I haven't slept in six nights. By that I don't mean that I've only had eight hours when I'd really like ten, or that the baby still wakes a time or two to nurse during the night, I really mean I haven't slept in six nights. With four kids all in different stages of a croupy cough, sleep is non-existent around here these days (and nights). I don't know WHY sickness always has to be worse at night, but it is. And even with a champion of a husband who is not afraid to curl up on the edge of a twin bed with a feverish, barking, bed-hogging little one or walk a snotty, stuffy baby up and down the halls, there is only one of him and three more sick little ones who are awake and in need of comfort all through the night (and never at the same time, of course). We're really tired. My house is a wreck. The bathrooms are gross. I haven't showered since Monday (it's Thursday), and I have company coming to stay for the weekend tomorrow afternoon.

I am a person who needs sleep. As in, I get physically ill when I am deprived for too long. I am also a neat-freak who can't relax unless everything is at least tidy (though clean would be best); bathrooms being especially important to me. And I am not one of those people whose hair still looks great three days after being washed. Add to all of that the fact that I enjoy being prepared for guests by having meals planned and towels clean and folded.... um, yeah. The good news is that I'm not complaining. It's always encouraging when I can see actual proof that God is, in fact, sanctifying me (usually it is so slow a process that I'm left to wonder if it's actually even happening), and this is one of those times.

I always hear moms with many children talk about how much easier it is the more you have and it has never actually made sense to me. I mean, how is that possible? But I think I'm starting to see. With each child I am being forced to "die" a little bit more to myself and "live" a little bit more for them. Things that would make me crazy with frustration before are becoming just part of life as a mom to me now. The work itself isn't "easier" with more children, it's the heart that the Lord works in you through those children that makes it all seem a little bit easier.

I'm far from "there" in this regard (the part about dying to myself and living for my family), and there have still been many times in the past six nights that I beg (out loud) for just thirty consecutive minutes of sleep, but my perspective is broadening. The days are not as long as I once thought they were and they are far more valuable than I once thought they were. Those are things that it has taken me four children to learn.

But I think I've learned all that I can from this particular sickness so we can all go ahead and get better now. As in, right now. As in, I'll get to sleep for eight (or ten?) hours tonight, now....With #4 to get sick currently on "the worst day" and #1 to get sick finally able to suck his thumb and breathe at the same time, hopefully soon.

Deep Thoughts

These light-bulb moments don't happen for me very often in these days of foggy mommy-brain, so when they do I am wise to get them out of my head and onto paper (or screen) lest they be lost forever...
The other day I heard myself react in surprise when one of my children was mean to another (names withheld to protect the guilty). It was while reflecting back on that situation that this "ah-ha!" moment occurred. It struck me that the way that I react to my children's sin today, while they are young and their sins are "small", is the way that they will expect me to react when they are not so young and their sins are greater. If they are accustomed to a mother who is shocked or surprised or ashamed or embarrassed by their sins now, why will they want to come to her when their sins are far more shocking, surprising, shameful or embarrassing? Furthermore, why AM I surprised by their sin in the first place? I've talked about this before in another post (maybe I think too much about sin? : ) ), but when I am going to get it from my head and into my daily living that humans are sinners? Myself, my children and yes, even my saintly husband included? If we are sinners who sin, then why should the sin of my children be surprising, whether they are big or small? It shouldn't be.
Yet again, God uses motherhood to show me more of my selfishness... I think I am surprised because I expect (or want?) motherhood to be easy. Ha! When my children sin it requires me to stop everything and respond to them in gracious love, walking them through the necessary steps towards understanding their heart behind their actions, guiding them through the process of restitution and teaching them a better way for next time. It's a lot of work and I suppose my "surprise" is because I can't believe they're really going to make me do it all again (because chances are it's not the first time we've walked through that process that day!).
But here's the thing, God isn't the least bit surprised by my sin, by my selfishness that wants things to be "easy". He knows. And He teaches me graciously each and every time, knowing that I'll be back for more (probably a few more times in that very day!). He is never shocked or surprised or ashamed or embarrassed. Not in the "little" things and not in the "big" things. He knows. And he still wants me to come.
And it is that thought that hangs around in the back of my mind now when my children sin. I want them to know that I know. That when their sins are small, I'll help them. And when their sins are big, I'll help them. And more importantly, that I'll continue to lead them towards the only One who can really ever help them. The same One who gently and graciously helps their mommy.

I really enjoy learning about anything that has to do with natural living, health and nutrition. Two years ago we moved into an area that has an abundance of local agriculture, my favorite being 12 Aprils Dairy, where we get all of our Happy Cow Dairy products. I had done a lot of reading on the subject after realizing that Sam had a dairy allergy and was really excited to be in an area where such good quality milk was readily available. Before we had such easy access, we kept him off of all dairy as it gave him terrible tummy and skin problems. After learning more about milk, I realized that it wasn't the milk itself that was so hard on his body, it was the way the milk is processed. Since we made the switch to the grass-fed, non-homogenized milk he has been able to enjoy a tall, cold one with the rest of them with absolutely no problems at all. With all of the health benefits that come in rich, creamy, whole milk, I'm so glad that it has made such a huge difference.
Anyway, after all of my reading and after loving "Farmer Tom" from afar, we finally got to go and meet the sweet cows who have been giving us our milk for the past two years. The kids, of course, had a blast. Travis was quite the Happy Cow spokesman as he walked around saying, "I mean, it's just so fresh!"
I was so interesting to hear them talk about how they fell unintentionally into this natural approach to dairy farming over 20 years ago and how they came to change the name of their dairy because of it. Farmer Tom was a commercial dairy farmer who was close to losing his farm. Milk production was low and costs were high. Not a good combination! He talked about his frustration when he came home one afternoon to find that all of his cows had escaped from the cement floored "holding barn" where they were kept and were roaming in the pasture. Eventually, he got them all back in and was absolutely shocked at how much more milk they produced that night when he milked them after being on pasture all day! He decided right then that he was going to take full advantage of his land and give the cows what they wanted; grass and freedom! They now have 29 different fields that they rotate the cows through, with each field being grazed on once a month. They plant seasonal grasses so that the cows have fresh "Spring" grass all year long. He says that the stresses and worries of conventional diary farming are long gone and that this way has produced higher quality milk and far more profit. It's also kept his cows much healthier. Their life span has gone from about 5 to 7 years up to 18 years! Now that's a Happy Cow.

