Stony Paths

“If God sends us on strong paths,

we are provided strong shoes.”

-Corrie Ten Boom

                I love this quote.  It is a comforting reminder of God’s provision when the times get tough.  But the more I walk the strong and stony paths, the more I think there might be something a little lacking in the metaphor.

                If we are provided strong shoes, then we can walk the strong paths confidently from the beginning.  Our feet are protected, and we march into the future knowing that the Lord is giving us the strength and comfort to carry on.

                At the beginning of any difficult path, though, most of us are beset with doubt, fear, and pain.  We walk, but it hurts.  Then, gradually, with time, we find that it hurts a little less.  The stones seem less sharp, and the obstacles seem less daunting.  If we stop and think about it, though, the path hasn’t gotten easier, we’ve just gotten stronger.

                I don’t think it’s because the Lord has given us strong shoes, I think it’s because our bare feet, once tender and unaccustomed to the roughness, have become Hobbit-like, leathery enough to handle the terrain.  God strengthens us gradually in our circumstances.

                Have you ever noticed that two people can react completely differently to very similar situations?  Or that one person will be overwhelmed by a small inconvenience while another can endure great hardship and keep moving?  I’m convinced that it’s largely a result of the toughening process of life.  To those who haven’t encountered many setbacks in life, something small like, say, car trouble, seems like a disaster of epic proportions.  For someone who is accustomed to difficulty, the car trouble is an annoyance, nothing more.

                Life takes practice, and each trial can, if we view it as a lesson, strengthen us and enable us to conquer great challenges, to walk stony paths with tough feet.

“He makes my feet like hinds’ feet,

And sets me upon my high places…

You enlarge my steps under me,

And my feet have not slipped.”

-Psalm 18:33,36

Circumstantial Contentment

I went to visit my grandmother yesterday.  My Grandmommy is very dear to me, both as a grandmother (and the best cookie baker in the world) and a spiritual mentor.  In the "Share about someone who has influenced you" Sunday school icebreaker, I always have an answer, thanks to Grandmommy. 

A week ago, she broke her hip.  She’s had surgery and she’s moved to rehab and I stopped by after work to see her.

And she was smiling.  She encouraged me.  She wanted to know how all of the kids were doing.  Grandmommy was a ray of sunshine, a joy.

Visiting Grandaddy and Grandmommy
Thanks, Aunt Becky, for the picture!

I was so relieved to see her doing well.  I was happy to see her in high spirits.  But you know what?  I wasn’t surprised.

You see, Grandmommy practices a life of contentment.  Anyone who knows her will tell you that.  She is a contented person.  Contentment isn’t something that comes and goes depending on one’s circumstances.  It’s deeper than that.  Practicing contentment enables people to be content in the midst of their circumstances, in spite of their circumstances.

And we don’t have to pretend that our lives are easy when they’re not.

It is very important to understand that being content does not mean denying reality.  Does Grandmommy’s hip hurt?  Yep.  Is getting up and around difficult?  Absolutely.  Life is challenging, and hardships are… well, hard.  No one wants to fall and break a hip!  We don’t have to act like life is easy and wonderful all the time in order to practice contentment.  It’s not a play; it’s not a mind trick.

I’ve been reading NT Wright’s devotional Reflecting the Glory, and as he shares his thoughts on 2 Corinthians 6:4-10, he points out the contrast between Paul’s outward circumstances- tumults, imprisonments, sleeplessness, labor, sorrows- with his inward serenity- patience, purity, knowledge, kindness, and sincere love.  Paul doesn’t deny the difficulty of his life.  He knows it’s hard, but he doesn’t complain about it.  Instead, he focuses on the inward character the Lord is building, the work the Lord is doing through him.

