2 MORE Rachel stories:
Last night on the way home from Cubbies, Rachel asked me, "Mom, why can't I be like God?" Of course, thinking I was seizing a "teachable moment," I replied, like anyone would have, "You can become more like God every day by obeying what He tells you to do."
"No, Mom, not THAT." (She's heard this song and dance before.) "When will I be as big and strong as God? "
"Well, Sweetie, you won't ever be as strong as God, because only God can do things like make the sun come up, control the weather, create a little kitten or heal someone who's sick. God can do ANYTHING."
There was silence from the back seat for a few seconds, and then she asked breathlessly, "Can He even make JELL-O?"
_________________________________________
On the way to Cubbies, earlier in the evening, Rachel & I stopped by the Dollar Tree to pick up a few items for the Operation Christmas Child boxes the kids were going to make. She picked out a Backyardigans toothbrush and toothpaste, and a small stuffed dog. We also bought her a little stuffed Ariel that caught her eye. (I know - I have a major weakness for buying her cute things from dollar stores, but hey - it's only $1.00)
As we loaded back into the car, I thought I'd try a little experiment and see how it turned out. "Rachel," I said, "We were just talking today about ways to make Jesus happy. I bet there is a little girl in another country who doesn't have any dolls who would just love to have your Ariel doll." I had this touching picture in my mind of her tearfully parting with her doll for the sake of a poor little girl somewhere, and then me going and getting her another doll and surprising her, to reward her for her kindness.
We had a pretty lengthy discussion about sharing and sacrificing for others. Finally, just when I thought she was coming around to make the selfless decision, she said, "Well, if I give my Ariel doll to a little girl who doesn't have one, I'm going to need another one."
After last night, I decided to take a break from looking for "teachable moments" for a while.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
In Other News . . .
Some munchkin highlights:
Rachel has finally achieved her goal of someday being big enough to climb a tree - even if it is just the small lilac "tree" in our back yard near the alley. Don't ask me why, but she loves wedging herself between the branches and pretending to sleep there. She also sits various stuffed animals on different limbs and forgets about them, resulting in devastation when Mommy or Daddy find them after a rainstorm.
She loves going to Cubbies on Wednesday nights and earning Lov E. Lamb and Ern E. Elephant patches by saying Bible verses. What she talks about most, though, is the snack. Every week she saves a little of it in a napkin to take home for her brother . . . so sweet.
Speaking of Bible verses, Zekers has learned his first one, complete with reference. I ask him repeatedly what it is, just because I love hearing him say, "Your Word is troof. Uncle John 17:17." OK, we're still working on the reference.
Zekers is way into dogs, Thomas the Train, and answering in complete sentences. I'm not kidding - we've tried and tried, in vain, to get him to simply answer "yes" or "no" to questions we ask. It can't be done. When I ask, "Would you like to go to bed, Mr. Beef?" his reply is, "No, I would not like to go to bed, Mommy," in this really choppy, gravelly voice. At least, if he keeps it up, he'll have excellent grades in English class someday.
And Kari Bou? She certainly keeps busy emptying drawers and cupboards, trying to eat paper and dirt, and grabbing everything in sight. Her mission: search and destroy the entire house. Several weeks ago, she discovered how to open the door to the church nursery. She's a baby on the move. But it's impossible to get too annoyed with her, since every time I try to reprimand her she flashes a huge, ornery smile or starts to laugh. Usually I end up joining her - she's just so irresistably cute.
That's it for now . Maybe if I write enough of these I can get out of writing a Christmas update letter by refering everyone to my blog. Very tempting.
Rachel has finally achieved her goal of someday being big enough to climb a tree - even if it is just the small lilac "tree" in our back yard near the alley. Don't ask me why, but she loves wedging herself between the branches and pretending to sleep there. She also sits various stuffed animals on different limbs and forgets about them, resulting in devastation when Mommy or Daddy find them after a rainstorm. She loves going to Cubbies on Wednesday nights and earning Lov E. Lamb and Ern E. Elephant patches by saying Bible verses. What she talks about most, though, is the snack. Every week she saves a little of it in a napkin to take home for her brother . . . so sweet.
