All I really want right now is an apple. Just a simple, shiny, crunchy apple. Fuji. Or Gala. Or Pink Lady. Even Golden Delicious. I don’t really care, so long as it has a core, a peeling and is roundish.
I thought I’d been grumpy all day long. Hardly felt like myself, I was so exhausted, and weaker than the third brewing of an herbal tea bag. “Was I grumpy?” I quizzed Josiah, as I washed dishes from a jug of water. After supper the well again went on strike. “What? Grumpy?” he looked at me funny. “Just a little quiet maybe.” As queen of the roost for the day, I tried to keep all three of my charges occupied profitably. Lizzy’s not hard to entertain. I handed her “Rachel’s Tears” and zipped around the house, marking things off Mom’s list as I went. Well, actually, I tried to zip, but my feet felt as if they’d discovered a quagmire and decided to stay and search it to the bottom.
(Overheard from the dining/school room)
Lydia: Spell “famous.”
Josiah: A-B-I-G-A-I-L
They told me it was humid down here. I don’t remember who “they” were, but they were right. Chainsaw in hand, Josiah attacked the enormous tree that last lightning storm had shattered, while the rest of us tugged branches, piled logs and tried to keep out of the way of falling limbs. Soon I’d stripped my sweatshirt off and tied it around my waist. In a flash, Lizzy’d followed my example. Still feeling like a head of broccoli in a pressure steamer, I rolled my sleeves up to my shoulders and glanced up to see Lizzy doing the same. “Stand back—way back!” Josiah called, walking up a huge branch that had knelt to the ground and beginning to saw. I stepped into the shade, hands on hips and noticed that Lizzy had assumed an identical posture. I crossed my arms in front of me. A second passed and she did the same. I shoved my hands in my pockets. Soon hers had found her pockets as well. I peeked at her from the corner of my eye to see if she was imitating me on purpose. To be funny. She was watching me intently, as usual, but slyness doesn’t fit her sense of humor. With a shrug, I tugged off my green leather gloves and laid them across the handle of the wheelbarrow. As if it had just occurred to her, she pulled her pink pair off and laid them next to mine. I flopped down on the ground and she flopped down next to me. And then I scratched my nose. Just to see what she’d do. She reached her hand up and scratched her own before a confused look crossed her face and she quickly dropped her hand. That’s when I looked away to hide my smile. And that’s when I missed the excitement. “Oh!” Lydia exclaimed and I turned in time to see Josiah leap off the branch bridge he’d climbed, chainsaw still in tow, and land barely out of reach of the branch that had just crashed to the ground. With his monkey feet and spider instincts, he’s never managed to wind up hurt. Yet. Maybe it’s Someone looking out for him.
Zach must be trying to redeem his “prodigal” status. “I’m too tired to go to Wes and Audrey’s,” he told us. “Can I come spend the night?” “John A’s going to be the next Martin Luther!” he exclaimed for the fiftieth time. “I’m telling you, he’ll reform the church!” Then he turned glum. “If that’s possible.” While I played piano, Zach preached about corruption in the church, in the Bible Belt and in Arkansas, where everyone names the name of Christ, but no one abstains from wickedness. It was almost like our own big tent revival. When he quoted William Booth, that prophet from the last century, he really caught my attention. “I consider that the chief dangers which confront the coming century will be religion without the Holy Ghost, Christianity without Christ, forgiveness without repentance, salvation without regeneration, politics without God, and heaven without hell.” I wish his prediction were not so accurate. “I don’t do Christianity because there are too many hypocrites in the church,” I’ve heard countless times. Usually I mumble something about not imposing the character of “Christians” on Christ. Yesterday my heart was burning, frustrated to think that “Christians” might be keeping the world from Christ. “The hypocrites are headed to hell,” I blurted out. “Do you want to spend eternity with them?” I couldn’t believe I’d said it straight out, but relief flooded over me as I realized I’d finally told the truth. I’ve always been afraid to condemn, to point the finger, to admit that those who don’t live for Jesus don’t live in Him either. How can I even begin to speak of others when my heart is so far from staid on Him? But my fault is not in pretending Christ when I don’t love Him. My fault is not loving Him by preaching His truth—to those who are pretending. I wonder what Jesus thinks of His bride?
