2 comments | published by Linda | May 24, 2010
As I closed the laundry machine door, I turned toward the kitchen. Before the machine clicked on, I was handed a light saber. There he stood. Wearing a smile, and holding his light saber up high, I was apparently being called to battle. My hands were caught empty, and now they were filled.

There is a gas station on the corner that we pass on our way home. This station is always congested. Cars pull in from every direction and fill every space available. The gas pumps are used continuously throughout each day. The purpose of this station is not to have the hoses neatly pulled up, the grounds swept, and the space cleared. It was designed for congestion, built for filling empty tanks.

The space around me is often congested. I have six kids, and sometimes their friends, that pass by to be filled. Some seem to need more frequent fill ups, while others come by less often but take more time filling their large tanks. 

I was built to handle such congestion. Time I spend with each, filling them up with love is my purpose. Hugs, laughter, talks, and encouragement are needed by them in order to function. They can quickly notice a space by me available that fits them perfectly, like my son noticing my hands were empty. I have been called to battle. My children's hearts are worth fighting for. 

I have found that when my hands remain empty, so are my children.
Posted in Play Room    |   Tags: Empty Hands
2 comments | published by Linda | May 22, 2010

Situating myself in the leather seat, he proceeded to place the instruments in front of me. As I looked through the tiny holes, I made my first attempt at reading the letter chart that was lit up across the room. After some time, the doctor sat back and sighed sympathetically. Apparently, I was not his normal case. As he wondered how I have managed, I became more thankful that I had come.

Later as I walked from his office I felt as though I was in the center of a high definition movie. I could see. All was clear, and so beautiful. Now I  wondered.

How does this happen? As time passes, we find ourselves adjusting to a sort of "new normal." I've seen this in marriages I have observed. Couples can tend to settle for a level in marriage that is far less than God ever intended.

Sins that repeat in a relationship and aren't cleaned up quickly, cause pain and seem to slowly blur the picture of marriage as it should be. After years pass, they find themselves in a routine that is void of seeing clearly and living in the joy, passion and love that was intended. Their view is limited, and life seems unclear as they are missing out on the blessings meant for them.

We must sit in that leather chair, and allow our Lord to show us what we cannot see. Clearing up the clutter of sins that dim our view, and loving the right way, is necessary. We must not settle. Corrections must be made as we lay our lives down for each other daily. Apologies and forgiveness are not options. This is God's design. 

It is only then that we will actually be able to truly see. There are blessings designed for us in marriage, that we don't want to miss.

Posted in Master Bedroom    |   Tags: Can We See?
3 comments | published by Linda | May 18, 2010
While struggling to manage keeping my daughter on my hip, along with my diaper bag and purse over my shoulder, we made our way through the airport. I knew there must be a better way to orchestrate my line of children as we stretched out across the airport terminal. My little son kept loosing his grip on his suitcase with wheels. He would have to stop, sit down, put his jacket on straighter, turn his suitcase around, and get back up. My husband continued to grab different items from the kids in order to lighten their load until it looked as though he was carrying the luggage for a lifetime journey.

Out of the kindness, and brilliance of someone, down the long airport terminal, we noticed a moving sidewalk. The children ran with delight to hop on the entertaining strip. Stepping onto it was quite the attraction for onlookers. With that one step, they lost balance, dropped what they were carrying, got in each other's way, and proceeded to become a spectacle.

As we continued our same pace, it was a strange sensation that overtook me as we quickly passed by the people who chose not to walk on this fast moving trail. I could take what felt like small steps, and we were still cruising down the long airport terminal at record speeds.

Noticing that my children needed to get reorganized, and were apparently not able to handle their personal loads, I wished for a rest stop. There wasn't one. Once the choice was made to get on this trail, the decision was made.

Raising children is no different. Once that precious child is placed in our arms, we are moving. Every day they change. My children are growing, learning, changing, and drinking in who I am every day. There is no time to stop. If I find it's time for a tune up, time to stop, rethink, regroup and improve, I must do so as we move. 

Children grow quickly, and like a conveyor belt, they continue to grow whether I have it together or not. Improvements must happen, but they must happen now as time doesn't stop.

Posted in Play Room    |   Tags: The Conveyor Belt of Life
2 comments | published by Linda | May 10, 2010
Psalm 127:3
"Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him."

I sat at church with my daughter on my lap. Wearing a dress with so much poof inside, we had to continually smash it down in order for us to keep it under control. On each side of me sat my two youngest sons. My arms rested on the back of their chairs as they each leaned in on me. As I rubbed their little heads, I leaned forward and looked down the row at my older three, a few caught my eye, and smiled. 

My little daughter turned around, looked up at my face, and rubbed my cheek. Pressing her body on mine, she wrapped her arms around my neck with a tight hug. I sat there, worshiping my God, surrounded by these six gifts He chose to fill my life with. It was Mother's Day, and it was good.
Posted in Living Room    |   Tags: Mother's Day
3 comments | published by Linda | May 10, 2010
Commercials annoy me. Right when the show has my full attention, I'm interrupted. How can I change my focus from a story to a display of flawless women dancing on the beach with colorful razors? How rude.

It's easy to forget that those time wasting commercials are actually the support system to keep my shows on TV. Still, I don't want them to switch my focus, I liked where it was.

These irritating commercials are significant reminders of what my focal point should be. I get busy. It's easy for me to get wrapped up in a project, even if it's just cleaning a sink. It becomes clear to me when my children interrupt me, and I become frustrated, I've lost touch with what my priority is. I have reversed my story and commercial. 

The cleaning, or projects I find important to do can support a smooth life in ways, but I must never get them confused with what really matters. The show, my kids, should never feel like interruptions. If they do, it must be time to refocus.

As I watch another commercial of an overly happy family eating their morning breakfast, I can smile and know that my show has my full attention. 

Posted in Living Room, Play Room    |   Tags: Commercial Interruptions
4 comments | published by Linda | May 04, 2010
2 Corinthians 12:9-10
"But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."

Yesterday was windy. This was not your usual wind, this was the type of wind that was blowing outdoor furniture off the deck, and the neighbor's trampoline over their fence. My two youngest boys couldn't have been more thrilled. This was boyhood adventure at its finest. I watched as they quickly folded up paper airplanes and ran out the door. Soon after, they would run back in with red faces, laughing hysterically with no planes in hand. Back to the table, they folded up the next venturers and were out the door. 

Wind has power. Paper is weak. The bang of watching the paper become swept up by the force of the wind, and being taken to where the wind lead was fascinating. 

God is power. We are weak. It's easy to think that we can't. We can fall into the belief that we are too flimsy to carry out His plans for our life, or to even carry on. Yet, when we are weak, he can use his power. He can lift us to high places. His power is made perfect in our weakness. Our weakness is filled with his strength like the paper plane that was filled with the wind, and taken.

My boys spent much time in the wind experimenting with its strength. Boyhood is amusing. My six year old wanted to see what would happen if he relieved himself upwind. Lessons learned. Laughter accomplished.

God is not your usual wind, it is our privilege to soar in his power.
Posted in Play Room    |   Tags: Gone With The Wind