Summer Days

It's been a beautiful couple of days.
There has been the usual hectic running around.
But there have been fun moments too.
There have been moments spent celebrating with friends, or engaged in quiet activities. (Well, okay. Maybe not so quiet.)
Yesterday, we began the morning with cinnamon rolls. Can't beat that!

The weather was perfect!
The boys spent most of the day working at the house with their dad while I ran errands with the baby in tow.
Family dinner was good, even though we were missing some members of the family.
Aunt Kathy made possibly the best beef cubes with gravy over egg noodles I have ever tasted!!
We had to eat and run, though, to help Jo's good friend and partner in crime, Nathaniel, celebrate his sixth birthday!
There was pizza and cupcakes and, of course, gifts.

Then, we all played a round of mini golf. Deb made everyone play, even the adults. I'm so glad she did. I had so much fun.
The boys had a good time too. I don't think Josiah remembered ever having played before. It was entertaining, watching the little guys play. (Plus, it distracted from us more pitiful adults!)

No one won the free game at the end of the course (you had to get the ball into the clown's nose!) so we headed over to the park for a bit to wind the evening down.

Unfortunately, the evening ended with Nathaniel falling from some playground equipment and getting the wind knocked out of him. But he is a tough little lion, and he was okay.
After not having seen our friends much since school has been out, it was so good to connect and spend time celebrating such a wonderful occasion.

Today, we woke up early, early, early to take Joe for CTR (Carpel Tunnel Reduction) surgery.
We got there at 7 a.m. and we were on our way home by 9:30 a.m. The miracles of modern medicine, I'm tellin' you!
He rested this morning, but then he went to mow the yard this afternoon, and then it was off to work for a bit.
He's a tough big lion!
We spent the day around the house. We were all a bit tired from our early morning wake-up.
I made Mexican for dinner. Burritos and rice and Tostitos with salsa.
We had watermelon too; the boys' favorite!
The boys and I watched Mouse Hunt.
Mom and Aunt Kat stopped in with coffee for me and milkshakes for the boys.
We read in Romans before praying together.
Now, the boys are asleep, and I sit, blogging. Reflecting on the past few days. Pulling out the best things about them to remember, to write about.
And there are lots of things, lots of good memories made in there to pull from.
One of my goals is to live with joy and purpose in all things.
Sometimes, I do.
Sometimes, I do not.
Sometimes, just sometimes, I think this blog should be titled "My run-around, crazy, pull-my-hair-out, yell-like-a-banshee, hormonal, emotional, selfish life with three kids I
I'm trying not to completely screw up and a husband who must really love me." (Well, this may be a bit exaggerated for dramatic effect; but some days, it's right on the money.)
Yes, the secrets out.
Sometimes the Joy of Three Boys isn't so . . . well, joyful.
And it's not that it's hellaceous around here.
Quite the contrary. We really have beautiful, amazing days full of lovely things and good times together.
But lately something has been missing.
It's like I'm on auto pilot for the summer.
It's like I have let go.
I have been anxious and upset about the renovation of the house more than I would like to be, and I know the kids see this, feel it, know it.
I know Joe does.
I have been lax with family devotions, and my own devotional time.
I have not been as diligent as I want to be in many things.
Some of you who know me may say, "Now, you're being too hard on yourself!"
But you have to understand, I do not write this as an invitation to my personal pity party.
Rather, I write it to remind myself of my goal.
To live with purpose and joy in all things.
Others may argue "That's not even possible. It's not a realistic goal!"
But I believe it is.
I have to believe it is.
And if my kids get nothing else from their formative years with me. . . I want it to be this.
That true joy is possible, but it only comes from God.
That all our days, all of our thoughts and actions should be directed by the purposes of God and furthering His Kingdom in and through our lives.
Am I really living like this?
Is this who I really am, or just who I say I am . . .who I want to be?
How do I change?
I know I will not be perfect in this. I cannot be.
But I must ask myself these questions. I must keep it real. I must be truthful in my answers.
I have three boys depending on me to do so.
So, there is another part of my day, a part I didn't mention earlier with all the other "nice" stuff.
It is the part I spent in prayer, repenting, re-evaluating, asking God for His grace and peace and purposes to visit me again.
I stood, repenting, as I folded clothes and watched the trees dancing in the wind and sunshine outside my window.
And that very fact -- that I could come before the Holy King of Heaven during the least sacred part of my day, bowing my heart before Him in humility, asking for His mercy, receiving His love among the tee shirts and towels and underoos, gaining divine strength from His example of sacrificial love to pick myself up, dust myself off and start over again where I need to -- that was His answer.

