These roses are from my mom's garden, not mine. I have one bush but she has several and I loved this photo. Happy Summer everyone!

These days are so full and go so fast.  I'm hoping that with July just days away I will be able to savor more of summer.  Most of the run around stuff for the kids is done, the ball games and camps and such, and maybe if we have more lazy evenings and hassle-free mornings, I can do more blogging and more setting of myself before God.  I find I'm not setting anywhere for long right now.  I don't mean sitting, I mean setting.  I sit in the car, I sit at the dinner table, I sit at ball games.  I just don't seem to set for very long.  I can set a coffee cup down and it will rest there and just be a part of the scenery for awhile until I remember wher I left it.  I can set a bouquet of flowers on the table and they brighten up the room, reminding me of the beautiful perennials I have in the back yard.  I can set the table and it is prepared, waiting in expectation for the dwellers of our home to sit and eat.  Setting is different than sitting.

Lord Jesus, Redeemer, Friend and King, you are always setting among us, setting before me and behind me.  You hem me in.  I want to set with you awhile.  I want to rest somewhere and be a part of the scenery for awhile with you and just lose myself like a random cup of coffee in my house.  I want to set and be a fragrant offering to you, like the perenials that I cut and enjoy in vases.  I want you to enjoy me, Lord.  I want to set like a place setting at the table, prepared, expecting you to show up in the form of your mighty Holy Spirit and speak to me, minister to me, guide me and break bread with me. 

Thank you, God, that for this brief moment in the morning, in the middle of a busy week, you showed me how to set, more than sit.  Amen.

Be humble

Psalm 145:14:  The Lord upholds all those who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down.

Be humble.  This is something God told me awhile back.  Be Holy, be humble, be helpful.  I focused on the Holy part in earlier verses of Psalm 145 and now verse 14 is the humble part.  It is so hard to be humble.  I hear the kids argue over who is to blame for something and no one chooses to just stop the chatter and say sorry.  Repentence, forgiveness.  Prayer.  For me, the ultimate expression of humility is prayer.  To pray means to yield my thoughts to the Lord, to reveal my inner self and my agenda and my frailty.  To pray means to not proudly assume I can handle it, but to willingly say, "God, you handle it.  You do a better job".  It is in prayer that I can beseech the Holy Spirit to change me, to prune me, to transform me.  It is in prayer that I can stop the chatter in my head and say sorry, to repent and be forgiven.  I don't know how else to practice being humble.  It is not in my nature to be humble so only when I am bowed down am I rightly positioned before God.  He can't lift me up or hold me if I am not bowed down.  He wants to hold me up when I fall.  He promises to hold me up when I am bowed down, on my knees, humbled before his might and power.

God's enemy is satan and his great separation from the Lord was pride.  He wanted to be equal to God.  I don't want to share the same great separation from the Lord.  I loathe my pride.  I loathe it in others, especially my children and family.  I will fight pride every time I taste it and I only know how to do that in prayer.  My horizontal words barely scratch the surface of it, but my vertical ones, heard by the Holy, magestic, God and King who is worthy of my praise....God will work it out in me, to be humble.

Who says Grandma doesn't have a playpen at the lake?

Ok, so its an old picture but a really great example of a squeeze!

a squeeze/a psalm

Tonight at ball games, I had Precious on my lap and she was doing her dancing, squirming, flinging thing that people only truly appreciate when they actually hold her and experience it.  Anyway, I pulled her close and gave her a hearty squeeze.  This is a luxury we can only recently indulge in because she is now so strong and durable.  She was once so fragile and frail and her cries were whimpers.  Not anymore!  She can belt out a big cheer when her sister hits a ball and starts to run, she can wail and throw a fit if someone walks away with her and she makes eye contact with me.  She is strong and she won't break so easily and I get to squeeze her now.  Its a great feeling, to compress her healthy, strong little body against mine and press her into my chest.  She loves it.  She belly laughs or squeals or just smiles and ducks her head down.  She loves physical touch. 

