morning someone handed us a check for $100 to put toward the adoption?  And another person, who had a yard sale the day before to help her pay for an upcoming mission trip, told Kenneth that she felt God leading her to tithe the money she made from her yard sale and give it to us for our adoption.  Of course, the combined amount was almost the exact amount we had tithed.

And then… On Monday I was driving to get our boys from the grandparents when I got a random call from someone at our home study agency.  She said, “Kristy, I just want to tell you that I got a phone call from some of your friends at church.  They have written a check to cover the entire cost of your home study.”  I have no idea who did such a precious thing for us (I hope they read this at some point so they know what a blessing they are, and how thankful I am for their obedience to the Lord and for their generosity).  TEARS were flowing.  And if I were not driving, I would have dropped down to my knees, face to the ground, prostrated in full surrender to the Faithful and True Lord of Hosts.  So I did that in my heart.  I could not even find the words.  The Spirit was groaning on my behalf, for sure. 

“Give and it will be given to you.  Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap.”  Luke 6:38

God always gives us good things.  Always.  God is always faithful.  Always.  He is not going to ask you to give something or risk something that He will not bless a million times over.  He LAVISHES His blessing upon us. 

So often He asks us to do things because He wants to gives us something even greater than what we have.  I cannot begin to imagine the blessings we would have missed had we insisted that we keep “our” money.  If we had hoarded every cent we made, or thought we would make, I doubt that we would have experienced His blessing “running over” into our lap!  He took our small 10% and gave us back more than we made at the whole yard sale!  Isn’t that just like our loving, heavenly Father?

When I see the cost of this adoption, and the cost of raising five children, I can easily feel overwhelmed.  It makes no logical sense.  NONE.  It actually looks very foolish.  But how can I not trust the One who has called when He continually does things like this?!  O my soul, praise the Lord!  Praise the Lord, o my soul!

Summa Time!

It's officially summer around here.
For most families it means more time together, swimming at the pool, dinner off the grill, vacations, ice cream, fishing, you name it.
For us it simply means more nakedness.

Seriously.
I am pretty sure that I have had to say the following at least five times each day, to various children: "What in the world?!  Why are you naked, again?!  Put your clothes back on.  Good grief." 
Apparently my children think we are running a nudist colony.
I can assure you, we are not.

At any given point in the day I probably have at least one child totally naked, or half-way there.  I have no idea why.  Why do boys think this is so hilarious?  Why do they think everything is better naked? 

Just this past week we had a play date at a friends house.  My friends and I were trying to do a Bible study while we let the kids play in the backyard.  I looked up and saw Asa 100% naked running around the yard. 
My inner dialogue, "Good thoughts...Good thoughts...You are right in the middle of Bible study...Figures...Well, this is sorta funny...No it isn't....Kind of, yes, it is....But he can't be doing this...We can't be stripping in front of girls, or at someone else's house....or ever....Ohmiword, what am I going to do with this kid!?"

Right now I am not appreciating the whole "naked and unashamed" thing (even though it kinda makes me giggle inside because it is hysterical seeing them run around all African-bush like).  Haven't we explained the story of Adam and Eve AFTER the fall enough?!  Fig leaves, man.  Fig leaves.  Modest is hottest.

I am praying these boys limit their nudist tendencies to our household, when no one else is around.  And that they quit running out the front door naked.  And that this trend is so-not-cool by the time they get to middle school.  We will have some serious problems otherwise.

So, cheers to summer. 
And cheers to privacy fences!

Something Beautiful

I saw something beautiful today, in the most unexpected place.

After a crazy twenty minutes inside the bank with the three youngest cherubs, (complete with Asa running into the secret employee break room then jumping out and screaming at me from behind the coke machine), I took them all to Great Clips for Nathan to get his hair cut.  I had no idea that I would be waiting almost an hour.  You can imagine the condition I was in by the time I caught a glimpse of this.

There I was talking with another customer, watching Nathan do amazing in the stylists' chair, and I saw a mother and her daughter walk in.  They both looked plain (meaning no make-up, no jewelry, basic clothing), and, to be honest, poor.  When asked what they wanted, the mother smiled, "We were hoping to get her hair styled for this" and she proudly pulled out a graduation cap.  She was beaming with pride that her daughter was going to graduate from high school tonight.  The daughter was smiling behind beautiful, long locks of brown hair.  I could tell this was a very special treat, for both of them.  This mother was extending herself to show her daughter that high school graduation is a big deal and an accomplishment she should be proud of.   

