My eyes itch.  I am hungry.  It's two weeks (to the day) until we leave on our first family vacation in ages.  And we just completed our first week of school.  Whew!

This week, we did tons of fun stuff in preparation for the upcoming academic units on the ear, sound, music, and classical composers.  We are studying the character trait of Attentiveness: Listening Closely and Watching Carefully, via Konos Unit Studies.  Since I last wrote, we've played "In Grandmother's Trunk," and we've made up our own commercial.  The kids even made a jingle.  Very cute, and interesting to think about what advertisers have to be attentive to to get our attention.  We read the first chapter of Dear Dr. Bell...Your Friend, Helen Keller.  Looks like it's going to be a great little book.

But yesterday -- that was something else!  It was our first Konos co-op of the year.  First off, one mama, Janet, decided to leave her littlest guy with his grandma.  That brought our total of kids down 12, but then my Fia is not doing this Konos, since she's in high school now.  So she just hung out and did her work elsewhere in the house.  So I had 4 kids participating, Kim had 4 kids participating, and Janet just had her 3.  11 kids, rock on!  So we began with a fun devotional by Janet about the Martha and Mary story (that woman is hysterical I tell you!).  Then I read that story aloud.  Next,  I gave the kids 13 minutes to assemble themselves into a mini-skit and present a dramatization to us.  It was a "modern day" version.  Nate was Jesus, and he was hysterical.  Kim's daughter was on the floor at Jesus's feet, saying, "Yo, wat' up, Jesus?"  And Nate begins to tell a story...

"So, there was, like, this lamb, and it got lost from the others, so the shepherd went and found it, and there was a big party..."

Up marches another one of Kim's daughters, shrieking, "Make her help me, it's not fair!!!"  When Nate, as Jesus, admonishes her and reminds her that "Mary" is doing what's right,  "Martha" shouts, "Well ya have to eat, don'tcha?"  (<snort, snort >   Me, behind the camera, as I try to keep my composure...)

"Jesus" responds: "Not necessarily!  I've gone 40 days!"  Bwaaahahaa!  I totally cracked up at this ad lib bit!  Well done, Nate!

Then we had them plan some road signs; soon after, they ate lunch.  After eating, we put all 11 of them outside with paint, cardboard and markers.  They made their signs,

some of the signs drying

and while they were drying, the troops sang a song that Kim's husband, Jeremy, one of our pastors, had made up for a verse we were studying that week.  It was really sweet and fun, and it's stuck in my head today!  (I have a cute video of that, but will NOT post it - what with my off key voice in the background of the video, lol!)

After singing, we trucked up the hill with all our rollerblades, scooters, rip-sticks, etc.  In the church's parking lot, we set up a road course with cones and our homemade signs.  The kids had to  be attentive to all the signs on the course.  So they had to spin, stop, freeze, go one way, pick a favorite color, pray at the Jesus Crossing, and yell "Jesus Rocks,"  all while on wheels.  It was hot.  And it was a little gritty.  But it was fun.

After a rather intensive clean up of the parking lot, we headed back down to the house and realized we were out of time for Janet's Olympic Games (to be attentive to directions) and my little kids' games of Mother May I, What Time is it Mr. Fox, and Simon Says.  We'll have to do that at the next co-op!  I had a few more errands to do down there before the long drive home, and we finally got back on the road home at 4:30.

By the time I got in the door at 5:30, I was delirious. Stupid-tired.  I could barely keep my eyes open, and I had dinner to make, correspondence to deal with, and children to oversee and get to bed.  By the time they got in bed, all I could do was shower the parking lot sweat off of me and crawl into bed.  Here's to a Konos year...at least I know I'll sleep well.

Caught in His Web,
MamaWebb

Childhood Dangers

So this week we have jumped back into some of our school...mostly just foreign language and Konos.  We've been studying Attentiveness as our Godly character trait.  This week we're just doing some explorations of the general topic of Attentiveness.