Roger and I barely have time to breathe, much less enjoy eachother's company very often right now.  We pass off kids and schedules and duties and occasionally, if the moment radiates, we manage a hand extended, a squeeze of palm to palm, unspoken words and connection.  It's more than a squeeze.  Physical touch is huge.

Tonight I'm also thinking about a different type of squeeze that cannot be touched, which is why it is so unsettling.  Its in my brain.  I have this squeeze going on with my thoughts.  I'm reflecting on my day and all of the people I encountered, the paths of lives I have crossed, the hard stories, the pain of humanity...and I'm trying to squeeze it in.  So many beautiful moments can happen in a day...taking pictures of a gorgeous baby for his mama to have and cherish...hugging a child who is desperate for attention and affection...policy and paperwork and documentation...all rolled into thoughts that have to squeeze into the mind of a mom, an image-bearer of Christ, a daughter of Zion, a worshipper, an intercessor, a sinner, a friend, a writer, a reader, a cook, a housekeeper, a nurse, a daughter, a sister, a child.  The squeeze is not a headache, but an aching for the touch that gives it purpose and merit. 

Father God, You alone know how to touch and hold and apply pressure and release the squeeze.  These moments are Holy because only You can get to that secret place, that soul place that sometimes needs your embrace.  The arms of my soul are extended, Lord and I feel you reach down and compress my strong and healthy body and I know your arms will press me in to your chest and kiss my head and hold me close.  I may laugh or squeal or smile and duck my head down.  Your touch is the answer to the squeeze.  Your Hands, Jesus, are the hands that press against mine, palm to palm, warm and good.  Healing flows from your Holy hands to mine and we share unspoken words and connection. 

Be exalted, Lord, in this place tonight.  Be exalted in me.  Be exalted in my life.  I feel your squeeze.  Thank you, Yahweh.

My dad and I at the lake. Dad and Mary live here year-round and it is now a Father's Day tradition to spend the weekend here. We had exceptional weather and made some fun memories. We just love, love, love the lake!

Precious is fascinated with our glasses and water bottles...and pulling up on everyone and everything once she has crawled there!

Father's Day. "Train up a child in the way he should go...."

I plugged my photographer, I also need to plug my masseuse.  Yep, I'm a middle class, working mom, boring housewife American and I have one.  She's the best.  She just finished massage school and she so, so worth it.  Donna, shout out to you!  If anyone wants a massage you can schedule with her on mondays, tuesdays and fridays...I think.  Email me for her number and I'll pass on the info.  We may need to eat peanut butter and jelly for a week to balance the check book but I didn't yell at anyone today so I think it was effective.

I also have a housekeeper.  She comes once a week and her name is Nana. 

I have a grounds keeper, too...oh oh, sorry.  That's actually me.  Ok, guess that's it for "the help"...except for the great sitters I have that rotate through every week so that I can work this summer.  That would be the nanny staff I guess. 

Ok, P is flashing her toothy smile and needing mom.  Gotta go.

http://kristig.zenfolio.com/kreditmay2010 

2 weeks ago we had pictures taken of the kids by this great artist, also an adoptive mom who is the parent of Precious' prom date...maybe.  He'll have to prove himself, of course.  Enjoy the pics.  Our photographer gave us permission to share her site.

Tonight I'm in that melancholy place where I can be silly, serious or other...I have so many voices I can pick from that it may just be best to share the pictures for now.

Precious is still scrambling around on the floor, at 10pm, so the contemplative voice is not available.  I'm still required to keep her alive and keep choking hazzards away from her. I type, I check, I type, I check on her...I pull a dog bone out of her hand...I type...

