Life in the Slow Lane

Grinding the coffee by hand.

Hanging the laundry to dry.

Writing a letter and sending it by mail.

Sometimes, doing something slowly is worth the time it takes. We have so many gadgets to help us save time... but why do we need to save that time? I'm not sure if "time-savers" are a benefit when it makes us feel like we should squeeze more things onto our to-do lists.

And plus, when we do something slowly, our minds can slow down too. We give more thought to the task, or give more thought to an emotion or idea. We pay attention.

I started a garden last year, but I don't have a sprinkler system or drip lines set on on a timer. When my flowers and baby fruit trees need water, I go out and grab the hose. And this is when I talk to my little avocado tree  that is diligently growing tiny leaves. Or I bend down to dead-head the chrysanthemum and dahlias and make sure they're getting what they need. Or sometimes, I just close my eyes, feel the day shining on my face, and take a slow, deep breath. I know that if I didn't have to water the plants by hand, I wouldn't go outside as much. 

Today, find a task that you would normally use a gadget for and do without. Knead some dough by hand. Read to your children instead of turning on a tablet. Drive without GPS (and see where the road takes you!)

A Higher Calling (Finding the Balance When Mothering)

It's been a crazy summer. You can tell because I haven't posted anything since June. Our summer started off with a major play production, my parents' visit, my sister's wedding, my best friends' visit, and my husband's grandmother's memorial service. July slowed down, but ended with a week-long camping trip, followed by kids' camps.

And now it's August! Time to buckle down and focus on school prep, all the while trying to clean the house after bringing home the woods (and laundry!) from our camping adventure.

BUT...

I'm rebelling inside. I go through phases like this every now and then, and this summer, it's been especially hard. I'm tired. And I don't like housework. Or schedules. I don't really like cooking, washing, and household managing for 8 kids day in and day out.

BUT...

I do it. I do it because I know it's only for a season, and because I believe that mothering truly is a higher calling. Nothing I do in life will be as important as nurturing my children and creating a loving, warm, safe environment for them to grow in.

BUT...

there is still a part of me that wants to ignore the dishes (that are in the sink at this very moment) and spend my hours doing something else. I'm always itching to dive back fully into the world of music and art. I got a taste of this in June, when I directed and performed the music for the play production, and let me tell you–I loved it! I felt like I was finally doing what God designed me to do, after keeping myself in check for the past 18 years (yes, my first-born turns 18 this month!) and my heart jumped when the youth theater company asked me to be music director for their upcoming season!

BUT...

I had to say no. Believe me, it was difficult. I just couldn't see how I could juggle homeschooling, housekeeping, and music directing. I knew that I wouldn't "be there" for my husband and kids, both mentally and physically. For now, I still need to focus on mothering. And so, I prayed that God will give me opportunities like this again, when the timing is right, and in the meantime, I will trust Him and be patient. I know that God gave me talents to bless others; it's just a matter of finding ways to do so even in this season.

FYI, just because I have 8 kids and homeschool doesn't mean I always enjoy my full-time mothering job. It's hard. I'm not always content. 

BUT...

this is what the Bible says about contentment.

Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:11-13 ESV)

If you know you are where God wants you to be, you can be content. God will give you the strength to get through it. And so I know that being home is EXACTLY where God wants me to be! And from that, I draw my contentment, even as I struggle, and in my contentment, I find joy. 

If you are like me, constantly debating with yourself, constantly bouncing between "buts", let me encourage you. There is nothing wrong with having the desire to use the talents God has given you, as long as those desires don't become your main focus and override God's will for you. It won't be easy; it will require years of patience, perseverance, creativity, and trusting in God. 

BUT... (the final but) 

it's worth it. No one else can be Mom to YOUR children. While you feel like you're just cleaning and dealing with grumpy children all day, you are doing SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT.

In the meantime, what to do when you feel the pull between your responsibilities and your desires?! If you fill all your waking hours with only cleaning etc., you will burn out and lose your joy in mothering. You NEED to do the things that feed your soul. And you can balance that by either creatively involving your children, or finding an hour or two every week to do what you love. Here's what I do:

1) Remind yourself of the truth (review Philippians 4:11-13). Don't listen to the lies out there. You don't need a job to fulfill you. You may choose to work (and I know how good it feels to get recognition and pats on the back) but a job or career will not "complete" you. Only God can do that. Motherhood is not the loss of identity, but the gain of a new one. Only when you understand this will you find contentment and joy in motherhood.