Star post-its on our ceiling, listing all our activities

We're memorizing Proverbs 20:12, reading some other great verses along that same line (my fav has been Isaiah 48:17-18), and doing some fun activities.  Monday, for example, we practiced being attentive by only whispering each other's name when we needed their attention.  We played "Hide the Penny" with three cups.  We practiced making eye contact with each other while speaking.  We read and then dramatized the calling of Samuel (Nate was God and wore a gold tablecloth, Anna was Eli, John was Samuel, and James was an angel at God's side, complete with pipe cleaner halo).  Yesterday, we were observant of our environment and each child got a stack of post-its with
adjectives on them to stick on applicable items around the house.


We made a list of the ways Jesus was attentive to His Father, and then talked about how we can be attentive to Him, too.  Today, we played the memory game where they all concentrated on a tray of random items I'd collected, then I took it away while they wrote out as many items as they could remember.  We also played "I Went to the Store."

It has been a lot of fun practicing being attentive to get us ready for the big academic units coming next week - and those following.  It has also been lovely to have some more routine to our day again, a little more purpose.

With that said, perhaps there still is not enough purpose, not enough routine.  Because yesterday the four younger kids went out to play (under my threat of death).  It was quiet, and no one had come in to whine or complain or tattle.  There were no reports of wailing injured little boys.  It was beautiful.  I took care of some correspondence.  I pinned some things on pinterest.  I even started dinner.  I was roasting a large chicken, and I like to chop some fresh herbs and press some garlic to mix into softened butter to rub under (& over) a whole chicken's skin.  So off I went, outside to the garden for herbs, figuring it would be a good time to check on the kids.  Out I went.  And this is what I found:

Yes.  What you see there is Nate, Anna, John, and even little James up on the garage roof.  Sorry for the crappy quality...the light was behind them.  There were all make and manner of pulley systems, straps and ropes, ladders, and buckets strung into the trees.  When I expressed my surprise and dislike, James said, "It's ok, Mommy!  I have a dog belt on!"  Sure enough, the older children had created a "harness" for James out of two dog leashes strapped to the tree and slipknotted around his waist.  Nate even assured me that it was shorter than the distance between the edge of the roof and the ground; he'd measured.  Oh, Good.  So the funny part was, yes, I stopped to take pictures.  Honestly, I just thought no one would believe me.  I really couldn't decide whether to commend them for thinking of the little boys' safety and for their cooperative creativity, or to punish them for being so darn dangerous.  I actually considered letting them stay up there.  Had I lived somewhere without neighbors, I probably would've just sent Sophie out to be alert to further danger, and I would've gone in to finish dinner.  But living where we do, in a nosy, suburban neighborhood, I knew someone would call the police if I didn't get them down.

It has gotten me thinking though.  Remember just 20, 25 years ago when we were kids, and dangerous tomfoolery was part and parcel of growing up?  I spent most of my summer outside, riding my bike all over the place.  At mostly any given time, my mom did not know whose house I was at.  We spent days and days filling the newly paved street in our neighborhood with chalk murals - kids of all ages and both sexes sprawled out on the Bridgewater street, drawing, yelling, "Car!!!" when we heard one coming.  Just last night, we had a long talk about the good ol' days; Dan and I were talking about our childhoods and adolescences. Dan talked of all the recess games they used to play: kickball, dodgeball, chicken, pickle, spread eagle.  Sophie said that her friends had told her that the year after she left her elementary school (after 3rd grade - she's just starting 9th now), the school had outlawed dodgeball, kickball, and seemingly everything fun.  The kids were no longer allowed to sit on top of the low monkey bars.  The only playground game that was still legal was four-square, but it had to played by the rules the school established and sent out.  But Dan spoke of long games of manhunt every summer night from 7th onward.  He also regaled us with tales of how he, Omar, Tim, and Yau made up "Challenges."  Each person took a turn "hosting" and devising incredibly dangerous, fun, and manly physical challenges.  They spent a whole week making a huge, icy, sled jump to see how far they could launch themselves over a creek.  They climbed trees, seeing who could go the highest.  They used a fallen tree over a ravine as a balance beam; they had to dive over fences - clearing them completely.  They even climbed onto the roof of the middle school by climbing the bricks of the school's facade.  Can you imagine?  I feel a little stressed letting my 10 year old son ride his bike alone now! Why is it so different?  Did today's atrocities really not occur back then - or did we just not hear about it?  Were people really friendlier, safer?  Why was it a totally normal and even an expected thing that 50 years ago, most country boys my son's age could responsibly handle using a gun, splitting wood, and caring for large animals?  It seems that we've so far removed ourselves, and yes even our children, from responsibility.  And perhaps, we've let fear rule us.  But truly, there is a lot of ugliness, sin, and depravity out there.  It's a lot to think about, a little sad to ponder, and it certainly makes me feel old.  I long for some land, some woods, and  a simpler, quieter, and dare I say, more dangerous life for my kids - where they can test their physical limits, be creative, and interact with God's laws of nature.  I want them to be able to climb big trees, hunt things, track things, grow things, build forts, ride bikes, and yes, even perch like gargoyles on the roof...without my neighbors gawking or me having a heart attack.