Here are some things I am wondering about:

1.  Why someone would think our house should be on a tour of homes fundraiser.
2.  Why Roger would laugh out loud when I mentioned it.
3.  Why my heart longs to adopt every needy child in the world, yet I can't wait for the 4 I have to go to bed at night.
4.  Why my 6-year old loves bible camp and my 8-year old refuses to go.
5.  Why my 10-year old is worried about her body but not worried about the wrath of mom when she doesn't do her chores.  "Claire, you need a bath."  "mom, I showered at the pool.  I don't want to take a bath tonight.  I'm tired and want to relax."  Sigh.  "OK Claire, I'm tired of arguing with you every day about a bath.  Do whatever you want.  Stay stinky, its your body."  "See mom, that's why you have trouble disciplining us.  When I argue you just give in."   Sigh.  Sigh.  Sigh.  Don't hyperventilate, Niki, just walk away.
6.  Why I long for time in the Word and in prayer and why I can't seem to get there.
7.  Why the baby can't sleep at night.
8.  Why life often hurts but more often feels so good.
9.  Why my dear husband puts up with all my junk and still thinks I'm worth it.
10.  Why me and why not me, over and over and over.

I probably should have left the blog alone with Claire's beautiful eyes and a nice, safe post.  Can't do it.  I have my Precious Maryn asleep on my chest and its late and the house....is....quiet.  I have to say that I'm sad I did not get to post every blog I wrote in my mind this week.  There was so much good stuff to share.  I guess when I don't have access to my computer and I "blog in my head" it needs to just be prayer.  Sigh.

We had our (hopefully)last home study last night.  If all the paperwork generates effectively in July then we can do our legal stuff and get it all finalized.  If it takes more than 3 months we'll do another home study which is not painful, it just costs extra and reminds us that it isn't finalized and our dear baby is not legally "ours"...I dare anyone to challenge that on a heart level, though.

Today, thinking about fathers and the Fathers day holiday, gave me pause.  I know that Precious' birth father will not likely surface or interfere with our adoption.  Practically speaking, that is a relief.  It will allow our adoption finalization to go smoother.  At a visceral level, I am grieving.  I am sad that the man who helped give her life will not know her or love her or celebrate her the way we do.  Someday she and her daddy and I will have to sit together and cry and talk about that.  I love this child so much that part of me wishes that she could have just been born to intact parents who share her looks and her personality and that she could identify with her roots...so I'm sad for her.  Glad for us, because she is so amazing and so obviously intended for us and for our family.  She is like us, she is familiar and she is outstanding.  I'm just sad for her that even though she will celebrate Fathers Day with her wonderful adoptive father, and her heavenly father, she will eventually know that her birth father rejected her.   It hurts.

I choose to forgive him tonight.  I hope that she can as well.

This is Father's Day Weekend. We have had a crazy busy week and I could chronicle it and those who regularly read my blog would say, "yes, that sounds about right for her life"...the key point is that I did my best to savor and enjoy it and I survived it. I didn't get my nose in the bible much but I felt God walking each step with me and it is now the weekend and I am so glad. We have a big, old, child-friendly home and this week there were many, many kids through it. We went through alot of food and hopefully blessed each one who played, snacked and shared life here. Seriously, like, 10 or more extra kids from one day to the next. Anyway!

Each of us who lives and breathes have had a father. For some, this is a hard holiday to celebrate. For some, it is easy to buy a card or a gift, give a hug, sing praises to their dad for the wonderful part he played in their lives. My kids have a great dad. Claire has her father's eyes. Spiritually, I want my Lord's eyes, my Father's eyes. I want to see what He sees and let that be the window to my soul. With that comes suffering and sacrifice and often scoffing from others. Oh well. Lord, let me desire what you desire. Give me your desires and your eyes to see what you see and feel what moves your heart. It won't often feel good and many will be disgusted with that. You, my Father, mean more to me than the ways of man. I want my Father's eyes.

This lady was one of my speakers at the health conference last week.  Enjoy!

Up Time America by Kimberly Alyn

Psalm 145: 6-11
They will tell of the power of your awesome works, and I will proclaim your great deeds.  They will celebrate your abundant goodness and joyfully sing of your righteousness.   The Lord is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love.  The Lord is good to all, he has compassion on all he has made.  All you have made will praise you, O Lord; your saints will extol you.  They will tell of the glory of your kingdom and speak of your might."