Speaking of Bible verses, Zekers has learned his first one, complete with reference. I ask him repeatedly what it is, just because I love hearing him say, "Your Word is troof. Uncle John 17:17." OK, we're still working on the reference. Zekers is way into dogs, Thomas the Train, and answering in complete sentences. I'm not kidding - we've tried and tried, in vain, to get him to simply answer "yes" or "no" to questions we ask. It can't be done. When I ask, "Would you like to go to bed, Mr. Beef?" his reply is, "No, I would not like to go to bed, Mommy," in this really choppy, gravelly voice. At least, if he keeps it up, he'll have excellent grades in English class someday.
And Kari Bou? She certainly keeps busy emptying drawers and cupboards, trying to eat paper and dirt, and grabbing everything in sight. Her mission: search and destroy the entire house. Several weeks ago, she discovered how to open the door to the church nursery. She's a baby on the move. But it's impossible to get too annoyed with her, since every time I try to reprimand her she flashes a huge, ornery smile or starts to laugh. Usually I end up joining her - she's just so irresistably cute. That's it for now . Maybe if I write enough of these I can get out of writing a Christmas update letter by refering everyone to my blog. Very tempting.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Mermaids and Monster Mountain
OK, time for another "picture post" - my lame attempt to justify having a digital camera. :-)
Several weeks ago, we took a trip with Grandma Miller to Wegerzyn Metro Park - home of the Scarecrow Convention! We trekked through wooded paths; took in beautiful fall flowers, leaves and fountains; and walked past dozens of . . . well, rather interesting . . . scarecrows. Rachel's favorite was, of course, the Mermaid. Zekers was so delighted by the "Horse and Rider" scarecrow - a knight riding what I guess was supposed to be a horse with 2 heads - that I couldn't even get him to pose for a picture with it. All he wanted to do was stand in front of the monstrosity, gazing up in total awe and admiration.
The highlight for Kari Bou was definitely the outdoor discovery place. She thouroughly enjoyed drenching herself in the cold water - good thing the temp got up to 75 that day! Actually, all three of them were pretty wet by the end of the afternoon. We had to go back to Grandma's so we could hang all the kids' clothing - including Rachel's underwear - on a tree to dry.
We spent Saturday at Brumbaugh's Fruit Farm with friends. We walked through the woods and played in Snow White's cottage, a pirate ship and a castle with a drawbridge; we took rides on a zip-line sort of swing; the dads & kiddos went through a corn maze; we slid down Monster Mountain, a huge tube slide built into a hill; we ate yummy apple fritters and rubbery hot dogs; we petted cats, dogs and goats; and the kids played in mounds of hay and corn, managing to get particles of both on just about every square inch of their bodies. (Why does every "fun" trip we take seem to involve a complete change of clothes afterward?)
The most humorous part of the day was definitely lunch. Danny excitedly ordered a "walking taco," thinking it would be like the ones at the fair. What he got was a very small Fritos bag about half full with Fritos, chili and a few pieces of lettuce and cheese. He came drooping back to the picnic table looking like a sad puppy dog; he'd actually eaten the entire thing on the way over to the table. The only thing that saved him was being able to down 2 large tacos after coming back home.
Good times . . . Some days I wish autumn could last forever . . .
Several weeks ago, we took a trip with Grandma Miller to Wegerzyn Metro Park - home of the Scarecrow Convention! We trekked through wooded paths; took in beautiful fall flowers, leaves and fountains; and walked past dozens of . . . well, rather interesting . . . scarecrows. Rachel's favorite was, of course, the Mermaid. Zekers was so delighted by the "Horse and Rider" scarecrow - a knight riding what I guess was supposed to be a horse with 2 heads - that I couldn't even get him to pose for a picture with it. All he wanted to do was stand in front of the monstrosity, gazing up in total awe and admiration. 