2) Pinpoint what you really need to feed your soul. Is it getting outside? Is it moving physically? Is it thinking in a creative way? Is it collaborating with people? I thought I missed being a professional musician, but it wasn't necessarily the performing that I miss. I discovered that I just love making music with people (any people!), and being challenged musically. Once I pinpointed this, I figured out ways to meet this need. 

3) Be creative in finding an outlet. When I couldn't paint, I discovered chalk art. When I couldn't sing in a choir, I started a little children's choir at my church. When I need something to break up the mundane, I try a new recipe, play or sing a new song, or take the kids exploring in our area. You can teach a class, you can involve your neighbors, you can play piano for residents at a senior care home, you can volunteer at the school or library. If you think outside the box, you will find that there are many ways to do what you love with your children, or do what you love in a smaller setting that still leaves you time for mothering.

Joy in the Trials

My husband is currently reading through the book of Proverbs with the family at breakfast time. A few days ago, he read this:

Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean, but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox. (Proverbs 14:4 ESV)

When I heard those words, I had to chime it.

"My version is 'Where there are no children, the house is clean, but abundant joy comes by the presence of children.'"

And boy, am I feeling this right now!

With all of us at home, playing, creating, schooling, and working, the house pretty much looks like a disaster ALL THE TIME. We have close to a hundred books checked out from the library. On top of that, my husband brought home books from his office. The little boys have been setting up trains or scenes with tiny army men on the floor. My older kids are drawing and painting and cutting up cardboard boxes. And I'm in the kitchen cooking and baking, and now, preparing for Easter treats. 

But I go back to the proverb (my version). Joy, different from happiness, is rooted in knowing that God has me in His Hands, despite my situation. My children, in their joyful, innocent, trusting way, remind me that I too can trust in my Father. 

Life does not looking normal right now, and there are times when I almost can't stand the chaos, but I can't deny that there is much joy in our house. We are healthy. The children are working on projects together. My husband has spent more time with the kids than ever before. I see the older ones playing with the younger ones, and their laughter is contagious! We may not like living in these uncertain times, in almost complete seclusion, but at the same time, I am noticing the benefits. Whereas before, I would look at the calendar in astonishment and wonder, "Where did the time go?!", I feel like I'm actually experiencing each and every day.

I remember a quote recently shared to me by a dear friend. Fanny Crosby, the blind author who penned the words to the hymn 'Blessed Assurance', wrote this about joy:

Blindness cannot keep the sunlight of hope from the trusting soul. One of the easiest resolves that I formed in my young and joyous heart was to leave all care to yesterday and to believe that the morning would bring forth its own peculiar joy.

And that is what I've been doing–looking for the day's "peculiar joy". 

And one of these joys is music making with my family. We've always had a few reluctant kids who just did NOT want to perform, but now, without the pressure of an actual audience, they are emerging from their shells. For the first time, we've been able to musically involve all the older children in some way. And we've even put our music on Youtube! You can look us up under Homespun Royale (our band's name) or click on this link to hear our version of Ms. Crosby's Blessed Assurance (which actually has all 8 kids "participating" in the video!) 

So at this time, as difficult as it may be to adjust to homeschooling, entertaining, and feeding your children around the clock, find your "peculiar joys". Make memories. Stop to take mental pictures. Thank God for this time together.

Doing BIG Things

It's that time of year again.

Time to put another candle on the cake. And time to ask myself, "Did I use my time well this past year?"

Sometimes I get frustrated because there is so much I want to do: missions trips, book ideas, art and music. I've always had a great desire to do something to change the world, or in the words of Sara Groves, "and when the saints go marching in, I want to be one of them." I want to do something BIG.

And what have I done this past year? No books, no songs, and definitely no time with orphans in China, with churches in Africa, or with refugees in Iraq. I live a quiet, peaceful life in suburbia, potty training toddlers and driving teenagers around. I am doing so little compared to those who sacrifice their comfort, their health, their income, or their very lives for the Kingdom.

But this I've learned, and I continue to remind myself: doing what God calls me to do IS big. I want to go to Africa; God says, "Tend my sheep... in California. Impact the world here, where family and children are no long valued. Show them what My love looks like. Teach others, and continue to learn from your elders so you are ready when I guide you to a new adventure." And so I make a sacrifice too, the sacrifice of doing what I want.