In our lives, when we encounter suffering, our commitment to contentment is tested.  Are we going to ask the Lord for the strength to persevere despite the hardship?  We don’t have to pass the test.  Suffering doesn’t automatically make us patient.  We have to determine to be content.  We have to look for joy and express gratitude.  Little by little, we will get stronger and we will grow more patient.  We will learn the secret of being content, and so demonstrate our faith to others.

“In all things we commend ourselves as ministers of God;

in much patience, in tribulations, in needs, in distresses…

by purity, by knowledge…by kindness,

by the Holy Spirit, by sincere love…

by the power of God…

as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.”

 From 2 Corinthians 6:3-10

Giving up Whine

Raise your hand if you love to hear your kids whine.

Ah, yes, there’s nothing like coming home after a hard day’s work to the melodious sound of whining.  “We’re having THAT for dinner?  We always have stuff I hate!”  “Why do I have to do chores?  No one else does!”  “I’m booooooorrrrreeeeeddddd.” 

I’m fairly certain there’s not a person on the planet who likes to hear whining.  But, let’s be honest, whining isn’t something we outgrow.  We all have our moments; some of us have more moments than others. 

We rename whining when we become adults.  We call it “venting,” “discussing,” “asking for advice,” or “sharing on Facebook.”  But it’s whining.  And it’s bad for us.

Complaining is contentment’s archenemy.  It’s impossible to wallow in complaints and be content at the same time.  But life presents us with a conundrum:  Life is hard.  Days are long.  Irritations abound.  We could adopt a Pollyanna pose:  “Everything is wonderful always!”  There are some who have sunny dispositions and they are, in their deepest souls, optimists.  But what about the rest of us?  How can we combat whininess in our own lives?

Scripture, after all, is pretty plain.  We SHOULD learn to live without complaining.

“Do all things without complaining and disputing,

that you may become blameless and harmless, children of God

without fault in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation,

among whom you shine as lights in the world.”

Philippians 2:14-15

Practically speaking, that is extraordinarily difficult.  Society has a pretty high tolerance for adult whining- it is socially acceptable, even expected, to complain at least a little every day.  Any person who decides to follow a path of joyful, contented speech is going against the flow.   

I think, though, that it’s worth it.  The Bible tells us that we speak the things that are in our hearts (Matthew 12:34), and I’ve observed that the reverse is also true.  The things I speak influence the attitude of my heart.  I am not, however, in favor of just randomly saying positive things that are trite or untrue.   This is not an exercise in cheerleading and self-esteem. 

The cure for grumbling, quite simply, is gratitude.

When I feel a complaint coming on, I have to quickly find something, anything, that I’m truly grateful for.  I do not usually feel thankful for the thing that triggered my whininess.  But if I shift my focus, I can put my complaints in proper perspective. 

I HATE waiting in line.  I really do.  And I hate inefficiency even more.  When I’m stuck in line, I should, perhaps say, “Thank you that I am waiting in line.”  But that would be utterly false.  Instead, I focus on what I am thankful for: that food is readily available to buy, that I’m not pressed for time, that I wore comfortable shoes, that the line will eventually end. 

I try to be specific in my gratitude.  I find that works better than using broad generalizations.  Yes, I’m thankful for salvation.  Yes, I’m thankful for the Bible.  Yes, I’m thankful for air to breathe.  But getting my mind out of a grouchy, grumbling mode requires me to think about something more precise.  I need to make myself focus on blessings that my complaints are obscuring from view. 

The contented life is a journey, and changing grumbling to gratitude is part of the trip.  It doesn’t come easily.  I indulge in whine each day, but every time I conquer it, discontent loses a bit of its grip on me.  For every thankful thought, I move a little further down the path.  And I’m convinced the journey is worth the effort.  Give up the whine, and be grateful.

“In everything give thanks;

for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”

1 Thessalonians 5:18

Contentment Thieves

I wrote last week of my teenage commitment to a life of contentment.  That commitment has, of course, been sorely tested in the years since then.  My enrollment in the contentment course will, I believe, be lifelong.

