Post Category → faith

catching up

the baby

She’s six months old. Already heading towards seven months, twelve months, childhood. She rolls. Chews. Laughs. Verbalizes in an attempt to do what she sees us all doing. Cries at dinnertime every night. Wakes up early, thus ending my season of early morning walks alone. Ushering in a season of mornings with Fiona.

our days

Several days of not getting outside together have happened lately. I notice. I read about maintaining hardstops in your homeschooling days — times that, no matter what is in the middle of happening, every stops and gathers. For us, right now, those times are morning devotions and going outside after lunch. We may spend every single moment of the day together, but those times are together. I notice when we miss it. It’s good for my soul to just put the rest on hold and take a breath, recalibrate, see these people and hear the Holy Spirit.

We get ants-in-our-pants this time of year. Don’t we all? After being outside for a long trek two weeks ago, I packed up already-dressed kids and headed to the library. “Does anyone remember the #1 rule of the library?” Nope. It’s been that long. We left with the most ridiculous pile of books and days of excitement over new stories to read and pages to turn and worlds to discover. Thank You, Jesus, for dropping that idea in my head.

speaking of…

For history, we’ve been using Beautiful Feet Early American history. I was excited to have a curriculum that I could just do when there wasn’t time or energy to be creative, but also would allow for creativity and extras when appropriate. I love history, I love reading, and I love bunny trails, so literature-based unit approaches are the ticket. Of course, there is no perfect curriculum. What works now won’t work then, or for them, or for you, or whatever the variables may be! I’m the teacher. Curriculums are tools to use as I see fit. (Thanks, Mom, for modeling that!) We’ve very much enjoyed adding plenty of titles to our studies, as well as making up writing assignments and art projects and character studies (which sounds so official, but it’s just 2nd grade and K!) So far, some favorite additional titles have been Living Long Ago, A Viking Adventure, Exploration and Conquest, Blood on the River, and Our Strange New Land. We are, at last, about to leave Jamestown behind and plow ahead to 1620! Speeding right along. ;-)

still about books

One of the first ships carrying women and children to Jamestown was shipwrecked in the Bermudas, and its story inspired Shakespeare to write The Tempest. Well, you can’t just breeze over that fact! So we looked at William Shakespeare. I borrowed this book from the library, but thought it was really shooting for the moon. A 7 and 5 year old boy, sit and listen to a Shakespeare play? Really?

Really! They were on the edge of their seats! Clearly, he was a great playwright! At any rate, I recommend that series for an intro to Shakespeare.

Totally unrelated, I borrowed this book from the library. I mean, come on. Who could pass up those illustrations?

We read it. We talked about the paintings and the emotions they evoke. Then we listened to the Queen of Jazz. All this while eating pb&j around our kitchen table at lunch. Homeschooling doesn’t always feel like magic. But it’s incredible.

also

Jameson loves jazz. He wants me to buy him a jazz piano book. Mean Mama says not yet. Read that music, boy, and then we’ll talk.

Jameson also split his chin open and got himself some bright blue stitches.

Beatrice sings every song from The Sound of Music. Also, Little Bo-Peep has lost her sheep. All day long. While she twirls in her dress up skirt and does ballet. She quite genuinely thinks she’s the boss, but she’s learning.

William quietly is flying through his kindergarten math work. He loves every opportunity to better his reading skills. He cares for Beatrice and Fiona with tenderness.

There is the usual slacking off with chore diligence, heightened propensity toward bickering, and general end-of-winter troubles. Funny how life will routinely provide you with opportunities to deal with the sin inside. We’ll be happy when grass is growing and all, but right now is a chance to look at ourselves frankly and say, “Lord, change me.”

day by day

Routine days. The kind you crave come mid-August, the kind that can drive you mad by March. And not just routine; in my life, in this season, routine also means little. Chats that don’t get much deeper than cool battle scenes in Star Wars and what color socks are your favorite and you’re responsible for the arm that just jumped out and hit your sister, even though you swear it did it on its own. Tasks that are not much more demanding then deciding if the aqua dress is light enough to slip in with the whites, or the slightly more complex balance of screaming babe while toddler calls for you after falling in deep snow. Beauty that is as simple and sweet as a perfect freckle and toes that are pink and the sounds of harmony rather than bickering.

These have been my days.

Trench-digging, stone-laying. Sometimes muddy and mucky and awful, sometimes with pretty rocks that fit together without even trying — but still. Foundations. Being faithful day in, day out.

Seeing past the surface and confidently giving yourself completely to the silly chats and mundane tasks and simple treasuring, because it’s about loving people made in the image of God. More, calling hearts to Christ and shaping arrows to fly true.