I cannot tell you the beauty of watching this mother be so proud of her daughter, and so delighted to gift her with a curling style at Great Clips to celebrate this milestone.  And the beauty of seeing this young girl almost giddy about an impending hair style and high school diploma.  Her eyes displayed excitement and gratitude for her mom.  I was happy for them and thankful that they could have such a moment together. 

How often do I take my own curling iron for granted, let alone the drawers full of nice make-up that I have tucked under the bathroom sink?  How often do I take my kids to get a hair cut and not think twice about the cost?  How often do I take for granted that my children will grow up, graduate high school and then go on to college?  I am also very ashamed to admit that as a teenager, a style at Great Clips would not have been my first choice for a "treat."  I was way too selfish and ungrateful.  Although the Lord has brought me far from the girl I once was, I still have much to learn.

The swirl of emotion that has come upon me after just a few brief moments of watching this mom and daughter is hard to put into words.  The Spirit often speaks to us through the "random" encounters, and works in places we least expect...like in the middle of Great Clips on a Tuesday afternoon.

Such unexpected beauty can be so humbling.

A Letter to Myself In 10 Years

Dear Self 10 years from now,

In the event that you start getting nostalgic and miss the years when the kids were running around like lunatics, I want to say the following. 

I know you miss those days.  I know you really do.  You probably look at your boys, now ages 15, 15, 13 and 12 (this is assuming they have all survived) and see flashes of sweet dimples and adorable, toothy grins masked behind sweaty teenage faces.  As you look at them they are probably scarfing down the umpteenth bowl of cereal for the day, nodding and grunting strange sounds as you ask penetrating questions to hear any shred of information about their day.  And with their moppy mess of hair hanging over their face buried into a cereal bowl, you probably smile and think back to days like I’ve today and you think, “Thank you Lord.  I never thought I would see this day.”   And you might laugh thinking, “Wow.  That was insanity.”  And there is a strange emotional cocktail of relief, humility, gratitude, longing, sadness and hope.

I want to assure you that you did not wish the days away.  Most of them anyways.  You truly tried the best that you could and you begged for the Lord’s help.  You felt weak all the time.  You felt dependent upon the Lord constantly.  You had some big victories and some ugly moments requiring quick repentance and prostration before the throne of grace.  You tried to really see your kids and enjoy them.  You tried to look past the mess and the ugly parts to see their hearts and to love them with wreck less abandon.   You tried to show each of them love and attention but you always felt like it wasn’t enough.  You had tender moments with each of them that I hope you are smiling about at this very moment as you recall them so quickly from your heart.  Deep spiritual conversations with Noah that typically ended with him saying, “I love Jesus.  And I love you more than to the moon and back.”  A beautiful, sheepish smile on Aiden’s face when he actually feels like he is wanted and loved after you had told him for the millionth time.  A tender kiss on the knee or shoulder from Asa as he said, “Mommy, I like you.”  And you replied, “And I love you.”  Or that sweet dimple that only exists on Nathan’s right cheek and the adorable smile that produced it, especially as he forcefully and gleefully plopped down into your lap for yet another story and you deeply smelled his silky blonde hair in hopes of remembering it.  There were many sweet moments.  And you knew they were fleeting.  You knew they were not going to last forever.  And you hoped that they would.  Many nights you cried over the fact that you couldn’t freeze time.  You did not wish the time away.

I feel the need to remind you of days like I had today that were very hard.  When you felt like you were going to punch the person who dared to say, “You are going to miss this.”  I want to remind you that some child running up and down the hall often awakened you earlier than 6:15.  Many days you heard some child yelling that he had pooped and you needed to wipe him before your alarm went off at 6:30 am.  Most of that time the child was Asa, and you longed for the day when he might sleep until at least 7 or 7:30 am.  The sound of riding toys being pushed onto the bathroom tile made your skin crawl.  You were tired most of the time.  You had a lot of headaches.  It was very loud, especially in the morning.  And I am going to guess that you have never become a morning person.  There was often bickering at the breakfast table and multiple children shouting wants and needs all at the same time.  There was whining.  There were a lot of time-outs.  All before 7:30 am.  You thought your head would literally explode.