Shortly after I married, I was blessed to do Beth Moore's study of Philippians.  In it, she lists the Five Thieves of Contentment, five things that rob us of our joy.  I copied those off and posted them on our fridge.  Each "thief" can be identified in Philippians 4.

Pettiness

Philippians 4:2-3 references two women- Euodia and Syntyche- who were, apparently, not "of the same mind."  It sounds like they were fighting.  They were good people- they had both labored with Paul in the gospel, and their names were "in the Book of Life."  But they had let a petty disagreement rob them of their contentment.

When I'm annoyed or offended at someone- a friend, a coworker, a family member- I am not content.  If I am honest with myself, I can usually see that I am being petty.  True conflict does arise and has to be addressed, but most of life's little slights just serve to make life less happy.  Let it go.

Anxiety

Paul is very clear in his command: "Be anxious for nothing."  That's a tall order.  I get anxious.  I worry.  But when I do, contentment deserts me.  Worrying about the future is one of the best ways to rob the present of its joy.  After all, even the most perfect situation can be overshadowed by an expectation of a disaster around the corner.  Paul also gives us the answer for anxious thoughts:  "Pray."  And don't just pray, pray with gratitude, with thanksgiving.  Remember what blessings you do have, and commit the future to the Lord.

Destructive Thinking

Remember, contentment isn't based on one's circumstances.  It's based on one's outlook.  The mind is the place where contentment either starts or dies.  Paul tells us to think on things that are true, noble, lovely, pure.  Don't just think on them, meditate on them.  Be careful what things you allow your mind to repeat over and over.  Those things shape who we become.  Make sure your thoughts are based on God's truth.

Resistance to Learning

As I wrote last week, Paul learned to be content.  Sometimes, we don't want to learn to be content.  We'd rather wallow.  We like to complain.  We need to vent. (If you don't believe me, check out social media.)   Learning contentment is hard.  Hardship doesn't automatically teach us.  We have to be willing to submit ourselves to the lesson. 

Independence from God

We're weak.  We're human.  True contentment requires greater strength than we have on our own.  That's okay.  "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." All things- even banishing the Thieves of Contentment from my life.

Content

Even when I was very young, I enjoyed observing people, listening to their stories, watching how they made their decisions.  I remember thinking that I could learn an awful lot from other people's triumphs and disappointments.

So far, my observations have led me to see something very clearly:

People who are content are content no matter what their circumstances.

People who are discontent stay that way even when their circumstances improve.

Discontented people always feel like something could be better, and when things change, they're sure they will be happy, but they're not.  Because something could always be better.  Something is always lacking.  "Sure, I finally got a new job, but the lady in the office next to me doesn't like me."  "My house is bigger, but now I'm going to complain about how hard it is to clean."  "I've switched churches three times in the last five years, and every one of them has failed to meet my needs."

Discontentment is miserable.

When I was a teenager, I made a conscious decision to be one of the content people.  I was not going to let my circumstances dictate my happiness.  But it's more difficult than it would seem.  After all, life is full of unhappy events, and I'm a realistic person.  If the going gets tough, I feel it just as keenly as the next person.

So I started reading Philippians daily- the entire book through each day- and before each reading, I would remind myself that Paul was in prison when he wrote it.  His life's work, by every human estimation, was on hold, and his life was hard- physically, emotionally, spiritually.  Even in those circumstances, Paul was saying, "Rejoice!"  How did he do it?

In his letter, Paul reveals his secret.  

"I have learned in whatever state I am,

to be content:

I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound.

Everywhere and in all things 

I have learned both to be full and to be hungry,

both to abound and to suffer need.

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

Philippians 4:11-13

Paul had learned to be content no matter what befell him, in good circumstances and bad.  And he was content because Christ gave him strength to be content.  