The highlight for Kari Bou was definitely the outdoor discovery place. She thouroughly enjoyed drenching herself in the cold water - good thing the temp got up to 75 that day! Actually, all three of them were pretty wet by the end of the afternoon. We had to go back to Grandma's so we could hang all the kids' clothing - including Rachel's underwear - on a tree to dry. 
We spent Saturday at Brumbaugh's Fruit Farm with friends. We walked through the woods and played in Snow White's cottage, a pirate ship and a castle with a drawbridge; we took rides on a zip-line sort of swing; the dads & kiddos went through a corn maze; we slid down Monster Mountain, a huge tube slide built into a hill; we ate yummy apple fritters and rubbery hot dogs; we petted cats, dogs and goats; and the kids played in mounds of hay and corn, managing to get particles of both on just about every square inch of their bodies. (Why does every "fun" trip we take seem to involve a complete change of clothes afterward?)The most humorous part of the day was definitely lunch. Danny excitedly ordered a "walking taco," thinking it would be like the ones at the fair. What he got was a very small Fritos bag about half full with Fritos, chili and a few pieces of lettuce and cheese. He came drooping back to the picnic table looking like a sad puppy dog; he'd actually eaten the entire thing on the way over to the table. The only thing that saved him was being able to down 2 large tacos after coming back home.
Good times . . . Some days I wish autumn could last forever . . .
Friday, October 13, 2006
Like Pulling Teeth
I HATE going to the dentist. In fact, I wish there was a stronger word than "hate" so I could use that instead. A trip to the dentist effectively ruins my entire day, if not the remainder of the week.
Let me explain. Rachel was recently due for her second annual dentist visit. She did great, and I was very proud of her. The hygienist counted and cleaned her teeth; the dentist congratulated her on going a year without sucking her thumb (After last year's visit, we came straight home and duct taped mittens onto her hands every night for 2 weeks. It was so sad, but she knew it had to be done. She would even remind us to tape on her mittens if we forgot.); she received a Disney Princess flosser, a new pink toothbrush and a Gloria sticker (from Madagascar). Then it was my turn.
When it comes to physical features, there is nothing I'm more insecure about than my teeth. Which is why I try not to think about them EVER - even when I'm brushing, which I do on occasion. So 30 minutes spent focusing on nothing BUT my teeth adds up to my worst nightmare. The pointy metal instrument they love to use has to be some kind of torture device; it's like dragging a metal fork down a chalkboard, right there inside your mouth. Then there's the cardboard guards they shove halfway down your throat - 4 times - just to get some lousy pictures of you molars. Oh yes, and the best part is the "toothpaste" they use to clean your teeth, and the little dribble of water that never quite gets rid of the grittiness. When you ask for more water, you get another little dribble, then you clamp down on the suction device until your face turns inside out.
Another thing I've noticed: I believe it is the universal goal of dental hygienists to ensure that all patients leave the premises without one shred of self-respect. My hygienist (who was very friendly and chatty, and who I probably would have really liked had we met under ANY other circumstances) asked me whether I floss every day. I said no, and was about to explain that I do floss about twice a week, but I didn't have a chance to get that much out before I was reprimanded for my deplorable lack of dental hygiene. When the dentist came in, I heard her tell him I was "a bad flosser." So there you have it, folks - my new identity: I'm A BAD FLOSSER. The other thing is, they do this to you while your mouth is being pried open and excavated, so you can't even defend yourself. It's cruel and unfair.
For a good 20 minutes, I sat there and listened to words like "decalcification" and "discoloration" and "plaque." Worst of all, I was told my teeth will get darker WITH AGE. I guess it's all downhill for me. I heard these words as through a fog, because suddenly I was back in jr. high, standing naked in a busy hallway (For the record, I never actually did that in jr. high, but I'm pretty sure I dreamed it several times), a glaring spotlight revealing my imperfections to the world. I wanted nothing more than to go home and staple my mouth shut.