Today after meeting all breakfast demands and making lunches and snacks, the boys succeeded in dumping out nearly every toy we own onto the floor and then refused to clean it up.  After dropping off Noah and Aiden at school, we went to the park.  Asa decided to pull down his pants and poop on the public playground.  He and Nathan then ran away behind the tree line and when I tried to catch them they ran to the fence and tried to climb over it onto the street where cars were passing by.  When they were back on the playground they attempted jumping off a high platform and got hurt when they hit the fire pole right next to them.  Then they started running on the concrete through a mud puddle.  Asa fell and cried like someone cut off his arm.   Then in the afternoon I got the pool out for the boys to play in.  They fought.  They hit one another.  They called each other names.  I made the mistake of trying to have a conversation with Kenneth while he was away at school.  Don’t know what I was thinking.  They hear the phone ring and it ushers in a million problems that cannot wait and must interrupt the phone conversation.   Nathan kept crying that he was cold so he kept wrapping up in a towel and then tried climbing into the pool with it on.  Meanwhile Aiden was throwing a tantrum because there were bugs outside.  Then there was complaining because the towel was the wrong color.  After dinner, which included a lot of loudness, throwing of cups and banging of forks, and the inevitable, “I not like this” from Asa, I discovered that Nathan had peed on the stairs at some point and that at another time one of the boys had taken a yellow crayon and scribbled all over the front door.  Nathan threw a tantrum because he couldn’t kiss his daddy through the computer screen and then refused to walk up the stairs for bedtime claiming, “I can’t!”  Then no one would listen and obey my instructions to get in bed and start reading time.  Asa threw a tantrum because he didn’t want to lay down, then because Aiden stole the Dragons Love Tacos book from him.  I had to set up guard in the hallway for over an hour to keep anarchy from rising.  I am beyond tired.  And emotional.  And I feel so weak and helpless.  I feel like I fail a million times per day and that I am messing up their lives for sure.  And I try to balance these feelings with what I also know to be true: This time is fleeting, I am engaged in a daily battle for their souls that can have a profound impact upon their lives, I have been entrusted with these children that God loves, I will miss this, They really are precious when they are sleeping, I love them so much that I feel like my heart could burst at any second, I can’t do this but God can, His grace is sufficient, and They are a blessing.  I am a mess.  And I will likely eat a large amount of chocolate in a few minutes and then feel guilty. 

And if you have read all of this, and you still think it sounds blissful, then I fear it has truly happened…I truly did loose it.  I turn into a loon.  Either that or God has so graciously blessed me with the ability to block out the impossible moments and remember the best.  If that is the case, I beg of you, do not go all sentimental on the disheveled mom at the grocery store.  You remember her.  She hasn’t had a chance to shower in a couple days because she is afraid of what the kids might do while she is in there.  She doesn’t feel pretty and she probably hasn’t had good sleep in a long time.  As her kids are pulling everything off the shelves and she is frantically trying to keep their arms and legs inside the cart while checking off her grocery list, please smile at her and say, “I remember when my kids were young.  Hang in there.  I know you are tired, but I bet you are a great mom.  Raising kids is the toughest thing I have ever done, but it is so worth it.”  Maybe smile, and as you engage her kids, tell her one of the many horror stories you had at the grocery store, or the park, or really any time you ever attempted to go out into public.  It will probably get her to laugh and maybe give her some hope.

Love,

Yourself.  

May 7, 2013

Reasons MY Son Is Crying

After laughing hysterically at this: http://reasonsmysoniscrying.tumblr.com/ 
I decided to take some pictures of Nathan in a span of a week. 
And I laughed hysterically all over again.

Here are the Reasons My Son Is Crying

 His brother was stuck.  (Don't worry.  Asa was not hurt.  

In fact, he climbed right out...after I took the picture).

 He couldn't climb down the stairs while holding his ball and his cup.

It was dinner time.

 I wouldn't let him use his fork as a drumstick.

  He threw his cup because he was mad about his fork.  And immediately regretted it.

 We told him not to call his brother "stupid."

 He wants his "Mater" that he threw across the room.

 I wouldn't let him die of a heat stroke in the van.

 Water in the wrong cup.

 He doesn't want his brother on top of Daddy.

 He wants to wrestle.  But he doesn't want to wrestle.

 He doesn't like when people wrestle if he doesn't want to wrestle.

 I wouldn't let him flood the bathroom.

 Dog ate his ice.  That he threw on the floor to the dog.

 His cup fell over during the tantrum over the ice.

Mommy is taking pictures of his tantrum.
Nice back swing, huh?  You should see his golf swing.

Love him. So much.
We all have bad days.

And we are all awesome too.

Flesh: Fail. Heart: Fail. But, God.

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Yesterday was brutal.

Kenneth was out of town for three days.  When he is out of town the boys act like depraved, wild animals.  There is no other explanation.  They show they miss their daddy by misbehaving.  Noah is especially notorious for this.  Asa also has about 0 respect for me, and it is at least kept in check with Kenneth’s constant discipline and reinforcement that he needs to honor Mommy and love her.  When he is gone, Asa go nuts.  It is awful. 