*****


Football fans with their daddy, watching the Superbowl. I had no idea 5 year olds could watch for 4 hours. But they can.


Sun that shines so often here in the frozen north.


The Susan Constant and Jamestown. Sometimes learning is a bit messier than a textbook and pencil. But so much more fun.


My girlies watch while I do my little morning exercise. Some day we’ll be drinking coffee together in the wee hours, three women serving Jesus. For now, they’re my little princess babes.


Watching and waiting for our paperwhites to bloom. Hurray!


That awkward hour before dinner. All four gathered and entertained for at least a few minutes. (Don’t worry; I’m watching Fiona, although she just doesn’t move much yet, in true Sinclair fashion.)


Always something to amuse: Jameson dusted the table and turned our family of elephants into “shrimp cocktail.”


A snowy day yesterday meant fresh fields of sparkling diamonds today.


Snow forts are the thing.


This one. Growing every day. Reminding me that all of these days really do add up to Time.

today.

Today was a real day.

Real exhaustion.
Real tears.
Real love.
Real need.
Real tenderness.
Real togetherness.
Real correction.
Real forgiveness.
Real weakness.
Real strength.

*****

I almost bailed on going outside. I really did! I was just so tired I was falling asleep standing up. But I figured, if I’m going to do that, there’s no reason I couldn’t do it outside. Right?

Two hours.

120 minutes slipped by while we got completely caught up in warmer temperatures, sun on our faces, exploring the woods, and brushing snow off an “ice rink” on a frozen-over clearing. I stood with my face to the sun, and then looked out over the wide field. Three little people, all in their own little worlds, laying face down in the snow, studying and feeling and being mesmerized.

It was the perfect day for 15 acres of country.

I felt beyond blessed.

*****

She sings. For two hours, she treks and falls and sings the whole time. Then she recounts every detail at dinner time and ends with, “And wasn’t dat pun [fun], Mama?” So, so fun, little lady. Because you are.

William made maze after maze, hoping to stump Jameson and me. He also escorted Beatrice and me back to the house at the end of our day, making sure to clear branches and hold our hands. Gem.

This boy. He just loves me, and it amazes me. He cares about me and notices me. He’s quick to help if he senses I’m tired or down. It doesn’t matter how rough a morning may have been, he’s cheerful and whistling and setting a pace of joy for every activity. He forgives me, long before I repent. A true gift.

And this is what she did for two hours, only zipped inside my coat inside my ergo. Snug as a bug. We “skated” and danced and climbed together. I sang in the middle of the woods at the top of my lungs, and she never stirred. Happy to be near me. Always.

There were toes to be warmed, of course.

…and toes to be examined. Must not have a stray fuzz in there. That would be bad.

Love this baby.

Love all these babies.

Love these babies’ daddy.

I am blessed.

revamp

Another tip: change it up.

This January, as we “hit the books” (in our 2nd grade and kindergarten way!), there was the need for something fresh. A new book wasn’t gonna happen this time around, so a tweak to the schedule it would have to be!

And so we did.

Earlier, quicker breakfast means earlier start to devotions means earlier start to our chore hour means MORE TIME BEFORE LUNCH! Last semester, we only spent an hour or so doing math and English/handwriting/reading before lunch, and then did history and science in the afternoon. Except that I’m at my absolute worst by afternoon. I need to just schedule “Mama totally crashes” into the day around 3pm. It’s all over. Dinner can make itself, because I’m just looking at bedtime. So, with all of those morning tweaks, we now have time to all meet at the table around 10am for a fun, energetic history lesson! We have a nice long hour to read, color, write little reports, look at globes, and whatever else we have that day. Then we have still another hour for the other stuff (stuff that also allows me to bake granola, take a shower, clean my bathroom, or whatever tasks need my attention.)

We all eat lunch, and then, for the best part of our new routine:

EVERYONE goes outside! The boys rush through lunch and clean up, because they know that Mama is coming out with them! We check the thermometer to determine how many hats and socks we should wear, but otherwise, no excuses! That’s the plan, anyway. Fiona slips into the Ergo, and Ryan’s big down-filled coat fits over both of us just perfectly. Beatrice is the trooper-est of a two year old — she’ll tromp through woods and frozen-over swamps and under branches and over fields for the better part of an hour. Altogether, it’s just the right thing to do in this season of our lives.

We come back inside with pink cheeks, exhilaration, and joy — and a hankering for hot cocoa! (Not every day, but as often as it seems okay!) Beatrice gets quickly whisked off to bed for her nap, and then the boys and I have been settling into our sun-warmed family room for a chapter or two of Narnia. I actually can get through a bit of reading without falling asleep mid-sentence, thanks to a good romp in the snow.