What did you do as a kid that you'd never let (or couldn't let) your kids do now?  Leave it in a comment below!  Let's chat about it!

the stream rambles on...

The stream of consciousnesses that is...

It's been ages since I blogged, and part of the problem is that so much has happened, and I have so many thoughts, but none of it is really linked together, you know?

I could tell you about how Jamey crapped in the cat's litter box because both of our potties were occupied.  When I found him, crouching over the litter box waiting to be wiped, I didn't know whether to laugh or scream.  "But I was gonna poop my pants!" he exclaimed.  Or I could tell you how he announced:  "I have changed Caleb's name.  It is now Johnson."  (Caleb is one of his best buddies, the son of one of my  best buddies - shout out to Dawson!)

I could tell you about the time John just opened the side door and peed out onto the steps because, well...I have no idea why or how I have so clearly failed to teach my little sons where it's appropriate to pee or poop.  I could tell you that Johnnycakes turned five, and I can't even figure out how that happened.  I could also mention how I found John leading James in the great paintball disaster of 2012:  stomping old brittle paintballs all over the newly cleaned and swept garage floor.  Or how the clean up of that backfired because using scrub brushes to slop soapy water over the mess and scrub it up was not a punishment, but good fun.

I could also mention how while James was sitting in a timeout on the stairs for throwing something at John, he spied Anna's American Girl doll, and a pair of scissors.  Need I say more?  WHILE IN TIME-OUT for goodness' sake!  Why were there scissors on the stairs, you might ask?  I have no freakin' idea.  With five kids, things are rarely where they are supposed to be.

I also could mention that I had my first emergency room trip for what seemed to be a fairly real emergency...Anna B hurt her foot really badly on our friend's trampoline.  It swelled and turned ugly colors, and she couldn't bear any weight on it.  Thankfully, we were down in Hunterdon County, staying with the Dawsons, due to the fact that it was VBS week at church, and Sophie and I were volunteers, plus all the kids were participating.  It started very early in the morning, and we live far away.  Since I was down in my hometown area, I knew how to get to the hospital and all.  So one ER trip, xray, and orthopedist visit later, Anna's foot was deemed a sprain, and she's in a brace.

I could tell you how Dan bought a 500,000 btu propane garden torch for burning weeds, and we singed quite a few veggies.  Oops.

I might mention about how I have finished school this year with 4 outta 5 kids.  One is still wrapping up her favorite subjects of Math and Science (I hope I didn't get you wet with my dripping sarcasm).

Another possible topic would  be how excited I am for school next year; we are going back to Konos - a hands-on, projects and discovery learning, unit study curriculum that I used for three years when I first started homeschooling.  I lured some friends in with me (who had previously used Konos, too) by offering to write wonderful lesson plans for them.  SCORE!  They're in, and it all works out (it didn't take much luring, though, since they were all wanting to go back to Konos in some form.  Once you do Konos, nothing else feels right!)  So I could tell you about these amazing plans I've made, and how I am done with plans for August through December.  Or how those plans have been typed, formatted, printed, put into a binder and passed out.  Or I could mention how I am currently working on the plans for January through May, and how I only have 6 weeks left to plan...but that might be tooting my own horn.  ;p

I might mention how I played paintball with my oldest two kids for the first time, and it was a blast!  I think I might need my own camo pants.

Or maybe I could tell you about how I have the best husband ever, who upon seeing my ardor and success doing the GAPS diet, bought me a yogurt maker and a VITA-MIX!  YES!  A VITA-MIX!  It's just the best most amazing blender in the world, in case you didn't know.  So  now I make smoothies and all sorts of things daily.  I have at least one smoothie a day, filled with the likes of kale, nuts, fruit, and coconut butter.  Which leads me to thoughts like, "Why did God make peaches fuzzy?  I hate that fuzz.  It's offensive, really."