Living the life God intended for me is about two things. One, there are times when He calls me to step out in courage and tackle something new. There are times when He calls you too. And two, there are times when He calls me to stay put and focus on the task He had appointed for me. And for some of you, this is where you are at. You wonder if there is more to life than this mundaneness. You wonder if you are making an impact on the world. But remember, it is not the size of the task that matters. One child or eight, writing a book or changing a diaper... we may feel that what we do is insignificant, but He never does. Not if we are doing what He called us to do, and not if what we are doing brings Him glory.

A Work in Progress

Petit à Petit

Growing up, my family did not have much money for furniture and household items. Most of what we owned were second-hand, which meant I did not have a say in what my bedroom looked like. I learned to be grateful for what I received and creative with what I had.

One day, when I was a teenager, my parents had me pick out a lamp and window valances for my room. For the first time, I had to think beyond the practical and ask myself, "What do I like?"

To the surprise of everyone, I picked out a Tiffany style lamp and ivory crocheted valances! To this day, I love stained glass and crocheted things!

My journey as wife and mother has been similar. My husband and I started off with mostly hand-me-down couches, vacuum cleaners, tables, and chairs. Then one year, I asked my husband that instead of Christmas presents, we go out and buy our very own coffee table. And slowly, ever so slowly, I've furnished my house and discovered my style along the way. I know now that I love rustic wood and antiques. I also love color and organic prints, especially florals. It may be decades before my home looks "done", but that's okay, I still have time to discover myself. My home is always a work in progress. As the French say, Petit à petit, l'oiseau fait son nid. (Translated, it means, "Little by little, the bird builds its nest.")

I chose to write about this now (and do a little pencil sketch of a jay working on its nest) to remind myself that most things in my life is petit à petit: not just decorating but organizing my home in a way so that it runs efficiently, learning to manage my curly hair, discovering my fashion sense, homeschooling (every year I'm teaching a new grade!), parenting, marriage, understanding the Bible…sometimes I wish I had everything figured out, but that is never the case! My life is a work in progress, and though I grow impatient because I want instant results (or envious when I visit someone's beautiful home or admire someone's luxurious hair), I must remember that "little by little" is not necessarily a bad thing. After all, God is shaping me, moment by moment, and just as my home slowly reflect my personality more and more, I will slowly reflect God more and more. And I get excited just thinking about the ways He is growing me and the beautiful things He has planned for me! I am the ultimate Work in Progress!

Giving Up My Passion

One mellow Monday morning, I was enjoying giant cinnamon rolls and good conversation at my friend Susan's house. My sweet tooth satisfied, I moved to the carpet with my baby and caught up with my friend Paul whom I had not seen for several months.

"Are you writing anything right now?" I asked him.

He looked up at the ceiling for a moment. "No, not really. I'm reworking some poems, but I'm not writing anything new."

And because my friend not only writes but performs spoken word as well, I asked the next obvious question.

"Oh, have you been performing then?"

He looked up at the ceiling again. "No…"

I waited to give him time (always a good thing to practice when listening).

"No…," he finally said. "I think God wanted me to stop performing and focus on some other things first. There was some growing I needed to do. When I was performing, I was so passionate, but I was too passionate. I would talk to people and feel like I was right all the time. I was buried in my art, instead of hanging out with people and caring for them. So that's why I'm not writing or performing right now."

It was my turn to look up at the ceiling. "Yes… I know what you mean," I said.

Paul had brought into focus something that I had not been able to put into words. After decades of practicing, performing, and writing music, I have come to a near standstill. I no longer sing in a choir, nor do I accompany one. I don't lead worship on Sundays, or any days. I don't spend hours on end at my piano. Once, I had considered a career in music because it was my passion. Now, it seems that my passion is gone.

But is it really? I miss music, every day. I love singing lullabies to my children and sitting down to play an occasional waltz. I still feel that some of my deepest emotions are best expressed through music. My music is still in me, but God had asked me to give it up. 

Give it up?!

Yes, give it up. Why would God ask me to do that?

Because…

when I was immersed in music, I was content to be alone.
when I was leading worship, I kept myself apart.
when I thought of myself as a musician, I wore the title like a badge on honor.

