Losing Heart...

“We do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed, day by day” 2 Corinthians 4:16.


You don’t have to be very old to understand just how quickly our “outer nature is wasting away.” I wasn’t even thirty when I looked at my hands one day and saw my mother’s hands. Lines, wrinkles, the whole bit.

It’s a little harder to see what’s going on inside. Day by day, moment by moment, we’re supposed to be growing spiritually. While the outside “goes to pot,” the inside is being polished and refined.

God gives us countless opportunities every day to grow our inner natures: sitting in traffic, cleaning up someone else’s mess, dealing with a child’s disappointing attitude. We can either ask for patience and perseverance - trusting God will deliver - or let our circumstances get the better of us. We all have things that eat away at our sense of peace and seem to block any kind of spiritual transformation. Do not lose heart; God provides a way out of every temptation and blesses us with real spiritual growth when we stand up to the test.

MIA

We've been missing in action for a bit, but today we really were at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts. We had a private tour with our very own Nana, who just happens to be a docent at the reputable museum.

Some highlights included Picasso's Baboon and Young and Van Gogh's Olive Trees.

Filling in the Blanks

Not too happy about the library's summer reading program. Not that I have a choice. We made our weekly stop at the library and got bulldozed with brochures and charts and bookmarks, just for walking in the door. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for encouraging kids to read; I just don't like attaching stickers and prizes and all sorts of doo-dads to an act that's enjoyable in and of itself.

But that's not even my biggest beef. My oldest and charts do not do well together. She is very - how shall I say it - particular. If she's got a chart, it's got to be filled in. There's none of this, one mark for every fifteen minutes business. Must fill in every mark, right NOW! Immediately after we returned home, she vanished for just shy of two hours to "get this thing filled in."

She came back, having read the fine print, and said, "Mom, if you fill this whole chart in you get to be a librarian." I wasn't convinced. "Really, where does it say that?" She pointed to her proof: "When you've completed 32 hours of reading, turn it in to the librarian."

Having never been to school, she doesn't quite get the "turning things in" concept. I'll let the friendly librarian explain that one to her.

Birth Announcement

Not for us, for them! Derek and Odette's babies have arrived. We discovered them yesterday, but we're not sure if they were born then or the day before. Apparently, it only takes finches about two and a half weeks from the building of the nest to the hatching of the babes. Not bad, if you ask me.

I've never been one to find the sight of baby birds - how shall I say this - appealing. I know, I know... they are a part of God's wonderful creation. But there's just something rather unseemly about them. Of course I've never voiced this rather unorthodox opinion (until now).

Apparently, I'm not alone. Upon seeing them for the first time, my oldest said, "They're actually kind of ugly. Is it okay to say that?"

Kids say the darndest things. Or at least the things the rest of us don't want to say out loud.

We've Got A Project!

Bless the Lord, O my soul! I actually completed my first sewing project on my brand new Janome machine... A gift, I might add, from my dear husband on the occasion of our newest little guy's birth. (He always wants to get jewelry; I always opt for the fun and practical -- last time it was a KitchenAid Mixer!)

If you could actually see the seams, I wouldn't be posting a picture. My own personal placemat and napkin set. Just setting them out for morning coffee makes me smile!

The Great Conversation

One of the goals of a classical education is the ability to enter into the Great Conversation -- to be versant in the ideas, events, and people that have shaped civilisation. That's the theory at least.

Here's the practice: My four year old daughter came bounding into the kitchen today, with a sprig of grapes dangling from the side of her head. As if it was obvious to all, she said, "I'm the god of wine, Dionysus." And off she trotted again.

Ah, yes, the Great Conversation...

Going for the Gold

“And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him” Colossians 3:17.

Back in the glory days, I swung for the fences. That paid off in high school; I made the All State team. But in college – with some faster and better pitchers – swinging for the fences quite often meant striking out. I only played college ball one year, partly because of hockey, but mostly because my ‘all or nothing’ attitude at the plate was not paying off.

It’s easy to go for the gold when the stakes are high. When you’ve got a performance to put on, a presentation to give, a race to run. In other words, when others are watching. But when the task at hand is a little more modest – like making dinner, taking care of the children, or cleaning the house – we don’t always give it our best shot. We don’t swing for the fences when there are no cheering fans.

God wants us to put it all on the line all the time. He wants everything we do, to be in his name, for his glory. Even the most mundane tasks take on new meaning when you know you’re doing it all for the Lord.

Where Credit is Due

The girls and I were sculpting bricks for Toddzilla to use with his scooper, so I thought I'd remind the children that the Egyptians used these same techniques when they were making the pyramids.

My six year old daughter quickly corrected, "Actually, the Hebrews did all the work."

Nothing like giving credit where credit is due!

Woman! I can't do it!

So shouted my frustrated two year old at the lady talking to him through the computer speaker(not at his mother, thank you very much). She wanted him to hit a key -- any key -- and he was not gon' do it. My children have never liked toys that "talk." My oldest daughter had a Leap Pad Plus Writing when she was about four. She would use it for about five minutes before yelling, "Stop talking to me!"

They may have inherited this from me. I can't stand automated voices over the phone. I go crazy when the lady on our voice mail at church keeps asking "would you like to do anything else?" (Please note: this is a canned voice from a answering company, NOT a nice little old lady volunteering her time at the church.)

My best friend growing up had a talking car. I'll never forget when it shorted and kept saying, "Your door is ajar. Please close it. Your door is ajar. Please close it. Your door..."

"Woman! I can't do it!"
You tell her, little guy.