It is a truly beautiful thought that Paul learned to be content.  He didn't say, "How do I keep my spirits up in prison?  Well, I was born a pretty optimistic person.  I'm just a glass half-full kind of guy."  No, contentment was a lesson he learned.  And that means that all of God's people can learn that lesson.  It's a difficult course, and there's no graduation, but the study is worth it.

Next time you hear yourself complaining, or you find yourself asking God to change your situation, stop and ask yourself if this circumstance might be a good opportunity to learn contentment.  If Paul can do it, so can we, through Christ who gives strength.  

Kid Filter

“Mom, can we listen to ‘Why Can’t a Woman Be More Like a Man?’”

“Umm, sure,” I replied, as I turned on the My Fair Lady soundtrack. 

Stefan’s request caught me a little off-guard.  I had visions of those words popping out of his mouth at preschool or Sunday school.  I hope all of the adults in his life are current on their classic musical lyrics.

It’s funny how things seem different when you have kids.  You listen to music with different ears and see movies with different eyes.  All parents have had the experience of sitting next to their little ones on the couch watching TV and thinking, “I do NOT remember that part!”  (Home Alone, anyone?  I certainly had forgotten about the girly magazines in that one!  My kids did not rewatch that this Christmas.)

A lot of little things, of course, go over a child’s head.  When I was young, I thought that in Rocky Mountain High, Colorado, the friends around the campfire, “everyone says hi!” and that Leroy Brown was the baddest man in the whole DOWN town.  Maybe it was just me, but I think that’s a pretty common experience.

But then there are the things that they DO notice.  Those small things that I thought for sure would just slip right by them.  And that’s when being a parent makes me grow up, again. 

The bar is raised when you’re parenting.  You’ve got this little human (or a hoard of little humans) watching you, listening to you, and learning from you.  It’s terrifying.

And that’s why as many people who can have kids, should.  The rest should get involved with other people’s kids.  It’s an important part of the human maturation process.  Nothing puts one’s habits and choices in clear focus like having an impressionable child examining every move.  Go ahead, try explaining away some small indiscretion.  Children will have none of it.  And if you do convince them that your compromise was necessary under the circumstances, your conscience, as you look into those trusting eyes, will condemn you.

It’s the kid filter: Parenting cleans up the parent’s life.  It’s not just about raising the kids; it’s about not being a kid yourself.

Daily Portion Part 2- Swinging Extremes

In my quest to trust the Lord’s daily portion, I’ve noticed something in my life: extremes.  We humans like extremes.  We swing from one extreme (“I NEVER eat sugar, ever, ever”) to the other (“All the donuts!!!!”).  People who seek moderation are rare indeed. 

Moderation.  Balance.  Those concepts are so integral to the blessing of the Lord’s daily portion.  I know that.  I seek moderation and balance, and yet I still seem to swing from one extreme to the other.  Some days, I work very hard- too hard.  I do everything.  I don’t stop.  I can keep going like that for weeks at a time.  Months, actually.  Like the Israelites in the wilderness with the manna, I gather and gather and gather.

And then, the crash.  It’s inevitable, of course.  I’m human.  I wear out.  No more gathering.  At all.  The opposite extreme kicks in and I just don’t do anything.

Over the course of time, this swinging is so destructive.  When I’m in “gathering” mode, I’m doing too much to hear the Lord’s voice clearly.  I’m just forging ahead, doing what seems the most urgent.  In “sit in my tent” mode, I’m too tired to do what the Lord wants me to.  Plus, the “manna” I hoarded is stinking (unfulfilled commitments are piling up and remaining undone), but I don’t have the energy to do anything about it.

I’m a single parent.  Exhaustion is inevitable.  (Trust me, married parents, you have NO idea.  All the single parents are saying, “Amen!”)  It’s draining to be everyone’s everything all the time.  I’m going to have to work each day until I’m very tired.

What isn’t inevitable, though, is the crash.  The push-past-the-limit-until-all-strength-gives-out crash.  That’s something I bring on myself.  Poor planning and overscheduling guarantee a crash.  So does failing to recognize when my mind has reached its limit.  (I have found that it’s often my mind that feels overloaded, even if I can still physically keep going.)