In my college years, I was taught to put music on a pedestal. In my post-college years, I cared more about the notes on a page than the people in my midst. Then I became Mom and rehearsals were too difficult with a nursing baby. My husband became a pastor and my attention turned elsewhere. My children grew older and my hours at home were filled with homeschooling and chores. Opportunities would pop up to sing with a choir or to be a part of the worship team, but they wouldn't work out. New friends and church members didn't even know that I had musical skills. I started to feel the loss, the envy, and the bitterness.

"Lord, when will it be my turn?" I asked. "What if my skills  grow dull and my talent goes numb?"

Before the bitterness could overtake me, God answered, "Rita, remember who gave you your talent. Besides, you know that in my kingdom, it is not skill or talent that matters most. There will be a time when you have your music again, but now is not the time. Now is the time to take away your pride and solitude. But I can do that without taking away your music, if you give it up on your own accord."

And I knew He was right.

Before, I could have never imagined that I would be willing to give up my passion. After all, it was my passion. It was me. It was my life.

But I see now that my musical passion is a gift from God, and any gift that becomes more important than the Giver is not worth having.

My life does not come from music. My life comes from Christ. And there is where my passions should lie.

As Paul writes in Galatians 6:14, 

But far be it from me to boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.

The beautiful part of this long growing process is seeing how God has replaced my passion for music with other passions: for writing, for people, for His Word. God did not leave me empty-handed. While He took away my pride and need for perfection, He did not take away my creativity or my talent. Instead, He gave me a joy for newfound creativity in other mediums, a renewed joy in singing for God alone, and a deeper care for people and their stories. He is refining my passions, refocusing and repurposing them for His kingdom.

God will let me know when it is the time to immerse myself in music again. And maybe, I will never again fully immerse myself in music again. It will be a part of me, but not all of me. The words of Fanny Crosby's beautiful song 'Blessed Assurance' comes to my mind. The third verse is especially fitting:

Perfect submission, all is at rest,
I in my Savior am happy and blest,
Watching and waiting, looking above,
Filled in His goodness, lost in His love.

And everyday, whether or not I am on a stage or at a piano, I will be singing the words of the refrain:

This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Savior all the day long;
This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Savior all the day long.

A Note in a Book

(If you visit a coffee shop called 'Inklings' in downtown Pleasanton, you will find a sitting room to the right of the main bar area. In that room, you will find shelves lined with books, and among those books, one that is orange-bound with no words on the spine. Open the book to the page dated 2/19/2017, and you will read something like this…)


The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…

And yet, I often find myself looking for more.

"I want…"

"If only I had…"

"I need just one more…"

"But I deserve…"

"I wish…"

I get what I want, but I find myself still hungry, still thirsty, still unsatisfied…

Lord, only You, who created me and the hole in my soul, know what I need. Lord, only You can satisfy me.

Lord, You are my shepherd, I shall not want…

~Rita

Thankful All Year Round

Leaves are covering our lawn and our Thankful Tree is up. It's the season of the harvest, the time of year when Americans celebrate the holiday of Thanksgiving.

Though Thanksgiving has become mostly a holiday of feasting, football, and mega-sales, I am still grateful for this day because it reminds me to take the time to give thanks to God for everything I have. Sometimes I am so caught up in the busyness of everyday living that I forget to be thankful, and then I find myself growing more and more grumpy and whiny.

I wish my house was newer!
Why can't my children give me five minutes of peace?!
My husband forgot that… again!

It is so easy to slip into that mode of thinking when I am focusing on myself rather than the Giver, forgetting that the people and things in my life are gifts of kindness from God's gracious hands. I don't deserve any of it. And even if I did, I certainly do not deserve it in abundance. Yet God chooses to give me more: seven children, a wonderful kind husband, a home, new life and purpose through His Son.

Everyday is a gift, and every moment a token of God's mercy upon me. I want to practice being thankful all year round,  and never again be envious or discontent.

Let us come into His presence with thanksgiving; 

let us make a joyful noise to Him with songs of praise! 

~Psalm 95:2

*The Thankful Tree is something my family does every year. The children and I (or anyone who comes to our home) write something for which we are thankful for on a leaf. Then the leaf is moved from the ground to a branch. "It's like fall in reverse!" said one of my kids. The poster stays up for weeks  to encourage the children to keep thinking about being thankful. I love seeing a new leaf pop back onto the tree and reading what people write!