My dentist, who is very, very good at what he does, did hold out a faint ray of hope. Next week I get to go back and get fitted for molds for my teeth, so I can try bleaching the darn things. If that doesn't work, maybe I'll apply for "Extreme Makeover."
Let me explain. Rachel was recently due for her second annual dentist visit. She did great, and I was very proud of her. The hygienist counted and cleaned her teeth; the dentist congratulated her on going a year without sucking her thumb (After last year's visit, we came straight home and duct taped mittens onto her hands every night for 2 weeks. It was so sad, but she knew it had to be done. She would even remind us to tape on her mittens if we forgot.); she received a Disney Princess flosser, a new pink toothbrush and a Gloria sticker (from Madagascar). Then it was my turn.
When it comes to physical features, there is nothing I'm more insecure about than my teeth. Which is why I try not to think about them EVER - even when I'm brushing, which I do on occasion. So 30 minutes spent focusing on nothing BUT my teeth adds up to my worst nightmare. The pointy metal instrument they love to use has to be some kind of torture device; it's like dragging a metal fork down a chalkboard, right there inside your mouth. Then there's the cardboard guards they shove halfway down your throat - 4 times - just to get some lousy pictures of you molars. Oh yes, and the best part is the "toothpaste" they use to clean your teeth, and the little dribble of water that never quite gets rid of the grittiness. When you ask for more water, you get another little dribble, then you clamp down on the suction device until your face turns inside out.
Another thing I've noticed: I believe it is the universal goal of dental hygienists to ensure that all patients leave the premises without one shred of self-respect. My hygienist (who was very friendly and chatty, and who I probably would have really liked had we met under ANY other circumstances) asked me whether I floss every day. I said no, and was about to explain that I do floss about twice a week, but I didn't have a chance to get that much out before I was reprimanded for my deplorable lack of dental hygiene. When the dentist came in, I heard her tell him I was "a bad flosser." So there you have it, folks - my new identity: I'm A BAD FLOSSER. The other thing is, they do this to you while your mouth is being pried open and excavated, so you can't even defend yourself. It's cruel and unfair.
For a good 20 minutes, I sat there and listened to words like "decalcification" and "discoloration" and "plaque." Worst of all, I was told my teeth will get darker WITH AGE. I guess it's all downhill for me. I heard these words as through a fog, because suddenly I was back in jr. high, standing naked in a busy hallway (For the record, I never actually did that in jr. high, but I'm pretty sure I dreamed it several times), a glaring spotlight revealing my imperfections to the world. I wanted nothing more than to go home and staple my mouth shut.
My dentist, who is very, very good at what he does, did hold out a faint ray of hope. Next week I get to go back and get fitted for molds for my teeth, so I can try bleaching the darn things. If that doesn't work, maybe I'll apply for "Extreme Makeover."
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
A Time to Gag
I guess it's that time of year again. Coughing, dripping, puking, and crying have become the soggy cadence that fills each dragging day. Our house is a veritable snot factory.
It's hard not to dwell on the miseries in this House Where Time Stands Still. Missed social events and church activities. The fact that we're held hostage in our own home. Night after night of crying / coughing munchkins waking every couple of hours.
The fact is, there's an upside to having sick kids. Some much-needed down time. Not worrying about little things like getting dressed or fixing my hair. Longer naps (for the kids). And best of all - lots and lots of snuggle time. I look ahead to days when I will think to myself that I would give anything to have a warm heavy head resting on my chest and arms full of sweet drowsiness.
All the same, I'll be thankful when they're well again. . .
It's hard not to dwell on the miseries in this House Where Time Stands Still. Missed social events and church activities. The fact that we're held hostage in our own home. Night after night of crying / coughing munchkins waking every couple of hours.
The fact is, there's an upside to having sick kids. Some much-needed down time. Not worrying about little things like getting dressed or fixing my hair. Longer naps (for the kids). And best of all - lots and lots of snuggle time. I look ahead to days when I will think to myself that I would give anything to have a warm heavy head resting on my chest and arms full of sweet drowsiness.