But what I have been thinking about lately, is prayer.  I have been thinking on the differences of prayers.  I have just been through the hardest few years of my life to date.  Harder even than the years surrounding the time when Dan and I came home from college pregnant; how I wish I had known the Lord then!  But in spiritual hindsight, it is so clear how He used all that to draw me to Himself.  Our Fia is such an amazing blessing, such an awesome kid; I know He's used her - certainly in my life - to grow me.  But in thinking through these tough times, the emotional toil, I got to thinking about desperate prayer versus fervent prayer.  I feel like the prayer in these last few years has often been the "rescue me" prayer of desperation.  The kind of prayer that is hanging by fingernails over the cliff of insanity, gripping to a knowledge of  God's goodness, even though the churning waters are rising.  Those have been the prayers for me that were often chokingly wordless.  These were the prayers that just spilled out with sighs and tears.

Lately, as the waters have started to recede, and I can realize that the rock has been so solid under my feet...that those swirling waters have washed away the muck of the pit I thought I was in.  He was solid under me the whole time.  I am in a place now, finally, where I am seeing some of what God has taught me and Dan through all of this.  How He's used the dark moments to crystallize and illuminate both my and Dan's dreams and gifts.  And as this emerges, I've realized that my prayers have gone from desperate to fervent.  My prayers are still often of the "Please, God" type.  But instead of being "Please God take this away, I can't do this anymore," they have become "Please, God, create in me a clean heart...and renew a steadfast spirit within me"  type prayer.  I have been praying more along the lines of begging Him to let these dreams He's given me line up with His will for us as a family. So, often that comes out as a "Please, God"... you know, while I am doing laundry, cooking dinner, or weeding the garden.  But what I have realized these types of prayers have in common is this:  "We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express" (Romans 8:26).  I know that it is the Spirit working in both of these kinds of prayers, both fervent and desperate...I can rest in knowing that God hears all of them, and He KNOWS what each means.  I have learned that, "Those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God.  For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of Sonship.  And by him we cry, 'Abba, Father!'  The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children" (Romans 8:14-16).  "Abba" is a close, affectionate term for Dad - like "Daddy" or "Papa."  I can cry out to him as "Daddy" - I don't have to be afraid, and I can trust that God, and the Spirit, is interpreting all the groans of my soul.  I am His child.  HE is GOOD.  So He wants good for me.  Whether desperately or fervently, I can wait, patiently, to see how He's leading me.  Pray with me please, for patience, for wisdom, for a heart that is pure for service - not praying selfishly?  Pray please that my dreams and God's will are aligned?

Caught by His web,
MamaWebb
Isaiah 43:1-5

Best darn carrot salad without measurements

So, one of my bff's, Kim, has been lovingly on my case for years now about writing a cookbook, or teaching cooking classes, or somehow organizing my food knowledge.  But that is so hard for me because food is a little like a mother tongue for me; I don't ever think much about measurements.  I cook until it looks right, until the taste, texture, or smell is right - until it looks good.  Unfortunately this doesn't work for everyone, and I get that.  So, since I was starving to death using my sweet Richard Simmons's Food Mover system, and I wasn't feeling good, I started looking into some other options for cleaning up my health and that of my family.  I knew some people on a forum I frequent at www.simplycharlottemason.com had written about the GAPS diet.  On some divinely inspired impulse, I started researching it.  I was floored!  Being an information addict, I read online until my eyes went blurry.  I ordered Gut and Psychology Syndrome by Dr. Natasha Campbell-McBride, and I hungrily devoured the book (pun intended).  I have not done the healing intro diet yet, but I have gone full GAPS for about 2.5 weeks.  In that time, I have been able to stop taking my allergy medicine and have been able to stop taking my GERD/reflux meds. My belly is slowly healing, and I have to pay close attention to what I eat, but I feel so much better!  As a lovely side note, I have lost several pounds as well.  So, mainly at dinner, we have been having two or three veggies with some kind of meat (as clean as we can afford), and the other day, I was searching for something different and easy.  I invented the following carrot salad.  It is almost GAPS diet legal, but Dr. Campbell-McBride suggests not eating fruit with a meal...but oh well, this was darn yummy.  Perhaps we could almost call it a desert...