Comfort and Peace

His chest rises and falls
Rises and falls
Rises and falls

As he lies in my arms
All his weight
His whole twelve pounds
Rest on my strength alone

There is nothing he wants more in this world
Than the comfort of love
And the peace he finds
In his mother's arms

And if I could
I would
Stop turning to objects, memories, desires, experiences
Even people with the best intentions

This is all I want
To lean
To rest
All my weight
On the only One

To know the same comfort
To know the same peace
That can only be found
In my Father's arms

Ashamed of My House

Sigh. What do people think of us when they see our house?

Boards in the fence are either missing or hanging on for dear life. The lawn is dead (brown is the new green, right?), which gives our faded-orange-sherbet house a very monochromatic, tired look. The kitchen is also tired, so much so that the dishwasher, faucet, stove, and cabinets seem to be giving up on us, one by one. Cracks and holes in the walls cry out for patching and a fresh coat of paint. The backyard is in its usual state of chaos, like the rest of the house– the house full time of mismatched, hand-me-down furniture and loud, energetic children.

We are the "ugly" house on our street. The "poor" family. "Those" neighbors. Sometimes, I admit, I am ashamed of my house. I wish it looked more shiny and welcoming. I wish I had more time and money to spend on landscaping, remodeling, and decorating. To steal a line from the musical 'Into the Woods', "I wish…"

Then a family from Iraq visits us. We have a wonderful, simple time together learning about each other's culture. Without knowing why, I start feeling a bit uncomfortable.

What do they think of us when they see our house?

A feeling of shame comes over me again, but not because my house isn't as lovely as I would like it to be, but because it is more than anything they have in Iraq.

Air conditioning and heat. Sturdy walls and a roof. Appliances that wash my clothes or heat my food and water. Four bedrooms, two bathrooms, and two living areas. A patch of lawn.

And this doesn't include the amazing food we eat, the general good health we experience, and the feeling of security we have.

I live a blessed life of ease and luxury.

But my Iraqi friends don't lecture me for our extravagance. They are grateful for our friendship and the hospitality we show them. And yet, I know that they have seen refugees run for their lives with nothing more than the clothes on their back. They live among the truly poor– people who live in cardboard houses in the dead of winter. Their church meets in a small building furnished with only old couches and folding chairs. And they are not ashamed to say, "Come visit us!"

It is my turn to be grateful– for renewed perspective, for brotherly love that knows no boundaries, and for a shame that leads to repentance and contentedness.

As a Deer

We Are His Workmanship

My friend is a writer. I mean, a real writer. She has an agent. She's been published. She spends the bulk of her day actually writing.

I'm sure you caught the hint of envy in my voice. Whenever I hear her good news, I am genuinely happy for her, but I can't help but think, "Hey, she has only one child. Of course she's a better writer than me." I think about the few moments when the house is quiet enough for me to think a complete thought. I think about all the times I try to write, in my head, while washing the dishes or driving from Point A to Point B. I think of that someday when I can tackle my writing like a professional.

I am thinking of all the things I am not.

Comparison can be harmless, but it is also sneaky, because it  unlocks the door for your real enemy: envy. And envy can take anyone's happy circumstances (or your own!) and turn it into an arrow aimed for your heart. It can even take a loved one's joy and turn it into a bitter tea.

But it is not a tea that you must drink.

For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. ~Ephesians 2:10

God has amazing plans for ALL of us. But they are not all the SAME plans. And the plans may not be what we dream for ourselves. But they are good. And they will lead to more goodness if we follow through with them.

So with this in mind, I need to refocus on the path that God has for me. It is a path of great joy, but only if I don't allow comparison and envy to come and steal away that joy. My 'good works' are here, as a homeschooling mother of six, as a wife of a pastor, as the bearer of Child #7, as a writer, as a missionary to everyone I meet. I will walk in these good works, because I am HIS workmanship.

The Secret of Being Content

My friend pointed to a photo of a little girl soaring down a hill with bright, colorful balloons streaming behind her.

"I like this photo," she said. "I need more of this in my life right now."

I knew what she meant. She loves being at home with her baby and two-year-old, but she is still learning to find joy and contentment in the midst of the quiet, lonely repetitiveness of her days. I was her only a few years ago. And I still struggle with it every now and then.

