Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Nativity Creativity

Free toys make me happy.  Open-ended toys make me even happier.  Hence, we have a box of scrap wood in the backyard.
These pieces of junk wood have been many things: ramps for hot wheels, forts, guns for battling aliens, swords for slaying bad guys.  Creativity blossoms when toys come without instructions or "right" ways to play with them.
This holiday season my girls proudly brought me outside to see their latest artwork.  One glance and I ran back inside to get the camera.

Here we have a Nativity scene complete with parents, shepherds, and three wise guys.  I ooed and awed.  The girls beamed.

But there was more.  Over by the swings were three crosses.  They told me this was the reason that Jesus was born.
The three year old imparting wisdom.  Stories of truth from the lips of the five year old.
Words from God's Word swirl in my head " not forget the thing your eyes have seen or let them slip from your heart as long as you live.  Teach them to your children and to their children after them."

And at the foot of the slide were these.  Their two great-grandmothers, Mammaw and Nana, in Heaven with God.  These ladies whose names are part of our girls.  Estelle.  Marie.
I was a bit teary until they showed me God on top of the slide - a giant teapot with two balls inside.  Man, I love these kids.
News Update to follow.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Messy and Blessed

I have come to find that no matter how much I love my job, there are still those days.  You know, the ones that make you want to rip off all your clothes and run down the street screaming?
When I worked outside our home, those days reached dizzying proportions.  Now that I am home, they are honestly very few and far between.  But, I must admit, every so often they do occur.
Instead of going stark raving mad, I choose to remember these moments. 
Children writing notes to missionaries.  My girls, their cousins, and their friends learning about loving and serving and being like Jesus, not Justin Beiber.

Living by no certain schedule. Or scope. Or sequence. One that allows us to go outside to feel the sun on our skin as we learn about the heat that it generates.

Being the one that knows what my children have going on in their lives.  Knowing what is newsworthy to them.
This was not always my life.  I thought I never wanted to be a stay-at-home mom.  In fact, I used to snobbishly look down on those women - as if they had somehow sold themselves short.
But it slowly dawned on me that deep in my bones, this is the life I wanted.  This life of loving and raising my children.  Seeing them wake up.  Teaching them to read.  Showing them how to love God and others.  Putting them to bed at night without regrets about missing their childhood.
Is my life perfect now?  By no means.  It is hard and fun.  Frustrating and delightful.
It is beautiful.  It is blessed. 
It is beautiful, because I choose to acknowledge that it is blessed.
All praises be to my God who deeply loves this messy girl's messy life.