Recognizing that it’s my choice how much I “gather” each day is the first step toward finding the right amount.  It’s easy to feel like circumstances beyond my control are directing my days, but I have more say in the matter than I like to admit.  I can set priorities and plan ahead.  (“Today, it’s most important that I…”) I can be realistic in my planning.  (“I won’t schedule any projects right before we leave because it’s very likely that one of the kids will have a crisis on our way out the door.”)  And, I can say no when things get to be too much.  Even my kids have learned that Mom is “done” in the late evening. 

Being “insanely busy” and “stressed”- how many times have those terms come up in conversations you’ve had lately?- does not make me a more committed Christian or a better mom.  Insane and stressed people aren’t really better at anything than rested and focused people.  I like to be busy each day.  I want to get out and gather my daily portion with strength and determination.  But each day, I want to avoid the extreme.  No more pushing past the limit. 

Moderation- it might not become the latest trend, but it certainly does have a sustainable ring to it.

Daily Portion

My ladies’ Sunday school class just finished the Breathe Bible study by Priscilla Shirer.  The study focuses on, to quote the subtitle, “Making Room for Sabbath” and creating “margin” in all areas of life.  The concept is an excellent thing to ponder in our busy, distraction-filled lives.

 

In the interest of honesty, I have to confess that the skeptical side of me wanted to say that the study stretched the “Sabbath principle,” as opposed to actual Sabbath-keeping, to its absolute theological limit.  After all, the Bible has lots to say about the Sabbath, both in the Old and New Testaments- we really don’t have to read very much into it.  But, I took a step back and realized that Breathe, with its emphasis on turning our focus to the Lord, had a lot of wisdom, and I should probably try to quiet my skepticism and be a little more teachable. 

Through the course of the study, the Israelites and manna came up repeatedly, and I had a chance to see the story from a new perspective.  I’ve mentioned before the daily nature of God’s provision.  The story of Elijah and the widow at Zarephath has guided me through many tough spots in my life. 

The prophet came to a widow and asked for bread.  She told him that, due to the extreme drought, she had only enough oil and flour for that one day.  After that, she and her son would starve.  Elijah convinced her to share what she had.  “Do not fear…For thus says the Lord God of Israel: ‘The bin of flour shall not be used up nor shall the jar of oil run dry until the day the Lord sends rain on the earth.’”  (1 Kings 17:7-16)  The interesting thing about this story, of course, is that the Lord didn’t send a stockpile of flour and oil.  The widow simply didn’t run out.  Each day, she got up, and what she needed was there.  Daily provision.  Daily trust.

I try to remember that as I go through my life.  Don’t worry.  God’s mercy is new every morning.  He doesn’t give us one big lump to portion out as we have need.  Tomorrow will require a new portion, and so will day after that, and the day after that.

And then there was the manna.  I had always seen that story as another example of that daily provision, and, in fact, it is.  But there is a crucial difference:  The Israelites had a choice.  The widow simply had to get up each day and use what was given to her.  The Israelites had options.  They could have chosen not to go out and gather the manna.  They could (and many did) choose to gather more than their daily allotment and hoard the excess. 

I realized, as I contemplated the story anew, that there are times when I also have a choice.  I can be disobedient and lazy (“Lord, I’m too tired to do that.”) and refuse to gather.  I can run around like crazy, worry about future days, and attempt to store up provision against shortages.  And for me, like the Israelites of old, it never ends well.  “Every man had gathered according to each one’s need…But some of them left part of it until morning, and it bred worms and stank.”  (Exodus 16:18, 20)

So in my life right now, I’m seeking the Lord’s guidance each day: What is His portion?  What does He desire for me to gather?  And I know, as I trust His leading, I’ll see His daily provision.

