Mom's Bible - Enough to Go Around

Lord willing, my mom will live to be 120. (That's old.) If she should get to meet Jesus before I do, there is at least one thing I would love to have of hers. Her Bible.

It has the same words as mine, but her margin-scribbled commentary is different. That is where she has recorded her thoughts, notes and pieces of her heart. It's the Bible from which much teaching, correction and encouragement have come.

I wonder if my kids will write "Mom's Bible" at the top of a list someday? I pray they do. So, in the spirit of "mom is a referee" I'm settling the argument now.

For Mother's Day this year I received a Bible from each of my boys. They wrote short notes inside the cover to me. From now until they leave home I will write notes to them in the margins -- things I'm praying for them, my thoughts on a particular passage or advice I want them to have.

Like this, for example: John 1:41-42

The first thing Andrew did was to find his brother Simon and tell him, "We have found the Messiah" (that is, the Christ). And he brought him to Jesus.

In the margin of Kid One's Bible I wrote this:

"When he first found his brother..." Son, your brothers are a priority. Pray for them and encourage them in the Word.

My prayer is they will know and be able to see my heart for them - long after they leave home.

Maybe then they will get a glimpse of the countless days I go to the Father on their behalf. Maybe they will even add to it and pass it along to their children. Maybe it will change the lives of my great grandchildren when I'm not around to pray for them personally.

Maybe one of them will preach the gospel to a lost and dying world someday, holding the Bible I prepared for them...

A Hunnerd Bucks - All For You

If you had $100 to spend on YOURSELF, what would you buy?

You can't give it away, spend it on your kids OR pay bills with it. It's free money, fun money! What's your pick? Would you buy 1 thing or several little things?

Me? I might go for some new jeans that would make the Foxy Mr look twice. ;) or maybe the longest massage I could get for $100.

Let's hear your ideas. I want to be prepared to make a good choice if I ever find a $100 in a parking lot or something.

It could happen, right?

Kind of a Hellen Keller Moment

Parenting is hard. I don't care what age the kid is.
Should I just stop with that?

Kid Three is not-so-slowly morphing from an abnormally compliant toddler into a real live boy. I knew it would eventually happen so I wasn't caught off guard too much.

He doesn't like vegetables, like most kids his age. So what, I don't like laundry. Next. This was his reaction to mixed vegetables at lunch today.


So I "kept" them until dinner. New meal, same reaction.


When I decided to "drop the hammer" he dropped this. Nice. Where is your daddy?!

It was one of those Hellen Keller moments. Remember the movie when Annie was trying to get her to eat? ugh. He communicates just about as well as HK...

Reluctantly he picked up some of the green beans and put them in the trash. Then he sat in his chair. And cried "CHEESE!!!!" as loud as he could. (Which is indeed loud, I might add.)

Finally I bribed him.

Me: You want cheese?

K3: les. (and he signed please)

Me: You have to eat a bite of vegetables and then you can have a bite of cheese.

K3: noooooooo. CHEESE! (And a tiny cubed carrot goes flying across the kitchen.)

(repeat 652 times, but I'm very calm -- pridefully so)

And then I saw a tiny opening between his lips. I went in. And he chewed. Then I gave him the smallest bite of cheese.

Glory to God. For real.

I am not foolish enough to think this will continue to work. It's an event reserved for home, not public. Make note, today Kid Three fought the law and the law won.

I love this job. Really I do!

I drank the poison and lived to tell about it

Sometimes I buy bottled water. Sometimes. But don't you dare think you're going to drink one if you could just as easily walk to the faucet and fill up your cup! You'd better be going somewhere that I won't allow my nice glasses to go... I don't mind buying expensive bottled water as long as it isn't wasted.

Apparently, the last 20% of ANY bottle of water my kids drink is poison. What? you ask... POISON!

It must be. There's no other explanation for why I find countless bottles of water on my kitchen counter

or in the garage
or on the back porch
or in the back seat of my car
or wherever...
and all have been consumed leaving the last 20% - the poison, if you will.


My kids, bless their little hearts, are ridiculously serious about avoiding the POISON. Their consistent determination to grab a new water bottle and leave the poison on the counter makes me want to scratch my eyes out. What if their little brother got ahold of that last 20%! What if he drank the poison?! Who knows what would happen to a baby consuming the last few drinks of bottled water! I shudder to think what the Invisible Me would do to those boys if THAT happened.

Last weekend on our camping trip when we finally ran out of water bottles you know what I did? I gathered up 5 bottles of poison laying around on the table ... and.I.drank.it.

And I lived to tell about it. My kids couldn't believe it either.

