Crazy Obedience

So, I've pretty much lost my mind. Ha! you say. She lost it long ago. That may be so, but this time it's really gone. Read on....

About a week ago I received an email from my childhood friend, Holly. We've known eachother for three decades and in a lot of ways I feel like we're sisters. She's not a spiritual sister yet, but I'm waiting for that beautiful day. In the email, she shared that her oldest daughter was about to fail the 7th grade and was quickly slipping into complete rebellion. I've known this for a while. I can see it when they come stay with us during the summer. Holly is a single mom trying to hold her family together while she works three jobs. She is flawed, but she loves her girls. What options does she have? Private school? Sorry, no vouchers for her or the tens of thousands of other parents in this country who need options. Homeschool? When would she work? Girl's Town? If there's such a thing, I think you have to be really bad before they'll put you there.

After a few more email exchanges, an unwelcome thought began to form in that witless brain of mine. You say you love her. Would that be the agape version of love, the one we're called to have in Galatians 5:22 and I Corinthians, among other verses? The kind, as I just taught in my girls Bible study two weeks ago, that gives without expecting anything in return, the kind that looks out for other's needs above my own, the kind that makes you do things you would never do in your right mind? Ugh...I hate it when God throws my Bible studies back in my face, as if to say, "you talked it up now can you walk it?"

Well, I thought, searching for an excuse to say no, I'll pray about it. Give it a little time and He'll let it go. And if all else fails, I'll ask Joe. He'll put his foot down and that will be the end of it. Afterall, I have to submit. But, wouldn't you know it. God just would not stop harassing me about the whole thing so I had to revert to Plan B and bring it up to Joe. And you know what he said, "I think that might be a good idea." Gasp...what? You're not going to say, "no way! Are you crazy woman? Don't you already have enough to do?" No, there was none of that. All my manipulative tricks came to naught.

So, here I am staring at the very real possibility of bringing a rebellious, foul-mouthed, angry little girl into my home. I think that the whole thing is crazy. I don't do girls. They whine a lot and use up all the hot water. I have managed to run a Hannah Montana, Ambercrombie & Fitch-free home for 12 years now. What will come of us?

What always comes from obedience: suffering, trials, hope, joy, perseverence, growth, life....Here we go. Stay tuned.

Misteps and mis-sayings

I am suffering from a a severe case of blog guilt. In other words, I feel bad that I have neglected the "throng" of people that read this blog and so feel compelled to write something no matter how silly or irrelevant....

So, here goes. A compliation of "funnies" spoken by either myself or my children at some point in history.
Cruising down the road....
Dad: Honey, don't forget the appraiser is coming on Tuesday.
Cameron pops up from the backseat and asks, "Who's Keith Razor?"

After a baseball game years ago...
Eric: Mom, can a shoulder blade cut a dill pickle?"

Last week, while Mom was attempting to do way too many things at once....
Mom: Cameron come here so I can change your batteries, I mean your bandage!

A couple of days ago, while Eric and Cameron were playing a mean game of chess....
Cameron: Ha, I got your push-up.
Mom wonders, I don't remember buying any push ups.
Eric: Here take my push-up, he's not that big of a deal anyways.
Mom figures it out. A push-up equals a bishop.

Seven years ago in the Pastor's office at our old church....
Pastor: Josiah, why do you think you should be baptized?
Josiah: Because, I'm a good swimmer?

Ten or Eleven years ago during my kick-boxing phase....
Sarah is exhausted and has already fallen asleep. Enter Joe, a few hours later. He leans in to give Sarah a kiss and she promptly gives him an upercut he'll never forget.

Six years ago on a mission trip in Central Asia....
After making fabulous peanut-butter cookie shaped camels for all the MK's to help tell the story of how the Israelites left Egypt annd slavery behind on, among other animals, a bunch of camels. The thought suddenly comes into my head, What if someone is allergic to peanuts? I grab one of the missionaries and exclaim, "I hope no one goes into profalactic shock!"

At Eric's football game, this summer....
After several exagerated field injuries, I watch Eric collapse under a tackle near the endzone. Irritated that he hasn't gotten up, I yell at the top of my lungs, "What do you want? Your mommy to sew you a dress?" After a few more seconds of scrutiny, I realize to my horror, that the child splayed out on the ground is not Eric at all.

Going to do some gardening now....





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