The words of one of my favorite Bible passages come to mind; Philippians 4:11-13 tells us:

Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things though him who strengthens me. (ESV)

Contentment is the peace that comes from knowing and fulfilling God's plan for you. It is having a greater sense of purpose. If you know that you are in the right place at the right time, you wouldn't want to be anywhere else. And you know that God will help you while you are there, no matter what you face. 

I am thankful for this reminder as I plan for the beginning of our school year. With two children in middle school now (and a feisty one-year-old in the mix!), I am bracing myself for the whirlwind of days ahead. But without a doubt, I am in the right place, at the right time. It's not always easy, but with God's help, I can get through it.

All this recent meditating on Philippians 4:11-13 helped me write a song, my first in half a year. I've sung the song enough times now that my kids have picked up on the chorus too. And the best thing is, the words play in my head as I take care of the children and clean the house. Even at two in the morning, when I'm pushing back the fog of sleep to help a child go to the bathroom or to feed the baby, I'm singing these words to myself!

(I still have not made a YouTube video of myself singing... I probably never will. You will just have to enjoy the lyrics without the melody. Sorry!)

Somedays are weary, somedays are long
Somedays it feels like all things go wrong
I get no trophies, no wild applause
It's easy to start longing for the life that was

But I have found the secret of being content
If I hear His calling, if I go where I'm sent
I can do all things through Him who gives me strength
I have found the secret of being content

It still comes knocking, that green-eyed envy
Though I am living in wealth and plenty
It says I'm failing by worldly measures
But I say I know I am rich in heavenly treasures

I have found the secret of being content
If I hear His calling, if I go where I'm sent
I can do all things through Him who gives me strength
I have found the secret of being content

I may be hungry, I may be fed
I may be healthy or nearly dead
I may have money, I may have none
But I can keep on dancing in the rain or sun

I have found the secret of being content
If I hear His calling, if I go where I'm sent
I can do all things with His mighty strength
I have found the secret of being content
I can do all things through Him who gives me strength
I have found the secret of being content

Use Me Here

When I was in high school, I couldn't wait for college. When I was in college, I couldn't wait to graduate. While working part-time, I wanted something full-time. And when I was single, I wished I was married. 

One of the few regrets I carry with me now is that I wasted so much time when I was younger. Rather than seeing what God had for me in the present, I was always looking to the future. I can't honestly say that I helped any of my friends in high school. In college, I didn't point people towards Christ. And when I worked as a studio piano teacher, I taught with little expectation and little passion. Week after week, students came and went. We practiced the same scales, the same songs, and I always said, "See you next week!" while thinking "When do I get to go home?"

One day, "See you next week!" never happened. One of my adult students never came back, because she had suddenly passed away. And that was when it hit me.

I had missed my chance to be an influence in this woman's life. I had had several weeks of scheduled time, and I could have made the most of my weekly thirty minutes with her. But I didn't, because I was taking it all for granted. I was praying, "God, move me onto to something else," when I should have been praying, "God, use me here while I am here."

After that incident, I never looked back. I started seeking opportunities to show God's love, from simple notes to encourage people to great sacrifices of time and money. And now, though I have moments of wanting a break from my duties as mom and housecleaner, I don't spend my time pining for the days when my children will be grown. I love homeschooling. I love mentoring new moms, young single women, and newly-weds. I love asking the check-out person, "How's your day going?" I love cooking for people in need and people coming to visit. And I love sharing our home to people. God has given me so much, and I want to pass it ALL on.

Oftentimes, we forget that at every stage of life, God has a purpose for us. Maybe it's in our nature to be discontent. When we're young, we want to be older. When we're old, we want to be younger. Or maybe it's because we are bombarded by messages like "It'll be great when you retire!" or "Wait until the kids are out of the house!" Even when we are young, adults ask us, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" We tell our children to strive for graduation, a driver's license, a job, an award– all ways of saying, in the most subtle way, "When you reach this goal, then you are ready to contribute!" My husband and I tell our children that they can contribute NOW, that sharing God's love, joy, and peace is not limited to those 18 and older, that they can always be on the lookout for opportunities to shine God's light.

And that's a good reminder for us adults too, that God can use us, whatever age we are. I hope that when I am in my forties, my sixties, and even my eighties, I will not waste the time God gives me, and that I will ALWAYS pray, "God, use me here while I am here."