Lord, Thy bride is so divided,
She’s taken grace that Thou provided
Turned it into chance for lust,
Forgotten what it means to trust,
Counterfeit the way to heaven,
Mixed Thy holy bread with leaven—
She’s grown not in Thy grace, but size,
Engorged on devastating lies.
Showing posts with label babysitting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label babysitting. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Usually when Josiah comes into my room, lugging his math book and an air of frustration, I can expect a trip to the upper attic of my intellect, where I’ve stowed away all I learned in Algebra, Trigonometry and PreCal. I know I’ve safely packed it up there, but sometimes I can’t ever find it. Today he flipped open his book and pointed to several calculator functions. “It comes out right when I do this one, but in this problem when I plug in thirty-five point forty-five…” “Ahem,” I cleared my throat. “You mean fifty-four?,” I offered. He did a double take and then mumbled, “Uh. Yeah. That helps.”
That was one brief success in a day of multitasking. No wonder Mom is always frustrated that she didn’t finish her to-do list by the end of the day. Trade secret for a productive day: make a short to-do list. She left me with a list long enough to wipe all the windows of the Empire State Building. I should be thankful, since that’s considerably shorter than a mile. In between baking enough food to satisfy a tapeworm, raking and burning piles of soggy leaves, mending, ironing, folding drawers full of drawers, vacuuming, sweeping and cleaning up after myself, I supervised Lydia and Josiah’s schoolwork. Overheard in the dining room as Josiah gave Lydia her spelling words:
Josiah: Spell “pull”.
Lydia: As in “pole” or “pull”?
Josiah: As in P-U-L-L.
Those who doubt that homemaking is a full-time job have never passed beyond a house to a home.
The heading in my Bible said it all: Idolatry Leads to Servitude. No doubt intended as a summary of the facts, but in reality, a rule of life. Forsake Yahweh, pursue other “gods” and the results are always the same: slavery to our own desires and passions. The choice to serve myself always leaves me enslaved to the most cruel mistress. But still, just like the Israelites, I enjoy rest for a time, but soon find I am back to bowing before the Baals, offering my allegiance to the lies and deceit of “self”. Only the Truth can set me free. This morning at breakfast we read of Jesus’ betrayal, arrest and trial and how he stood before Pilate and offered truth. Blinded by the chains of wealth, power and tyranny, Pilate demanded “What is truth?” but never waited for an answer. “I could release you,” Pilate offered, but he had it backwards. It was he who needed to be freed.
Lord, I press my ear against the door
And plead to serve Thee, evermore.
For I know well that as Thy slave,
I’ll find Thy freeing power to save.
When Thou art not my only master
Then my soul is in disaster:
When I love aught but Thee, I find
That loving aught but Thee will bind.
That was one brief success in a day of multitasking. No wonder Mom is always frustrated that she didn’t finish her to-do list by the end of the day. Trade secret for a productive day: make a short to-do list. She left me with a list long enough to wipe all the windows of the Empire State Building. I should be thankful, since that’s considerably shorter than a mile. In between baking enough food to satisfy a tapeworm, raking and burning piles of soggy leaves, mending, ironing, folding drawers full of drawers, vacuuming, sweeping and cleaning up after myself, I supervised Lydia and Josiah’s schoolwork. Overheard in the dining room as Josiah gave Lydia her spelling words:
Josiah: Spell “pull”.
Lydia: As in “pole” or “pull”?
Josiah: As in P-U-L-L.
Those who doubt that homemaking is a full-time job have never passed beyond a house to a home.
The heading in my Bible said it all: Idolatry Leads to Servitude. No doubt intended as a summary of the facts, but in reality, a rule of life. Forsake Yahweh, pursue other “gods” and the results are always the same: slavery to our own desires and passions. The choice to serve myself always leaves me enslaved to the most cruel mistress. But still, just like the Israelites, I enjoy rest for a time, but soon find I am back to bowing before the Baals, offering my allegiance to the lies and deceit of “self”. Only the Truth can set me free. This morning at breakfast we read of Jesus’ betrayal, arrest and trial and how he stood before Pilate and offered truth. Blinded by the chains of wealth, power and tyranny, Pilate demanded “What is truth?” but never waited for an answer. “I could release you,” Pilate offered, but he had it backwards. It was he who needed to be freed.