Tender Mercy

“All the way my Savior leads me;

  What have I to ask beside?

Can I doubt His tender mercy,

  Who through life has been my Guide?

Heav’nly peace, divinest comfort,

  Here by faith in Him to dwell!”

The Savior leads with tender mercy.  How often I need that reminder!

I’ve been reading a book by Elisabeth Elliott, God’s Guidance: Finding His Will for Your Life.  In just the first two chapters, I’ve encountered so much to both challenge and encourage me. 

Lately, I’ve felt constantly behind.  Behind on my work.  Behind on my goals.  Behind on making progress toward the future.  I feel like I should be so much farther down the path.  And yet, so often, I’m tired.  I do my best, but the demands of the day often leave me with very little strength to do the extra things that I believe my life requires.

How can I possibly follow God’s path for me when each day rushes past, and I reach the end exhausted, but not discernibly closer to my goal?

When I make decisions, I pray about them.  I know He holds my future in His hands.  I have confidence that the Lord has given me guidance and direction.  But, even still, my progress is glacial.  My strength, it seems, is indeed small.  I want to obey.  I want to forge ahead with alacrity and will.  I want to take the path in leaps and bounds.

My spirit is willing, but my body (and more often, my mind) is weak.  I know what I should do, but I take only the smallest steps each week.  Am I disobeying?  Will my slow progress negate the Lord’s plan?

And then, the words of Elisabeth Elliott helped me hear the Lord’s counsel.  “Following God,” she says, quoting the words of her friend, Eleanor C. Vandevort, “is not like walking a tightrope.”  Mrs. Elliott pointed out, through scripture after scripture, that with God’s leading comes His compassion.

“He who has pity on them will lead them, and by springs of water will guide them.” (Is. 49:10)

“I will lead him and requite him with comfort.” (Is. 57:18)

“My presence shall go with thee, and I will give thee rest.” (Ex. 33:14)

Then I realized that God is more in control than my anxious thoughts allow.  He plans, not just knowing the path, but knowing my weakness.  Must I obey?  Yes.  Do I have to do more than He gives me strength to do?  No.  His timetable is perfect, even when my execution of His will is not.  He’s powerful enough to use my frailty for His purpose, and as long as I keep heading in His direction, He’ll take care of the outcome.

Entitlement (Honor, Part 1)

I love books.  Anytime I perceive a problem that needs fixing, I buy a new book.  One of my latest reads has been a parenting book called Say Goodbye to Whining,Complaining, and Bad Attitudes in You and Your Kids by Scott Turansky and Joanne Miller.  The title is catchy and cutesy, but it could more appropriately (and probably far less market-ably) be called Honor-Based Parenting.

The authors’ basic premise is that what our homes, lives, and communities need is more of Romans 12:10,

“Be devoted to one another in brotherly love;

give preference to one another in honor.”

Honor is essentially treating someone as a person of value, giving preference to their needs over one’s own.  It’s a basic Christian principle that can transform our homes.  Parents showing honor to children; children showing honor to parents and siblings; spouses showing honor to one another; the family showing honor to the outside world.  It’s simple, but challenging.  We all want our own way.  Honoring others doesn't come naturally.

As I read this book, I meditated on the concept of honor.  I looked for examples in everyday life.  I sought to evaluate my words and my parenting in light of this one crucial concept.   I realized that, in our society, honor- along with its counterparts, politeness, respect, and self-sacrifice- isn’t valued very highly in our daily lives.  Modern society encourages individuality and self-seeking.  The younger generation focuses on looking out for number one.

And then, one day, I stood in line.  It was a long line.  All of the parents were lining up to check in at the school to see our fourth graders in a musical.  We all had the same goal- getting signed in, finding a seat, and watching our adorable children. 

No one likes waiting.  Deep down, we are all two year olds.  We want what we want when we want it, and we don’t want to take turns.  But we’re adults, so we all stood in line.