Yesterday was the third day of Kenneth being gone.  It was also the day that I got to teach a lesson on the blessings of children to a group of college girls.  Ironic doesn’t even begin to describe.

The morning started off horribly.  All the kids were up, running, screaming as loud as possible, and annoying one another before I even got out of bed.  (They woke one another up and their running and screaming is what woke me up).

Despite my best efforts, I am not a morning person.  I am so impatient and tired until I have been up for at least 20 minutes.  (I know I need to work on this).

One of my sons had peed through his pull-up, onto the sheets, through the mattress protector that I had just washed the day before for the same reason.  Had to start more laundry.  Before the boys were even dressed and ready for me to make their breakfast they had been so disobedient and whiny that they were not allowed to talk.  I moved Asa and Nathan’s chairs so that no one was even facing each other at the table.  I just couldn’t handle it.   It was one of those mornings where Noah was screaming, “Aiden won’t stop breathing on me and his breath stinks!!!”  And Aiden is laughing and blowing right into Noah’s face just to make him even angrier.

The rest of the day followed suit. 
It was one of those days that I seriously debated changing my name and never telling the children.  If I heard “Mooommmy!” one more time...  I felt like I was going to loose it any second.  I kept repeating, “It is a blessing to be called Mommy.  It is a blessing to be called Mommy.”  In hopes of believing it.   Even my “quiet time” with the Lord was interrupted by kids getting out of bed, throwing tantrums, and refusing naps.  I felt like I couldn’t get a break and I felt so out of step with the Lord at the time I needed it most.  I felt so weak.

The Spirit kept gently reminding me, “My grace is sufficient, My grace is sufficient.”  And all day it haunted me that I had to teach on the blessing of children when I wanted to do something awful to mine. 

I can assure you, I was not feeling blessed.

After nap, another child peed his bed.  This time he managed to get it in the one inch of space that does not have a mattress pad on it, along with the box springs, dust ruffle and carpet.  Pretty sure that was intentional.  I am not exactly sure how you could even pee in your sleep and get it where he did.  Alas, on to the third load of laundry for the day.

Then as I was boiling dinner on the stove, I heard the four boys fighting upstairs.  I was so tired of it.  I could hear Noah and Aiden arguing over Lincoln Logs and Nathan and Asa screaming about something.  Then I hear things being thrown, Aiden having a total melt-down and Noah yelling at him.

Aiden is crying and yelling at me from upstairs.  I ignored it.  He continued.  I continued with the food boiling on the stove.  He finally let out a big scream, and came marching down the stairs.  He cried about Noah being selfish.

Noah then marches downstairs and says the following, “Well, he is making an idol out of Lincoln logs. He thinks they are more important than Jesus. He thinks candy is more important than Jesus. He makes an idol out of Lincoln logs and candy.”

Before I could deal with that Asa comes downstairs totally naked, carrying his clothes, water dripping from him.  He says, in total stutter, “Nnnnnnate-dog do it.  Hhhhhhe got me wet.”

I immediately headed to the stairs.  As I got to the first step, the timer for the stove went off.  I left the food boiling, hoping I didn’t ruin dinner. 

I got to the bathroom to discover Nathan soaking wet, playing in the sink, and water ALL over.  Walls, mirror, counters, cabinets, the entire bathroom floor.  Picture frames and décor, soaked.  He stood there, hands in sink, looking at me with the proudest, biggest smile on his face.

I. Lost. it.  Totally. Lost. It.

I started the ugly cry. You know, the kind where you are crying so hard that you can’t breathe.  Nothing even comes out.  And then, woosh!  And it doesn’t stop.  I sound like a dying walrus. 

By this point the boys were downstairs in fear of their lives, I am sure.  I hear them yelling, “What is going on up there?”  Asa then came up, asked, “You crying Mommy?”  And then went down to report to his brothers.

Yes, dinner still on stove.

I finally came downstairs and Noah starts laughing at me. 

I prayed.  I called Kenneth.  He started laughing because he thought I was kidding.  Then he realized I wasn’t.

Thankfully, he got home about 30 minutes later. 

After the boys went to bed last night I opened my Bible to get a little more reading done .  I felt awful.  I felt defeated.  I felt weak.  I felt like calling the girls and canceling Bible study because there was NO WAY I could teach.  I wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a long time.  I prayed that the Lord would just comfort me with His Word and somehow prepare me to teach a lesson that I felt grossly inadequate to teach.

And that is when He led me to Psalm 73.