Lord, I press my ear against the door
And plead to serve Thee, evermore.
For I know well that as Thy slave,
I’ll find Thy freeing power to save.
When Thou art not my only master
Then my soul is in disaster:
When I love aught but Thee, I find
That loving aught but Thee will bind.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
My eyes and mind conspired together to deceive me. Somehow, through my haze of grogginess I thought the clock said six-thirty and clambered out of bed to go shower. Returned with soggy hair and poised to wake Jacinda, I discovered an interesting phenomenon. I’d gone back in time. It now said five-forty-five. Shivering, I gathered my Bible into my arms and spent the next hour and a half closeted in my warm, steamy bathroom, reading.
For all our earliness, and sitting-around-waiting to go-ness, we walked into Sunday School, at First Baptist, to find the rest of the college class completely immersed in First Timothy. From there we filled up a pew with Lindsey and her host family for the regular meeting. Halfway through announcements, with Brother Jeff sharing how the Lord was providing for Hall down in California he interrupted himself to announce, “Well, there’s Becki now!” Sure enough, there was Becki, trying to creep in unnoticed from the back door. “By the way,” Brother Jeff announced, as she made her way up the rows of curious eyes, “Becki and Hall are now engaged!” She finally gained her seat and cuddled in with Lindsey amidst a shower of applause.
Jacinda treated us all to spaghetti for lunch—at our house. She and Meagan came over, and pretty soon Zach showed up, too. When Taylor texted him asking if he could join us as well, I deferred my power of ruling adult and asked that he call Papa, who readily granted permission. After lunch we all crowded around to play “ImagineIff”. “ImagineIff Zach were a sports penalty…” we all dissolve in laughter that only grew louder when we reached the last option—which turned out to be the unanimous vote. He would be “excessive celebration”. “ImagineIff Taylor were a form of communication…if Lydia were a piece of furniture…if Josiah were a cartoon character…if Abigail were a donut…” and finally “Imagine if Jacinda were a room…she would be the kitchen.”
By midafternoon the sunshine had crawled under my skin beckoning me outside. Since everyone else played the wimp, complaining that it was too cold, I bundled myself up and ran full-speed down the woodland path and returned endowed with exuberance and energy. Daring the chill of my room, Jacinda and I vanished for the finishing touches to our “getting back in touch” and were still deep in conversation when Mom and Papa arrived home, signaling the end of the weekend.
I polished of Genesis today, finishing up with the inspiring life of Joseph. Each step along the way it seemed that something was going wrong. “Why do bad things happen to good people?” Joseph was a man of great understanding, and filled with God’s holy spirit and he answered the question eloquently. “You meant it for evil, but God meant it for good.” Ultimately, God knew exactly what was happening and had everything under control. The very thing Joseph’s brothers thought would put an end to his dream, brought about the fulfillment of it. And the very thing by which they caused their father the most grief turned out to work for the salvation of the lives of the whole family, as well as those of many across the whole world. God does not cause all things, but He causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him.
Lord, I see Thy mighty hand
Stretched out to bring about Thy plan.
That which seems our deepest woe
Thou can work to overthrow
Or Thou can work to use instead,
To give our souls and spirits bread
To save us from a worser fate
And show the world that Thou art great.
For all our earliness, and sitting-around-waiting to go-ness, we walked into Sunday School, at First Baptist, to find the rest of the college class completely immersed in First Timothy. From there we filled up a pew with Lindsey and her host family for the regular meeting. Halfway through announcements, with Brother Jeff sharing how the Lord was providing for Hall down in California he interrupted himself to announce, “Well, there’s Becki now!” Sure enough, there was Becki, trying to creep in unnoticed from the back door. “By the way,” Brother Jeff announced, as she made her way up the rows of curious eyes, “Becki and Hall are now engaged!” She finally gained her seat and cuddled in with Lindsey amidst a shower of applause.