At least, that’s what I thought would happen.  After a couple of minutes, I realized that some people believed that they had a greater urgency than all of the other people waiting in line.  THEY CUT!  Apparently, they skipped kindergarten and hadn’t learned that that was rude.  I watched carefully to see which of these very important individuals might have a legitimate reason to skip ahead.  Perhaps they were volunteering to help with the musical.  No, they were parents, just like me, and to compound the rudeness, they, unlike me, did not have little ones in tow.

I continued my observations, wondering if basic politeness had given way to “every man for himself.”  (In fairness to men, the “cutters” were women.)  And with this on my mind, I finally made my way up to the sign-in table.  I was planning to take Evan, my fourth grader, out of school immediately after the musical, so I needed to sign him out.  As I picked up the pen to write his name down, one of the cutters came around to the back of the table.  Her hand shot out toward mine.

“Can I have that pen?”

My first instinct, responding to the authoritative tone, was to hand over the pen.  But, no.  I took a deep breath, and looked up at her and smiled, saying in my sweetest voice,

“I’d be happy to give you the pen.  I’m not quite finished with it yet.”

She looked at me askance, “Oh.” She didn’t look embarrassed, just vaguely shocked.  It was very obvious that the fact that I was using the pen hadn’t even entered her mind.  She needed a pen.  I had one.  Clearly I needed to give the pen to her.

Entitled.  She felt entitled.  She was in a hurry.  She didn’t like waiting. 

Honor would have allowed her to see that everyone else felt exactly as she did.  Honor would have caused her, at the very least, to wait her turn.  At its best, honor would have allowed her to give way to the elderly grandparents who were standing behind her.

Life is better if it’s lived with honor.  That's something I want to practice.  That’s something I need to show my children.

Searching for Pencils

Well, this is my first blog, so the pressure is on. After all, it ought to be something profound, something that encapsulates the essence of our family. Something to pass on to future generations...

Or maybe I should just start. Yesterday morning started like any other. I got up, exercised, prayed and read my Bible while sipping a cup of tea, took a shower, and then, the kids got up. I love winter mornings when they come padding in in their footy jammies.

We try to start school at 8, and usually we're successful in that. Nathan and Megan head upstairs to do 20 or 30 minutes of independent work while I finish cleaning up the kitchen and getting the little boys ready for the day. They marched upstairs at precisely 8 AM, and then, everything came to a screeching halt, as it often does.

Pencils. There are no sharpened pencils. Not in the schoolroom, not in the office, not anywhere in the house. And the pencil sharpener is apparently gone too. Now, you must understand, I have bought pencils- a whole big box of 100 for the start of our school year 15 weeks ago. And I've bought sharpeners- 5, to be precise. Everything from fancy electric ones to simple basic ones. Three have broken (they don't make things like they used to) and one has been lost. Well, make that two. The latest is officially MIA.

Pencils, I believe, cause more stress and chaos in our home than any other item or situation. To paraphrase James, "How small a thing sets the whole morning on fire." But this particular morning, we all took a collective deep breath, and set about to solve the problem in a way that would honor the Lord. I found three not very sharp, but still serviceable pencils- one for each child who would be doing school- and we got started. (Woe to the child who chews on his pencil and breaks it in half...)

Maybe this situation is more profound than it seems. After all, it's something that seems just out of my control. At the beginning of the year, I was determined that we would never, ever, ever be without pencils. We would have pencils and sharpeners everywhere. But despite my best efforts, pencils (and sharpeners) disappear into thin air. It's a test, I'm pretty sure.

Now, I'm happy to report that I have located the missing sharpener. It was in the accordion folder where we keep all of our paper. No one put it there. It just walked there on its own. Either that or maybe the baby did it. Poor Carsten is the only one who can't talk, so he gets blamed for just about everything.

Today, I'm going to focus on trying to see things as God sees them. Inconsequential things can build character and make us a stronger for the big things that come up.