Evening and Morning

I am definitely losing it.  No, I never had it.  My cousin once said that servitude didn't suit her, and I can totally relate.  I'm reading Ann Voskamp's book 1000 gifts, and I am at the part that explains that God keeps filling us when we pour ourselves out.  I have to admit, I don't believe it.  There it is bold faced lack of belief.

Joy cometh in the morning.  I wrote this post late last night, but was interrupted by the need to drive a couple of kids to a friend's house and run to the store to get ingredients to make a birthday cake for today.  This morning I was reading Isaiah and ran across this:  If you will  not believe, surely you shall not be established." Isaiah 7:9.  I know this in my head, I do.  I know that I am dry bones apart from the Spirit of God.  My prayer is that God will blow life into these dry bones, and that they will rise up and bless Him.  I can not raise them up by any strength of my own.  I am thankful for one more day, one more try at belief.

I go to bed tired, wake up tired, several times a night, make breakfast tired, take kids to swimming lessons tired, come home to hungry faces tired.  I feel badly.  I know it isn't their fault they are so needy, they just are.  Nesradine can eat a mountain of food, and it makes me tired making ten sandwiches for lunch and a pot of macaroni that would feed most day cares.  Do I believe that God can fill up someone as empty as me?  Not tonight I don't.

I know that my children hate to come out and ask me for one more thing.  One more glass of water.  Just one, for them, and one for their sister, and one for the neighbor that dropped by, and wait... There is the phone.  I know it isn't for me, and if it is I will be interrupted at least three times while I am trying to have a conversation, and if I choose not to answer it, they answer it for me.  They will say, of course she isn't busy.  She is just making lunch for nine children, deciding who needs to be where in the next hour and what color she wants to paint the dining room, but sure, she can chat.  Really, I would love to chat.  I would love to walk out the door get in my car and meet you at Bucers, but the hungry faces would still be there when I got home.  In fact they would call while I was out and ask what there is to eat.  Does God ever fill them up?

I know I should be rejoicing in the ordinary life I lead.  I know I should be thankful for ten more opportunities to die to myself and live for others.  Death is exhausting.  I am worn out with this death I am dieing, when will it just be done, and I can rest?  Why has God blessed me with so much stamina?

I was dreaming up a blog post about what God is teaching me by giving me this teaming household.  How I would have thought myself a pretty awesome mom, back when I had just four.  God knew my evil heart and gave me five more blessing to contend with.  Enough of your blessings God!  I am drowning in blessedness.  My cup runneth over and is staining my shirt.  What a mess God is making out of my perfect life!  I could have been really hip, slick, and cool.  Of course, as my Dad likes to remind me, I wouldn't have known how good I had it.  So here I am, blessing abounding all over my house.  Running through the neighborhood, some of them quite quickly, meeting all of the neighbors.  They have so many friends I may go broke trying to get them to all of their houses.  They are healthy and thriving, therefore we can play more sports than some teams.  They are hard workers, which means more driving them to jobs.  God just keeps blessing me with work.

So today I gave the four that were stuck in the car with me a big old lecture on being grateful for the gifts people see fit to give.  I wanted to bless the kids with a jammie ride, but I got a whole lot of renegotiation on that one.  By the time we reached a settlement I was not feeling liking blessing anyone.  This is why I am glad that God is God and I am not.  I would be a hellish tyrant, and you can just ask my kids how that all goes.  I have led them in the art of being an awful gift receiver.  I want what I want when I want it, and if I can't have that I would like nothing, thank you very much.  I can tell you that I am learning God does  not operate on those terms, Thank God!  He gives us what we need, no matter how our bottom lip pooches out.  He does not fall for our manipulative pouts, or whining.  He is faithful to our NEEDS not our fickle desires.  So here I am ranting about my awful, busy life, while my 12 year old throws scraps of paper around the corner at me so that I will watch her silly show.  Yes God, I will accept this gift.  Thank You for silly teenage girls and all of their creativity.

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Husbands who wear black socks with Birkenstocks and shorts, WOW!

Late night movie invites, that is what summer is all about right?

Madie braiding Martha's hair.

Birthday gifts that have to wait to be opened, even though they cause pouting.  She is going to LOVE them.

Jammie rides that aren't, it is the thought that counts.

Neighbor boys who let my children play with their dogs.

Tired husbands that clean the kitchen for me anyway.

Grocery stores open long after all eating should have stopped.

Neighbors returning straying cats.

Phones that don't record silly songs by Brony, saving her the embarrassment of having it posted here.

Paint, adding color to our lives.

Birthdays, all the expectation and excitement that comes with them.

Another year older, wiser, and more settled in our family.

Waking from the dead every morning to find another day of life.

Great health.

Lungs that suck in all kinds of air, and blow out CO2, without any kind of thinking on my  part.