More on Learning, Life, and Intentionality

I was lying on my bed next to my five-month-old while chatting with my husband about a conversation he had had with the older children. The conversation had been on cell-phone usage, and I immediately recalled my list from twelve days ago. I had thought at the time that the list was thorough, but I had forgotten one thing. What else does a child learn while waiting for dinner at a restaurant? Contentment.

Contentment is listening to my husband's voice without being interrupted by a text message alert. It is watching my son's expressive face and hands without wondering, "Who's Twittering now?" But contentment is a stranger to the child with an endless source of entertainment at his/her fingertips. It is a foreign concept to the teenager who can surf the Internet and text with friends in the midst of a class, a car ride, or 'family time'. There is more, always MORE, on those little gadgets to seduce a person away from what is happening in his/her immediate surroundings. 

It's sad that people don't realize that what they are looking for on their smart phones is contentment. And of course, they will never find it there.

6 Things Having 6 Kids Has Taught Me

Most people think my life must be crazy. Or I must be crazy. Why would I choose to have six kids otherwise? Noise, mayhem, the never-ending demands– if I'm not crazy, then I must be Superwoman.

I never pictured myself as a mother of six. Like most everyone else, I had to learn the basics of childcare and parenting when my first child was born. But then, with each child who entered my life, I discovered that there was still more I had to learn, though the lessons, surprisingly, were not what I would have imagined them to be. Raising six children has taught me more than patience and efficiency. It has taught me…

1) how to ask for help.
I have always been an independent person. I wanted to do everything myself, and I didn't think I needed to change, even when I found myself with a baby attached to my breast or a toddler attached to my leg. But as the number of children I had increased while the number of hands I owned stayed the same, I became more and more frustrated. I needed more hands! And more hands came, in the form of friends, family, my husband, and even my children now. All I have to do is ask!

2) how to rest.
As I said, I used to try to do everything. Before having children, it never bothered me to go from event to event, task to task. I soon discovered that with children, this kind of living wears out both the children and the parent. Now, when someone asks me or invites me to do something, I say "no" if I need to (without feeling guilty). We have quiet time in the middle of the day, so the younger ones and I can nap. Every Sunday after church, the family has mandatory rest time (which means lying down without books or anything). After a string of busy days, we take a day or two to stay home. I remember God's commandment to honor the Sabbath, and one way of doing so is by resting.

3) how to clean.
Messes never bothered me until now! I used to tell myself, "It's not that bad. Do it later," and so procrastinated on cleaning until company was coming over. That changed when I noticed how quickly the bathroom got dirty after a day. Books that I just put away are scattered across the floor… again. Toys that are left out become a hazard and clutter up precious little living space. My house is far from spotless, but I don't procrastinate anymore when it comes to cleaning! Keeping messes to a minimum helps me keep my life organized and makes this busy home more enjoyable for everyone.

4) how to communicate.
Sometimes I think my words are clear, then wonder why my child is not doing what I asked! Eye contact and well-defined instructions (or consequences) are crucial if we are all to survive living together. Also, to go beyond 'survival', I have learned how to speak with love and grace and directness when heart issues need to be addressed. And sometimes, the one with the issues is me. "I'm sorry" and "Do you forgive me?" are well-practiced in our home.

5) how to hug.
I didn't grow up with hugs. Hugging is still not my natural inclination. I consciously tell myself to hug my children, and happily receive their hugs in return!

6) how to appreciate the little things.
Ten minutes of quiet.
A roly-poly.
A short but deep conversation with a friend.
My husband washing the dishes.
Taking a walk with my family.
A clean room.
Food on the table.
A good night's sleep.
"I love you."

Having six children can be chaotic at times, but the benefits, visible and invisible, far outweigh the work and stress. Though the lessons may not be easy,  I am looking forward to all that God wants to teach me through my kids!

Rediscovering Faith and Contentment

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. ~Hebrews 11:1

The initial giddiness of having a new baby has been replaced by the weariness of taking care of six children plus one adult. All last week, I was critical, short-tempered, and downright grumpy around my children and husband.

Baby blues? I wondered. But I never had postpartum depression before.

Which didn't mean that I couldn't have it with my sixth child, but it wasn't baby blues at all. It was, at the heart of it, discontentment.

I was just savoring my freedom with a toddler out of diapers. I was writing more, performing more, mentoring more… doing all the things that I've always wanted to do but couldn't because I've been busy with babies for the past ten years or so.