Use your box grater or a shredding disc on your food processor to shred about 8 organic carrots.

Put these shredded carrots in a large bowl.
Add about 1/2 cup unsweetened shredded coconut
Add about 1/4 cup organic raisins
Add about 1/4 cup unsweetened dried apricots, diced
Add about 1/4 cup blanched raw almonds, slivered
Toss all this together.

In a smaller separate bowl mix:
about 1/4 cup mayonnaise (homemade is preferable, but can use organic mayo.  try to avoid regular, which is made with GMO soybean oil)
about 1/3 cup plain keifer or yogurt
about 1/2 teaspoon raw apple cider vinegar
one small squeeze of lemon juice (about 1 wedge's worth)
about 2 teaspoons of raw honey (or to your taste; i like it a bit sweet)
celtic sea salt to taste
several cracks of fresh black pepper

Whisk all this together well.  Taste and adjust seasoning; you want it a bit tart and tangy and a bit sweet.

Mix the dressing over the carrots and fruit and nuts.  Toss well and allow to marinate for at least 10 minutes before eating.  If you can wait!

You will probably need to play around with the amounts of things, particularly the dressing - this is just my best guesstimate.  Start with a little of each ingredient and add and taste, add and taste.  Enjoy!  And I highly recommend the Gut and Psychology Syndrome Book...amazing business, that book!

In His web,
MamaWebb

Fail

Clearly, I have failed as a mother.  Clearly.  Just a few moments ago, my youngest daughter, B, asked me: “Are we whole Americans, or are we half American, half something else?”   Hahaha, sigh.  So this led us to a discussion of our own mixed bag of European heritage.  Which then led us to a discussion of other languages. 

My oldest daughter, Fia, wants to learn French, as I did in high school.  She was asking me various “how to say…” questions.  I remembered a little.  We started talking about slang in other languages and also in our own.  This led us to a discussion of curse words, and the kids wanted to know if other languages had curse words.  “Yes,” I assured them.  And yes, I remember them.   Frankly, I can swear in three languages – four, if you count my mother tongue. 

So, Fia then asks me, “How did you learn the bad words?”  Well, my friend Kevin (a dear friend for many years of my childhood) taught me some.  He also taught me how to say: “I think I am going to cough up a hairball,” which he learned from a book titled French for Cats or something like that.  But the rest I learned in France when I visited.  Fia, then asked…wait for it…wait for it:  “How did you figure it out before Google?”

Oh, really, are we that old? Fail.

Here’s another example of my failure.  This weekend, Anna B earned some money for chores, and she wanted a bit more so she could buy her brother, Nate, a birthday present.  So since she knew that Johnjohn had a dollar, she wheedled him into giving her his dollar if she did a magic trick.  At dinner, when we told Daddy about this, Johnjohn says:  “Actually, it was Jamey’s dollar. I still have mine.”  Parenting fail.  Sigh.

Yesterday, was a day where my desire to flee the house was overwhelming.  It started with everyone oversleeping.  Then no one was following directions to hurry up, get dressed, get downstairs.   We finally got moving on our schoolwork, but when it came to Latin, my son, Nate, decided he just wasn’t doing it, or listening to me.  He yelled; he cried.  He stomped out of the house.  Fail. Fia kept pulling her disappearing teenager act.  The dog wouldn’t stop barking, but I couldn’t get her in the house.  James peed his pants three times. (Fail.  He’s been potty trained for a year, but I guess I have to start setting a timer again.  Yay.   One more thing to oversee and follow through on.)  The kids made the yard a huge mess and kept fooling around instead of cleaning it up.  Then I made the ultimate mistake of trying to get Nate to finish his weekend chores; all that was left was cleaning his room.   I asked the younger three to help, and I offered them a 1$ reward.  So they get to work, but Nate, who’s spend the last six weeks complaining that the boys don’t help, came down to whine at me that he “doesn’t work well with others," and that he just wanted to do it himself.  But now the littles are pumped to earn a dollar.  Then I told Nate that he had to clean his room, and if the little boys wanted to help, he couldn’t exclude them.  And I said, cleaning it up was not an option; chores are a basic responsibility if he wanted to be a part of this family.  So he stormed out of the house again:  “Well maybe I don’t want to be a part of this family.” 