All the same, I'll be thankful when they're well again. . .
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Also Overheard on Christian Radio
My friend Jer listed a few several weeks ago on his blog. Here's a couple more I couldn't resist putting up!
I heard the first one yesterday while fixing dinner:
"The phone lines are open - please call now with your pledge! Listen, folks: Satan doesn't want this radio station to exist. He doesn't want us to even be here. In fact, Satan wants us to . . . . not . . . be here."
This one dates all the way back to Valentine's Day, but I laughed so hard I still remember every word:
"OK, our lucky caller number 5 will receive this silk rose and a wonderful book on romancing your wife. Caller number 5 . . . "
Music plays for about 4 minutes
"Alright, men, you still have a chance to win this great prize. Pick up the phone now and dial ________"
Music plays for 4 more minutes
"We're still waiting for that fifth caller . . . . caller number 5 . . . "
I heard the first one yesterday while fixing dinner:
"The phone lines are open - please call now with your pledge! Listen, folks: Satan doesn't want this radio station to exist. He doesn't want us to even be here. In fact, Satan wants us to . . . . not . . . be here."
This one dates all the way back to Valentine's Day, but I laughed so hard I still remember every word:
"OK, our lucky caller number 5 will receive this silk rose and a wonderful book on romancing your wife. Caller number 5 . . . "
Music plays for about 4 minutes
"Alright, men, you still have a chance to win this great prize. Pick up the phone now and dial ________"
Music plays for 4 more minutes
"We're still waiting for that fifth caller . . . . caller number 5 . . . "
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Unfulfilled Longings
God recently confronted me with a truth, and it's been on my mind all week . . .
It's from the book Lies Women Believe, by Nancy Leigh DeMoss. The author tackles 40 different deceptions used by Satan to keep us from a thriving relationship with Christ, and then counters these lies with truth from God's Word. Lie #12 goes something like this:
I should not have to live with unfulfilled longings.
I hadn't realized how much this idea has made its way into my thinking. When I pray, often it's with the attitude that God owes me all my heart's desires . . . that if I ask Him often enough and with the right amount of faith, He will certainly give me what I so earnestly request. Doesn't He want me to be happy?
DeMoss points out, referring to Rom. 8:23, that we will always have unfulfilled longings this side of heaven, and that . . . we must learn to be content with unfulfilled longings. *groan* There's the C-word again.
God has made us in such a way that we can never be truly satisfied with anything or anyone less than Himself (Ps. 16:11, 34:8-10).
The bottom line is, in spite of my self-proclaimed expertise, I don't know what's best for me, or for anyone else. God does, though, and He uses my unfulfilled longings to refine me and deepen my longing for a future life with Him. He uses them to drive me to HIMSELF, the only oasis and true satisfaction.
It's from the book Lies Women Believe, by Nancy Leigh DeMoss. The author tackles 40 different deceptions used by Satan to keep us from a thriving relationship with Christ, and then counters these lies with truth from God's Word. Lie #12 goes something like this:
I should not have to live with unfulfilled longings.
I hadn't realized how much this idea has made its way into my thinking. When I pray, often it's with the attitude that God owes me all my heart's desires . . . that if I ask Him often enough and with the right amount of faith, He will certainly give me what I so earnestly request. Doesn't He want me to be happy?
DeMoss points out, referring to Rom. 8:23, that we will always have unfulfilled longings this side of heaven, and that . . . we must learn to be content with unfulfilled longings. *groan* There's the C-word again.
God has made us in such a way that we can never be truly satisfied with anything or anyone less than Himself (Ps. 16:11, 34:8-10).
The bottom line is, in spite of my self-proclaimed expertise, I don't know what's best for me, or for anyone else. God does, though, and He uses my unfulfilled longings to refine me and deepen my longing for a future life with Him. He uses them to drive me to HIMSELF, the only oasis and true satisfaction.
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