Jacinda treated us all to spaghetti for lunch—at our house. She and Meagan came over, and pretty soon Zach showed up, too. When Taylor texted him asking if he could join us as well, I deferred my power of ruling adult and asked that he call Papa, who readily granted permission. After lunch we all crowded around to play “ImagineIff”. “ImagineIff Zach were a sports penalty…” we all dissolve in laughter that only grew louder when we reached the last option—which turned out to be the unanimous vote. He would be “excessive celebration”. “ImagineIff Taylor were a form of communication…if Lydia were a piece of furniture…if Josiah were a cartoon character…if Abigail were a donut…” and finally “Imagine if Jacinda were a room…she would be the kitchen.”
By midafternoon the sunshine had crawled under my skin beckoning me outside. Since everyone else played the wimp, complaining that it was too cold, I bundled myself up and ran full-speed down the woodland path and returned endowed with exuberance and energy. Daring the chill of my room, Jacinda and I vanished for the finishing touches to our “getting back in touch” and were still deep in conversation when Mom and Papa arrived home, signaling the end of the weekend.
I polished of Genesis today, finishing up with the inspiring life of Joseph. Each step along the way it seemed that something was going wrong. “Why do bad things happen to good people?” Joseph was a man of great understanding, and filled with God’s holy spirit and he answered the question eloquently. “You meant it for evil, but God meant it for good.” Ultimately, God knew exactly what was happening and had everything under control. The very thing Joseph’s brothers thought would put an end to his dream, brought about the fulfillment of it. And the very thing by which they caused their father the most grief turned out to work for the salvation of the lives of the whole family, as well as those of many across the whole world. God does not cause all things, but He causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him.
Lord, I see Thy mighty hand
Stretched out to bring about Thy plan.
That which seems our deepest woe
Thou can work to overthrow
Or Thou can work to use instead,
To give our souls and spirits bread
To save us from a worser fate
And show the world that Thou art great.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
I don’t make a habit of reading until nearly two o’clock. AM, that is. Last night I was like the person who ties up the guard dog so the mailman can visit and then is burglarized in the middle of the night because she forgot to untie it. Thanks to the ongoing hostility between the internet device and my alarm clock, I’d unplugged the latter and gone to bed timeless. Surprisingly, I bounced out of bed, feeling refreshed before seven and danced around the house getting breakfast and waking the kids.
Our favorite babysitter arrived around supper time. It’s a rare care when a twenty-year-old hires her own babysitter, but with me and Jacinda, it’s become a common occurrence. “I don’t care where we sleep,” she told me over the phone, “as long as it’s warm!” Easier said than done, but with Mom and Papa out of town, their cozy suite lay open before us—provided we kept the fireplace running. I started a fire shortly before she arrived and must admit to a great deal of excitement in the prospect of sleeping warmly.
We spent several hours jamming. Sometimes with Jacinda on piano, sometimes yours truly, sometimes both and sometimes I fooled around on my improvised snare while Josiah pounded out the real beat. To put it bluntly, Jacinda is a much better pianist than I am. And Josiah is a much better drummer.
Among the patriarchs I’ve been studying, I could distinguish definite points of salvation in the lives of Abraham and Jacob. In the lives of Isaac and Joseph, I see only consistency, it seems. Trust from early on. At first I was nearly disappointed, since I’d set my heart to discover the story of each one’s faith in God. But as I meditated on it longer, I found myself encouraged. In my own life I can place my finger on no one point where I decided to trust the Lord, except for a prayer I prayed when I was three. Mostly my life has been a slow building up to the present. I believe God. Isn’t that all that matters? The truth of this statement is clear in the book of Genesis—each of the patriarchs—Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph—believed God, as evidenced through their obedience to Him. Has the “plan” of salvation changed? Not at all. As it says elsewhere, God passed over the sins previously committed, reckoning righteousness through faith in Him and His promises. Jesus’ blood was atonement for all sins of all those who trust God. What about the poor heathen in Africa who has never heard the name of Jesus? Can he look around and see God’s creation? Does he recognize his helplessness? Can he cry out to the Creator for mercy? Then he can be saved. And when God introduces him to Jesus, he will fall on his face and worship him as the Son of God.