God's power is in His awesome works, in sparing us from the punishment we deserve, by sending his only Son to die.  God's great deeds are the miracles He displays over and over again.  Throughout the bible and throughout the world even today, He is doing miracles and great deeds.  God's abundant goodness shows in my full fridge and my full heart and my full work week, layed out before me.  The Lord, not me, is gracious and compassionate, He, not me, is slow to anger and He, not me, is rich in love.  Oh Lord, make me that way.  Pour out more of who you are over me so that I can also be gracious, compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love.

 Make me Holy, Lord, to honor you.  You are good to all.  I am not.  Let me live a life of love as you do, and show love every day, to every one.  I want to be your saint who extols you.  Let this humble offering of words extol you, even in this late hour.  I want to go to bed thinking of the glory of your kingdom and wake up speaking of your might.  Let this psalm soak into my skin as I rest tonight, Lord.  The week is coming.  Jeremiah is sick and I have to reschedule my visits and I feel the pull of the worldly stuff and I am just resisting it tonight, digging in my heels, trying to make sense of your Psalm 145 as I fight to keep my strongest footing in the heavenly realm and not the earthly one. 

Be Holy. Psalm 145

"I will exalt you, my God the King; I will praise your name for ever and ever.  Every day I will praise you and extol your name for ever and ever.  Great is the Lord and most worthy of praise; his greatness no one can fathom.  One generation will commend your works to another, they will tell of your mighty acts.  They will speak of the glorious splendor of your majesty and I will meditate on your wonderful works.  "Psalm 145:1-5

One way to praise and extol God's name for ever and ever is to not lose the tradition of praying before meals.  We all need to eat. 

The boys and I noted the greatness of God the other night.  We were at a local camp site, getting ready to have some pictures taken(I'll post them when I have them...so excited!).  Claire was on her way after a ball game and we had beat the photographer so we were messing around.  Both boys picked up a handful of sand and almost simultaneously, began to speak of how great God was that he knew the number of grains of sand.  They were blown away by that.  They both had the awareness and the awe immediately.  The Spirit must have just shown down on them both as they reached their grubby little hands down to grab sand.  It was a holy moment.  So we talked about the greatness of God.  Jeremiah spoke about how God made trees and Isaac mentioned that they are always beautiful, even when they are different or broken inside.  One generation did commend God's works to another, but it was not the parent teaching the child.  I was in awe of the knowledge and worship of God I saw right before me, in my two little boys, just 6 and 8.  So I am speaking of God's glorious splendor and majesty now and I will meditate on His wonderful works, through my children today. 

I choose to be Holy.

I swing because I'm happy. I swing because I'm free. Oh His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me!

My conference was really good.  I learned some new things, I laughed some, I shed a few tears.  The keynote speaker was Amy Rolfs from Little People Big World.  She was wonderful to watch and hear.  My take-away from her speach was to be ready to adapt to whatever environment I am in rather than to expect the setting to adapt to my needs.  Once again, as always, its not about me.  Sigh.

Precious was thrilled to see me after about 36 hours away.  She flashed me a new smile with her second top front tooth popped through!  Then she got on all fours and inch-wormed/crawled to me.  She's on the move.  It was inevitable.  World:  watch out...she's comin!

Nana Barb survived a very long night with P's famous restlessness, peeing through sheets, the dog freaking out in a thunderstorm....and Nana is now home with her wonderful husband likely enjoying dinner out or margaritas in.  I hope I never have to live somewhere my mom is not. 

The Prevacid does not seem to be making a dent in her contentment or comfort.  I opened the can of Elecare.  If it works, I'm gonna have to tweek the budget to make room for this formula that is over $40.00 a can.  God did not bring this child to us expecting us to fall short of her needs.  God heard my prayers, spared her life, made the path straight and delivered her home to our family on angels' wings.  God knew what she would need and why she would be a good member of our family.  God ordained the order of this thing and so we will figure it out.  I think he could care less how much her formula costs.  He just smiles down from heaven and nods his head when his forty-something children crawl around on their bellies cheering and squealing as this blessed baby girl learns to crawl. 