Someone call the Poison Control Center. I'm out of control.
lll
lll
lll

A dirty word for good clean fun

Pre-season OU football game + a long weekend in September + good, easy going friends = a perfect camping weekend and that's exactly what we had just a few days ago! But CAMPING is a dirty word, for sure.

There are a number of ways to "rough it." Some have tents and sleep out under the stars... with bugs and sticks poking between your every vertebrae. Other people have tow-behind campers that allow you to sleep up off the ground but still invite the camp sounds and smells to flood your netted adobe. And other people have a house on wheels (with more TVs than I have in my real house) and call it a camper.

The Heineckes have a popup camper. I've blogged about it before (here, here, and here). I luv it. Our friends have a Donald Trump house on wheels. And I'm glad they did! When it was time for the OU game to start, we already had our steaks grilled, corn on the cob buttered and chairs perched outside the mobile mansion to watch the game. (Our set up was better than the game, agreed?)

The look my boys' faces says, "We can no longer count OU penalties on one hand... or two hands..."

Some of you say, "Hey, that's not roughing it!" Maybe. Maybe not. Some of you don't camp at all so hush.

But what we DIDN'T have was
internet,
phones,
neighborhood kids using our bathroom and eating our snacks,
bills to pay, laundry to fold, floors to mop,
football practice, trombone practice,
homework, real work and yard work

We roughed it by playing camp games, hiking to the water, eating off paper plates then throwing them in the fire, sitting around talking about nothing and everything, making homemade ice cream and eating it with plastic spoons and riding ATVs... and we did it all without being bossed around by our clocks.

Oh and there was plenty of dirt. Kid Three isn't too keen on the campground showers (since he doesn't even understand how flip flops work, let alone wear them in the shower!) He takes the tub kind of camp shower.

If your family has never camped, it might be worth looking into. Kids in the great outdoors, learning to make a fire, entertain themselves WITHOUT electricity and stopping long enough to enjoy some of the simpler, finer things in life.

Camping is definitely one of the dirtiest things to provide good, clean family fun.

To think like a 2 year old...

It's simple when you're 22 months old.

All liquid is JUICE. It doesn't matter if it is milk, bathwater or a pool. It's all juice to Kid Three.

Every animal is a PUPPY. Bears, cats and alligators. Puppies... all of them.

Anything round is a BALL. Which means it will be thrown, fruit included.

I'm thinking about myself as a follower of Christ. Wouldn't it be better if I were that simple minded? What if everything that is contrary to the Word of God in my life was called SIN-- not "compromise" or "situational discernment." What if I really viewed everyone who didn't know Christ as LOST instead of dismissing their spiritual awareness because I'm too self absorbed. What if I considered every trial PURE JOY because I knew my God was going to show up and prove himself to me again.

I wonder how much different I'd be if I was as simple as a near-two year old.

Father, change me. Purify my heart. Simplify me.
..
..

Special Assignment: Master Diaper Changer... for now

I am a master diaper changer.

I can wipe a hinnie in record time so the small fry won't even know what happened. My utilization of wipes is impressively efficient. Rarely do I distort my face because of the "aroma." I can fold up, roll up, fasten up that diaper into a tiny ball so no smell can escape. Pants up, squirt of Germ-X, two kisses and Kid Three if off and running again, oblivious to the fact that wasn't my favorite part of the day.

My husband is a different story.

Sure, he can change a diaper (and he'd better... he made that little pooper!) but he doesn't do it with as much grace and charm as I do. His breathing becomes irregular and his face gets all messed up. Once or twice I'm sure his eyes watered but there was certainly no joy in those tears. He grunts and rants about how "this is the WORST diaper yet." (Of course it is, Honey.) And the "wrap up" at the end of the event leaves me nervous that "something" might escape if he trips on the way to the trash. Baby is clean but not without feeling like he did something horrible in his pants.
How can two people who both adore Kid Three accomplish the same task so differently? One person feels like it was no big deal, while the other barely made it.

We are not wired the same. It's not his special assignment.

I nurture the small people. I cultivate relationships. I manage, prepare and watch over the affairs of keeping a home. He protects and provides. He leads and discerns what is best for us. I am the heart of the home and he is the strength of it.

I am thankful we are so different because together we demonstrate to the tiny hearts living under our roof what the body of Christ is all about. Different members working as one - each one doing specifically what we are created for. All of us bringing glory to the Father in our own way.

For now, I am a master diaper changer. This is my special assignment and I love it. It may be different in a few years so I will be the best at it. Today.

1 Cor 12:18 - "But in fact God has arranged all the parts of the body just as he wanted them to be."

Live out your calling today. Be the best at it... whether it's changing diapers or balancing the checkbook, writing a book or building a castle with Legos. It's your special assignment.