“Nevertheless, I am continually with you;
you hold my right hand.
You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will receive me to glory.
Whom have I in heaven but you?
And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”

Yesterday was an epic parenting failure.
Flesh: Failed.
Heart: Failed.

BUT GOD. 
He is the strength of my heart.
He is my portion forever.

O, blessed Lord.  You are ever faithful.  Indeed, “for me it is good to be near God.” 

I am crying thinking of His sweetness to me and His comfort. 
His grace.
His sufficiency.
He is so good. 
So faithful.

The best of times...the worst of times.

I just have to start by saying that when I am in the check-out line at the grocery and my children are pulling EVERYTHING off the shelves and throwing it, or they are yelling at the top of their lungs, or they are reaching over pushing buttons on the credit card machine, I really DO NOT want to hear you say, "Oh, I just miss those days.  Be careful you don't wish them away.  These are the best years of your life."

I cannot tell you how many times I hear that.
And how many times I just want to speak in the flesh and say, "Yeah, well, you deal with this kid for a few hours.  You will be in tears, and you will be going to bed saying, 'Wow.  Glad that's over.'  Trust me.  And if you miss those days so much, babysit my kid for free so that I can take a shower by myself or even pee by myself.  (Can I just pee without someone busting in, screaming, or beating up their brother in the other room!?  For.crying.out.loud!!!!)"
Alas, I bite my tongue.  I remind myself that this older lady is probably right.  And maybe a little delusional about "the glory days."  And I repeatedly say to myself, "Children are a blessing.  Children are a blessing."  And as I chant this while my kids try to open candy bars in the check-out line, I hold onto the hope that maybe when my kids are older (if they make it to age 18, that is) that I, too, will be delusional and only remember the good.  And maybe I can be the crazy old lady in the grocery store telling some frazzled, un-showered woman with four kids hanging off of her and causing the biggest scene ever, that she is in the midst of the best times of her life, all the while knowing that right now is pretty amazing for me too. 

I was at Wal-mart the other day, waiting in line for customer service because the cashier had messed up my transaction.  I tried to wait patiently as two employees were trying to perform brain surgery, or at least that is what they made it seem like.  Meanwhile my two youngest smacked each other and held a competition to see who could yell the loudest and make me sweat the most.  Because they had about 20 carts full of merchandise in the customer service area, not allowing any room for customers to actually wait in line, I was several feet away from the cart with my groceries and boys.  Trouble.  The line was steadily growing behind me, and I was getting frustrated.  Now there were multiple people between the boys and me, which made them raise their antics to a whole new level.  I was actually worried someone would call DHR or look around for someone who had abandoned their kids.  I tried to remain calm and remind myself that patience is a virtue.  (A constant struggle for me).

The lady behind me then said, "They are just so cute.  They look like best friends."  I kindly thanked her.  She then added, "I sure miss those days."
I was not in the mood, so I then said to her honestly, "Yeah.  I am trying to enjoy it.  But I am exhausted, and I have two more boys that are both 5.  It is a lot of work.  And the discipline is never-ending." So there.
To my surprise she said, "I remember that too.  Hang in there.  They are so cute at that age, but it is really hard.  I was so tired, and I only had two boys.  I can't imagine how you do it.  My boys are now in high school, and they drive themselves around all the time, they really don't need me much anymore."
And then I wanted to cry.

I feel a constant tension in my life over the stage my children are in.  To be honest, we are having a lot of discipline issues with Aiden and Asa.  Their personalities are so different than Noah and Nathan's.  And I struggle to discern whether it is adoption issues, personality issues, or a little bit of both.  But the selfishness, the deception, the outright lying, the outright defiance, the poor bathroom habits...I am about to loose it.  This past month it seems those behaviors are in over-drive.  We continue to discipline them.  We try to find creative ways to discipline them because it seems like nothing we have tried is getting through to them, in fact, it is getting worse. 

I feel defeated.  I keep seeking the Lord for refuge, forgiveness and wisdom.  I know I am not alone in this, but I don't know how much more of this behavior I can take.  God assures me that His grace is sufficient for me, His power is made perfect in my weakness.  He is using this for my good and for His glory.  He is my sustainer.  He will not leave me nor forsake me.  And He has already forgiven me.  His mercies are new every morning.
This is a fight.  A daily battle.  It is tough.  It is exhausting.

I don't want to wish this time away.
I want to enjoy my children.
I do enjoy them.
But I selfishly want to enjoy them without it having to be so difficult at the same time! 
I feel like I am living that quote from The Tale of Two Cities, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."
Children can be so maddening, and so delightful.
They are a blessing from the LORD, indeed.