Tomorrow morning I'm going to a 2 day nursing conference an hour away.  I am so ready to just sit still for 2 days and soak in some fresh humor, inspiration and information.  I am ready to take just my bag in and out of the car without the bulky work stuff or the diaper bag or the stroller or the ball gloves.  The conference is near my parents home, on a lake where they live year-round.  I am ready to sit at the end of my parents' dock at about 6pm and listen to birds and frogs and boat motors on the lake.  Alone.  Lord, let it not rain if just for an hour or 2!  I'm ready for a solitary walk in the evening or the morning before conference day 2.  There is a great walking route I have when I am there and it is scenic and tranquil and very reverent for prayers.  Lord, let it not rain then either!  I am looking forward to finishing my book, the Tangible Kingdom since I doubt my parents will interrupt my reading time the way life at home does....oh if it was a week instead of 36 hours, how great would that be! 

I will gratefully accept the 36 hours I get and lift up prayers for my mom who is holding down the fort in my absence.  Dad is busy with other commitments and can't be around with the kids so Nana is gonna eat her wheaties...or wheat germ or whatever grandmas eat for breakfast and be here by 7:30am when dad goes to work.  She will juggle basketball camp, breakfast, lunch, snack after snack after snack, dinner, more snacks, violin lesson, softball game, bedtime medicine and nighttime parenting.  She will handle the big dog who pees in the house if no one notices her cues to go out.  She will likely break up fights, deflect tattle-tailing and very rarely put Precious down because she, like me, cannot stand to hear her fuss. 

By the way, Precious is now starting to crawl and inchworm around the room.  By the way way...there are legos and dog hair and dirty socks everywhere.  Oh my. 

Our dance season has ended and on sunday we were all just tired from so much excitement with the final week of school, programs, a town celebration, the dance recitals...apparently it's exhausting to usher in summer!  Who knew?  I am often asked, "how are you" and I hesitate because, quite frankly, I'm busy.  But I don't want to be "busy" or to say I"m "busy".  Busy is not Holy.  Busy is not God-seeking.  Busy is not what I want to be.  So how does that work when I'm "busy" because Holy God gave me great kids who want to participate in things and a job that allows me to walk alongside people, sometimes as the only positive voice in their lives...

Here's my new approach.  Go ahead and laugh...its how I do things.  I am not busy.  I am pressed for time when I am trying to get to the next event.  Once there, I am relaxed and living in the moment.  Once I get to where I am going, I heretofore have decided to not be "busy" but to be present.  I choose to see  life before me, to hear the birds and the children laughing and the people visiting at ball games, to sing praises in the car or to pray as I travel around, to show gratitude to God when I am shopping, cooking, cleaning because it is by His divine provision that I get to do these things for my family.  I'm jumping into living and I'm not gonna call it busy.  So there.

I took Precious to the pediatric GI doc yesterday.  He suspects reflux and a food/milk allergy (no news flash there....I just wanted the confirmation and some meds to try) and we are starting her on a trial med for a week to see if it calms down her stomach enough for her to rest better and eat better.  If we see no improvement in a week we will know she does not have reflux and then we have to switch from our generic stinky soy formula to a very expensive one....so time and prayer will tell.  She's doing just fine developmentally and in the 50 and 75% for weight and length...so its not having any harmful effects on her, we would just love more sleep and a better eating schedule. 