A Resurrection Life

"And if the spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his spirit who lives in you." Romans 8:11 NIV

These are my thoughts as we head into Easter Sunday:
Through the work of Christ on the cross, I am living a Resurrection life.
A life free of the bonds and guilt of sin and the threat of death and hell.
A life promised to eternity.
A life of communion with God through Jesus Christ.
A life indwelt with His Holy Spirit.
A life of healing.
A life of joy and peace.
A life of purpose and passion for His purposes and passions.
And in my not-so-resurrection moments, like when I was frustrated with my children earlier today, there is the possibility and the hope that the very next moment can be, will be one of rising again from death to myself unto life with Him.
I must choose to die to me -- my wants, my dreams, my comforts -- so that I can live in the dream of God.
The resurrection life of God, who raised Jesus, dwelling in me makes it a possibility, a reality.

Today was relaxing.
The boys slept over a friends house (a very rare treat!), so it was quiet this morning. I missed them so much I could hardly stand it.
Finally, they arrived home in a flutter of ruffled excitement, unrolled sleeping bags sweeping behind them as they burst into the house. I was making muffins for the Easter Breakfast fund-raiser, and they piled into the kitchen, wanting to eat the warm, soft muffins steaming and fresh from the oven. They had so many stories to tell.
After a bit, we all went to the church to see how the Easter production was coming along. It is quite powerful, and I am looking forward to seeing the whole thing tomorrow.
When we got home, we played a new game I got for the boys called In A Pickle.
What a fun game. Here are the basics of play:
There are like, a jazillion word cards (320 really) with "nouns of all shapes and sizes" on them.
Each player gets five, and then four cards are laid out N, S, E, W fashion, with a word facing outward.
Players determine if they have a word that is smaller than any of the words in play (which then get played behind the appropriate word card in play) or larger (which then gets played on top of the appropriate word card in play).
The player to lay the fourth card on a "row" creates a "pickle round" in which each player is allowed to trump his/her card with a larger word card.
The effect is something like this:
leftovers
refrigerator
office
New York
You are encouraged to be creative, but another player can challenge your word choice. You can defend it, but in the end, a vote among the other players decides if your word stays or goes.
In the end, the player with the most word rows wins.
Are these instructions clear as mud, yet?
It took us a few "rows" to get the hang of it, but then we got going and we had fun.
Isaac loved it, even though he was losing, which, as a 9 year old boy, is hard for him.
Josiah didn't like it so much because he had difficulty reading some of the words. He ended up helping Dad so as not to become frustrated. His final comment on it, "I liked it a little and I didn't like it a little." There you go.

I thought it was a great game; fun and challenging. You really have to think about where to put your words.
Joe won.
We had some frozen pizzas for dinner, and after baths, we dyed and decorated some eggs to share with family and friends tomorrow.



Daniel has been into everything all day, and looks like he's been caught "red-handed"!

This one's from yesterday. I couldn't resist. Sportin' that squash 'stache!

Now I must make my way to the kitchen to clean up the cups with the multi-colored dyes in them.
"Where is the resurrection life in that?" one may ask.
"All our acts have sacramental possibilities." (Freya Stark)
Everything we do, including cleaning the kitchen, may be done with purpose and joy, in servanthood, laying our lives down for our families, our friends, the kingdom. The common made holy through dying to ourselves daily so we can rise with Him in the power of the resurrected Christ.
I love this song, and found this video on YouTube. I think it says what I am trying to, only better. Enjoy.


Happy Easter, everyone.