And now, I'm back to the start. Back to nursing, schedules, diaper bags, and nighttime feedings. And there was some envy in me as I listened to my husband talk about his work and the upcoming staff retreat. I watched him as he answered phone calls and text messages from people wanting his biblical advice, and as he left to meet someone at a coffee shop to give encouragement and care. I felt stuck, useless, overlooked.

This morning's sermon was from Hebrews. It was about waiting for God, even when nothing seems to be on the horizon. Abraham, Jacob, Joseph… just to name a few– they had faith. They believed despite the fact that they could not see. God's promise was enough.

And so it must be for me, if I call myself a woman of faith. Though I cannot see why God wants me to devote my talents and energy to raising six children rather than to be a missionary or worship leader, I need to trust that He has a plan for me and my children. Though I'd rather raise my hand and be the first to volunteer, I need to trust that now is not the time; later will be better. Though I think I am ready to take on so much, I need to trust that God is shaping me for something more. There is much that I can grow in.

My husband left for the staff retreat today. I took all six children with me to Costco (a giant warehouse store) to restock our refrigerator. It was my first time doing so, and I was surprised to find myself calmly maneuvering through the crowds, joking with my children, joyfully going through this task with them. 

Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart… we sang this morning as our closing song.

It is not always easy to have a vision for the things unseen. But that is contentment– living with the knowledge that God's promises will be fulfilled, and in the meantime, finding delight in the waiting.

More on 'Privilege'

I really like the word 'privilege'! Last July, I wrote about 'privilege' as applied to marriage. Here are two posts from March 2012 (revised into one post and edited to fit the fall season) about how 'privilege' applies to parenting your children. 

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I overheard my children playing the other day. Sometimes I hear them say nasty things to each other, or get overly competitive, but that day, I heard my oldest say to a younger sibling, "That's very good. You're doing a good job. Now try to stack this one over here."

My heart melted. My eight-year-old was encouraging! Instead of a typical response like "Don't mess with my stuff!" or "Mine's better than yours" (which I do hear every now and then), my son was teaching, sharing, and praising.

It made me feel better about myself as a mom. For all my bad role-modeling, I'm glad to see that the good role-modeling is sticking. And I never (and I emphasize the never) allow my children to put each other down. TV and movies make it seem like a normal part of growing up, but I don't buy that. The home is a training ground, and if my children cannot be encouraging and loving to even those around them every day, how are they going to go out into the world and love their neighbors? 

The word that comes to mind is 'privilege.' I looked up the word in our dictionary, partly because I never can spell the word right the first time (priviledge… privelege… priveledge...), and partly to see how it was defined. Here is what the dictionary read:

a right or immunity granted as a peculiar benefit, advantage, or favor

When it comes to raising children, one doesn't hear the word 'privilege' very often. The word I am hearing more and more often is 'entitlement'. The generation coming up wants their iPods, IPads, cell phones, educations, jobs, and room and board handed to them on a silver plate. Now, this may be because I'm living in the United States in an affluent suburb of San Francisco. Life in the midwest may be very different. But I do believe that the media is also playing a part; there is a subtle but strong message in TV, movies, and music today that young people should get exactly what they want. 

But many years ago, when I was a fledgling mom, I heard a wise mother share this thought: Teach your children about privilege. Most people think of a privilege as something special, something out of the ordinary, something beyond the everyday. Teach your children that the everyday is the privilege, because everything comes from God. Living in a safe neighborhood is a privilege. Eating three, good meals a day is a privilege. Going to school, having toys, feeling warm... if you are reading my blog, you are already among the richest 1% in the world!

Now, where I apply this thought most often when I parent is with words and siblings. When I hear a child speak unkindly, I remind them that speaking to a person is a privilege; God gave us a voice and words to encourage and love. If it's an issue that needs disciplinary action, then the child gets a silent time-out (loss of his privilege.) It's the same when siblings fight. I remind them that having a brother or sister is an amazing gift, and if they abuse the gift, they cannot play with each other for a certain amount of time.

It's a simple concept, but a good foundation for teaching about thankfulness, stewardship, and compassion. And it's a good reminder for all of us, that life in itself is a privilege, and that Christ Himself is our privilege. As Thanksgiving and Christmas draws closer with each day, let us keep this in mind.