Thus ends the “structure” of our days. The rest of the day gets filled with piano practice and lessons, dinner prep, coloring or letter-writing, and good old-fashioned play.

****

Simple days.

So simple that sometimes you have a nagging thought, “I am doing something, right? Right?”

Yes. Yes.

Sometimes it’s as special as seeing them just eat up the exhortation their father shares during morning devotions, their hearts in their eyes, hanging on every word about Jesus. Sometimes it’s taking away a Lego Star Wars book because it’s causing friction in their relationship and we have to love one another. Sometimes it’s reminding a two year old to sit like a lady. Sometimes it’s standing at the counter and not slamming your fist on it, but instead, taking a very long breath and staring at the ceiling and begging for the Holy Spirit to come.

It’s feeding and clothing and nurturing and educating and training and enjoying, and doing all of that while pointing to Jesus. He’s that awesome, that relevant, that needed.

morning thoughts

My bed was the popular spot to be last night. I was more than ready to get up when my alarm began. And the first thing I did was stretch. You can get a lot of kinks and knots sleeping around three other bodies.

There’s a funny azure-orange glow on the horizon that tells me the sun is coming. In this present darkness, though, the clear, white brightness of the morning star speaks volumes to my soul. I just stare at it — and it just shines back. Of all the majestic things declared by Creation, I think the message of the morning star is my soul’s favorite. I hang my hope there.

I quietly play a new favorite. Lyrics that remind me, as I pull out my planner for the day, that there’s a Reality I can miss in this reality. There are wars I can lose, just by not showing up. Time to rub sleep from these eyes, stir my soul, reach for my sword.

Time to follow my Morning Star. There’s Light to bring to Darkness today.

frustration, fear, and faith

If you’ve ever felt like life is hard, like you’re up against something bigger than you — you’re right.

There is a devil, and this is a war, and you’re his target.

This is a reminder I need all the time. Because things get tough, and I immediately start to fix and blame and “wrestle against flesh and blood.”

A few months ago, the Lord dropped three little words into my heart:

Frustration, Fear, and Faith.

This enemy of mine, he’s got me in his sites, and he knows my weak spots:

I work really hard, and then I get frustrated. Probably I don’t have to elaborate on why I would get frustrated, wondering why this isn’t working. That’s during the day.

Then I go to bed, and lay in the dark, thinking about my children that I love so much and all I want for them, and another shadow creeps into my soul: fear. What if something happens to them? What if they don’t get it? How can I watch them every second of their lives just to be sure they’re okay? [Resist the urge to get up and check them for the umpteenth time.]

It would be easy to fight these enemies by reading an article on How To Take A Deep Breath, or Count To Ten and Think Happy Thoughts, or They’re Just Kids So Chill Out. Finish the day with triple-checking every lock on every door and installing night-lights everywhere throughout the house. Ta-da.

Except that doesn’t really work, does it?

No.

Because we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, and there is only one victory that overcomes the world and the Prince of it:

Faith in Jesus.

Faith changes everything. Faith most certainly changes the power of frustration and fear.

Frustration lurks, but when I am working by faith, when I am sowing by faith, I can speak to those feelings. I can speak with authority. I can know that God is at work in my children’s lives. That a tantrum at the grocery store and a bedroom that looks like a nuclear bomb went off and not listening in church isn’t the end. Nope. Sheree Phillips states so well how faith renders ineffective the frustrations we encounter:

Mostly, however, it [parenting] requires faith. Faith when we become discouraged at their lack of progress. Faith during seasons when they slip back into old habits. Faith when we realize we have started to allow arguing and bickering and anger back into our homes and we have to regroup. Faith when well-meaning friends say our standards are unrealistically hight. Faith when we’re tired and think it was easier when we didn’t have to do so much disciplining and encouraging and reminding.

As for fear? The shadows of fear and its paralyzing whispers are abolished by the declaration of God’s love and grace and power — and knowing that He is pursuing my kids. Every worst case scenario can go ahead and stop tormenting me, because nothing can separate us from the love of God through Christ our Lord. The gnawing doubts about them not “getting it” are shut down when I acknowledge that I can’t save them, but as I exalt and lift up Jesus in our home, He will draw their little hearts! Just like He did mine!

I’m sowing in faith. I’m loving in faith. I’m praying in faith. And the hope on which my faith is built? Rock solid.

*****

The second stanza of an old hymn, hidden in my heart:

How sweet to hold
A newborn baby
And feel the pride
And joy he gives
But greater still
The calm assurance
This child can face
Uncertain days
Just because He lives

Because He lives
I can face tomorrow
Because He lives
All fear is gone
Because I know
He holds the future
And life is worth the living
Just because He lives