My new word from God to "Be Holy, be humble, be helping" continues to bless me and to be the measuring stick for my days.  I'm also learning that being Holy is more about being positioned rightly before God and not so much about my good deeds or my ability to appear Holy.  Its a vertical view and not a horizontal one.  Its as if the Lord is whispering to me throughout my day, "Daughter of Zion, look up".  Help me to look up, God, to see the wide open sky and your vast greatness and to hear the quiet whisper in the wind.  Help me to look up to seek you and not to worry so much about what is happening hear on earth.  I want eyes for Heaven, Lord.  Help me to clearly see you and your desires for me and to look up.  Lord, allign my desires with yours so that we want the same things.  Amen.

dance

If the ten-year old girl that still lives inside of me could, she would go to weekly dance classes.  She would wear beautiful costumes and learn routines to really fun music.  She would go to performances and competitions and she would dance.  She would know what it feels like to move with grace and beauty and to have an audience applaud her under spotlights.  She would know that moving is living and dancing is an appropriate response to music.  She would glory in the music and the art of it all and she would feel so, so proud to be able to express life this way.

We have to express life.  Maybe its through dancing or music or writing or painting, or singing or something else...there is just so much that cannot be put into words and schedules and shopping and calenders.  There are these moments, these Holy moments that matter.  The yuck and the sin and the disappointments will always be there, this side of Heaven, but there is also the art of living.  I watched a beautiful mom play with her small daughter tonight in the dressing room, as she waited for the recital to finish.  No one else seemed to notice but I did.  They wrote on the chalk board, she kissed her little one's cheek.  She was present in the moment with her child so that this little girl would not get sad or bored.  It was a mommy- daughter dance and it mattered.  To me. 

I embraced another mom as she celebrated and grieved her dancer graduating from high school and leaving the nest.  We cried together back stage.  I know this day will come for me as well, and it will come as soon as I say "blink".  Art doesn't have to be happy to be meaningful and beautiful.  Life.

Dance is crazy-expensive and very unnecessary.  But for me, maybe it is more necessary.  I don't want to just flip the calender, buy the next size shoes for my kids, schedule the next week of stuff....

About a year ago Roger helped me put a counter on my blog page so I would know how many times someone checks it.  It also counts me and truthfully, some days I check it often just because I love the music and the pictures.  The counter reads over 19,000 today so that means that in a year, roughly 19,000 checked it out.  Pretty cool.  With this realization comes the knowledge that I need to write meaningful, relevant and authentic information.  I apologize ahead of time for the posts that don't measure up.  Often, I am posting late at night or early in the morning when I have time to breathe and worship and see what matters in the day.  If I'm crabby, it shows. 

Our first recital went well tonight and I just have to say it.  My daughter is a beautiful dancer.  When I was 10 I only dreamed of moving as she does.  I got to sit and watch tonight and tomorrow I'll be back stage to help.  So far, the mommy-daughter attitudes are just fine.  I'm so grateful to have grandparents around to help navigate children and timing and meals...I wish the grands could stay forever! 

We have all noticed a change in Precious Maryn.  I can't articulate exactly what it is, but there is peace and contentment and health within her that wasnt there before.  This is likely due to the fact that we are seeing a pediatric GI specialist monday...and for all likely purposes, she seems fine now.  We'll keep the appointment anyway and just talk over the soy issues, lack of sleep, etc.  I am just enjoying this healthier, more pleasant, less demanding version of our daughter, for what ever reason.  

Thank you Lord for your blessings, for your answers to prayer, for your interest in our lives.  Thank you most of all tonight for our children.  Wow.  Our children are amazing and you made them that way.  Thank you. 

Tomorrow we anticipate the last day of school, finally, and the official welcome of summer vacation here.  We also are excited for the dance recital that will occur all weekend and the family is coming out to support Claire.  We had dress rehearsal tonight and it was good.  I have to say, though, that I took a stand with my beautiful young daughter and told her that even if she is tired, hot, over-whelmed and hungry, it is not ok to snap at mom or to be disrespectful.  I threatened to leave the back-stage mom duty and furthermore, to not let her dance next year.  Seriously, its just not ok to let your 10 year old child get lippy. 