So I said, “Fine, leave.”  Sigh.  Parenting fail.

And the bickering and unkindness and constant tattling just went on and on.  I was trying to make dinner, knowing Dan had a meeting after work and wouldn’t be home until after the kids’ bedtime.  The kids sort of cleaned up the yard.  (But this morning as I went to feed the chickens, I found two Barbie rollerblades, one sled, one watering can, one sneaker, and every toy weapon the boys own out there - all rained upon last night).
 

So the boys’ room went unfinished.  And dinner was late.  And Nate wouldn’t do his dishes chore – Fia had done her part.  As I was getting the little boys ready for bed, we had tooth trouble.  They had brushed their teeth, but then proceeded to eat the pretzels that Nate had brought up to his room against my wishes.  So I told them to brush again.  Then, Jamey proceeded to drink juice out of a sippy that he found.  Brush again.  Finally, as I went to put them in bed, I realized most of what had been on the floor in the boys’ room was now on John’s bed.  I looked over at James’s bed, and it was naked.  No fitted sheet, no mattress cover.  But wait- what was that?  What the h**l was that?  On the naked mattress, was a disgusting wet pile of chewed-up-spit-out pretzel.   And at this, I just became a raving lunatic.  I let out one long wavering howl of frustration.  Parenting fail.

Turns out, John had chewed them up and spit them out, in order to pretend his “mouth was pooping.”  Dear Lord, really?  This is really my daily minutia?  Please, God, tell me you care about even this, ‘cause I just can’t take it.  Every effort to teach and demonstrate manners and decorum is lost on the young Y-chromosome.  Sigh.  Parenting fail.

The day ended with me feebly attempting to teach physics formulas to Fia, because Dan wasn’t home yet.  Thank God he arrived one equation in.

And, today?  Well.  B is done with all her school except two things I have to do with her.  John practiced the letter “L” and Sophie is sort of working.  She’s been sure to sing lots of songs and stand in the chairs at the homeschool table and ask me how people learned things before Google.  And Nate?  He hasn’t even started his first subject, even though I’ve put him back in his seat like six times and told him to go there at least 6 million times.  Yes, today appears to be shaping up as one where those alpha-bits will be seeking to get the better of Nate.  So, I am signing off, putting on my armor, asking God to bless this fight with His presence, and I will carry on.  He's the only One who will get us all through the daily muck and mire...

Thankful to be caught in His web,

MamaWebb

Fire

     Easter was lovely in our house.  As one of (arguably the) holiest days of the year for a Christian, I am so pleased with the gratefulness that was flowing through the hearts of my family this weekend.

     We started by going to church together on Saturday night...our pastor preached a beautiful message about how God never wastes our wounds...He's always using them to make something new.  The next morning, the kids were thrilled to discover candy and trinkets and "Phineas and Ferb Live" tickets in their Easter baskets.  And, frankly, no one ever outgrows egg hunts.  So, they hunted eggs in succession according to their ages.  Then we finally got around to dyeing our eggs, which we then ate with our homemade Easter bread.  While we ate, Dan read the Easter story from the last few chapters of Mathew, and here's a beautiful blessing: everyone listened...even the little boys.  Amazing.  We cleaned, and family arrived.  The kids had a blast with their grandparents and cousins...there were lovely conversations, games, chicken observations, great food, and general merriment. As Dan's parents were leaving, they noticed someone had put a "Little Tykes" playhouse out for garbage; they called to see if we wanted it...um yeah!  So, Dan and some of the kids went to help load it into the back of Pooey's (my father-on-law) truck.  While they were gone, Nate and I tossed a nerf-style football around.  Once home and assembled, we saw that it was in decent shape - just missing the door.  Easily solved by cutting a piece of tarp and screwing it up over the door.  Voila!  Kids are amused.  Gram and Pooey also found two matching toy dump trucks that my little boys are just adoring driving all around the yard.

     So picture this...we're all outside, kids are happy and playing, Sophie is hungrily reading The Hunger Games, I am chasing my chickens around with my camera, and Dan is preparing our first fire of the season.  (See, I am married to a pyro.  And I am raising several more of them.  Fire is such a unite-r.)