Lord, Thou changest not, I see
That humankind, the same as me
Are rescued from Thy righteous wrath
By choosing that one narrow path:
Submission to Thy will and word
Where’er the words of each are heard.
This path to blessed eternity,
Is only found by trusting Thee.
Our favorite babysitter arrived around supper time. It’s a rare care when a twenty-year-old hires her own babysitter, but with me and Jacinda, it’s become a common occurrence. “I don’t care where we sleep,” she told me over the phone, “as long as it’s warm!” Easier said than done, but with Mom and Papa out of town, their cozy suite lay open before us—provided we kept the fireplace running. I started a fire shortly before she arrived and must admit to a great deal of excitement in the prospect of sleeping warmly.
We spent several hours jamming. Sometimes with Jacinda on piano, sometimes yours truly, sometimes both and sometimes I fooled around on my improvised snare while Josiah pounded out the real beat. To put it bluntly, Jacinda is a much better pianist than I am. And Josiah is a much better drummer.
Among the patriarchs I’ve been studying, I could distinguish definite points of salvation in the lives of Abraham and Jacob. In the lives of Isaac and Joseph, I see only consistency, it seems. Trust from early on. At first I was nearly disappointed, since I’d set my heart to discover the story of each one’s faith in God. But as I meditated on it longer, I found myself encouraged. In my own life I can place my finger on no one point where I decided to trust the Lord, except for a prayer I prayed when I was three. Mostly my life has been a slow building up to the present. I believe God. Isn’t that all that matters? The truth of this statement is clear in the book of Genesis—each of the patriarchs—Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph—believed God, as evidenced through their obedience to Him. Has the “plan” of salvation changed? Not at all. As it says elsewhere, God passed over the sins previously committed, reckoning righteousness through faith in Him and His promises. Jesus’ blood was atonement for all sins of all those who trust God. What about the poor heathen in Africa who has never heard the name of Jesus? Can he look around and see God’s creation? Does he recognize his helplessness? Can he cry out to the Creator for mercy? Then he can be saved. And when God introduces him to Jesus, he will fall on his face and worship him as the Son of God.
Lord, Thou changest not, I see
That humankind, the same as me
Are rescued from Thy righteous wrath
By choosing that one narrow path:
Submission to Thy will and word
Where’er the words of each are heard.
This path to blessed eternity,
Is only found by trusting Thee.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
My room was transformed into a recording studio by Lauryn and Taylor today. She’d asked me to come with her to record again, and I’d explained how Papa likes to keep us nearby on Saturday, but offered our home. Which offer was accepted eagerly. We’ll see if the eagerness was amply rewarded. Those two are honestly the funniest pair ever: Lauryn so exuberant, bouncy, dizzy and perfectly adorable, Taylor so dry, deliberate, cautious and almost intimidating, both absolutely brilliant.
After a pleasant day of work (Lauryn makes the whole house smile), Papa and I mounted the motorcycle and went exploring through the backroads of D-town. Warmth, tranquility, beauty surrounded us everywhere, reflecting the emotions in my heart.
The little S kids welcomed me with open arms this afternoon when I arrived to babysit for the evening. Em is a little jewel, and JPl is always pleasant and affectionate. Those twins are as swiftly changing as highschool fads--just like most girls. S was precious, eager to obey my every request, anxious to apologize anytime she felt she had wronged me, gentle and kind to all. H was a study in contradictions: bad tempered, violent and rude—half of the time. The rest of the time she was very pleasant. Miss J wanted them kept up until she and Dr D got home, which proved to be nine o’clock, by which time we were all beginning to drag. While reading to them at one point, H stood up and kicked JP—for absolutely no reason. Immediately I quit reading, took her away a little ways, picked up a pillow and said, “Don’t kick people. If you want to kick, kick this.” She looked up at me, confused for a moment. “Start kicking,” I said, firmly, but quietly. The others were watching in mystified silence by this time. She began kicking, hard, quickly. “You can hit it, too,” I added. She punched as well. Even turned over and donkey kicked it. A few minutes later she had worn down and sat down smiling, sucking her thumb. “If you want to kick something,” I said, “You may kick the pillow.” I didn’t notice any more violence after that point. Somehow she must have had built up frustration or energy that she just needed to release. I don't think sitting still was the answer. Energy has to come out somehow.
