Lesson from a Yard Sale, Part 2

RECAP from last post: We had an adoption yard sale.  Huge blessings.  God is awesome.  Within two days of tithing from the yard sale, He then provided us more than we made at the entire yard sale!  We are about 1/8 of the way there with the fundraising for the adoption.  If you want a testimony of His faithfulness, check out the last post. 

Among all the blessings that God so graciously lavished upon us at the yard sale, He taught me a great deal.  As I said in the last post, God and I had a little discussion about the yard sale being donation only.  I was concerned that people would take advantage, that they would walk away and not give us any money at all.  ...And I was right.  We put out multiple signs and told all who came that the items were not priced but we asked that they give a fair donation for our adoption in exchange for the items. 

Most of the people were very nice and encouraging.  Kenneth was able to share the gospel with a few men, one of whom brought his entire family to church the next day!  I was able to talk with an older gentleman who had a great ministry going to some men in a trailer park.  Other people were amazed by the adoption.  Some people paid $10 for a pair of shoes or and old volleyball.  Some paid for items but then gave a little more with a huge smile.  It was a great experience and wonderful opportunity to share the gospel.

However, there were a few circumstances that *really* *really* tested my sanctification.  All on day 1, mind you.  1) There were some who worked for a consignment store.  When they found out that our sale was by donation only, they greatly took advantage.  One even said to me, "Well, I will sell this for $6.  I am going to give you $3."  She continued to gather the items that most people search for and loaded boxes into her car.  She did give us some money, but not really.  2) Someone paid a small price for a nice riding toy that our dear friends so graciously donated.  Not even an hour later when our friend drove by the consignment store, the same exact riding toy (identified by unique stickers)  was out front.  3) Another lady gathered several large boxes, packed with things, and then paid us $3.  She even said, "I don't even need all this stuff."  4) Someone gathered about four large boxes of things.  Asked my husband to help her pack all of it in her car because she couldn't carry it.  I do not exaggerate when I say that he had to make multiple trips to her car.  I watched him shut the trunk and then she just drove off!  Did not pay a cent.

Numbers 3 & 4 did me in.  I was so angry.  Not because I felt that they had taken money from me (remember, these were NOT my things in the first place), but because they had such a hard heart.  To know that someone is trying to raise money to bring home a child who doesn't have a family, and then to take advantage..that is what I struggled with.  I prayed over and over in my mind.  "Lord, help me to see what You are doing here.  Help me trust You.  Help me not be so angry.  Lord, please, help me!  Lord, let me see this with Your eyes.  Vengeance is yours, I know I need to leave this up to you.  Payment is not mine to exact.  Lord, I just hope those people needed those things (except in the case of the woman who said she didn't.....No!  Her too!  Her too!  Uggg!).  If we could minister to them by letting them just take all this stuff, then so be it.  That is okay.  Well, I want it to be okay.  This is silly that I am even worked up.  You are in control. "  And I am going to admit, I did ask God to convict them of what they had done.  But I am pretty sure my motives weren't the nicest.  Not at first anyways.

And just when the blood pressure finally settled down...  I kid you not.  Offenders #3 & 4 returned!  And brought friends!  Here is a glimpse of my immediate inner dialogue, "Um, Lord, are you kidding me right now?!  What are you doing here?  You are obviously trying to teach me something.  And help me to learn this lesson quickly.  Open my eyes to see what you are doing.  I don't think I can handle this.  Are you really going to let them do this...again?!  Did they not take enough!"  And all I really heard the Spirit say was, "Kristy, calm down.  You let me handle this.  Do you not trust me?"  At that point I needed to go into the house and let Kenneth handle #3 & 4. 

As we were heading home that afternoon Kenneth and I were talking about the day.  All the highlights and blessings, and all the situations I enumerated above.  My heart began to get really sad for those people.  I thought about why they acted that way, how their hearts could be so hard.  And I knew it was because they did not really know Jesus.  They had never come to grips with the fact that they are great sinners in need of a great Savior.  That this life is not about accumulating wealth, but about treasuring Christ, the One who gave them life. 

I then began to pray that they would be convicted.  Convicted about their sin.  I prayed that they would realize that they have sinned against a holy, righteous God and that they deserve His wrath.  And I prayed that they would come to Christ.  That they would know that Christ died on the cross to take the wrath of God that they deserve.  He put the full weight and penalty of our sin upon Himself so that through faith we might have His righteousness.  I prayed that they would get it.  And then I prayed that perhaps God would make a Matthew or Zacchaeus out of them.  As Zacchaeus confessed when he stood face-to-face with our righteous Judge "Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor.  And if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold" (Luke 19:8). 

...And then God opened my eyes.
I felt the Spirit tenderly say, "How many times do you rob me (#3 &4 flashed before my eyes)?  How many times do you take my glory and give it to another? (#1&2 flashed before my eyes)"  Ouch.  My heart felt stabbed, like the Word of God had pierced me to the marrow.  I kept thinking about the prophecies of Malachi and Isaiah.  Those who were robbing God, those to whom God declared that He would not take His glory and give it to another.

And God continued, "How many times do you take my blessings and forget to praise me or thank me for them?  How often do you take what I have freely given to you and fail to repay me with your life?  I gave you my One and Only Son.  Your salvation was free.  Do you give me your life as a living sacrifice?  Do you think I owe you?  Everything you have I have given to you.  Do you not think that I would take care of you even if all of these things were taken?" 

Oh, how foolish of me!!  Is He not the Provider of all that I have, of all that gives me my false sense of comfort?  Is He not the One who gives me my very breath?  He owes me nothing!  I owe Him everything!  I share in His blessings and so often fail to put my whole life on the altar before Him!  I am wretch! 

At that point I went straight on my face and cried before the Lord.  Begging for His forgiveness.  Asking that He would remove the impurities in my heart.  Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me...

In almost an instant the Lord softy said, "I discipline those that I love.  I love you.  And I wanted to show you something about me and about you.  I wanted to bring you closer to Me."  That conversation with the Lord is sealed in my heart.  How gracious, and loving, and tender my Savior is.  I felt so loved and desired after feeling so ashamed of my sin.  He does not leave me to my own.  He wants me nearer and nearer to Him, and the closer I am, the sweeter He is to me, the more I hear His voice as if it is audible. 

I can honestly say that my time with the Lord that afternoon ended with me praising Him for bringing those people to our yard sale.  I felt inexpressible joy in the testing of my faith.  I knew that without those people, I would not have experienced God the way that I did.  There is no price you can put on that.

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.

-->

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.