     Before I know it, everyone has pulled up a chair around the fire pit...quiet conversation and contended sighs testify to the soothing balm that togetherness brings.  But it is the warmth, the glow, the fire that has me thinking.  It was not only the togetherness.  It was not only the gorgeous weather.  It was not only the lovely time with family, and it was not my homemade mac and cheese.  On Saturday, we went to sleep with praise music singing through our heads and our Pastor's words on our hearts, after worshipping together - no Sunday school,  no serving, no teaching.  Just all of us in church, together.  Then, we awoke to a remembrance of Christ's loving sacrifice for us; we started the day with prayer, broken bread, and His Word.  That.  THAT is the fuel to the fire. The Spirit is just fanning it into a something bigger, hotter, more consuming...  How do we keep that roaring in the minutia of everyday?  The key is in the fuel...we have to keep feeding the fire, so the Spirit has something to fan.

     I was noticing, as Dan and I put some old sticks and fence panels on the fire, how quickly this dry timber caught fire and how quickly it roared up into a huge blaze, a blaze that seemed to sear the fronts of our legs as we sat near it.  But in this huge blaze, this dry timber was so quickly consumed...isn't that so like our spiritual lives?  I am reminded of a portion of my favorite Shakespearean sonnet, from sonnet 73:

     "In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
     That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
     As the death-bed whereon it must expire
     Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by."

Shakespeare was not writing about God.  In fact scholars think he was writing to a lover who was not his wife, a lover the scholars call the "fair youth" (who was probably male).  But what caught me was this - can others see God's fire glowing in you?  In me?  And conversely, can they see when it is not?  Is your faith, my faith...is it lying upon the ashes of our youth - our foolishness - our world hungry selves?  Or is it lying on the ashes of His Word, His Love, His Sacrifice?  If you don't continue to feed a fire some fuel, the ashes will eventually smother out the remaining embers, right?  No fuel, no oxygen, no fire.  So a fire is "consumed with that which is is nourished by."  What are you feeding your fire?  How often are you feeding your fire?  What is in your ashes?  What about mine...if I don't provide good fuel of God's word, worship, and prayer, what once fed my fire will become the very thing that smothers it out.

 
     I have noticed that a hunger for God is often an inverse hunger.  The more I feed myself of Him, the more I want.  The less I feed myself of Him, the less and less I hunger for His word, His precepts, Him.  And isn't that so like a fire?  The more you feed a fire, the bigger it gets, the hotter, the hungrier.  But leave it be, and it will smother itself out.  So how can we feed the fire of a family?  Feed it together.

     Our God is a relational God - so relational that He Himself exists as a relationship between the Father, the Son, and the Spirit.  So to grow faith as a family, in a community, we must seek out ways to feed our fires His fuel...together.  Yes, we must grow our own faiths personally and independently, too; this is not to negate the importance of that.  But I can't help but reflect on the beautiful glow of my family, of my kids, of us as a family relational unit that came about on Easter Sunday.  We don't get a chance to start our day in prayer or God's word (or even end it, for that matter) as much as I want.  But this weekend, we were all looking at God's goodness and love, feeling thankful, lapping up the nourishment provided by His Word and the mystery of worship, and we did it together.  That is what fueled the fire...the fire that unites us with Him: "Both the one who makes men holy and those who are made holy are of the same family. So Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers" (Hebrews 2:11).

     So the take-away:  let the glow of togetherness as a family be fueled by a seeking of Him together, outside of Sunday's church.  It needs to be regular, like eating, sleeping.  And honestly, praying before meals and bed isn't gonna cut it anymore.  We are hungrier now, older in our faith.  We haven't yet found something that we can stick with as a family to do this, regularly, always.  Pray with me that God will show us how?

Grateful for His web of grace,
MamaWebb

Slaphappy hairy pits

     It's just been that kind of day and I could commit a homicide if I were promised a big corner brownie for it (I like the crunchy corners the best).  I returned home from taking Fia to dance, to find one child in time out (we call it "reset") for using potty words, and the rest of the kids sitting at dinner with  Dan.  Well, sitting might not be the right word.  They were full-on slaphappy.  Someone slipped them crack, or some sugary red dye #40 kool-aid while I wasn't looking or something.  They were loud, crazy -- possibly deranged.  There were at least 52 references to butts or pee or other bodily parts/functions, one child wearing a zip up sweatshirt as pants and jumping up to yell, "Look at my tail," as he waggled the sweatshirt's dangling hood between his legs, several elephant imitations, a few weakly muffled belches, and the piece de resistance:  the following conversation.