I am trying hard to live these busy days artistically and with great appreciation for the grandeur of it all.  I mean it.  Every moment is a picture, a song, a poem.  Put on different lenses if you must, but find the ability to view it this way.  Even the unattractive scenes are art.  This morning I went through all of the dance costumes to make sure we had everything.  I discovered we were missing a sparkling pink sneaker (don't ask) and after scouring the premises I decided to retrace Claire's path.  You see, last night, she wasn't able to call for a ride home and had to walk home as twilight gave way to darkness and she was sad and scared and frustrated....I was reading a bedtime book to the boys, the baby was asleep on Grandma Kredit's lap and dad was at golf or school board or something.  So Claire walked home very upset....and today I was minus a pink shoe.  Grandma began to pray that the shoe would be found.  I replaced my plan to do billable charting and got out my bicycle to ride the streets of town and look for the sneaker.  It was at the theater, on the stage.  So what's the art?  Soothing my big girl on my lap as I comforted her, prayed over her, reassured and praised her for solving her own problem last night?  The prayers of a grandma that a lost costume piece would turn up?  A 42 year old mom in a skirt on a bike, scanning the roads for a bit of sparkle....its all art, people.  Art is for expresion and enjoyment.  So is life. 

Its not fair to feel contemplative at 5pm when there is still so much day to do.  Its not fair to want to reflect and savor and enjoy and mull over my day when there is a good 5-6 hours left that I need to be present in.  Sigh. 

I had a small break for an hour or so and got on my blogging bunny trail and I am just moved by the words, the photos, the art of living that is expressed in the lives that I am woven through.  Thank you, everyone, who walks the path with me.  Is it possible to live artistically?  I hope so.

Today, my dear friends helped me provide a humble, hog-pog birthday blessing to a little girl who turned 4.  We had cake and gifts and crafts at 10am and it was so rich in the art of living that I feel like it was my birthday!  I did 6 home visits and each family is unique in its gifts, its blessings and its burdens and I got to see it with fresh eyes today.  I don't know why, but God gave me new lenses today that are so artsy and grateful and filled with pleasure.  Guess I'm livin' right.

Ok, break is done.  Time to engage in supper, ball, dance, etc.  More to come, I'm sure!

Last night I was invited by my husband to attend a dinner that honored our school's teachers/staff/board members.  This is his last year on the board so he organized the meal which was another home run from our local Italian chef friend.  Yum and wow and holy cow! 

I was moved to tears by the love in the room as the school faculty said good-bye to several teachers who will not return next year.  Many commented that when they walk the halls of our school they hear singing in the classrooms and I, too, have said that so often.  Hearing children's voices raised in psalms of praise is so rare...and to have it happen in the classroom in this stage of history is just like the pearl in the shell in the ocean.  Everytime I am in the school and hear the kids singing or reciting scripture, I get goose bumps.  These kids are in training.  Big time.  Their beautiful, loving, gentle, organized teachers with their warm hugs and weekly newsletters are the gunny sargeants and the officers and the troop commanders.  These kids are being prepared, not just to live and work among us in the world, but also to do spiritual battle, to use the bible as a Sword, to put on the full armor of Christ and to gain ground for God every day. 

We only have a couple school days left and I am moved to prayer for our teachers and for our children and for the next generation, rising up, to follow God's plan and not the plan of the world.  Lord God, help us to keep our eyes on the prize of your glory.  Help us to have wisdom and patience and to teach this next generation all you need them to do to live their lives to your honor and praise.  Thank you for our schools, our teachers, both public and private, who exhaust every resource they posess to lift up our kids and to teach them every day.  Be present in our schools, God.  Speak through the leadership and the study books and the hugs. 

Help us as parents, Lord.  Help us to take on the promotion of being the gunny sargeant, the general, the officer, the command leader in our children's lives.  Help us to know how to train our kids for spiritual battle, for life battle so that they may live as christians in a very secular world.  Give us what we need of to make the way for this next generation, Lord.  I know you have your eyes on them in a big way.  Thank you Abba Father, for having your eyes on me.  Amen.