Here are a few pictures from our day:

The Happy Cows

The "dry" cows - mama's waiting to have their babies!

A great encouragement for Mothers

I'm invisible.......
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response,
the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the
phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't
you see I'm on the phone?"

Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or
sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner,
because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this?
Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of
hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is
it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney
Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Pick me up right around 5:30, please."

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the
eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum
laude -- but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never
to be seen again.

She's going ... she's going ... she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return
of a friend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a
fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she
stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put
together so well.

It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked
down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find
that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and
I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was
feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully
wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this."

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly
sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To
Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are
building when no one sees."

In the days ahead I would read -- no, devour -- the book. And I
would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths,
after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the
great cathedrals-- we have no record of their names. These builders gave
their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They
made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their
building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw
everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit
the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving
a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the
man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a
beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it."
And the workman replied, "Because God sees."

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was
almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte.
I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you
does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no
cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over.
You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what
it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a
disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of
my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn
pride.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder.
As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see
finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The
writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could
ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people
willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend
he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at
4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand-bastes a
turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table."

That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just
want him to want to come home.
And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add,
"You're gonna love it there."

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if
we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the
world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty
that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

By Nicole Johnson

"It is against the beginnings of alienations, therefore, that sacred watch must be kept. Has a hasty word been spoken? Instantly recall it and ask for forgiveness. Is there a misunderstanding? No matter whose the fault may be, do not allow it to remain an hour. Is the home-life losing a little of its warmth? Ask not for the cause nor where the blame lies, but hasten to get back to the old fervor at any cost. Never allow the second word to be spoken in a quarrel. Let not the sun go down on an angry thought or feeling between two hearts that have been united as one. Pride must have no place in wedded life.There must never be any standing upon any dignity, nor any nice calculation as to whose place it is to make the apology or to yield to the other. True love knows no such casualty; it seeks not its own; it delights in being foremost in forgiving and yielding. There is no lesson that husbands and wives need more to learn than instantly and always to seek forgiveness of each other whenever they are conscious of having in any way caused pain or committed a wrong. The pride that will never say, "I did wrong; forgive me," is not ready for wedded life...Surely too much is involved, too great a responsibility, too many and too precious interests, to venture upon wedded life without Christ. The lessons are too hard to learn to be attempted without a divine Teacher. The burdens are too heavy to be borne without a mighty Helper. The perils of the way are too many to be passed through without an unerring Guide. The duties are too delicate, and the consequences of failure in them too far-reaching and too terrible, to be taken up without wisdom and help from above."

Home-Making, by J.R. Miller

I am a wife and mommy. My job is far from glamorous, yet the whole of civilization rests on the shoulders of women like me. I love my job and would rather be here at home changing diapers, wiping noses and rocking cradles than anywhere else in the world. Now, my job has a lot of perks, but last week I was made aware of one of the "downsides" to having my children around me all day, every day. Being with me all the time gives them plenty of opportunities to witness my weaknesses, my shortcomings, my sin...

One day last week, after a particularly difficult morning, I was talking with my children about sin. We had all struggled with our imperfection that day and I wanted them to know that I understand their struggle and, even more, that I struggle, too. We talked about the fact that every person ever created struggles with sin and that we will until we are with Jesus. I belabored my point, saying that they sin and mommy sins and daddy sins... It was at that moment that my four year old looked at me curiously and said, "I've never seen Daddy sin. Are you sure Daddy sins?" Now, I'll admit, there was slight urge to confirm that daddy does, in fact, sin, but almost immediately I was grateful for the fact that my children have a daddy whom, in their eyes, is a true representation if their heavenly daddy, Jesus. The reality that their own father does struggle will be clear to them all too soon. Still, there was that second where I felt - dare I say - a little jealous of the fact that while it was impossible for them to imagine their beloved Daddy sinning, they accepted the fact that Mommy sins without even batting an eye. Ok fine, I have smart, observant kids and they've cracked my code - I'm far from perfect. And even though I really am more sanctified now than I was two years ago, they will never have a perfect mommy.

So, what does that mean for my kids? Will my sin scar them for life? Thankfully, no. Because God, in His grace, has been showing me that my kids don't need a perfect mommy, they need a mommy who is willing to show them what to do with their own sin by being a godly example in how she deals with her own. Okay, so my imperfection is actually good for them? In a way, yes, it is. They will never be without sin this side of heaven either, and dealing effectively with our own sin does not come naturally. They need to be taught. They need a mommy who reacts in anger to humble herself before them and ask for their forgiveness. They need a mommy who speaks rudely at their daddy to humble herself and ask for his forgiveness in their presence. They need to hear me confess my own sin in prayer and ask for grace. How will they know to go to the Cross with their own sin if they don't see it happen? It's a perfect example of Christ's strength being perfected in my weakness.

So, my husband can show them what it looks like to live as Christ and I can show them what to do when they don't. We make a great team.