     Nate:  "Anna, a trick question...what is one plus one?"

     Anna:  "Uh, 2, duh!"

     Nate:  "No, one plus one is-"

     Jamey, interrupting:  "Hairy pits!!!"

     This, of course, set off much laughter and discussion about hair, armpits, and smells.  I finally got Nate to clear the dishes, but right now, from upstairs, I hear some sort of assault being launched with a hair dryer (which the teenaged daughter left out after using it to dry her nails).  Someone is spitting something offensive out of his mouth, and the house has that "the-middles-of-the-rooms-are-sort-of-clean- because-we-piled-everything-up-on-the-surfaces-and-shoved-it-all-to-the-edges" look. Ah, and just now, someone let the dog out who is barking at all the passsersby.  Annnddd, now they just went out after her.  Maybe they'll put away the three tires they stacked in the middle of the yard, their father's baseball stuff they dragged out, the multiple shoes, socks, scooters, bikes, toys, tools, trucks, and sippy cups they left out.  Oh yeah, and maybe they'll put away the bent, rusted, broken 5' bit of shale bar that they keep sticking into the ground in weird spots all over the yard like a minimalist sculpture.  Or not.  I bet they're on my dirt pile that we're in the process of moving into the raised bed garden boxes that I built (almost all by myself, I might add).  I'm just gonna hide in here until Dan gets back with Fia.  On the upshot, I made a cool broccoli salad for lunch.  I thought I'd share the reason and the recipe.

     I have started working out with some Richard Simmons DVD's.  And they are hysterically fun.  Hard, too!  So I ordered his Foodmover system and have been following some of his plan. And I am starving.  Sigh.  It's all about portion control.  That's tough for me.  I don't eat too terribly  - pretty healthfully, actually,  compared to the standard American diet.  I just like food.  And brownies.  And Cadbury eggs. A lot.  So today as I was snapping closed little purple Foodmover windows and contemplating what I could eat, I decided on a broccoli salad with some ingredients I had on hand.  It would be great with a few raw cashews or almonds thrown in, too.  This is a lunch serving for one, so increase accordingly, as desired:

1 cup raw broccoli, broken into tiny 1" florets
1/4 cup mandarin oranges, cut in half (the kind packed in juice with no added sugar)
1 tbs very finely minced onion
1/3 cup baby bell pepper slivers (i used one red, one orange, one yellow - i get them in a 2lb bag...they are very small)
1 tsp fresh grated ginger (or the grated bottled fresh from the produce section, not powdered from baking aisle)
1 tbs juice from mandarin oranges
1 1/2 tsp lemon juice
2 tsp extra virgin olive oil
few cracks of black pepper
pinch of garlic salt
few pinches sea salt

1. Mix orange and lemon juice, ginger, salt, garlic salt, pepper in a small mixing bowl and whisk together. Let marinate while you cut up the veggies and oranges.
2. Throw the rest of the ingredients in and stir around to coat.
3. Add the oil, stir really well, and allow to marinate about 5-10 minutes, then serve.

     I also thought I'd throw a few numbers around for your amusement as well, before signing off.  In the last two days...

The number of sticks I found in the house yesterday: 3.5

The number of times I had to run Dan and Nate's paintball camo stuff through the wash because I kept forgetting it was in the washer: 4

The number of baskets of clean laundry waiting to be folded: 4

The number of times I asked the kids to clean up the yard: 3

The number of academic subjects I taught or oversaw daily: 7

The number of times I cleaned out the baby chickens' waterer: 5

The number of times I "Partied off the Pounds" with Richard Simmons: 1

The number of times I told Fia or Nate to sit down and do their school work: 15, 000

The number of times I have desired to eat chocolate: 21, 600 (every 4 seconds or so)

The number of times I wished I had someone else's life:  0

Blessings and Love to you all,
MamaWebb