Driving 164 home in the dark is exhilarating. The curves, the emptiness, the darkness—all the very things that probably make it dangerous, also make it delightful, somehow. Miss J sent me her phone, in case something should happen, and strict orders to call them when I reached home. There’s just something unique about feeling just the least bit scared and knowing that my God can take care of me. Perhaps it’s foolish, but He can.
Now, the trick is applying that to my spiritual life. Learning to be excited by the fact that I can only see a little ways ahead of me. Knowing that I should trust the Lord to illumine the path as I continue walking. And then walking ahead, taking each curve, one step at a time, knowing the Lord will guide and protect.
Lord, the darkness need not frighten
When I have Thy light hid within
Thou will strengthen and protect me
All my trust is safe placed in Thee.
Thou dost search the deepest cavern
In the darkness doth Thy truth burn
Thou descends to touch the mountain.
Him Thou planteth, none confound Him.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Miss Emily had her tonsils out yesterday, so I coaxed the Tempo into reverse, begged it into first and pleaded with it to make it to Caballo Ranch Road, where I proceeded to take charge of the twins and John Paul, as well as Mamaw and Papaw S, when they arrived. And I discovered the convenience of a spatula-rod-of-discipline stuck in my back pocket. Truly, I enjoyed myself. The children were quite well-behaved, and when they weren’t, a quick remedy was applied to the behind which soon restored them to cheerful obedience. It was one of the most extensive 40 hours of my life. And I loved every minute of it.
I’ve always wanted my own children, but used to be so afraid because I know the responsibility is so huge. And it still is. And I still am half afraid. But the rest of me longs so much for little ones to hold, and guide and train up in the way they should go. I used to be terrified that I would spank in anger, but I never once felt angry with the little Si. Nor even irritated. I truly did spank them for their own good. And they responded. After each spanking, they would cry “Mommy!” (which they call me half the time, anyway) and throw their arms around my neck, wanting to be hugged and forgiven.
Lord, my heart I thought to guard
Has proved a task so bitter hard
That I relinquish it to Thee.
A better guard I know Thou’ll be.
Stand a blameless sentinel
Before the door I know so well
That every dream or thought or plea
Must bear Thy holy scrutiny.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
After cleaning out the hot tub, adding the cleansers and bleaching the filters, I headed over to Dr D and Miss J’s to babysit the three little ones while they took E for a tonsultation (contraction of tonsil consultation). Miss J said she’s never left the three little ones without E before, and she was just a hair anxious. We all did beautifully. I even managed to convince H to eat several things she normally won’t touch.
Dr D and Miss J got stuck in some heavy traffic, and didn’t make it home until pretty late. The kids were almost upset to see them—just because it meant two sad things would happen next. One, I was going home. Two, they’d have to go to bed.
I made it home just in time to catch my ride with Papa and Josiah in to the Tech library, where Papa was teaching 25 to Life again. There I met up with Jacinda, and after a quick “hello” to Emand Lin N, who were hard at work on the second floor, we made our escape to the beautiful evening for a walk.
I always love talking to Jacindarella. There’s no small talk, no beating around the bush, just straight up, honest, heart-to-heart about the Lord’s work in our hearts and lives. She shared how she really feels like the Lord has her at school right now to reach out to all the floundering girls and point them back to Christ. Her passion for girls is so strong, she gets frustrated when they just don’t see how good it can be, simply trusting the Lord.
I’ll give this task my very best,
But Lord, I know that growth will come
Only through Thy gracious Son.
And so I ask that He preside
And I be only by His side
That He may write redemption’s story
And Thou receive the utmost glory.